#because I'd completely forgot about this moment

[mythvoiced]

-. on my third cup of chamomile I forgot my mother telling folks when i was a kid that she didn't like making me chamomile tea because it doesn't work on me it has the effect on me coffee has on most folks I am READY to fucking GO what's up chamomile tea to sleeP? NO MY BEAUTIES chamomile tea to something pls insert something that makes sense and is hype i can't think of anything, SO--

I do wanna get to some ooc messages but I can't promise I can get my brain in order to be coherent BUT ANYWAY, BEFORE THAT, dropping this asshole

Kim Minjun, 37, he/him, bloodsucker asshole baby~ Not in the literal sexy vampire sense, I mean he rose from the dirt and decided to make his living thriving off of what we made celebrity culture into, the very notion of celebrity culture itself

You want those pictures of Spider-man on your desk by Wednesday? You wanna know who's doing who and who's smoking what? You want exclusive details on a private party to start shit, get legal info acquired illegally just to have a story to tell about the latest celebrity divorce? Well, then Minjun's your fucking guy

Actually born Kim Jung-hoon but he changed it to Minjun because it sounds more... modern, fresh, better

He's a sleaze, a bit of a motherfucker honestly (forgive the cursing I'm matching his energy, his attitude), he doesn't care about the lives he could potentially be ruining, he operates according to the idea of 'well that's how this world works, don't like it? jump ship'

He'll dig up just about anything, he's started from being a sneaky piece of shit stalker following celebrities around to having built enough connections to be among the first to know when someone with a Reputation is entering this or the other club

But that's not even where his real forte is, oh no; gathering info is easy, figuring out how to get it around is difficult: who to sell it to? who's gonna pay the most, who's gonna turn into an enemy if you share the wrong name, the wrong location, expose the wrong people? no, he's good at finding shit, but the complexities of having to mind connections and be careful with who you drag into the dirt? not his favourite

What Minjun really excels at... is spinning shit around, he can turn the most innocuous of pictures into the drama of the century, by carefully nurturing doubts and rumours, he's a snake, a bastard

He's always hated the entertainment industry, he thinks himself above it, because he's not as desperate as them, he doesn't do what he does because he's otherwise got no worth in life, he doesn't sell his soul, he sells the souls of others

He doesn't think he's on the right side of history, oh no, by no means, he just thinks... well, don't become a celebrity if you don't want this treatment

The more I write about him the more I hate him lmao BUT GOOD WE NEED VILLAINS, UNREEDEEMABLE ONES

He comes from a relatively poor background, if comparing it to Hyun for example, but if he'd minded his business he would have just... lived a 'regular' life

He's particularly efficient when used as 'spy on the competition', new script ideas, new music ideas, new design ideas, you want to know what Shakespeare's next big play will be, Nicholas Bottom? well, then hit up this fucking clown

Only child, if his mother knew what he was up to she'd beat the shit out of him, he doesn't respect his father (haven't decided if he even lives still) but he does love his mother which is why he hasn't told her

Biromantic but he's a walking red flag so I hope the broadened pool of dating options doesn't fucking date him, demisexual

He can probably be fixed but WHY? why would you do that to yourself

He does have one little plus point, he's kind of like old school mafia in the sense that he doesn't mess with children, and anyone below 20 is a child to him, so he doesn't really mess with young idols and trainees

He actually hates the idol industry he thinks it's exploitative and abusive which is real fucking rich coming from him, but hey

I'LL WORK ON MORE ♥

#the bloodsucker;about #;ooc #i completely forgot about this aspect of my childhood it was kind of prevalent enough for a moment that it came back to me #that i have a relationship to chamomile tea and THAT'S WHAT IT WAS it's like a sugar rush or something #it doesn't help that i slept very badly tonight and my sleep-deprivation and the bags under my eyes #may be glamorous and fashionable but my brain's going so fast oh mgy DON FG #AND MY CONFIDENCE IS INCREASING AS I TYPE HOW ARE YOU #i'm on s1 finale of the bear and they weren't joking when they said it was good IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD #i almost cried at least once per episode just because i love these people being people #when i finished the first episode i literally sat through the credits because i was gaping at my screen #ANYWAYS PAPARAZZI BASTARD MAN #snuck in a musical reference did you see it #the voice they gave him in the witch in german was so good #the dub itself WAS WONKY but yknow #you know if Lynnie's beautiful magnificent celebrity verse were a show i could co write in #i'd kill this one off LMAO DFKLDLJSGFGLDFJGHJHFHKL #i'd also pitch a wedding episode for Deva & Aeri or just some-- GOSH i love THEM SO #i'm laughing at my own jokes btw if you hear something weird while reading this

[churipu]

BEAUTIFUL FEATURES 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing on gojo :)

note. while i'm working on chapter 5 of my killswitch lullaby series, i'm gonna upload something because i just got home from a get together with my big family, and part 5 of killswitch lullaby is still halfway done :(

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"you have freckles."

averting your eyes to gojo through the mirror in the bathroom, you nodded, "mhm, they've always been there," it's not like you've made them noticeable — so the reaction was expected, you never really liked them.

"why did i just notice them?" he asks, leaning his shoulder onto the doorway, "i mean — they look really pretty y/n."

pretty didn't sit well with you, especially not when you grow up hating that certain feature. chuckling out softly, you raised a brow, "they're not pretty, they're weird, 'toru."

the male blinks, "who said that?"

"everyone else but you—" he scoffs, throwing his face to the side with a lop-sided smirk, "what? why are you laughing?"

gojo shakes his head in denial, "fuck what they think — i think they're pretty, and they suit you. why would you hide it?" the blue eyed male watches your every move as your fingers pressed on the skin colored cushion onto your skin, sealing away the beautiful dots gracing across your cheeks.

"because i feel better without them." you nonchalantly answered, patting the cushion a few times to flatten the foundation. your freckles immediately drowned under it, disappearing from sight.

gojo was silent, his face was indescribable — and you don't know what he had in mind next. frankly, he's a little angry. not at you, anyone but you. the male then stepped towards you, throwing an arm around your waist, "can i ruin your make up just the slightest bit . . ?"

"yes, but 'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day . . . or two."

the blue eyed male chuckled, but he wasted no time wrapping his slender fingers around your wrist, peppering gentle kisses across your cheeks, right over the semi-wet foundation — leaving traces of his lips on your face. gojo didn't even care about the sticky substance graved on his lips.

pulling back, he seemed satisfied at his work of art. your make up ruined almost completely as your foundation was smeared away, the smooth layer now barely even there at all, and all was left was trails of his kisses over your sun kissed freckles.

"you're so beautiful, i'd kiss you right now — but i wouldn't want to get foundation in your mouth," he whispers, instead of leaning into your lips, he pressed his foundation laced lips along your forehead, engraving his lips on your skin.

"you're so cheesy—"

"way to ruin the moment, y/n. really great! you're lucky i love you," he grazed his thumb over his art, wiping away your foundation, "i love you and everything about you."

smiling lightly, you nod, "i love you too."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami traced his finger on your skin behind your ear, the tip of his finger grazing over the same spot again and again. his eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit, "what happened here?"

you glanced at him, "hm? what happened where?" the male didn't answer, but his finger traced your skin — specifically, where your birth mark laid. and he blinked slowly, "oh, i forgot about that. nothing happened there, 'ts my birth mark."

the male nods his head. his eyes never leaving the darker spot behind your ear, "i never knew you had one . . ." he mumbles out, a little upset he's never noticed such a beautiful feature on you through out the time he has been with you.

"i didn't want you to," you replied back.

nanami retracted his hand back, "are there any reasons why?"

craning your neck to face him, your e/c eyes averted around the room. anywhere but right at his eyes, "um . . . i don't think that my birth mark is an important feature, you know where i'm coming from?"

nanami in fact didn't, "unfortunately, not."

"i just don't think it's nice to look at," you tell him the truth, chuckling, "but i actually forgot that i had that behind my ear for a bit."

once again, his fingers flew to trace your birth mark, admiring it silently. strands of your hair gets tangled in between his fingers at the action, but the male wasn't pulling on it, "it's beautiful. you're beautiful."

"think so?" you asked.

nanami didn't answer you, but his hand cupped your face gently, pulling you close and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. it was a short kiss, but it was full of admiration and love, "i do. i mean it," he states out, gazing into your eyes.

"i love you, ken. you know that, right?"

"i love you more, y/n. you know that, right?"

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you'd think that your boyfriend wouldn't notice the way you strain back your smile from engulfing your face? frankly, thinking megumi wouldn't notice was something stupid — megumi notices everything, especially things about you. his partner.

"why do you do that?" he questions, leaning back onto the wall.

raising a brow at him in confusion, you replied back, "do what?"

"straining back your smile — why don't you just . . . smile?" his voice was quiet, but there was something behind it. not anger, not disappointment; megumi was just confused, was it something that he should be concerned about?

even if it wasn't, he is already concerned.

his question left your mind a little hazed, wondering if you should tell him the truth or just lie your way out of this. but (thankfully), you ended up with the first choice, "i didn't want to deepen my smile lines, they look weird."

now it was megumi's mind swirling with different questions, "smile lines? why— what? what?" he mutters under his breath — mind a little disintegrated.

"it leaves a mark behind, i don't like it—"

"you look fine." he cuts you off, "you have a nice smile, don't hold it back."

coming from someone like megumi, you thought it might have been the greatest compliment you have ever gotten the whole entire year. the first genuine smile popped out on your face after a bit, the apple of your cheeks rounding as you beam out at the male in delight, "really? you mean that?"

megumi sighs, nodding, "really."

"that means a lot to me, gumi. thank you," the male blinked — he wasn't sure what had gotten you so happy, surely it wasn't his compliment, is it?

it is, "yeah."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x reader

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family Steddie AU Part 3

Part One | Part Two

To preface, a bitch is sick rn so if you see any typos, no you didn't lol

"Robin, this is serious."

Steve can perfectly see Robin rolling her eyes through the phone as she says, "Oh, right, I'm so sorry your fiance-to-be is the perfect boyfriend who takes you on wonderful dates and romances you every single second you're together."

"I'm starting to think you're jealous."

"I'd only be jealous if Eddie had tits."

"He'd probably get some if I asked."

In the silence that follows, Steve can imagine Robin's scrunched face: her crinkled nose and curled lips and generally disgusted eyebrow furrow. He counts down from six in his head and then mouths along as Robin says, "I'd hang up if I weren't so invested in your love life."

"For someone so invested, you're not helping."

He hears a put-upon sigh through the speaker and returns it with a sigh of his own. Steve gives up on sitting properly and collapses back onto his bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan Hulyet is currently hanging from to nap.

"Fine, fine, what's the actual problem again?" Robin asks, her question followed by the sound of her shutting a book (one of her science textbooks based on the sound it makes when closing) so she can give Steve her full attention.

"Eddie is always planning our dates, and they're always really good, right? So I want to plan a date in return, but I have no clue how to plan something we'll both equally enjoy. In fact, I have no clue how Eddie plans our dates in the first place."

"Just start with something he likes and try to find something you'll like in it."

"Okay, say it again, but pretend I'm five."

Robin sighs again, and Steve hears the creaking of her bed as she collapses onto it. "Okay, the last date he planned, it was a hockey game, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, you like sports. Hockey is an obvious jump from there, but was Eddie also having fun at the game?"

Steve hums, reviewing their date from the week before. He hadn't expected Eddie to pull out hockey tickets, but he'd looked forward to it nonetheless. The game itself was fun, and the rink was cold enough that Steve had been able to scoot closer to Eddie and complain about being chilly.

Of course, Eddie's immediate response was to pull out a lighter, open it, and flick a flame to life while asking, "How big of a fire do you want, Stevie?"

For a brief moment, Steve had considered the question. But then he'd realized a fire would disrupt the hockey game, so they probably shouldn't start one.

After grabbing the lighter and stuffing it into his own pocket, Steve leaned closer and whispered, "Wouldn't you rather put your arm around me?" Eddie had lit up, and his smile was wide enough to make Steve feel blinded as he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him closer.

It had been wonderful and romantic, right up until both of them got way too into the game and completely forgot about cuddling in favor of shouting at the players to hit harder and actually draw some blood to get the puck.

Steve smiles a little at the memory. "Yeah, he enjoyed the violence."

"Well, we all enjoy seeing buff people get a little bloody," Robin says, and Steve can see the way she's nodding like a wise man. "Anyway, he probably knew he'd enjoy the whole violence part of the sport. So, follow that formula."

"What formula are you seeing here?"

"Thing fiance-to-be likes plus a small part of it you could probably enjoy equals romance. If that's too hard, just get him a gift and plan the date around that."

Well, it sounds easy when she says it like that. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because I'm the genius here, obviously. Now go plan a date so you can tell me all about it later. And I expect details, Steven. Sordid details. If I'm not quivering in my bodice, what's the fucking point."

"You don't even have a bodice. And my name isn't Steven."

"I'll get one, and your name is whatever's comedically appropriate."

"I found a good website for bodices and corsets, actually. I can send it to you."

"What are you doing on that website, Steve?" Robin asks, her voice light and eager.

Steve smirks, pulling the phone away from his ear and saying, "Wouldn't you like to know," before quickly hanging up. The phone stays silent for three whole seconds before Robin immediately calls back, but Steve is too busy laughing to actually pick up.

Part of why the Munsons moved to Steve's neighborhood is the cemetery within walking distance. The cemetery is at the very back of the neighborhood, hidden from people who don't actually live there. The front of the cemetery is perfectly presentable. The gravestones are clean and new, and flowers decorate most graves while others hold pebbles and stones of various sizes and colors.

The back of the cemetery, however, is a Munson paradise. The grass gives way to brown, under-watered weeds and dirt, the faded gravestones are covered in moss and plants climbing them, and the trees are perpetually leafless and spindly to create the perfect horror movie atmosphere. It was like that even before the Munsons moved to the neighborhood, but Steve doesn't actually know why.

The back of the cemetery is where Steve leads Eddie, occasionally looking back to make sure the blindfold covering Eddie's eyes is still in place. "You know, I was expecting more than walking when you pulled out the blindfold," Eddie says, squeezing Steve's hand.

"We're almost there," Steve promises, looking around them until he spots the picnic blanket and pillows he'd laid down earlier in front of a blank gravestone. There's a small projector on the edge of the blanket, facing the wall of a mausoleum, with a DVD player connected to it.

Steve stops at the edge of the blanket, takes a deep breath, and moves to stand in front of Eddie. "Okay," he says, reaching up and carefully pulling off the blindfold.

When it comes off, Eddie looks straight at Steve, not sparing a glance at the set-up behind him. "Are you the surprise?" he asks, sliding his hands around Steve's hips and pulling him closer.

"I'm not much of a surprise," Steve points out.

"You're the best gift I could ask for," Eddie says, sealing the words with a kiss that would be too easy for Steve to get lost in.

And he almost does, but he pulls away before Eddie's tongue can get too far into his mouth. "No, wait, you haven't seen the actual surprise," he mumbles, putting a few inches between them and gesturing to the picnic blanket.

Eddie's eyes light up, and he pulls Steve to the blanket. He sits against the headstone and tugs Steve down next to him. "Movie date in a graveyard? Very romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning close and kissing Steve's jaw.

"Well, that's not the whole surprise," Steve replies, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder. He hears a quiet hum from above him and adds, "This is our spot."

"What? Like a make-out spot? We gonna sneak out in the middle of the night to make out right here twice a week?"

"Only twice?" Steve asks, his voice teasing as he tilts his head back to see Eddie smile. He doesn't give Eddie the chance to answer, though. Instead, he takes Eddie's hand and plays with his engaged-to-be-engaged ring. "I mean, this is our spot. We're leaning on our gravestone."

A few seconds pass before Eddie seems to actually process the words. When he does, he straightens up, tugging Steve away from the gravestone with him so he can see it. "Is this...a couple's plot?" he asks, his eyes wide as he looks from the stone to Steve.

Steve flushes, heat rising in his cheeks as he looks away. He takes a deep breath, deciding to just verbalize his thought process when he'd bought the plot. "I figured, well, we wouldn't want to be apart even in death. So we'll be buried together, you know? Our corpses will be embracing as we rot for eternity, becoming skeletons and dust that will only know each other."

The words are followed by silence, making Steve wonder if he somehow fucked up with his gift. He braces himself and glances up at Eddie to ask if he doesn't like it only to be pushed back on the blanket. Steve blinks, his brain barely catching up as Eddie kisses him. This is, by far, the most desperate kiss Steve has ever received from Eddie. It's a kiss that's practically begging Steve to give Eddie permission to swallow him whole, tuck him securely into the marrow of his bones, and hold him there so they'll never be apart.

Steve is a little confused, but he's far more interested in kissing back, sliding his fingers into Eddie's hair and tugging playfully as he bites Eddie's tongue. A rough growl in response sends shivers down Steve's spine, goosebumps spreading across his arms as Eddie pushes his hands under Steve's shirt.

Surprisingly warm fingers trail across Steve's abdomen before Eddie's hands settle on his hips, his pinkies teasingly pushing past the waistband of his jeans. Steve sighs softly, relaxing at the familiar sensation as he hooks one of his legs over Eddie's waist, pulling him close until their hips and chests are flush against each other.

Eddie grins against Steve's lips, his left hand trailing down Steve's waist to rest on his thigh, holding it in place as he teasingly grinds their hips together. Steve jolts, a surprised, quiet moan escaping him as his hands start to tremble with adrenaline and...well, sheer horniness if he's being honest.

"Please tell me we can fuck on our future grave," Eddie says, his voice low and husky as he speaks against Steve's lips.

Steve groans, fully agreeable to the idea only to realize two very important things. One, he doesn't have any lube, and two, he was actually looking forward to watching movies with Eddie, which wouldn't really happen if they got too distracted. Plus, you know, the whole sex in public thing, but that's not as big of a deal. Who's going to be visiting the cemetery on a Wednesday?

But Steve doesn't want to completely dash Eddie's hopes and the sheer joy in his eyes at the idea, so he presses another kiss to his lips and promises, "Later, Eddie."

Despite his disappointed expression, Eddie doesn't argue. He just sits up, pulling Steve with him so he stays in his lap. "I'll hold you to that, sweetheart," he whispers, kissing down Steve's neck until he reaches the point where it meets his shoulder. He bites down there, causing Steve to inhale sharply as he licks and sucks a hickey onto his skin.

Steve shakily exhales, biting his bottom lip to keep himself grounded. When it feels like Eddie is about to start on another hickey, Steve uses his grip on his hair to pull him back. "Stevie," Eddie breathes, his eyes dark as he looks up at him, "you know what pulling does to me."

Steve snorts, kisses his cheek, and climbs off his lap. "Keep it in your pants for now, babe. I actually want to get to the other part of this date," he says, moving over to the projector.

"And what's that?" Eddie asks.

"Classic monster movies," Steve says, grinning at the excited gasp that comes from Eddie as he turns on the projector. Once it boots up, the mausoleum wall shows the opening menu for a Monster Movie Collection DVD. Steve puts on Frankenstein, making sure the movie actually starts and the opening credits begin rolling before climbing back into Eddie's lap.

"I love you so fucking much," Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and hugging him close as he rests his chin on Steve's shoulder.

Steve grins, leaning back against him and idly playing with one of the rings on Eddie's fingers. "I love you, too. Now shut up and watch the movie. No more making out until at least this one is over."

"Yes, sir."

Steve can't help a soft laugh. He takes Eddie's hand, raises it to his lips, and playfully bites his palm before lacing their fingers together and focusing on the movie.

Tag List: @estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, If anyone else wants to be tagged in potential future parts, just let me know!

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family steddie #addams! eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #there's a reference to Addams Family Values in here #whoever notices it please know I love you #also #for anyone who was curious about that lol #this au has consumed me body and soul

[signedkoko]

I'd like to ask for a Vox x fem!reader in which Vox accidentally forgot their anniversary (I am a Vox enjoyer and i think we need more of him)

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which Vox forgets your anniversary, and begins to panic that he hasn't got anything set up.

You'd had plenty anniversaries together by now, and he had never forgotten a single one

Having an internal calendar allowed him to be extremely consistent

Even so, with a busier year than ever, his comfort with always remembering seemed to have affected his ability to actually do so

When you wake up and immediately wish him a happy anniversary, he puts on the act of saying it back and going back to 'sleep', but the moment you've left the room he is PANICKING

He thanks the heavens that you weren't the kind to hide it until he did something, and it gave him time to put something together

Though you caught him off guard when you came back holding two pairs of shoes, asking which ones suited your outfit better

" You're going out? "

" No! God no, it's our day! But I was hoping we could go out for brunch? "

Thank god, that crossed the morning scheduling off the table! He was happily slipping into something more romantic business casual and chasing you out the door

He was already ready to call his driver, when you took his hand and started walking

" I hope it's okay, but I think I'd like to walk there today, just us. "

Vox thinks you are just too sweet to say no

He didn't like being out in the streets of pride so much because of all the staring, but on such a nice morning with you all dolled up by his side, it was worth it

You always liked looking around and leading him to new places he'd never spot, much like today

A small corner spot with many glass windows, decorated in growing plants and gold trimmings

A big neon sign was lit atop, reading 'Rockin Johnny's', and when you entered the whole place was decorated in retro vintage diner style

It wasn't exactly the upscale place he had in mind, but you insisted and sat in one of the booths, surrounded mostly by hellborns

For about an hour or so, you both delved into cheap meals that were surprisingly good, talking about things you both enjoyed and sharing memories from the past

Vox couldn't help but feel guilty, seeing you so happy about today when he hadn't done a thing

" Listen, doll, I don't mean to ruin anything but, I completely forgot it was our anniversary today. "

" Well, duh! I wiped it! "

He paused, seeing you hold up a memory card

No one else had ever done that to him before, not for a long time, but you had an opportunity where no one else did, he trusted you

" I promise to give it back! It's just, I wanted to surprise you this year and I couldn't do that without asking or, you know, this. "

You gave it back to him immediately, and the warlords silence finally broke with a hearty laugh

You were too adorable, and admittedly clever

Though, he's especially interested in hearing what you'd done to surprise him

Not that you were bad at them, but he had a lot more resources than you did

" Two tickets to Ozzies! I had to put us on the waitlist like, months ago! "

For a moment, hes surprised you managed to get them, but then, he laughed again

" Ah, and two sinners are going to leave the pride ring? "

" Oh, I got a pardon from Lucifer! "

...

Absolutely blue screens for a hot second there

How in hell did you get a pardon? From Lucifer?? Not only were they rare, but what you'd have to do to even get one in the first place is unimaginable!

Not sure how he can beat you next year, because dear lord if you pull out all the stops imaginable

Author's Note - Bet youd didnt expect THAT!! Allow me to surpris ethe reader instead!!!! Thank you for requesting <3

#koko writez #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #vox #vox x reader

[harrystylesfan2686]

Stay With Me Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the aftermath of your fall.

Warning: Unedited.

A/N: I know I've got those dialogue fics to write and I will!! But I just couldn't resist giving these babies their happy ending.😭

Part 1 Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

The first thing you feel as consciousness seeps into you is the warmth of laying on something soft. Then the pain came, not much but a dull ach felt from your abdomen. You try to open your eyes but the sunlight coming from the windows make you squint and turn your head to the side.

The light suddenly goes away and you a hear a rough voice, "You're awake." Your eyes finally open, slowing the darkness fadding into light as you look around and try you see where you are at. A room that looks like one you have comes into view and you look at the source of the voice.

Azriel stands near the window, curtains closed, signaling he shut them upon seeing your discomfort. Unsure of what to say, you try to sit up. Groaning where the ach in your stomach increases slightly. "Careful. You're still not completely healed." Az comes to your side, kneeling beside the bed and helps you lean on the bedrest.

He silently removes the cap from a glass of water beside you on the table and lifts if up to your mouth, quietly ordering you to drink it. You obey, taking small sips and hum when the strache in your throat eases. He puts the glass back to it's place when you finish and you use the time to observe him.

Something terrible must've happened because there are dark circles around his eyes and his pale skin implies he hasn't eaten well in days. His hair and clothes are touloused and you try to not stare at his distressed look. He's rarely ever not out of shape so seeing him like this shocks you a little.

You are still staring at him when he looks back to you and everything comes back to you. The storm, the fall, the trap and the blood. Your eyes widen as you remember everything and look down at yourself. Your shoots out to touch the place where your injury would've been, but when you feel nothing, your skin healed except for gaint holes scars lining up your body, you frown in confusion.

Surely a wound that bad wouldn't have healed in a night, how long were you asleep?

"It's mostly healed but you'll still feel discomfort and dizziness for a while." Azriel says, you feel his eyes on you.

"How long was I alseep?" You trace the scars lightly, feeling minor sensations, ignoring the fact that only a small piece of undergarment is covering your breasts and the rest of your upper body is bare.

"Three days." Your head snaps to look at him. "Three days?!" You eco, voice pitching high in shock.

"Madja said that the pikes of the trap had poison in them, prolonging your pain and preventing your body to heal itself. That's why you couldn't wake up and you will still feel the effects of it for days." His voice sounding strained.

"Oh." You sigh.

"Eris said that during Amarantha's rule, traps like the one we saw were made, to keep safe from the monsters she unleashed. Most of them were taken out but the there were some left, which couldn't be because people forgot where they were put. The one you fell into was one of them." He lifts his hand to hold yours, gently moving circles on the back of your arm with his thumb.

"Eris didn't seem at all guilty about not telling us, that bastard." His jaw clenched in anger.

"It's alright Az." Your try to calm him.

"No. It's not. Your could've bloody died. How can you forgive him so easily?" The look is his eyes promises death as he looks at you but you don't fear him knowing this time the anger isn't directed to you.

"I don't forgive him. But there was no way he could've known I'd fall into one."

"No but he could've at least warned us! You nearly died Y/N! Do you realize how I miserable I felt in that moment. When I saw you in It's hold, I felt a kind of panic I have never felt before. And the blood. I didn't know what do to. I would've done anything to save you then, even if I had to give my soul, I would've."

You can't seem to recall words as you look at him. He shakes his head and looks down, avoiding your eyes, glancing between your scares and his hand that's cluching onto yours.

"Darling, I-" Hearing the very nickname he often used to mock you with, now laced with fear for you makes your heart skip a beat. "The sight of you laying like that, defenseless in the pool of your own blood, barely breathing-" His face wholly crumbles. You don't say anything, letting him lay his heart bare for you.

"It has been haunting me. Since the second Rhysand got to us and Magda healed you. I have been dying to see your eyes again, see you frown at me and tuant me-" His voice cracks as tears start falling down his face. "I love you so much. Please don't ever leave me like that again. I'll die if you don't stay with me."

You hug him the second he finishes speaking, wrapping arm around his waist and the other to his neck, burying your fingers in his hair and his hugs you back, crushing his body to yours and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Hearing soft cries, you cannot control your own. Each other's tears soaking you both as you bask in the others arms.

"I will never leave you, Azriel." After a moment you pull back, just a little to look into his eyes so that he can see the truth and love in them. "I love you so much. I will always stay with you, even if you tell me not too." He nods once whimpering out a small please, as if that's all he can say right now, and your heart breaks.

"I love you. So much." You kiss his forehead, moving down to his cheeks and nose, you're both hands now at the sides of his face and his can't seem to leave your waist. "My mate." You both smile, laughing a little and you look at him. Truly look at him, admiring his yellow onyx eyes that gloss from the tears pooling in them, loving the way he's watching you with so much love.

"I love you, Azriel." You kiss him, slowing resting your lips to his, pouring all your love into it and promising yourselves to the other forever.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Tagging: @that-one-little-soybean

#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel x yn #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter sixteen — doxxing is okay sometimes 💋

The entire drive back to your house, Scaramouche wondered why he was always put into compromising situations. It wasn't the late hour, or the otherwise deserted roads other than the usual few vehicles being dime a dozen.

No...it was that he was chauffeuring the only person he didn't want to be within a ten foot pole radius from. Softly, your laughter was still emitting from your lips as your head lolled back and forth.

His eyebrows knitted together in frustration, grip tightening on the steering wheel. He was annoyed, but knowing this was the quietest that he'll ever see you was more comforting than not being perceived.

Texts from his phone illuminating a section under his arm as his eyes kept flicking back and forth, he knew it was Ei bothering him again. Her poking and prodding the gnawing that he always felt being around her.

Pulling into your driveway, he brought his car in enough to quickly get you out. Tohma quickly headed into eye view to hurry towards the other side of the door. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I'd do if they weren't able to get home."

He sighed in response, turning off the engine. "Is that all?"

"Yeah...(Y/N)?" Tohma paused, his gaze lingered on you. "They're completely out."

"Keen observation." Scaramouche sarcastically quipped.

Tohma looked at the other before hesitantly rounding you up, careful not to jostle you as he helped your limp body out of the car. Your body soon enough became less languid, eyes slowly opening.

You mumbled something unintelligible in response, your words slurred. "Scaramouche," You made out, blinking blearily before you felt a certain rage overcome your body again. "Where is he?!"

Your steps were unsteady as you leaned against Tohma for leverage, but you were also thrashing to turn and find the person you were screaming at through Twitter earlier.

"(Y/N)...take it easy-!" His words were drowned out by your fervent rage, your gaze was wild as you scanned the surroundings, only to see the very person you were talking about.

"YOU." Your voice rose to a shout, staggering towards him. "Had some nerve coming to my house!" You shouted, tears welling in your eyes as your vision went in and out, "My friends hate me because of you! I will fucking see to it that you are destroyed by my very hands!" You screamed, causing Tohma to panic.

"I'm really sorry! Thank you...again-! (Y/N), please stop." Tohma struggled out. He felt like he was on the verge of a brain aneurysm any second now.

He lunged towards you to hold you back from attacking Scaramouche, but as soon as you did that, you were about to speak again. And then you regurgitated, your body convulsed until you were retching violently, doubling over.

"Oh my god," Tohma mouthed silently, his body frozen.

It was a sight to behold - Scaramouche's dark clothes were colored in a murky brown shade of vomit. But instead of what Tohma thought he was going to do, it was the complete opposite. He didn't recoil in horror, he didn't scream or curse, he simply just stood there, expression unreadable.

He was probably so pissed off that he forgot that he was initially having a horrible day.

"Okay! Okay!!" Tohma said in between two deep breaths, holding you in between his arms even tighter despite your struggling. "Scaramouche. Please let me help you clean up before you leave."

“No.” He replied with a sudden urgency that seethed through his teeth, flicking some of the chunks of sick off of his fingers. “Absolutely not. I’m going home.”

“I’m saying this with all due respect despite everything you’ve done. You can’t go home looking like that, I won’t let you.”

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo @justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @melpomenelurks @keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi @kyon-cherri @1lellykins @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles @kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @pichulakkjkk @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3 @alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith @kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan @yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123 @strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway @agaygothicmushroom @levianamor (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

#zoropookie #hhab #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x you #genshin x yn #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x you

[dameare]

Personal Brand of Heater | Jacob Black x Fem!Reader (Oneshot)

Word count: 1,899

Summary: The first time I had kissed Jacob was entirely an accident. That was how I wanted to think about it, at least.

Silly notes: So... it was 4am... and it was cold, so at the time writing this made a lot of sense. Plus I was lonely and destructively pining for the one and only, Jacob Black. *hands you this fic* Enjoy!

The first time I had kissed Jacob was entirely an accident. That was how I wanted to think about it, at least.

Winter was just by the horizon, approaching with a certain quiet inevitability, and a blanket of darkness was beginning to unfurl itself across the landscape—and Forks, being the cold and sleepy town that it was, made the first hints of a wintry burden a lot more obvious.

So it was cold. And it was just that there was something about cuddling with Jacob in the middle of the night that did it for me. It made total sense: I was freezing, and Jacob was hot. Literally. Like my personal brand of heater. And maybe I also liked him a little bit. Or a little too much. Or maybe I was in-love. It was the only explanation, even though before what had happened I'd hardly given myself enough time to even name what I'd started to feel for Jake.

It sounded stupid at first, being in-love with Jake. There was no way. But the more I thought about it, the more convinced and horrified I became. That stupid fluttery feeling in my stomach whenever Jake looked at me. I'd thought about the way my chest sometimes felt like it was going to explode when he hugged me, or the way my stomach dropped and twisted at the thought of Jacob hugging a different woman that wasn’t me. God, I was in-love. Of course I was. But even that wasn’t reasonable enough to accidentally kiss him.

So when I had had the clever idea of hitting Jacob up to “hang out” at two in the morning and he didn’t reply, I'd assumed that would be the end of it, and that I would have to curl up in bed, alone and feverish from the chills the night brought.

But that wasn’t the case, and I had only realised this when Jacob was already launching himself through my second-story window and then into my room with a stealthy thud. The dumbass.

I looked at him, stunned. “Jake, what the hell?”

“Whew, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Jacob said, a wide and pleasant grin of mockery spreading across his face—the one that made my stomach do the dumb flip thing. GAH. “I’m sure you don’t really mind.”

“I don’t,” I said automatically. I wasn't stunned at seeing him anymore, because he wasn’t wearing a shirt and I was stunned at something else instead. The pale moonlight sneaking in through my open window made his russet skin look richer. He looked ethereal. The dangerous kind of ethereal. “Do you ever get cold?” I asked dumbly, trying to shift my focus.

Jacob laughed. “Didn’t you already ask that before?”

“I did? Maybe I forgot.” And maybe I had also forgotten how to talk.

He opened his mouth, looking like he was about to crack a joke, but something made him change his expression. Instead, worry creased his forehead, and he inched closer to me.

He was huge, and he leaned over me, so huge that his shadow made my little room look darker. I was looking up at him, completely overwhelmed—my head was pounding and my chest was freaking out and the fever, which I had momentarily forgotten about ever since he came in, came hitting me again. I swayed unsteadily, legs going slightly limp. Jacob grabbed me easily by the waist. “Hey, hey. Is everything okay?” He whispered anxiously, slowly easing me towards the edge of the bed. “You’re shivering, why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Are you cold?”

I only managed to nod before my legs gave way, plopping into a weak heap on the bed.

His hand was really warm. “Jesus christ, you’re freezing. Don’t you have a heater somewhere?”

I shivered uselessly on the bed, delirious. He watched me for one long moment, hesitating. Then he snuck to my side and began settling down onto the bed, and before I could even begin to protest, his arms were already wrapped around me—one arm under my head and the other tightly snug around my waist. And then I wasn't protesting anymore.

I let my head rest against his bare chest. “You’re so warm,” I muttered, the words muffled out by his chest. The heat was so inviting, so comfortable that I didn’t want to pull away. Not that I could ever, even if I had the energy to. The warmth seeped into my skin, the icy grips of the night slowly melting away.

Jacob chuckled, pleased. “That better? Don’t move too much, alright. Save your energy for me. I’ll warm you up.”

“What about you?” I exhaled heavily. “You’re going to freeze.”

“Not really,” he promised. “Hey, say, why don’t you try sleeping? What’s kept you up this late?”

I thought for a second. "Hypothetically," I said, my mind gaining clarity. "If you weren't a werewolf anymore and you lived in the city, what's the first thing you'd do?"

I felt his chest stop at a chuckle, and then there was silence. When it dragged on for a moment too long, I tilted my head to look at his expression. He was staring into the distance, where I'd put up a bunch of city photos for my vision board. His eyes seemed to light up. "If I weren't a werewolf anymore," he mused. "I'd try out all the burgers in the city and check out what they sell in Walmart. I heard they sell weird stuff there... and then maybe I'd go shopping in one of those big malls... get a job... go to a university."

I snorted. "Wow okay, I understand the rest, but Walmart? Really?"

"Don't judge me," he met my eyes, suddenly defensive. He smiled playfully and pushed my hair out of my face. "Let's hear yours. If you decided to live in the city, away from... all of this. What would you do?"

There was hardly any need to think, because it was all I ever thought about during my first summer in Forks. And it was hardly even a summer, really, because it rained all the time and it was still cold even on the good days where the sun was slightly more visible. "I would live by myself in the city, in a small apartment. Like a normal person," I said, wincing at the last part, because all things considered, I thought the word *normal* just didn't exist in Forks anymore, and saying it felt like a major offense. He nodded, and I went on, "I would go to bookstores and those loud concerts... and then go for a late night drive after, you know? Just drive for hours without a destination. It kind of sounds nice. It's like surrendering all your worries for one night. I think that kind of freedom would make me feel lighter."

I watched his face. He laughed at first, saying, "Your answer makes mine look like child's play."

"I'd try out every burger with you, and go to every Walmart conceivable." I offered.

"You'd do that?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

He grinned. "Well, I'd carry your books for you, and I'd drive you across the city for as long as you want. Sounds fair?"

"So it's a promise." I smirked.

"Hah well, not that my being a werewolf can stop me from making you happy," he said. Then he tightened his grip just a bit and lifted me effortlessly, setting me on top of him. "Is this better?"

I hummed a yes, suddenly finding it very, very difficult to breathe. "You're... really warm," I sighed.

He smiled softly. It looked so much better up close, so much so that my stomach did that weird flippy thing again. "You said that earlier. Although," a sheen of mischief lit his eyes up, "if you want to feel warmer you could always just take your clothes off."

"Jacob," I warned, a smile threatening to break out of my face. "Shut up, will you?"

"Survival one-oh-one," he teased.

"Saying that isn't really a friends thing."

He raised one eyebrow, curious. "Oh so taking your clothes off is where you draw the line?"

"Like every sane person, ever, duh."

"Well, cuddling like this isn't really a friends thing either," he retorted.

My face flushed red. "What do you mean?"

"The way I hold you," he said quietly, with a sudden hint of seriousness to his voice. "Is this how friends are supposed to roll?" He asked, his face speculative.

I stayed quiet. I wasn't breathing again. It was the question, and maybe the way the gentle glow of the moon was casted upon his face. His eyes twinkled in the light, like pools of rich and velvety chocolate. He was sort of beautiful that I didn't want to breathe ever again. He stared right through me, watchful and interested. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, and our breaths mixed with how close our faces were. It was so warm and so right.

My gaze flickered from his eyes to his mouth, then back again. His mouth tugged up at one corner, as if he had the faintest idea of what I was thinking—and maybe, just maybe, he thought the same.

It was slow, but also quick in a weird way—not quick as in like something in the heat of the moment, but quick enough that I couldn't register what was happening, and slow enough for me to remember every single detail—slow enough for me to conclude that it really wasn't an accident.

His hand gently made its way to the small of my back. He rubbed gently, and I leaned in, our faces inching even closer; I could hear my heartbeat loud against my chest, so loud maybe he'd heard it too. But his eyes were fixed, mesmerised as I moved in. Our noses touched and he inched to the side, nudging forward with the tip of his chin; he glanced at my mouth, then flickered quickly back to my eyes.

There was a momentary pause where our faces both hovered, so close and mellow and sure, and I ached in anticipation. I stole one more glance at his mouth, and then I was sighing into the kiss, the aches and worries leaving my body. His lips were hot, and it scorched against mine, but god he was so gentle—like a gentle rush of air through leaves. The kiss stayed warm and slow, almost exploratory, but there was also a sliver of hunger shoved in between—like Jacob had been dying to do this for a while, and when he finally did he couldn't stop anymore. My lower lip caught delicately in his teeth, and he sucked on it; I allowed him, because I loved exploring his mouth just as much—in an almost obsessive manner. My tongue wandered, the pleasant taste of something woodsy settling into my mouth.

When we pulled apart, it was with soft gasps and fitful smiles and chuckles. He patted my head. "Was that also a friends thing?"

"Nothing about us is friendly," I finally admitted.

"So that means...?"

"I want to be your girlfriend, Jake."

His face stretched out into a huge grin. It was contagious. "Took you long enough, my little moon."

"Is that a yes?" I pinched him lightly.

He chuckled. "Do you want to go at it again for an answer?"

#twilight saga #jacob black #the twilight saga #edward cullen #jacob black x reader #jacob black fluff #fluff #twilight fluff #twilight imagine #jacob black imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #self insert #imprint #breaking dawn #twilight new moon #twilight eclipse #twilight revival #the cullens

[reythenerdypisces]

things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 2: Sea of Monsters

there is a lot this time.

this book is so short and it makes up for the length by being hilarious: 

I had nightmares about what Poseidon might turn me into if I were ever on the verge of death - plankton, maybe. Or a floating patch of kelp.

Tyson froze. "Pony!" he cried in total rapture. Chiron turned looking offended. "I beg your pardon?" 

"Um..." I said. "Would this be the super-dangerous prophecy that has me in it, but the gods have forbidden you to tell me about it? Nobody answered. "Right," I muttered. "Just checking." 

"Uh, I like Hercules." "Why?" "Well, because he had rotten luck. Even worse than mine. It makes me feel better."

Annabeth looked at me. "We have to get out of here." "You think I want to be in the girls' restroom?" "I mean the ship, Percy! We have to get off the ship."

Tyson was terrified of them. All throughout the tour, he insisted Annabeth hold his hand, which she didn't look too thrilled about.

"Then why do the gods even let me live? It would be safer to kill me." "You're right." "Thanks a lot." 

A minute later, Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately, she found something else to put it against. Unfortunately, that something was my face. 

As Luke was raising his sword to rally his troops, a centaur shot a custom-made arrow with a leather boxing glove on the end. It smacked Luke in the face and sent him crashing into the swimming pool. and a few moments later: He [Luke] raised his sword, but got smacked in the face with another boxing glove arrow, and sat down hard in a deck chair. Luke can't catch a break from those boxing arrows, it's the funniest thing

2. also so much baby percabeth!! they’re so cute

She'd [Annabeth] emailed me the picture after spring break, and every once in a while I'd look at it just to remind myself she was real and Camp Half-Blood hadn't just been in my imagination. the fact that he printed out Annabeth's photo? 

Annabeth punched him in the nose and knocked him flat, "And you," she told him, "lay off my friend." her standing up for Percy is adorable

I mean she [Annabeth] looked good. Really good. I probably would've been tongue-tied if I could say anything except reet, reet, reet.

She [Annabeth] started to sob - I mean horrible, heartbroken sobbing. She put her head on my shoulder and I held her. Fish gathered to look at us - a school of barracudas, some curious marlins. Scram! I told them. They swam off, but I could tell they went reluctantly. I swear I understood their intentions. They were about to start rumours flying around the sea about the son of Poseidon and some girl at the bottom of Siren Bay. number 1. the way percy is always there for her, number 2. the gossiping fish?? I love it

The look in his [Grover] eyes told me something was terribly wrong. Annabeth had been on guard duty that night, protecting the Fleece. If something had happened -he’s admirably protective, of not just annabeth, but all his friends and I love to see it… exhibit b:

"But if I [Grover] get in trouble again, you'll be in danger, Percy! You could die!" "If you get in trouble again, I want to know about it. And I'll come help you again G-man. I wouldn't have it any other way." I adore their friendship.

3. other mentions: 

"I'm Thalia," the girl said. "Daughter of Zeus." what. an. ending. I still remember how floored I was when I first read this wow

the mention of Hylla got me so excited

am I the only one who forgot Percy could control the sailboat? like the flying ropes and whatnot

I also completely forgot about his watch shield! 

I'll be back for part 3 shortly! :)

#sea of monsters #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #rick riordan #percabeth #annabeth chase #grover underwood

[suzukiblu]

Been looking through your assorted aus page and the link for "weird amnesia Timberkon"/"for the game young" is broken (as in, the tag does not appear to exist). It seems like you put a lot of time into that page so I figured you'd want to know (and also selfishly I am very interested in finding out what weird amnesia timberkon entails)

WHOOPS, my bad, messed that one up. Should be all fixed on the page now, though! Oddly I only seem to have one teeny lil' snippet up for that AU, to my surprise, could've sworn I'd posted more? Sooooo as thanks for catching that busted link for me, have a nice big chunk of the WIP behind this read-more, hah.

So Superboy is apparently an idiot. Then again, whatever, if Bernard were an indestructible telekinetic half-alien he would probably also not worry too much about looking subtle in his civvies or maintaining a secret identity, and also it's been a while since he's heard anything about the guy doing any active superheroing anyway so maybe Superboy is just assuming that the entire planet somehow forgot about his teen heartthrob superhero posters and all those close-up high-def publicity shots of his very public face and whatever? Oh, and also that one time that he literally fucking died to save the whole freaking world and the big ol' memorial statue. Statues? There might've been two, come to think. 

So maybe an idiot. 

A very hot idiot, though. 

Well, whatever, Bernard figures, taking a sip of his boba tea and idly watching Superboy check out his boyfriend from the far side of the cafe like he's a sad puppy in a shop window who just wants a little love. Tim is looking at his phone and appears oblivious to Superboy's existence. 

Bernard assumes Tim's doing that thing where he pretends to not be Robin, for obvious reasons. That thing remains adorable but is getting increasingly less convincing as time goes on. Like, he really doesn't know what Tim actually thinks he thinks he does in his downtime? There is no logical reason for a civilian to be either as ripped or as scarred as Tim Drake is, but part of being Tim Drake's boyfriend is pretending to be oblivious to those facts and also never questioning his flimsy excuses to run off at a moment's notice or disappear during a crisis or whatever else. 

Bernard tries to figure out how to politely extricate himself from the situation for long enough for Tim to go check up on Superboy, because Superboy very clearly needs to be checked up on. Unfortunately he went to the bathroom like ten minutes before the guy walked in all sad-puppy so the obvious option is out, and Tim knows damn well he isn't gonna call his parents for anything less than a full-on emergency, and his friends it'd be weird not to just text, and . . . fuck, he doesn't know. He needs an angle here. 

"I'll be right back, babe, just gotta duck into the bathroom real quick," Tim says, glancing up from his phone with an apologetic smile. Bernard relaxes slightly. Okay, that works, thank you, Bat-planning. Superboy can just follow Tim back to the bathroom and they can do whatever superhero sidebar they need to do back there. 

But then Tim gets up, gives him a peck on the cheek, and heads back to the bathroom, and Superboy . . . doesn't follow him. 

The hell? 

Bernard represses a frown and takes another sip of his boba. Superboy continues not to follow Tim. He just sits there at his own little table with his completely untouched drink, looking like the saddest puppy that has ever sadded. 

Bernard is mystified. 

Are they having a fight, maybe? Is Tim ignoring Superboy because of that, not the secret ID stuff? That seems weird and not very Tim-like, fighting or not. But Superboy's in Gotham and came into the cafe after they did, so he can't be the one avoiding Tim. But also he didn't follow him to the bathroom when presented with the very unsubtle opportunity to do so, so . . . what the hell? 

Weird. 

Bernard takes yet another sip of boba and keeps watching Superboy. Superboy seems oblivious to said watching, but he guesses the guy is pretty famous and is a very public superhero and is always doing impressive shit and all that, so he's probably used to being watched. Oh, and also he's stupid, stupid hot. 

Bernard cannot imagine being this used to attention, but apparently Superboy is. Bernard, of course, is not a punk idol superhero built like a porn star and a supermodel had a threeway with a bodybuilder. So like, that particular bit of mental dissonance probably makes sense and all. Life experiences are not universal, and all that. 

Especially not when the life experience one is comparing oneself to started in a cloning tube. 

Well, it's not like it's a burden for Bernard to have a free pass on checking out a hottie while he waits for Tim to come back from, presumably, waiting for Superboy to come and talk to him. Which Superboy is just . . . not doing, still. Inexplicably. 

Still, sad puppy or not, Superboy's civvies look damn good on him, so that's something. Bernard's enjoying them, like as an aesthetic experience and everything. Superboy's wearing an unbuttoned red flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves over a very tight black tank top and even tighter light wash skinny jeans that are bafflingly intact, considering the fact that a dude with Kryptonian-level super-strength is currently vacuum-sealed into them. 

Does tactile telekinesis work on skinny jeans? Is that a thing? Like, are Superboy's jeans currently indestructible? 

That sounds amazing, actually. 

Also, those buckled-up black leather boots he's wearing look like they could straight-up kill a dude, Kryptonian power-assist or not. And the shiny mirrored sunglasses and ridiculous multitude of even shinier gold piercings all suit the guy, somehow, and even without looking like too much. 

Relatedly, Superboy's tank top is very, very tight. 

Also relatedly, his nipples are apparently pierced. 

And so is his belly button, it looks like. 

Ngh. 

Superboy's vacuum-sealed jeans are not quite tight enough for Bernard to figure out if he's got any below the spike-studded belt piercings, but his imagination is happy to fill in the blanks there. He's tempted to ask for Tim's theories on the existence of any such piercings, because yeah Superboy has super-hearing but Bernard has no shame and Tim logically should know, buuuuut he's still pretending not to know Tim is Robin so yeah, probably he shouldn't do that. 

He could start a new conspiracy board for it, maybe. That'd be fun. 

Superboy also has leather cuffs on his wrists and mismatched rings and necklaces and a really hot fade haircut that is noticeably windswept, and really, really looks like something that Bernard would like to see somebody dig their fingers into. Just–look, there's curls. Bernard cannot be blamed for curls. 

And he's trying not to eye the cuff bracelets too much, but they provide very nice inspiration for a certain style of kinky thoughts. Not that Superboy couldn't snap basically any set of cuffs that wasn't made of kryptonite or promethium or like a magical kryptonite-promethium alloy or whatever without even trying, obviously, but like, somehow the thought of the guy having to restrain himself more than anything else makes the whole mental image hotter? Like, somehow? 

Bernard pictures Superboy wearing a pair of cheap flimsy sex toy handcuffs and trying very, very hard to keep himself in them while someone else takes very careful inventory of all his piercings, wherever and whatever they all just so happen to be. 

Jesus. Yeah, there's a thought. 

Is it weird to consider flirting up your boyfriend's superhero bestie while he's badly pretending to be a civilian, Bernard wonders? Is that a thing? 

Probably, but he still has no shame and is also in an open relationship, so whatever. 

Hell, who knows, in retrospect maybe Tim actually arranged this setup specifically for Bernard to get an eyeful of his work crush. Like, Bernard always felt like Robin and Superboy had some significant UST going back in the day. Maybe Tim wants to finally do something about that, and the setup idea sounds like a very "Bat" approach to doing said something. And it'd explain why Superboy didn't follow Tim to the bathroom and maybe even why he's coming across kind of anxious right now, if he's trying to psych himself up to come over or something. Like, if he's nervous about making a good impression, though Bernard cannot imagine why he ever would be. Well, not like Supers are known for their undercover skills, so . . . 

Either way, if that's the plan, Bernard is very fine with it, so he decides to go find out for himself and picks up his drink to head over and chat the guy up. Worst case scenario, he’s just gotten his hopes up a little, he figures. Best case, he’s putting Superboy out of his “oh god, how do I do undercover” misery. 

"Mind if I sit?" he asks, and flashes Superboy a grin as he gestures at the empty seat at the other half of his table. Superboy looks weirdly startled, like he somehow expected to go unnoticed despite being a literal superhero who is also unspeakably hot and is also wearing very, very tight clothes that he's this close to busting out of. Like, at least half a dozen girls are actively checking him out right now, as is the dude behind the counter and the old guy on the sidewalk outside who’s busy badly pretending to be reading the outdoor menu board instead of checking out Superboy’s ass through the front window. 

So yeah, Bernard really does not understand that apparent assumption. 

Come to think, maybe Superboy has some self-esteem issues or something. Bernard admittedly might also have self-esteem issues if he were Superman's clone. Then again, if he were Superman's clone, he would look like Superman and also be very aware of how Superman himself looks, sooooo . . . 

Seriously, "younger and sexier punk rock Superman" is not a vibe that Bernard can imagine going ignored all that often. Or ever. 

“Uh–what?” Superboy says. 

“I’ve been temporarily abandoned by my boyfriend and I’m easily bored,” Bernard clarifies politely, though obviously Superboy was staring at Tim long enough to have noticed said abandonment the moment it happened. “So, mind if I sit?” 

“I–sure?” Superboy says, looking nervous. Bernard puts another tally in the “too bad at undercover work to follow the Bat-plan” column. Whatever, the guy’s trying his best, he’s not gonna judge him. 

There's a pin on the inside of Superboy’s flannel, Bernard notices as the other shifts awkwardly in his seat, and is vaguely puzzled by the sight of it. Like, it's just a little thing and he doubts he'd have even seen it if he weren't in this close to the guy, but . . . 

Just–yeah. Little pin. Just like a cheap little round button, like the kind that comes out of the dollar bin at all sorts of random stores. And it's hidden inside Superboy's flannel, mostly, but it's definitely got the S-shield on it. 

Bernard is perplexed. Even in Gotham, it's not like it's weird to see people wearing Superman merch. So like, why is Superboy hiding that?

“Cool,” he says as he files that away as a little oddity, and takes the empty seat. Superboy continues to look nervous. Bernard continues to work on figuring out if his weird Bat-boyfriend who he’s not supposed to know is a Bat set him up on a blind date with his superhero bestie. The nervousness supports the theory, anyway. 

Man, this dude really is even prettier up close. How was he Tim’s bisexual awakening with this guy around and in close quarters with him? Like, he’s flattered, don’t get him wrong, but also maybe Tim has some vision problems and he should get that checked out before it inconveniences his nightlife. 

"Sooooo like . . . what do I call you?" Bernard asks, peering across the table at him curiously. "Because the obvious option seems like a bad idea, obviously.” 

"‘The obvious option’?" Superboy stops looking nervous long enough to look confused instead. 

"Yeah?" Bernard says, cocking his head. Superboy cannot possibly think he’s being subtle here, so . . . "I mean, I assume you don't go by 'Superboy' when you're dressed like that. Like, that's the whole point of being dressed like that, right?" 

Superboy stares blankly at him. Bernard cocks his head the other way, now officially the confused one. 

"What?" Superboy says. 

"Okay, sorry, this is the thing where you-know-who still insists on pretending he's not Robin, isn't it," Bernard realizes, which he really should've realized would be a thing from the start. He supposes that makes sense even with Superboy’s total lack of subtlety, though, superheroes probably do have to really commit to that thing. Especially ones who work for Batman and Superman. Or . . . just around Superman, maybe? Bernard is not fully clear on that particular superhero hierarchy. "My bad. So, uh, what do I call you, because there is obviously no obvious option. Obviously.” 

"You . . . recognize me?" Superboy croaks. 

"Uh," Bernard says, brow furrowing in bemusement at the very weird expression the guy's currently wearing. "Yes? No offense, you're kind of recognizable. Like, do you even have a secret identity? I mean, you're a clone, right, and I know you were just doing the full-time hero thing in at least Hawaii, so I actually have no idea if you ever bothered making one up or not?” 

"You recognize me," Superboy chokes, just staring at him, and then bursts into tears. 

. . . well, that can't be good.

#timberkon #timbern #bernard dowd #kon el #conner kent #tim drake #superboy #dc robin #wip: weird amnesia timberkon #long post #anonymous #rinfic

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 5

Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wingman for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Part 1 2 3 4

a/n: I wanted to get this chapter out before Flight of Icarus on Halloween. I am MILKING that preview we got for all it's worth. I want y'all to know in this chapter I am projecting HARD on what I think the book will be like and how it will affect Eddie. Also say thank you to @hellfiredarling and @crocwork-clockodile because without them, this wouldn't have gone past 2 chapters. Also shout out to @hellfiredarling for letting me borrow her OC Tara for this fic as well. 💜

WARNINGS: This chapter discusses the Ozzy Osbourne Bat Incident. Nothing is really talked about in graphic detail, but I figured I'd throw that out there, just in case.

Eddie Munson would never consider himself a homewrecker. He was a lot of things; a freak, a metal head, the occasional dealer, a musician, but never a homewrecker. 

But he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy flirting with you as Steve was right there. Steve hadn’t even made any sort of move to make it clear that you were actually on a date anyway. Eddie had expected some sort of reaction from Steve from the banter that bounced between the two of you, but he’d only sat back and watched. 

You were far too good for Harrington anyway. 

But he could have figured that out the second time the two of you had met so many years ago. You didn’t remember Eddie, and he didn’t blame you too much for that. You had been in a rough state that time, shaken up and worried out of your mind. Hell, Eddie himself could barely remember the first meeting it had been so long ago. 

He couldn’t help himself though, not when you showed an interest in his band, his club, and (he was starting to hope) him. The back and forth between the two of you had excited him. He swore (lied) to himself that he was only flirting and chatting with you to annoy Harrington, and the last thing he had expected was for you to start flirting back. It was night and day compared to Sidequest Day. Eddie completely forgot about Steve the second you mentioned WASP as a favorite band. He probably could have stood there all night, asking you how you fell into the genre, what songs you add to your mix tapes, and bragging not-so-subtly about his band and guitar skills. 

But reality always shows up, and Eddie was needed to fix the amp again. It was old and beat to hell and back, but it was all he could afford to fix. A new amp would always be out of the question unless the Hideout decided to start paying the high schoolers for their performance every week. 

He made his way to the van to grab his toolbox (Wayne’s toolbox, but he insisted that Eddie keep it in his van) when he realized that he was an idiot. Shit, he’d offered you a ride home, and he was really hoping you’d take him up on that offer, intoxicated or not. 

The back of the van was gutted, making it far easier to transport Gareth’s drum set, the amp, and all of their other equipment to their weekly gig. There was even room for two of his friends to (very illegally) sit back there while one person sat up front with him. 

Would you even want a ride home like that? Eddie had no problem forcing everyone else to ride in the back while you rode shotgun. Then it was the long ride to Gareth’s place to drop everything off, then dropping off Jeff and Zack. 

He could drop you off first, but that would defeat the purpose of offering you a ride. 

Shit. 

Whatever, he’d wing it. He’d figure out the details later after the show. Right now he had to fix the amp again and focus on the music. 

There was a moment before every show, when the janky spotlights would turn on and temporarily blind Eddie, that transported him to another world. Any time he picked up his guitar, be it his electric one or the acoustic, he could feel a charge in the air. Music was as natural as breathing to him, something that just was. 

Someone once asked Eddie, why music? Why this music? 

Because it’s fucking badass. Because it’s an escape to a different world, a different dimension. 

When Eddie played, he didn’t have to be in Hawkins. He didn’t have to be a freak. When he felt the sharp strings press into his fingers he became a Rock God. His music made him feel badass, indestructible, a fucking hero in his mind. 

During a really good show, Eddie could lose himself completely. He could imagine that there was a large crowd cheating his name, his band. The sound of his guitar screeched like a demonic bat, and he could imagine that the audience was looking through a portal to another dimension, watching as Corroded Coffin used their music to kick ass and take names. 

Eddie never thought about what it would be like to look through the other side of the portal. To look back and see someone looking at him the way he imagined it. That was, until the first song started and his eyes met yours through the near empty bar. 

There was a smile on your face, and an intense look in your eyes as you watched him play. The excitement in your eyes couldn’t have been mistaken for anything else. It was the same look that Dustin had given Eddie the first time he made the kid a mix tape, it was the look that his bandmates had when they booked their first gig ever that wasn’t some talent show or open mic night. 

It was the look Eddie had when he held a guitar for the first time. 

Sure, Eddie had fans. At least 5 people would drunkenly cheer for him on Tuesdays. They were mostly older though, blue collar workers who were reliving their youth through Corroded Coffin. Occasionally he could even have a semi-coherent conversation with them about music after the set. Not often though. The sets usually ended with high fives from the band, maybe a pat on the back and a beer slipped over to Eddie. 

The way you were smiling up at him was different though. Even with the drink in your hand you were alert and paying attention to every song and every lyric. Eddie’s voice wasn’t the most well-trained but he let his guitar do most of the work. As they worked through their set, his eyes kept falling back to you. Of course it was easy, considering the fact that you were a cute girl sitting front and center, and most of his other ‘fans’ were by the actual bar on their fourth or fifth round for the night. 

Paige had once mentioned off-handedly that he had the look and the stage presence. She’d even said that he looked good once and that was a compliment that he had ridden the high of until everything came crashing down again. When that dream disappeared along with her, Eddie had gone back to just being the Freak of Hawkins. But, fuck, when you were looking at him like that he could almost believe it again.

When the echoes of the final chord faded into the air and the portal closed, Eddie was left smiling at the one person in the bar that bothered cheering like they meant it. You. 

He took his pick and tossed it to you, and you caught it between your hands like you had with the air hockey puck just a few days ago. Eddie felt a sense of pride as your cheeks darkened, and he hoped it was because of him and not the drink you had been nursing for the past hour. Your eyes darted between him and Steve- oh right. Harrington was here too. Right. 

Eddie turned away and started helping with packing up. The sooner they got the equipment to the van the more time they would have to hang out before curfews for everyone else hit.

During the summer they had gotten away with staying out a bit later, but it was now the school year. That meant they had about twenty minutes to mingle, pack, and head out. The last thing he needed was to piss off Gareth's parents (again) and lose their place to practice. 

Eddie was already on thin ice with the parents of his bandmates and club members, except for Zack’s. He wasn’t gonna push it. 

With everything tucked securely back in his van, Eddie made his way back inside to find you.One of his regulars gave him a clap on the back for a good show and handed him a beer which he gladly accepted. He should back off, stay away when every time he’s seen you in recent memory was with Steve Harrington. But when he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the table still fiddling with the pick between your fingers and finishing off your drink he couldn’t stay away. Steve was nowhere to be found. 

“So, did you enjoy the show?” Eddie asked, taking a seat next to you. You had been lost in thought and jumped slightly. When you realized he was there, you smiled at Eddie as if he was the one person you wanted to see in all of Hawkins. 

“Holy shit, you guys are good!” You said brightly. There was the tiniest slur to your words, made noticeable by how fast you were talking. “Your amp makes a weird sound with your guitar but I don’t think that’s a bad thing and you were going so fast! How’d you get your fingers to do that?!”

Eddie laughed and had you been in a more sober state of mind he might have made some sort of dirty joke about that. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid, and I practice so much it’s second nature to me.” 

You glanced at his calloused fingers and nodded, before looking back at your own. “I don’t have the finger dexterity for that.” you said, moving your fingers around. “See? My pinkie is kind of fucked up.” You gave your fingers a wiggle and your pinkie definitely moved in a more jerky fashion than the rest of your finders. 

“It’s because you don’t use it enough.” Eddie said, grabbing your pinkie and shaking your hand around, making you laugh. “Just start playing guitar for about four hours a day until your fingers bleed and I’m sure you could fix it.”

“That sounds like a lot of work that I don’t have the passion for, so I think I’ll leave all the fingering to you-” You closed your eyes and took a very deep breath as your brain caught up to your mouth. Eddie watched in amusement as you slumped your head to the table. “Can I get a do over?” 

Despite the embarrassment you were laughing, which Eddie took as a good sign. His next move was risky, but he was going to go for it. 

“If you had a g string I could show you how to finger it.” 

“Nooooo!” you groaned through your laughter as you sat back up. “Low hanging fruit, Eddie! That was too easy!” 

“You handed that one to me on a silver platter! I don’t think I’d be allowed to play guitar anymore if I didn’t go for that joke!” Eddie said in mock offense. 

“Eddie, did you know that when you order one drink here, they actually give you three drinks in one glass?” you asked, motioning to your empty cup. “Because I did not.”

He looked over at the bar, and then back to you. “Sam’s working. Yeah, he’s pretty heavy handed with his drinks. Are you good?” 

You gave a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, I can’t drive probably but I’m not blackout wasted or anything.” There was still a slur to your words, but your eyes were still alert enough that he felt confident that you weren’t going to make any decisions that weren’t completely your own.

“So how come I’m the one who offered you a ride home and not your date?” Eddie didn’t want to bring up Harrington, but curiosity always got the better of him in one way or another. 

“Date?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before realization dawned on your face. You looked at Eddie with such intensity that it made him feel nervous for a second. “I am not dating Steve Harrington.” There was firmness in your voice. “He’s dating every other girl in Hawkins.”

“Do you... want him to be dating you?” Eddie wasn’t sure where you were going with this and he took a sip of the beer that he’d been neglecting for the past few minutes. . 

“Ew.” 

That one word had him nearly choking on his beer as it went down the wrong pipe. He made a strained sound between a cough and a laugh and you smacked him on the back a few times with concern before he waved your hand off.

“‘Ew’?” He managed to finally choke out, looking at you in disbelief. “So you’re telling me that you and Steve Harrington just happen to hang out but you aren’t dating?” 

This had to be a joke, some sort of prank where Harrington would pop out of the bathroom, throw his arm around you, and laugh at Eddie for believing for even a second that someone as cool as you was single. 

“We’re just friends and we have a kind of deal going on.” you said, messing with the ice in your empty glass. “I help him and he uh...” Eddie watched as you hesitated and your mind looked for the words. “He helps me get out of the house.”

“I thought you said coming out was your idea?” Eddie tilted his head, watching as your expression changed to one of a kid who’s hand was caught in the cookie jar. 

“I lied.” You said bluntly. “I had no idea about you playing or that you had a band or even that the Hideout had any live music ever. It was Steve’s idea.”

Eddie watched your expression carefully for any sign that you didn’t actually have feelings for Steve. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, knew better than to get his hopes up. The Munson’s weren’t exactly known for being lucky in love, and he was no different. Eddie could count on one hand the amount of times he’d had any sort of romantic connection to a girl and most of those had crumbled to dust in his hands. 

“Harrington brought you here?” He said slowly. “To get you out of the house?”

“I pretty much live at work and home.” you shrugged, sucking the last bit of moisture that had melted in the bottom of your glass. “He’s a good friend. And that’s all he is.” 

Even Eddie wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the blatant flag that you were waving over your head. 

SMACK

Two drumsticks came crashing down on the table between the two of you. Eddie didn’t even realize how close you two were getting until Gareth managed to squeeze himself between the two of you, banging his sticks rhythmically on the table. 

“Eddie we gotta go.” Gareth said. “Mom’s gonna kill me if I’m late tonight. Grandma’s visiting.”

“Shit.” Eddie muttered to himself and then looked at you. “Do you still need a ride?” 

He hoped you’d say yes. He hoped you didn’t mind his band while they all drove home so illegally. 

“I think I can’t say no.” You glanced at the drink. “Because that was waaay stronger than I expected it to be and I can alway bully Steve into helping me get my car in the morning.”

“Why was Harrington even here?” Gareth asked, looking at you with confusion. He glanced at Eddie in a questioning manner and a sharp look from Eddie shut him right up. 

“He’s my friend. He left. Said he wasn’t feeling well.” You replied nonchalantly. 

Harrington just left you drunk at a bar?! Eddie looked at you with wide eyes and his mouth hung open. What kind of bullshit friend was that? Henderson had spent so long talking up Steve Harrington, and how he was a total badass and not a dick and he left a friend drunk at a bar? He had been willing to play nice for Dustin, but any chance of that was thrown out the window. 

Eddie stood up, the chair scraping behind him as he tried (badly) to hide his frustration. “We’re giving her a ride home. She gets shotgun.” 

“What?!” Gareth protested, looking at you like you’d personally offended him. “If my parents see me get out of the back-”

“They won’t unless you plan on telling them to wait up for you.” Eddie said firmly. “She’s shotgun.”

There was a look of guilt on your face as you sat there awkwardly. “Mom, Dad, I can sit in the back or I can just stick around her for another hour with some water and I’ll sober up.” 

Eddie grabbed you by the scruff of your jacket and hauled you up quickly. “Nope, you’ve already had one person ditch you tonight. I’m not leaving you drunk in a bar alone.”

He winced internally at how roughly he’d just handled you. Eddie was so used to handling and rough housing with his club that he forgot that he shouldn’t be doing that with other people. But it was so easy with you. The few conversations you’ve had made him feel like you should have been part of Hellfire to begin with. If he ever saw Chris Morrison again, he’d deck him in his smug little nose. 

There was no time for protesting from either you or Eddie as he pushed the two of you out the door and towards his van. It was chilly out, the autumn air biting his skin as he pushed Gareth towards the back of the van. He released your jacket and stepped to open the door of the van for you. 

“After you-” He did his best to give what he hoped was a charming smile as you hopped into the van. He heard Zack mutter something in the back of his van followed by a round of snickering between his bandmates before he closed the door and hopped into the driver side seat. 

Metal came blasting out of the speakers and he fumbled to turn it down so that it didn’t blow your eardrums. 

“Wait no, turn that back up!” you said, reaching for the knob to elevate the voice of Ozzy Ozbourn as it thrummed through the van. 

“So uh, this is my new friend.” Eddie said, hating how that sounded as he tried to break the ice. 

You turned around in your seat immediately and stuck your hand in the back, introducing your name. Eddie was amazed as you wasted no time launching into how great the set was and asking a million questions as to who they were, how they started playing music. 

You weren’t shy, that was for sure. Actually the buzz you had going on made you even more interested in talking to everyone. Soon there was a lively conversation happening, enthusiastically about the tape that was playing. 

“My mom hates Ozzie.” Jeff said. “Says that he’s an animal abuser because he bit the head off that bat.”

“Everyone wants to talk about that, but no one wants to talk about how that happened!” You threw in. 

“What do you mean?” shot back Gareth. “With his fucking teeth!” 

“That’s not what I meant, Dingus!” you snorted. “Where do you think the bat came from?” 

Eddie gave pause and slowed his driving down just a touch. He was already going slow to avoid any cops out, but you had asked a question that he’d never even considered. 

The question gave pause to everyone as they looked at each other with confused shrugs. 

“I thought he just pulled it out of his pants.” Said Zack 

“His pants?!” 

“Why would he keep a bat in his pants?!”

“To pull it out and bite the head off of it, duh!”

“Where else would he keep a bat?”

“I don’t know, a cage?!”

The conversation was delving into chaos and Eddie could see you grinning out of the corner of his eye as you watched them squabble amongst themselves. 

“Maybe it just flew in?” Eddie threw that out there, wishing that he didn’t have to be driving so that he could focus on the mischievous glint in your eyes. 

“It was a closed auditorium, actually.” You smiled at him. “I highly doubt that a bat is just gonna fly into a random building filled with screaming people.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just a random building. It’s a building where Black Sabbath was playing.” Eddie laughed, glancing between you and the road. “Maybe it was a metal fan.”

“Not anymore.” 

“Jesus, Zack” 

“Alright, I’ll bite-”

“The head off a bat?”

“No! Okay, so you clearly know what happened so just spit it out!”

“Like Ozzy did with the bat head?”

“ENOUGH!” Eddie yelled out, hitting the breaks just enough to make the van jerk and you all to have his attention. You laughed as he resumed normal driving, thankful that it was almost 10 pm on a Tuesday night and the roads were dead and empty. “Let her talk.”

The van went quiet after a few apologies and you reached over to turn down the radio. 

“Alright, so,” you started. “I’m just gonna start from the beginning and if you all hear me rant about this once, you’ll probably hear me rant about it a hundred times in the future because this is my go-to drunk rant.” 

You glance at Eddie, and he could see the excitement in your eyes that you got to talk about this with fresh people who would actually appreciate it. 

“So we’ve established that this was a closed auditorium that he was playing in, and this wasn’t planned at all.” you continued. “So the question everyone needs to ask is where the fuck this bat came from. Everyone always talks about it like he reached up and grabbed a random bat out of the air and ate it whole but that’s not what happened. What happened is that a fan threw the bat on stage- mind you, he has no reason to believe that it’s a real bat. He thinks it’s a rubber bat! Who in their right mind would think that someone would throw a real bat on stage?”

“Isn’t Ozzy on every drug ever?” Jeff asked from the back. 

You turned around in your seat to look at him, your finger extended. “You... are absolutely correct and make a very valid point. That aside though, let’s think about this. What kind of person managed to get a live bat, sneak it into a concert, and get close enough to the stage to throw it at Ozzy?”

They were pulling up into Gareth’s neighborhood now, and Eddie drove under the speed limit, stopping fully at every stop sign just to prolong this time together. He was fully invested in the excitement and passion in your voice as you told this story. 

“Who was it?” Eddie asked. 

“Get this- a seventeen year old high school girl.” You said. “A fucking junior in high school, managed to get a live bat, sneak it in, and throw it at Ozzy! That’s insane, right?!”

“What?!”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I have absolutely no clue!” you laughed. “The two interviews I read about it didn’t talk about who she was or anything. They just talked about how Ozzy saw the bat and didn’t realize it was alive until he took a bite! It’s actually kind of fucked up, and Ozzy did not deserve that but holy shit right?”

Eddie pulled into Gareth’s parent’s driveway, and everyone in the back went into band mode as Gareth immediately hopped out of the back and hoped that his parents weren’t watching. You moved back in your set and glanced at Eddie who had to pretend he wasn’t staring a hole into the side of your head. 

“Need any help?” you offered. 

He shook his head, “Just hang tight while we unpack. It’ll only take a second.” 

The boys made quick work of unpacking the drum set and rearranging the back so that the remaining two club members could more comfortably fit for the final leg home. Thankfully Jeff and Zack didn’t live too far from each other. You stayed in the van, zoning out pleasantly to the end of the tape. 

In the garage, Eddie was getting roasted. 

“So now you’re taking home girls after shows, Eddie?” Jeff asked with a shit-eating grin. 

“Next time warn us so we can get a different ride.” grumbled Gareth. 

“She seems nice.” Zack added. 

“Look, it was a last minute thing and she was left alone and drunk in a bar.” Eddie tried to explain as they put up the drum kit. 

“So the only girl you can get is a drunk girl?” ribbed Jeff. 

“A drunk girl who was ditched by a jock- ow!” Gareth rubbed his arm where Eddie had socked him. 

“I told you, it was a last minute thing.” Eddie said more firmly, narrowing his eyes at Gareth. “I’m just making sure she gets home safe.” 

“Wasn’t she also at the arcade last Saturday?” Jeff asked. “Weird how she keeps showing up.”

“If it means we get someone else watching our band, who cares? She liked the set and we need the support.” Zack added. “Night Gareth”

“Night.” Gareth said before closing the garage door. 

They all made their way back into the van, just in time for the cassette to be spat back out for you to flip it over and push play again. The drive to drop off the remaining two members was quieter, as the school day plus the set caught up to them. Eddie was still wired, and he was looking forward to having a joint when he got home to calm himself after everything that had happened tonight. 

When the van was just the two of you, and you gave him directions to your small apartment, there was a comfortable silence between you. Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye at a red light, taking in the way your eyes were closed and your lips were upturned as you soundlessly mouthed the words to the song playing. 

“So, where’d you get your tattoos?” you asked after a few minutes. 

Eddie grinned. “Why? Are you looking to get some ink done?”

“Well, the last time I checked tattooing was illegal in Indiana.” you replied, glancing at the colony of bats flying up his arm. “So have you ever left the state or should I be concerned about whatever shady basement you visit to get those?”

He scrunched his face and blew a raspberry. “Don’t worry about the legalities, are you gonna tell Hopper on me?”

“Scratcher tattoos?” you frowned. “You are so lucky that those didn’t get infected.”

“She did it as a favor for me, she wasn’t some sketchy dude I met in a bar.” Eddie said defensively. “Her name’s Tara, she moved her from California where tattooing is legal, and she’s still technically licensed.” 

“Just not for Indiana.” 

“Not even a little.” he laughed. “But I helped her and she repaid me with these sweet ol’ tatties.”

You snorted into your hand at his verbiage. “How many you got?”

“Three on my arm and two on my chest. I got my first about three months after I turned eighteen when Tara moved in.” He explained. 

“Damn, and here I am looking at leaving the state to get something done legally like some sort of square.” You laughed. 

“So you are looking for some!” Eddie pulled into the parking lot you pointed to, right outside your building. 

“What can I say, I’m a rebel at heart. I shouldn’t be telling you this but I did jaywalk last week.” You smiled up at him, not bothering to move yet from the passenger side seat. 

“Jaywalking? Shit, and here I thought you were a quiet goody two shoes.” He shook his head. “I think you’re gonna be a terrible influence on me.”

“The worst.” you agreed. 

There was a silence that seemed to crackle with the old stereo. Eddie’s eyes met yours and he felt something that he hadn’t felt in almost two years. 

Oh.

Oh shit.

Flashes of his first senior year raced through his mind as he felt something begin again. He would have hoped that when he felt that jolt in his stomach again he’d be alright. Eddie looked at you, his mind racing a million miles per hour over what to do now. 

He had to get out of there. 

You were reaching out for him, shit- he wasn’t ready. Your hand was reaching across for his and gripped it, pulling it towards you. You were making a move and-

Pop

The sound of a maker’s cap reached his ears. Eddie felt the tip of the felt glide over the skin of his forearm, the temporary ink sinking into his skin and spelling out your name and phone number. 

Jesus Christ. What the fuck was that about?

“We should hang out again, on purpose.” you said, putting the marker back in your bag. 

Eddie’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded. Fuck, he needed a joint now. “Fifth time’s a charm.” he said. 

Without another word you gave him a wave and hopped out of the car, towards your unit. He watched to make sure you made it inside before smacking his head against the steering wheel as the night replayed in his mind. 

Sweet ol’ tatties?

Freaking out when he thought you might kiss him?

He knew that everything that happened two years ago would have an effect on him. Anyone who was close to Eddie knew the toll it took on him. He’d always been cynical, but ‘84 changed something deeper. 

Eddie didn’t want that to affect you. 

But he looked at the dried dark green ink on his arm with a sigh. “Dammit.” he muttered to himself before pulling out. 

He shouldn’t drag you into his problems. He should turn around and leave it at that- just four meetings between the two of you. Four odd, awkward, and admittedly nice meetings. 

The fifth meeting was inevitable. 

---

“So, I think you need to leave, Steve.” you said as you watched Corroded Coffin pack up their instruments. 

“Wait, what?” he looked at you with wide eyes, glancing down at the guitar pick that you were fiddling with between your thumb and forefinger. The smooth plastic and the slightly sharper edge had a nice contrasting feeling as you played with it. 

“Steve, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I do. But I think if you stick around I’m gonna lose this chance.” 

“You’re really gonna go for it? For him?”

“Yeah, I think I am.” You watched the man on stage and gulped down the last of your drink. It was a bit stronger than expected and you had a nice buzz happening, but nothing alarming. You could easily hang out for another hour with some water and some pretzels and be perfectly fine to drive home if needed. But playing it up just a little wouldn’t hurt, would it? It had definitely loosened you up and relaxed you enough that you were starting to feel excited about talking to Eddie again. 

“How sober are you?” Steve glanced at the drink and back at you. “I need to know that you’re of sound mind and body before I leave you alone with some guy we barely know.”

“Awww, look at you caring about me.” you teased and pinched his cheek as he swatted your hand away. “If Dustin vouches for him, I’ll trust the kid’s judgment. And I’m fine, the worst I’ll do is run my mouth worse than normal and rant about things you won’t understand.”

“How’s that different from normal?”

“Ha ha. Okay, seriously. I love you, but you’re cockblocking me.” 

“Okay, okay I’m going, sheesh.” he stood up. “This is the thanks I get for introducing you to a guy.”

“Did you, or did you not get laid at least four times since we started this?” 

“Don’t forget to use protection.”

“Thanks Mom.” 

---

You liked Eddie’s friends, you decided. They were just as weird and loud and rowdy as you expected a bunch of high school boys to be. Gareth kept challenging you every few sentences, but the conversation didn’t feel as awkward as you were worried it’d be after being manhandled to Eddie’s van. Maybe even if this didn’t work out, you could at least be friends with them. 

And when the band was dropped off, it was just you and Eddie in his van. Talking to him was easy, almost as easy as it was to talk to Steve. You never had anything to prove to the jock, and you wished that you could feel the same about Eddie. You wanted him to like you, you wanted him to like you so much. 

Eddie parked and there was a charge in the air that made your stomach flutter. For the past two months you’d actually avoided moving ahead with Steve’s end of the bargain. As much as you wanted companionship, putting yourself out there was scary. But when you were next to Eddie, making small talk, awkwardly flirting, and screaming about music it wasn’t as scary. 

You wanted to move forward. 

You wanted to know him, and get out of this damn rut of home and work and little else. You were tired of hearing about everyone else living while you just coasted. 

So you decided to go for it. You wished you had grabbed a napkin from the bar, but all you had in your bag was an old green sharpie that you were praying still worked. You reached for his arm and you jotted down your name and phone number, putting the ball firmly in his court. You’d made your move, and now it was his turn. 

“We should hang out. On purpose.” you said, releasing him. 

“Fifth time’s a charm.” Eddie said. 

You gave a wave and made your way back to your small one bedroom apartment. As you dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, that’s when you realized something. 

Today. Saturday. That was-

You looked down at your hand and put down two fingers. 

“What did he mean, five?!”

--

A/n: Drop a comment of what you'd want to see Reader get as a tattoo and I might add it later. See you all on the other side of Flight of Icarus.

Part 6

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1083 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @mistook @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119

Please reblog 💜

#nacht fic #wing man #eddie munson x reader

[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 5)

5. I've found heaven in hell

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: alcohol, angst, arguing, tension, tarot readings

Word count: 7,9 k

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I genuinely hope this chapter is as good as I wanted it to be, but I'm not so sure about it. I tried my best, but I'm certainly proud of the last scene of this chapter. Yes, we finally got to Baratie and Zoro's fight with Mihawk. I'd be very happy to hear your opinions, so let me know what you think <33 Not proofread yet.

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

One card fell from her tarot deck from the moment when she started shuffling it: Death.

Nope, she immediately thought to herself. 

The witch let out a theatrical sigh and let the cards back in their place, half of her mind completely ignoring the meaning. 

No way I'm occupying my mind with such trouble now of all times. I couldn't even sleep last night. 

She could think about that later, after she gets a few hours of peace. They were lucky enough to escape from the Marines just a while ago. The answer she received after she came back to her room at the first hours in the morning — when she had just finished her night shift — was ambiguous enough. All she wanted was to breathe some fresh air. 

The witch got up from the bed and was ready to leave the girls' room while pulling a large shirt over the tight tank top hugging her curves, leaving it unbuttoned. The hot weather made her choose some shorts in favor of the usually large pants she preferred. The low heels of her boots created a strong sound with each step on the Going Merry's floor. 

"I still can't believe Luffy was the one to get us at this floating restaurant in the middle of the sea using his nose only," she chuckled at the navigator. 

Nami was glancing one last time into a small rounded mirror she held between her fingers before closing it and shoving it into a bag. 

"Add food to the equation and he could take over my role."

"Well, well, that's quite exaggerated. He might have an affinity for sniffling foods, but you can feel a thunderstorm. That's a big difference," the witch winked. 

"You're flattering me," Nami grinned. 

The witch opened the door of their room and they were instantly greeted with the rays of the sun. She squinted her eyes and walked on the deck with two knives and a gun sitting at her hips. Luffy was already on the dock of the restaurant created in the form of fish with an open mouth. Baratie was written in red neon lights on top of the suspended balcony of the restaurant. 

"Do you think there are marines here?" Usopp asked as he leaned against the railing of The Going Merry. 

"There are skulls on the flags of other ships. If marines are here, they're probably not for business. I wouldn't start yelling about it in the middle of a place filled with pirates," the witch commented. 

Any other words died on top of her tongue when her eyes fell on the swordsman who just left the galley. Maybe the witch should've been more careful while staring so insistently, but gosh, wasn't he always a sight? The dark bluet-shirt clinging onto his chest for dear life, accentuating the muscle lines and — god fucking dammit — the jeans squeezing his legs made her gulp. The signature swords were secured against his left hip. 

She averted her eyes before she could get caught ogling at the crewmate she grew fond of. It was a pleasure to blame it on the doses of alcohol in her veins, but it wasn't the case that time. She was wide awake and sober, so the nature of her thoughts was worrisome, to say the least. 

She was still dealing with the possibility of feelings. A concerning topic for an inexperienced person in the domain of romance. 

Another trouble she didn't want to think of. Maybe Zoro isn't that wrong for drinking with every occasion he gets. 

What made it worse was the lack of attention he gave her, as if she was just a ghost. 

Maybe she was overthinking it. 

Truth be told, she wasn't exactly wrong. Zoro did intentionally look away so he could save himself from embarrassment. He turned away before he swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers curling tighter around the hilt of his sword. He must've gotten insane to start avoiding people. 

"Let's go! I feel like I could die from hunger," Luffy jumped from the ship straight on the dock. 

The witch found the right thing to focus on: the restaurant looked amazing. Not only did it smell so divine her stomach learnt how to talk, but it was also splendid. For a second, the witch wondered if that was a place for pirates and not for some rich business people — they could certainly be found there. Dozens of tables and the constant chattering of people, waiters and waitresses walking around and rushing from one side to the other — it was so lively. 

The fishman greeting the people coming in smiled warmly at them, even if a little strained — a habit he got from his job. 

"You mean there's no free table for our captain, the soon to become King of the Pirates?" Usopp smiled proudly, pointing at Luffy. 

She found it hard not to laugh or chuckle at the interaction between Luffy and the poor fishman who said twice already that there will be an available table in three weeks. When the witch saw Nami shove her hand in her pockets, it was obvious what tactic she'd use. Obviously, it worked, even if Luffy and Usopp were cheering, walking down the stairs ahead of them. 

The witch looked around, wary of any possible threats or drunk people who would get mad about the smallest thing, like the way they looked. Everyone seemed so caught up in their own thing and it eased her mind, some anxiety leaving once her shoulders fell. 

However, there were certain gazes following her silhouette. It was probably because of each confident step she made, the elegance she carried, the force she proved to have with every sharp glance she threw around. Her fingers twitched to grab a hold of her dagger. She figured out there were no imminent threats yet. 

At the table, she found herself between Zoro and Nami. She was conscious the moment she intentionally sat a tad bit closer to the swordsman who comfortably spread his legs after he tried to fit his swords. Sometimes, when she'd shift in her seat, his knee would brush by hers and goosebumps would erupt on her skin. She allowed herself to enjoy the proximity, the way her gaze would linger on his figure when he talked, the low timbre of his voice soothing her soul. 

She had to get used to that idea. 

It ached. Her heart would thump painfully in between her ribs each time it felt like he was ignoring her. He didn't say much to her since morning and something inside of her was bleeding, despite the lack of crimson liquid tainting her clothes. 

The witch hated him for every cold glance thrown her away or, worse, each time he didn't even look at her when she spoke. To protect herself, her lips got sealed for a long while. 

Her attention was piqued by the fight between two marines who seemed unable to swallow up their pride, threatening each other with death, while a beautiful lady sat at the table, looking at them with fear visible on her expression. 

The roll of her eyes and the exasperated exhale she let out spoke for her as the witch rested her elbows on the table and held her face with a hand. 

"Do people always act like that over stupid things?" Usopp frowned. 

"They act worse," the witch scoffed, amused. "The average pirates aren't any better either, you know."

"Bold of you to say that when you're a pirate yourself," Nami shook her head. 

"I've never claimed I'm a lady, so," she shrugged. 

A waiter with blonde hair dressed in a clean black suit appeared by the men's table. There was a specific customer-friendly smile plastered on his face while he tried to calm the waters. 

One of the two men pulled his pistol out just to have his arm being hit by the waiter's feet. In a few seconds only, the other man received the same treatment, getting a strong blow right in the stomach. The blonde waiter rolled on his feet and right after his feet collided with the man's face, he prompted his hands on the table to pin the other pink-haired marine to the floor with a kick in the crown of his head. 

"Good fighter," Luffy pointed out with excitement bouncing in his tone. 

As if nothing ever happened, the man's fingers grabbed at the plate he abandoned on the table and smiled again. 

"No cause for alarm, folks. Please enjoy your meals." 

A normal occurrence, most probably. 

The waiter came to their table with a few long steps. From up close, his handsome features washed away the obvious forced smile plastered on his thin lips. 

"Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambiance is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" 

His voice was tinted with harshness and he was definitely in a bad mood, visible despite the professionalism he tried to stick to. 

Luffy grabbed one of the small loaves of breasla on the plate the waiter just placed down in front of them. 

"One of everything, please," their captain spoke with his mouth stuffed. 

"What's wrong with the ambiance?" the witch asked, confused. "Not to flatter, but this place is splendid." 

Something in that man's head misunderstood it as you're splendid, apparently, since his eyes shone like crystals when they settled on the witch's figure. 

Maybe her mouth spoke before she had time to think it over. Bad decision. 

"It became splendid the moment you walked in, perhaps," he smiled effortlessly, his voice dropping an octave. 

Wait… what?

"Thank you?" she blinked owlishly. 

It sounded more like a question. Not the first compliment she received and she also had to admit that most of the men who flirted with her were absolutely gross. This one was decent, even polite — hell, someone could've taken courtesy lessons from him. 

The energy shifted. Or, better said, the man next to her shifted. Zoro just crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Sanji with a glare meant to send daggers through his face. The waiter didn't even bother to look at Zoro. 

"Is there anything I could bring for these two beautiful ladies?" his smile widened visibly once he spotted Nami right next to the witch. "Would you care for an apéritif to start? Or perhaps some drinks, like one of our signature cocktails? Maybe a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet for someone sweet."

His wink was flawless and it would've been perfect if not for Nami's retort. 

"Something wrong with your eye?"

Nami was frowning, taken aback by the comment and equally amused. 

"Very good question," the witch nodded. 

Nami tried her best to stifle a laugh when she realized she was backed up. Usopp was hardly holding back his laughter

"Forgive a man for being blinded by such beautiful ladies," he grinned as if he'd fallen in love not once, but twice in the same minute. "So?"

"Water, please," Nami answered. 

"Still, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?" 

"Regular water in a regular glass. Thanks." 

"A beer for me."

Zoro's voice was threatening and low, sharp gaze still focused on Sanji. 

"A beer for me. I usually have two, but…" Usopp didn't have enough time to continue as he's been interrupted by Luffy. 

"A glass of milk for milk for me!" the straw hat said with his mouth still stuffed with bread. 

Sanji's head turned towards the witch with a smile curling his lips. 

"One of the special cocktails you mentioned, please."

The witch didn't intentionally use that kind voice. It was a habit whenever she talked to strangers to soften her tone and smile out of courtesy and politeness. Probably, her kind gesture has been misunderstood as flirtatious. 

"Any preferences? We have plenty of options you can choose from." 

His smile already reached his ears and she could feel a specific swordsman straightening his back by her side. 

"Nothing too strong, if you may." 

"Of course." 

"Are you done yet?" 

Zoro made all of them turn their attention to him and while usually he wouldn't like it, at that time he couldn't give a single fuck about it. All he did was arch his eyebrow at the waiter and telling him to fuck off as politely as he could, with no cuss words falling from his mouth yet. If Sanji continued to gravitate around their table with that flirtatious smile on his lips, the swordsman might burst a vein on his forehead sooner rather than later. 

Sanji wasn't exactly satisfied to be rushed, but he turned on his heels and left. The witch was still looking at Zoro from the corner of her eye, trying her best to understand what just happened. 

He seemed fine minutes ago. Not too talkative, definitely, but not… so mad either. What has been with that scowl on his face ever since Sanji appeared? He couldn't be enough of a man child to be jealous of someone's flirting—

I'm getting delusional lately, the witch cut off her own thought process. 

"Mad about something, Zoro?" Nami smirked devilishly. 

"Everything's fine." 

Everything was, in fact, not fine. 

The witch was engulfed by her thoughts, fingers pressing and rolling the fork between her fingers after their food was served. She had to admit she was hungry and was trying her best to savor the pieces of meat tickling her taste buds, but it was almost impossible to ignore the shallow sensation in her stomach. 

"Was there anything wrong with your tarot?" 

Nami, who was by her side, turned her head and offered the witch her entire attention. Maybe she's been playing with her food for long enough to get their attention. 

"Not wrong, just something I would've rather not know," she said after swallowing. 

"What did you see?" 

She shook her head softly with a light chuckle leaving her lips. 

"I pulled the Death card." Quickly enough, she realized she shouldn't have started with that. 

"Who's dying?!" Usopp almost choked on his food. 

"It's metaphorical death," she clarified. "The ending of a cycle and a new beginning, whatever that might mean this time," with a shrug, she proved her own uncertainty. 

"Doesn't sound that bad," Zoro commented while he curled his fingers around his glass of beer. 

The young woman still remembered each element of the first tarot card she saw before they left The Going Merry. The skeleton dressed in silver armor on the white horse, holding a flag with the number 'XIII' and the people kneeling in front of it, their clothes painted in golden, blue and white. 

"It usually implies a hard step to take in order to advance. Change doesn't come unless you allow it and transformation is supposed to help you evolve, not regress. Each time, it doesn't come easily and it shakes up your reality first. Simply put, who the heck knows what might happen in the next few days," she clicked her tongue. "Anything is possible."

"What use do those readings have if you can't even find out what's really going on?" Nami arched her eyebrow. 

Fate spoke for itself. 

The witch's eyes fixed on hers, regret hanging around her heart. 

"They give enough clues, I just have to figure them out."

She felt bad for keeping to herself the other two cards she pulled: the ten of swords and the four of pentacles — betrayal reasoned by protecting yourself. The witch knew who this was about and she didn't mutter a word about it, finding it improper to do so. 

"And did you?" 

"Not entirely yet," she bit at her bottom lip. 

She knew her words were probably just passing by the ears of her friends. The witch was well aware they had no reason to believe in such things or listen to her. They could take her words into account or completely ignore them; it didn't really matter, as for her the reality remained the same. 

What mattered was that she knew only half of the upcoming events. The other side was hidden somewhere in shadows and life lessons the cards decided she had to learn on her own. 

"I won't need food for a year," Nami commented after she leaned back against the cushions, sighing. 

"We should do a toast. Come on, grab your glasses." 

The witch's fingers curled around her glass of cocktail with a soft smile. 

"To the best crew sailing on the sea and to our victory!" 

"No, I'm sorry," Nami furrowed her eyebrows. "What victory exactly?"

The witch didn't even get to bring the glass to her lips, Nami's question sinking deeply into her bones. 

"I don't know how many naval battles you guys have been part of…" 

"Two dozen, at least," Usopp interrupted her before taking one more sip from his beer. 

"Plenty," the witch placed her untouched glass back on the table. "It was a disaster, I'm well aware of it. We could've died before reaching a day of sailing with The Going Merry." 

"Then I suppose you agree we were unprepared and uncoordinated," Nami turned towards her. 

There's never been such tension lingering around the navigator since the witch got to know her. The orange haired woman was easy going and talkative, she was skilled and was so strong. Someone used to the harsh world they lived in and yet she seemed absolutely stupefied by the mention of said victory. 

Nami was tense and uncomfortable as she continued to shift in her seat, surprised wide eyes glaring at Luffy. 

"You didn't think to mention your grandfather was a Marine? And not just any marine, a vice-admiral! I don't know about you, but I didn't sign up for that." 

"You raided a marine base," Zoro spoke calmly. "Of course that'll make you a target." 

The witch only let out a soft sigh and straightened her back with a frown. She was equally worried, but… 

"I understand where you're coming from, Nami, but it wouldn't have helped us with anything to know about Luffy's relatives or their status. We're already haunted for merely having a map in our possession."

At their table Sanji appeared again, with a gray plate with a paper in between his fingers this time.

"Your bill, sir."

Luffy pulled his lips together and glanced at Nami before taking the pen and scribbling something. 

"Thank you," he smiled up at the waiter. 

Sanji took the plate and almost instantly, a mischievous grin splayed on his face. 

"No, thank you," and with that, he walked away. 

Whatever that was supposed to mean. 

Luffy turned towards his friends once again, confident in his opinion. 

"I'm not saying it's good that the Marines are on our tail, but we showed them that they can't just roll over us. This crew, our crew, can handle anything." 

The witch gently smiled at him and leaned her elbows on the table again. 

"We could use your optimism, Luffy, but it's harder than that. At any given time from now on, the simple fact that we're after One Piece is enough of a reason for a Warlord to come after us because right now, we're an easy target. Not to mention the relationship between the Marines and the Warlords. Remember that these seven pirates aren't anyone's toys and if we ever encounter them, it will not always have something to do with the Navy."

"What makes you talk about the Warlords?" the navigator gulped. "They'd be an ever bigger pain in our asses. Average pirates are merciless already—"

Nami stopped herself from talking and looked away. An unusual reaction met with silence from the witch.

"Luffy isn't the only one with relatives—"

"Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?" a hoarse voice boomed. 

The witch could feel a headache appearing along with the old chef who was hobbling because of his wooden leg. She finally gulped the entire cocktail. 

Why was Luffy always getting into trouble? 

"I need a drink," Nami exhaustedly threw her head back. 

"I need dozens of drinks," the witch sighed heavily. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

Maybe it wasn't a camaraderie thing to do to their captain, but they were now occupying some seats on the terrace of the open fish mouth. The witch was in between Nami and Usopp on the large couch, with their backs facing the sea, meanwhile Zoro sat on a chair, at the other side of the table. 

The witch had a whiskey bottle from which she poured herself shots once in a few minutes. Usopp had three straws in his mouth and he drank a sweet cocktail from a bowl. Zoro warned him with a chuckle, but he didn't listen. 

Nami, on the other side, was silent as she stared into her empty glass for longer than expected. The witch found it worrisome — she was used to her own phases, but it hurt to watch her friend struggle with something she didn't entirely share. Nami's issue was known by them and yet there was something the witch just grasped onto, a tale told by her tarot. 

"The next drink is on me," the navigator got up from her seat. 

"Nami," the witch's fingers curled around her friend's. 

She squeezed Nami's hand gently and looked up at her with concern in her eyes. The witch rubbed her fingers over her knuckles in a silent plea, her eyebrows knitted together.

You're not alone, her touch said. It's alright. We can make it alright. 

Nami swallowed down hard and barely squeezed the hand who held her before slipping away from them. 

The witch poured herself a shot and gulped it down quickly. 

"Why are you in such a hurry as well?" 

Zoro's voice made her chest burn worse than the alcohol. 

"I'm not going anywhere. I'd just rather not talk," she mumbled as she rolled the small glass between her fingers. 

"You know something that I don't," he concluded quickly. 

Usopp, who sat like an obedient child and listened, blinked curiously. 

"I know a lot of things that you don't, Zoro," she responded with sorrow. 

Saying one single word about Nami while she was gone felt unfair. 

When the orange haired woman came back to them with a bottle in her hand, her conversation with Zoro somehow turned into a guessing game. Usopp, who obviously didn't take the swordsman's warning into account, went to the dance ring and moved like a sea slug — or that's what Zoro said. 

"Are you in?" Nami asked. 

"I'd rather not," the witch lowered her gaze. 

It was easy to admit she didn't want to share anything about herself. Still, she knew better than that; with some shots, her tongue would loosen up bit by bit. 

Her eyelashes fluttered lazily and her gaze fell on the glass she held. The corners of her mouth were slightly curled downwards and she seemed aware of the effect alcohol would have on her. She will succumb into sorrow or happiness, depending on which one clouded her mind first. The lack of answers coming from someone who adored to share experiences and explain was strange. 

Nami looked at her from the corner of her eye and accepted the situation as it was. She'll get the witch to talk one way or another. Something was fishy about her behavior — it was poking Nami's senses. 

The witch leaned against the cushions and turned her head towards the sea, pushing reality out of her awareness. Zoro's and Nami's conversation sounded muffled from her perspective, caging herself willingly in her head. 

Zoro was sitting right in front of her and the witch still thought of him. Her feelings were confusing and analyzing them was a full time job. Maybe it was time for her to accept her situation and deal with the heart aching for him. It was impossible not to think of him, especially when his deep voice sounded like a melody. 

She swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked away the overwhelming sensation settling in her chest. Maybe the present could give her peace. 

"You're unfair, Roronoa," she crooked a teasing grin and turned her head towards him. 

"How's that so?" 

His gaze burning holes into her shouldn't affect her as much as it did. Those black oceans shining shamelessly told her everything she had to know, it made hope bloom in the center of her soul. 

Maybe there was a chance. A tiny little chance hidden in his mesmerizing eyes. 

"She's telling you entire stories, but you don't even bother to elaborate."

He clenched his jaw and scoffed. 

"That's not part of the game," the side of his mouth curled upwards. 

"Now that I think about it, she's right," Nami smirked. 

"Just drink."

With that, they raised their glasses and both glanced at the unusually silent witch. 

"I didn't play the game," she excused herself. 

"That's why you have to drink. You listened and didn't share," Nami arched her eyebrow. "Are you also unfair, Witch?" 

It was Zoro the one who poured whiskey in her empty glass. 

"You two are so sneaky," the witch laughed softly and complied. 

The alcohol burnt her throat and it was the alcohol getting to her head that brought questionable curiosities in her head… How would his lips taste? Would he make her burn harder? A one single touch from him would both ruin and put her back together. 

Alright, I have to find something else to think of. 

Hastily, the witch who sat by Nami's side gulped down another shot of whiskey and got up from the cushions. An idea creeped in her mind when her attention fell on the group of four musicians whose music Usopp danced to. 

"Where are you heading to?"

"Killing some time," she winked at Nami. 

With light steps, she walked to the guitarist and asked for his instrument after he just finished playing. With a nod, he handed her the guitar and she grabbed a chair to sit on. Her legs crossed and she positioned the guitar in her lap easily, like second nature. Gentle fingers tapped the wooden object and her lips curled — it was perfect — before her grip on the neck of the guitar tightened. Her other hand was busy testing the chords, tingles running down her spine at the sensation. 

She hasn't felt that in too long. 

The alcohol was also a reason for her bold action, but the witch didn't care. The fingers of one hand pressed against the strings, while she played with the other hand, giving life to the guitar. Lively sounds rang through the air and the other musicians quickly picked up on the notes. A classic, an old shanty pirates would sing when drunk after victories, but it was more beautiful when she played it. Even her humming and the rare times when her lips would part to let sweet words fall from between them, it was alluring. 

Zoro's attention never left her figure. Her eyes sparkled with freedom and the smile on her face was that of an angel. She was life itself, stuck under soft skin and hidden in her heart. The dim lights of the terrace — the open fish mouth — bathed her in white and warm gold. Her happy face, the smile lines, the crinkles of her eyes, the jovial energy surrounding her; all of these things charmed him over and over again. The longer he looked at her, the worse it got, because he didn't have the courage within himself to avert his gaze from her. 

"You should just admit it," Nami said. 

He didn't look at her when he let out a low "Hm?" 

"Don't you think she's pretty?" 

His head snapped towards her. 

"What are you talking about?"

"Which one of us are you trying to fool, Zorol; me or yourself?"

Uncomfortably, the swordsman shifted in his seat, clenching his jaw. 

"I think you're confused," he responded  with fake confidence while he crossed his arms over his chest. 

"No, you are confused," Nami scoffed. "You were jealous back then, when Sanji flirted with her."

"You're quick to jump to conclusions."

"If Usopp would be here, he'd agree."

"Unfortunately, he's too drunk to even walk straight, so I suppose he isn't here to support your theory." 

"Speaking of him."

Nami just spotted Usopp who came back to their table with a man behind him. A strange man, judging by the hilt of the sword as tall as him — and he wasn't short by any means either. 

"Which one of you is Monkey D. Luffy?"

Zoro turned his head lazily, arching his eyebrow. 

"I don't recall such a name."

The witch's peace has been entirely destroyed by the new appearance, an unwelcome guest. She could spot him easily because of his big elegant hat with feathers and the sword with precious stones on the hilt. 

It was her turn to stand proudly in front of a Warlord she's only heard about from her deceased father. Her back was straight and her chin up high, gaze sharp. 

When the man turned his head to her, there was no mistake it was Dracule Mihawk, his golden irises shining with boredom. Even his perfect posture betrayed the obvious superiority he had in front of some mere children. 

"I didn't know your father had raised a liar. He was honest, from what I recall." 

The witch knew she was her father's splitting image, but how could he know— 

The only thing that stopped her eyes from widening in surprise were the nails digging painfully into her palms. 

"I don't know any Monkey D. Luffy and I certainly have no clue what you're talking about." 

"I have business with your captain. If you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over." 

"I don't know either," Nami responded from her seat. "Right, Zoro?"

"You're Dracule Mihawk."

The swordsman got up from his chair and for a moment, the witch wondered if he was insane or more delusional than her, because there's no other way he stood without a worry in the world in front of him. 

In front of someone who could slice entire ships into pieces. 

"Zoro?" the witch whispered, horrified. 

The man in question stepped by Mihawk and walked slowly, steadily, as if the Warlord was his prey. 

"It pains me to inform you that tomorrow… you're going to die."

Oh, Gods, please don't. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch was left speechless. She couldn't find strength in her legs and she had to sit on a chair when all of them gathered in the valley of their ship.

Zoro wasn't a sane man. He needed to be locked up or someone had to get that stick from up his ass before he had a chance to die out of stupidity. 

She shook her head countless times while Zoro and Nami argued, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips and squeezing her eyes shut. 

"Why do you even care?" the swordsman's cold tone rang in the air. 

"Because you're my friend, you idiot."

Nami sounded close to losing it all. 

The witch already lost it one hundred times. Her heart wasn't beating, her breath was shallow and she was pinching the bridge of her nose to hold back from saying or doing something rude, something she would later regret. The tension in the room weighed on her chest and she wished it was all just a nightmare. 

"You said you don't have any friends," Zoro responded sharply. 

The woman's eyes snapped open. He was more insane than she thought. She wanted to yell, but no raw sound filled with pain left her chapped lips. The witch could only remain rigid while Nami left the room with loud stomps. 

"You're insane, Zoro," she muttered between gritted teeth. 

The witch was tugging painfully at her own strands of her in order to stop the overwhelming feelings from spilling out of her like a tornado. Her shaking fingers curled into her hair and gripped, the burn on her scalp bringing her back to the cabin of their ship. 

"This is a suicide mission." 

"It's his dream," Luffy smiled, "we can't—"

"Zoro, you're gonna die!" she shouted out of the sudden after she snapped her head towards the swordsman. 

She sank her nails into her palms until the sting was painful enough to keep herself stable. It was not to her liking to be pessimistic, to admit that someone wasn't able to do something, but what he wanted to do was not the most intelligent idea. 

"This isn't good, this won't end well at all and you shall know it," the witch continued. "You can't seriously believe you'll get out of there better than half-alive."

The swordsman didn't need to respond in order to answer. His unmoving gaze and straightened back told enough: he wasn't going to change his mind at all, no matter what anyone said. 

She knew it meant a lot for him to become the strongest swordsman in the world, but in his current state he wasn't able to defeat Mihawk. Out of all the people he could've dwelt with, Zoro chose him, that monster of a man. 

"Did you not listen to me when I said 'He cuts entire ships with a mere flick of his wrist'?" she furrowed her eyebrows. "Did you suddenly forget when I clearly warned you all the warlords aren't some mere toys for the big guys in the system, they do whatever the fuck they want!" 

She cussed herself for letting out so many emotions, but she seriously couldn't hold back anymore, no matter how worried Usopp seemed, or how confused Luffy was. They had no clue what Zoro was getting into—

"That's exactly why I'm dwelling with him and not someone else," the green-haired man spoke firmly. 

"Oh, so your dream is to get cut in half by a sword taller than you?" her irritation slipped. 

"Do you really think I trained my entire life to get cut without putting up a fight?"

Even if she didn't want to admit it to herself, one side of his heart was hurt. This entire time, every time they spoke, she openly told him she believes in him, that she trusts him even if it would be her downfall. It sounded like she's been lying this entire time. 

"You know very well I never meant that you're weak, but you're not stronger than him! That's your idea of a swordsman? You can believe, you can even hope for the best to happen, but the happiest situation would be a quick death. And the worst? A torturous one." 

"I didn't take you for someone who wouldn't understand what the pride of dying in a duel means."

"Fucking hell!" 

The witch's tight fist hit the table placed in the middle of the cabin with a quick and hurried motion, her feelings indeed getting the best of her that time. It didn't come to mind the last time she ever acted so harshly. 

He turned her words against herself and he was a professional at doing so. She knew what kind of pride swordsmen and pirates carry, she knew what they considered noble because she's spent years of her life listening to men and women talking about such things. Her father did the same, thought he could get out of any problem, until it brought him his death. 

"Maybe you should have more faith," Usopp intervened in a small voice. 

He was hesitant, the surprise obvious on his face — none of them expected that their most collected crewmate would lash out like that. Luffy was also silent, confused, obviously trying to find a way to get into the thick heads of his friends somehow. The argument escalated quickly and the tension wiped away any ounce of peace. 

The witch's eyes were fixed on Zoro's and they burnt holes through his face. He's seen just as many emotions a night ago, when she told him about her past sailing experiences, about the life she left behind as she desperately tried to find freedom. And if freedom felt like that, he wondered if she really wanted it. He succumbed to the flames of hell in her eyes, but snapped himself out of it. 

She was angry at him, he figured out quickly. 

He didn't like that gaze. He'd do almost anything for her to stop looking at him that way, as if she wanted him away from her, as if his very presence brought her suffering. Almost anything. 

"You see just what you want to see, Zoro. You're deliberately ignoring our worries, thinking we have something against you, thinking god-knows-what about how we're not your friends or whatever the fuck's going through your head—"

I'm worried for you, she swallowed a lump in her throat. 

"Just because me and Nami are trying to stop you, it doesn't mean we're assholes keeping you away from your dream. We might be assholes, but we want you to be alive, not six feet under the ground!" her voice raised slightly at the end again, her breath shallow. 

"You're worried about her, not about me. I don't need your worry." 

"Zoro—" this time Luffy tried to intervene. 

"You're impossible," she faintly spoke, like a ghost. 

She gave up. 

She buried her face into her own palms and sat on a chair, her elbows prompted on her knees. She had so much faith in Zoro, she could barely even point out how many feelings swirl in her heart when it comes to him, but she was aware he was mortal. He could die at any given time. 

"Right, Zoro. Go die with pride filling you up the same way that man's sword will," she bitterly mumbled. 

I hate you, Roronoa Zoro. You and your stupid pride, along with the fucked way I feel about you. I hate it all. 

The poor woman was exhausted, her heartstrings twisting into knots, making it hard to ignore the pain running through her entire being. His name rolled on her tongue so many times in only a few minutes and it made her situation worse, that one word made of two syllables cutting through her chest. 

The witch regretted her words immediately, but didn't say anything for a while. 

Usopp nudged Luffy into leaving the other two alone and it was probably one of the few times when the straw hat understood subtleties without any questions. 

"Take your time and clean your swords, Zoro, we'll be waiting outside," Luffy spoke. 

The witch heard two pairs of steps that walked away, her face still buried in her palms. She gulped and took in a few deep breaths before she moved from her seat, straightening her back and moving to the window of the cabin, hands gripping at the edge of the wood. 

She didn't throw a glance at Zoro. Silence stretched between them while the witch focused on the stars shining in the night sky. 

I shouldn't have been here in the first place, she thought to herself, twisting the blade deeper into the wound. I shouldn't have accepted to come with you. I should've stayed in Syrup Village and left with another ship, to go somewhere far away from you. I should've known better that there's no way in hell I can grasp at the mere notion of freedom.

There's no place for me in heaven and there's no place for me in hell either. I'm stuck here, in this body, with these feelings and this swordsman in this galley. 

I should've known. I should've known I was damned to die on my feet, with a bleeding heart and my back turned at you. I should've—

She gulped down harshly, blinking away the tears. 

I want to stay with you all so badly. 

"Zoro," she whispered his name again. 

Tears stung in her eyes at the sound of his name. It felt like it was the last time she could hear his name repeatedly, the same name carved with silver on her heart. 

"Be careful," she continued, her voice faint. 

"Why do you care?" his bitter tone resounded in her eardrums. "Everyone seems deadly interested in my actions lately."

Only then she turned her head towards him and her ribcage protested when the prisoner that was her heart beat so harshly. 

"I don't need a reason. I simply do. Please, Zoro."

Like the idiot that she was, she begged him to stay alive. A confession was hidden between her chapped lips — she picked at them with her nails and there was blood surfacing on top of the skin. Her tongue swiped over her bottom lip, the metallic flavor tickling her taste buds. 

Judging on the way his jaw ticked with tension, he grasped onto enough of her words. Or maybe he refused to do so — who knows? 

"Don't throw your life away. You'll never fulfill your promise if you die today. Be mindful. Don't rush when fighting, don't get angry if he pushes on your buttons and irritates you. Be wise, Zoro."

It was a lost fight on her side. There was nothing she could do to stop him, so at least she had to give him the best advice she thought of. 

When he finally looked at her, her breath hitched. His brown eyes saw through her soul and she wondered if he could also feel how much she cared for him, the way she cared for him. She liked everyone on the ship equally, but her affection for him took a different path, one she's never walked on before. 

He didn't say a word, letting everything sink in. 

Maybe there is a chance he gets what I meant. 

"Be careful."

This time, her voice trembled but she didn't look away. She stood there, staring at him as if it was the last time she saw his eyes open. 

She turned towards the window again, nails digging into the wooden frame. She refused to look at him when she figured out tears could spill over her cheeks like a river if he continued staring at her, burying himself further into her soul. She only wanted him to be safe, because nothing was greater than that. If all of them could be kept away from harm's way, she would have days filled with peace.

Too bad such a thing was impossible in that unforgiving world. 

Behind her, Zoro moved around and left the galley. After a few minutes, he came back with a bottle of oil for his swords. He dragged a chair and sat down at the table, more silent than usually. With utmost care, he took one of his black swords and unsheathed it, leaving the scabbard on the table. He poured some oil on the blade and used a piece of cloth to spread it even from tip to hilt. 

The witch only dared to throw glances with an aching heart. She couldn't bring herself to leave, to stay away from him for too long now more than ever. She swallowed hard before making a tough decision. 

Wordlessly, she moved from the window. Her heavy steps echoed in the room until they stopped right by Zoro's side.

"Can I help?" 

Calm, just like she always tries to be, she spoke with fear clinging to every nerve in her body. She would blame herself for the rest of her life if they would part ways like that. More than her fears and worries, he mattered. He deserved all the pain she was capable of harboring inside her poor heart, he was worth the fight with her own self. 

The swordsman didn't expect her gesture. He supposed she would storm out of the room, that she would scold him or try to stop him, just like before. He guessed she was more sane than him, even if he couldn't bring himself to care enough about that. Her reaction pained him in ways he couldn't explain. 

His fingers pressed the piece of cloth against the blade of his words. He thought of being petty, shutting her down. Why couldn't she believe in him more? Was he that weak? 

He nodded. Like the stupid man that he was, with no need for spoken words, he accepted her help. He watched her blank face, devoid of any life, as she took another sword from the table, following his exact steps. 

Except, her hold on the white sword was gentle like a feather. A careful grip, so it wouldn't slip from her hand, but gentle nonetheless. He stopped whatever he was doing, focusing on the woman who rested her hips against the table, close to him, so close, but, oh, so far away. Zoro watched her unsheathe his Wado Ichimoji and place it on the table. Her hand reached out for the bottle of oil and her other one took advantage of the opportunity, taking the piece of cloth from his own hold. 

Their fingers touched. Hers were cold, but they still burnt his skin. Electric shocks traveled through his body and his chest tightened. 

She poured some oil on the material and then left the bottle on the table, gripping at the hilt of the sword again. She moved the piece of cloth over the blade carefully, as if she's done it before countless times. Left, right, left, right. Everytime she exhaled, her breath was trembling, despite the slow pace of her gestures. 

He paid more attention to the hands holding his sword: they were shaking when she placed the sword on the table. She poured some more oil on the cloth and dipped the tip of her index finger in the same spot. With the same finger, she drew on the blade a symbol Zoro didn't recognize.

With each stroke of her fingertip, she traced lines and connected them in a barely visible symbol: an arrow pointed upwards. 

"It's a rune meant for protection," she explained softly as she sheathed the sword. "It's associated with strength and honor. It doesn't matter if you don't believe in it, because I do and that's enough." 

It was true: he didn't believe in such things and never did. The swordsman never found it reasonable nor did he ever try to figure it out. It didn't mean he denied her beliefs — no, but he was indifferent towards it. 

However, he couldn't act indifferent towards the witch, which he found at that point to be straight up painful. It was painful to look at her and see torment in her deep eyes, it hurt to see sorrow painted on her angelic features when none of them was dead. 

The witch did the same gesture with the other two swords, carefully holding each one of them, as if they were her own treasures, not his. 

"Come back alive," she whispered. 

If he wouldn't have been so close to her, her voice would've sounded like a breath. 

"That's all I ask of you. If you wish so, then no sword will cut through you. Blades can cut steel, but nothing can cut will."

What was she mourning when she said those things? Who did she think of? he wondered. 

May the gods protect you tomorrow, she hoped. They've taken so many away from me along the way. 

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[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Four

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 20.6k

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Updates on the 7th of each month

Hello darling readers, it's Dana! Happy April, I am so excited to bring you this month's update; Chapter Four! We're picking up exactly where we left off, and there's lots going on in this chapter. Expect a bit more paranormal happenings in this chapter, particularly towards the end (nothing TOO frightening, but I figured I'd warn in advance) Of course, we have a few moments of angst, a handful of flirtatious banter, and a lot more information revealed about the hybrids themselves. As always, I love to hear from readers; comments or questions! Please know that I will answer each response in time, I am currently going through an emotional time with my family 💜 The taglist is still open, as well. Without further ado, please enjoy this update, and thank you so much for reading and supporting my work!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Immediately, Y/N could see Namjoon recognized the relation between her and her mother– if he was taken aback, it didn’t show. However, his face completely changed like night and day as he broke out into a fond grin at her mother after a beat. 

After a split second of deduction, Y/N figured that apparently, her mother was who Namjoon knew at the library. Feeling completely out of place as her mother hurried from out behind the desk and gave Namjoon a tearful hug, Y/N was positively flabbergasted. What were the chances of Y/N adopting a hybrid her mother knew? The book club, by law of the state, could only accept adopted hybrid members, and until a few nights ago, Namjoon was very much unadopted. 

“You came by every day! I thought something bad may have happened to you,” her mother broke free from the hug slightly, wiping a tear from her eye as she assessed Namjoon, like she was searching for injuries. 

Namjoon tilted his head, her mother right about that– he had landed in Boston’s “finest” shelter after being dragged off the street in his wolf form. Unadopted, it was likely that Namjoon had found a way to put up a front about his situation and was somehow found out later on. Her mother couldn’t have been the one to report Namjoon judging by her genuine relief upon seeing him, Y/N thought, but the missing explanation on how he had gotten into the book club in the first place was piquing Y/N’s curiosity the most. 

“I’m alright,” Namjoon replied, rich voice muffled by the velvet shawl covering her mother’s shoulder. “Something… came up,” he added as he pulled away, eyes darting from Y/N to her mother, seemingly examining similarities and differences in their features. Her mother frowned sympathetically but did not pry, seemingly knowing better than to do so with Namjoon. As if just remembering Y/N was standing there gawking at the pair of them, her mother pressed a hand to her chest. 

“Oh, honey, I forgot to call your hybrid’s name over the intercom, I’m sorry, Namjoon, one moment…” her mother rushed back behind the desk, Namjoon raising his eyebrows at Y/N, who was floundering under his pointed gaze. “What was his name?”

“Uh, mom. It’s alright. Namjoon is the said hybrid,” Y/N scratched the back of her head, Namjoon clearly unimpressed she had panicked right away not being able to find him. Her mother was instantly confused, looking from her to Namjoon with suspicion. Expecting her to make an elaborate spectacle, Y/N braced herself, only to be met with her mother’s careful composure. 

“Huh. Snuck past the law, didn’t you, you smart boy,” her mother reached out to ruffle Namjoon’s hair, dimples appearing in the wolf hybrid’s cheeks, because of course he had them. Her mother then squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, adding, “This is my daughter I’ve mentioned before, which I’m assuming you’ve gathered by now. And you can return to the book club again, I need your help leading the discussions once more. They’ve been a bit uninspiring since your absence.”

Namjoon appeared to glow under her mother’s praise, but Y/N thought she may have been buttering him up a bit too much. Her mother had a knack for flattery. There was also the unspoken that hung around the atmosphere, her mother’s lack of interrogation and swift acceptance forming a pit in Y/N’s stomach. Usually, she’d be the type to pry out every detail of how Y/N had managed to become acquainted with Namjoon, but shockingly her mother refrained, seemingly occupied in rummaging around in the returns rack. She pulled out a book from behind the desk, handing it to Namjoon: Wuthering Heights. 

“This is the book we’re reading for the next two weeks. Started it yesterday, so the others don’t have too much of a head start yet,” her mother folded her arms over her chest, looking particularly smug that they were reading one of Y/N’s favorite books as she noticed the eager grin growing on her daughter’s face. “You can ask Y/N just about any question you have about that particular book and she’ll bring out all ten of the essays she’s written on it.”

“Jesus, mom. Exaggeration much?” Y/N scoffed, watching Namjoon carefully tuck the book under his arm. “I only wrote two essays on it,” she muttered under her breath, unable to deny her great obsession for everything Bronte circa her college days. 

“Excuse me, I’m scheduled to meet someone for an interview here at 10, but I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go?” A young man anxiously gripping a map interrupted the conversation by catching the attention of her mother behind the desk. 

“Oh, you must be Joseph! I’ll take you up to the office myself,” her mother exclaimed, glancing at Y/N and Namjoon. “I’ll see you two on Friday, alright? Y/N, honey, don’t put that salt on the windowsills, it’ll stain the finish,” she added, motioning for Joseph to follow her around the desk. 

With that, she was gone in an instant, leaving Y/N with a hybrid who still seemed to resent the fact that she thought he had run away. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Y/N started to sweat under the beret she was wearing, cursing her wardrobe choices that morning already. 

“Uh… well, your introduction to my mother was less painful than it was when she stopped by to meet the others yesterday,” Y/N began thoughtfully, spinning around to face Namjoon, all imposing height and narrowed, probing eyes. Her stomach turned uncomfortably, reminding her she had yet to eat anything that morning. “Come on, Namjoon, I’ll buy you a pastry from the cafe here,” she motioned towards the small counter at the front of the library littered with small bistro tables, comfortably walled off by planter partitions.

With an arched brow, Namjoon sucked in his cheeks as he reluctantly followed Y/N to the counter, ears turned flat against his skull. The woman working by the oven was pulling out a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls, the saccharine scent of buttery confection making Y/N nearly swoon. Fishing around in her bag, she pulled out her wallet, promptly ordering a cinnamon roll and an espresso for herself. Catching Namjoon gazing at the cherry pie displayed in a glass cake stand, she thought about getting him a slice before thinking the better of it. He seemed like the type to want to order his own food. 

“Hiya, Namjoon! The usual?” The cheery woman from behind the counter gave Namjoon a kindly smile, placing a tiny cup under the espresso machine for Y/N. Brightening up a bit, Namjoon nodded, crowding behind Y/N as the woman added a hot black coffee and a slice of cherry pie to Y/N’s order. Forking over the cash, she waited silently at the end of the counter with Namjoon for his pie to be heated up in the oven. 

He hadn’t said anything to her directly since they were in the car. Namjoon must have had questions, simply because Y/N knew she had her own fair share, but he seemed to be in no hurry to voice them as he plucked a brown leaf off of the potted plant sitting at the end of the counter. Once Namjoon had his mug and pie balanced in his hands, Y/N found a little table for two vacant at the corner of the cafe. Seated across from Namjoon, taking what seemed to be a soul-satisfying sip of coffee with his eyes closed, Y/N found she had forgotten every question she was going to ask him. Shrugging, she dove into her cinnamon roll, still hot from the oven and practically melting in her mouth. 

“What’s that salt for?” Namjoon asked suddenly, using the side of his fork to collect a bite of pie on the utensil. He gave a pointed look to Y/N’s tote bag as he chewed his pie, ignoring the surprise on her face. 

“Hmm. If I said it's for witchcraft, what would be your response?” Y/N decided to answer truthfully, with the knowledge of him likely being able to sniff out a lie in the forefront of her mind. If he called her crazy, she could handle that, but a liar was something she no longer wished to be with any of the hybrids. In fact, she’d planned on coming clean with the others about the ghost sighting in the house later that afternoon when she got the chance. 

Namjoon, sipping his coffee thoughtfully as he scanned her face, seemed to consider her words carefully. Setting his mug down, he sat back in his chair with a sigh. 

“I already knew your mother was a witch, she told me– not that it was very difficult to piece together. So, it makes sense you practice too… but that doesn’t really answer my question. What, exactly, do you need black salt for? Protection from something?” Namjoon clarified, with particular emphasis on the last question. 

Opening and closing her mouth, Y/N abruptly drained her espresso cup for some kind of a lifeline, not expecting Namjoon to be so direct or even have knowledge about the uses of black salt. He nonchalantly went back to enjoying his pie, waiting patiently for her explanation. 

“Okay, sure. It’s for protection, I think the house is overdue for some cleansing and some boundaries to keep a few uninvited guests… out,” Y/N toed around the issue as honestly as possible without including the word ghosts, deciding it was a little strange to be discussing something like that in a library cafe. Returning to her cinnamon roll, she chased some icing at the edge of the plate with a crispy layer of pastry. Y/N had yet to plan out the exact ritual she was going to conduct, fleetingly wishing that she had her mother’s old spellbook at the house to consult. 

“I read a lot about modern witchcraft here. I didn’t know all too much about it before I met your mother at the book club,” Namjoon confessed, crumpling up his napkin on his empty pie plate. “If I hadn’t seen certain things myself, I’d write it all off as new-age garbage.”

Tilting her head, Y/N’s curiosity had climbed tenfold. For someone so burly and serious looking, Namjoon’s apparent interest in the occult came as a great surprise. Not to mention, she desperately wanted to ask about what “things” Namjoon had referenced seeing to make him a believer at all. It didn’t seem like the time nor place, however.

“Namjoon, not to change the subject, but how were you able to get into the book club?” Y/N blurted out the first thing that came to mind, distantly hoping he wasn’t withholding any embarrassing stories her mother had relayed to him about her daughter. 

“You mean, while I was unadopted,” Namjoon returned bluntly, holding his hand up in response to Y/N offering a piece of her cinnamon roll. “It was easy enough, I created a fake certificate on one of the computers in the lab here after seeing a flier for the book club nailed to a telephone pole.” 

“Oh,” was all Y/N could think to say, the explanation much simpler than she had anticipated, feeling silly that she had asked at all. Pushing her plate away, she again wondered how he had ended up in the shelter considering her mother knew him well enough to be so moved by his absence. Someone must have ratted him out, but who, and how did they even find out about his forged certificate? 

“Should we get going?” Namjoon interrupted her internal dialogue, his chair scraping against the floor as he collected their cups, plates, and his book. Scrambling to her feet, Y/N tried her best to keep up with Namjoon’s long strides, almost falling over upon seeing his beautiful smile directed at the woman behind the counter. 

On the way back to the car, she caught Namjoon casting a look at the desk where they had met her mother, but she wasn’t there, cueing the corners of his mouth to turn down in disappointment. Clearly, she had left a lasting impression on Namjoon. 

Outside, the weather was still cool and pleasant, tourists ambling down Boylston street with great shopping bags swinging from the crooks of their elbows. The black salt in her tote bag felt like it weighed one hundred pounds, placing it in the backseat of her car as she slid in. The tinny old tape resumed, crackling to life in the speaker, Mick Jagger sounding more like Kermit than anything. Namjoon, once settled in his seat, started reading Wuthering Heights straight away, leaving Y/N to focus on the route home and planning out some kind of cleansing and banishing ritual in her mind.

“Wow. Stick Style?” Namjoon let himself through the iron gate Y/N pulled open, taking him around the front upon remembering she had put the bar lock across the sliding kitchen door the night before out of paranoia. 

“That’s right,” Y/N confirmed, carefully navigating the brick walkway to the porch in order not to trip. One of her missions for the day was to watch her clumsiness, and a stray loose brick would put a kink in that plan for sure. “This one was built in 1886 for a judge and his family.”

Namjoon was busy admiring the trees crowding the yard when Y/N noticed the packages piled up on the doorstep, squinting as she tried to see what they were. Bending to collect them, one was a thick packet from the bank, and the other was a medium sized box from her phone carrier. The hybrid’s credit cards and phones arrived far quicker than she had expected, to her delight; they’d be able to buy what they wanted that afternoon at some of the shops and even call her if they wandered off and lost her. Tucking the packages under her arm, she managed to unlock the door while her tote bag slid down her arm, pushing the door open with a loud creak. 

The house was lively. The scent of bacon nearly knocked her off her feet, a lovely song coming from the piano upstairs, and there was chatter Y/N could hear coming from far off in the kitchen. Someone had lit the candles in the sconces on the wall, making the house feel cozy compared to the cool, overcast morning. Grinning, Y/N felt glee well up inside of her, the house feeling so lived-in already that it reminded her of the holidays with her grandparents as a child. Tossing a look over her shoulder, Namjoon hesitated at the threshold of the front door, appearing to size up the scale of the home, before entering the foyer behind her and shutting the door firmly. Upon further consideration, he locked the deadbolt behind him, Y/N raising her eyebrow but saying nothing. 

“Good morning Y/N–” Seokjin bounded out of the kitchen, a strip of bacon in his hand on its way to his parted lips, freezing as he registered Namjoon behind her. Slowly, he lowered his arm, recovering pretty well once he noticed Y/N trying to juggle the packages and her tote bag threatening to crash to the ground, the jaguar hybrid promptly catching the bag and setting it carefully on the staircase. “Hello, Namjoon,” he greeted evenly, waving with his piece of bacon. Y/N snickered, Namjoon offering a short nod in response. 

“Did Yoongi make you some breakfast?” Y/N asked Seokjin, his tail flicking back and forth languidly as he shook his head. Upon mentioning the leopard hybrid’s name, the music upstairs abruptly cut short. Y/N was reminded once more of the hybrid’s incredible hearing, sending a shiver down her spine. No more late-night trips to the kitchen for some shredded cheese out of the bag. 

“No, Jimin,” was his response, nodding his head towards the kitchen. “Yoongi’s tinkering around on the piano, and hasn’t even come down yet. Nor Taehyung.”

“Mind if I take a look around?” Namjoon interjected, arms crossed over his chest as he stared straight into Y/N’s face, expression neutral. Clearing her throat, Y/N tried to make a “go ahead” motion with her arms while holding the packages. 

“Be my guest,” she side-eyed the box of things she had collected for him at the foot of the stairs, which he had yet to notice. “Find a bedroom you like, while you’re at it, and come find us after.”

“Sure,” Namjoon agreed absently, slowly taking off down the hall towards Jimin’s room. Thoughtfully munching on his bacon, Seokjin shrugged, following Y/N to the kitchen in her pursuit of a letter opener. 

At the island was Hoseok stirring cream into Y/N’s old Darth Vader mug, face puffy with sleep, and she caught a glimpse of Jimin by the stove dressed in his new jeans and the beige linen button down. Upon further examination, he had a bit of batter on his nose as he flipped a pancake expertly on the skillet. Hoseok offered her a sleepy smile, patting the bar stool next to him for her to sit while Seokjin swiped more bacon from the plate by Jimin at the stove. 

“Morning, Miss Y/N, would you like some pancakes, or bacon before Seokjin eats it all?” Jimin turned around, flinching as Seokjin attempted to collect the batter off of the coyote hybrid’s nose with an index finger. Snorting, she shook her head, feeling the cinnamon roll from the library cafe sitting in her stomach like a boulder. 

“No thanks, sweetheart, I got something to eat on the way home with Namjoon,” she answered easily, using the letter opener to hack open the packet from the bank. Hoseok, while stiffening at the sound of the wolf hybrid’s name, couldn’t help himself by nearly hooking his chin over Y/N’s shoulder to peer at the letter she was scanning, offering simple instructions for the card activations. Pulling out her phone, she followed the steps, smirking at the sound of Hoseok noisily slurping his coffee in her ear. 

As she was peeling the cards off of the papers from the packet, the glass slider behind her slid open, making her frown as she realized her and Namjoon could have entered that way after all. Peeking over her shoulder, she knew who it was before she got a good look– Jeongguk.

Dressed in every black item that Y/N had purchased for him, his complexion was a tad on the paler side, Jeongguk looked quite bewildered as he stumbled into the kitchen. Clearing his throat, he absently tossed a cigarette butt– smoked down to the filter– into the ashtray outside before shutting the door hastily. Frowning, Y/N stacked the credit cards on the table, wondering why he seemed so freaked out, but held her tongue out of stubbornness due to the previous night’s spat. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Hoseok called out, a note of disgust coloring his tone as he watched Jeongguk distractedly melt onto the booth of the breakfast bar. Jeongguk waved his hand dismissively, scribbling something down in his notebook with the pen from behind his ear. Rolling his eyes, Hoseok returned to his coffee while Y/N began to open up the box with the phones. 

“Morning,” Yoongi entered the room, a serene look on his face as he accepted a mug of coffee from Seokjin. It was nice to see some of the hybrids get along so amicably so far, and Y/N was trying to squash the small voice in her head telling her they were just putting on a front for her benefit. 

Putting the box of phones on the barstool next to her, Y/N double-checked to make sure the proper amount of devices were in there before taking her hat off to run her fingers through her hair. Eyes were on her as soon as the hat left her head, Y/N self-consciously wondering if her hair smelled sweaty or something. Jimin began to harshly wash pans immediately after, his honeyed strands of hair falling into his face as he worked. 

“Anyone seen Taehyung yet today? It’s almost noon, and he was the one most eager to go out today,” Seokjin remarked, passing a hand over his stomach as he returned uncooked bacon to the fridge. Y/N was unsurprised Taehyung had locked himself away while she was gone, considering he had even excused himself from the parlor yesterday as soon as she was unconscious. He didn’t seem to have any interest in getting to know the others. 

“He’s up. I heard his shower going while I was working on the piano,” Yoongi replied, cracking his knuckles as he went to sit across from Jeongguk at the breakfast bar. Either he was trying to bury the hatchet, or was keeping an eye on the elk hybrid; either way the latter hardly looked up from his notebook. 

“Working?” Y/N repeated with confusion, wondering if he was writing a musical or something. 

“Yeah, tuning it. You had a kit in the compartment under the piano bench, and some of the keys were a little flat,” Yoongi explained patiently, tracing a dainty pinky finger around the lip of his coffee mug while he spoke. This sparked excitement within her, thinking once again about lessons to inquire about at the music store later that afternoon, especially now that the piano was getting looked after by someone like Yoongi. 

“That song you were playing when I came home was very pretty,” Y/N complimented, hoping she, too, could play half as well as Yoongi one day. His cheeks turned pink, murmuring a thank-you, studiously staring out the window. 

Y/N passed her fingers over the glossy credit cards, the ridges of Namjoon’s name on the top card making her wonder where he had ended up. With Hoseok next to her, definitely more quiet than usual, she made a mental note to keep an eye on the fox hybrid that afternoon now that Namjoon would be joining them on their outing, or so she hoped. She still didn’t know if sad-sack Jeongguk would come with them, but leaving him alone in the house made her feel melancholy, even if he was a brat. 

“Hoseok, are you going to shower before we leave? I can smell the sweat coming off of you all the way from here,” Seokjin suddenly complained, leaning forward on the island to sniff in Hoseok’s direction dramatically. Hoseok let the comment roll off his shoulders, patronizingly stroking Seokjin’s hand from across the island with a grin. Displeasure washed over Seokjin’s lovely face comically.

“I’ll make sure to wait for you in the shower, cupcake. Maybe you should join me for a morning workout next time,” Hoseok pushed himself off of his barstool with a great heave, chuckling at Seokjin’s angry barking insults as he vanished from the room. 

“You should know by now not to try and out-fox the fox with verbal shell games, Seokjin. It’s getting embarrassing for all of us, at this point,” Yoongi called out from the breakfast bar, making Y/N chortle loudly. Seokjin frowned, his tail flicking back and forth in an agitated manner. 

“Alright, come on,” Y/N sighed, brushing away a tear of amusement from the corner of her eye, “I’ve got something for you guys. Figured you’d need these in this great age of technology,” she stood, scooping up several phone boxes from the open package to deal out like cards, sliding one each across the island to Jimin and Seokjin before delivering two more to Yoongi and Jeongguk at the breakfast bar.

The room was so quiet, a pin could drop and it would sound like a gunshot as each hybrid stared at their phone boxes, Y/N biting her lip as Jeongguk took his phone from her like a live grenade. 

“Uh, remind me to give you my number when you set the phones up, just in case anything happens and you can’t find me physically, or something,” Y/N babbled, wondering if now was a bad time to pass out the credit cards, considering the astounded looks on everyone’s faces. “Hmm. I guess I should look for Taehyung… Namjoon too. We’ll leave in about a half hour?” She continued upon further silence from the hybrids, catching Seokjin examining the box of his new cell phone like it was an exotic insect. 

Yoongi nodded robotically, Jimin whispering something to Seokjin as they both read the back of their phone boxes. Tucking the credit cards in her skirt pocket and scooping up the remaining phones, she offered the stunned hybrids a warm smile before heading towards the hallway. Jimin looked like he wanted to follow Y/N, but Seokjin caught his wrist and started to point at something on the box. 

In the hallway, Y/N took a deep breath, nearly stumbling over Namjoon’s box of items by the stairs. Cursing, she regained her balance, almost toppling over again as she heard the door to the green room from behind her creak loudly. Dread flooded through her in an instant, praying the old hag ghost wasn’t two paces from breathing down her neck. Spinning around, she was relieved to see Namjoon peeking his head out from behind the door, an eyebrow raised. 

“Sorry, you startled me,” Y/N breathed, Namjoon stepping out into the hall with a grunt of acknowledgement. 

“I think the sooner you do that protection ritual, the better you’ll feel,” Namjoon remarked, hands on hips. He wasn’t wrong about that, Y/N thought. “This room taken?” He nodded towards the green room where Seokjin had stayed. 

“No, you can have it,” Y/N tried her best not to shy away from his close proximity, the sensation of him towering over her a bit overwhelming. “This box is for you, some clothes to get you through the next couple of weeks and toiletries. Oh, this too,” Y/N nudged the box on the floor before remembering the phones in her hand, hastily handing one over to him. Eyebrows furrowed, he pocketed the phone swiftly, more interested in the contents of the box of clothes he kneeled down to take a look at. 

“Hey, we’re all going to head out into town in a bit to get some fresh air, and you’re invited as well, of course,” Y/N said, suddenly feeling shy as he leafed through some of the shirts she had chosen for him. Namjoon hummed, the sound slightly gravelly, his ear flickering. 

“I’ll go with you,” Namjoon agreed, stretching back up to his full height, his face softer than she had seen it before, at least directed towards her. “Thanks, by the way,” he added gently, lifting the box off the ground, taking one last look at her before hauling it into his room.

Reeling, Y/N absently trudged up the stairs, unable to get the look he had on his face out of her head. A ghost of the fondness he had shown for her mother reflected in Namjoon’s expression, and even if it lasted for a moment, it felt precious to her. As she reached the second floor, she heard Hoseok’s whistling from the basement. Hastening to Taehyung’s room, Y/N paused to listen for any movement, but heard nothing. Before she could knock, the door flung open, Y/N’s jaw hanging open as she dropped her hand limply. 

“Are we leaving?” Taehyung leaned against the door jamb, dressed in his blue long-sleeve and dark jeans. His hair was still wet from the shower, ringlets surrounding his face like a cherub. Tapping his foot, Taehyung seemed eager to embark on their outing as he peered out into the hallway, scanning the surroundings. 

“Shortly, yes,” Y/N replied, the scent of sandalwood coming off of him powerfully. As they started down the hall together, Y/N chatting mindlessly about the events of the morning and giving him his phone, she couldn’t help but think that Taehyung had to be one of the easiest to talk to. 

Like Jimin, Taehyung listened intently, but wasn’t so intense in his gaze as she talked, having more of a calming– as opposed to dazzling– effect on her. Out of everyone, he seemed to be the most excited about the phone, opening it immediately and passing it to Y/N to plug in her phone number. She did so blindly as they reached the kitchen, Taehyung sticking to her side closely as she created a contact for herself. 

The kitchen was in a bit of commotion as they entered, Hoseok loudly complaining about Seokjin polishing off the bacon, and Jimin trying to keep up his carefully-constructed patience as he told Seokjin how to turn on his phone. Yoongi had migrated to the coffee bar, apparently making himself a to-go cup, and Jeongguk was already typing away on his new phone at the breakfast nook. 

Y/N made her rounds putting her number in the other’s phones, Jeongguk reluctantly parting with his when she reached him. She endured the awkwardness of their interaction, the words he spat the previous night hovering in the air starkly. She could tell, by the set of his jaw, that Jeongguk was likely recalling the events, avoiding her eyes expertly. Feeling Taehyung breathing down her neck as she punched the digits into Jeongguk’s phone, Y/N hurriedly handed it back to the elk hybrid, who was huffing impatiently. At least, she thought distantly, he had the decency to look a little sheepish when she smiled at him sweetly. 

When Namjoon entered the kitchen, every head turned to look at him. Y/N only registered the disturbance when she couldn’t hear Hoseok and Seokjin bickering anymore, looking up from Jimin’s phone with interest. Namjoon, standing stiffly at the threshold of the kitchen, scanned each hybrid briefly, spending a little more time watching Taehyung linger at Y/N’s side at the sink. Returning Jimin’s phone to him, Y/N cleared her throat, nervously shooting a glance at Hoseok, who had either subconsciously or accidentally pulled Seokjin in front of him like some kind of meat-shield. Even Yoongi, wiping down the counter, seemed perturbed by the wolf hybrid’s presence, his ears turned downwards. The tension in the room was nearly suffocating, all of the ease vanishing as soon as Namjoon walked in. 

“Well, now that everyone’s here, we can head out now,” Y/N clapped once in an attempt to dissolve some of the tension, only succeeding in making Jimin jump in surprise. Patting his back gingerly in apology, she inched towards Namjoon without Taehyung following her like a shadow, to her surprise, while desperately hoping to corral everyone out to the car in one piece. “Ready?”

Y/N walked in tandem with Namjoon out the front door, counting heads like a school teacher as each hybrid exited the house. They grouped together in cliques, Yoongi and Jimin, Seokjin and Hoseok– Jeongguk, of course, was by himself but stayed close to Yoongi curiously enough. The five lingering by the Land Cruiser kept considerable distance from both Taehyung and Namjoon, who also appeared to stay clear of one another. 

Without a question, the rest of the hybrids said nothing as Namjoon slid into the passenger seat promptly, Taehyung reluctantly climbing into the seat behind Y/N. Seokjin, mumbling about Hoseok pushing him too harshly, crammed himself in the third row of the car beside Jeongguk followed by the fox hybrid. Before Namjoon could put the horrid Rolling Stones tape on again, Y/N switched on the radio, a Britney Spears song filling the car with a bit of sunshine. Once again, Yoongi found himself in the center seat of the second row with a grimace on his face, making eye contact with Y/N in the rearview. Trying to appear apologetic, she gave him a half-smile as she pulled out into the street. Hoseok began to whistle along to the tune of Gimme More. 

After finding a decent parking spot at the cluster of shops in the middle of the town and passing out the hybrid’s new credit cards, everyone flooded out into the square in a mostly orderly manner. They parked closest to the music store, which was right across from Judy’s metaphysical shop where Y/N was planning to pick up hours to pay for all future expenses. Seokjin, kindly, held the door open for everyone to enter the dusty-smelling music store, smiling politely at an elderly woman ambling in behind Y/N. 

Upon entering the store, everyone peeled off in different directions. Shiny electric guitars, polished brass trumpets, and long coiled bunches of cables hung from the pegboard walls, large drum kits and cases of vinyls were strewn in every direction. The place was sensory overload, positively crammed with inventory and unique looking people working behind the counters, unfazed by the seven hybrids running all over the place. Namjoon, of course, was by the single small bin by the front door overflowing with two dollar tapes. Passing by Taehyung at the jazz vinyl shelf, Y/N made her way to the far corner of the shop where the piano sheet music was displayed in crates, Yoongi scanning a thin booklet in his delicate hands, his spotted tail curling around his leg placidly. 

Curiously, and not without the feeling that she had no idea what she was looking at, Y/N pawed through a crate of piano music from movies, trying her best to give Yoongi enough space to move around in the tight corner. She fumbled with a book filled with the score from Grease, suddenly aware of the gold-green eyes burning a hole into her cheek while she was trying to decipher the foreign symbols evidently depicting musical notes. Glancing at Yoongi out of the corner of her eye, she sighed, putting the book down upon seeing his wry grin.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Y/N groaned, too shy to venture up to the counter and ask the middle-aged man with a graying ponytail and scally cap about lessons. “I can’t even read sheet music– the guy giving me my lessons would probably laugh me out of the practice room. The window of learning this type of thing has probably closed for me anyways.”

Yoongi scoffed, leaning his hip against the crate he was previously leafing through, a stack of booklets tucked under his arm. With narrowed eyes, he scanned the pout shadowing Y/N face. 

“That’s all bullshit, anyone can learn to play an instrument at any age,” Yoongi started, tucking a long strand of hair behind his ear, “You know, I could just teach you piano. We can do weekly lessons, and start small. Why bother paying someone here when you have a piano and a teacher already at home?” 

Mouth opening and closing, Y/N squeaked out something like what, realization crashing down on her embarrassingly. She hadn’t even thought to ask Yoongi, and he brought up an excellent point– for what reason should she drive down to the music shop weekly for lessons when she could play the old piano at home that sparked the interest in the first place. Expectantly, Yoongi searched her face, waiting for a coherent answer to his proposition. 

“You’d do that? I mean, that would be great– I’d really love that,” Y/N managed, Yoongi nodding purposefully. Showing her a booklet from the stack under his arm, Y/N read the title: Piano Classics for Beginners. Heat blooming in her cheeks, she realized Yoongi must have hatched this plan on the ride into town. 

“We can start with this. I think Fridays would be good for lessons, that way you’ll have all week to familiarize yourself with the piano until our first one,” he tapped the cover of the book as he spoke, thinly veiled excitement showing on his expression. Glowing, Y/N agreed fervently, absolutely enthralled to have both lessons and an opportunity to bond with Yoongi on her horizon. 

Yoongi went back to sorting through the piano books, eyeing each title carefully. Still riding the high of his offer, Y/N left the leopard hybrid in search of Seokjin or Hoseok. The two were arguing by the counter, Hoseok audibly more loud than the jaguar hybrid, one of the women working behind the counter awkwardly fiddling with a roll of quarters as she witnessed the dispute. Frowning, Y/N approached, trying not to panic that Hoseok was leaning his back against a wobbly and expensive looking French horn on a stand. 

“How could you just watch him stroll right by and out the door? You were right there next to the bulletin board, Hoseok,” Seokjin pointed to the front of the shop, eyes bulging out of his skull as his tail flicked back and forth in an urgent manner. Hoseok groaned, arms crossed over his chest as he noticed Y/N standing in front of them. 

“What happened? Hoseok, please, you’re going to knock that over,” Y/N pulled him closer to her by his upper arm, away from the French horn the woman behind the counter was anxiously staring at. 

“Jeongguk left, like five minutes ago. Hoseok just told me,” Seokjin pushed a worried hand through his blue-black waves, eyebrows pulled together in distress as if he was about to be scolded. Not ideal, Y/N thought.

“It’s okay, he has a phone now, remember? He probably went out for a smoke or to check out another store. I’ll give him a call if he doesn’t turn up in the next fifteen minutes,” Y/N tried her best to soothe Seokjin, although she was worried herself that Jeongguk was already hitchhiking halfway to Vermont. 

“That’s what I tried to explain to him, but he managed to blame me for Jeongguk’s departure,” Hoseok groaned, clearly exasperated by the whole conversation. Seokjin shot him a thanks a lot look. 

Scanning the shop, Y/N realized that Jeongguk wasn’t the only one missing. Jimin, too, had vanished, and Namjoon looked ready to leave by the door with a plastic bag full of tapes as well. Taehyung and Yoongi were in line around the opposite side of the counter ready to make their own purchases. Chewing her lip, she turned back to Hoseok, knowing he had likely seen Jimin leave as well. 

“Did you happen to see Jimin leave?” Y/N asked, catching Hoseok’s attention mid-glare directed at Seokjin. 

“Yeah, he went to go look for the elk,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, finally maintaining distance from the French horn as Y/N yanked him away from it once more. Breathing a small sigh of relief that she already had someone out there searching for Jeongguk, Y/N waited patiently for Taehyung and Yoongi to check out and make their way to Namjoon by the door. 

“Find anything good?” Y/N asked both Taehyung and Namjoon as they exited the shop, trying to ignore the bickering behind her coming from Seokjin and Hoseok, even Yoongi joining in on the pettiness. 

Taehyung clutched his flat paper bag filled with his goods close to his chest, a warm smile across his lips, slightly pulling one of the vinyls out to show her a Mad Season record. Y/N recalled she never asked him what he was going to say about that band. Namjoon, swinging the bag in his fist as they walked out into the bricked courtyard, looked down at Y/N in a detached way. 

“They had folk tapes, mostly. I saved the least… grating ones from the bin,” Namjoon replied slowly, eyes going from her face to Taehyung’s, an ounce of suspicion in his voice. 

Nodding, Y/N could palpably feel ice forming between the wolf and Kodiak hybrids as they stared at one another, wondering what possibly could have happened in the short span of time spent together to warrant the hostility in their eyes. Considering the amount of the hybrids that already disliked one another; Hoseok and Namjoon, Jeongguk and everyone else, and now Namjoon and Taehyung, Y/N felt that she might have bitten off more than she could chew. She held no regrets, of course, but she definitely had the feeling that she’d need some help from her friends to get the hybrids to loosen up a bit at the cookout on Friday to prevent a bloodbath. 

Shivering at a particularly brisk breeze rolling by, Y/N searched the courtyard for any sightings of Jimin or Jeongguk, spotting Jimin’s honeyed head of hair peering into the window of the bookstore. Ditching the two hybrids in their icy stare-off, she hurried over to the coyote hybrid, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets as he strolled further away from her to the next storefront. 

“Jimin!” Y/N called after him, his ears immediately perking up as he swiveled around to look at her. His expression changed from happy surprise to guilt almost instantly, halting his movements as she made her way to his side. “Any luck finding Jeongguk?” 

“No, I’m sorry, Miss Y/N,” Jimin wrung his hands together, eyebrows pinching together in likely annoyance towards the elk hybrid. Patting his forearm gently, Y/N sighed. 

“It’s alright, Jimin, I appreciate you coming out here to look for him, though,” Y/N fumbled for her phone in her tote bag, ready to find Jeongguk’s number and call him. In the car earlier, she had each of them send her a text so she’d have all their contacts as well. Hoseok sent her a fox emoji, Seokjin and Jimin a simple “hello”, but all Jeongguk had sent was a period. 

“Y/N, I think he’s in there,” Hoseok shouted from across the courtyard, pointing dramatically at the storefront towards the exit. Squinting, Y/N barked out a laugh in disbelief, because of course Jeongguk had wandered into the metaphysical shop that happened to be her future employer. 

“Thanks, Hoseok!” Y/N panted, jogging over with Jimin to where most of the hybrids had clumped around by the metaphysical shop. “You guys can go into whatever store you like now– I have to stop in here anyways, and it’ll probably be for about a half hour. We can meet up after by the fountain over there, and get some ice cream before heading back. Okay?” 

Hoseok took one look at the sign for the metaphysical shop, frowned, before giving her a thumbs-up and dragging Seokjin towards the chocolate shop two doors down. Taehyung, still glaring at Namjoon, followed Yoongi and Jimin to the bookstore, while the wolf hybrid remained by Y/N’s side. Watching the others go made a smile grow across her face, the tension dissolving from the air as Y/N could see closer bonds already being formed– Hoseok’s arm slung around Seokjin’s shoulders, Jimin laughing at something Yoongi had uttered in his ear. 

“You coming in with me?” Y/N nodded towards the tinted glass door of Judy’s metaphysical shop upon noticing Namjoon not budging from her side. 

“I’d prefer to keep an eye on that elk hybrid. Him slipping away again might cause another fiasco,” Namjoon replied calmly, Y/N raising her eyebrows. She wouldn’t have categorized the last fifteen minutes as a fiasco, actually congratulating herself for remaining calm, however perhaps he could sense the underlying dread that had been flooding through her. Shrugging, she mumbled a “thank you” bashfully as he opened the door for her, the jingling of the witch bells fastened to the door announcing their arrival. 

It was dark in the small shop, and absolutely reeking of myrrh incense. Enya played on a CD player by the door, dim fabric colored lamplight allowing some visibility for the crowded shelves of candles, books, statues, and other oddities. In the corner of the shop, by the table of amulets, was Jeongguk, turning over a silver object between his thumb and forefinger. Not even bothering to inform him that they had formed a search party after his unannounced departure from the music store, Y/N found her way to the case in the back of the shop, which served as the checkout counter and a jewelry display. No one was behind the case– Judy must have been in the back room where tarot readings were held. Namjoon shuffled his feet behind her, running his fingers over a beautiful chunk of amethyst on the crystal table. 

Leaning on the case, Y/N admired bejeweled athames within it laying on beds of velvet. The shop was filled with so much inventory, and judging by the humongous book by the ancient register, it seemed everything was cataloged by hand. Y/N would certainly have her work cut out for her learning all of the wares, not to mention trying to recall what everything was used for or even called. 

“Oh, the wolf. How nice,” Jeongguk suddenly commented, noisily setting red candles, a stack of incense, and the silver amulet he had been holding when they came in on the checkout case. The amulet was some kind of saint medallion, but because Y/N was unfamiliar with Christianity, she had no idea who it was. Namjoon said nothing, heading over to the bookcase and pulling out leather-bound grimoires at random. 

“Hmm. These are pretty,” Y/N remained civil, examining one of the beautiful hand-dipped candles Jeongguk picked out. He grunted in response, impatiently tapping on the glass of the case and staring at the beaded curtain to the tarot reading room. 

Sighing, Y/N set her gaze on Namjoon while he was turned away, the muscles of his back flexing and relaxing as he hefted a large book off the shelf to leaf through. As if sensing that she was staring, Namjoon’s face tilted to the side, the length of his eyelashes catching lamplight as he locked eyes with her. Reddening, Y/N broke eye contact, not being able to shake the feeling that there was a certain familiarity in the color of his eyes. She could hear Namjoon approaching the case once more, Jeongguk groaning as he pulled a tattooed hand through his hair in exasperation. 

The clattering sound of wooden beads knocking together made for a good excuse to ignore the fact that Namjoon had returned to his spot behind her, once again crowding her against the glass case like he had at the library cafe. Judy, the shop owner and close friend of her mother, abruptly barrelled into the room from the back, carrying a large, old wooden chest she heaved onto the workbench behind the case the three of them were standing in front of. Pushing her rectangular spectacles up her nose distractedly, Judy’s crystal bracelets made clanging noises as she held up a single sun-weathered finger up to the three patrons waiting for her attention. 

Jeongguk shifted next to Y/N, looking aggravated as the woman began to leaf through the contents of the wooden chest. From behind her, Namjoon slid a well-worn copy of some sort of supernatural encyclopedia onto the case, his fingers accidentally brushing her forearm leaning onto the glass before yanking his hand away like he was burned. Gritting her teeth, wishing that either Hoseok or Taehyung were there to bring her a sense of ease, Y/N coiled her arms around her midsection as she tried to get space sandwiched between the elk and wolf hybrids. 

“Y/N, wonderful to see you after so long. Gentlemen,” Judy began after several moments of muttering to herself looking through the wooden chest, finally facing and greeting them standing before her. “Sorry for the wait. My assistant– er, son– recently went off to college, so it’s been difficult for me to keep track of my papers and whatnot…” 

Judy rang up Jeongguk’s items as she spoke, punching numbers into the old cash register noisily and pulling out tissue paper to wrap the candles. Glancing at her watch, Y/N made sure they still had time to meet the others without having to scramble. 

“My mother came to see you, am I right?” Y/N smiled at Judy, who was carefully tucking Namjoon’s book into a paper bag. Nodding with a chuckle, Judy pushed a curly strand of sandy hair from her face. 

“Oh, yes. Making promises without you being here– can you start next week?” Judy pulled out a packet of paper she had retrieved from the chest earlier, handing it to Y/N promptly. Snorting, Y/N flipped through the packet of inventory she was to learn, nodding sagely. Hopefully, by next week, the hybrids would be fairly settled in enough for her to leave them for a few hours. 

“How many days a week would you need me?” Y/N absently handed her credit card over to pay for Jeongguk and Namjoon’s items, forgetting that they had their own. Jeongguk made a noise of surprise, stuffing his card back into the pocket of his black jeans. 

“Only three; Monday, Wednesday, Thursday. Business has been slow ever since the colleges are back in session, and my son can come back on the weekends to help out. Sounds good?” Judy returned Y/N’s credit card to her, sliding the bag of items across the case towards Jeongguk, who she eyed in a thoughtful way. 

“That works for me,” Y/N agreed, although partly concerned that a three day work week wouldn’t garner much for a paycheck. 

“Here, honey. I think this will help you. Wrapped it up for you this morning,” Judy added suddenly, reaching behind her desk in the corner for an item. Accepting it, Y/N turned the smoke cleansing stick of cedar and rosemary over in her hands, positively amazed. She had forgotten Judy was a psychic medium, likely picking up on her need to cleanse and protect her home, and chose the perfect botanicals to assist her in that endeavor unprompted. 

“Thank you, Judy,” Y/N said sincerely, carefully tucking the herb bundle into the bag Jeongguk had in his hand. Judy waved her off, thanking her for picking up the hours at the shop, before a young woman came through the shop door for a scheduled psychic reading. Taking it as their cue to leave, Y/N corralled Jeongguk out the door, Namjoon following close behind her. 

Taking a lungful of incense-free air outside, Y/N felt hopeful about her new job. While it was likely an in-between before her next career move, it was refreshing to work someplace so vastly different. Jeongguk asked where they were meeting the others, walking very quickly to the fountain that Y/N had pointed to and away from her and Namjoon in a seemingly disturbed manner. Craning her neck up and back to look at Namjoon, she caught his narrowed eyes following Jeongguk’s form, jaw set dangerously. Clearing her throat, she managed to snag his attention, a degree of hostility slipping from his expression as their eyes met. 

“You’re going to work there?” Namjoon asked questions in the form of fact confirmation, Y/N noticed. 

“Mm-hmm. Just until I figure out what to do next,” Y/N replied, Namjoon’s half-torn ear fluttering lightly as she spoke. She wondered what had happened to it, with a feeling of melancholy flooding through her. “Gotta pay the bills in the meantime.”

“Things would be better, if the rest of us could actually get jobs,” Namjoon bit, Y/N feeling a tad awkward in his reference to the law forbidding hybrid employment. Not that it stopped certain businesses from exploiting hybrid labor illegally, which is what happened to Yoongi and likely some of the others. 

“I won’t deny the truth in that, Namjoon,” Y/N muttered lamely, not really knowing what else to add. It’s not like change in the medieval laws about hybrids would happen overnight, as much as she wished it would. All she could do was take the best possible care of her hybrids, and hope that as time passed things would change for the better. 

Namjoon was quiet after that, walking slowly by her side as they made their way to the fountain at the center of the courtyard. Everyone was waiting for them already, each with a bag or two of things that they had bought from various stores, Yoongi lazily lying on his side on the ledge of the fountain and enjoying the afternoon sun. 

“Y/N!” Hoseok sang, startling her as he skipped from around the fountain once her and Namjoon approached the meeting spot. Aggressively, Hoseok grabbed her wrist, yanking her away from Namjoon without sparing him a glance and pulling her to the opposite side of the fountain. Heart slamming up into her throat at Hoseok’s firm grip, she barely registered him straightening her out by her shoulders as he pushed her in front of Seokjin. 

“Look, Jin got these for the cookout you’re having,” Hoseok nudged Seokjin, who was holding a startlingly large bucket of toffee from the chocolate shop. Seokjin looked embarrassed, his cheeks pink and rounded as he sheepishly held out the bucket for Y/N to see. Immediately, she turned to mush at the thought of Seokjin picking out something to contribute at the cookout, and he was clearly proud of his choice, particularly when he gauged the joyful reaction on her face. 

“Wow Seokjin, everyone will love those, they look delicious! That was so kind of you, honey,” Y/N gushed, the red in Seokjin’s cheeks deepening as he lifted the lid off of the toffee so she could take a look. The slabs of toffee wafted a buttery scent, making her mouth water. Seokjin plucked a small shard of the toffee out of the bucket, suddenly grinning slyly. 

“Here, try some,” Seokjin lifted the piece of toffee to poise inches from her lips, stunning Y/N as her mouth dropped open involuntarily in shock. Absently hearing Hoseok chuckle, Y/N stood stunned as Seokjin pushed the toffee between her lips, the confection immediately beginning to melt in her mouth as he pulled his hand away. 

“Good?” Seokjin mused, tilting his head playfully. Positively burning up, Y/N carefully chewed the toffee as Seokjin smirked at her, closing up the tub. Tearing her gaze from him, her eyes regretfully landed on Hoseok, who sent her a cheeky wink. 

“Delicious,” Y/N murmured, feeling scandalized in front of the two hybrids clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. Did she really just let Seokjin feed her?

“Shall we get ice cream now, darling?” Hoseok shoved his hands in his pockets, still grinning at her smugly. Rolling her shoulders back, she agreed, casting a look over her shoulder as she felt someone approach from behind. To her relief, it was Taehyung, shooting a wary look at the peanut gallery in front of Y/N. 

Hurrying to Taehyung’s side with her cheeks still aflame, Y/N did her best to round everyone else up and usher them into the old-fashioned ice cream parlor to wrap up their afternoon outing. The parlor was filled with the scents of rich fudge and waffle cones, and the space was quite limiting with the eight of them jammed against the glass display case of gallons of ice cream. 

Y/N was pushed by Namjoon’s frame behind her into Jimin’s side by the register, patiently relaying each ice cream order as Jimin calmly repeated them to her in her ear. The teenaged boy taking the orders seemed to be overwhelmed by the amount of hybrids in the parlor at one given time, staring at Jeongguk’s antlers with shock as the elk hybrid elbowed his way towards Y/N to request some mint chocolate chip ice cream, which made Namjoon make a sound akin to gagging from behind her. 

Since there was hardly any room for everyone to sit inside the shop to enjoy their ice cream, Y/N opted to bring everyone back to the fountain to eat. She sat in between Yoongi and Taehyung, managing to keep her distance from Seokjin and Hoseok for the moment. They appeared to still be yucking it up at her expense, sitting together on the grass a little ways from her feet. Jeongguk took his ice cream to the opposite side of the fountain, playing some kind video on his phone in a foreign language; one that sounded pretty close to Latin. 

Namjoon had found a spot to enjoy his coffee ice cream on a bench not too far from the fountain, Y/N able to keep an eye on him. She regretfully realized she did nothing but fill him up on sugar and coffee since he had come into her care, as she shoveled a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, watching the wolf hybrid admire the yellowing leaves of the tree he was under. 

“Hmm. I forgot to ask… Do you have a record player back at your house?” Taehyung spoke lowly, his voice hard to hear over the babbling of the fountain behind them. He had long finished the small cup of strawberry soft-serve he held balanced between his knees, his records placed neatly by his feet. 

“Yeah, there’s a set-up somewhere in the room with the piano. It’s likely in one of those big cabinets, my uncle was a vinyl collector when he grew up there in the 70’s. His collection of records is in the garage, too, if you wanna pick through that when you get bored,” Y/N recalled, licking some cream from her lips in thought. She prayed that the record player still worked, although a new system would make an excellent Christmas present for Taehyung. 

Taehyung leaned back on his palms, gazing at her through the thick of eyelashes. His hair was dry by now, curly and wild with the wind that mussed the strands, hiding his rounded ears in the volume of it. Y/N noticed that Jimin, who was sitting beside Taehyung, had very obviously placed his shopping bag of books between them to get some space. She could tell he was listening to their conversation, with the way Jimin’s ears were angled forward and alert, twitching to the sound of Taehyung’s deep tone. 

“How was the ice cream, Taehyung?” Y/N crumpled up her napkin into her own empty cup, sighing contentedly. 

“Very good,” Taehyung murmured, suddenly dropping the eye contact he’d been maintaining. Like all of the hybrids, Y/N swore that they held some sort of spellbinding power in their gazes. “Thank you,” he added, absently clicking his heels together while staring at his sneakers. 

“Don’t mention it,” Y/N waved her hand, feeling embarrassed. 

“Ah, maybe I should have gotten the matcha ice cream…” Yoongi suddenly lamented beside her, elbows leaning on his knees. Frowning, Y/N turned to him, forgetting he was so close as her thigh pressed into his. Immediately, Yoongi stiffened, peering at her intensely through the corner of his eye. 

“Oh no, was the lemon sorbet gross?” Y/N felt her lip jutting out in a pout, disappointed Yoongi was unsatisfied with his half-melted treat. Yoongi cleared his throat awkwardly as he tore his eyes from her face, choosing to glare at Hoseok on the ground instead. 

“No–” 

“You should have gotten the matcha. It’s amazing,” Hoseok insisted, a smugness worming its way into his tone as he both cut Yoongi off and took a loud bite of the waffle cone he was eating. “Want some?” 

Hoseok extended his mostly-devoured cone towards Yoongi, who screwed up his face in disgust. Snorting softly, Y/N shook her head at Hoseok, his cheekiness seeming to get under everyone’s skin– Y/N found it endearing. 

“Get that out of my face, Foxy,” Yoongi complained, leaning closer to Y/N and firmly pressing his thigh into hers as he extended his leg to push Hoseok over with his foot. It was Y/N’s turn to go stiff, the warmth of Yoongi’s leg against the flimsiness of her tights overwhelming. She barely registered Hoseok tumbling over into Seokjin’s lap with an evil cackle, Seokjin nearly choking on a bite of his chocolate ice cream cone as he tried to fling Hoseok’s head off of his leg.

Feeling a chill wash over her despite the warmth coming from the contact with Yoongi, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, rubbing her arms to rid herself of goosebumps. She had no idea why she was feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, the sensation close to how she felt moments before the incident with the ghost the night before. Trying to nonchalantly take in the surroundings, praying that there wasn’t some sort of apparition following her around now, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes with Namjoon from his spot on the bench. 

Oh, so that’s where the chill was coming from, she realized, the expression on Namjoon’s face icy and closed off as he glared at her. His body language was coiled and tense, jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed fractionally once they caught hers. Hair stood up on the back of her neck as she was unable to look away from him, absolutely at a loss for why he seemed so pissed off at her. She hadn’t even spoken to him in at least twenty minutes; perhaps he was feeling left out? Y/N cocked her head at him, mouthing are you okay? 

Namjoon simply sucked in his cheeks, getting up from his seat and tossing his ice cream cup in the trash by the bench. Concerned, Y/N watched him storm off in the direction of the car, torn between wanting to go after him and not wanting to rush the others who were still eating and enjoying their afternoon. After a few more moments of distractedly listening to Hoseok tease Yoongi, who had thankfully inched away from her, she got up with Jimin to gather up trash and dispose of it where Namjoon had minutes prior. Namjoon had left his bag of tapes on the bench accidentally, as Jimin pointed out keenly. 

“How are you doing, Jimin? Find some new books?” Y/N tried to stop worrying about what she had done to tick Namjoon off, scooping up his bag of tapes carefully. Jimin held his book bag behind his back in his clasped hands, grinning down at her kindly. 

“Sure did, Miss Y/N. I wanted to pick up some local interest literature, to get an idea of what this area is like,” Jimin explained as they headed to the car, quickly placing a gentle hand on her back to direct her away from a divot in the grass that would have caused her a rolled ankle. “Watch your step, there.”

“That’s right, you’re not from around here. How long have you been away from Montana?” Y/N wondered, breathing a sigh of relief that she could spot Namjoon leaning against the car from about twenty feet away. Jimin was quiet for a moment, a sort of sad look in his golden eyes while he processed her question. 

“A little over a month, now,” Jimin responded wistfully, the corner of his mouth turning upwards as he met her eyes. Y/N recalled that there was a possibility Jimin had a family back in Montana, one that had no idea where he had ended up. The thought pierced through her heart painfully. 

Jimin helped her load everyone's bags into the trunk, Y/N carefully avoiding Namjoon as she took Jeongguk’s bag from him gingerly, offering him a small smile. He was truly becoming an expert in abstaining from eye contact with her. Closing the trunk, she stretched her arms out as she waited for everyone to get into the car, Namjoon still leaning against the passenger door with a scowl. Steeling herself, she approached him. 

“I grabbed your tapes, you left them on the bench,” Y/N started, Namjoon’s eyes narrowing at the sound of her voice. He looked her up and down, seemingly analyzing the way she was nervously rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. He didn’t respond to her, increasing her anxiety while he simply stood there imposingly.

“Is everything alright, Namjoon?” Y/N managed to squeak after a beat, the impulse to squirm under his scrutinizing extremely overpowering. His ears were turned back, straightening up to his full height to grasp the handle of the car door.

“Sure,” he replied flatly, yanking the door open and heaving himself in, slamming it in her face as she flinched backwards. Even more confused than she was before trying to speak with him, Y/N numbly got into the driver’s seat, feeling the tension between her and the wolf hybrid beside her so intensely it nearly took her breath away. 

Shakily, Y/N turned the radio on as per Hoseok’s request from the back seat, somewhat relieved that the others didn’t seem to sense her discomfort from what she could tell. Before pulling away from the plaza, Y/N checked the rearview to make sure everybody was accounted for, locking eyes with Yoongi accidentally. He had a knowing look on his face, gaze flicking between her and the back of Namjoon’s head, tracing a finger over his lower lip. Grimacing, Y/N threw the car in reverse, promptly ignoring the wolf hybrid next to her for the short duration of the ride back to the house. 

After pulling into the driveway back at home, to Y/N’s surprise, everyone divided off in different directions. Yoongi had gone up to the piano with Taehyung in search of the record player, Hoseok to the basement with Seokjin, and Jeongguk had disappeared in the backyard with a cigarette and one of his new candles. Both Jimin and Namjoon had retreated to their respective bedrooms, leaving Y/N by herself standing awkwardly in the foyer. 

Kicking off her shoes, Y/N figured she could take a shower and cozy up in bed with a movie before one of them sought her out again. She tiptoed past Namjoon’s room on her way to her’s, hoping that she wouldn’t provoke him into further annoyance considering their rooms were so close together. Even with his door shut tight, Y/N felt like he could see through the wood as she went by. Shivering, she recalled the small, sweet smile he offered her just hours ago, trying to wrack her brain to come up with an explanation of his soured mood. 

Perhaps she should have articulated her thoughts better during their conversation surrounding the hybrids getting jobs, but there was not much she could do about that now that so much time had passed. Entering her room, she rubbed her eyes, feeling the chill from the drafty bathroom window enticing her to curl up in bed with sweats. To her shock, either Jeongguk or Namjoon had left the herb bundle from Judy on her nightstand, although she caught neither of them sneaking into her room when they arrived home. She was a bit distracted, however, telling Taehyung exactly where to look for the record player upstairs. Either way, her heart squeezed, fingers brushing over the herb bundle.

After a brief shower, Y/N hightailed it out of her bathroom to prevent another ghostly encounter, dressing in her softest sweatpants and crawling into bed with her laptop. Supposing that now was as good a time as any to figure out how to cleanse the house, Y/N put a Halloween movie on while she scribbled out her general plan for the ritual. Between the campy noise of the film she had on and the tinkering sound of the piano from upstairs, Y/N began to feel ease slip into her body. The fact that the house was so full of life now was hard for Y/N to believe, even if it came with some difficulties so far, it felt so right. 

Just as she had finished the steps for her ritual, which she had planned to do the following morning at dawn, her phone pinged. Thinking it was one of the hybrids, Y/N fumbled for her phone tangled somewhere in her quilt, pushing wet hair out of her face. Humming in excitement upon realizing the message was from Alice, Y/N shut her movie off, scooching down further in bed. 

Alice Santos: facetime now okay?

Without responding, Y/N clicked the icon to call her, both excited to catch up with one of her closest friends and nervous to announce her adoptions of all the hybrids. She had a feeling Alice would be a bit more dramatic than Ben had been. The phone rang twice before Alice’s face appeared on the screen, squealing upon seeing Y/N. 

“Hold on, hold on. Before you say anything, I’m adding Laura to the call,” Alice’s raspy voice filled Y/N with warmth, her nails clacking against the screen as she searched for her twin sister’s contact. Y/N could hear Alice’s cat, Heathcliff, mewing loudly at her from his spot on the couch beside her. 

Seconds later, Laura, lovely as ever, popped onto the screen as well, sitting in a rocking chair with her son Kai on her lap. Both Y/N and Alice cooed at the boy, just shy of two years old, his chubby little cheeks smeared with a bit of applesauce Laura was trying to feed him. 

“I miss you guys so much!” Y/N whined, recalling the last time she saw both of them– a little over a month ago at Alice’s poetry book release party. 

Alice worked as an editor for a local paper, which often took up most of her time, up until she published her book. Now, she was busier than ever doing pop-up readings and working on her newest book, on top of the work from the paper. Y/N was extremely proud of Alice’s accomplishments; her dreams of becoming a successful writer as a kid started to come true right before her eyes. 

Similarly, Laura had her hands full with not only her two year old son, but the vlog channel she created after Kai’s birth to document motherhood with her husband Tyler as the faithful cameraman. The channel took off, thanks to Laura’s infectious sunshine personality and creativity, her videos featuring recipes, craft tutorials, and Q&A’s. 

“I miss you more, Y/N, how did the job exit go? Are you free finally?” Alice produced a bowl of ice cream from behind the phone camera, curling into a ball on her tiny couch to tuck into it. Alice, the more forward of the two twins, never liked how much Y/N’s job at the vet clinic had drained her. 

“My last day was Friday,” Y/N confirmed, pouting slightly. She had to admit, she felt guilty that she didn’t even miss working at the clinic yet, quickly chalking it up to how busy she had been with the hybrids over the weekend. 

“Thank the Lord for that,” Laura chimed in, bouncing a babbling Kai on her knee while adjusting his tight brown curls. “That place was sucking the life out of you, honey.”

“Hey, you’re doing the cookout this Friday, right? Ben texted me… what should I bring? I was going to make a sangria or something,” Alice pondered, giving Heathcliff a scratch under his chin. 

Discussing the details of the cookout for a few moments, she and the twins decided on what they’d bring, the conversation turning towards Ben and Roy’s adoption of Daisy pretty quickly. Y/N brought up her idea for introducing Kai to Daisy, which Laura was already onboard for. 

“I’ve been meaning to introduce Kai to hybrids for some time now. Children really seem to love them, and there’s so many hybrids in Boston these days,” Laura explained, tugging on the end of one of her collarbone-length twisted braids. Y/N sucked in her cheeks, nodding. Would now be the time to tell them about her hybrids?

“Y/N, by the way, when Ben texted me… he said you had news,” Alice raised a manicured eyebrow, setting her bowl down with a mischievous smile. Heart plummeting to her ass, Y/N cursed in betrayal. 

“Ugh! He can never keep his mouth shut, I swear!” Y/N groaned, shoving her face into a pillow in dismay. Her heart began to race, knowing that if the twins began to shout at her through the phone, the hybrids would hear every word. Her headphones were missing from her nightstand, so unfortunately there was nothing she could do if that possibility came to fruition. 

“So, what is it? Are you dating again?” Laura urged gently, getting up to put a sleepy Kai in his crib. 

“God, no. I, uh…” Y/N began, sweating profusely, “I adopted hybrids. Friday.”

Silence rang out on the other ends of the lines, Y/N biting her lip hard enough to draw some blood. And then, deafening chaos. 

“You WHAT?” Alice roared, spooking Heathcliff off of the couch and out of view. Cringing, Y/N watched Laura scramble out of Kai’s room to bolt into her own, shutting the door so she could join in on the yelling. 

“I thought hybrids weirded you out?! Y/N, what happened? Are you going through a quarter-life crisis?” Laura enunciated in an intense tone, looking like a stern school teacher. 

“Guys, please! They can probably hear you,” Y/N begged desperately, pulling her quilt over her head in an attempt to muffle the sounds coming from her phone. 

“How many? Y/N, I can’t even begin to articulate how insane this is for you. I mean seriously, are they kids? Do you have men living in your house right now?” Alice began to panic, running a hand through her bouncy curls in distress. Cringing, Y/N turned the volume on her phone down to the lowest possible setting, trying to ignore her bloody lip in the reflection of the camera. 

“Y/N. How many? You know what, fuck it. I’m coming over and canceling my reading tonight,” Alice continued after Y/N’s tense silence, the window showing her frantically getting off her couch to yank her car keys from the hook by her apartment door. 

“Alice, no–” Y/N yelped, bolting upright in bed as Laura joined in on the chaos. 

“Alice, relax! You can’t cancel that reading, your publisher’s going to be there,” Laura reminded her twin, her pretty face pinched in concern as she continued to tug on her braids anxiously. With a groan, Alice dropped her keys on the phone, giving Y/N a scathing look. Taking a deep breath, Y/N decided to give all of the details to prevent any more rash ideas. 

“There’s seven of them, and yeah, they’re men…” Y/N began in a shaky voice, trying to ignore Laura’s gasps of horror. “They’re really sweet, all of them, and I think things are going very well so far.”

“Yeah, until one decides to enter your bedroom in the middle of the night!” Alice interjected, shaking her head constantly. Blanching, Y/N coughed, wondering how the hell she was going to face the hybrids later that evening, God forbid they heard the conversation. 

“No, that’s not going to happen. I… trust them. Listen, they were all going to be sold to a hybrid hunter, and I just couldn’t bear the thoughts of what would happen to them after I saw them at the shelter. No one should have to live like that, running for their lives, an object of sport,” Y/N defended the hybrids, thinking about shutting herself into her closet to lessen the chances of Namjoon hearing her just a few feet down the hall. 

“Well, that’s all very valiant of you, Y/N, but let’s be real, here. They’re still men that you just met, living in your home!” Alice spat in a more hushed tone, as all of their yelling had woken Kai up even through the phone. 

“I hate to be a bummer, too, Y/N, but Alice is right. I’m really worried for you. Hybrids are very strong, and they still have animalistic instincts. You’re not used to being around hybrids, you’ve practically avoided them your entire life, apart from Keaon when we were little,” Laura added, trying her best to soothe Kai wailing from his crib. 

“God, what’s with people bringing up Keaon lately, I swear…” Y/N huffed, so aggravated that she was thinking of asking Jeongguk for a cigarette after she hung up. “I’ll be fine! I was a vet, remember, that has to count for something. And my parents already met them. There's the cookout on Friday, too, so you guys can meet them and make an assessment then.”

“Oh, so you want us to wait four more days for the cookout to feel out whether they’re creeps or not?” Alice deadpanned, Y/N yanking her hair at her roots. 

“C-creeps,” Y/N squeaked, tearing a bigger hole into her bloodied lip. 

“They might be! For all you know,” Alice replied, though her tone began to soften when realizing how upset Y/N was becoming. “Just please be careful, Y/N. You’re known to be too trusting.”

“Yeah, honey. We just want you to be safe,” Laura grit out, hefting Kai out of his crib and trying to juggle the phone while she pat his back. Y/N sighed raggedly, grateful for her caring friends, but quite sad that she seemed to be one of the only people so far to actually believe that the hybrids were non-threatening. 

“I’m safe, I promise,” Y/N murmured, gathering up her quilt to combat the chill she felt washing over her. The drafty window in her bathroom had to be tackled this week. Alice audibly cringed at Kai’s sobs, increasing in volume steadily. 

“I gotta go, my loves. I think he needs to be changed. Be safe, Y/N, and good luck tonight, Al,” Laura shifted Kai to sit on her hip, his tear-stained cheeks wobbling as he cried. 

“Shit. I should start prepping for my reading, too,” Alice began ruffling some papers off-screen, though Y/N could tell she was still unconvinced by the whole hybrid thing. 

“Call you guys on Thursday?” Y/N asked in a small voice, guilty that she had upset her friends. 

“Of course. We need regular status updates or I will come over there,” Alice threatened, the edge in her tone gone, however. She offered Y/N a half-smile, the three women exchanging “I love you”s before hanging up. 

Groaning as her phone hit the pillow beside her, Y/N ran a palm over her face tiredly. She strained her ears for a moment, trying to locate where the hybrids were in the house, but she was met with complete silence. Frowning, she decided there was no way she was going out there so soon after the messy phone call, pulling her laptop onto her chest and fumbling blindly for the thick envelope of adoption certificates she had received at the shelter that morning resting on the nightstand. 

The papers were weighty, a gold seal stamped over each one and the thick script of both her name and the hybrid’s name printed in stark black ink. Squinting, she searched for the ID number on the certificate she was holding– Yoongi’s, spotting it with an ah-ha at the bottom left corner of the paper. Excitement surrounding learning some new things about the hybrids, taking over the discomfort she was feeling over the phone call with her friends, Y/N brought up the hybrid database on her laptop, plugging the 9-digit ID for Yoongi into the appropriate search bar. The screen took a few moments to load, before a spreadsheet flashed onto the page. 

The first thing she noticed was an outdated picture of Yoongi, from probably about three years ago. His cheeks were filled out, and he looked a lot healthier, it dawning on Y/N that he now had dark circles under his green-brown eyes. Pouting at the picture, she recognized the second as him in his leopard form, the background most definitely of the shelter she had adopted him at. The rest of the spreadsheet had information. 

Yoongi, Min; panthera pardus. DOB 03/09/93. Place of Origin: unknown. Was illegally claimed without formal adoption by Boston, MA “The Black Lodge” bar and nightclub owner **** ******, along with hybrid’s mother of same species. Performed illegal hybrid labor since childhood at the place of business. Mother now deceased. Was turned into Gerry’s Hybrids by nightclub owner’s son upon his father’s death. THREAT LEVEL: 6/10 - HYBRID PHYSICALLY RESISTED APPREHENSION ONCE REPORTED, TWO AGENTS INJURED. 

Hand over her mouth as she read, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like her heart was breaking. Even with the small amount of information on Yoongi, it was deeply personal; she didn’t even know Yoongi had a mother, as the majority of hybrids were lab created. Anger rose up in her when she thought of Yoongi being kicked out of a place he had known all his life, saving the form to her computer and reluctantly moving to the next certificate at random. 

Jimin, Park; canis latrans. DOB 10/13/95. Place of Origin: Yellowstone National Park Hybrid Lab. Worked as ranch hand in the Yellowstone National Park from birth, up until 07/22 of the current calendar year. Abandoned position, and illegally crossed-country by bus, was found wandering streets of Boston, MA in a frantic manner. THREAT LEVEL: 6/10 - HYBRID HAS BEEN TRAINED IN SEVERAL FORMS OF SELF DEFENSE AND IS EXPERT IN SELF PRESERVATION, AS PER HIS PREVIOUS EMPLOYMENT TRAINING. EXHIBITS ANXIETY IN CLOSED SPACES. 

Eyebrows pulling together, Y/N examined the lovely picture of Jimin on the form, his smile just as blinding through the screen. He had on the hat that she had returned to him upon taking the hybrid’s previous belongings back from Gerry. Jimin, nor Yoongi, for that matter, seemed to strike her as a 6/10 “threat level”. Shaking her head, she figured that whoever wrote the spreadsheets were likely biased against hybrids in general, how ironic. Eagerly, she moved on – Hoseok’s sweet face filling her screen with an extremely old picture of him, perhaps during his adolescence.

Hoseok, Jung; vulpes vulpes. DOB 02/18/94. Place of Origin: Paris Hybrid Lab. Raised in labs internationally since birth. Transferred 24 times. Remained unadopted throughout, despite several possible adoptions that ultimately fell through. Has aged out of lab adoption centers by the time he had reached Boston, MA. Upon unsuccessfully meeting requirements for shelters in MA due to temperament, hybrid was brought to Gerry’s Hybrids. THREAT LEVEL: 5/10 - HYBRID KNOWN FOR DECEIT, CUNNINGNESS AND ATTEMPTED ESCAPE OF SEVERAL SHELTERS. HYBRID EXCELS IN ATHLETICS AND CAN SUCCESSFULLY OUTRUN PURSUERS. FLIGHT RISK.

Eyes bugging out at the “24 times” Hoseok had been moved around the world, from shelter to shelter, Y/N muttered a colorful cuss. It was no wonder Hoseok had been so weird when Jimin asked where he was from, Hoseok was seemingly from both everywhere and nowhere. 

Next, Y/N plugged in Taehyung’s ID number, thrumming her fingers against her laptop while the page loaded. Taehyung’s picture was extremely blurry, almost akin to a mugshot. Taehyung’s eyes looked vacant in the photo, Y/N shivering, then gasping when she saw how little information the form had. 

Taehyung, Kim; ursus arctos middendorffi. DOB 12/30/95. Place of Origin: unknown. Report called in anonymously that an unadopted hybrid had been hiding at a 24-HR cafe for several weeks in Boston, MA before the hybrid was dropped off at Gerry’s Hybrids. THREAT LEVEL: 8/10 - HYBRID EXTREMELY UNWILLING TO BE APPREHENDED, COMBATIVE. DUE TO SIZE OF THE HYBRID WHEN SHIFTED, HYBRID IS TO BE REGARDED WITH CAUTION. MULTIPLE INJURIES TO AGENTS UPON APPREHENSION. 

Frowning, Y/N was disappointed she couldn’t glean more information about the already elusive and enigmatic Taehyung. He had told her he was from Alaska, which was missing from the form. Other than that, all Y/N gained from his form was his whereabouts just before his adoption. Again, she wrote off his ‘threat level’ as an over exaggeration; Taehyung was so gentle.

Grasping Jeongguk’s certificate while twisting her mouth, Y/N waited to see his smug face show up on her laptop screen. Like Taehyung’s, Jeongguk’s picture looked like a mugshot, his serious expression making her snort a little into her palm. Part of her wished it was an older picture– she loved seeing Hoseok’s from youth. 

Jeongguk, Jeon; cervus canadensis. DOB 09/01/97. Place of Origin: Los Angeles Hybrid Suppliers. Raised with others of his species in the supplier lab, hybrid was noted as uncharacteristically aggressive compared to kin. Hybrid is known to have escaped from Los Angeles Hybrid Suppliers at age of 20 and has been at large since. Was caught by hybrid patrol in abandoned Steinert Hall (Boston, MA) with several thousand dollars worth of recording equipment and other oddities. Hybrid was promptly brought to Gerry’s Hybrids due to extremely volatile behavior during apprehension. THREAT LEVEL: 9/10 - HYBRID CONSIDERED HIGHLY DANGEROUS. WAS ARMED WITH WEAPONS AT THE TIME OF APPREHENSION, SKILLED AT FIGHTING, ERUPTIVE PERSONALITY. FLIGHT RISK. 

Y/N was rigid in her spot on her bed, not quite expecting so many brand new details into who Jeongguk was. Perhaps in her let-down of Taehyung’s report, she had expected Jeongguk’s to be similar. Biting her nails, she scanned his information again, wondering if everything she had read so far was overstated. While Jeongguk was certainly rude, he had yet to demonstrate dangerous behavior. Additionally, she had no idea what a supplier lab was.

Besides, what piqued her curiosity the most was not only his journey from Los Angeles to Boston, but how he was caught. Steinert Hall was an old piano concert hall in the heart of Boston that had been abandoned for years– he must have broken in– but why? Further, she wondered about the items he was caught with, recording equipment and “other oddities”. Was he filming a movie? The thought made her even more confused, and it was not like she could ask him yet. She had a feeling she’d be met with anger. 

The room began to get a little darker, late afternoon creeping up on her as she hurried to get through the last two hybrids. Setting the others aside carefully, she picked up Namjoon’s certificate, sliding a finger over his ID number. To her shock, barely anything showed up for Namjoon, not even a picture. 

Namjoon, Kim; canis lupus occidentalis. DOB 09/12/94. Place of Origin: unknown. Report called in that an unadopted hybrid was participating in a club illegally. Hybrid was apprehended in shifted form around the outskirts of Boston, MA, outside of a mobile home. Brought to Gerry’s Hybrids promptly due to shifted state and volitility. THREAT LEVEL: 10/10 - HIGHLY DANGEROUS. INJURED 6 AGENTS SERIOUSLY. BEHAVIOR IS EXTREMELY AGGRESSIVE. SUSPECTED TO BE RAISED IN WILDERNESS DUE TO BEHAVIOR. 

Swallowing hard, Y/N cast a look over towards her bedroom door, convinced that Namjoon could hear her thoughts as she read through his information. She had only interacted with Namjoon for only a few hours, and he didn’t seem as though he had been raised in the wilderness; Y/N just assumed he was slow to hand his trust over. Though– he injured six agents? This came as quite the surprise to Y/N, as she had naively thought that agents that brought in stray hybrids were trained to be cautious; however, she had come to a strong conclusion that the agents were likely people who provoke stray hybrids into aggression. Thinking once again about Yoongi, who was one of the most gentle of the hybrids so far, she couldn’t imagine him injuring somebody unwarranted. 

Heaving a great sigh, she plugged in Seokjin’s number before tucking all of the certificates safely back inside the envelope on her nightstand. To her sudden delight, a very old picture of Seokjin was attached to the page, estimating him to be about twelve in the photo. His cheeks were cutely rounded, though his expression was quite stoic. 

Seokjin, Kim; panthera onca. DOB: 12/04/92. Place of Origin: Milwaukee Hybrid Lab. Raised in a group of over 300 exotic hybrids to be sold to circuses and zoos. Hybrid was exemplary subject at lab, was sold to Cirque ******* at age of 22. Traveled and performed with the circus up until 08/13 of the current calendar year following incident at a show in Boston, MA resulting in hybrid injury. Hybrid was left at Gerry’s Hybrids, consequently. THREAT LEVEL: 6/10 - HYBRID DOES NOT HAVE A PAST OF AGGRESSIVE BEHAVIOR PRIOR TO INJURY. SUFFERS FROM EXTREME PTSD, ANXIETY AND PHOBIAS - IF TRIGGERED, HYBRID BECOMES ALARMED AND POSSIBLY DANGEROUS. FLIGHT RISK. 

Y/N felt nauseous reading about Seokjin’s past, wanting to hurl her laptop clear across the room. Sweet Seokjin, the one who didn’t mind when she grabbed his wrist to pull him along, the one who polished off the bacon that morning, had suffered such an abrupt abandonment recently. To learn that was how hybrids were treated by a company that was entrusted with his care, with such little regard to what happens to them after they are no longer “of use”, made Y/N sick to her stomach. All she wanted was to dash into Seokjin’s room to gather him up in a hug, recalling how feverish and dismayed he was the day he had arrived in the house. He had recovered remarkably well, considering, but Y/N still felt he’d have a long way to go before he truly recovered from the experience. 

Laying back in bed, desperately trying to process everything she’d read, her brain was a jumbled mess. Echoes of her friend’s valid concerns on whether or not she could handle the seven hybrids bounced around in her skull; and guilt crept into her body as she doubted whether or not she could. Of course, she would never consider bringing them back, abandoning them again, but she wanted them to live happy lives. Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if all of them would truly ever be comfortable around her, considering their past treatments. She worried that she wouldn’t be able to hide her anxiety from them that night, Yoongi’s conversation with her the previous night coming back to her once more. They’d be able to sniff out her nervous sweat from a mile away. 

The more she thought about her conversation with Yoongi, minor details came back to her. Namely, before they were interrupted, Yoongi had begun to talk about something called scenting. She never got around to asking him about it earlier that day, as he had promptly dashed up to the piano after returning from the shopping center. Curiously, she reached for her laptop she had pushed off her legs in disgust, googling “hybrid scenting” and clicking on a wiki page at random. 

Again, Y/N’s nausea returned. According to the article, hybrids, in order to properly bond with the humans that adopt them, must “scent” the human to feel secure. Hybrids are known to be possessive over the humans in their lives, particularly their adoptive human, and will initiate their scenting ritual once comfortable enough around the human. Scenting can happen often or rarely depending on hybrid type, predators are likely to scent more frequently, but it wasn’t an exact data collection. The actual ritual included a bite, one that drew blood from the human and in a location close to arteries (where scents are apparently “concentrated” to hybrids), before saliva from the hybrid soothes and “cauterizes” the wound. Feeling her stomach flip at the thought of any of the hybrids not only biting her, but then soothing the wound with a swipe of a tongue, was so overwhelming she had to shut her laptop and bolt out of bed. 

Cursing Yoongi internally for not disclosing scenting first, Y/N fanned her face frantically while she paced about the room. Should she bring it up to them? The thought was humiliating, but the article stated the longer the hybrids wait to scent their adoptive human, the more uncomfortable it gets for them. Apart from Yoongi, none of them even mentioned it yet, which was concerning to her. She knew that the shame fell on her, for not knowing basically a thing about hybrids in general. However, she still didn’t feel ready to bring it up over dinner. 

Yelping at the sound of a large thump coming from above her, Y/N slapped her palms over her face a few times to return the color back to her cheeks, her appearance in the full-length mirror positively scandalized. The sound of Jeongguk’s heavy stomping from back and forth into his bathroom made her spring into action, wanting to bolt into the kitchen and work on dinner so Yoongi wouldn’t have to. Casting one last look at herself in the mirror, feeling like she looked calm enough to bump into one of them without raising suspicion, Y/N slowly pushed her bedroom door open and peeked her head out. The hallway was empty. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N marched out into the hall, skipping past Namjoon’s door; unsurprisingly it swung open once she reached the end of the hall. Pausing, she looked over her shoulder, offering Namjoon a tiny smile as he poked his head out of the door. His silvery hair was damp and in his face, likely from the shower. She hadn’t even heard it turn on. Y/N waited for Namjoon to catch up with her, his expression hard to read once he was inches away. Finding it hard to look him in the eyes, Y/N resumed her route to the kitchen without a word, Namjoon hot on her heels. 

“Who was on the phone?” Namjoon demanded, a slight edge to his voice but the volume of it was not enough to frighten Y/N. Blowing hair out of her face, she knew Namjoon could hear her, but she could still pray the others hadn’t. 

“My friends from childhood, they’re twin sisters, Laura and Alice,” Y/N answered simply, not wanting to over explain. The kitchen was dim, Y/N flicking on all the lights and gesturing for Namjoon to sit on one of the barstools. Lifting a brow at her, Namjoon hesitantly sat down, Y/N trying to keep the mood light. At least he seemed to have cooled down from whatever ticked him off after getting ice cream. 

“They don’t like us. They think you’re in danger,” Namjoon leaned back on the barstool, arms crossed over his chest. Sighing, Y/N retrieved two wine glasses from the cabinet, pouring a healthy amount of Cabernet for the two of them and sliding the glass for Namjoon across the island. Eyebrow shooting up further into his hairline, Namjoon watched her take a hearty swig. 

“What do you want me to say, Namjoon? I made an uncharacteristic decision, and to be fair, you are all men. They have a right to be worried about me, no matter how unfounded it seems to you. It’s not that they don’t like you, either. I think if anything, they’re questioning my sanity,” Y/N stated calmly, finally mustering up the courage to stare at him directly in the eyes, leaning over the island. Taking another sip of wine, she waited for the wheels to turn in his head. 

“Do you think you’re in danger?” Namjoon continued to interrogate after a few moments, long fingers running up and down the stem of his wine glass. Humming, Y/N felt the red wine warm her belly, close enough to Namjoon to feel his breath fan over her face. 

“No. Should I?” Y/N countered, pushing herself off of the counter in search of something to scrounge up for dinner. She heard the scrape of glass across the granite island, peeking over her shoulder to catch Namjoon, eyes cast upwards mid-eyeroll, glass to his lips. 

Silent for a few moments, Y/N started to hum a tune suspiciously close to Smells Like Teen Spirit, rummaging through one of the lower cabinets for a rice cooker. Wondering just how much rice she’d have to make for eight people, she hefted the appliance and a 15 lb bag of sushi rice onto the counter beside the stove. Biting her lip, then wincing at the pain from the hole she had bitten into it earlier, Y/N estimated around 3.5 cups of uncooked rice in the pot, before bringing it to the sink to rinse it a few times. Pulling up the sleeves of her thermal, washed the rice until the water ran mostly clear. 

“I think you’d be a fool if you didn’t,” Namjoon suddenly pointed out, Y/N looking at him with surprise. His wine glass was empty, his eyes narrowed at her. Scoffing, she placed the pot of rice into the appliance, drying her hands on her sweatpants and switching on the rice cooker. Taking a deep breath, she painted a lopsided smile on her face, pouring Namjoon and herself a second glass. 

“Well, call me a fool then, for being optimistic,” Y/N muttered over the rim of her wine glass, Namjoon’s shoulders stiffening a fraction, his ear flickering. “Besides, the twins will be here for a cookout on Friday. If you’re still upset by then, you can talk it out with them. I think they’re scarier than you, Namjoon.”

“Please,” Namjoon snorted humorlessly, turning his head to drink from his glass. Shrugging, Y/N returned to the dinner making process, pulling vegetables, sauces, and a package of flank steak and the egg carton at random. She decided to make a bunch of things to stick in a rice bowl, and the hybrids could choose what they wanted. 

While rinsing some green onions, thankfully without any more questioning from the wolf hybrid brooding on the barstool across from her, Y/N heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. Perking up a little, perhaps hoping for someone to brighten up the mood, Y/N craned her neck towards the kitchen entrance. 

“Hey Seokjin! How are you doing?” Y/N grinned, pushing down the sadness that surfaced when she remembered the information she had just learned about him. Grinning back, Seokjin came up to her side, watching her chop the green onions, nodding once at Namjoon. “Wine?”

“Hmm, sure. I’m good, also. What are you making?” Seokjin cocked his head, putting his hand on her shoulder to reach a wine glass for himself when it was too high and far back for Y/N to get on her own. Shuddering at the sudden contact, Y/N hurriedly poured him a glass of the Cabernet, returning to the vegetable prep. 

“I’m making some vegetables, some beef, maybe a few fried eggs… figured we can just make our own rice bowls with ingredients you like,” Y/N explained, slicing through a bell pepper. Seokjin leaned his hip against the counter beside her, watching carefully. 

“What happened to your lip? Are you okay?” Seokjin asked, a strong current of concern in his voice. Absently brushing her fingers by her lip, but not touching the skin, Y/N tried to shoot him a comforting look. 

“Oh I’m fine, don’t worry about me! I just bit it too hard. Happens all the time,” Y/N waved her hand, sliding the sliced peppers into a bowl with the flat of her knife. Seokjin grunted softly, apparently unconvinced, eyeing Namjoon distrustfully. The jaguar hybrid moved to sit on a barstool as well, a few away from Namjoon, settling in to watch her cook. 

“Hoseok made me do “yoga” with him,” Seokjin informed her, his lips curling around the apparently unfamiliar word, making air quotes simultaneously. Using her elbow to wipe a stray tear from her eye chopping an onion, Y/N giggled picturing the two hybrids meditating side-by-side. 

“Really? I love yoga, though I haven’t done it in a while…” Y/N tried to subtly monitor the two hybrids sitting across from her in case of an incident, Namjoon leaning his body across the island to help himself to more wine. Finding the bottle empty, he heaved a sigh, getting to his feet. 

He was easily able to find the wine cooler, carefully reading each label before selecting the same brand the three of them had been drinking, Seokjin and Y/N exchanging surprised looks. Namjoon used a sharp thumbnail to slice open the foil covering the cork on the bottle, frowning once he realized the bottle wasn’t open completely. He began opening drawers at random, likely searching for the opener, Y/N eyeing him while she began stir-frying some of the vegetables. Each time he came up empty-handed, his ears drooped further, looking almost adorable. 

“Need some help?” Came Yoongi’s gruff voice suddenly, pretty much materializing from the entrance to the kitchen from the parlor. Already feeling the wine dizzying up her head, she was grateful for any help at all to finish dinner. Making a small noise of delight, Y/N nodded, and Yoongi immediately began to assess the marinades and flank steak she had brought out from the fridge, using a rubber band from his wrist to tie up his long locks. Y/N made a mental note to dig up her bag of scrunchies to offer him later that night. 

While Yoongi and Seokjin began to chit-chat about the jaguar hybrid’s yoga experience, Namjoon had successfully located the bottle opener in the drawer beside where Y/N was stir-frying, aggressively trying to jam the corkscrew into the cork with gritted teeth. He definitely didn’t know how to use it. Taking pity on him, and more or less wanting a fresh glass of wine for herself, Y/N set her wooden spoon down, holding her palm out for the corkscrew. 

“Here, let me, honey,” Y/N stepped to the side, taking the wine opener from the wolf hybrid’s slackened grip, his entire body locking up at the sound of the pet name. Internally, she scolded herself as heat crept up her neck, but it was hard to resist the term of endearment when he looked so cute when he was frustrated. Hopefully, he wasn’t insulted. “It’s tricky, I’ll show you how my dad taught me.”

She briefly explained the steps, pulling up the cork halfway, before stepping away once more and talking him through the last step. Y/N could have sworn his ears, the human set adorned with simple silver hoops, turned a faint shade of pink, but she also could have imagined it. Namjoon muttered a thanks, swiftly refilling her glass for her, before dashing away a bit clumsily back to his own seat. Chuckling, she took a sip of her wine and returned to the frying pan, her elbow brushing Yoongi’s as he began both cooking the steak and making what appeared to be tamagoyaki in a second rectangle pan she didn’t even know she owned. Damn, she thought, he works fast. 

“Can I try some of that?” Yoongi jutted his chin towards her wine glass while he reached for the salt pinch bowl, his tail brushing the back of her knee with the movement. Wordlessly, she passed her glass over, Yoongi grinning slyly as he took a delicate sip. A low hum of enjoyment came from the back of his throat, Y/N hurriedly cracking some pepper into her frying pan to cover up her fluster. 

“Want a glass?” Y/N cleared her throat, Yoongi taking another sip and raising his eyebrows at her. 

“No, we can just share this one,” Yoongi chuckled, setting the wine glass on his side of the counter with a clink. Eyes bugging out of her skull, Y/N squeaked out an “okay”, trying her best to focus on finishing up her part of the meal prepping. Yoongi seemed to enjoy her reaction to his words, snickering every few seconds as he rolled up the tamagoyaki with a pair of chopsticks. 

“You had an interesting phone call, huh?” Yoongi passed her the wine glass after several moments, Y/N reeling as she was snapped out of eavesdropping on Seokjin’s attempts to initiate conversation with Namjoon. 

“Shit. Did everyone hear it?” Y/N hissed, after almost choking on her mouthful of wine. “You were upstairs, for Christ’s sake, weren’t you?” 

“Yeah, we did. And yes, I was,” Yoongi answered playfully, covering his completed steak dish and moving to slice the tamagoyaki. “I mean, your friends weren’t exactly speaking softly.”

“No, they weren’t,” Y/N agreed mournfully, wondering if the remaining hybrids had their feelings hurt, due to their absences. Currently, it was the longest she had gone without seeing Taehyung, other than when she was sleeping, since she brought him home. “Next time I’ll wear headphones,” she added determinedly. 

“Mmm… that might help. Might not. Super hearing, remember?” Yoongi pointed to one of his spotted ears, a teasing lilt to his voice. Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, abandoning him by the stove to check on the rice. Muttering to herself, Y/N turned to the island with a rice paddle, wishing Yoongi hadn’t stolen her wine glass for the time being. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a third person sitting at the island beside Seokjin, swirling a whiskey glass in his hand.

“Oh! Didn’t hear you come in, Jimin!” Y/N exclaimed, catching the coyote hybrid’s attention at once. Flashing one of his beautiful smiles, Y/N relaxed a fraction. Jimin was so polite, even if he had heard Laura and Alice over the phone, Y/N hardly expected him to say anything about it. “You guys have a knack for sneaking up on me.”

“Darling Y/N, it’s not our fault you have plain old human ears,” Hoseok’s voice suddenly came from her left, making her flinch so hard she dropped the rice paddle on the floor. Gritting her teeth, she turned to scold him for being mean, his face apologetic as he bent to get the rice paddle for her. He was dressed in a set of pajamas, with his new slippers on, freshly showered; grinning at her as he extended the rice paddle out to her. “Whoops, sorry. Forgot you were clumsy, too.”

“Hoseok!” Seokjin barked from his seat at the island, corners of his lips turned downwards in disapproval. Hoseok made that strange whistle tone Y/N was becoming increasingly familiar with, his expression becoming uneasy once his chocolatey eyes landed on Namjoon sitting at the end of the island. “Knock it off,” Seokjin ordered. 

“Relax, Jinnie, I’m only teasing,” Hoseok replied, his voice a little strained as he patted Y/N on the back. Grimacing, she went back to fluffing up the rice in the cooker, Yoongi shooing Hoseok over to the breakfast nook by handing him the platter of sliced tamagoyaki. Starting to feel a bit sweaty, the red wine coursing through her with a vengeance, Y/N polished off her shared glass of wine much to Yoongi’s dismay. 

Y/N snuck a look at Namjoon, who had turned his head to stare at Hoseok with mild interest. Namjoon’s cheeks were pink with the alcohol, and a majority of his steeliness had softened. Absently, Y/N found herself pouring him a glass of water from the fridge door dispenser, sliding it across the island to the wolf hybrid while Seokjin continued to scold Hoseok from his seat. 

Her and Yoongi worked quickly to place everything on the breakfast nook, Y/N feeling quite tipsy suddenly as she found herself giggling at everything that came out of Yoongi and Seokjin’s mouths. Vaguely, she heard Yoongi ask her if she could call upstairs for Taehyung and Jeongguk, obediently following his direction and slightly swaying her way to the foyer. The loud voices of the hybrids from the kitchen had her practically squealing like an idiot, so pleased that she wasn’t alone in that big house anymore. Upon reaching the banister of the stairs, Y/N gripped one of the carved balusters with clammy hands. 

“Jeongguk, Taehyung! Dinner is ready,” Y/N shouted up the stairs, probably more loudly than necessary. Humming to herself, she caught an image of her reflection in the hallway mirror, her cheeks flushed and eyes a bit squinted. Two sets of footsteps bounded down the wooden staircase rapidly. Without wasting a second, Jeongguk flew right by her, head turned to look at her suspiciously as he passed. Pouting at his frame retreating into the kitchen, she turned back to Taehyung, who was leaning over the banister she was gripping, staring at her curiously. 

“Were you drinking wine?” Taehyung cocked his head, a ghost of a smile across his lips as he leaned in close to her. Both overwhelmed and overjoyed to see him, Y/N nodded enthusiastically. 

“Did you find the record player, Tae?” Y/N asked eagerly, wanting to push a stray curl out of his face to see his pretty garnet-colored eyes better. She didn’t even register the nickname for him that had easily fallen from her lips, but Taehyung certainly did. 

“Tae?” His deep voice rumbled with amusement, leaning even closer to her, Y/N widened her eyes, practically able to count his eyelashes. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. 

“Y-yeah, sorry, it just sort of fell out,” Y/N spoke nervously, barely above a whisper due to his proximity. Taehyung shook his head, chuckling, his curls brushing her forehead with the moment. 

“No, I like it,” Taehyung quickly assured her, pulling away from her personal space and descending the remaining stairs. “Let’s go, Jimin is wondering where you are.”

Trying to catch her breath, Y/N turned to gaze into the kitchen, noticing Jimin heading to the foyer with his whiskey glass in his hand, a quizzical expression on his face. Hurrying after Taehyung, who kept shooting her mirthful glances, Y/N swore under her breath. Those hybrids were definitely trying to mess with her, she concluded, stumbling over her own feet to catch up with Taehyung’s long strides. 

Thankfully, when she felt herself nearly toppling over by the coffee bar, Jimin caught her by her elbow, tutting in disapproval with a touch of merriment in his eyes. Sheepishly, she let him steady her, feeling like she was being herded as he walked behind her with both hands around her upper arms to steer her towards the breakfast nook. Waving Jimin off, embarrassed, Y/N slid into the booth next to Hoseok. Jimin, snickering, returned to his barstool beside Seokjin. 

“You should take it easy with that red,” Hoseok murmured into her ear, scooching his own glass further away from her when she surreptitiously tried to sneak a sip. “One of us is going to have to scrape you off the floor.”

“No you won’t. I can drink,” Y/N insisted, slightly offended. She stuck out her lower lip at the fox hybrid, who appeared to be trying not to laugh at her. Muttering something like “mean fox”, Y/N begrudgingly took a gulp from a glass of water that had somehow appeared in front of her as if by magic. 

“Sure,” Hoseok hummed, accepting two bowls of rice from Yoongi, ferrying them back and forth to everyone in the kitchen. Hoseok set a bowl gently in front of Y/N, his arm pressing into her’s with how close she had sat next to him. 

As she was piling on some vegetables into her bowl, a couple of the hybrids leaned across the breakfast nook to add an ingredient to their own dishes before returning to a barstool. Unfortunately, not all of them could fit in the breakfast nook, Taehyung across from her, Jeongguk squeezed in between the Kodiak hybrid and Hoseok. Munching on a piece of tamagoyaki, Y/N flinched when she felt the empty space beside her fill up clumsily by Namjoon, who had inelegantly toppled into the booth with his bowl. Surprised, Y/N pressed closer to Hoseok, trying to free up more space for Namjoon’s large frame. Namjoon must have been more tipsy than she thought, barely even noticing Taehyung scowling at him from across the table. In fact, Namjoon seemed completely relaxed for once, his cheeks full of rice and meat as he ate. 

“Ugh,” Hoseok groaned lowly, blood in his face draining as he pushed food around in his bowl with his chopsticks. Y/N patted his back soothingly, hoping he’d be able to push past his fear of Namjoon enough to eat. Especially considering Namjoon had rice stuck to his face, he wasn’t exactly threatening at the moment. 

“The tamagoyaki is delicious, Yoongi!” Y/N called over to the island, the leopard hybrid’s ears immediately perking up. Looking over his shoulder, he smirked at her, holding up a stir-fried pepper with his chopsticks. 

“Good job with the vegetables, yourself,” he returned, his sharp incisors flashing as he took a bite of the pepper. 

Luckily, the meal passed by amicably. Taehyung had worked up the courage to start a conversation with Hoseok, likely due to noticing the fox hybrid’s discomfort with Namjoon’s presence. As always, Jeongguk mostly kept to himself, but very visibly enjoyed the contents of his meal, even asking Yoongi for more rice. Y/N eased off of Hoseok a bit, his skin far too warm for her to comfortably lean against for a second longer, forcing her to be pressed closer to Namjoon. Thankfully, he seemed to be running a bit cooler than the fox hybrid, the fabric of his thermal soft against Y/N’s forearms. At the contact with her body heat, Namjoon jumped a little, his hand knocking over Y/N’s empty water glass. 

“Whoops! Good thing it’s empty,” Y/N giggled, righting the glass and peering at Namjoon’s startled face. He was staring at where their arms touched, tongue peaking out to catch some steak sauce on his lower lip. Making eye contact with her, Namjoon actually chuckled over his minor blunder, to Y/N’s delight. 

“Is this your first time drinking, or something, wolf?” Jeongguk suddenly accused, eyebrows lifted as he witnessed Y/N and Namjoon drunkenly giggling at nothing. Y/N frowned, hoping that he wasn’t about to sour another evening. Namjoon stopped laughing, setting his chopsticks down in a wobbly manner. 

“Yeah, actually,” Namjoon answered, Y/N’s eyes bugging out of her skull while Jeongguk pounded on his chest, a mouthful of rice going down the wrong way at the wolf hybrid’s response. 

“Wait, seriously?” Y/N gasped, a hand over her mouth in surprise. Namjoon nodded somberly, his lips pursed. Hoseok, quietly, tugged Y/N sweatpant leg, giving her a disbelieving look and mouthing what the fuck. 

“Yes, seriously. I didn’t really have many… opportunities to drink alcohol in my life,” Namjoon explained, eyes narrowing at Taehyung from across the table. Taehyung looked unimpressed with the conversation, sipping on his own glass of wine silently. 

“Jesus. I should have asked before liquoring you up earlier,” Y/N rubbed the back of her neck, swearing to herself to try and make more healthy choices as far as food and beverages go for the hybrids. Hoseok snorted next to her, draining his wine glass less shakily than he had before. At least he was loosening up, and she counted it as progress. 

“It’s alright. I knew what it was when you poured it, I could have refused,” Namjoon sighed, a small smile across his face as he pushed his empty rice bowl away. Glancing sideways at Jeongguk, Y/N watched him try to bite back laughter, crumpling up his napkin into his bowl.

Stirring ingredients into her bowl, Y/N tried her best to finish everything in it. Yoongi was truly an amazing chef, the seasonings on the steak were perfect and paired very well with the sweetness of the tamagoyaki. She could definitely get used to his cooking, thinking that he could even help her out with some of the food for the cookout on Friday. Additionally, she had the piano lesson with him on that day, the thought making her squirm in her seat with excitement.  

At the island, upon checking on the other three hybrids from her spot at the breakfast nook, it appeared that Yoongi and Seokjin were fighting over the last bit of steak. After a few moments of bickering, Seokjin reluctantly placed the piece of meat in Yoongi’s bowl, to Y/N’s relief. Jimin had finished his meal, and was by the fridge putting ingredients back in their places. 

After asking Namjoon to scooch out of the booth so she could help with clean-up, Y/N had to resist helping him get his footing, not wanting to push her luck with him that night. He caught himself on the frame of the door to the patio, Y/N truly amazed just how friendly he got with just a few glasses of wine. She wondered if in the morning, he would go back to being steely and interrogative. Hoseok, leaping out of his seat, immediately put distance between himself and the wolf hybrid, traipsing over to Jimin to chat. 

Moving to the island, she asked Seokjin if he ate enough while he bashfully nodded, not a speck of food left in his bowl. In fact, they had no leftovers, Y/N realized as she collected serving dishes, trying to be as balanced as possible so Hoseok wouldn’t accuse her of being a lightweight again. Squeezing past Yoongi at the sink, she deposited the dirty dishes beside him, searching for the granite cleaner. However, she didn’t get very far in her pursuit to clean up. 

“Hey! You two cooked, we can clean,” Jimin suddenly complained, pulling Yoongi away from the sink. “Miss Y/N, you should sit down, before you injure yourself,” he added calmly, snapping his fingers and pointing at her while shooting Seokjin a look. 

Opening her mouth to protest, she felt herself getting dragged away by the jaguar hybrid, who promptly lifted her off of her feet and planted her on a barstool. Squeaking when Seokjin wrapped his hands around her waist to lift her, Y/N felt torn that his hands were gone as quickly as they were there. Face on fire, she watched Jimin push Yoongi onto the seat next to her, the leopard hybrid rolling his eyes and instructing the coyote hybrid to not use steel wool on the ceramics. 

Forced to watch Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung tidy up the kitchen, Y/N drummed her fingers against the granite of the island, craning her neck to locate Jeongguk and Namjoon. The wolf hybrid, to her surprise, was viewing a video that Jeongguk was playing on his phone over the elk hybrid’s shoulder, his eyebrows pulled together in thought. Jeongguk, very quietly, was murmuring something urgently to Namjoon. Y/N wondered if hell froze over, or if she should go to the liquor store the following morning to pick up more cases of that particular Cabernet. 

Taehyung, returning an unused bag of edamame to the freezer, pulled out a popsicle for himself, leaning on the island beside her to enjoy it while Jimin and Hoseok finished the cleaning. Seokjin, who had excused himself to the bathroom five minutes prior, returned with the ends of his bangs wet, like he had splashed water on his face. 

“Taehyung, where did you get that? I want one too,” Hoseok whined, eyes zeroing on the frozen treat in his hands. Taehyung pointed to the freezer drawer with the treat, Hoseok scoffing. “Thanks, real specific,” He mumbled, rummaging through the freezer to locate one of the mango popsicles. 

Seokjin, wiping down the breakfast nook, began humming a tune, the timbre of his voice sweet, though the song was quite melancholy. Y/N gazed at him over her shoulder, catching the bittersweet smile on his face while he hummed. Sighing, Y/N settled into the barstool, enjoying the sounds of everyone’s voices as they bantered. Her eyelids felt heavy, her palm leaning on her cheek, her brain yelling at her to stay awake to enjoy more time with her companions. 

After a few moments, her eyes snapped open, an eerie silence filling the room. She registered Jimin, across from her at the sink, his eyes trained at the threshold of the kitchen and his ears perked up in alert. Blinking, she noticed Hoseok was locked up rigidly in the same manner, opening her mouth to ask what was wrong. Swiftly, she was cut off. 

From upstairs came a large thump, Y/N’s blood running cold. Yoongi, from beside her, wrapped a hand around her wrist, putting a finger to his lips when she looked at him in panic. Silent again, for a moment, she strained her ears the best she could, her heart racing. Was there an intruder in the house? Or worse, was the paranormal situation escalating before she could tell them about it? 

Breaking the silence came the sound of the record player in the piano room crackling to life, the sounds of an old jazz record floating down the stairs hauntingly. Feeling the room grow several degrees cooler, Y/N began to hyperventilate, totally unprepared for the night to take a horror-movie turn. Squeezing her wrist in an attempt to soothe, Yoongi gave her a pleading look. In addition to the record player going off on its own, several pitchy notes on the piano began to ring out periodically. Nausea welling up inside her, Y/N began to shake, praying to the sky an apparition wouldn’t appear in front of everyone. She had not the faintest idea of how to handle the situation, let alone correct it, in her current state. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Hoseok spoke first, baring his teeth and gazing towards the stairs. Jeongguk, who had moved away from Namjoon in the commotion, ran a hand through his hair in stress. He began to chuckle humorlessly, locking eyes with Y/N. 

“There’s a fucking spirit on the grounds, and now it’s inside,” Jeongguk pulled out the silver amulet from his pocket, turning it over between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve been trying to exorcize the house since I got here.”

“What?” Y/N breathed, feeling faint and overwhelmed. Yoongi moved to rub her back soothingly, but not much could be done to calm her down. She was already seeing spots of darkness in her vision. 

“It’s malevolent. It’s been following you around since you were a girl,” Jeongguk added distractedly, rolling up his sleeves, revealing tattoos that Y/N realized seemed to be made up of religious symbols from several cultures. With that, he squared his shoulders, exiting the kitchen and bounding up the stairs with determined confidence. 

“Jeongguk, don’t go up there!” Y/N cried, stumbling out of Yoongi’s embrace and fleeing after the elk hybrid. Between the shouts from the rest of the hybrids in the kitchen and the increased lack of oxygen she wasn’t getting, as soon as she reached the foyer, Y/N felt her body hit the marble before she felt nothing more. 

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00

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#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #hybrid au #bts ot7 x y/n #bts hybrid au #bts fic #bts au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid fanfic #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic

[silverynight]

Nothing romantic about it

"I want to spend the day with you. Today."

Izuku feels for a moment that there's something important he's missing but doesn't think too much about it because he's distracted by the way Katsuki looks from the floor to him. He's flustered, but Izuku doesn't know why, he doesn't have to be... They've spent a lot of days together now that they're friends again.

However, Izuku doesn't think too much about it.

"Of course, Kacchan!" Why not? He loves spending time with him. Always. Why would today be different?

It's like some sort of weight vanished from Katsuki's shoulders, because he suddenly looks happy, more confident and almost relieved. He grins before shoving a red box with a ribbon in Izuku's hands.

"Get ready for the best day of your life, nerd! I'll see you in the common room in an hour!" He smirks before going away.

Izuku takes the lid off the box and realizes that it's filled with homemade chocolates. He squeaks in delight before taking one and biting into it; of course it's delicious, he makes a mental note to thank Katsuki.

Later, after walking in the common room and seeing all the pink and red decorations in it, Izuku finally realizes what he was missing: It's Valentine's day.

Does Katsuki know it? Maybe he doesn't and just asked to spend time with Izuku like it's any other day, or maybe he knows and he just wants to be with him because they're friends. Because Izuku is aware this day is not only about romantic relationships...

Suddenly the chocolates make sense now. Worried, Izuku decides to buy a couple later for his friends. He can't believe he completely forgot about it.

"Deku-kun, we're going to watch a movie! Do you want to come?"

"I'd love to, but I promised Kacchan I'd spend the day with him."

"Oh, I see..." Uraraka grins and Izuku realizes too late what that knowing smile means...

"No, it's not like that!"

Uraraka keeps grinning even though Izuku tries to explain to her there's nothing romantic about it. It doesn't help his case that Katsuki walks in then and takes Izuku's hand before pulling him away from her.

"Come on, nerd, we have a lot to do!"

It seems Katsuki had planned all of that a while ago because he already has a permission for the both of them to go outside.

They go to the shopping center; Izuku is excited and walks in every store that has All Might themed stuff inside. Katsuki buys him an All Might watch that makes him so happy he can't help but pull Katsuki into his arms.

Katsuki doesn't let go of his hand unless is extremely necessary and Izuku, despite getting a little bit flustered because of it, gets used to Katsuki's warm palm against his.

When they stop to eat a crepe, Izuku realizes that the place is full of... couples. It's only natural of course, it's Valentine's day but it makes Izuku wonder what the people around think about them...

It doesn't matter anyway, because they're just hanging out as friends.

Actually, the only thing that matters is that Katsuki seems to be enjoying himself quite a lot. Izuku has never seen him smiling so much in a while.

They go back to the UA and their friends convince them to stay in the common room and watch a couple of romcoms with them. Oddly enough, Katsuki doesn't complain too much, he sits on the couch next to Izuku and puts an arm around his shoulders.

Izuku gets flustered for a moment, before he convinces himself that it's nothing to worry about and just eventually relaxes into Katsuki's personal space. He even falls asleep for a couple of minutes before waking up and finding Katsuki looking fondly at him.

They're alone, but the movie is still playing on the screen.

"You look tired, nerd."

"Yeah... Uhh..." Izuku can't hold back the blush that spreads from his cheeks towards his neck in seconds. "I think I should go to my room now, it's late."

Katsuki just nods but he leans even closer to him.

"Happy Valentine's, Izuku," he whispers before pressing a soft kiss against the green bean's lips. "Come on, I'll take you to your room."

Izuku blinks, his mind is completely empty or perhaps full of the memory of Katsuki's lips on his and can't even bring himself to say anything coherent. He doesn't even protest when Katsuki takes him in his arms and nuzzles against his cheek while he walks towards Izuku's dorm.

So... It seems he had the wrong idea about what actually happened that day. But Izuku is too flustered to talk about it with Katsuki, but he'll speak to him in the morning.

He has to, because it seems he has a boyfriend now.

***

Patreon

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya

[mastermindmiko]

My name

Pairing: Sirius Black + fem!reader

word count: 4417

Summary: You're James sister, and you like Sirius. He constantly flirts with you, but at the end of the night, he ends up with another girl. How much can either of you take before your feelings are out?

Warnings: kissing, pranks, poor Emma

Requests are open

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

an: I've obsessed with the Sirius + James' sister thing

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"That's part of the fun." He says while we listen closely to anything that might be ongoing outside. I hear no footsteps, and I sigh deeply. I lean against the wall of the cramped broom closet in relief.

"I told you we'd get caught." I say, frustrated that I let him talk me into doing this. He grins and says, "I never said that we wouldn't be caught, I said that it would be fun and it was."

"For you maybe, I was terrified." I huffed, and Sirius continued to grin. He leans closer to my face and teases, "That's because you're a goody two shoes."

"Excuse me for caring about my education and not wanting to get detention." I retort, pushing his face away with my finger. Why did he always have to flirt like this?

Two sharp knocks echo on the door, but neither of us replies, fearing that it was a teacher. Seconds later, we hear a voice say, "You two better not be snogging in there."

I open the door, sighing, "No, James. We were just hiding from Filch."

Remus and Peter are standing beside James while Remus wiggles his eyebrows at me, but I shoot him down with a stern look. Sirius wraps his arm around my waist, and I smack it away. He says, "Would it be such a bad thing, love?"

"Yes." James replies before I could giving his best friend a look that could send him six feet under. Sirius panics, he had seemingly forgot that we weren't alone, so he couldn't pester me.

"How was it?" I ask, hoping to diffuse the situation, James looked like he was about to pounce. James laughs, and his mood uplifts in a moment. He exclaims, "It was brilliant, you should've seen it. The whole place was red!"

The prank, they had transformed the Slytherin common room red, and while I don't particularly support pranks, I was hoping for a night of fun after the torture that was last weeks quizzes.

"And their faces!" Peter said, which reminded James of the prank once more, and he burst our laughing. They continued to chat in loud voices as if they didn't know that we're well passed curfew.

I feel a hand slither around my waist midway to the way to the Gryffindor common room, and I look at Sirius pointedly while he had a smug look on his face. I push his hand away and go step beside Remus instead.

When we're there, I quickly head to the dorms to get a well-deserved good night's sleep.

A normal person would assume that Sirius Black was head over heels in love with me, but that couldn't be farther away from the truth for a multitude of reasons. He valued his friendship with James far too much than to mess it up by being with his sister. I wasn't his type, Sirius likes girls who are nothing like me.

The most important reason was that Sirius doesn't do relationships. He likes flirting, he likes the chase, he likes the sex, the relationship aspect of all that, not so much. He jumped from one girl to the next, typically in the span of the week, and I'd be damned if I was one of those girls.

***

"Go with me." Sirius suggests as soon as he plops down beside me for breakfast. I pause in the middle of lifting a spoon up to my mouth. I frown, "What?"

"The party, the Christmas party." He says, like it's obvious. Slughorns party for the members of the slugclub. I wasn't particularly brilliant when it came to potions, so I wasn't a part of the club, Sirius, however, was.

I don't reply straight away. It was odd. He always flirted, but he never asked me to with him anywhere, never actually asked me out on a date. I hesitantly ask, "As a date?"

James sits down in between both of us and asks intrusively, "Date? What date?"

"Not a date, date, but technically, she's the person I want to take to the Christmas party." Sirius stutters, and James purses his lips. James says, "No."

"James, you're not the boss of me. I make my own decisions." I say, sternly, but James rolls his eyes. Sirius perks up from behind him, and I turn him down, "That doesn't mean that I'll go with you."

He deflates while James perks up. They both start eating food together. They grab the same things at the same time and eat at exactly the same pace. It's freaky how in sync they are. They're the greatest best friends I've ever seen, doesn't Sirius know how this fake flirting thing could jeopardise it?

***

I stare back at my reflection at my mirror. I tilt my head to the side as I analyse which pair of heels would look best with my dress. Lily chimes in, "Black."

"Are you crazy? Red 100%" Alice and Lily bicker, and I chuckle, "You guys aren't making this decision any easier, really."

"You should come." I say, looking at them. They both opted to stay in the dorm studying rather than attending the party which both of them were invited to. Lily shakes her head, "It's too late now. We don't have dates."

"You could go with each other who cares about having dates, and besides, my brother would drop everything to be your date." I try to convince her, sick of hearing my brother talk about her for an entire summer again.

"I thought we agreed that your brother is an off-limits subject." Lily humms, and I lift my hands up in surrender. I look back at the mirror, then hold up the black heels. I say, "we have a winner."

Alice huffs, and I laugh at her reaction while Lily claps victoriously. I bid them goodbye and walked down the stairs to the common room where my brother and his friends were waiting for me.

"You look beautiful." Remus says as soon as he sees me, opting James and Sirius to turn to look at me. James smiles, "I don't know what you're talking about moony. That's the ugliest rat I've ever seen."

I poke my tongue out at him, annoyed, and Remus holds out his arm for me to take. He says, "Thanks again for agreeing to come with me."

"You don't need to thank me, Remus. We're friends." I reply with a smile. Remus wanted to attend the party, but didn't want to go through the hassle of finding a date, so he asked me.

"I know, I'm just sure that I wasn't your first choice when it comes to dates. You might've wanted to go with someone else." Remus says, and I finally look at the boy who was my first choice.

He had his hair looking perfect as always, and he had on an elegant that fitted him perfectly in every way, and he an odd look on his face than prompted me to say, "Are you okay, Sirius?"

He doesn't reply, but he gulps loudly. His eyes trail down my body slowly, and it makes me feel self-conscious. He snaps his eyes back to mine and he says, "Wow...you look stunning."

I blush a deep shade of red, and I look away from him. This was different from how he usually flirts. It felt like there were actually some emotions behind those words.

"Hey! Mate, stop drooling all over my sister, and let's go." James says, snapping his fingers in front of Sirius' face. Sirius replies, "But she's not here yet."

"Who?" Peter asks

"My date." Sirius says, and he rubs his face with both his hands. He mumbles, "I just can't remember her name..."

Just like that, all the positive feelings were gone because all I could think of was me someday bring that girl whose name he couldn't remember. I snap, "You shouldn't invite a girl out on a date if you can't remember her name."

"I-"

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you." A girl says as she walks down the dorm stairs and goes to Sirius. She goes to hug Sirius, pressing a kiss on her cheek, and when she can't see his face, he sends a panicked look to Remus.

Remus rolls his eyes, but when the girl backs away from the hug, he puts his hand in front of him and says, "Hello, I'm Remus."

"I'm Emma." She replies, shaking his hand with a smile. I offer my name and so do the rest of us. Sirius' shoulders drop from relief and he says, "Well, now that Emma's here, we should really get going."

I roll my eyes, and James snorts from beside Sirius. We start walking towards the party, and I mumble under my breath, "When is he going to grow up?"

"When are you going to admit your blatant feelings for him?" Remus whispers right next to my ear, and I flush. I snap my head towards him and snap, "Could you blame me for not wanting to? He couldn't remember the name of the girl he was taking on a date!"

Remus shrugs his shoulders and I know that he's convinced. I see the door to the party and feel Remus say something to me, "But the girl he's taking isn't the girl he likes."

"Bold of you to assume that he has the ability to have feelings for someone." I say, and as much as it hurts me to process the fact, I know that it's true. Remus counters, "Well, no someone has ever been you."

"I know that Sirius is your friend and everything, but you really need to screw your head on better." I snort, and give a fake smile that surely looks just like it is. The room is filled with music, and people are dancing all over the dance floor. I can hear Professor Slughorn's loud voice all the way from here.

Sirius already whisks Emma away to dance and her giggling echoes through the room. I realize that maybe coming to the party wasn't one of my best decisions. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and James says, "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I reply and James says, "It's really no use of lying to your brother."

"Come on, I know what'll cheer you up." James says, and he grabs my hand and drags me to a table, and I drag Remus along with me. James sits down and he pulls out a deck of Muggle cards and starts shuffling them. James smirks, "So, what are we betting on?"

Remus gives James a disapproving look, but sits down. I pick the seat that makes me unable to see Sirius. We start playing and mid-way through our third game, I pause and say, "Isn't this sort of...weird? We're at a party and we're playing cards."

"We're at a party a teacher hosted, we're not exactly the coolest right now either." James retorts and hands Remus all of his 3s, and Remus grins. James laughs and he looks at something behind me. He says, "Looks like our Padfoot has already scored."

I don't bother looking behind me, I already know what's happening. It's been happening every year since 3rd year. I sigh, and press my lips tightly together. Remus places a sympathetic hand on my thigh and I give him an appreciative smile.

"I think I'm gonna go..." I stand up and start to put my things back into my purse, leaving my cards on the table. I run a hand through my hair and say, "I forgot that I've got a Muggle studies quiz tomorrow."

"But we don't have-" James begins, but I've already turn and made my way to the door. The door slams unintentionally behind me, but I know that it doesn't matter, the noise of the chatter and music drowning it out.

I can't believe that I let this happen, and I can believe that I'm hurt and surprised every time it does happen. I feel straw tear fall from my eye, and I wipe it away. It doesn't help that I hear him jogging after me, and saying, "Hey! You left-"

He stands in front of me and places both his hands on my shoulders. He stops me from walking, and I barely have time to put my hand down before he notices my red eyes. He pauses before whispering, "Were you crying?"

"No, allergies." I say, before stepping away from him and trying to keep on going back to the dorms. He stops me again, and he says, "You can tell me."

"No, go back to the party, you're date's waiting." I snap, and try to walk away, but I get forced back into place. I try to move away with more force, but it shots me back harder. I almost fall, if it wasn't for Sirius who stabilized me.

I begrudgingly looked up, and dreaded what I found. A mistletoe, hanging from the archway that we were both under. I rub my hand frustrated over my face, and say, "I'll remember the spell that I'll get us out of this, wait..."

I huff as the spell completely escapes my mind. I try to think harder to one of the charms books I read with Remus a few years ago. Sirius squeezes my waist, and I didn't even realize that he had his hand there. He says, "We can just-"

"No! I'll remember." I say, sternly and push his hand off my waist. He waits patiently and I get more and more frustrated at my weak memory. I snap my fingers as I try to remember, "I read it at the table near the window, in the library...with Remus, in fourth year..."

"Fourth year! You can't remember that." Sirius says, incredulously. I have to admit, it was ridiculous that I believed that I'd be able to remember a spell I once read, three years ago, but I couldn't kiss Sirius. I huff, "I will."

"We'd sooner die, than you'd remember that spell."

"Just wait." I say, as my eyes scan everything around me, trying to remember that stupid spell. Sirius places his hand on my chin, and makes me look into his eyes, the most beautiful mix of grey and blue that I've ever seen. He whispers, "Is kissing me really that bad an option?"

No, it's not, it really isn't, but I can just imagine how it would go. I'd kiss him, I'd get all those fluttery feelings in my stomach, and I wouldn't be able to stop kissing him because finally it's happening. Sirius would keep kissing me until neither of us could anymore. I'd fall in love all over again.

Then, the next morning, he'd act like nothing happened. I'd go to breakfast and find him sitting next to some girl that he's going to be giving all his attention to for the next week with his arm around her shoulder. I would die inside and be miserable until he'd break up with this girl, and I would believe that it's finally my turn, but then he'd find another girl instead.

I'd be even more miserable until I got over him which is unlikely or when he realized that I should be his girlfriend not a fling a girlfriend, which is even more unlikely, and so yes, my answer is yes. I say just that, "Yes, it would, now stop pestering me, so I can think."

"Love, you're never going to remember it."

"Yes, I will." I snap back at him, and he seals his mouth shut. At last, a moment of peace. I try to think, but it wasn't coming to me at all. I tried to think of alternative spells, and I was grateful that Sirius decided to stay calm.

At least I thought so, until he places his fingers on my chin once more, and quickly tries to kiss me. Panicked, I yell, "Bombarda!"

I point my want to the ceiling and the archway, comes crashing down along with the mistletoe, the spell breaks and we escape before the archway falls over us. In hindsight, this wasn't one of my brightest ideas.

"Are you crazy?" Sirius shouts, and he's right, but no way I'm going to tell him that. I look away from the pile of rubble, and brush off the dirt from my dress, and say, "I got us out, didn't I?"

"You almost squished us." Sirius complains and I roll my eyes. He continues, "And you destroyed a piece of the castle."

"As if Dumbledore can't rebuild it, besides, you've done more damage to the school." I say, and Sirius runs a hand through his perfect hair, making it the slightest bit messy. He says, "That's not the point. You were willing to almost kill us both than have me kiss you. Do I have bad breath or something?"

"Did you forget that you were going to kiss someone other than your date tonight?" I say, trying to remain calm, while Sirius keeps on getting more heated up. Sirius replies, "It's not like I'm cheating or something, she's just a date!"

Exactly my point, she's just a date, he couldn't even remember her name, but he still kissed her, and who knows what they'll be doing tonight. I add, "Did you forget that you're going to be kissing your best friend's sister?"

"It's just because of the mistletoe- James would've killed me, I know, but you're not just his sister, you're more than that." Sirius says, and he looks down at the ground, and I feel my heart rate pick up, despite not wanting it to. He adds, "You're my friend too."

The feeling's gone. I scoff, and leave.

***

The next day was more chaotic than last night. I'm sitting at breakfast, trying to convince James that I'm alright because of the way I abruptly left the party last night, while also trying to apologize to Remus for also leaving him abruptly last night.

"I promise you it's fine." Remus

"Unlike you, last night." James

"I swear to Merlin, James. If you don't shut up, I will murder you, and Remus, are you sure there isn't any way I can't make it up to you." I say, turning to Remus, voice switching from stern to soft. Remus slips up, "I'm sure you've suffered enough for your mistakes."

"Suffered? What does he mean?" James interrupts, and I pause. I knew what Remus meant, I heard it, he heard it, the entirety of Gryffindor tower heard it, it being Sirius and Emma having fun this morning in some sort of hidden part of the tower.

Echoes of laughter are heard through the Great Hall, and we all turn to see, Sirius walking in with neon yellow hair. James bursts out laughing, and Peter joins him. I try to hide my snickers behind my hand, while Remus smiles. Sirius huffs and sits next to James, opposite to me.

"What happened, mate?" James asks, trying to contain his laughter. The great hall soon quiets down, and everyone goes back to their own lives. Sirius doesn't say anything as he begrudgingly stuffs his mouth with bread.

No one says, anything but James and Remus try to figure out spells to return Sirius' hair color back to normal. James says, "I'll just use a counter-jinx-"

"That wouldn't work because we need to know the jinx that caused it." Remus explains, and he turns to ask Sirius, "Did you hear the jinx?"

Sirius shakes his head, and I notice him avoiding looking at me. James suggests, "If you tell us who did this, we'll just force it out of them."

Sirius shakes his head again, and we notice Emma walking in shooting glares at Sirius. Remus whispers, "Did something happen with Emma?"

Sirius grumbles something under his breath, and proceeds to stuff his mouth full of food again. James exclaims, "What happened?"

"I-uh..." Sirius trials off, and James chuckles. He slaps Sirius' back and jokes, "What? Did you forget her name again?"

The boys laugh at the idea, but they stop when the notice that Sirius isn't laughing with them and instead turn bright pink. Peter gasps, "You didn't."

"I didn't." Sirius defends quickly, but then sinks back in his chair. He purses his lips, and Remus inquires, "What did you do?"

An angry Hufflepuff comes marching behind Sirius, and tugs on his hair. He yelps and turns around to look at the red-faced girl. She shouts at him, "If you're going to try to sleep with my best friend, then have the decency to say her name."

She shoots me a glare, and then walks away back to the Hufflepuff table where Emma has a sorrow look on her face. Sirius sinks further back into his chair, and Remus exclaims, "You called her the wrong name!"

"It was an accident okay?" Sirius defends himself, and I find myself confused why the girl would glare at me instead of Sirius, unless...no way! No way! He wouldn't...would he? Sirius avoiding looking at me, her glaring at me, it all adds up! I flush a deep shade of red at the thought.

"Who's name did you say?" James asks, and Sirius starts to stutter. He grabs a piece of bread and shoves it in his mouth, and motions to it, as if to say that he can't reply at the moment. He chews very slowly, and the bell rings, signifying that there's only five minutes left till class.

Remus stands up and hauls Peter and James with him. Sirius begrudgingly stands up, trying to ignore the pack of Hufflepuff girls shooting him glares. The great hall's nearly empty by the time, I grab Sirius' hand to stop him from leaving.

The action catches my brother's eye, and I say, "We'll meet you there."

James looks at us both skeptically, but Remus grabs him by the collar, and pulls him towards class, along with Peter. Remus has had years of experience and knows that this is the only way to get the boys to class. James shouts behind his back to us, "If you're late, I'll come find you."

"Ow, ow, ow, Moony." James exclaims, as Remus grabs his ear and tries to stop him from staying behind with us. Once they're an appropriate distance away, Sirius asks, "What is it?"

"First...let me." I say, before bringing out my want from my belt loop and waving it over his hair, turning it back to the perfect jet black color that it was. He grins, pulling some of the strands over his eyes, to see the familiar shade of black. He says, "Thank you-"

"Why did you do that?" I interrupt him, exasperated. Sirius turns red, taken aback, and he avoids looking at me again. He stutters, "What are you talking about?"

By now my assumptions have been confirmed, and I feel my heart rate pick up as I say, "You said my name, why did you say my name?"

"I thought, I've been obvious, I like you." Sirius says, seeing no use in denying it, and running a hand through his hair. I bite the insides of my cheek and sigh, "No, you don't."

"I do, a lot." Sirius says, and he takes a step closer to me, the same step that I take back, pushing me to the wall. I say, "You just want me because you can't have me, but once you do, you'll lose interest."

He shakes his head, and he purses his lips before saying, "It's not like that-"

"If you really like me, why were you with those girls?" I ask, and I'm afraid of the answer. I fiddle with my fingers anxiously, and he says, "Trying to get over you."

He takes my hand in his, and I sigh. For so long, this is what I've wanted, he's the one that I like. I look into his eyes for any signs of anything other than sincerity, but there weren't any.

He leans to try to kiss me, but I stop him with a finger on his lips. I take in a shaky breath and say, "If you do this...If you kiss me, I want you to mean it. I want you to kiss me because you like me, not because you're bored or because you want to sleep with me. I can't be just another notch on your belt, I-I'm in this if you are, but if you're not then stop now..."

I trail off, and look back into his eyes, to find him looking at me with an expression I can't place. Butterflies shoot up and down my stomach. I expect him to leave, to turn around and head to class, but he doesn't.

He presses his lips to mine, and I let out a soft gasp. He holds me tightly to his chest, and he grasps at my waist. He kisses me once, twice and a couple more times. He doesn't stop until, he can't breathe anymore. He rests his forehead to mine and I pant, "You kissed me."

"I did" Sirius replies, and he smiles. I can't help, but grin myself. He holds me tighter, and I find myself smiling even wider. I say, "James is gonna kill you."

"I know." He shudders and I see the panicked look behind those grey eyes. I worry that it's going to stop him from being with me. Maybe he didn't even mean to kiss me, maybe he tripped. I ask, "And that doesn't deter you at all?"

"It does" He replies, and I feel myself getting anxious. Sirius values his friendship with James above anything else, they were brothers. I know that he'd be terrified to put it in jeopardy. I add, "Does it scare you?"

"Yes" He says, and I purse my lips before tentatively asking, "Then why aren't you backing away?"

"Because I can't really think about James murdering me when I really want to kiss you." He says, and I smile, maybe he didn't trip. I ask, "Again?"

"Multiple times, yes" He teases, and I smile. It's me who leans forward this time to capture his lips onto mine. He's grinning against my lips, making a proper kiss impossible to achieve. He pushes me against the wall, and keeps kissing me till all the oxygen is out of my lungs.

"GET OFF OF MY SISTER, BLACK!"

#harrypotterimagine #hogwarts #harry potter #harrypotter #fanfiction #fluff #gryffindor #the maruaders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #harry potter marauders #marauders era #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders #marauders imagine #siriusblackimagine #sirius black #sirius black angst #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #sirius black headcanon #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #young sirius black #siriusblack #sirius x reader #sirius x you

[loupy-mongoose]

Unfortunately I'm still struggling with this funk I'm in. I keep having moments where I get excited about something, and then suddenly I'm just not feeling it anymore. (I suspect it's partly because of "that time of the month".) It's frustrating. >m<

But I was able to complete some special non-drawing artworks that I can share!

If, uh... anyone remembers me mentioning a sewing project I started however long ago that was, I finally got around to finishing that! ...And then immediately dove into another one. XD (I know I said I'd make a post about the process--I still hope to do that someday. Although now it's at least three posts worth of info lol.)

Soooooo... Here's the subject of that project!

This is the little critter that will be my plush Aneira! (Randy and Akoya's far-future daughter, for those who don't know or forgot.)

I tried to give her a slightly shorter left foot, to match her canon design, but the foot that ended up shorter was the right one. Sooo... I maaaay change that in-story as well. X3

But my follow-up project is something more special to me.

I wasn't satisfied when I set the two custom Mews up with the one I had bought specifically to be Randy.

So... I made him too. :3

And then I got a silly little idea.

I let them hold hands~

Every new plushie I make beats out the previous one as my favorite work of art, and Randy is no exception. I'm super proud of how he turned out, and happy to have him and let him cuddle with his beloved IRL! <3

Oh, and I also made a little necklace for Akoya with some beads I found at work.

She's purtty now. :3

#Pokemon #Mew #I don't remember if I had any special tags for previous plushie posts lol #Linden Roots #beeb

[rea-grimm]

His clothes - Luffy, Sanji, Zoro

Dragon Luffy

It's okay if you want to borrow some of his stuff, but don't be surprised if he wants to borrow something of yours.

His hat is one of his treasures and he is just as careful about it.

You are always waiting for opportunities when you can borrow his hat without problems.

Luffy was sitting in his favourite spot on the bow of the ship when a strong wind blew his hat off his head - you managed to catch it - Luffy was right next to you and wanted to take it from you when you put it on your head.

"That's my hat," he said, tilting his head to the side.

"Can I borrow it for a moment?" you asked him sweetly, smiling at him. The way you laughed in his hat, he couldn't say no.

"Just for a while," he finally said, but you had to sit with him on the bow of the ship - he sat behind you, hugging you around the waist - that's how he could have you with his hat.

Corpse groom cook Sanji

He doesn't mind if you want to wear something of his because he thinks you look cute in his stuff and will be happy to buy you something to wear in the next town.

Sanji still has a ring with him that he is saving for his bride-to-be, which he has on display on his desk.

You didn't go to his room for a while when you noticed the ring, it immediately caught your attention and you had to try it on - the silver ring fit you like a glove.

Suddenly there was a scream on the deck, you ran there and completely forgot about the ring.

When things calmed down on board you decided to go help Sanji in the kitchen, he was always happy when you were there with him.

You were cooking together when Sanji noticed the ring and his cigarette almost fell out of his mouth.

At first, he'll think you're engaged to someone else, and he'll fall to his knees, that was a blow he didn't expect, he wants to know who stole you from him.

He takes your hand to beg you to change your mind when he notices it's his ring.

Instant change of mood, he has hearts in his eyes “That ring suits you so much!”, he's going to ask for your hand in marriage.

Either you accept it or reject him, it's up to you - if you reject him, expect a valley of tears - then you have to calm him down, which will make him happy because you care for him.

ely promise him that you won't marry him right away, but only later - this will give him the hope he needs and bet that he will start looking for the best ring in the next city.

Tiger Zoro

He has no problem lending you a coat when you're cold, but his pride must not suffer.

Sometimes you steal his chat when Zoro is sleeping and you're bored - you steal his coat, put a bandanna on your head and try his fighting poses with your weapons.

Zoro wakes up to the sound of laughter - still sleepy he finds himself being imitated in front of the others, he is startled when he notices that you have nothing on under his coat - he was instantly on his feet.

"End of the show," he said and he walked behind you and hugged you from behind with his hands covering your chest (even though you  didn't have anything on underneath you had everything under control)

“I'd like this as a private show,” he growled into your ear and you felt your cheeks flush as you knew full well what he meant as his tail wrapped around your leg.

Sanji Masterlist

Zoro Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #dragon luffy #tiger zoro #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #undead sanji #sanji x reader #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #Monster Piece