#What if they weren’t just paint? What if they had neat tastes? C’mon guys what if | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jungcity · 4 years

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥. | iii

word count: 7k

“my soul

chose yours

and a soul

doesn't just

forget that”

— b.m.

“This is absurd!”

There was only one thing you wanted to do tonight; curl in your bed and watch korea dramas until your eyes sore from the radiation. But as you roll the wires of the hair-straightener free, all you could do was sniff the tears that was threatening to spill from your eyes.

Yuqi laughed loudly behind you, helping you unroll the knotted wires of the straightener. “Are you seriously gonna cry right now?” She cackled from seeing your frown that could almost reach your chin.

“I don’t know what’s got to my mind. I am seriously the stupidest person to ever exist in the world!” You screamed.

Yuqi’s laughed went louder while patting your back. “No one told you to grab your boss and introduced him as your boyfriend in front of your ex-boyfriend, sis,” Yuqi said, giving emphasis to the word ‘boyfriend’ before continuing, “… so yes, deal with the consequences.”

While praying for the ground to swallow you whole before you hear the honk of Jaehyun’s car in front of your house, you reminisced the insanity of yesterday.

It was a great sunny day. The weather wasn’t too hot, nor it was too cold. Wildflowers are blooming in the grass, with the wind carrying their petals into the air. You smiled, picking one and continuing your walk towards the bus stop with a flower in your hand.

It had been a month since Yuqi was discharged from the hospital. Her recovery had been incredibly fast. Unfortunately, she needed to drop her entry to the archery team— but the coach told her she could always try-out whenever she regained her full-strength. However, the topic is still on debate inside your home, since you didn’t want to see your sister looking as pale as a ghost on a hospital bed again.

Of course, you did not have any choice— again— but to stay in Jung’s Fiscals. Out of compassion or you-don’t-know-what, Jaehyun did not give you too much headache when it came to filing a loan. You were able to pay for all the hospital bills and other expenses such as medicines because of that.

You realized that this life won’t give you any chances to choose the way you wanted to live it. It had felt as if life itself decides for what was going to happen to you. You shook your head and ran from the negative thoughts. The day is bright and the sun is smiling softly at you, you have no reason to be pessimistic. Especially now that Yuqi is all well and far from danger.

There was only one thing that was persistently nagging on your system. Looking at the view outside while the wheels of the bus rolls down the highway, you think about your dreams. Nothing mysterious has happened after you dreamt about the lake— where you heard Jaehyun’s voice calling for someone named Aurora. You have no inkling about who she might be, or what she is to Jaehyun’s life. But there is a high chance that she is nothing but a part of your imagination. At first, you wanted to ask Jaehyun about the name, but his face welcomed no conversations for things other than business. And it felt absurd to ask him about your dream. He obviously has no responsibility to indulge himself to the visions that you see every time you drift asleep. Besides, you couldn’t risk him calling you delusional nor weird.

However, it’s been a month since you last had a peculiar dream. After the lake, all you dreamt about were shallow visions which you easily forgot the next day. It made everything more sinister, for you still remember every detail of the dream you had about Jaehyun. Before you lose your mind from too much thinking, the bus halted in front of Jung’s Fiscals. You gathered your things and departed the vehicle.

Surprisingly, the inside of the lounge gave off a warm atmosphere, so unusual from its grim and quiet surroundings the whole two months you have been working there. You supposed it was your mood that was taking in the bright sides; of the smiles and greetings you were too occupied to notice because you have always struggled every day to please your boss.

Soojin was on her usual place in the front desk, giving you a wave before continuing on her work.

Jung Jaehyun arrived thirty-minutes after you. As usual, he didn’t spare you a glance when you greeted him. It was not like you were expecting him to. Slowly, in the past eight weeks of working for him, you have already got a hold of his frowning, shouting, and disappointed looks. It almost felt like he doesn’t get into your nerves anymore. But sometimes, he still does. Especially right now.

“Where the fuck did you get this coffee?” He scanned the mug in his hand. You narrowed your brows at him. Surely, there wasn’t anything wrong about its taste. You have tasted the coffee for five times, resulting to five spoons waiting for you in the sink. The same taste still lingering in your mouth.

“Sir?”

“Nevermind. Book me a flight to London, send flowers to Johnny Seo— the dick’s giving me too much shit for not going to his gallery’s opening yesterday,” he said the last sentence to himself, clearly frustrated of his friend bumming him out. You quickly typed the important words into your mobile phone, careful not to misspell nor mistyped anything.

Johnny Seo owned a gallery fifteen-minutes away from Jung’s Fiscals. You knew about it when Mr. Seo visited Jaehyun to force him to go. He is a man of a great posture; tall height with lean muscles. Based from your first impression, he is the friendly-type of guy. He even invited you himself when you brought them drinks.

“And—” he paused. You looked at him, anticipating for his next command. Two minutes, of him looking at nowhere and two minutes of you waiting for his mouth to say something. He was completely speechless in his seat, his mouth a thin line and his eyes emotionless.

“Sir?” You decided to break the silence. Albeit not looking at you, his mouth said the order.

“And… make sure the painting from France will be delivered straight in my house tomorrow.”

You jotted the details of the parcel, and mentally reminded yourself to contact the delivery company for Jaehyun’s orders. When you returned to your table, you transferred the notes into the tab that was provided for you. You were halfway into the notes when you received a text from Soojin.

Yuta’s visiting TODAY! Make sure to look your best, bih! 😉

You emitted a silent gasp. Yuta’s arrival wasn’t on your to-do-list for today, and you have no plans to meet him. Soojin hadn’t given you any hint about his arrival, obviously planning to surprise you with the presence of your ex-boyfriend. And she succeeded. Darn it.

You frustratedly typed in the address of Jaehyun’s house into the mail that you created. Shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, you think about all the possibilities of what could happen later. Soojin’s surely going to give you hell if you stand her up. And you won’t give Yuta the satisfaction of thinking that you still haven’t moved on from your feelings for him. You weren’t trying to be ‘bitter’, you just have no tolerance for cheaters. But for the sake of the friendship that is entwining the three of you, you will go.

Lunch time approached in a dashing speed. For the first time in your whole life, you dreaded the time of eating. There was a pit resting in your stomach by thinking about Yuta. Sure, there is a small part of you that wonders about his whereabouts now, but that curiosity isn’t enough to relive the friendship you once had.

The elevator door tinged, and a smiling Soojin came out. You grunted— there was no running from it now.

“What’s that face, Y/N?” she cooed before sitting on the chair in front of your table. You rolled your eyes at her, showing that you have no time for her teasing.

“C’mon! It’s been years, babe. Don’t tell me you still haven’t moved on?” Soojin raised her perfect brows at you. You threw a crumpled paper her way, earning a loud laugh from her. But it quickly receded as she realized that she was in the same floor as Jung Jaehyun.

“Of course I have moved on! But this meet up, it doesn’t sit well with me. And I don’t understand why are you so eager to see him, not like you didn’t slap him across the cheek when I told you he’s cheating on me,” you reminded her. She, indeed, slapped Yuta before that you feared his teeth would fall off from his gums.

“Like I said, it’s been years. Aren’t you excited to see our old friend?”

No. Yes. Maybe.

“Whatever, Soo. Where is he now?”

At your question, Soojin’s phone buzzed on the table. She mouthed ‘Yuta’ before sliding the green button. “Oh! Nakamoto! Yes, yes. Oooooh! I see that you’re a rich man now! Okay, I’m with Y/N now.” You winced at your name being said to Yuta. “Yes! Okay, okay. Got it!” Then she finished the call with a playful grin plastered on her face.

“He’s already here. And he’s gonna treat us to the nearest restaurant, c’mon!” Soojin dragged you to the elevator, chanting stories after stories as you both walked into the lounge and into the restaurant five-minutes away from Jung’s Fiscals.

Your heart was hammering against your chest as Soojin led you inside. As you passed the door, Soojin sharply turned on you— suddenly fixing your hair like you’re her doll.

“Alright! Let him regret letting you go.” She grinned. You were about to tell her that it’s you who practically let go of Yuta because of his cheating ass when a tall man stood in front of you.

“Yuta Nakamoto!” Soojin squealed, boxing him into a tight hug.

Yuta laughed in her shoulders but his eyes were directly looking at you. You tried to be polite and stretched your lips into a thin smile.

He looks more matured now. He does not look like the playful Yuta with studs almost covering the skin of his ear anymore, but a man who knows what he wants in life. His hair— tied in a neat man bun— is still the white that you remember. Maybe he continued to dye it that way, you will never know. When they pulled away from each other, Yuta spread his arms at you. You reluctantly spread yours and gave him a hug too.

The three of you settled in a four-seater table in the corner of the restaurant near the entrance. Yuta tried to sit beside you but Soojin pulled him beside her and into the seats in front, leaving you sitting alone opposite from them.

“Oh, I need to go to the bathroom,” Soojin said. You widened your eyes at her and she repeated the same expression while gathering her purse. You mouthed the words I’ll kill you before she disappeared from your sight.

You tried your best to ignore Yuta’s furtive glances by skimming the menu. But it was clear by the atmosphere that his tongue was going to say something soon. And he did.

“You looked good, Y/N.” He smiled at you. You chuckled at him, trying your best to sound natural. Once, those smiles were enough to let the butterflies in your stomach stir.

“Yeah, you too.”

He licked his lips, placing the menu on the table and suddenly grabbing your hands. You were too shocked to withdraw, so you let him hold it while looking straight at your eyes.

“Y/N, I know… I know I fucked up. I’m not gonna deny that. But I just wanna say sorry, for the pain that I’d caused you. And I…” He breathed before continuing, “… I came back for you. I… fuck— I still love you.”

You blinked at him, mouth going dry because of his apologies and revelations. Yuta’s eyes were glimmering with something that you could only identify as hope. But his statement didn’t even reach your heart.

It’s not even ten-minutes of you reuniting together. Heck, your butt doesn’t even feel warm in your seat yet. But here he was, ruining everything. However, even after his fucked up declaration, you still tried to gather yourself and remain composed in front of him.

“Don’t fool around Yu—”

He interrupted you by tightening his hold of your hand. “Just give me a chance. I’m a change man now, Y/N.”

Where on earth is Soojin?

“Yuta that is not the problem—”

“Please, Y/N?”

You sighed. This is what you have been telling Soojin all along the way, but she didn’t listen.

“Yuta, I don’t know about that.” You tried to meet his gaze, just so he could see that you were on your edge.

“Why? Soojin told me you’re single. Do you have anyone in your life right now?” He pleaded. You are so going to kill Soojin. You inhaled deep breaths, shutting your eyes. When you opened them, someone caught your attention.

He entered the restaurant like it was his own; with his expensive suit shouting the authority in his every step. His hands on both of his pockets— his eyes coldly scanning the crowd. A faint scowl deepened on his lips as his line of sight slid on to you, sitting and staring at him.

I’m not doing it. You told your brain, but your body seemed to disagree. For you sauntered up to Jung Jaehyun and linked your arms with his. His eyebrows creased, but you smiled widely at him, forcing him to walk to your table.

Stop, Y/N. You still have the chance to save your job and put an end to this nonsense. If your brain could scream, it probably would. But your lips seemed to have a life on its own when it said, “Yuta, this is my boyfriend Jung Jaehyun.” You turned your head from Yuta to your boss. “This is Yuta, my old friend.”

Your smile could reach your ears now, silently praying that your boss would go along this madness. Jaehyun smiled back at you— but you were sane enough to sense the danger between those pearlescent white teeth.

“Let’s sit.” You offered. He was now sitting face to face with Yuta. If your ex-boyfriend was devastated by your announcement, he showed no sign of it for he stretched his arms towards Jaehyun.

“Yuta Nakamoto,” he introduced himself, smiling. Jaehyun stared at his hand for almost a minute. Sweats started to form in your forehead but you let out a sigh when he finally took Yuta’s hand and shook it lightly.

“Jung Jaehyun,” he said. His face had an amused expression as he stared at Yuta, who is now scanning the menu.

“Damn it! I think my stomach’s—” Soojin stopped dead on her tracks, her eyes widening at the sight of her boss sitting beside you. You smiled at her, far too wide to be called natural. But she only widened her eyes.

“Oh, you’re back,” Yuta chimed. He stood up to let Soojin sit on her chair.

“We have Y/N’s boyfriend joining us,” Yuta declared. Soojin almost lost her balance.

“B-boyfriend?” She frantically exchange glances between you and Jaehyun. You swear you were going to collapse soon. But Soojin’s surprised reaction slowly receded to that of an understanding one.

“Oh yes! Ha-ha! Jung Jaehyun, right?! Long time no see!” Soojin even reached for Jaehyun’s shoulder and tapped it lightly. What the fuck? You almost wanted to scream at her, grabbing her hands away from Jaehyun. He looked at his shoulder, to the spot where Soojin touched him and you swear both of you would be dead meat later.

Your orders came— stopping Jaehyun from his quest to burn Soojin with his eyes— and the four of you shared a deafening silence with only the clanking utensils providing the sound.

“So, what do you do these days Jung Jaehyun?” Yuta decided to ask.

You glanced at Soojin, who choke on her food. She looked at you with after-this-we-are-fucking-dead eyes.

Jaehyun was silent for a moment, and you thought he was never going to answer when he wiped his mouth with a dabbing manner and said, “CEO of the building five-minutes away from here.” Then he added, “You?”

Well, that was unexpected.

“That’s cool. I am an actor and a musician in Japan,” Yuta said before biting his food.

You swear you almost heard Jaehyun scoffed, which made your head turn to him so sudden you thought your neck would snap.

“Actor, huh? Suits you.”

They refused to look at each other as they talk. You felt the tension rising up by Jaehyun’s last statement, for Yuta stopped on his chewing. Soojin kicked your shin below the table. She, too, felt the atmosphere as it thickens.

You cleared your throat before Yuta could retaliate. “The salad is good! Try it guys!”

Soojin seconded your motion. The two men snapped their heads to each of your direction.

“Try it, Jae.” The nickname tasted bitter in your mouth. You have witnessed as the same bitterness transferred to your boss’ expression.

“Thanks, chérie.”

There. That pet name again. You tried so hard not to let them notice the tremble of your hand as you leaned a little closer to Jaehyun to put salad on his own plate.

“Are you free this night?” Yuta suddenly voiced, glancing in each of you surrounding him. “Let’s go clubbing tonight. The drink’s on me.” He winked at Soojin, who excitedly shifted on her seat.

You gave Jaehyun a sideway glance, but you couldn’t make up his expression for he was drinking a glass of water. You nudged Soojin below the table. She only widened her eyes at you.

If there was one thing the both of you haven’t done together in a while, it is clubbing. You were absolutely sure that she was not going to bail on Yuta in this adventure.

“That sounds exciting!” Soojin cheered, clapping her hands together.

Yuta looked at you. “How about you, Y/N?”

“I don’t think—”

“We’re going,” Jaehyun declared.

And that is why you are wearing something out of your comfort zone tonight, with your sister straightening your hair.

“Tell me what happened after lunch,” Yuqi teased. You rolled your eyes but told her the story nevertheless.

Soojin couldn’t stop bowing in front of Jaehyun when the three of you returned to the building you thought she was going to cry. Jaehyun only waved her off without saying anything. Then she dashed to the front desk, throwing an apologetic look your way.

The ride inside the elevator was harrowing. Jaehyun’s arms were crossed against his chest, with you fidgeting beside him.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly voiced.

Avoiding both your reflections on the silvery façade of the elevator, you decided to look down at your shoes instead. He didn’t say anything, but you seriously need to make sure that he was not going to fire you.

“You don’t need to go tonight. I know you’re a busy person. And I’m really, really sorry for dragging you into this—”

“You talk too much.” He shifted to face you. Suddenly, you felt the atmosphere warming up inside the elevator.

A finger touched your chin. Then you felt your face as it slowly lifted to meet Jaehyun. You could swim into the depths of his eyes but you were afraid to drown. How could someone be as beautiful as him? You couldn’t believe someone’s face could be as flawless as his; with his perfect brows, to his nose, and to his lips. His skin bore no scar— only perfection.

“See you later,” he breathed. Only then you realized that your faces were utterly so close your lips could almost touch.

“You can stop drooling now,” he said, walking away from you. Your hand flew in your mouth, checking if you were indeed drooling. Shutting your eyes of frustration as you didn’t feel any liquid beside your lips.

But of course, you hide that information from Yuqi.

“Wow! You looked pretty!” She cheered while looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your frown never ceased. It only deepened when you heard the loud honk of a car outside.

“Oh! The CEO is here!” Yuqi singsonged, tickling your sides. You slapped her hands away before walking outside to meet Jaehyun.

Your breath caught in your throat as you see him leaning on his car wearing a casual outfit; white shirt paired with black pants. To be honest, you’d thought he was going to the club with his usual suit and black shoes. He looked much younger in his clothes now, fresher even. The tight atmosphere surrounding him seems to vanish.

You pinched your skin, diving back into reality.

“Yuqi, please take care. Call me if you need anything!” you told your sister, a silent warning exuding from your mouth. She nodded like a puppy while hugging the door frame, trying to get a glimpse of Jaehyun amidst the thick bushes of plants covering the gates.

“I’ll go now.” You shook your head. Yuqi waved you off with a flying kiss.

Jaehyun took a last sip of his blunt before tossing it into the nearest trashcan and walking around his car, not even bothering to open the door for you. You rolled your eyes and pulled the car door open for yourself.

Cigarettes After Sex is blasting through the speakers as you slump into the bullet seat. You have never imagined Jaehyun listening to music, but you guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover. And you enjoy a good music once you heard one, so the ride to the bar weren’t as horrible as you’d expected it would be.

No words were spoken the whole ride, not even when you entered the establishment. Booming electro-pop sounds filled the whole place, making your heart jump together with the speakers. You adjusted your eyes against the LED lights, trying to search the crowd for Soojin and Yuta. Jaehyun is on his way to the counter, leaving you to search alone.

A girl waved at you from the mezzanine floor of the bar. You squinted your eyes to see her face. It was Soojin. You waved back and motioned your hands to where Jaehyun was sitting, taking a shot of tequila.

“Sir—uhm— Jae, found them.”

You bit your tongue of the informality that rolled from it. That is one of the things you were not sure of tonight— formalities. And you have no idea how Jaehyun would have reacted to you calling him by his name, maybe he would really terminate you after this night. He threw you a sideway glance, one brow rising with a shot glass kissing his mouth. You quickly turned your back on him and started walking to where Soojin was.

Oh, what dread greeted you once you have reached their location. Both Yuta and Soojin were sitting on the red sofa— and because they preferred the furthermost seats, all that was left was a one-seater plush sofa. You felt Jaehyun’s presence behind you. He, himself, halted on his tracks as he noticed the only remaining seat. Both of your friends scanned the surroundings, with Soojin ploddingly covering her mouth— slowly realizing the predicament you were into.

Despite the nervousness already coating your body, you tried your best to stay calm. But Jaehyun doesn’t seem to share the same calming technique as you, for he walked to the one-seater, sat on it, looked at you, then tapped his lap.

“Here, babe.”

Babe? What on earth? You widened your eyes at him, hoping that he could see the warning against the pulsing lights around you. His lips turned into a coy smile, showing you that he was enjoying himself right now. Of course, Jaehyun would take every chance to settle your hash. You should have known better.

“There’s no more seat left but here on my lap,” he added.

You saw in your peripheral how Soojin choked on her own saliva. You swear you’d kill Jaehyun once this is all over. You really would, and probably he would do the same to you. Tightening your hands on your purse, you whispered a silent prayer to the saints who might be watching and listening to you now, then trudged the distance between you and Jaehyun with a heavy heart.

“You can sit here, Y/N. I’ll fetch my own,” Yuta interrupted before you could sit on Jaehyun’s lap. He was smiling while tapping his seat between Jaehyun and Soojin. You glanced at Jaehyun. He had that impish look on him as he stared at Yuta; like he was a toy he wanted to play.

“Y/N, what are you still doing standing there?” Soojin waved her hands, encouraging you to snap out of your reverie and finally sit beside her.

You sat uncomfortably in the plush sofa, glancing at Jaehyun every now and then. There was boredom in his eyes as he looked at the surroundings— of dancing bodies and couples making out in the corner.

“Is he okay?” Soojin whispered. You looked at her and shrugged. Since you have never seen Jaehyun inside a bar before, you really couldn’t tell whether he was fascinated or stultified by the happenings around him. Either way, you ignored him and started drinking when Yuta came back, with a waiter carrying a seat for him.

Soojin leaned onto you again. “Let’s have some fun and leave the boys to have their manly talk.”

You answered her with a stupefied look. But she already got her arms linked to yours, pulling you up from your seat.

“It’s time for us to have some girls’ night, so I hope you both won’t mind!” Soojin flashed the two men her white and perfect teeth.

Yuta glanced at Jaehyun, and then back to Soojin. “Enjoy yourselves while the night is still young.” He smiled.

Soojin suddenly slapped his arms. “You sound like an old man!”

Then she pulled you down the stairs and into the throng of dancing bodies. Soojin screamed before diving into the crowd, pulling you with her. The both of you started to dance, leaving both Yuta and Jaehyun behind.

—

Jaehyun stared at the crowd, his eyes fixated on you. He regretted going to this awful place the moment he stepped in and heard the blasting music, but maybe his night wouldn’t be a waste if he kept on watching you losing your shit into the music.

He took another shot of the liquor, wincing for it didn’t even make his throat tighten. The boy in front of him making everything worth wincing for.

Yuta took a swig from his own bottle, gulping down almost half of its content before looking at you again. The way that he tried to worship you with only his eyes made something inside Jaehyun ticked. Nothing would happen if he won’t break the ice. Taking another shot from his glass, he decided to worsen the tensed atmosphere coaxing their surroundings.

“You’re not human.”

Yuta gave him a sideway glance. “Yeah?”

“Yeah? I can smell your fae shit from a mile so you better cut the bullshit and reveal yourself to me now.”

Yuta seemed taken aback by his words. And that was when Jaehyun knew he already caught the bird. “Are you on drugs? Listen man, I don’t know what’re you talking about,” Yuta said, looking for you in the crowd.

Jaehyun leaned closer— eyes as cold as a dead corpse as he pinned down Yuta with a stare. “You do know what I’m talking about. And I know what you are. But you, you don’t know what I am.”

Jaehyun does not miss anything. Not even the slightest twitch of Yuta’s jaw by his last sentence. He doesn’t know how this fae in front of him hides his pointed ears and he does not give a fuck. But he couldn’t let Yuta sit there and not know that he was in the presence of The Fallen, and that someone more powerful than him could sense behind his glamour.

Yuta have him a calculating look then, the fae senses of him piercing through Jaehyun’s soul. Yet he couldn’t seem to figure out what creature Jaehyun truly is. He was devoid of anything human and monstrous— not a vampire nor a lycanthrope, certainly not a warlock— that much was for sure. In the depths of Yuta’s sleuthing, he found something immaculate, hateful, and eternal. And those feelings only belonged to someone who is older than the world itself— of a creature once descended into heaven, standing beside the Almighty Himself.

“Lucifer?” Yuta whispered incredulously.

Jaehyun continued staring at Yuta until the latter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I see that you’re not as dumb as I’ve expected.”

The fae accepted Jaehyun’s taunting— not that he could do anything other than that in the presence of Lucifer. He should have sensed it earlier, when they ate together. But he was so enraptured by meeting you again he did not had any time to sense that something was amiss.

Giggling, both you and Soojin made your way back to Jaehyun and Yuta. Soojin was the first one to sit back on her place beside the latter. While you slowed your steps, drinking in the intense atmosphere between the two men. What happened?

Soojin was laughing merrily as she told Yuta stories about your little adventure in the dance floor. You giggled with her but before you could take another step, Soojin’s feet suddenly blocked the way, making you trip on your toes. A loud gasp escaped your lips before you closed your eyes and waited for the drop to happen. But a pair of strong hands caught your arms— balancing you. Your nose bumped against hard muscles. When you looked up, you saw Jaehyun gazing down at you.

The world suddenly stopped along with your body. You stared at his eyes, heart beating loudly against your chest. His face, mere inches away from you that you could feel his breath fanning your cheeks. Just like in your dreams— when he guided you towards the center of the hall to dance with him.

To hell with the rules, to hell with the barriers separating you and Jaehyun— for the first time in your whole life, you have never wanted to kiss someone as you do right now. It wouldn’t hurt to let those lips touch yours, right? You closed your eyes, slowly tipping your toes to reach those invitingly red lips when a pair of strong arms grabbed you away from Jaehyun.

It happened so fast. You slammed into someone’s chest yet again. You opened your eyes to see Yuta looking at Jaehyun with enough fire to burn the whole building, arms wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

“What the hell, Yuta?!” you screamed and tried to wiggle yourself free. But he only tightened his hands on your shoulders, causing you to wince. Soojin was stoned in her seat, with her fingers wrapped around the glass of vodka. The people around you started to watch the scene unfolding before their eyes with excitement which annoyed you.

“Enough of this game, Y/N.” His tone was serious, and his eyes never left Jaehyun.

Jaehyun worked his jaw. “Let her go.”

Yuta tensed but he didn’t stir. Which you think amused Jaehyun even more.

“I don’t take orders from you,” Yuta spat.

Jaehyun raised his brow, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes bearing a darkness you have never seen before. A darkness that could summon lightning and storm or break the ground open. It sent chills down your spine. He does not look human at all.

He walked languidly towards Yuta, and only when they stood face to face did Jaehyun let himself talk.

“You dare defy me?”

Every words was slow— like he was tasting the dominance dripping from his mouth. Yuta’s grip on you slackened. Before you knew it, his fist already collided against Jaehyun’s jaw. You gasped along with the people watching on the sidelines. Bouncers ran to where you were located and tried to get a hold of the two men. Jaehyun jerked away from their hold before wiping the blood off the side of his lips.

Soojin was quick to wrapped her arms around you, but Jaehyun grabbed your arms again. The both of you walked towards the exit with you barely catching up on his long strides. He pushed the button on his keys, and his car made a sound.

Jaehyun opened the door for the bullet seat. “Get in,” he commanded.

“No.”

By your answer, he stood there, staring at you. The intensity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat, but you stood your ground. What the hell happened inside the bar? To him and Yuta? And where would he bring you? You have enough questions in your mind not to go with him now.

“Get. In.” He insisted, every word laced with authority.

“Make m—”

“Trust me, chérie. You wouldn’t want to finish that sentence,” he interrupted.

You shut your mouth, blinking. Jaehyun raised his brow, motioning you to get in his car. Sighing, you lazily sat on the bullet seat. Complete silence enveloped you as there was no music playing to carry the uneasiness away. You glanced at Jaehyun every now and then, and every time you do, he was checking on the split on his lips.

Albeit not knowing the true reasons of Yuta’s rage, guilt still rests in the pit of your stomach. You have also known Yuta as a troublemaker when you were still in college. Trouble has its way to cling onto him, and you always find him brawling with another student in the fields of the school every now and then. It is a surprised that he graduated on time despite his records. And now that you think of it, you guess old habits really die hard.

Jaehyun stopped in front of your small apartment. Both of you never said anything as you opened the door and made your way out of his car. But you held on to the door, not letting it close behind you.

You bit your lips, turning to face him, “Let me at least tend to your wound.”

“There’s no need.” Jaehyun tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Please.”

You were surprised to see him open the door beside him and depart his car. Maybe you have never expected him to oblige that easily. He followed you inside the apartment and into the living room. At first, he was reluctant to sit on the sofa.

“You can sit, Sir. We clean the house every day.” You rolled your eyes. Rich people are annoying.

Quickly, you knocked onto Yuqi’s door. When she didn’t answer, you gathered the first aid kit at the drawers located in the kitchen, then poured some water to the glass and served it to him.

You sat beside your boss, then you started pouring alcohol to the cotton balls and started dabbing it on his split lips.

His eyes bore into your face, making you uncomfortable. The redolence of tequila mixed with mint wafted your nose as he spoke, “You should be careful around that boy.”

“You can’t give me orders outside work, Sir.” You exerted a bit force in dabbing the cotton ball, but he didn’t even wince.

“I absolutely could, chérie.”

You snapped, “Stop calling me ‘chérie’.”

“Why? Because it makes you nervous?” He held your wrist, pinning you with his gaze. He was right. It does makes you nervous, but you would never let him see that.

“Ha! Of course not!” You scoffed.

You tried to free yourself from his grasp, but he only tightened his grip. It feels like déjà vu. But unlike the other time, there was no buzzing of phones and dreadful news to stop what was bound to happen.

Before you could even blink, Jaehyun’s lips crashed into yours. Shocking waves of electricity traveled your body. Tickles ran down your head to your toes. His lips moved, and you melted with the feeling that you moved your lips too. It felt like a spark, a slight push to drive Jaehyun mad— for he deepened the kiss, hunger and intensity mixing with it. The cotton ball fell into the ground, along with all your senses. Every ravenous kiss you answered with the same fierceness. You bit each other’s lips, tongues colliding inside your mouths—

Jaehyun immediately pulled away, with a curse escaping his mouth. You blinked at him. The kiss you shared leaving a blackhole into your system.

“Fuck.” He stood up, pacing back and forth. Then he picked up his keys and walked away.

The wheels of his car screeched against the asphalt road. You let him go, because what else could you possibly do?

—

The sound of heels colliding with the floor filled the whole of Jaehyun’s penthouse. He never needed to turn to see who had arrived.

“My prince.” The woman said mockingly.

Jaehyun scoffed, “Chaelin.”

The woman poured liquor to the spare glass lying on the table, then she joined Jaehyun in watching the cars and streetlights below the silence of the city.

“The newborns has been taken care of,” she started.

“Good.”

“Good? You didn’t even bother to visit, knowing that Taeyong is out of the country doing God-knows-what.”

Jaehyun chuckled and gave Chaelin a glance. “What did he say?”

The woman lifted her middle finger. “This.”

He ignored the vulgar gesture and walked straight to where the liquor was located, turning his back again to the woman. “Taeyong isn’t a vampire Primus for nothing. And those newborns are the result of their wanting to spread out their dying legacy,” Jaehyun stated.

“And they are doing an absolute great job on it,” Chaelin added.

Taeyong has been recruiting humans to join his clan of vampires for hundreds of years now. His newborns are usually those who became too tired to be normal. And no, he does not force and bend their necks to sip their blood. Taeyong has a peculiar sense of doing everything in order, so he made a document to be signed by the humans who wanted to be vampire before they go through the process. It’s not a secret that newborn vampires are the wildest breed of netherworlders, so Taeyong made bars that would keep them until it’s safe enough to let them roam around.

His vampires does not harm humans. No one would dare. For he vowed to chop their heads off himself if they dare lay a hand on a person. So they mostly feed from animals. But a dent was made by his newborns when Taeyong flew out of the country to attend whatever bullshit that needed his presence. His newborns almost killed a man, sending Chaelin to fix the mess until their Primus arrived to kill them.

That was the same argument Chaelin and Jaehyun talked about two months ago, the one he suspected you heard.

“By the way, did you give the ointment to the girl?” Chaelin asked, crossing her legs into the futon.

“Doyoung gave me too much shit when I asked him for that. He even forced me to pay five aurum for it. Five. Aurum.” Chaelin emphasized.

Aurum is the money netherworlders used as their currency— the Latin term for gold. And netherworlders refers to vampires, warlocks, lycanthropes and such.

The aurum has the same color as gold and it’s similar to coins, with a circle embossed on it. One aurum is enough to buy (not rent) a small apartment if used in the human world. It’s not a surprised Chaelin has gone a little bonkers to the payment Doyoung insisted her to pay.

Doyoung is a warlock, residing in the forest. He actually owned a mansion in the middle of the forest, and that is where he often does magic. And Chaelin deserved an applause for traveling there alone.

“You went alone?” Jaehyun asked.

Chaelin checked her long nails. “Of course not. I brought Jeno with me. I know it would please Doyoung to see his favorite pup.”

“But Jeno won’t be pleased if he heard you calling him pup. He could be the next alpha.”

“Jeno isn’t as easily insulted as you, Jaehyun. And you can’t talk about that while Johnny is still alive and leading the pack.” The woman rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, Lilith.”

“It’s Chaelin now.”

“Why? Does it hurt to remember how the Almighty banished you from Eden and literally replaced you with a girl named Eve?”

“Watch it, Lucifer.” Chaelin’s warning earned a chuckle from Jaehyun. “As far as I know, we were both banished.” There was enough venom in her tone that made Jaehyun halt, suddenly remembering the glory he once had.

“And you must know that I don’t bow to the wants of a patriarch,” she added.

“It’s what the Almighty wished you to do, promising to forgive and make a place in heaven for you if you oblige.”

That was true. The Almighty will forgive Chaelin and lift her punishment once she agreed to be loyal and faithful to Adam. But she refused, over and over again. She was lucky, Jaehyun thought, for the Almighty still wanted her in heaven. Unlike him, who He banished beyond redemption.

Chaelin stood up and made her way to the door. She veered the door open before saying, “I don’t want to redeem myself. He could punish me all over again. But I, I won’t falter. For my pride is higher than the heaven, itself.”

Jaehyun shook his head. But he completely understands the woman. He sat on one of the stools in the kitchen counter, breathing in the silence once again.

“Chaelin,” he called out. The woman turned on her heels to hear what he was about to say.

“There’s a fae bastard roaming around. Make sure he’s taken care of.”

He doesn’t need to turn sideways to see the silent nod the woman made. Then the door clicked close.

Chaelin and him— two creatures molded from the same clay. She was casted out of Eden, and him out of heaven. But unlike when Jaehyun was exiled from heaven— all bloodied and bruised— Chaelin had a triumphant smile in her when she walked out of the paradise and into freedom. Chaelin wasn’t even as powerful as Jaehyun, but she was way more happier.

Into the dead of the night, with only the moonlight slipping into the floor-to-ceiling glass of Jaehyun’s penthouse, he thought about you. About the kiss you shared.

It was foolish of him to let the wanting overcome his senses. But the curve and plumpness of your lips made it hard to hang on to his principles. And before he knew what he was doing, he’s already cupping your cheeks, kissing you with a hunger he didn’t know lay quiet inside him. Yes, he’s kissed and bedded women after all those years of loneliness because of Aurora’s death, but he never once felt something as he did when your lips collided with his. He kissed and kissed you, and for the first time, Aurora’s face flashed in his mind. It should bother him, but no matter what he tells himself, kissing you didn’t feel like cheating. Despite all of it, he still wanted to get rid of your taste in his mouth. So he grabbed his phone inside his pocket and dialed a number.

“Get that pretty ass on here, Mina.”

—

#jung jaehyun au #jung jaehyun imagines #jaehyun nct au #jaehyun au #jaehyun imagines #nct au #nct smut #nct 127 au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #jung yuno imagines

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damn-daemon · 6 years

Text

Healing and Heartache - Part 5 Nick Jakoby x Female Reader

See Part 1 here. See Part 2 here. See Part 3 here. See Part 4 here.

A/N: Hello my pretties! I am back! Oh gosh I hope you guys like this one. Feels of all varieties up in here!

Warnings - no smut, slight angst, nose abuse

Sometimes, affection is not so hard to believe in.

Dating an orc hadn’t been something you’d considered growing up. Like every other girl in town, your far-flung preteen fantasies had consisted of cute, human boys. There had been the occasional elf, but the stuck-up personalities most seemed to possess quickly killed that affixation. But there were never orcs. Apart from your father’s farmhands, who were more family than anything, you hadn’t known any growing up. The orcs in your town kept to themselves, and were homeschooled.

Maybe, you wonder, things might have been different if they went to school with you.

Then again, maybe not.

You don’t know why you’re thinking about this. It’s just another random thought in a series of thoughts that have been flooding your nerve-wracked brain since you woke up.

After a couple weeks of sorting, shifting, and bending over backwards, you and Nick finally found a decent amount of time off to allow your proper date to happen. Honestly, you can’t remember the last time a date caused you so much trouble or emotional response, albeit the last legitimate one was somewhere after college graduation. Since then, it had been a series of single serve meals and one night stands to get you through the real tough weeks. Which was fine. You never thought of yourself as lonely. Just tired as hell mostly.

Now Nick was making you question everything.

You kinda want to hate him for it, but you know you can’t.

“C’mon, (Y/N), you already bore your soul to him once,” you whisper to yourself, tilting your head. “More than once. Dinner should be nothing.”

And it might have been if your nose wasn’t completely bruised and bandaged.

Honestly, the fact that you had hoped nothing physically damaging was going to happen to you in the ER before a major personal event proved you were still, in some respects, utterly naïve.

You take a breath, through your mouth of course, and move to open the door of your truck. A broken body had never stopped you before, and it wasn’t going to stop you now.

Dinner is at Nick’s. He insisted. Obviously, he meant that he would be cooking a meal, but somehow you’re still surprised to see a clearly flustered orc with oven mitts on when the front door opens.

When his gaze immediately fixates on your new facial feature, you shrug. “Like I said before, relatively good condition.”

“You weren’t kidding,” he says.

“No, I was not,” you reply with a smile. You give Nick a once over. Oven mitts aside, he’s dressed rather stylishly in well pressed slacks and a light blue button up shirt. Oddly, it doesn’t clash with the markings on his skin. It compliments them, in fact.

The silence becomes a bit too drawn out for your taste. “May I come in?”

Nick snaps out of his reverie. “Oh, yes, yes, sorry, come right on in. Make yourself at home.”

He had been mesmerized by you; he couldn’t help himself. You’re absolutely stunning in your lacy red dress. It shows off your figure better than anything else he has seen you in, a lot better. Your hair is beautiful, framing your face perfectly. And even with your nose all wrapped up, which he has no problem with – it reminds him of the things you do and how far you’re willing to go for strangers, your face is still the loveliest thing he’s ever seen. Your eyes are bright, filled with joy despite whatever pain you might be in, and your smile is all for him.

It makes him feel horribly self-conscious. You’re an incredibly attractive human, and you’re here, with him, an unblooded, universally hated orc.

How fair is that to you?

His gaze trails after you as you enter his home, gazing around with great interest. He catches the way your hips sway and has to take a breath and look away.

“I know I was here once before,” you start, gazing over the furnishings in his home. Everything is incredibly well kept, neat, orderly, a far cry from the mess hiding in your apartment. The furniture is older, but sturdy, classy, family pieces perhaps. “But I, uh…I didn’t really get the chance to actually look. It’s a lovely place.”

Nick chuckles, standing beside you as you gaze up at a small painting on the wall. “Now, I can’t take credit for any of this, really. My mother hunted down everything in this house, wanted to make it feel just right. My dad and I never had the heart to change anything after she passed.”

The tug returns, and you turn to say something, but Nick has already ducked back into the kitchen. You hear pots and pans being shuffled, and him muttering under his breath. Suddenly you wish you could smell through your nose without feeling the urge to cry.

You move over to his bookcase, hand gently running along the spines of his books. He has quite the collection, most of it nonfiction. History, botany, and quite a bit on magic, theories, practices, how it’s influenced the modern age. And then your fingers come across a small collection of worn westerns.

You smile. Cops and robbers to the very end.

“I want to thank you…for earlier,” you call out, glancing over old photographs of a happy family. Nick could not have been very old, five or six maybe. His dad was dressed in classic workman’s clothes and his mom was nothing but style in a sundress. The next picture had an older Nick, preteens, but only his dad was there. The smiles were much less enthusiastic. “I know it couldn’t have been very easy.”

“There’s no need,” Nick starts, his gaze fixated on the boiling water in the pot before him. “There’s no need to thank me.”

He looks over all the food he’s prepared, wondering if everything is ready to go, and then he hears you approach, your heels clicking against the wood floor. That’s a sound he hasn’t heard in a long time. It almost saddens him.

You’re leaning on the doorway for the dining room and kitchen, watching him work. He’s made quite a bit, and it all looks incredibly good. Though you suppose anything is better than hospital food and lean cuisine.

“Of course there is,” you say, surprised he would say such a thing. Well, maybe not surprised, just saddened. “I have friends who wouldn’t do what you did, and I’ve known them a lot longer.”

“They don’t sound like very good friends,” he says, not turning your way.

You shrug. “Different friends for different circumstances. I wouldn’t take you lingerie shopping.”

His ears twitch, and he stumbles ever so slightly. You smile.

“The point is,” you continue, sitting at the table. It’s more of a breakfast nook, lit with two candles. You’d never had a dinner by candlelight. “You deserve to be thanked. Some days, it feels like there aren’t enough good people in this world. Let me recognize you for that.”

There is a strange look in his eyes when Nick looks at you. You can’t quite decipher it, but you know it’s something deep, personal.

It sends a chill up your spine.

An alarm goes off. Nick jumps, fingers fumbling to shut the oven off. He curses in orcish before remembering one very important fact about you.

Sheepishly, he glances over his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“Hey, you should hear me when I stub my toe at night,” you reply, watching him balance multiple tasks at once. “I’d offer to help, but I still have to cross my fingers and hope nothing gets set on fire when I preheat my oven.”

Nick chuckles, finishing a few things. “I don’t have much left anyway. Just a few spices to put in, nothing you could do much damage with.”

“Don’t challenge me. I’ll win.”

He laughs again and sits down to the meal.

Dinner is amazing. The company is even better.

The two of you talked for hours, even after the food was finished and the leftovers grew cold. Eventually, you helped Nick clean up the dishes before taking the conversation outside.

It’s a warm, clear night, and though the light pollution keeps you from seeing the stars, you still gaze up at the sky in wonder.

You’re on the porch steps, beer in hand, heels discarded somewhere behind you. Nick is right beside you. Despite how comfortable the evening had been, he still sat with a respectable amount of distance between the two of you. You almost instantly closed the gap. Your arms are pushed against one another now, knees brushing. He tensed at first but quickly relaxed into the closeness.

“What made you want to become a cop?” you ask during one of the lulls in conversation.

Nick blinks, and then thinks. He’d been asked some version of that question a thousand times before, but under far less agreeable conditions. He has to stop himself from saying the automatic response he has trained himself to say, monotone, without a hint of hesitation. He’s not out to prove himself anymore. This is only a curious question that deserves an honest answer.

But how does he go about it?

He shrugs. “I just always wanted to be one.”

You shake your head. “That’s not good enough. Everyone has a reason.”

“And what was yours?”

“Easy.” You take a drink from your beer. “When I was about eight, my friend wrecked her bike, split her chin clean open. There was blood everywhere and she was crying, and I couldn’t calm her down. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked. And ever since that day, I never wanted to feel so helpless or useless ever again. I wanted to be able to look at any injured person and say ‘I can do something about that.’”

“You practice that in the mirror?”

You smile, taking another drink. “Every night before I go to bed. Your turn.”

Nick turns to his own bottle, watching the beer slosh around inside. “I don’t know. I just…always had this idea in my head. The police are supposed to protect people, be what separates right from wrong, and that appealed to me. Always has.”

He pauses. “You, uh…see a lot of things growing up around here, things that might have turned out differently if someone had just done something. And for me, becoming a cop is the best way of doing just that.”

You watch the emotions play out across his face and wonder to yourself what it must have been like growing up for him. It was clear his parents had done the best they could to shelter him from the worst of it, but eventually reality hits everyone.

But you don’t want to focus on that.

“I saw those westerns of yours.”

He chuckles, slightly embarrassed but also touched that you noticed. “Yeah, that might be what started it. Bedtime stories weren’t kid’s books for me. It was about outlaws and bandits and that lone cowboy saving the helpless travelers. Dad always told me that if I was ever in a position to help something, then I best do something about it.”

“He sounds like a good man.”

Nick nods, remembering a strong, proud orc who didn’t need a clan to find his place in the world.

“My father worked construction. He did it all his life. It was in his blood, and he was good at it too. It was hard work, but it kept him busy and kept food on the table. Jirak didn’t need to be blooded, so neither did he.

“And the humans that worked there, they respected him too. They were all close. Some even had dinner in our home. And they made him foreman too.

“Then things changed. Someone bought out the company he worked at, and the first thing they did was fire him. Didn’t matter what anyone else said. No orc was going to be working for them. And no one else wanted him either. All of his skill and knowhow didn’t matter. All they saw was a freak with tusks. It broke him.”

Was there ever going to be a conversation where Nick didn’t completely break your heart?

You just stare at him, at a loss for words, and he turns to you, and you see this deep, unending sadness in his eyes. It’s the kind of pain that never goes away. It dulls, only to sharpen again when you least expect it.

“He’d be proud of you, Nick.”

He turns away, unable to handle the honesty in your eyes. “That’s…nice of you to say.”

And there he goes again. All the self-doubt and lack of confidence tearing apart everything encouraging you say. It’s not going to happen. Not tonight. Not ever again.

You place your hand on his cheek, turning him back toward you. He tenses under your touch, but you hold him firmly in place.

“They’ve got you all twisted up inside, don’t they? You can’t even see your own value.”

How do you know him so well? He can’t fathom it.

Nick can’t hold your gaze. It’s too much. The adoration and care, and dare he say something more than that? Can he even hope for such a thing? You long ago stopped being a human who happened to be nice, but what he’s thinking of is so much more. It almost scares him, the possibility alone.

You sigh softly, placing your free hand under his chin. Nick doesn’t fight the movement, as he meets your eyes again.

Your hands burn where you touch him, but it isn’t a painful sensation. It just leaves him wanting more, a consuming desire that blows through him like a wildfire. You’re so close to him. All he has to do is reach out ever so slightly…

You smile. “You think too much.”

Then your lips meet his, slowly, carefully, afraid you might scare him away with anything more. You’re almost convinced you have when he doesn’t initially respond, but then you feel it, the relaxing of his shoulders, the happy sigh that blows past his lips to yours.

One of his hands grabs your hip, holding you steady as the other gently grasps your cheek. It shakes at first, but calms as you deepen the kiss, dispelling that doubt that lingers in his mind so much.

He tastes like dinner and the beer, and honestly it’s the greatest thing that’s ever met your lips. Distantly, you wonder how this could have happened had his teeth not been filed, but you push the thought aside, preferring the comfort of a mind adrift in pure bliss.

At some point, you break apart. It could have been seconds or an hour; it didn’t matter. What did was that dazed look on Nick’s face as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings again. You bite your lip as you watch him, ego enjoying a small boost.

“That was…” Nick trails off. How could he describe it? There was no possible way to describe it. He’d kissed before. He had, but it wasn’t…that. It wasn’t tender or soft or intoxicating; it had been awkward and something he’d wanted to end as soon as it started. But this, this was something he could have done for all eternity and been completely content with. Yet he can’t bring himself to say those words. “That was good.”

You laugh, and for a brief moment Nick wonders if he hasn’t offended you, but the look on your face tells him otherwise. Then you touch your nose gently and he has to wonder. He must have bumped it several times.

“Did…did that hurt?”

You’re laughing harder now. You lay your head on his shoulder. The laughter shakes his body.

“So much.”

As you continue to laugh until tears form in your eyes, Nick wraps his arm around you. No hesitation, no tenseness. Just comfort, and the need to hold you closer.

“So, I take it that’s a yes for a second date?” he asks, and you can’t help but notice he sounds more confident as he says it.

“That is a definite yes, Officer Jakoby.”

A/N: Alright guys, just a couple parts left. And I think a special edition type one where we follow the reader through certain events during the movie. It’s been a fun ride!

Tags! @xxdarkdarlingxx @homra-the-red-clan @frankie2902 @littlemessyjessi @ivannesque @isisnicole @notaliteraltoad @the-great-irene @beenerdish @cheshagirl @kitsu-hime @annwoods91 @ever-hungry-aria @robotic-loser @sullybot @uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @fireflyloki28 @tentacles-and-coffee @j-watsonia Did I miss you? Do you want to be added? Do you hate my guts? Let me know!

#still love these dorks #bright fanfiction #bright netflix #nick jakoby #jakoby x reader #nick jakoby x reader #nick jakoby fanfiction

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yourcroweater · 6 years

Photo

C o r r u p t

Chapter 2

A/N: this takes place in the first episode of season 5 of SoA. Chapter 3 will be set in episode 1 and 2. I’ll be taking some liberties when it comes to the time-line, I hope I don’t make a mess out of this lol. The lyrics are from Dark Nights - Dorothy

Tag list: @sam-samcro @telford-ortiz-teller @telfords-glasgow-smile @jaaxsoadeaanspn @i-was-made-of-nutella @dolphingoddess81 @i-am-the-luna @teller-telford-old-lady @dmagicreality @meggzz21 @i-like-it-heavy-so-i-can-panic @enjoy-the-destruction

“don't send me no angel, this city's too cold

cause I need a man with a black heart of gold

don't give me no lover, if he ain't got the stones

cause I need a man who will fight for his own.”

The sun was setting by the time I passed the Charming welcome sign. It hadn’t been hard spotting Charming in a map. Making my way there wasn’t hard either. It was an hour and a half drive through the I-580 according to Google Maps but I made it in a little less than an hour on my bike.

I would have left first thing in the morning if I wasn’t so damn tired. Those corpses Jimmy left for me took forever to clean up. Pieces of brain scattered everywhere -- I even found some on a far back wall -- and I had to make sure there was no evidence left behind.

I had taken an extremely long and necessary shower once I got to my loft, at almost 7am. I crashed on my bed totally naked afterwards, almost 9 in the morning then, still partially wet from my shower.

My whole body was sore from dismembering and carrying body parts and it took me forever to find a comfortable position in bed and finally sleep. I woke up at 4pm still feeling like shit. I tossed and turned all throughout my sleep and I hardly felt rested. This time, I blamed the nightmares on too much wine and on Taco Bell’s fat filled food -- but I knew better. I pushed it to the back of mind though. I could wallow in guilt later. Meeting my real father was more important than rethinking my sins.

Still, the guilt spoke louder and I found myself praying Our Father as I took the turn to leave I-580 and enter Charming town. I would have held the cross on my necklace if my hands weren’t on the clutch. My faith helped me constantly with my line of work and I always calmed down a little when I prayed. It would be good if I could find a church in Charming. I didn’t need to confess. Sunday mass was enough for me.

This time, however, I got a tad too distracted with my praying. I lost my grip on the bike for a second and I swayed on the street, earning several warning honks from cars. The honks startled me and I brusquely tried to straighten the motorcycle. A van had been trying to pass me on the right and when I swerved back into my lane it hit my side, sending me and the bike sliding against the road.

I landed on my side with my bike pinning me down. It took me a second to register the pain and start cursing. My left leg, the one under the bike, burned like a motherfucker and my left shoulder took most of the impact for my body. The car behind me hit the brakes, putting me face to face with its front bumper. There was big sticker on it that read ‘Jesus is my car insurance’. I doubted Jesus would cover the wreck if the guy had ran me over.

It was so ridiculous and ironic that I started laughing. God really had my back. I removed my helmet and threw it to the side still laughing.

“God fucking dammit,” I muttered to myself as I chuckled.

I looked down, trying to see the damage and wondering how much strength I would need to lift my Harley. As I tried to sit up so I could wiggle out from beneath the bike, I noticed three men jumping from their own Harleys and running my way. Bikers always helped it each other when it came to road troubles. Drivers rarely gave a shit, like the van driver who just took off after I went down.

“Hey hey, hold on,” called the first man ahead. He removed his helmet, revealing a mass of blonde hair.

I stopped moving so he and the other two men could lift my motorcycle.

“One, two, three,” the blonde guy counted and they pulled it up. I breathed out in relief once its weight was off me. The man with a big belly — made of beer and fried food, I supposed — kicked the footrest down so my bike could be propped up.

The third guy strode to me, offering me his gloved hand. I couldn’t see much of his face because the setting sun was right behind him, making him a silhouette. I grabbed my helmet with one hand before letting him pull me up to my feet.

I cursed under my breath once I was up. Pain flashed from my knee to my thigh and I stumbled. The man that pulled me up put his arm around me so I wouldn’t fall and I swung my arm around his shoulders so I could rest my weight on him.

“Ye okay, lass?” He asked. I looked curiously at him, trying to put a face to the Scottish accent, but the sun was in my eyes.

“Can’t say for sure,” I replied. I twisted my body a little so I could have a look at my leg. There was a mixture of red, black and grey and it took me a second to realise it was blood, asphalt and the colour of my jeans. It wasn’t gushing blood but it looked ugly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, had worse before.”

“What happened?” Asked the blonde.

“I got distracted, it was my fault,” I explained. “Is she alright?” I pointed at my bike.

The fat guy checked it out from behind his blue sunglasses. “Yeah, she’s good. You took most of the fall. There’s a few scratches but we can fix it for you.”

Before I could say anything, the driver from the Crown Vic, the one with Jesus insurance, honked loudly at us. Fair enough, we were standing in the middle of the road but I had had an accident and I was hurt. I leaned past my Scottish saviour so I could give the driver my middle finger. The driver honked again and there was a collective raising of middle fingers from all of us this time and a loud “fuck off” from the fat guy.

“C’mon, let’s free up the road for that shithead,” the blonde said, nodding at the Scotsman and helping the other guy steer my Harley to a close lay-by.

I half limped, half hopped my way there with the aid of the man at my side. He was a few of inches taller than me, three or four inches I would guess, and he had to lean down a bit so I could rest my weight on him. I stole a glance at him -- actually, several glances, especially when I realised he was pretty good looking.

“Sit down,” he told me as he unhooked my arm from around him. I did as he said and sat down on my bike, hanging my helmet on the clutch and immediately looking up at him. He removed his sunglasses and met my eyes. I assumed my brain got overflowed with endorphins because I stopped feeling pain. Yeah, he was that hot. Mind numbingly and pain numbingly hot.

I noticed how hot the blonde guy was when he jumped off his bike but he was far too pretty for my taste. I liked my men ruggedly handsome, older and -- well from now on -- Scottish.

I stared at him and he stared right back. He had scars across his cheeks, I noticed -- hard to miss actually, and somehow it made him look sexier. It added to the whole dangerous and mysterious vibe he put out. He had a kutte on over a brown button-up shirt and I could read the patches if I squinted enough. Sons of Anarchy, Sgt. At Arms, Redwood Original. I stopped staring for a second so I could have a quick look at the other two men. All of them wore kuttes and the blonde one had a President patch. Rescued by a motorcycle club. Neat.

I turned my gaze back to the Scotsman. He tilted his head, his dark eyes meeting mine as a lopsided smile played on his lips. He was watching me with interest. In fact, I’d say he was checking me out. Good. I wasn’t being discreet about it -- when was I ever discreet with my flirting? Never, that’s when. I was laying on the ground a minute ago and here I was, lusting after my rescuer. And oh, there was a lot to lust after according to his tight jeans. I tried not to stare too hard at his crotch but it was difficult, especially because I was sat and he was right in front of me.

I managed to unglue my eyes from his junk and meet his eyes with a smirk. The blonde man cleared his throat. He was trying to hide his smile but he wasn’t being very good at it.

“Sorry. You said you guys can fix my bike for me?” I asked, trying to brush off the flirting.

“Yeah, there’s only a few scratches. We can paint it over at T-M but it’ll ruin the original paint job,” the guy with the blue glasses stepped forward as he spoke. He had long greying hair and a beard.

“T-M?”

“Teller-Morrow Automotive, our auto-shop,” the Scot supplied.

I felt all blood leave my face.

Of fucking course. I came to Charming looking for my real dad, knowing his name, where he worked and that he was criminal. And now I was face to face with bikers, probably criminals, who owned the place my father worked in. I knew I was bound to meet some uncomfortable truths about my dad but actually realising how close to it I was, scared me. Not only that, but I was flirting with some guy who could very well be my dad. He looked old enough.

Jesus. What if he was my dad? That would be extremely weird. But he couldn’t be my dad. My mother said I looked like him and I had nothing in common with the Scotsman.

I had to just get on with it and ask.

“You happen to know an Alexander Trager then?”

At first they stared at me, their eyebrows twitching as if they expected me to say more. When I didn’t, all three of them shifted on their feet while exchanging looks. None of them reacted to the name as someone would if they heard their own name, which calmed me a little.

“What’s yer name?” The Scotsman crossed his arms over his chest, all traces of his flirting gone.

“Giulia,” I said. He cocked his right eyebrow in response, prompting me to say more. “Giulia Lucchese.” He looked at the other two and they shook their heads. “Look, I get that you don’t know me but I just wanna talk to Trager.”

“Why?” the blonde asked, his baby blue eyes piercing mine.

It wasn’t hard to tell they were suspicious of me. I would be too if some stranger came around my town asking for a friend of mine.

I took a deep breath before opening my mouth.

“Because he’s my father.”

Blondie and Scot raised their eyebrows and Blue Sunglasses let out a chuckle. Life would be a bit easier right now if I at least knew their names. It’d be nice to be on first name basis if they were gonna judge me.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Blondie said, running a hand over his face. “Unbelievable.”

“It’s not that hard to believe, Jax,” Blue Sunglasses scoffed. “It was bound to happen. The way Tig fucks around... I knew some lost kid was gonna pop up someday,” he shook his head to the sides, laughing. His eyes analysed me and he stopped laughing as if he just realised something. “You said Lucchese?” I nodded. “Ain’t that fucking great?” he looked up at the sky as if he was cursing God.

“What?” I asked along with Scot and Blondie (or Jax).

“Lucchese, as in Bianca Lucchese,” my eyebrows shot up upon hearing my mom’s name. “Remember her, Chibs?” Blue Sunglasses stopped so he could look at Scot. Chibs was his name? I doubted it, probably a nickname.

“Shit. Aye, I remember her. But now she’s… Fuck. Tig sure chooses them well.” He smoothed his greying hair back with both hands, looking frustrated.

“What?!” Jax shouted, his blonde eyebrows furrowed. Apparently he wasn’t a fan of being kept out of the loop. I was right with him in this one.

“Ye were a kid, Jackie boy. Ye don’t remember her. Bianca, yer mum,” he eyed me for a second, “was drivin’ on 580 when her car broke down and she called T-M fer a tow. Tig and Bobby went to pick her up…” he stopped and looked at Blue Sunglasses, who I deduced was Bobby.

“Bianca was real pretty. Italian accent. Tig was onto her the moment she spoke,” Bobby explained, rolling his eyes. I leaned forward, my injured leg long forgotten, eager to hear the details of how my mother and father met. I knew nothing, I’d take any information those bikers had to give me. “We fixed her car but she stayed in Charming for a month because of Tig. Bianca broke things up because Tig was divorcing Colleen and then she left to Oakland. Pregnant apparently,” he pointed at me. “Since Giulia is here now.”

“So? What’s the problem?” Jax asked.

“Bianca’s married to Jimmy Cacuzza now. Which makes her,” Bobby pointed one fat finger at me again, “Jimmy’s stepdaughter and italian mob.”

“No I’m not,” I replied instantly. Took me a second to realise they knew Jimmy Cacuzza. More than that, they knew he was mafia. The name meant something to them and right now it meant trouble. At best they had a good relationship with Jimmy and my, well, existing put them at odds. “Yes, I’m his stepdaughter but I have nothing to do with the mob.” Okay, I was sorta lying. “Look,” I stood up, ignoring the flash of pain that coursed through my leg, “until yesterday I didn’t know who my father was. I came here to get to know him, I don’t want to cause any problems. You guys clearly have, uh, a relationship with Jimmy and I don’t wanna get caught in between that. It’s not my fault who my mom fucked or who she got married to,” I shrugged. “I just wanna meet my real dad and if he doesn’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I’ll just go back to Oakland if that happens. But I’m not leaving until I get to at least see him.”

For a moment we all stared at each other. The sun had finished setting, leaving the California sky in a purplish shade. With the sun gone, the wind started picking up and the blood on my leg became cold as it dried. Headlights from cars passing on the I-580 were the the only source of light.

Finally, Jax nodded.

“Fine but you only get to talk to him after we’re sure you’re his daughter.”

“I’ll take a DNA test if you want me to,” I replied, sitting down again. I could have leaped in joy but my leg stopped me from doing that and I was not doing that in front of badass bikers. “I want to be sure, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Until then, you’re not leaving our sight,” I was sure he was using his threatening voice, yet it had little effect on me. I just stared back. “Can you ride?” He looked from my leg to my bike.

“I’m good for riding but I should probably get this looked at later,” I said.

“My old lady is a doctor, she can check it out for you,” he walked to his bike, a Dyna Super Glide, and picked up his helmet. “You follow us out,” he commanded. No shit he was President, the man ordered people around like it was nothing. He could’ve said it nicely and I would follow them out anyway.

I was getting up to swing my leg over my Iron 883 when Chibs stepped forward, grazing my shoulder lightly with his hand.

“Yer leg’s still bleedin’. Ye have anythin’ to tie around it?” He frowned as he looked at the wound.

I could have drooled at this point. Not only was he hot, he was also caring. He was actually concerned about my leg. Yeah, he was making me horny with only that and that was a good skill to have.

“I have an old shirt in my saddlebag, you can use that,” I managed to say, pointing at the studded saddlebag attached to my motorcycle.

He bent down so he could open the saddlebag and retrieve my old over-sized Ozzy Osbourne shirt. I usually slept with it but apparently I wasn’t using it tonight, since it was going to be covered in blood. He united the two sleeves before squatting down in front of me. He wrapped it around my leg, staring dead straight into my eyes with his eyebrows arched. I bit my lip to stifle my smile as I watched him.

“Not how I imagined you going down on me,” I quipped. His hands stopped for a moment as he looked up at me, a grin appearing on his face. Bobby and Jax laughed as they mounted their bikes and then Chibs chuckled too. He finished tying my shirt and made sure the knot was secured.

“No need for a DNA test, Jax,” Bobby told him but he was looking at me. “After that one, she’s definitely Tig’s kid.”

Jax nodded, chuckling as he started his bike and soon his and Bobby’s laugh were drowned out by the Harleys’ powerful engines. I meant to ask what he meant by that -- was my dad a horndog like I was? -- but Chibs still had my attention.

He offered me my helmet after getting back on his feet and then leaned forward and gave me a wink paired with a smile. On top of everything else, he had dimples. To say my panties were soaked would be an understatement.

“Try to keep up with us, love,” he told me before turning his back on me and heading towards his own bike. His kutte had a nice design on the back with a reaper and an AK-47.

I tilted my head, my eyes fixed on his ass as he strode. Nice junk and a nice ass. He alone was reason enough for me stick around awhile. But I came to Charming with a purpose and that was to find my dad -- not a lover. I wouldn’t complain if it happened, though.

#sons of anarchy #soa #sons of anarchy fanfic #soa fanfic #chibs telford #jax teller #bobby munson #tig trager #gemma teller #clay morrow #happy lowman #juice ortiz #tara knowles #opie winston #corrupt #jessica de gouw

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