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paeries · 7 months

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Sick Of You III — h.s.

[when a boyfriend of two years breaks it off and offers a new arrangement, of course you’ll take it up. this is your prime chance to prove him wrong. and Harry can’t bear to watch it]

[part one is here, part two is here, and i just wanted to say thank you thank you thank you for all the love you’ve shown. this one took a loonnngggg time to hash out because I wanted to give it a good realistic feel to the argument, bc y/n fucked up badddd. so, that being said, i'm hoping i was able to deliver and i really hope you enjoy it xxx]

wc; 13.3k

pairing; harry x reader

cw; friends to lovers au, brief smut, annggsssttttt, harry tears, lots of arguing, drinking, smoking, swearing ALOT of it, we’re not exactly y/n’s biggest fans

pov; y/n, but third person

[pssst…. you can find my masterlist here]

“There y’go, sweet girl.” Harry panted out, his hands cupped under her ass as she rocked back and forth on his cock, the tip practically smushed against her g-spot. “Tha’ feel good?” He hummed, as she buried her face in his neck, her hands gripping tight at his shoulders for leverage. She nodded quickly, gasping out a weak ‘Yes!’ before whimpering against the crook of his neck. “So full, Harry.” She hiccuped and Harry’s head fell back, Y/N taking the opportunity to litter kisses anywhere she could at the newly uncovered area. His hands came up to smooth along her back, one hand finding the soft ends of her hair, his fingers twirling the strands around each digit. He’d learned long ago about how she’d coo and preen into his touch. He had moved his head back to watch her do just that, and watch the goosebumps skirt up her arms. “All mine, dove.” He had hummed against her skin. “Tell me.” He begged, sliding an arm around her waist to lift her up a bit, his hips rocking up into her. He heard her gasp, whine, whimper, everything but what he really wanted to hear. “Tell me, Y/N. Please, tell me you’re mine.” He asked again, peppering kisses across her chest. Just as he found her nipple beginning to suck gently, as he knew would get her to say what he wanted to hear, a lower voice from the corner began to laugh.

“Go on, tell him.”

Harry’s head snapped up, ignoring Y/N’s cries as she came, her hips still rocking against him with her head thrown back.

Mark was standing by the door.

•••

Harry’s eyes flew open, sitting up immediately before scanning the room for his clock that he must’ve kicked to the floor in his sleep. 4:16am. He groaned, his hands reaching up to rub his face before laying back down. Maybe I can stare at the ceiling some more and fall asleep?

“Tell him.” Harry audibly scowled, pulling the pillow over his head. He couldn’t even find peace in his sleep, his own brain won’t let him get the girl while he’s unconscious. Ridiculous, really. At this point, he’d rather just scrap the whole day and try again tomorrow. He didn’t feel like moving. Didn’t feel like sitting up and he didn’t feel like stretching his aching limbs. He certainly didn't feel like pulling his curtains back to let the daylight in, definitely didn’t feel like getting in the shower, didn’t feel like tidying up his living room from the night before, he didn’t feel like doing anything but lay down.

So he did. With the T.V. on whatever was already channelled in, he laid in his bed and let his thoughts drift. If he looked out to the aforementioned curtain covered window, he wondered if it was going to rain, since the sun should’ve begun coming up by now. It had to have been covered in clouds, a perfect start to a shitty morning evidently. He dared look back at the clock. What had felt like it had at least been ten minutes, in fact was a little of an hour had gone by. So, with his throat scratchy, his eyes raw, his head pounding, and feeling like shit, he pushed himself up to trudge into the bathroom despite his lack of motivation. Start with a shower, he thought to himself, as he brought a heavy hand to the knobs before stepping under the water.

Usually, he would let his mind wander. Sometimes long enough for his hands to find his cock, tugging till he found his relief under the water. Now? He shuts his eyes, focusing instead on the feel of the hot water pelting at his skin. If only he could put it all off until tomorrow and stop existing only for the day. He was well aware that the minute he’d let the reins go, his thoughts would return to her.

Yet, Harry suddenly can't seem to catch his breath in the shower, the inevitable tears slipping past his cheeks as hard choking sobs wracked through his body, his forehead resting against the ceramic tiles. Nothing could stop whatever noise clawed its way from his gut and out of his mouth when he thought about the night before. He wasn’t even sure why this time was so much worse than all the others.

Was it because he felt like the end was near? That his efforts paid off, or that it was looking like he’d come out on top after all? That all signs were pointing to yes? Not, watch out for the rug that's about to be ripped away from under your feet? Or was it how stupid he never thought she’d have been to throw away what was obviously the right kind of love? That she'd be so blinded to deny it?

You shouldn’t think like that, it’s not like you don’t love her anymore.

Finally stepping out of the shower, he grabbed whatever clothes his hands found from his drawers and began down the hallway to the kitchen. As Harry brewed himself a cup of coffee, he scrolled through his phone for unanswered texts or calls, even updating himself on the news. Again, anything that allowed his mind to venture away from her. Sure there were things that always reminded him of her but he did his best to steer clear as best he could.

While he waited for the machine to finish, he glanced over his living spaces. Nothing too terrible. There were some empty pizza boxes on the kitchen island (he later learned that someone was kind enough to put the last unopened box of pizza in his fridge along with the drinks), and the chairs were a bit haphazard and the couch was covered in crumbs and pillows. This really shouldn’t take too long to tidy up.

About an hour passed, and Harry had gotten through his second cup of coffee, feeling somewhat better and more alert. At least enough to get the day done and over with. So Harry, after looking at the state of his neglected garden from the window, decided to dip into the closet for his broom to start there. The area hadn’t been used since the summer, and with the snowier months on the way, he thought he’d better tidy it now so it wasn’t so atrocious come next springtime.

By the time he finished and stepped back inside the heated walls, a knock came from his front door. Dread ran through his blood, as he stared at it before hurriedly opening the door, immediate relief rippling through his body when Daphne was revealed to have been standing at the other side.

“Hey, Daph.” He sighed, his head tilted in confusion afterwards. “S’quite early, isn’t it? Why’re you up?” He asked but Daphne shook her head, and he noticed she looked quite frazzled. “Nevermind that, y’busy?” She asked hurriedly. “Not exactly, but,” Harry started before Daphne was pushing past him into his house. “Come on in, I guess.” He muttered, shutting the door to follow her. “Are you cleaning?” She asked immediately and Harry’s eyes widened. He wasn’t exactly awake just enough to have prepared himself for company. “Not deeply, just tidying.” He replied, eyeing her carefully. He couldn’t tell what was wrong with her. She wasn’t as put together as usual. Honestly, she looked quite dishevelled. “Good. I’ll help you.” She answered, going to grab a trash bag to collect the empty beer cans and bottles. Harry waited a second, feeling his confusion grow deeper before grabbing a bag as well.

They cleaned in silence for a while before Daphne, who was now holding paper towels and some sort of spray to wipe the counters. “Y’sleep okay?” She finally asked and Harry straightened up. “Slept fine.” He answered quickly, hoping that was the last question. (Somehow, he wasn’t convinced.)

Silence again, apart from the occasional spraying sound from her surface cleaner. “Because, y’never came back out after you got sick.” Daphne pried again, and Harry let out a loud exhale. “I’m fine, Daphne.” He reiterated, looking at her sternly. He reaaallllyyy did not want to talk about it, especially with Daphne. She had barely paused, still wiping down the tables or setting glasses in the sink. “It’s just that, I-I’m having a hard time believing you, Harry. I know how you get.” She began again and Harry groaned, his head tipping back. “Daphne. I’m fine. S’alright.” He said again, staring at the ceiling as silence filled the room again.

Thank Go—

“What’d y’mean, s’alright, Harry?” Daphne shouted suddenly, her eyebrows furrowed at him in some form of disbelief. Surely, he’s joking, she thought. “It’s not alright, you get that, yeah?” She huffed, shaking her head at him. “That, that, what she’s doing, is, is- She’s stringing you along! I-It’s nasty, it’s cruel!” Her voice climbing higher and higher, until she was shouting.

“Enough, already! Alright? I know what it is, Daphne! But, you popping up out of nowhere at six a.m. and throwing it in my face at volume 10 isn’t helping things either!” Harry snapped, pausing from picking up the pizza boxes and glasses strewn about the coffee table. “I don’t need you to tell me any of this shit, I can handle m’self, thanks.” As much as he tried not to, he took one look at her and guilt rushed over him. “M’sorry, for yelling. I’m just,” He sighed, setting the garbage bag down to free his hands. “I’m trying to get my mind off it, so, it’s just not something that I really want to talk about. I appreciate your concern, I do. But, I think I just want to be alone.” Daphne chewed at the inside of her lip as she listened to him, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t come here to pry. I just wanted to check in.” She finally uttered out, going to finish tidying in the kitchen. “I’m at least going to help you finish first.” She said adamantly. And Harry let out a sigh of relief. That, he could manage. “Thank you, Daph, really.” He reiterated, grateful for the help and now silent company.

By the time Y/N left Jodie’s and arrived at Harry’s, she found that his car was running in the driveway, and his front door seemed to be cracked open by a smidge.

Where was he headed off to? Should I go?

Before another thought could form in her brain, Harry came out in what looked like a hurry, stopping briefly at the sight of her before bounding right past her to the boot of his car.

She stayed still while chewing at the inside of her lip, watching as Harry wrapped up six or seven bags in his arms. Without much acknowledgement, he slid past her again to get in the door. “Would you take the keys out of the ignition for me, this is the last of it.” He grumbled as he passed her. “Sure-,” She sighed, opening his driver door to pull the keys out, the engine shutting down immediately.

After making what felt like a walk of shame to the front door, she froze upon entering. Harry was busying himself with getting the groceries put away, walking back and forth between the bags on the kitchen floor to the fridge or cupboards. Harry was determined not to show her how upset he really was. He wanted to give her the same treatment he had been experiencing from her. Besides the fact, that he was terrified he’d start crying the minute he got a good look at her.

“How have y’been?” He asked, barely taking a glance at her as she shut the door behind her. Just focus on the groceries and the house, he thought to himself. Chairs were still every which way, and Harry had relieved Daphne of her duties about an hour earlier once she finished mopping, so he could manage to pop out to the store and grab some groceries for the week. Organising his apartment, unfortunately, took a brief back corner.

Y/N had stepped in, cautious to watch him as he moved over his apartment. “Have t’say that I’ve felt better.” She mumbled, choosing to stay in the entryway and out of his way. “That so?” Harry replied, his jaw clenching. It was clear that she wasn’t going to let it blow past another day. He decided to prepare himself for the second argument of the day.

“Yeah, um, Harry?” She said hurriedly, wringing her hands together to try and work up the nerve. Harry sighed, ducking his head in the fridge to keep himself busy. “Yeah,” He said dejectedly. There’s no running from it now.

“I wanted to apologise for leaving everyone in the dark last night.” There it was. Harry felt his teeth begin to grind against one another, and he turned to collect some of the emptied reusable bags amongst the others to put them away for his next trip. He hated the plastic bags.

Maybe we could distract ourselves with our thoughts long enough to tune her out?

“It was a rough night, and,” she paused for a moment, “Clearly, I had had a major lapse in judgement.” He feels like his blood's boiling a degree or so higher with every word coming out of her mouth.

He clears his throat, “It’s fine, Y/N.” Can’t you take a hint?

“But it’s not fine, and,” She goes on, but Harry isn’t listening. He knows she's still talking and he’s fully tuned out, but he can’t stomach this much longer. He knew what she was saying without even listening. It was always some excuse, or half-assed ‘Sorry’. So, trying everything he could to cut her off, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” he griped, hoping that was enough to let her know to back off. What was everyone’s deal? Wanting to talk about it? When did everybody start caring about it?

“Harry, I’m sorry,” She began again, “you’re clearly angry, so just let me,” Harry’s loud groan interrupted her again as he lifted a hand to stop her, “Just stop, yeah?! Sorry?” He spat, “Sorry’s not good enough! You can’t just say- M’tired,” He seethed, “Of hearing how sorry you are. This time, sorry won’t fix it. S’just too soon.” His long legs carried him to the living room to bring a chair back to the kitchen table along with a few wine glasses to sit in the sink, desperate to find something to busy himself with. Anything to avoid this exact argument.

“Wow, y’sound like Daphne.” She muttered, and what meant to sound like a lighthearted joke to lighten the mood, now sounded bitter and demeaning as she now understood, shutting her eyes tight when she saw his head snap back to her. “What?” He asked carefully, taking a few steps in her direction. “What did you just say?” She’d never seen him so angry, taking a few steps backwards as well. “I-I- I didn’t mean,” She stuttered, chewing at her lip when her back met the front door. “Cos’ t’me? Sounded like you had somethin’ snippy to say, and I’d say that you’re in no place to make petty remarks. Especially, when asking me to forgive you all while you stand there, mottled with bruises and hickeys from him.” He spat, shaking his head at her. “How stupid do you think I am?” His head tilted at her, finally backing up to continue unpacking the bags from the store in the kitchen, even laughing as he did. “Hilarious.” He laughed out, glancing back at her before laughing again as he dug through the groceries.

“I-I don’t- think you’re stupid, that’s,” she sighed, starting again with a concentrated breath, “I know you’re angry. And, I know that I deserve to hear it.”

It made his head spin. The same way it always did when he would put his argument aside and give in. Harry could feel his blood bubbling with anger, with hurt, sadness, all of it coming to a head. Before he could do anything to stop it; he turned around again.

“No, what you deserve is each other.” He spat, immediately regretting the words the minute they came out. He knew it sounded morose and beneath him. But he wouldn’t take it back. He was angry, he is angry. Her eyes went wide, opening her mouth before closing it shortly after taking a few steps towards him again. “I-I,” She began again and he watched as her eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursed as her eyes danced around the floor before continuing, “You used me! I can’t continue to be the backup, Y/N! That’s all I am! When he doesn't want you, I’m suddenly good enough. Do I matter that little to you?” He felt like he was gasping for air, suffocating slowly and desperate for relief.

She stopped in her tracks, “Of course not, Harry. You know how I feel about you.” She couldn’t think of a time when Harry didn’t matter to her. So her confusion, trying to understand where everything went so wrong, left her at a loss. How she couldn’t see when it went wrong. If she had just talked to Jodie months ago, would they be standing at arms with one another? She’s never seen Harry like this before, ever. The normally cool, calm, collected and goofy Harry, was now hard-eyed, rigid, and cold. Hurt.

Harry scoffed, narrowing his eyes at her. “When?! When have I ever known how you feel about me? When was I something other than your plan b?!” He spat after turning back around, angrily putting cans in the cupboard and throwing frozen vegetables in the freezer. “Worst part is that I fucking knew what was going to happen at breakfast that morning! I knew it!” She thought she was hearing things, but she swore she could hear a choked whimper in his voice. Y/N pursed her lips, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t believe this, Harry. Everytime he cancelled on me, I called you. Anytime he said or did something wrong, I wanted your company. It wasn’t about the sex.”

Harry felt like throwing a full-blown tantrum as he turned around, his eyes widening. “Jesus, so what? Y’telling me I ought to be grateful then?” He quipped, staring at her.

“Of course not! I’m trying to say that I always wanted you around. And that, maybe sometimes, I was happy Mark would cancel.” She explained but Harry wasn’t buying it. “You’re something fucking else, y’know that? ‘Maybe sometimes?’ Fuckin’..” He huffed, deciding to leave it there as he went back to rinsing the wine glasses in the sink. “It’s my fault, I should've got out sooner. My bad.” He spat, leering at her over his shoulder.

“Why did you stay then?!” She yelled, her eyes boring into his back, her frustration reaching its peak. “If there were a million reasons to stop like you make it out to be, why did you stay?!” Harry rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on now. Don’t be daft.” He huffed, shutting the water off to turn to her again, drying his hands on the hand towel over his shoulder. “No, seriously! Why?!”

His eyes met hers, searching hers to try to figure out if she was being serious or not. If she was making some cruel point. “Do you really want to know?!” “Yes!” She breathed, throwing her arms in the air exasperatedly. “Do you?! You’re sure?!” “Jesus, Yes, Harry. I want to know!”

“I,” He paused for a moment to collect himself, “M’- I am in love with you.” He managed in one exhale, his body taut and tense as he looked at her.

Silence for a moment, In love? “Harr-”

“There is no ‘I think’ or ‘maybe’ or ‘could I be’, I am in love with you.” He was breathing heavily now, and deeply thankful she was keeping her distance because he was sure he’d have bursted into tears by now. “If I were Mark, I’d have married you by Month 3.” He practically growled, pained by the comparison. Harry knew full well Mark would never be a quarter of the man he was. “Unfortunately, I haven’t got the money, as we all know, but, I like to think I do well enough on my own.” He was breathing heavily, staring at her fiercely. That was a low one to hurl but he couldn’t stop himself. A full year of his misery, and now she had to make him tell her like this?

“The money?!” She was glaring now, her hands finally settling on the island counter opposite him. “I don’t give a fuck about the money, Harry. I never have, and y’know that. My mother introduced us because she knows his family. Just so happened, I fucking fell in love with him!” Harry rolled his eyes and it only fueled her on. “Right, shocking. As if you’d know what love was if it had landed in your lap.” He spat sarcastically, turning again to flip the tap back on to go back to the last few dishes left.

“Harry, I came here to tell you that I love you.” She admitted, causing Harry to flinch. Something he’d once die to hear, now he couldn’t take seriously. ”No, you don’t.” He groaned, pained to even have to reject it, his lips pulling tight to stop himself from saying anything else. “Yes, I do.” She repeated, her voice catching an irritated tone. Harry couldn’t take it, she just kept pressing, and pressing. “I want to believe you, I do,” He said, his hands shaking while scrubbing the pots and pans. “but, I can’t, not anymore.”

“You can’t- What do you mean you can’t believe me?” She breathed out, bringing her hands up to brush the hair messed around the frame away from her face, the weight of this argument growing heavy. They’d hardly argued before, and never before to this degree. “I can’t believe you when you say you love me. I believe you care for me, or about me, or whatever.” He paused, swallowing thickly so as not to break down. “I don’t believe you’d ever give me an honest chance.” He admitted, his head hanging as he leaned against the kitchen sink, refusing to look at her.

She laughed almost incredulously, “Why not?” And Harry splits, “Because of Mark!” He barked at her, spinning around to finally face her. “It’s always Mark! You've never even considered me as an option!”

“Not once did you ever even contemplate it!” He was seething now, unsure as to how he could possibly get her to grasp a fraction of an idea as to how bad she's hurt him. “What do you want me to do, Harry! I can’t go back in time! I’m apologising now!”

“Oh, Christ, Y/N- They’re just fucking words! If that’s all you have for me, you’d better just go.” He admitted, a mixture of sadness and disappointment etched across his features.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to collect herself. “What do you want, Harry?” As she finally spoke, her voice was timid and defeated, and as Harry’s voice boomed over, she jumped.

“I wanted to be first!” He shouted, veins popping out on his neck from the force. “I wanted you!” His chest was heaving, fully unloading his anger. “Every time I think about you, Y/N, my chest hurts. Like, like someone is stepping on it. Especially when I think about you with him! It’s killing me, and I thought, I-I thought that I could,” He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed, deciding he had shared enough. He said what he felt he had to say.

She didn’t really know what to say, taken aback by his outburst. “I’m-,” She managed before Harry decided he had enough. “I think you should leave.” He muttered, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Harry,” She tried, even going as far as to take a step closer to him. “Get out.” Whatever sorrow she thought he could be feeling was so clearly gone. Now, he stood in front of her, tense and angry.

“Leave! I’m tired of this!” I can’t trust you anymore.

“H-Harry, I can’t lea- m’not leaving.” She tried again, begging herself not to let the tears fall. “Now you’re crying?!” Harry barked, reaching up to move his hair from his eyes, tugging as his fingers reached the ends. Rage surged through his body, grabbing her keyring off the counter to take his home key.

He snatched his own keys off the hook to take her house key off, linking it back onto her keyring. “I’m dead serious, Y/N, leave.” He said, cursing himself at the way his voice shook. He knew how scary he could look when he got angry like this, catching a glimpse of his reflection one time in an argument at work.

After pushing her keys back into her hands, he opened the front door and waited, his teary and red-rimmed eyes trained to the ground in front of him. “I-I’ll, I’ll earn it back, Harry. I promise, I-I’ll get the key back.” She murmured, as she walked past him out the door reluctantly. “I swear I’ll prove it.”

Harry managed a small half smile that bordered on sarcastic through his blank stare, hoping she would but still doubtful. “I guess we’ll see.” He gritted, shutting the door immediately afterwards before the unshed tears creating a gloss over his eyes finally fell. Only standing there another few seconds before going back to the distraction of cleaning his apartment again.

“Jod?” She called, stumbling through her best friend's house while fumbling to put the keys in her pocket. “Jooooodddddd!” She giggled out, her vision fuzzed enough as it is without it being pitch black.

Jodie opened her bedroom door quickly, “Y/N? Is that you?” She mumbled, knuckling at her eyes to make sure it was in fact, her drunk best friend. “D’y’know it’s about four in the morning?” A giggle came from the kitchen, as well as some glasses clinking. “Is it?” Y/N hummed, finally finding the kitchen while blindly feeling around for the lightswitch. “Goooot iiiit.” She sang before flipping the light on.

Jodie grabbed a robe, tying it across her waist and shuffled down the hall. “Are you drunk?” A good question, as she was slurring her words while pouring up another drink from her cabinet. “Is Daphne ‘ere?” Y/N hummed, teetering to one side momentarily. “No. Why don’t y’sit down and we can talk about it?” Jodie tried again, reaching for her friend's arm to tug her into the living room.

As both the girls sat down, the room fell quiet. “Talked to erm- Harry.” Y/N muttered, lifting her glass to her lips for a sip. “And?” Jodie asked, leaning forward to lower the other girl's glass. “C’mon, s’just me, relax.” She pressed and frowned as she watched the girl shake her head, more to herself than to Jodie. Y/N scoffed, standing up again to look for her speaker. “It's just us here, right?” She asked again, and Jodie furrowed her brows. “Yes, Daph’s out for the night but I don’t see why that matt-” And suddenly she was cut off by music. “I knew I’d regret giving you the house key.” She muttered to herself, knowing the music was too loud for her friend to hear her.

“Are you alright, Y/N? Have t’say, I’ve seen this kind of behaviour before.” Jodie said after standing up to turn it down. “I talked to Harry.” She repeated, giggling as she did so. “He looked sad. Sooo, sooooo beautiful, but sad.” She sighed, pouting before sitting against the couch’s arm rest. “Everything they said, s’true.” She muttered, staring into her lap as she swirled the liquid around the glass. “Y/N…” Jodie began, “I don’t know where this is go-,” Jodie stopped, as she was interrupted again. “I’m a terri- ‘hiccup’ -terrible person.”

Jodie took a breath, and decided to try again. “Just because you made a bad decision, doesn’t make you a terrible person.” Jodie sighed, somewhat pleased she was able to finish her two cents as she leaned her head against her palm.

“Jodie?” Y/N murmured, hardly looking up from the glass in her lap. “Yeah?” Her friend answered, her head snapping up at the mere thought of her best friend opening up. (Or the exhaustion, it was nearly 4am after all.) “I think I missed my chance.” Y/N whimpered, “I mean, he hates me. I thought I was goin’ over there to tell him what we,'' a hiccup interrupting her, “we had talked about.” She hummed, taking a quick breath to continue. “Was not the case.” She breathed out, shaking her head sadly at the memory of the fight.

“Y/N, I don’t think he hates you.” Jodie repeated, sighing before leaning back against the couch cushions with a soft yawn. “Jod, I’ve never seen him so angry. Ever.” Y/N mumbled, playing with the rings on her fingers. “I’ve just been an awful, awful, person lately. And, I know s’late a-and I wouldn’t normally be here. Becos’ usually, I can go to ‘arry’s. But I fucked that up for m’self, didn’t I.”

“He’s hurt.” Jodie reminded again. “Y/N, you realise that you’ve become his own Mark?”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?” She gasped, and her friend forgave the dramatics, chalking it up to her level of intoxication. “Don’t ‘what’ me.” Jodie laughed, sighing after she caught her breath. “Seriously, you did damn near everything Mark did to you. Whether or not you meant to, is not the issue. You did it, and you need to make it right.” Y/N frowned, reaching for her glass again. Jodie sighed and lowered it again. “And, this? This is not how you make it right. Straighten yourself up. M’not letting you go down this road again, and definitely not when it's from your own doing.” She stood, taking the rocks glass and brought it to the kitchen. “Now, what kind of sandwich would you like?” She asked curtly, dumping the remnants of the glass in the sink before turning to open the fridge and fish out the necessary items. “I’d like you sober now.”

———

Now that Jodie had been certain she had somewhat sobered her friend up, she settled on the couch with a blanket strewn across her lap. Y/N was eating a carefully crafted turkey and brie toastie with a glass of water, laid across the other couch. The two girls were watching some of the ‘007 movie series to settle back down for the night. Jodie was undoubtedly closer to sleep than Y/N, but she didn’t mind staying up with her if it brought her friend some solace. Of all the times she could remember, (other than recent unfortunate events) Y/N had never let her down. Always there, even when her mother died, Jodie actually had to send her on random ‘quests’ to find some alone time in those first few months. “Jodie, I couldn’t imagine going through what you’re going through and keep the same…. Jodie-ness about you.” She’d said all those years ago. They were young, just freshly in the middle of their college careers. In all honesty, Jodie had stayed ‘Jodie’ because she had Y/N. As silly as her statement was at the time, it truly summarised her most valued friendship.

“What are you thinking about?” Y/N suddenly asked, and Jodie lifted her head, “Are you asking me?” She giggled, “You never ask!” She admitted when she received a ‘duh’ and Y/N shrugged, pursing her lips. “Well, you’ve been practically counselling me for the past week and a half and I haven’t asked. S’been eating at me for a while.” Y/N explained, watching as Jodie frowned. “I just, I know you’ve been dealing with a lot too. About the house and,” To her relief, Jodie cut her off. “That’s okay. Your little dilemma offers a much appreciated distraction if we’re being honest. I’ll be okay, I’ve got time.” She explained through another yawn. “You, however, are fucking up left and right hourly.” Jodie teased and somehow successfully dodged a throw pillow tossed her way.

“I wish you would just cry and that could be it. Y’have to get confusing and block everybody out.” Jodie huffed, cracking a smile at her friend who feigned shock. “Honestly!” She laughed, Y/N joining along. “I’m not doing it to push people away, I just hate to complain about something so trivial. I mean, Daphne’s moving for her new job, stressful. You have this house to worry about securing, I-I mean, I can’t leave a man alone if it killed me. All the while, mucking up a great relationship with a guy that actually cared about me enough to at least try and wait it out. That’s done with.” Y/N huffed, her face burying into her hands. “It’s just embarrassing, that this is my life issue.”

“Your life issue?” Jodie laughed, “I somehow doubt that this is it for you, Drama Queen.” She giggled again at the thought, shaking her head. “I’m gonna try to fall asleep, you nutcase. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Love you, Jodie.” Y/N hummed, standing to collect the plates and glasses to set down in the kitchen. The very least she could do was fix her kitchen back up after she barged in and woke her friend from a dead sleep.

—

When Daphne walked in the door the next morning and saw Y/N on the couch, she immediately stormed down the hall to Jodie’s room, who had gotten up just an hour prior to go to her bed. “Jodie!” She whispered, opening her door a crack to poke her head in. “Get up! Right now, get up!”

Jodie groaned, whining as she flipped over, pulling her pillow over her head. Daphne walked over to her bed and pulled the pillow away. “Y/N is on our couch!” She huffed, Jodie grumbling out, “Yes.”

“So! What is she doing here?!” Daphne huffed, setting her hands on her hips. “Christ, Daph, does it look like I’m alert and ready for the day?” She complained and Daphne pulled the blankets back. “I’m serious!”

“She got drunk and came over in the middle of the night, we talked and fell asleep. What is the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I’m pissed off at her! So I’d like to know if and when she’s here.” She explained, irritance written across her face. “And I still live here too!”

“Stop it, Daph! She wasn’t here for you, she was just here to talk. You weren’t even here last night.” Jodie grumbled, blindly reaching for her covers. “Well, I’m leaving. Text me when she leaves.” Daphne huffed, leaving Jodie’s room to duck into her own to collect the things she’d need for the day, showering and dressing before slipping back out the door. (She did, however pack a bag with her ‘daily essentials’, her hair and makeup products. She absolutely couldn’t risk taking any longer.)

“Thank you.” Jodie grumbled, before burying herself back against her bed.

—

“Hey you’re up! I was just getting my things to head out.” Y/N hummed at the sight of her tired looking friend.

“Yeah, might need another nap.” Jodie yawned, going to the fridge for a glass of water. “Daphne’s mad at you.” She added, turning to look at her friend. “I figured, she hasn’t been answering my texts.” Y/N sighed, taking her keys and wallet. “She ever tell you why?” She pried, chewing at her lip. “I mean, I know why, but,” She sighed again, shrugging.

“Well, s’the same shit. I’m assuming she’ll have to talk to me about it at some point. Dunno why shes so pro-Harry all of a sudden.” Jodie answered, “Thinkin’ she thinks this is her chance?”

“Not my business.” Her friend replied curtly, pressing her lips together before taking a step to the door. “Well, I convinced Cade to come pick me up to take me home and he’s here so, I’m just going to try and pretend everything's okay for a little while longer. I’ll see you later Jodie. Thank you, again, and m’sorry again for keeping you up.” Y/N apologised, before she stepped out to meet Cade at the end of her drive.

Jodie sighed, shutting the door and headed to the kitchen to start a kettle for some tea. It always put her in the mood for a nap. With her tea ready, she shuffled to the couch to collapse against it after carefully sitting the cup on the table in front of her. “Peace,” She hummed, “and quiet.” before settling for another rest.

Somehow she had spoken too soon, the front door was opened again and Jodie grumbled something incoherent about having been so close to sweet sleep. “Is she gone?” Daphne’s voice rang through the entryway. “Jesus Chr- Yes, Daph, she left about ten minutes ago! You practically passed her, how long are you gonna keep this up?”

“As long as I feel is necessary.” Daphne countered, heading to the kitchen to set her bags down. “What’s all this?” Jodie asked when she sat up, shuffling to the kitchen to look at what her housemate brought home from the store.

“Went out to the store, grabbed some stuff. Are you hungry? It’ll be some sort of an orzo pasta salad.” Daphne shrugged, pulling the ingredients out of the bags, as well as pulling out the necessary pots and utensils.

“I suppose,” Jodie yawned again. “Let me get cleaned up and dressed, I’ll help you.” She muttered, taking her tea to the room to shower and change. “No, no, get your rest, shouldn’t take too long. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.” Daphne called as the other headed down the hall.

—

“And that’s it, it says, Chill overnight or serve as is.” Daphne read off her phone, “I’m hungry now, so as is it is.” She snickered to herself, setting her phone to the side to give a few final stirs before turning the burner off. “Jod! S’about ready, now or never! M’starving.” She called out, loud enough that she was sure her friend could hear her clearly. “Coming!” Daphne heard back, muffled as it was, as she began to run cold water over the orzo before mixing the vegetables, cheese cubes and dressing.

Before long, Jodie came down the hall with a swiftness. “Been smelling it for ages wondering when you’d call me down.” She hummed, “Looks amazing, Daph.” Jodie praised, taking the time to give her friend a good once over. “Hey,” Jodie began cautiously, “You okay?” Daphne huffed, cleaning up the counters' surface. “Yeah, Jod. I’m perfectly fine.” She sighed, disappointedly. “You could have at least let me accept your compliment before you dug into me.” She mused, rolling her eyes, worrying now that their lunch was ruined. Jodie stared at her for a moment, blinking every now and then. “You realise everything you’re currently doing is in fact not fine?”

“Okay, I’m not. It’s not like it matters. Nobody listens to me anyways.” Daphne grumbled, taking her seat after passing a bowl to Jodie. “What’s your problem then? You’ve been as irritable as ever for the past three days.” Jodie asked, her brows furrowed with confusion.

“Because! You baby her! Let her get off the easy way and she’s in the wrong. I don’t care if she cries or begs, she fucked up and she deserves to hear about it.” Daphne sighed, shaking her head gently in thought.

“Yeah, Daphne, but some people learn differently. How can you expect someone to learn from their mistakes if you throw them to the wind and never give them the chance to fix it?” Jodie asked, still leaned against the counter as she watched Daphne clear the kitchen and turn the light off to sit at the breakfast counter. “And, I don’t baby her.”

"Oh, come on. Why’d y’think she stuck with Mark? She likes playing games, and she doesn't care about the victims of those games; even when they're her own best friends." Daphne griped, finally taking a bite from her bowl. “I’m not sure why you act like she’s been like this for your entire friendship.” Jodie counters, both unimpressed and growing irritated with how her friend is speaking about their supposed shared friend.

“She practically has! She was always the nicest, the smartest, everybody loves her. Even while making the most colossal mistakes!” Daphne groaned, rolling her eyes. “I love her, I do, like I would my sister! But I make one measly misstep and I’m done for. It’s time she gets a little bit of reality.”

“There’s reality, and then there’s meanness.” Jodie shrugged, grabbing a spoon to sit down with her friend. “And Daph, you’ve made tons of measly mistakes, and the world never ended, nor did we ever throw you out.”

The group met at the Stumble close to a week and some days later, and the night was getting into its usual spring, with Cade drunk and slumped at the bar booth they sat at. Unfortunately, Cade lost another shot challenge to Jodie, as usual, and it had left him incapacitated for the evening.

With Daphne at the bar and Cade practically asleep, Y/N scooted closer to Jodie. “I fucked up.” She whispered and Jodie’s eyes widened, “Do not tell me you slept with Mar-,” Y/N shook her head quickly, watching for Daphne. “No! Nice vote of confidence, that, thanks. No, I went to Harry’s last night to drop off a pizza, he said he didn’t get to eat so I thought it’d be a peace offering.” Jodie nodded, leaning in closer to hear her better. “He had a girl over.” Y/N murmured, watching as Jodie’s eyes widened again. “Harry did?!” She practically shouted, “Yes, shh! Not too loud, Daphne’s coming back. Mums the word, Jod, I mean it.” Y/N winced at the memory, reliving the humiliation all over again before shooting a glare at her friend and straightened up as Daphne began walking back over.

“What are you doin’ ’ere, Y/N?” He hushed, his breath leaving him at the sight of her. She had a box of pizza in her arms and a hopeful smile. “Y’said you hadn’t ate today, thought I’d bring some pizza for you.” She explained, her eyes holding his for a minute before she began feeling her cheeks heat up. As she looked around to avoid his stare, she caught sight of a jacket on the coat rack and a thin silked scarf. Brown leather, that looked far too small to fit around his broad shoulders. Harry’s stomach dropped, and he felt his mouth go dry. “Thank you, but uh, s’not really a good time. Could I call you tomorrow?” His heart was hammering, thumping through his eardrums. Y/N could feel herself deflate, putting the pieces together. His hair wasn’t dishevelled from napping, he had a girl over and she was interrupting their date. Her eyes widened and she began nodding, “Yeah! No worries,” She assured him and handed him the pizza box. Harry felt like he could die right there, his arms taking the box from her out of shock. Why tonight? Of all nights?

“It’s for you, I uh, already ate.” Come on now, Y/N. Just get out of there already! “Er, right. Talk to you tomorrow.” She muttered again and awkwardly turned to get back down the driveway to her car, walking as fast as she could without obviously running.

Harry watched as she retreated back to the car and groaned, shutting the door. “Everything alright?” His brown haired guest asked, coming down his stairs in one of his shirts. They had hardly gotten very far, really. The doorbell chiming just as the woman, Claire?, had broken their makeout to remove her shirt. Harry sighed, looking to the box and grumbled. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” He managed to make the trip to the kitchen and set the box down on the island. “You ordered a pizza?” She asked, coming up behind him to look from around his shoulder, before taking a sip of her wine. Harry tensed and rolled his shoulders back to get her off them. “Sorta,” He sighed, ”Listen, m’really sorry, but I’m not feeling too well. Could I order a ride share to come pick you up?” He asked, feeling as though his legs were cemented to the floor under him. Her eyebrows furrowed, and he could tell how awkward the air got. “Uh, sure? Are you alright, Harry?”

“Er, not really, m’so sorry but,” He sighed, shaking his head at himself. “I’ll help you grab your things.” He murmured, picking his phone up to order a ride for her. The woman, looking very confused, began to gather her things and slip her boots on. “Did I do something wrong?” She paused when she got to the doorway, looking at him for some better explanation. “No, no, really, believe me. It’s my fault. I’ll give you a call.” He added, chewing at his lip just desperate to get this girl out of his home.

“Anyone know if Harry’s coming by tonight?” Y/N asked, sipping cautiously at her drink as she watched her friends turn their attention to her. She really just wanted to apologise to him for intruding and that she hoped it didn’t ruin his night, as crushing as that reality felt. There was a lot she wanted to apologise for, the list just keeps growing by the day.

Daphne giggled as she returned, clearly having just caught her question. “Well, I imagine he has other friends, Y/N. He’s probably out with them.” She snipped, setting the drinks on the table and took her seat next to her date she decided to bring along impromptu. Y/N grimaced at her answer, of course he has other friends, lots of other friends.

The two girls haven't been on the best of terms, hardly speaking to one another if Daphne didn’t have something snarky to say. Jodie tried her best to dispute any minor arguments, for the sake of the two's friendship. They’ve butted heads before but they’d also gotten over worse situations. The fact that Daphne seemed to be going out of her way to bring it up, had Jodie on edge the past week. And Harry hadn’t texted Y/N nor had he really been seen in the same amount of time. The last time he came out with the group, he had to leave early after he began introducing the group to a random girl he met by the bar that looked a lot like Y/N, even going as far to introduce her as The Nice Y/N, the poor thing, after having a bit too much to drink. From then on, if he did come out, he never stayed long.

“Chill out, Daph.” Jodie spoke up, eyes practically searing at Daphne. “Y’sound jealous.” She giggled, playing it off as a joke effortlessly for her date whose eyes went wide at the accusation.

Most of the group rolled their eyes, preparing for another gruesome catfight between the two girls. Peace was found few and far between nowadays, Daphne just wouldn’t drop it.

The truth was, Harry was out with some of his other friends. A rehearsal party for a wedding in Italy to be exact. One he had planned to take Y/N to when he got the invitation a few months or so prior, but, well… that played out the way it did all on its own.

So, as he sat on his own at the full service open bar, making friends with the hired bartender. “Think I can get another one of those pomegranate things, mate?” Harry asked, having just finished his first drink. “What’s in it, by the way?” The bartender smiled, setting out the bottles he used for the drinks. “Bit of Prosecco, the pomegranate liqueur, and some white rum. Garnish and whatever else.” He shrugged. “Agli sposi è piaciuto molto.” Harry sighed and nodded, taking the drink besides not knowing what he had actually said. “Salute” He said before taking a big gulp. “Make that two of these.” He gritted, raising his glass.

———

“So, did you come here with someone?” Harry asked, staring into his glass. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been sitting on the ground with…Luca, and Luca, as he found out, didn’t speak great English, but he’d been doing well thus far. And surely, it could’ve gone smoother had alcohol not been involved.

Luca’s brows furrowed, shaking his head at him. Harry frowned, trying to remember some basic keywords he tried to learn while on the plane. “Erm…fidanzata?” Harry tried and Luca nodded, turning his head to look for his girlfriend. “Mia ragazza, Vita, è seduta lì. Over there.” Luca repeated in his best English after noticing Harry’s confused look. “Ahh, ‘Ve got a girl, whooo, by the way,” He mused as he sat on the floor by the bar, leaning against the wall for stability. His head falling heavy on his neck as he gave in to his memory, those pomegranate things…or whatever they were seemed to be working their way through him. “Would’ve looked gorgeous tonight. Could’ve outdone the bride-to-be.” He hummed, lifting his head to take another gulp of his drink and loosen the tie around his neck. “Probably best I didn’t bring ‘er after all, isn’t it?” He laughed out, letting his heavy head fall back again, his hand coming up to run a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Would’ve left early, back to the ‘otel,” He hummed, his eyes fluttering closed, “Jesus Christ, she’d give the sloppiest blowj-“ He was interrupted by a sudden weight at his knees. When Harry quickly opened his eyes and looked down, a dog had laid its head on his lap.

As he looked around, the guy he thought he was talking to from the groom’s side was nowhere to be found. “I thought we were bonding, Luca!” Harry laughed out to nobody, his hands scratching behind the dog's ears. “S’a good thing you stopped me, far too young to hear about all that yet. Where’d you even come from?” He laughed to himself.

To: Y/N

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N turned over in her bed, her phone buzzing on her bedside table had lifted her out of her pathetic half sleep. She grumbled to herself in annoyance, knuckling at her tired eyes before pushing herself up in the bed. Finding the lamp's knob to turn it on, she reached over to grab her phone.

*Message from Harry*

Her brows furrowed, rubbing at her eyes again to clear her hazy vision before unlocking her phone to view the message.

From: Harry

I just poured my feelings out to a dog.

Y/N let out an involuntary giggle, trying to ignore the daunting question forming in her head as she wondered what exactly that dog got to hear.

She stared at the message for a while, glancing at the time before tapping on the character field to type out her reply.

To: Harry

am I supposed to laugh? because that’s funny

I hope he didn’t bill you for the therapy

Harry chortled embarrassingly as he read her text, staggering down the hall of his hotel until he got to his door. The shock that he normally would have felt, had he not drank as much as he had, was nowhere to be found. If he was sober, he’d surely not have sent any text whatsoever like he bad been doing. He just missed her, annoyingly. Nevermind the aches and pains from the memory, apparently, going more than a week without talking to her hurts more. He rolls his eyes at that, “Go figure.” He muttered to himself.

Once the door was unlocked and opened, he trudged inside, yanking at his tie to slide it off his neck while looking at her reply. “Y’could’ve been here wiv’me.” He mumbled to himself, sighing as he toed off his dress shoes, stepping out to the balcony for a few quick puffs of a cigarette to ease his nerves. Cefalù, Sicily seemed to have gone quiet for the night, apart from some clubs and bars, and a few stragglers still at the beach, surprisingly quieter than he had expected. Harry sighed, looking over the view as he took a drag, snubbing it out and tossing it in the trash before dipping back inside to finish getting undressed for bed.

His thumbs fiddled around his keyboard for a few minutes, and he decided to send whatever echoed in his head, pressing send before another moment could go by and began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

To: Y/N

I wish you could be here.

He had only sent the message just over a minute ago but the anticipation was eating away at him, nevermind the fact that he was pretty drunk from the four, or was it five? He lost track after the conga line. Needless to say, the pomegranate drinks did their job well.

His thumb immediately hit the call button, putting it to speakerphone as he attempted again to undo his buttoned dress shirt. One ring, two rings, three… four… Is this a bad idea?

“Harry?” He could hear her whisper, and he held his breath. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. She sounded like she was asleep and he brought his hands up to rub across his face. “Shit, m’sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’ about if you’d been asleep.” He started but Y/N was quick to cut him off. “No, m’not, I haven’t,” She sighed, starting her sentence again with an amused giggle. “I hadn’t been to sleep yet.”

Harry hummed, taking a seat on his temporary bed for the remainder of the week. “Havin’ trouble?” He asked hesitantly. She snickered, propping her pillows upright so she could lean against them. “Something like that.”

There was a few seconds of silence, the both of them somehow content with the knowledge that the other was there.

“Did you have something to say, Harry?” She asked timidly, unsure why he was calling her at 3am. She could hear him take in a deep breath on the other line, and she sunk further into her bed as she waited anxiously. “N-Not that I’m trying to get off the call, o-or anythin,” Harry laughed, effectively stopping her rambling. “I really don’t have anything else to say.” He admitted as laid himself down, and tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his stomach when she giggled.

“Why? Because you said it all to a dog already?” She giggled out, the line on the other end going quiet, deathly quiet.

—

“Did you mute me to laugh? Or were you just acting like I was funny this whole time?” She countered, her eyebrows furrowing.

A faint click was heard and Harry’s giggling voice rang through the phone again. “As if you know me.” He laughed out, sighing as he relaxed on the bed. She giggled, pursing her lips as she thought of anything else to keep the conversation going. “Oh! How was the wedding?”

Harry hummed, exhaling as he prepared to answer. “S’tommorow, so we’ll be expected to be fully sober and prepared. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner, or party, or whatever they called it. M’hopin they’ll have more of that pomegranate drink they had tonight.” Y/N snickered, thankful they were on the phone so he couldn’t see the stupid grin plastered across her lips. “I wanted you here with me.” She could hear him murmur and sighed at his admission, her eyes shutting closed as she laid on her bed. “I hope m’not keeping you up.” He spoke again, suddenly remembering there was a time zone difference. Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “No! No, you’re only an hour ahead, Harry. I’m technically keeping you up.”

“Have I mentioned how beautiful it is here? I know m’pretty trashed, but seriously. The pictures don’t do it justice.” She had seen the pictures, the sunsets, the meals, the giggly videos uploaded to a story she was somehow still allowed to see.

Y/N sighed, staring at her ceiling as she listened. “I can imagine, are you near the beach?” She hummed, tucking her legs up closer under the covers so she could turn slightly to look out her window; a true fashioned England thunderstorm was reaching its peak. “Well, I’ve got a slight view where our hotel is, but the wedding will be closer when we head that way tomorrow evening.” He hummed, finally laying in his own bed.

“It’s raining here, thundering, actually.” She sighed, her bottom lip tucking under her teeth as she looked to twirl her rings around her fingers. Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. There were a few nights that they spent together during a storm, some of the best time he’d argue they ever had. The house would inevitably get colder, and they’d have food prepared, movies downloaded and flashlights nearby. Harry would get a fire going in the fireplace, and they’d sit on the couch with all their snacks, waiting the storm out.

Here comes the ache. It felt like shutting down, the way his brain cut that train of thought, the memories. He shouldn’t have called. “I can imagine.” Harry repeated, a low rasp settling in his voice as exhaustion began to set in his body. “Harry?” He heard her soft voice through the receiver, her tone letting him know what was coming. “Y’ought to get some sleep, Y/N.” He sighed, reaching up to turn his light out.

“I’ve tried.” She murmured, clearing her throat after a moment of silence. “Well, try again.” He hummed, setting an arm behind his head. She snickered herself before laying back down in her bed. “Yeah. Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry frowned, brows knitted together before uttering out “Goodnight.” just before the call ended.

“I’m tellin’ you, all of a sudden everyone was gone, and it was just me and the dog!” Harry laughed out, leaning back against the backrest of the booth, listening to the confusion and laughter spread amongst the group.

He looks so good. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Italy did him well, a full tan across his skin. He was truly glowing. Thank God he was telling a story so no one else would notice her absolutely staring at him. And she wished she could pay attention to what he was saying, because everyone was hysterical around her. So much so, that now it was clear she hadn’t been paying attention. She faked a laugh, looking around at everyone else in order to gauge just how funny the conversation got.

“And you didn’t realise everyone was leaving?” Jodie laughed out, a little more than skeptical at his story. “Or the lights dimming?! Music stopping?” Harry laughed and shook his head, “Not at all! Hand over my heart, s’them drinks! Which, I’ll be recreating as best I can because they were phenomenal.” He sighed, going over (to the best of his ability, in hindsight he probably shouldve asked the bartender to just write the ingredients down) what was put in those drinks.

“Italy was beautiful, I mean, everything was gorgeous. The food, the villages, I mean, my God.” Harry sighed, his hand placed over his heart. “I’ll miss it.”

Y/N was busy with her drink when she felt a nudge under the table. Her head snapped up, finding Jodie who had locked eyes with her, a smirk placed on her lips before mouthing ‘worldly experience’. A small gesture to cheer her up, something she had always loved about Jodie. Nevertheless, Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. ‘Rub it in, why don’t you?’ She mouthed back.

“You’d all love it. We ought to rent out a place for a week and all us of go together.” Harry suggested, reaching for his glass to finish off. “Have t’say, wasn’t the same without you guys.”

“Let’s just crash our own wedding.” Cade offered, snickering as he was probably already drunk. “I don’t know anyone getting married, Cade, do you?” Daphne asked, shaking her head at him. “Doesn’t have to be someone we know, Daph,” Jodie piped up, “you’re supposed to check out venues, times and all that. If there's a wedding event, then you go. That’s a properly crashed wedding.”

“But they wouldn’t recognise us! They’d escort us away immediately.” Daphne argued with a huff. “Yeah, but anyone that asks, you just tell ‘em that you’re a friend of either side. Family doesn’t really care about the friends part of the invited.” Cade explained, holding his head up. “Tell ‘em Y/N. She’s done it before.” He grumbled, “If y’dont believe me.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head at Cade before sliding a glass of water over to him. “We have done it before,” She replied, gesturing between herself and Jodie. “Nobody bothered us.” She shrugged, before standing. “I think Mr. Man over here, needs a burger and chips.” She giggled, Jodie standing as well. “I’ll go with you. Anyone need a top off?” Jodie asked, looking around the group for the show of hands. “Not you, Cade.” She laughed out, before the two made the trip to the bar for the tables orders.

“So,” Jodie started, leaning against the bar while waiting for the bartender to finish their serve. “So?” Y/N laughed out, shrugging her shoulders as she scanned the menu items for a decent burger for Cade. “Sooooo, have you talked to Harry?” She asked again, wriggling her brows at her with a giggle. “Christ, Jod.” Y/N laughed and shook her head, “No, nothing since the phone call.” She sighed and pursed her lips, “Think he’d do that onion and bacon cheeseburger?” Y/N asked, trying to change the topic. “Cade would eat styrofoam if you handed it to him, now, are you planning on talking to Harry?” Jodie pried again, rolling her eyes as Y/N grinned at the bartender, relaying the orders to ignore the question again.

When the barman shot off, Jodie huffed and tapped on her friend's shoulder. “Er, Hello? M’talkin t’you here, sweets.” Y/N groaned, tipping her head back, “What do I say to him, Jodie? Hey, remember our phone call when you were slaughtered after living it up in Italy? Ooh, or, My God, Harry you look great! I wish I wasn’t such a nonce, and we could’ve gone together!?” Y/N rolled her eyes, “No thanks, really, m’fine.”

“Not really a bad start is it? And, you still haven’t talked to him about the pizza incident.” Jodie reminded, watching the bartender talk to the cook in the back. Y/N sighed, her eyes shutting. “Jodie, please..” She breathed and Jodie scoffed, “Don’t give me that, I think he should’ve at least mentioned leaving for a week, after whatever that was. He never explained himself to you.” She asked and Y/N shook her head, “And he doesn’t have to, I had no business being there, and if I had just kept to myself then I’d never have known anyone was with him that night. So, please. I’d like to drop it.”

Jodie sighed, collecting the drinks tray as Y/N reached for Cade’s food before they made their way back to the table, Jodie uttering a quiet, “If you say so...”

“Well, Harry told me earlier that the same night he had Carina over, Y/N had showed up with a pizza.” Daphne murmured to the table, consisting of Jodie, Cade, and Daphne’s date for the night. Jodie’s eyes widened and carefully slipped her phone out to send a message. The group had just arrived at the bar after a pregame party at Jodie and Daphne’s to celebrate Daphne’s birthday, and Harry had just stepped out to the bathroom, thankfully.

To: Y/N

Daphne knows about Pizza Night

“While Harry was with her?” Cade asked, his brows knitted together in confusion. “No, you idiot,” Daphne laughed, “He said she just showed up with a box of pizza while he had my friend Carina over.” She explained and snickered again when she finished. “Why is that funny?” Jodie asked, her tone quick and sharp as she dug in her bag for her lipstick.

“Guess it’s not funny, just, er, unideal.” She giggled again, shrugging her shoulders in response, to which Jodie rolled her eyes. She’d never known Daphne to be so petty in her life, and she couldn’t stand to see it. Just as she was going to correct her friend, Y/N had come bursting through the front doors.

“What took you so long? Ordering pizza?” Daphne snickered as she watched Y/N rush in haphazardly to get to her seat. “No,” Y/n snapped, setting her coat and bag down to the inside of the booth. “Had to take care of some things, my car’s been acting up so I had just now gotten to pick it up from the mechanic.” She breathed, sitting down finally with her forefinger and thumb pinching at a throbbing nerve at the bridge of her nose. “Had to call three rideshares, the first two just never showed up. It’s just been,” Y/N sighed, trailing off as another throb derailed her train of thought. “Well, lemme get you a drink, babes.” Jodie offered, ignoring the wave of Y/N’s dismissive hand as she got up anyway to fetch her friend a drink.

“Ought to get some sleep, all those headaches.” Daphne chirped, shrugging her shoulders as she sipped at her own drink. “Never known you to be late for my birthday.”

Y/N sighed, nodding, “I know, and m’sorry Daph, really. Happy Birthday.” She muttered before sliding over the gift she somehow managed to pick up before the shop closed. “V’been so stressed lately, wasn’t sure if you’d like it but there's a gift receipt if you want to exchange it.” She explained breathily. No matter how bad they had been fighting lately, a birthday is a birthday. A silly promise they made all those years ago but something Y/N took to heart.

“A birthday is a birthday.” Jodie raised her glass to the air, huffing as her friends stared at her before bursting out into laughter. “C’mon, it’s a toast, you idiots!” Jodie groaned as they began to laugh harder. “To what?!” Daphne gasped out in between giggles. “That no matter where we are, different time zones or with one another, mad or not; a birthday is a birthday. And y’can’t miss it.” Y/N wiped her eyes and clutched her stomach, an attempt to calm herself down.

“S’not bad, actually.” She hummed, raising her glass as well before looking at Daphne. “Come on!” Jodie coaxed, grinning as the third rolled her eyes playfully, lifting her arm in the air to gently tip against the others' glasses. “A birthday is a birthday!” Daphne grinned, the three girls knocking their shots back to begin their night.

Daphne’s eyes widened for a moment, reaching across to accept the bag. “I- Thank you.” She breathed out, pursing her lips as she set the gift to the side.

Harry had emerged from the bathroom, stilling slightly when he saw Y/N had in fact made it before continuing to the seat. “You look exhausted.” He said, a frown pulling at his lips at the sight of how tired she actually looked. “I know, I know, they’ve said so.” She sighed, straightening up as Jodie came back with her drink and a chip and wings platter for Cade. “Thank you, I’m poor at the moment.” Y/N laughed, reaching into the chips pile.

“Are you sleeping well?” Jodie asked, nudging her friend's shoulder when she shook her head no. “Keep waking up throughout the night. Might need a new pillow or something.” Y/N explained, sipping quickly at her drink and hoping the conversation would venture elsewhere.

“Maybe if you weren’t showing up at random times to peoples houses-,” Daphne started again, only opening her mouth once more before Y/N lifted her head to look at her. She couldn’t really be this mean? “Then perhaps you’d getting better sleep.” She finished, and Harry froze, swallowing thickly. He never meant for Daphne to use it as informational ammo. Harry cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he prepared to intervene but Y/N had beat him to it after finishing what was left in her glass.

“Are you done?” Y/N cut, glaring at her. “Shut up about it already, okay?”

“Touchy.” She quipped, giggling as she glanced at Harry. Y/N rolled her eyes, excusing herself from the group to get the next round of drinks.

“I like when Daphne drinks.” Cade laughed when he was sure Y/N was out of earshot earning a smack on the arm from Jodie. Daphne grinned, pretending to fan herself at the praise. “Happy Birthday, to me.” She hummed, reaching for a shot from the centre and downing it. “Wasn’t really that big of a deal, was it? Some advice and she takes off.”

“Y’have to love the theatrics, though.” Harry added, shrugging as he reached over to down a shot as well. Jodie huffed and leaned back in her seat, her legs crossed one over the other as she braced herself to tell the whole group off. “Hardly theatrics, isn’t it.” Said Jodie, as she couldn’t take much more of the banter. “Well, she stormed off over nothing.” Harry huffed and Jodie's eyes widened. “Nothing?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes again. “Don’t act stupid, Harry, you know what Daphne was getting at, and you!” She glared at Daphne, sneering at her even. “That’s far too low for you, you’ve got more class than that.” She added, leaving Daphne with her mouth hung agape.

“S’a fucking ploy, Jod. So, she’s a lil’ embarrassed, she’ll be fine.” Harry reluctantly replied, his eyes darting at the rest of the table as a silent plea for help.

“Oi, I hear her crying in the middle of the night, Harry. S’hardly a ploy. You, of all people, should know what I’m talking about.” Harry, of course, did know immediately what she was talking about, and it made him sick. The first time they got together, what started it all. So long ago, but somehow still as bittersweet as it was now, it was the happiest time of his life. Before he knew, before it was ruined. His jaw clenched, thinking back at it now and remembering it’s not his fault.

“I’ve cried too, Jod!” He argued, his chest beginning to feel the far too familiar ache. Jodie rolled her eyes, with a sarcastic laugh. “It’s your doing! Both of you! Harry, you could very easily get all this over and done with a simple yes or no. Just rip the bloody bandage off already. We all know what Y/N did, and I don’t know why Daph’s so set on making it ten times worse. I don’t feel bad for you, for anyone!” She argued, crossing her arms over her chest. “And Daphne, just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you get a free bitch pass, not from me anyway.” Jodie finished, leaving Daphne to grumble her response. “You all suck. I want new friends.” Jodie huffed at that, cracking a small smile to ease the tension. “I expect to hear apologies in the next coming days. Cade, you too!” Jodie sneered, grabbing from the chip pile to toss at him, “What did I do?!” He whined, groaning when Daphne grabbed some of the fallen ones to toss at him too. “Shut Up, Cade.”

Jodie sighed, feeling the weight loft from her shoulders now that she’d spoken her mind. “She’s not even there anymore, I don’t see her.” Jodie grumbled as she turned to scan the bar area. “Lemme…” She trailed off, pushing her chair from the table to get up and find her.

When she got to the bar and tried explaining what Y/N was wearing to the barman, she caught a glimpse of her dress in the outside area. “That’s okay, think that’s her outside, thank you anyway.” She said over the music, grabbing for the made drinks and hurried out the door.

“Y/N?” She started, quietly and sighed as her friend's head tipped backwards at the acknowledgement of her presence. “It’s fine, Jodie.” She breathed out. “No it is not. You were supposed to be at the bar, know better than to just disappear.” She scolded, setting the tray of drinks on one of the iron wrought tables sitting on the stone patio, sprawled each way for any patrons needing a smoke break or fresh air.

“Didn’t disappear, paid for the order and thought I’d earned a smoke break. I’ve been running around all day, stressing. Thought tonight would be a nice peaceful distraction, but nooo, not as long as Miss Perfect is around.”

“Miss Perfect,” Jodie laughed at that, “Really, you both act like you’ve never been friends in your life! Over what? Mark of all things?” she added exasperatedly.

“Yeah, well, I tried being nice. Tried a birthday is a birthday, she doesn’t care. Harry doesn’t care, m’over it. I fucked up, and it’s done with. M’tired of feeling like I’m the only one trying to mend my mistake. Feels like beatin’ a dead horse. So, so, so fuck it.” She rasped, bringing her arms around herself as she took another drag. “Fuck it.” Jodie repeated and sighed, “Alright, well, I’ll leave you to yourself then.” And Y/N spitefully laughed out, “Yes, Thank you!” before turning her head to the door to find Jodie had already left.

—

“Did you find her?” Cade asked, lifting his head as Jodie returned with the forgotten tray of drinks. “Yes.” She griped, setting the tray down and returning to her seat. Daphne and Cade carefully reached over for their drinks, watching as Jodie glared at Harry who kept his head down.

Cade nudged Harry, “What?” Harry barked, annoyed he was shaken out of his thoughts. Cade glanced to Jodie and then away again, acting like he heard his name from behind him. “O-Oh, h-hey…. Charlie, haven’t seen you in a while!” He said before scrambling away to the back of the pub.

“What?!” Harry asked again incredulously and Jodie rolled her eyes and pointed to the outside area. “Fix. It. Now.” Harry groaned, pursing his lips. “She doesn’t want to talk with me.” He tried and jumped when Jodie gave a swift kick to his shin under the table. “Alright, alright…” He winced, standing carefully with a slight limp as he hobbled to the side door.

As he opened the door, he brought his arms around himself at the feel of the bite from the wind. And upon a short glance around, he saw her toeing at the cobblestone in the back corner, half burnt cigarette in hand that desperately needed ashed off. He sighed, a little too loudly as she had jumped, spinning around with a hand to her chest. “Jesus, you scared me.” She admitted, and Harry could see she’d had herself a little cry.

“Hey.” He mumbled, his hands shoved into his pockets to keep from pulling her into his arms. He really hated to see her so upset, “You okay?”

“Oh, m’fine, Harry. Thanks.” She huffed, taking another drag of her cigarette after she turned back away from him. “Really, for everything. S’nothing for you to worry about.” She snipped, gritting her teeth together. “I’ll guess, Jodie sent you.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Y/N, about the other night,” He began, taking a step closer. “I, it wasn’t, well-,” He struggled, pursing his lips tight. “S’fine, Harry. Daphne’s right, I shouldn’t have just shown up. Wasn’t my place to do so.” Y/N interrupted, shaking her head. She just didn’t want to know, she felt stupid to have tried a stunt like that to begin with. But Harry continued anyway, “A-and, I didn’t think she’d use it like that when I told her, and! We weren’t like, making fun of you. I was just venting, I felt awful. The timing of it, it was just, it was awful.” He finished, watching her carefully as his hands dug into the material of the pocket of his trousers.

“And, I wanted to erm,” he added, looking at his shoes and began to fuss with a loose cobblestone. “I wanted to apologise, for how I acted the other day. Well, really, days ago now. Er, I know, I wasn’t exactly fair.”

“Please don’t apologise, Harry, I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course a simple sorry wouldn’t have fixed it. I just, I talked with Jodie about it and it- it all hit me that I had it all wrong. And,” She sighed, shrugging it off. “I fucked up, a-and, it’s done for, so, if we could swiftly just er- try and forget?” Her voice began to shake, her lips quivering as she struggled to get the words out. Harry frowned, taking another step closer. “Y/N, I don’t want to forget.” His voice was strong and sure, and she groaned in frustration, “Cor, Harry, I’m so confused.”

Harry grumbled a bit to himself, “Look, just, come back inside. We’ve got all of our friends inside. S’Daphne’s birthday, possibly her last with us, yeah?” He tried to reason, to get her mind of it. He loved her, yes, but he wasn’t quite ready to forgive and forget either. He wanted the opportunity for the pair to get their frustrations out, the dramatic side of him needed to get to the bottom of this. Whether it meant he had to yell, and hear her yell too. He felt it was the most raw way to get to the solution of an argument. Or maybe that he needed to hear that she cared about losing him as badly as he did. That she’d been as miserable as he was.

Y/N stayed quiet, chewing at the inside of her lip. “Know it’s her birthday an’all but, fuck Daphne right now.” Harry laughed a little, reaching a hand out to her. “Come back in, s’bloomin’ cold out here.” She sighed and tipped her head back. “I don’t know, Harry. Think I should just go home.” She admitted, reaching through her bag for her phone. “Noo, really. Stay, please.” He shifted closer and grabbed her bag. “So Jodie won’t chop me up into a million pieces? Because she’s really scaring me.” He added and glanced back through the door to see Jodie staring at them through the glass. Y/N laughed and shook her head fondly at her friend, “She’s come a long way to get that intimidating,” and with a heavy sigh, “yeah, c’mon. it is cold.” Before she could take a step towards the door, Harry stopped her. “We will, talk later, y’know,” He assured, swallowing thickly as he ran a hand through his hair; a poor attempt to retain his newly set boundaries, he thinks. “Later?” She repeated, her brows knitted together. “Yeah, later, s’alot to say, wouldn’t you agree?” He grumbled, something of a curse was all she could make out, yet seemingly annoyed with himself. “I-I do…” She mumbled, even more uneasy than before somehow. “Plus, we’d better head in before the Birthday Girl gets drunk before we do.” He added and Y/N laughed, still uneasy but shrugged it off all the same. “Later works with me, yeah.”

[part i.] [part ii.]

(a/n: WOW its here, and dont even let me BEGIN on tumblr’s mobile editing format bc it SUCKS!! anyway! sorry again for the long wait, and i hope your patience is rewarded with the third part!!! xxx as always, feedback and comments are always appreciated!)

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kookslastbutton · 8 months

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Love's Remedy ༓ jjk (m) l Ch. III

✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.

Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,378

Warnings: jk is very determined to "win" oc, jk a romantic, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), protective!koo again, oc is an engineering student, PC Bang, jk is a king at LOL (League of Legends), jk lowkey flirts with new person, oc gets cold feet but please don't blame her 🥹, jk and oc get on level ground after hashing things through, themes of stalker-ish behavior (not oc or jk!), feat Jackson and Jae-beom, if i missed warning lmk!

Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+

A/N: For reference a PC Bang is: "a type of LAN gaming center and Internet cafe in South Korea, where patrons can play multiplayer computer games for an hourly fee". Also, I am not a gaming guru but I try for this chapter that means I researched haha Enjoy! 💞

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

A week later, Jungkook waits for you at your agreed rendezvous point; for over an hour. You promised to meet him near the campus garden at 7 pm but here it is almost 8 pm and you're a no-show.

He checks his phone for the fourteenth time since arriving–no reply.

Jungkook tries not to jump to conclusions but you broke your word and you ghosted him.

He thinks back to last week when he'd stepped between you and Jun-ho. And when you followed him back to his dorm where he told you he could love and take care of you, as you helped patch his wound. Had he come on too strong? Did you get into more trouble that he didn't know about?

He kicks a few pebbles by his feet, sending them flying in every which way, as the number of endless possibilities rattles his brain.

"Stupid," he cusses himself. "You're just so fucking stupid."

How could he believe that after two short weeks of random run-ins with you that he'd earn your interest? You told him you don't do relationships yet he still shows up, anxiously presenting himself as your knight in shining armor. Any sane person would tell him he was barking up a dead tree.

"Might as well get a head start on next week's homework." Jungkook loses hope, trotting back to the dormitory with the wind howling and mocking behind him.

"What do you mean she ditched you?" The boisterous inquisition belongs to Jackson who's looking thoroughly offended once hearing his new best friend was shown up. He isn't sure how much this woman meant to him, but either way, it makes him livid. Even if you weren't going to go out with him, you should've at least told him like a decent human being.

"I really thought she'd come," Jungkook replies with his heavy eyes. He walks alongside the blonde-haired boy, dirt crunching below his feet. "Guess she had something better to do."

"No." Jackson stops in the middle of the road. "You know who actually has better things to do? It's you. What do you say to hitting up the PC Bang downtown? Play a little League of Legends or Overwatch?"

Jungkook shrugs with less enthusiasm than a snail. "Sure…"

"Hey man," Jackson puts a hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "I'm sorry about you and __. It sucks being stood up. I've had my fair share and you just gotta take it as a blessing that nothing else happened between you both. Nine times out of ten, it didn't have anything to do with you either so don't blame yourself. Take it as a lesson and keep working on yourself until the right person shows up. They'll be the person you can truly give yourself to."

"Hard to believe you've been shown up. You're charismatic, confident, in good shape, have good facial features, and you're getting your MD." Jungkook's aware of his friend's attempt to lift his spirits but he can't fathom anyone not giving Jackson the time of day. Due looks like a pop star in the making.

"Nah, most of what you just said is me bullshitting my way through life. I'm not all that," Jackson rejects, striding forward. "I got rejected by a girl a few days ago myself."

"Had a boyfriend?"

"Nope, just didn't like me. And she doesn't go out with first -years apparently."

"Oh," Jungkook's eyebrows shoot up. "She was an upperclassman?"

"Yup, on her third year."

At this Jungkook's mouth gapes open. "No wonder she said no. What the hell are you doing trying to go out with a third-year?” The accusatory tone spins Jackson's head–he's a sad little puppy with you but a bulldog with him. What a puzzling fellow.

"Same thing you're doing trying to convince someone who doesn't want a relationship to go out with you."

Jungkook dials back his previous assertion. "We're idiots."

"Correction. we're dreamers." Jackson slaps him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go burn some shit up at the internet cafe."

By the time he and Jackson get to the cafe nearly all the computers are taken. It's no surprise since PC Bang's are quite a rave amongst university students like themselves. You can play the hottest games for hours while stuffing yourself full with whatever food's served on the cafe menu–all for a small fee of course.

"Let's go here." Jackson manages to grab two free id cards from the counter–guiding them to two empty PCs, side by side to each other. "How long do you want to play for?"

Jungkook sinks himself in the leather gaming chair and powers on the machine in front of him. "I'm good until 6 pm, but then I should head back to my dorm and do homework."

"Cool, same for me. We'll play for three hours then."

"What should we play?" Jungkook tosses the headset over his ears and scrolls through the game options. Jackson does the same.

"Kinda in the mood for LOL." He flips to the game's screen card. "Gonna need to join a team though."

"No problem.," Jungkook clicks the game on his own pc until the loading screen covers his view. "So many people play League of Legends. We'll be able to find one in no time."

Jackson nods and opens LOL himself. "Let's kick some ass."

"Fuck yeah," Jungkook mumbles, inaudible to everyone but himself.

An hour passes and he and Jackson have been hammering their opponents into the digital abyss. The thrill and surge of adrenaline cause him to forget previous heartaches–aka you. Plus, after finding a team of three to jump into; one member who happens to be female, Jungkook's been able to turn his attention to other prospects.

"Soomin, how long have you been playing LOL for?" Jungkook decides to learn more about his female teammate after claiming the final victory over the opposing team.

"Five years," her raspy voice comes through his headset. It sure is a unique voice, he notes.

"Same. We should play on a team more often. In fact, Jackson and I are thinking about building an official LOL team so we could use a third person. You're really good so if you want, we'd love to have you." Beside him, his friend gives him a confused look. 'We are?' he mouths silently which Jungkook ignores.

"Wait really?" She pauses a moment. "I've never been on a permanent team before. I guess that'd be cool."

"I play late at night sometimes too. Meaning if you ever wanna jump on with me shoot me a message or something."

"Alright, I'll jot down your username."

"Already got yours memorized," he says, a tad more cocky than he meant.

"Damn," she cusses. "You work fast. By the way, do you go to university?"

"Yeah, I go to Seoul National University."

"No way, what year are you? I attend there too. I'm a second-year."

"What?!" He nearly hits the ceiling once the information is disclosed. He had no idea Soomin would be this close and that he could meet her in person. call him eager but should he ask her out? No…he's already made that move with you and look where it left him. He'll ask to hang out first. "We should meet Soomin. As long as you don't mind that I'm a first-year that is," Jungkook chuckle lightly and looks over to Jackson who immediately gives him a double thumbs up.

"Well I'm kinda busy this week but how about next week? Also, if it's good with you, can my boyfriend come?"

Fuck. If this is some kinda joke he'd like to catch a break any time now. Not that he was as intrigued with Soomin as he was, or still is, with you but he definitely thought it was going somewhere!

"You're dating?" Jungkook watches Jackson lower his double thumbs up, frowny face on.

"Yeah, we've been together for a year. Met as classmates." When she giggles Jungkook has the unexpected urge to roll his eyes. Of course, you did, he mutters, just a perfectly peachy coincidence for you two.

"Well that's nice," he says bitterly.

"Oh, I'm sorry Jungkook. He's actually calling me now so I have to go but I'll talk to you soon. And message me when you want to meet. I'll tell my boyfriend about you!"

Great. Jungkook bids her goodbye and she signs off.

"Sorry about Soomin. She seemed cute." Jackson slides his headset off his ears to rest them around his neck. "But you know what? You're still a force to be reckoned with inside the virtual world. I honestly don't know how you do it."

Jungkook grins shyly and slips his headset on the desk. "I've been playing for a long time. Must be something to do with that." He throws a hand over his abdomen when his stomach rumbles at the same time. "We should order food." He browses the cafe's extensive menu on his pc. Nothing but rows and rows of tasty options flash back at him, urging him to spend fortunes.

Still, he's got to cap it at some point with only about 2,000,000 Korean won (about 1,500 USD) in his bank account. The Jeon family is wealthy but Jungkook is not. His parents are especially careful to inform him that generational wealth is not going to be given to him freely. Instead, he is to earn his own money, starting at the car wash which he worked at over the summer.

"I'm getting an order of Tteokbokki and a soju. What about you?" Jackson punches in his order, sparing a glance at Jungkook who's tapping on his keyboard with one hand while the other rests under his chin.

"The Jjajangmyeon looks good. I'll get that with a soju too." After Jungkook enters in his own order he strolls his chair out from under the gaming table. "Do you see a bathroom around here?"

"Yeah, it's all the way to that far right corner." Jackson points in that direction with his thumb.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom.

Jungkook repeats the simple word to himself. He scans the corner Jackson gestured towards earlier but sees nothing except a giant blank wall. Must have meant the opposite direction. He turns himself around to scout the other side of the floor.

"Excuse me sir-" a voice chimes close behind him.

"Oh sorry." He steps aside to let the young lady by and as soon as he does his whole body jerks forward in shock. "__!"

You turn around with the tray of food in your hand in what looks like a work uniform. "Yes, what can I do–Kookie?" You grip the plastic tray firmer to keep it from shaking uncontrollably, though the clamminess of your palms makes it a challenging task. Seeing Jungkook at the place you work was bound to happen being that the PC Bang is close to the university. You just weren't prepared for it to be tonight during one of your last shifts of the season.

"I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, only part-time." After bumping into Jungkook moments ago, you found it inevitable to avoid him further. You agreed to meet him outside once your break started. "I'm planning on leaving before the semester gets crazy. I have about a week left probably."

It dawns on Jungkook that he doesn't know what you study so with shifty eyes and clenched fists, he asks. "What are you going for?"

"Engineering." You can tell he wasn't expecting that for an answer; most don't be a woman in the field and all. "Jungkook, let's not do this. I'm sorry about what happened the other night." A sick queasy feeling settles in your gut–you're well aware you did Jungkook wrong. You're not proud of it in the slightest and him standing in front of you right now only reminds you of your guilt.

"I waited for you __. You said you come even if it was a rejection." A twinge of hurt laces behind his words and he keeps a controlled stance. He doesn't get in your face, demanding for an answer, nor does he break down and cry. He's more inquisitive than anything else. "Where were you? Why didn't you come?"

"I–" You intertwine your fingers, a nervous habit you picked up in childhood. "I panicked Kookie. I'm so sorry."

Jungkook stiffens when he hears the endearing name drop from your soft lips again. It was nice at first but now it feels like a sharp pain twisting in his side, like a thorn only for his misery. "Can you not call me that, please? It's–It's making me uncomfortable."

"Oh god," you lunge forward out of instinct but freeze when he steps back. "Jungkook I really am sorry. I was planning to see you. I had my shoes on and everything. Like I said I panicked, I'm not suited for relationships. And I'm not suited for you."

The last part stings the most.

"But–"

“There’s no buts Jungkook." You place your hand on the door of the building. " I have to get back to work."

"Wait!"Jungkook moves to face in front of you from an angle. "You say you're not suited for relationships but why did you get ready to see me? Why didn't you just say no to me? And last week when you told me you needed more time to think…was it a lie?"

"Because I like you okay? You're cute, protective, sweet, but you like me too much." you release the handle. "You don't know anything about me yet you've already got into a fistfight with an obscene jerk for me and claim you'll wait for me even when you just met me. If you love me this much now how much more will you love me later?"

" I'll love you for eternity."

"See this is it, Jeon. You saying stuff like this before anything real has happened between us–it's too much. How can you be this devoted to basically a stranger? You'll love me for eternity but have you considered that maybe I won't?"

"What are you saying?"

"What makes you think I'll love you as much as you do me?"

" I don't think like that __. I don't want a relationship so I can see what I can get. that's not how my mind works. I understand that I've been very forward with you. I should have been more conscientious about how that would make you feel but when I say that I love–"

"Please, don't drop the 'L' word. If you're saying love then you don't love me; only the idea of me."

Jungkook pauses, wordless

"Never thought of it that way huh? Guess not. Let me ask you something…do you know what I do? With men?"

He swallows and shakes his head no

"I sleep with them. A new guy a week if not twice a week. People call me a whore, and I'm spreading my legs for everyone and anyone willing. Do you want to get involved with someone like that?" You wipe away an escaped tear.

"I don't care about that at all __."

"Well, you should! This is who I am Jungkook. I can't let you be responsible for me. So unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."

"__!" Your manager shoves the front door open, causing you and Jungkook to jolt in surprise. " Where have you been? We have about twenty orders that need to be served."

"Sorry Manager Choi. I'll get right on it." You spare Jungkook one last glance before disappearing back inside the PC Bang. "I'm sorry," you say with a lowered head.

That night Jungkook lays on his bed, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts list. His logical side whispers for him to delete it. His heart says to call, text, or do something to–no. He remembers your pained facial expression; on the verge of tears as you explained to him that he'd been too quick in making his mind up about you. But then he replays your final words.

"…unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."

Well, he doesn't want the first two but if it meant he could be in your life longer–stop. His logical side intrudes. "You don't want to go down that path," he matters to himself. "It's better if you just delete the number." Jungkook moves to tap the trash can icon on your phone contact, a pang in his chest. Just as he's mustered up enough strength his phone buzzes off, screen lighting the entirety of the darkened dorm room. His roommate groans at the sound and rolls over in their bed.

"Jungkook," said roommate rubs his face. "I have an 8:15 tomorrow morning. Please speak take it in the hallway."

Jungkook quietly jumps out of bed not solely because of courtesy to his roommate but also because it's from you.

"Jungkook… can you um…"

"__?" He eases the door shut behind him and paces up and down the hallway. "Are you there?"

"Can you meet me at the bus stop near the campus library/ I'm sorry to be asking you it's just that…Jun-ho's–"

"What is it? Are you okay? What about Jun-ho?"

" I'm taking the bus back from work and he's on the same one he keeps staring at me and I'm scared of following me back to my dorm. Please Kookie-Jungkook I mean. I don't have any right to ask you, I know. He won't try anything with the bus driver here but once I get off I'll be alone. I have some pepper spray in my bag–"

"Yes, yes I'll be right there. How far are you out?" This isn't about pursuing you, impressing you, or anything like that anymore; it's about your safety. Jungkook leaps into his room, grabs his wallet, and shoves the sneakers on his feet. "__? Did you hear me?"

" I'm five minutes from the stop. Oh, he's, he's still staring at me."

"Don't look at him __. I'm walking down right now. Stay on the phone with me. I'll be waiting for you when you get there okay?"

"Thank you Kook. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. If Jun-ho's tracking you down like a wolf, it'll be his funeral." The icy tone in Jungkook's typically warm, milky tone sends a shiver up your spine.

The bus you're on pulls up in exactly five minutes, as you estimated. Jungkook frantically searches for you through the window glass, growling when he sees Jun-ho standing up a few rows behind you. He makes sure to be as close to the bus's exit doors as possible so he can grab your hand as soon as you step out.

"Hey!" He greets you loudly. "How was your shift?"

"Great! We were running around like crazy but thankfully, I didn't have to work through the night." You cling his hand tighter, slinging your other arm around his.

"That's a blessing." Jungkook and you walk faster, putting more space between you and Jun-ho. "You must be tired."

"Oh yeah, I can't wait to slee–ah!" You trip over a ledge on the sidewalk. Jungkook grips you before you completely fall flat on your behind.

"New feet?" He can't help but joke and you slap his arm. Jungkook helps straighten you back up, your hands remain interlocked. When it comes to a split in the road, you and Jungkook filter to the right side towards the female dorms. You hope to god Jun-ho takes the left.

"He's such a fucker." Jungkook curses, peering over his shoulder just enough to see Jun-ho faltering at the intersection. He burns holes at both of you so much that it makes Jungkook feel like kneeing him in the gut but he doesn't want to provoke the bastard–putting you in unpredictable danger. "I'll get you to your dorm. Which one is yours?"

"Up ahead." You gesture at the brick building with the number 318.

"We can let go of our hands now." You're the first to speak after arriving outside your dorm.

Jun-ho thankfully did not follow you any more than back at the split in the path between male and female dorms. The fact that he still attends school here makes your skin crawl. You don't exactly like calling people a mistake but Jun-ho is by far an exception. You messed around with the guy one time while you both were a bit tipsy and he keeps hounding you. If you need to, you will make him stay away from you permanently.

"Promise me you'll get a restraining order on him if this happens again or gets worse." Jungkook ignores your suggestion to release your hands. "That idiot has no right to be around you."

"I will. Thank you for coming out. I was nervous to call you being what happened earlier. I truly, from the bottom of my heart, am sorry. And I know having to go back to work left things hanging so if there's anything else you wanted to talk about or tell me, please feel free."

"Anything for you–" slips out of his mouth before he can stop it. He slaps a hand over his mouth instantly, you chuckle softly.

"It's okay Jungkook," you reassure. "I can tell you wear your heart on your sleeve. You're naturally very accommodating and flattering."

"And you're beautiful. Damnit, I did it again. I'm sorry __, but whenever I look at you I feel butterflies and I say a lot of fluffy stuff. I'm not trying to flirt or impress you by using what can be in the right context, shallow methods. But yeah, I was thinking about what happened at the cafe earlier tonight and I think get it–I've been too quick to the draw. I'm honestly not sure why I'm so attracted to you other than the fact that you're breathtakingly gorgeous in literally every way, both physical and non-physical. It makes me want to know you more. And the fact that assholes like Jun-ho won't leave you alone makes me want to be your personal bodyguard or something. I don't lift as much as him but fuck, I can keep him in his place. I'm starting to sound crazy, aren't I? It's like you said, we're strangers after all…right?"

Jungkook waits for you to respond. The cool autumn air is crisp against your cheeks, not cold enough to see your own breath, but enough to have you secretly grateful for the warmth that comes from his hand. That's right, you've been clinging onto his hand for dear life for the past fifteen or more minutes. You should probably let go now if weren't for the fact that he's also clinging onto yours just as hard.

"You really want to know me Kookie?" You brush a few strands of his hair that have blown in front of his eyes. He's incredibly handsome now…how did you not see it before? Sure he's cute with his bunny-like smile, mole on his button nose, and his adorable voice that makes you oh so soft and comfortable inside. But he's also handsome with his piercing oak tree-colored eyes, perfectly sharp jaw, and eager yet tenacious energy that always seems to show up for you.

Jungkook takes your other hand in his, swinging them between you both. "Of course," his earnest voice chippers. "It’s next to impossible for me not to want to know you. I'm sure I'll eventually move on if that's what you really want, but if there's another alternative that can avoid that I'd like to take it. You seem to be in deep thought about something…" he switches up his response when he notices you don't look as alert as you usually do. “__.”

"I'm here," you say, the tiniest bit dazed. "I was just thinking about something."

"Yeah I know, but about what?"

You swallow before replying. “…You.”

Jungkook smiles sheepishly. You're unsure if he's pleased or nervous. "Is it–is it something good or should we leave it here?"

"Are you free tomorrow?" You bite the inside of your cheek, begging yourself not to take it back. "It's Sunday so I get if you have some last-minute studying to do. Just thought maybe we could do something….together." Jungkook goes to reply, cheeks more than raised but you continue speaking before he sounds a word. "It's not a date per se. I'm being crazy annoying but I'd like to be friends first with something extra."

"You said no to friends before though. This isn't an offer to be friends with benefits is it?"

"That was when I wasn't sure what I wanted with you if anything. I didn't want to take advantage of you or anything. I want to start as friends so we can see if we can somehow be more. I'm interested in you Jungkook so no, not friends with benefits but rather, friends with the potential to be more."

"Okay," Jungkook squeezes your hands. "I can do that. What do you want to do? What time do you want to meet? What do you want me to wear?"

"First of all, if we're going to do this I'm going to need you to treat me like your bro. Wear what you want, we can meet afternoon and we'll figure it what to do along the way." You think your suggestion is fair yet it's crystal clear that it's not ideal for Jungkook, given the pout on his face.

"I don't want you to be my bro though," he whines.

"We start as bros or we're not hanging out." You're firm because you want this to work but you know yourself, and you need to take this slow.

"No wait, okay. Bro it is. You'll be the prettiest bro of mine."

"Jungkook," you snort, undignified. "That sounds weird."

He shrugs, "I'm weird when I'm with my friends. Especially when they're as pretty as you, it makes me all dumb because I can't seem to think straight anymore."

"Alright Romeo," you say, face flushing. "Save the rest for tomorrow."

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

A/N: This was originally going to be three chapters but it will be extended 😶 Lmk what you think and if you wanna to be tagged fill out tag form or ask 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

@hoseokteardrop @skzthinker @igchochi @jksjx

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenarios #fic:lovesremedyonfire #kookslastbutton

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tomatoswup · 11 months

Text

"Can I get a-"

summary: Hi! Welcome to McDonald's! How may I take your order?

warnings/tags: crack!fic, legit just a crack fic, or aCTUALLY A CRACK!DRABBLE☝️☝️ mcdonalds propaganda, big breakfast and hash brown advocation, poor vash trying to work on a normal day, knives fist fighting a customer waffle house style, reader just wants their breakfast ;(

A/N: ....do i have to explain why i wrote this.....i found the whole mcdonalds au one of the funniest things the fandom could've come up with...it wasn't just a need it was a NECESSITY :D

"Order number 32!"

Ah yes, McDonalds at 7 in the morning, the beeps of the orders coming in, the beeping of the machines, and the bustling talking of the customers either sitting and eating or waiting for their orders.

McDonalds was a true staple of cryptic shopping for hunger.

But you could never get enough of their big breakfast and hashbrowns. And like a zombie, sometimes you found yourself in line some mornings before work.

But this morning seemed a bit...off.

"YOU'RE BURNING THE THE FUCKING HASHBROWNS WOLFWOOD!"

"NO I'M NOT!"

You couldn't help but watch a pancake fly in the air as you made your way to the counter. There, you were met with a kind faced worker, a cute one too! Peeking at his name plate that read "Vash", you gave him a soft smile, still feeling a bit tired.

"Hi! How can I help you?" He asked, returning the smile, the McDonalds hat on his head pushing down the tufts of blonde spikes of his, peeking under the hat.

But why was he wearing glasses? It was practically still dark outside...

"Hi, can I get a-"

"EXCUSE ME! WHY DID I NOT GET ANY LARGE FRIES!" Turning your attention to one of the customers right by you, both Vash and you jumped at the sudden slam of a receipt onto the counter to one of the other workers behind it.

A more pale, blonde man stood there, giving the rude customer one of the most stankiest faces you never thought some one could ever give.

If looks could kill, this man definitely could. He looked like he was about to jump over the counter and pounce on the man with the energy he was giving out.

Waffle House style.

"Err, sorry 'bout that.."Vash sweatdropped before looking back at you "What did you want to order?"

"Can I get uh-"

"JESUS FUCK MERYL DO YOU KNOW HOW TO FLIP A SAUSAGE?"

"WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME!? I'VE BEEN WORKING HERE FOR 2 YEARS! YOU'RE THE NEW ONE!"

You took a step back when suddenly, you saw a flash of yellow flying towards the both of you.

WAS THAT AN EGG??

Oh fuc- "FUCK!" You shouted as you ducked, wait did you say duck? Or did you say fuck?

Looking back up, you saw pieces of egg hanging off the back of Vash's head as you put a hand over your mouth.

Oh noo...

"I'm so sorry-"

You got back up on your feet and leaned over to brush off the egg pieces from the back of Vash's head.

"And I thought today was gonna be a normal morning..." Vash exhaustingly sighed.

Suddenly, you heard a scuffle behind you, chairs moving and things toppling over.

What was going on!

Turning around, you watched as Nai fist fought the customer, chairs flying everywhere as Nai tackled the man into a table.

"HEY HEY KNIVES IS FIGHTING!!" You heard someone scream from the back before the influx of McDonalds workers came running from behind the counter, jumping over or going through the door entrance to aid him.

"GET HIS ASS KNIVES!"

"GET HIM OFF!"

"Oh we're getting sued..."

You couldn't help but just watch on, mouth agape at what just happened in the matter of 1 hour, before looking back at Vash, who kept his place behind the register, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

"I'm so so sorry...Honestly, I can give you a free apple pie because of all this..." He apologized, shoulders drooping down.

"Oh um, it's okay, really." You couldn't help but chuckle "Rough morning huh?"

Maybe you should come back another day.

...At least the cashier was cute..

#vash x reader #trigun imagines #trigun headcanons #trigun #vash imagine #trigun stampede x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun mcdonalds au #meryl stryfe #trigun maximum headcanons #their hashbrowns is the best thing on the menu #they got milly working drive through and yeah #its backed tf up

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ourloveisforthelovely · 10 months

Text

House of Black Part 6

Regulus Black AU

Request: Regulus and his wife are raising Sirius’ daughter after he ends up in Azkaban. Now after his escape Sirius comes to them to thank them and get to know his daughter.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader. Former Sirius x Reader

Link to Part 5

Rating: M- smut

____

Sirius waited until Abby was out of the room before speaking. Remus had gone back about whatever he was doing and acted as if nothing weird and uncomfortable just happened.

“So, are you going to say anything about any of that?”

Sirius questioned, feeling his temper building. Remus turned around with a raised eyebrow.

“What would you like me to say?”

Sirius scratched his head before sitting down.

“Oh, I don't know…maybe You just had your ass handed to you Sirius or Sirius, I’m awfully sorry that your kid hates you.”

Remus rolled his eyes. It was time for dramatic Sirius to make his entrance.

“Don’t you think that you are being a tad over dramatic?”

Sirius’ mouth dropped.

“Dramatic? I’m being dramatic?! Excuse me!”

Remus decided it was time to cut in.

“Yes, you are being dramatic. If you were expecting Abby to suddenly accept you and act as if nothing happened then you are crazy. Sirius, you need to accept the fact that this is a lot for a 13-year-old girl to take in. Up until a few months ago, she was used to it just being Regulus and Y/n that she had to answer to. Now you are into the mix and it's a lot for a child. Sirius, you owe both Regulus and Y/n a few thousand thank yous.”

Sirius was silent for a moment. He hated admitting that Remus was right but he was. Sirius did owe both Regulus and yourself a lot.

“Damn it, Remus. Why do you always have to be right? I just hate having to face that snarky look on Regulus’ face when I thank him.”

Remus shook his head. Why he was slightly surprised that Sirius was acting like this was beyond him. Sirius always hated telling Regulus thank you or that he was right about something. That was most likely one of those things that would never change.

“Yes, you should. As Abby told you, you are also lucky to still have your brother. This is a chance for the two of you to hash out your differences and be brothers again. I would take it if I were you.”

Sirius sat back down and lost himself in his thoughts. Maybe Remus was right. This was a chance to work out his differences with Regulus. The only question was how would he go about it?”

“The next thing I know you are going to tell me to let go of the fact that I’m jealous of seeing Y/n so happy with Regulus.”

Remus leaned back in his chair.

“Since you brought it up…whatever you think can and would happen between Y/n and yourself…just don’t. Y/n loves Regulus and she won’t leave him. You burned that bridge a long time ago. If you try anything to mess with them I will take you out back and beat you.”

Sirius stared at Remus with wide eyes before nodding. While Sirius would agree to Remus’ demands, that didn’t mean that he wouldn't internally groan every time Regulus touched you in front of him.

“Okay, okay…I’ll be good.”

(meanwhile)

You were barely awake when there was a knock on the door. Regulus groaned before getting up and quickly dressing. You followed his lead and made the bed.

“If it’s Sirius, I swear I will punch him.”

Regulus grumbled as he opened the door. He was relieved to see Abby and Harry on the other side of the door. Abby looked annoyed while Harry was clearly on edge himself. Regulus couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. Both of their lives were now in an uproar that neither asked for.

“Did he run you lot off that quickly? Not that I blame either of you for leaving. Being in the same room with him made me want to fight.”

Abby walked into the bedroom and sat down on the bed with a frown on her face while Harry moved to the window. You couldn’t help but smirk at the visible resemblance between Abby and Regulus when they were annoyed at the same person. Turning your attention to Harry, you couldn’t help but think about how much he reminded you of James standing there.

Like Regulus, you too worried about how much having Sirius back in your lives and the new upcoming war with Voldemort would throw Harry and Abby’s lives into a complete tailspin?

“No…maybe…Remus told me to come find you both since other members of their Order possy are turning up. I did tell Sirius off a bit. He seemed slightly surprised.”

Regulus couldn’t help the smirk.

“You told him off?”

Abby chose to not mention the fact that she told Sirius about the horocrux. She would let Regulus assume that Remus let that ball drop on Sirius.

“Just that he owes you and mum a lot. There were some other things too but that isn’t important right now. What is important is how are we going to get along with the members of the Order that don’t like us…for whatever reason.”

Regulus briefly considered asking Abby “what other stuff” were said but decided to focus more on the lot of people that he was stuck in a house with. The last thing that Regulus really wanted to do was be involved with the order, however, he knew there was little choice. Regulus would much rather just things the four of you, just like they had been for so long.

The four of us.

That was exactly how it had been for some time. After inheriting Harry, “the three of us” became “the four of us” and that had always been enough for Regulus.

“Things will be just fine. It will take some getting used to but we’ll manage.”

You said, in a calming tone before going over to fix Abby’s hair. She looked up at you with a frown.

“That means that we have to be nice and social?”

She questioned, making you giggle. It didn’t matter that she was actually Sirius’ daughter…she acted just like Regulus.

“The two of you really have no chill.”

You replied. Regulus and Abby exchanged a frown that said “we hate people.”

“No, I just don’t like anyone down there. I didn’t like them as a kid and that really hasn’t changed now. I also haven’t forgotten that they all essentially ignored our presence until Harry and Abby became friends with Ron. Over the years, they could have at least checked in or remotely acted nice. I also haven’t really forgotten that they were supposed to be your friends. Friends don’t do each other the way that they dropped you like a bad habit.”

Regulus grumbled. He would forever have a slight dislike for every member of the order for how they treated you. It didn’t matter if Regulus was a death eater or not, they were your friends and should have been there for you.

How you were so kind and full of grace amazed Regulus. Your grace and dignity. That was two of the many things that Regulus loved about you. Even if someone did you down right dirty, most of the time you still acted with kindness. That didn’t mean that you wouldn’t put someone in their place if they needed to be, however.

“Dad is right. Mum.”

Abby replied, casually.

You turned your attention back to Regulus giving him a wary look. Abby calling the two of you “Mum” and “Dad” again had to be her way of asserting that the two of you being her parents would not change simply because Sirius was now in the mix.

“Right or not, we can’t just go down there and act like complete assholes.”

“Oh, I can.”

Regulus grumbled. You turned your attention to Harry, choosing to ignore Regulus’ comment.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

Harry shrugged.

“A bit uncomfortable, I guess.”

Regulus only had to agree with Harry on that one. This whole experience was about to be uncomfortable as hell.

“We might as well get this over with.”

Regulus murmured.

As expected, the dinner was an awkward meeting from hell. You found yourself sitting silently while members of the original Order carried on as if Regulus and yourself weren’t even there. You nearly made a comment a few times but decided not to. It didn’t seem to be worth it. Only Remus and Sirius made efforts to speak to the two of you. Regulus ignored both sitting in icy silence.

Both Molly and Arthur seemed almost afraid to speak to the two of you. Not that you really blamed them. From where they were sitting both Regulus and yourself had to seem pretty intimidating. Neither of you looked especially friendly. The two of you had to look like the stereotypical members of the House of Black at the moment…cold, icy, and haughty.

You were still a bit bitter about Molly abandoning your friendship when you married Regulus. Speaking to Molly about anything other than the children was almost too painful. You were not about to admit to Molly nor anyone else in the Order that they had hurt you. Old wounds were best left unspoken of and left in the dark. It seemed best, to you, to appear as if their abandonment really caused you no emotional harm at all. If there were one thing that you learned from having Walburga Black as a mother-in-law it would be to be able to hide your true emotions like a champ.

For Regulus, the dinner was just as awkward for him as it was for you…even if he didn’t let on. He, like you, was also thankful that his family taught him the art of being stoic and appearing “unfeeling.” It didn’t matter how many times Sirius nor anyone else, for that matter, tried to speak to him or appeared to try to get a rise out of him Regulus didn’t crack.

He wasn’t sure why anyone in The Order wanted anything to do with him anyway? To them, he was a death eater. He was dangerous. It didn’t matter the good that he did. It wouldn’t matter that he nearly died trying to stop Lord Snakeface. So what if Regulus wrecked his body trying to stop Voldemort? None of it would make any difference to anyone in this room (except you). In The Order’s eyes, Regulus would always be “tainted.”

“And in a way, I suppose that I am just fine with that.”

Regulus thought coldly. He would much rather someone hate him for some hair-brained stupid idea than blow smoke up his ass and pretend to care for him.

The next morning, Regulus sat at the kitchen table reading The Daily Prophet when Sirius came into the room. He didn’t look up from the newspaper as his older brother sat down. Regulus quietly tried to focus on the words in front of him instead of thinking about the last time that he and Sirius were in this room together.

The morning before he left…before everything changed…

Sirius, meanwhile, sat quietly for a moment. He wanted to say something to Regulus. The silence was making him nutty!

“So, don’t speak to me all at once.”

Sirius finally commented. Regulus didn’t look up from the newspaper.

“What would you like me to say?”

He questioned, keeping his voice cold and emotionless. Sirius ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, Reggie. Just say something, anything. This silence…I don’t like it. You can tell me that you hate me if you want.”

Regulus still didn’t look up. The annoyance of Sirius calling him “Reggie” was starting to simmer.

“My name is Regulus. Don’t ever call me Reggie again, if you want to live.”

Regulus’ casual threat didn’t bother Sirius much. As kids, Regulus threatened to kill Sirius at least once a day. Being an adult and doing it seemed to be no different.

“Y/n calls you Reggie.”

Sirius commented.

“Y/n is my wife. She can call me anything that she likes. You…well we both know what you are to me.”

Sirius groaned.

“Right, I’m the blood traitor. I’m the one who shamed the most ancient and noble house of Black…blah blah blah I’m a no-good bastard that ran off and left everything to you.”

“Now I don’t have to say it.”

Regulus replied. He half expected Sirius to start yelling at that. When he didn’t Regulus took a breath.

“I wasn’t going to say any of that because none of its true. You made your choice because that was what was best for you. It didn’t matter if that meant leaving me in this house and making me feel as if I truly meant nothing at all to you. My suggestion is just to let all of that shit go because I don’t want to say anything more about it.”

Sirius sighed. There it was. That was the truth that he needed to hear. He did hurt Regulus and Regulus hadn’t forgotten it.

“It wasn’t to hurt you. I would have taken you with me but I knew that you wouldn’t go. That’s why you were the good son.”

Regulus finally looked up from his newspaper.

“Sirius, I said that I do not want to talk about what happened. It's over and time we both moved on. Neither Y/n nor Abby needs the aggravation.”

Sirius remained quiet for a moment.

“Abby said that I owe both Y/n and yourself a few thousand thank yous for everything and she’s right. I appreciate you taking her in and looking after her…”

Regulus only nodded.

“I would hope that you would have done the same for me, had shoes been on the other foot.”

“You know that I would. Regulus, I get that we aren’t best buddies anymore but you are still my brother. I also know that I did Y/n wrong with the whole getting another girl pregnant but…she seems genuinely happy with you. I think that we both know that I would never have made any kind of a decent husband. She deserves to be happy.”

Regulus again looked up. Sirius was definitely right about that one. You deserved to be happy more than anyone else in the world.

“Yes, she does deserve to be happy and I’m happy that I am able to be the one to make her happy.”

Sirius leaned back in his chair and looked around the kitchen.

“Tell me that mum and dad were halfway decent to her.”

Regulus finally gave up on reading his newspaper and sat it down. There was no way that he was going to escape Sirius.

“Believe it or not, I think that Mum and Dad liked her better than she did either of us. I think that they felt awfully shitty about her family disowning her for loving me. They saw it as an act of revenge for stealing a Potter child since the Potters got you. Dad adored her. He said that she was the one bright spot in our family and I couldn’t agree more. Marrying her was the one thing that I did to make that man proud.”

Before Sirius could respond, Abby walked into the room. She gave Sirius a wary look before going over to Regulus.

“Where is mum?”

Regulus turned to Abby, raising an eyebrow at her seemingly nervous demeanor.

“She went shopping to get some things to brighten this haunted house up a bit. She should be home soon. What’s wrong?”

Abby chewed on her bottom lip. She looked between Regulus and Sirius before speaking again.

“Can you call her and have her come home?”

“Abby, what is it?”

Regulus asked, keeping his voice calm and even. Abby muttered a few words quietly and all crammed together. Regulus blinked a few times.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Sirius decided to try his hand.

“I know that I am getting old but I did not hear a word of that.”

Abby finally groaned.

“I got my period, okay?!”

She turned and stormed from the room without another word. Sirius’ mouth dropped while Regulus acted as if nothing happened.

“So do we take her to the hospital?”

Sirius finally asked as he stood up to pace around the room. Regulus rolled his eyes and shoved his newspaper away. This morning just kept getting better! All Regulus wanted to do was read the newspaper in peace. That definitely wasn’t happening now.

“Tell me that you don’t know a thing about women without telling me that you don’t know a thing about women. I’ll handle this while you be the designated basket case of stupid.”

Sirius only nodded.

“Regulus, I owe you one.”

Regulus stood up and moved to walk out of the room.

“You owe me a few thousand things.”

_____

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @georgeweasleydumbhoe @justfinishthis @fific7 @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @criminalyetminimal @siriuslyceleste @goldendustwoman @littleshadow17 @livshifts @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @bxcndd @stelleduarte @millies0bsimp @coffeeaddictednymph @readtomeregulus @saramaple @missgorldafirst @i-love-scott-mccall @s-we-e-t-t-ea @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @buttercup-beeee @f4iryluvy @panpride @bennyberry @gugggu6gvai @yousmellllikecaca @quinis @mentally-unstable-hoe @daddyslittlevillain @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @ad-astra-again @dumybitch @marichromatic @melaninnbarbie @ravenhood2792 @play-morezeppelin @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @rubyroscoe1 @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @knight-of-gleefulness @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deanwherescas @mycuddlycorner @padf00ts-l0ver @un-lovesherself

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atzfilm · 2 years

Text

clair de lune (m); part four

genre; yandere, vampire!au, reincarnation! au angst, smut

pairing; ot8/f.reader

word count: 10.1k

summary; you’ve finally gotten the chance to enter “clair de lune”, a infamous night club to see the band hiraeth. but why did you feel like their eyes only watched you?

note: this first deals with the subject of yandere. with that being said, a lot of the things happening in this fiction will be manipulation, gaslighting, and various other techniques displayed by the characters. if you are not comfortable with that, please do not read.

please don’t reblog with harsh criticism!! not needed or wanted ♡

my bestie calzone read this and helped with grammar <33 LOVE U !! @hongism

part three | part five

chapter four:

content; manipulation, gaslighting, obsessive behavior, age gap, murder, blood, injuries, dark subjects, weapons, emotional manipulation, panic attack, gunshot wound, blood, murdering/referenced murder, blood drinking, cursing, smut: fingering, dry humping

“Please tell me you’re okay.”

You slowly open your eyes, body sluggish as you lift your head. Your lids are heavy, slowly blinking. You can feel the harsh restraint of your wrists tied together, a tug only making it worse. You swallow, mouth dry as you glance around the room. It’s dark. You strain as you glance around, seeing a shadow of a person just across from you. Your heart picks up its pace, feet sliding against the floor to push you further away from them.

“No, no. It’s me,” his voice is hoarse, the sound of chains decorating his words. “It’s Mingi. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“Mingi?” Your mind is still scattered, thoughts jumbled together. Mingi. Oh, Mingi. The previous conversation echoes in your head, the residual anger still resting deep in your heart. But your fear of what’s happening right now prevents it from bubbling to the surface. You’re still deeply afraid and hurt from what Mingi has not been telling you, but it’s not exactly the right time to hash out your differences. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, groaning softly. “Somewhere at their bar, maybe? House? I can see in the dark, but it’s all gray around us. Looks like they threw us in a basement. It’s been a few hours since you’ve been unconscious. I woke up here, but I can guess we’ve been here for almost ten hours.”

Ten. Hours.

The number causes a shiver to roll down your spine. You’ve been stuck in a basement for almost half a day. You’ve read about situations like this, watched it on TV. But none of it has prepared you for reality. The restraint around your hands prevents you from moving your wrists too much, but there’s nothing on your legs. You’re trying not to make yourself panic, taking slow breaths.

“I’m going to die here, aren’t I?” You don’t mean to say it out loud, body shivering. “We’re going to die here, Mingi.”

“Stop,” his voice is harsh, almost seething. “You are not dying. No one is going to kill you.”

“They tied us up. They’re going to play around with us a bit then kill us. Hanse shot at me. If you weren’t there—” You stop yourself, the panic settles in. “I don’t know what to do.” You think back to Mingi on the ground in a pool of blood, unconscious. “Are you okay?”

Silence.

“Mingi?”

There’s a light chuckle from the dark figure across from you. You watch as his body shakes with laughter, head falling forward. “You’re not upset?”

“I’m allowed to be worried and upset with you at the same time,” you say, eyeing the shadow across from you. “My words from before still ring true. I’m still fucking pissed. But we have bigger things to worry about now. We can figure out our issues later.”

“Why? So that we can go home with you still packing and running away from us?”

He’s touching a nerve. The ache on your side seems to be as livid as you are listening to him egg you on. You don’t respond, sliding your body back so that you’re resting against the cool wall. A low hum from somewhere in the basement starts up. You hope it’s heat. “I don’t have enough energy within me to reason with you, Mingi.”

“Hundreds of years have passed and you’re still as tenacious as before.”

“You know what?” You move your body, hissing at your wound. “Fuck you. Call me whatever name you want, I don’t care. Just know that it isn’t helping your case, it’s only making me hate you more.”

“You don’t hate me.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t,” He’s persistent, you’ll give him that. “You’re just confused.”

“Ah, yes. Please continue to explain my feelings like every other partner I’ve had does.”

“I’m not…” he huffs. “That’s not what I’m trying to do. I know that you’re upset with me, with us. For hiding things from you. It isn’t right, we shouldn’t be doing it. The reason we want to explain it together is because we’ve all lived it differently. You’ve grown closer to Jongho and Yeosang in comparison to the rest of us, so I’m sure you’re learning things from them that you can’t with me, or Yunho, or anyone else. We like to talk things through together. Decisions are made together. So when you ask me about the past, it’s hard for me to explain it because there’s parts that I’m missing. Things that I say might come out differently than I’d like. I’m not trying to lie to you on purpose.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow, turning to him. “Then tell me about that wall of faces.”

“I can’t, you know that.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

He adjusts himself. “Both.”

“Then this little speech you just did isn’t going to work. You say that I don’t hate you, so how do you explain why I’m pissed? Hm? Because I’m pretty sure it’s because I don’t like you.”

“We hurt you. I hurt you. But it doesn’t mean that you hate us. You’re just disappointed.”

“I am,” you say, tucking your arms closer to your body. “I don’t know why I’d even have expectations when I don’t really know you. And I’m not sure why I feel like crying every time one of you speaks to me. It’s like I don’t have control of my emotions when I’m around you. I don’t like how you make me feel. I don’t…” you huff, looking away. “I don’t like it, Mingi.”

You can’t see his face and you’re glad for it, knowing you’d break if you made eye contact.

“I’m sorry things turned out this way. And I’m sorry that my mistakes hurt you. It wasn’t right. It still isn’t right.”

His voice cracks. You close your eyes, turning your body away from his shadowy one. The tears burn against your cheeks. You wipe your face against your arm, body shaking. No. You’re not going to let his words get to you. No matter how distraught his voice sounds. You tuck your legs close to you, ignoring the pain throbbing on your side. It feels bandaged; Hanse or one of the others must have taken care of it. Speaking of them, where the hell are they? Mingi probably knows, but you’d rather not get into a discussion with him right now. It’ll lead to a forgiveness you’re just not ready for. Not until you talk to the rest of them and figure out exactly what’s going on.

“Are we going to sit in silence?” He asks.

“As long as we have to,” you murmur back, closing your eyes.

Minutes pass. The darkness is getting to you, prickling at your skin as you huff. He must be used to it; not even a hint of sound comes from him. No shuffling or anything of the sort. He never quite answered your question about him being okay.

“Do you heal fast?” You ask, breaking your own rule.

“Hm?”

“The shot, Mingi. You were on the ground, unconscious. Did you heal quickly?”

There’s a pause. You think he’s not going to answer until he clears his throat, adjusting his body. “Not necessarily. I didn’t think it would hurt me until I realized they laced the bullet with a chemical that hurts vampires. It’s why I’m not breaking out of this basement, they tied me up with it.” You hear a tug then a low hiss as he moves. “I just fed so I can survive for a bit without blood. But this will lower that time pretty quick.”

“How quick?"

“Two days at most.”

“What will happen then? Will you just die?” You’ve seen enough death in the past day for a lifetime. Mingi dying while you’re across from him only makes your stomach uneasy. He can’t die. No matter how furious you are… you don’t want it to happen.

“No,” he says. “It’s complicated. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, I just don’t want you to be afraid of what may happen to me.”

“I want to be ready,” you respond.

“I won’t start decaying like humans do. It will start slowly. Your mind begins to imagine things that are not there. You slowly lose parts of yourself; your humanity, your memories. It’ll make me more animal than human. We’ve learned how to control ourselves around humans, but it wasn’t always this way. We all struggled for years to resist killing every human we see. It will take everything within me to not hurt you. These restraints won’t matter anymore,” his voice is distraught as he speaks about it. Words wary. “But it won’t get to that.”

“You don’t know that,” your voice is low.

“I don’t.”

“Then what do we do?”

He sighs, “I… I don’t know, y/n. Just don’t come near me, alright? No matter what I say or do. Just stay over there. Please.”

“Okay.” The hum is most definitely not heat, a cool breeze tickling your skin. Even if you wanted to stick closer to him to get warm you can’t. You tuck your head down, desperately trying to warm yourself up with only your breath.

Hours must have passed. You’ve barely moved from your spot, too cold to stand. Mingi hasn’t said a word either. Has he dozed off? Has the cold gotten to him like it has to you?

“Walk around for a bit,” His voice is muffled, probably tucked into his arm. “It’ll help you warm up. Got to keep yourself moving or you’ll freeze to death.”

“Pretty sure I already have,” you closed your eyes, lids heavy. A bit shocking since you’ve already slept for most of the day. A little more sleep shouldn’t hurt.

“Don’t sleep,” Mingi says. Oh, you must have said it out loud. “Ever watch one of those survival documentaries? Sleeping doesn’t really end well.”

You slowly lift your head, pressing your hands against the concrete floors as you steady yourself. It’s rough, your body aches in pain as you stand. You let out a long breath, arms cracking as you stretch. In all honesty even standing makes you feel better. But you don’t tell that to Mingi of course, pacing back and forth along the far wall. You wonder a bit why they didn’t tie up your legs and only your wrists. But questioning their motives will only make you more frustrated. And the dress you’re wearing isn’t doing any favors, your feet entangling in the shreds at the bottom.

“Tell me a story,” you say after about a minute or so of pacing, glancing at his shadow. “Don’t want that mind of yours to go numb in the silence.”

“So, you do care?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Yes, I care about not being eaten today.”

You can only imagine how his eyes roll at your remark. His shadow moves, adjusting himself against the wall. If it were different you would have stuck by his side. If it were different, you’d make sure the bullet was already out of him. But things aren’t different, so you keep to your pacing, glancing at the shadow ever so often.

“I don’t have many stories.”

“You’ve lived for hundreds of years and don’t have one?” You raise a brow.

“They… I wasn’t a good person, y/n. The stories I tell will only make you think less of me.”

“More than I do now?”

“You’re trying to start an argument.”

“Anything to keep your mind still working.”

He laughs, “I’ll give you that. I have a few stories that aren’t too bad. But it involves Rose. I know you’re not too fond of hearing about her. But it’s pretty much the only thing that I have.”

It’s not that you don’t like hearing about her. It’s interesting to think that you had a life before this one. The comparisons are what get to you. Mindlessly listening to them call you Rose without thinking, speaking to or about you as if you’re her. It’s gotten better since you’ve spoken to them about it, but the thought that when their gazes meet yours, they see their old lover- that would hurt anyone. Even if you were just a friend to them. A quick toss and turn in your thoughts, you nod, encouraging him to speak. Thankfully he has his eyes on you.

“Rose was always quite stubborn,” he starts. “Why are you looking over here like that? Remember that it’s her, not you.”

“Yea, yea.” You’re allowed to feel a bit bitter for your former self. She’s gotta have someone defending her! “You may continue.”

“Anyway,” he clears his throat. “She was often right; I’ll give her that. But…”

“Darling,” Mingi towers over you, a crate of vegetables resting just behind you. You stare up at him in a pout, eyes narrowed. If you weren’t so angry he’d steal a kiss from you, his gaze flicking to them before meeting your eyes once more. Ah, the shift of focus only seemed to anger you. “It’s best if you rest. It’d be a tragedy if you wounded yourself.”

“I am a woman, my love. Not a child. I can tow a few wooden crates across the dock.”

“You can,” he agrees. “But you know why you mustn’t. Someone may spot you—”

“We are so far from home—”

“It’s still a possibility,” He steps forward, holding your face in his hands. Your cheeks are crushed as you glower up at him, groaning in aggravation as he presses a chaste peck to your lips. “I want you safe, you know that right?”

“I do. But using the defense of not wanting me to be hurt is such a scoundrel thing to utter. You know that I can handle myself on my own,” You press a finger into his chest for emphasis. He nods, your eyes only narrowing further. “Are you patronizing me?”

“I love you.”

“That does not answer the question, smelly man.”

His laugh is boisterous, shaking as he presses you deeper into his chest. You cannot be upset with him for long, the large frame of his holding anything but meanness. Which only makes you angry that it’s difficult to be angry with him. You sigh low, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“I’d never do such a thing, darling.”

“Wonderful. Now let me go. I may suffocate before we make it to my destination if you hold me any longer.”

His hold tightens, “Not until you say you love me back.”

“Mingi!” You try to wrestle out of his grip, but he doesn’t dare to let go. You laugh, shifting your face up to look at his. Chin resting against his chest, your gazes meeting each other’s. “You’re such an asshole.”

He gasps, eyes widening. “A lady shouldn’t say such vulgar words, you know. And that isn’t going to make me let go.”

“I love you, Song Mingi,” you say simply, pinching his side. “Now unhand me you big stinky man!”

“Not too long after that she persuaded me to let her help. It took a bit of pushing, but it worked in the end. I could never quite say no to her,” he shifted. “In many things.”

It’s easy to read between his words, especially the shift in tone. You continue to pace, glancing at the dark shadow against the wall every few seconds.

“What? We were pirates, there wasn’t much to do while we were sailing the sea.”

You stick out your tongue. “Nasty.”

“Nasty?” You can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks. “She was the one who initiated it the most. Perhaps you might want to do some deep digging in that brain of yours.”

The lights flick on. You wince, the brightness blinding you for a moment. After wiping your eyes and blinking a few times, look around the room. Mingi is right in his assessment; the room was bare, a dark gray painting the walls around you. It was big enough that you had enough room to walk without getting near him. But that wasn’t the issue.

Mingi’s eyes meet yours. He’s still wearing the same clothes as before, though it’s covered in rips and holes. The largest one, where he was shot, covers the side of his torso. His chest is rising and falling slowly, face bruised up and bloody just like the rest of him.

You rush over to him, dropping to your knees and tilting your head to look at the wound.

“You said you were okay, but this looks the opposite of okay to me,” you glare at him, eyes flicking back to the wound. The hole seems to pulse, the black veins spreading across his torso slowly.

“It’s nothing, so go back to pacing,” he says. Of course, you ignore his words. It looks horrible. You’ve never seen a gunshot wound in person, but you’re sure this is on the extremely unsafe side of healing. Whatever chemical they laced it with is doing numbers on him.

Mingi sighs. “You’re worried.”

“I am worried.”

“There’s no reason to be,” he says, pulling your attention away from examining the wound. “It’ll go away once I take it out. So, go back to pacing.” He repeats the words, though you ignore them once more.

“And how are you going to do that?” You say, “Mingi, it looks like it’s tearing through you. Just because I’m upset with you doesn’t mean I’d want you to suffer this way. If you claim to know me as well as you do, then you’d know how this would upset me.”

He doesn’t say anything for a brief moment. It’s not like he can reach out for you, his hands restrained. Instead, you feel the touch of his hand against your ankle. A slow stroke, nothing too much. But even with the slightest touch, you’re a bit comforted. But just a bit.

“I just need to take it out then I’ll be fine, y/n. I already told you that you can’t be near me, alright? You’re too close,” his eyes are no longer on yours, instead the wound on your side. “Not exactly the best spot to be when you have dried blood on your shirt. So please move away,” his voice is lower, head slumping to the side. “Please.”

With great hesitance, you back away from him. He lets out a sigh of relief, thanking you with his gaze. Nothing on him is healing. His face is still bloody, and his wound just continues to spill onto the floor. You know what you can do, but Mingi insists that it’s a bad idea. So, you go back to your walking, arms swinging in front of you. The situation is humorous, once you think about it. Mingi cannot move from his spot and yet beckons you with his eyes despite his words, and you don’t want to be next to him, though the only way you can think of helping is doing exactly that.

“Your brain is close to exploding if you continue making that face,” he says. Your eyes flick to him, frowning. “You can be as angry as you’d like. Just keep your distance.”

“I just want to help—”

“You can’t.”

“I know that,” you murmur. “I can try to pull it out. That will help, won’t it?”

He swallows slowly. “It’s possible. But we’re not at that point yet. We still have time. The others could be right outside, and we don’t even know it.”

His resistance is only maddening. “I know why you won’t let me help, but if we wait longer it’ll be harder for me to go over there. Especially with you losing yourself.”

“Why don’t you just listen to me when I say that I’m okay?” His tone is more annoyed now, eyes shifting to you. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m fine? Repeating myself over and over is just going to make the time pass slower.”

“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” He paces back and forth across from you, glancing at your figure. “If you just let me aid you, then—”

“I told you countless times, love,” Your breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling quickly. They’ve reiterated that there is no need for breathing since you’ve turned into this being, but you cannot bother to care. “My mouth will not be filled with another’s blood. I refuse it.”

“Then you would rather die?” Mingi stops, brows furrowed. “You would rather end your life here than continue to spend it with us?”

“This form of mine is not natural,” you insist, “We as humans are to die a normal death, not stay forever. Hell is on Earth already, why would I want to linger longer? I have lost everything.”

“You still have us. Is that not enough?” Mingi steps closer to you, crouching on your side. Your senses are heightened now, the smell of blood lingering on his figure. If you look closely, you can see a bit of it still beneath his mangled fingertips. “Are we not enough?”

“Don’t make me answer that,” your voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes, are they just the same as yours? If you do not die, will you have to wear darkened glasses your whole existence? Unable to meet the gaze of others in fear that they may torture you? “I was forced into this life. Do not expect me to enjoy it. I cannot even… I cannot even desire the taste of fruit anymore. The one indulgence I have given myself since my family perished. He has taken everything from me.”

“It was a mistake—”

“Do not lie to me,” you sit up, gaze down to him. Fear crosses his face as you meet his eyes. “He could not hide the pleasure in his eyes before he bit me. He took it upon himself to make the decision for me. You know that I did not want this, Mingi. So do not ask me to pretend. I won’t.”

“Then…” his voice is hush, hands reaching for yours. You let him have his time, his moment of vulnerability with you. He rests his head against your hands. Your Song Mingi was always a warm man, consistently testy about the temperature on the ship. But as your hand caressed his skin, all you felt was bitter cold. “What can I do?”

You close your eyes, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead.

“You can let me die. And you can tell him to never see me again.”

You stop your strides. The feeling of fear resting in your gut every time they mentioned you wanting to be a vampire finally made sense. Rose didn’t want to be one. She never did. One of them… one of the guys turned her into one. And that fear only surmounts when you realize that they’ve been looking for you for centuries. What makes you think that they wouldn’t try the same thing again?

Has everything been a lie? Made up? Have you underestimated their obsession with you? You thought it was more of a reunion for them to see the reincarnation of their partner again, but somehow you’re not sure if that’s accurate. You can’t hide it; you care about them more than you’d like to admit. But being manipulated into it makes you want to vomit. And there’s still that important, lingering question:

Which one of them turned you into a vampire?

It could not possibly be Mingi; you cared for him too much in that brief memory. Could it have been one of them? Or was it someone from Subin’s family? Sejun?

Your head throbs at all the possibilities. You don’t have enough information to even vaguely guess who it is. And you doubt you will until the last moment, when it’s too late. You can’t run away either, you’re in too deep to turn around. Going back home will only bring chaos there. There aren’t any options left but to stay.

“You alright?”

It seems like that’s all the two of you can do, ask each other the same question over and over again. You glance at him for a brief moment, his brows slowly furrowing. You liked it better when you couldn’t see his face. Makes you feel a little less trapped in the situation.

“I know.” You say simply.

You’ve never seen someone’s face filled with so much fear. It’s brief, barely a second. But it’s enough to make you panic. Your heartbeat picks up its pace as you move to the farthest corner of the room, keeping an eye on him.

“What do you know?”

“What do you think, Mingi?” You eye him.

“I’m not playing a guessing game with you right now,” Despite how harsh his tone is, he doesn’t move his gaze from you. As if wanting to coax the answer out. You don’t take the bait of course. There’s many things they’re hiding. Perhaps this vagueness could be used for your gain. "Just tell me."

"Ah, so you want to know my secrets?" You sit in the corner, shutting your eyes briefly at the throbbing pain. It's not deep, but enough to bother you every time you touch it. You search your mind for something to grab on, something that'll make him tell you things you don't know. Hongjoong would be too obvious, especially with the way he protects the man. So, you go for the easy target.

"I know about Wooyoung."

His face seems to grow paler. "What? What did you see?"

You say nothing at that, knowing that if you start up he'll quickly figure out you’ve learned nothing new about him. He seems to take your silence for an answer, swallowing deeply.

“It was a mistake.”

“You say that often, don’t you,” you raise your brow, rubbing your cheek with your shoulder.

“He…” Mingi pauses. “Wooyoung has dealt with a lot. His past trauma got to him. Things just happen, y/n. Things we can’t control. He just has more than the rest of us. You can blame him for whatever you like, but he’s troubled. You learn to get used to it.”

He’s speaking vague enough to tiptoe the line, not giving you enough to pinpoint exactly what he’s saying. You’re not sure if he’s being this unclear to pull it out of you, or to see if you understand what he’s talking about. There are some things that you know of Wooyoung that Mingi may not know you do. Will that make him speak up?

“Right,” you nod. “Just like he turned Yeosang? Because he can’t control himself?”

Mingi stares at you. “We don’t talk about that.”

“And why not? Pretending it didn’t happen doesn’t make it go away. I don’t agree with all of you being the blame for someone’s own actions, but he has to take responsibility. And you all have to enforce it. Yeosang didn’t want to be a vampire. I… Rose, she didn’t want to be one either. And they were both forced into it. It only makes me think that—” you don’t say it. Being put in this position is your fault and you know it. If you just waited until you were safe, you could have argued with Mingi. You wouldn’t be stuck in this basement with someone you’re sure is senseless. Even arguing now isn’t exactly what you should be doing. Keeping his favor so that you can leave unharmed and run is.

“Wooyoung didn’t want to be alone,” Mingi says after a brief pause. “There was nothing we could do. Yeosang was his best friend, y/n. He couldn’t fathom a life without him. He shouldn’t have done what he did. That we all agree on, even Wooyoung himself. But what were we to do? Let Yeosang starve himself? He’s our friend, our family.”

“That’s selfish,” you say. “Taking the choice away from someone like that.”

“Selfish or caring? Are they not one in the same?”

You stare at him, your own brows furrowed now. The look he gives you is strange, odd. It makes you want to run in the opposite direction. Mingi is fiercely protective of his own, but something bothers you.

“Wooyoung…” your throat tightens. “He turned her, didn’t he?”

The door opens, Mingi straightening up against the wall. You stand immediately, waiting for the person to enter. He’s in all black, just like the last time you saw him. He shivers slightly, rubbing his covered arms as he enters the room. His eyes flick to Mingi, before looking at you.

“Sorry I lost track of time. Happy to see me?” Hanse wiggles his brows, groaning as he rolls his shoulders. “Ah, don’t look so pissed off, Rose. Long day?” You glance at Mingi. He doesn’t say a word, silent as he stares at Hanse. The man doesn’t seem to mind, hands tucked in his pockets. He kicks his foot at Mingi’s chains, wincing slightly. “Works like a charm. Ah, aren’t you cold? I can see your breath.”

He looks at you, but you further press yourself into the wall. All of this, just because you accepted an invite to a club. Hanse steps a bit to the side, gesturing to the open doorway. “Come with me? It’s warmer, I assure you. Just needed to keep it cold so this guy over here doesn’t break those chains of his.”

“Will you take the bullet out of him?” You ask. Hanse purses his lips, shaking his head after a moment.

“Not a good idea. He’ll try to kill me and I prefer being alive. So,” he gestures to the open door again. “Come?”

The warmth of the air from the room is inviting, the greatest temptation. You look at Mingi, and he only nods. Eyes still on Hanse. So he trusts him to not kill you. Not that you trust Mingi’s words, you just believe he wouldn’t lead you to your death. So you slowly move around Hanse, careful not to touch him. But before you exit, you look at Hanse.

“Don’t kill him,” you say.

He shrugs, “Now that’s just up to Fate, isn’t it?”

Mingi’s right.

You’re in a strange living room in the middle of nowhere, a fireplace going in the corner. You rub your hands together as you sit just next to it, the fire crackling filling the silence. Hanse watches you as you take a bite of food, trying your best not to look crazy as you eat. Taking food from people who attacked you isn’t such a good idea, but it looked sealed. And you were starving. Have you’ve been making terrible, stupid decisions? Yes. But are you no longer hungry? Also, yes. So maybe that cancels out the stupid choices. At least, that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself.

“How much do you know?” Hanse asks after a moment. “About them? About us?”

“I know you’re vampires,” you start, “I know you have this strange feud between your clans. I know your half is running out of blood supply and you’re trying to come into Hongjoong’s territory. I know that they absolutely despise you. I know that Seungwoo lied to me this whole time about being my best friend.”

“He was trying to protect you,” Hanse says simply, only making your frown deepen. “I’m telling the truth, y/n.”

“The truth,” you snort, shaking your head. “All I’ve been told is the truth, apparently. Somehow I think your truth and mine mean two completely different things.”

Hanse sighs, leaning into the couch. “I can tell you what I know. A lot of it, but not all. We’re still under a treaty, even if I have one of them in my basement,” Hanse glances at the floor. “He can’t hear me, so he hasn’t the slightest idea what we’re talking about. You don’t have to be afraid when you go back there.”

“Afraid of Mingi?” Are you scared of him? Sure he’s lied about a lot of things, but being afraid of him? He’s not harmless, no. But you’re sure he won’t hurt you. Right?

Right?

"They weren't always like this," Hanse explains. "They were kinder. Cared for others more. They liked you, but not to the point of this… obsession. We all cared for you. Something about being turned changed them. We haven't quite figured it out yet. Perhaps it was Hongjoong? Being turned by the first might change how you think."

"Yeosang wasn't changed by him," you say. "He told me that one of the other guys did it. So that couldn't be it."

"Then perhaps he is different from the rest if that’s the case. But that’s besides the point. Something did change with them. Their care for you grew to a madness, and uncontrollable craving for you. It was terrifying to watch them flounder over your very being. And now though they control it, I can see into it. I can see how they hold themselves back. You have no idea what danger you’re in right now, y/n. They’re willing to do anything to have you. Have you not noticed strange things happening? Forcing you to stay with them? There has to be something, anything for you to believe what I’m telling you.”

Your flooded apartment. Your job. Your applications leading nowhere. So many things prevent you from leaving their home. But… It's a coincidence. It… it must be. Or are you just being naive? You a month ago would have left without thinking twice. Why are you so insistent on believing them? Why can’t you just leave?

“So you understand, then?” Hanse takes your confused look for confirmation, nodding. “Then it will be easier to convince you to leave them.”

“Wait,” you hold up a hand. “Who are you? You keep on saying things about them, how they’re bad people. But why do you care? Why are you so deeply involved? Is it because of the blood supply, is this some type of revenge?”

Hanse laughs dryly, “No. I don’t care enough about them to make this about some power trip. I’d leave if I needed to, leave Mingi alone in the basement until he dries out into nothing. But unfortunately, that is not what Subin has chosen for me,” he sighs softly, shaking his head.

“You’re only confusing me more,” you say. “You’ve said nothing about who you are, what your relation to them is. You could be lying through your teeth because I don’t have the slightest evidence. Why… Why are you so devoted? Why is Subin?”

“It’s not something I--” he stops himself, shaking his head. “Subin is your brother, y/n. Was, your brother. That’s why he wants to protect you. You’re family.”

You shake your head, “There’s no way. She said her family died, Hanse. All of them were dead, she--”

“That’s what she thought. But things changed, y/n. Subin was her brother from your father’s side. A brother she didn’t know at the time. It was an odd coincidence of him being on the ship with her, but it happened. They found out after a few months of traveling together. They grew close, but he was turned before her. Rose wasn’t very keen on the idea of vampires. Her found family being turned into one wrecked her. And he left her on that ship. It was a reckless choice at the time, but he thought that she would be safe with them. Of course, we all know how that ended up.”

He gestures to your chest, your hand resting just above the scar. Your fingers dig into the fabric of the dress, swallowing slowly. He cares because he didn’t before. Because he couldn’t save her. He left her alone. It makes sense, it connects so many things that you were confused about. Still, there’s one lingering question. Why were you turned? Why did Wooyoung decide to turn you? Why are you still their object of affection? Do they reject their choices, want to make up for what they’ve done?

Or are they so deluded to believe that you’d decide to become a vampire this time around?

“Subin is going to kill me,” his tone is nervous, gaze flicking over yours. “Promise to keep this tidbit a secret for a while? I wasn’t even supposed to let you out of there, but I felt bad that you were cold.”

Felt bad? “You shot at me.”

He frowns. “I wasn’t going to kill you.”

“You could have! What if Mingi didn’t step in front of me? I could have died!” You stand, Hanse following suit. “For what? What’s the point of all of this? Kidnapping me and threatening his life-”

“You shouldn’t care for those men,” Hanse says harshly, kind eyes gone. “They’re not good people, y/n. They’ll never be, no matter what they tell you. They’re manipulators. They’re the ones that turned you into a vampire before. Why would you listen to anything they say now? And I kidnapped you to get you away for a second to tell you the truth, y/n. They don’t care about you, they just care about her. And you’ll never be her. No matter how much they want you to be.”

He takes a step toward you, you stumble back onto the couch. He leans forward, anger dropping. “Just stay in there for a few more days. Subin has some things to deal with, but he’ll be here to explain the rest. To help you do what you have to do.”

“And that is?”

This time, he grins. “Kill them, of course.”

He shuts the door behind you, harshly, the lock echoing around the basement. Mingi tries to meet your eyes but you avoid them, moving back into your corner of the room. Hanse gave you some heat packs so you won’t freeze to death, though you didn’t bother thanking him for it. It isn’t exactly a solution to your problem. Especially the man sitting in the same room with you, still trying to catch your eye.

“What did he say?” Mingi asks. You don’t bother glancing at him, huddling yourself into the corner and giving him your back. Is this enough to block him out? Or will he continue to pester until you cannot take it anymore? Either way, you still give him the cold shoulder. “y/n please—”

“Mingi, I honestly don’t give a shit how hurt your feelings are,” you start. You do care, moreso in comparison to the others. Rose loved him even if she rarely said it. She loved them all. They just made things complicated. Very complicated. “Leave me alone, alright?”

“I told you that they’re trying to trick you—”

“Are they?” You turn your head, glaring at him. He’s paler, his skin an odd shade. It has to be the bullet that’s still lodged in his body. The one that’s slowly killing him. If that’s possible, of course. “I can’t…” you sigh, rubbing your face. “I can’t, Mingi. I can’t handle the lies anymore. It’s exhausting, trying to decipher the truth from what you’re telling me. I won’t be able to trust any of you. Subin’s clan—Hanse, they’ve told me more than you, and we’ve seen each other three times. Three, Mingi. I’ve been with you for over a month. I mean, I don’t even know anything about you. And you don’t know me either.”

“I know you, y/n.”

You adjust yourself, eyes moving to him. “Tell me then, Mingi. Tell me what you know.”

“I know you’re addicted to fruits, that’s why we buy them for you every time we go shopping. I know you love to read, you had a book in your hand when we met on the elevator. I know you like to be alone. I know you hate being lied to, and despite it still stick by us." He slips the last part in, eyes moving away from you. "There's some things that I'd probably never tell you. But if we were to start again, with who you are now and not who you were before, we can make it this time."

"I never asked for us to dwell on the past, Mingi. I didn't know about it until Hongjoong told me to touch the jewelry. Before that I never had glimpses of us, thoughts of us as we were before. I was fine living my life as it was. If we met outside of those circumstances, things might be different. But we can't be rid of it now. Not when I know there's something big you're hiding. Hanse knows, the others know, you know. The only person who was involved and doesn't know is me. Was me."

"Is there something I can do to alleviate your worries?" You hesitate for a moment. It's brief, simple. Mingi notices it though, sighing softly. "There's just some things I can't say." He adjusts himself against the wall, hissing as the chains dig into his wrists. You can see how it’s hurting him, hands bloody. Dried stains against the concrete. You shouldn’t feel bad for him, but you do.

And that thought only hurts you more.

"When you've been alive this long to see everyone you care for die, it starts to affect you less and less. You grow accustomed to it. Numb, in a sense. It makes you realize how life short actually is. Your personality slowly flattens, lacking depth. You could care less about anything or anyone. Your thoughts are right in that sense,” his eyes flick to you. “We care for you so deeply and without reason because you were the only person that we hoped for over centuries. Before we turned into what we are, we were infatuated with you. It may have exemplified what we feel now."

You keep your distance, shifting yourself further to the wall. Mingi watches your moments, lids seemingly heavy. He's not going to survive if you don't help. Digging for more information would be useless if you don't aid him now.

“Are those feelings for me or her?” Your voice is low. His response will hurt either way, but you need to know. You need to know if your own feelings should be expressed. If it’s all for her, there’s no point in you continuing this path filled with thorns and crumbled stones. “And don’t lie to me, Mingi. I need to know.”

“Does that matter?” He furrows his brows. “Your soul is the same. You are her, and she is you.”

You can recall just days ago when he told you the opposite. That you’re your own person. Perhaps it’s the lack of blood that’s pumping through him causing him to think this way. Or maybe it’s true. “You aren’t the same person, but your soul is. She was a nuisance and irritating, but I loved her. You are wise and caring, quick-witted and curious. And I love you. The feelings for her and you are not the same.”

“You can’t love me, Mingi. We’ve known each other for weeks-”

“It doesn’t feel that way, y/n. Does it? Does it feel that way to you?”

You look back at the wall, unable to answer. How could you tell him your true feelings? It’s hard to hide it, hard to say that you care for all of them in some capacity. It’s scary, knowing how easily you’ve fallen. Love is a strong word, but not too far off from what you do know. You know that you’ve never felt like this with any of your other partners. You know that these emotions are silly and you should listen to the advice that Hanse and Subin has given you. You know all of this, and yet, here you are. Glancing at Mingi’s body, worried.

“Tell me.”

“Mingi,” you start, shaking your head. “I can’t do that.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?” Though there is a teasing smile on his lips, you know he’s mocking you. It would irritate you if you weren’t so afraid that these talks you’re having with him are your last. His skin is blue in tint, lips losing their color. “Come here.”

“Just don’t come near me, alright? No matter what I say or do. Just stay over there. Please.”

His words echo in your ear. You shake your head, “You told me not to, Mingi.”

A small sigh falls from his lips, “I know that. But I want you to come here for just a second. Just so that I can make sure you’re okay.”

“You can tell from there. I’m fine,” you stare at his wrists. “But you’re not okay.”

“That’s true,” he laughs dryly, nodding slowly. “I’m losing myself, y/n. Soon I won’t care about these restraints anymore. The pain of not feeding is the only thing that’ll be fogging my mind. It’s odd that they’ve left you in here with me when I’m like this. Why would they?” He coughs, breaths shaky. “I could kill you within the next hour.”

You shiver. Don’t listen to his words, you think. He told you not to listen to them when he’s like this. The guilt lingers in the back of your mind. He could just feed for a few seconds. That would sustain him long enough to keep him from going mad. Your eyes move to his, alarmed when you see that he’s already watching you. He rolls over his hand, palm facing upwards. The gesture is slow. A beckoning gesture, brow quirked.

"Just a little bit. Enough to help you."

He nods. You slowly stand, his gaze sharp as you slowly walk over. You’re a foot in front of him when his hand presses against the back of your knee. You stumble forward, body falling into his lap. You try pulling away, but his hands reach up, gripping your hips. The light touch of his fingers at the edge of your dress stops you from speaking. He lets them roam, fingers slowly sliding along your leg, large hands cupping your hips. He tugs you closer to him on his lap. The ghosting of his lips against your neck makes you shudder, fingers digging into his shirt. He blows lightly on your skin.

"Beg for it."

“What?” You manage to speak, hands on either side of his head, holding yourself from pushing your chest into his. “Mingi.”

"Beg."

His hands drag along the curves of your body, fingers digging into your hips as he presses himself into you. His bulge is solid, twitching each time you squeeze yourself. His breaths tickle your skin, humping into you vigorously. You moan, gripping his biceps. He moves his lips from your neck, meeting your gaze.

Red.

You feel his teeth sink into your skin, pain coursing through your body.

“You’re always so pretty,” Mingi murmurs, fingers deep inside of you. You push yourself against his touch, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your clit. “I love how you look coming undone.” You look at where he touches you, bite marks on your breasts, stomach, hips. He kisses your belly button, his head resting against the curve of your thigh.

“I love you.”

“They wouldn’t run. They aren’t the same as before. Subin is keener than that,” Hongjoong stands just by the fridge, glancing at the ever-growing pile of fruit that sits in the middle of the kitchen island. You’ve been gone for over a day. Too long. “He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.”

“How do we explain the abduction then? Is it just another Tuesday for him?” Seonghwa’s words are dripping with cynicism, though the expression on his face is anything but. “He is testing us, putting us at our absolute limit. He knows that we won’t just let this slide. Mingi can hold his own, but y/n—” He shuts his eyes briefly. “We don’t cope well when it comes to her.”

“He knows that, but so what? Are we just going to stand here?” Wooyoung’s seems the most out of it, pacing back and forth. The others aren’t dealing with it well but seem calm in comparison to the energy emitting off of him. He glances at the others quickly, thoughts seemingly scattered. “This could be her last life, she could be dead at this very moment. Or at least suffering.”

“Be realistic,” Yunho scoffs through furrowed brows. “They wouldn’t kill her. There would be no purpose in doing so.”

“It was the promise they made to Rose,” Jongho adds. “When they spoke to Seonghwa they mentioned it, it’s not far-fetched for them wanting to follow through.”

Hongjoong sighs. “We’ve all made promises we haven’t kept, Rose as well. But y/n doesn’t know about it and I doubt she ever will. Why continue to string along this promise when it should have been let go long ago? It’s been hundreds of years, things are no longer the same. Rose is dead.”

“You say that,” Yeosang murmurs. “You say that but we wouldn’t be where we are now without us desperately wanting to relive the past. To see Rose again, even in a different form. If we were to let go I would have been dead just like her. Most of us would have lived differently. Asking for them to forgo the past is silly since we haven’t done it in the slightest manner. Is it not?” A dry laugh escapes him, arms crossed stiffly against his chest. "We would only be hypocrites then. And I'd rather stand by my words than be accused of such."

"She does not belong to them, she belongs to us," Yunho says, shaking his head. "She's denied them in the past because of their hold on her. I doubt that will change now."

"So she will accept our hold, then?" Hongjoong eyes flick between them. "We cannot control her thoughts. She will decide on her own."

“Are you with me?” Mingi grips your body. “I’m so sorry y/n, I shouldn’t have, I wasn’t myself. Please don’t die, please.”

Your head is limp against his shoulder as you’re pulled out of the memory. Your body is weaker than before, a soft murmur against his neck. “You can’t take me out that easily,” you whisper. He sighs in relief, chest shaking as he sobs into you. You don’t question how he’s out of the restraints, how his body seems less weak in comparison to before. But you have enough strength to push yourself off of him, moving away.

“y/n?”

“I’m fine,” you say, smiling at him. He watches your moments, watches as you slide into the furthest corner of the room. You’re not sure why exactly you’re moving away. Your heart tugs at each slide, wanting to be closer to him. But you can’t. There’s too many questions that you have to just fall into with ease. Too many things you don’t know. And the tiredness is just spreading over you. Your eyelids flutter as you rest your head against the wall.

“y/n-”

The door swings open.

Hongjoong stands there, eyes flicking around the room. They don’t land on you immediately, meeting the gaze of Mingi. He rubs his wrists, nodding subtly at his friend. He steps into the room, jacket covered in what you can only assume is blood. He finally looks at you. You sit in the far corner of the room, body shivering due to the lowered temperature. You don’t quite notice how close he is at first, until he covers your hand with his. He’s warm, always has been. You watch as he takes your hand, pressing a light kiss to the back of it.

“You look utterly dreadful, my sea,” he murmurs gently, placing your hand to the side of his face. He looks hurt, swallowing slowly as he meets your gaze, almost comically so, lips trembling as he places another small kiss to your palm. “I’m so sorry we let you out of our sight.” Tears slowly fall down his cheeks, glancing at the outfit you wear. It’s still the same dress from the shop, though it’s very torn and bloodied. Without another word, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. You let him take care of you, body numb as he pulls your arms through the sleeves. He slides your hands into the pockets, small heat pouches causing another shiver to roll through you. You were angry before. Angry at this whole situation, at them for endlessly lying to you. But in this brief moment, his voice soft as he lifts you into his arms, pressing you into his chest. At this moment, it’s hard to see him as anything other than kind. He holds you close as he steps out the room, hand pressing your head against his chest.

“It’s very gruesome in here, sea,” he whispers, stepping over a body on the floor. “I won’t tell you what to do, but shutting your eyes would be best so that it doesn’t haunt you.”

You shouldn’t listen to him. You should look and see the destruction they’ve made in Subin’s cabin. But you don’t have the strength to continue, leaning your head against his chest, eyes closed.

“y/n?” The familiar voice of San appears. You don’t open your eyes, tiredness prevents it. “Is she unconscious?”

“No, just exhausted,” Hongjoong’s thumb rubs your cheek, humming. “Our girl has been through a lot. She needs a break.”

“We should have gotten here sooner—”

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters,” you interrupt his rant, eyes still shut. “I won’t blame it on any of you. So please don’t apologize to me, okay?” You say nothing more. Hongjoong continues his walk. A strange smell tickles your nose, your nostrils wiggling. Hongjoong doesn’t comment on it and frankly you don’t want to know.

“It’ll be cold for a moment, I’m stepping outside and putting you in the car, okay?” He murmurs. You nod, the cool breeze only making you press deeper into his chest. He moves quickly, one of the others swinging open the door. The air is warmer immediately, a deep shiver escaping your body as he leans into the seat. His arms drop from your body and you tense up immediately, until you feel his fingers brush against your cheek. “It will be quick,” he murmurs. “I won’t leave you alone for long, sea.”

The tapping of rain on the car fills your thoughts. You're thankful that Hongjoong told you to cover your eyes while walking through the cabin; the stench was more than enough for you to bear. You didn't want this to happen. Whatever they did. Killing. It's the last thing you desired. But if they had no other choice, it was okay, right? They wouldn't do it without a reason, without it being the only choice they had. You tuck yourself further into the seat, Hongjoong’s scent wrapped around you.

"Wooyoung is going to drive, alright?" His voice is soft as you open your eyes again, meeting Yunho's gaze. His brows furrow as he sees you visibly tense up. "What's up?"

"I don't want to see him."

"But he wanted to see you–"

"Then I'll walk," you slowly lean up, but he shakes his head, lightly pushing your body back down. "Not him, Yunho."

He nods briefly, shutting the door.

Yunho walks to the others, stopping Wooyoung just as he passes by. "Not you, Woo. She doesn't want to see you."

"Why?" His eyes widened in confusion. "What did I do? Why won't she see me?"

Hongjoong shuts the cabin door behind him. "Doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that she gets back home without any hiccups. Jongho can drive, I'll sit in the back. Mingi isn't that well, so someone else takes him home. We'll figure out what's going on when we get back and she's feeling better. For now, no drama."

"Did Hanse say something?" Wooyoung seems to ignore his captain's words, looking at you resting in the car. "What did he say to her? Mingi?" He turns to said man. Mingi leans against the other car, barely giving Wooyoung a glance as he enters. "I can't just stand here without knowing–"

"Think for one fucking second," Seonghwa hisses, moving over to his car. He taps his temple, "Put your head on straight and let's get going. We have bigger problems to solve. Subin is missing, and we just killed Hanse. We haven't exactly gotten on his good side. Once he finds out things aren't going to be as smooth as they are now.”

Wooyoung clenches his jaw, words left unspoken. Yunho pats his arm, walking over to his motorcycle and putting on his helmet. The others disperse while Hongjoong lingers by Seonghwa’s car, speaking to the two softly. Wooyoung doesn't bother saying anything else, getting into a car with Yeosang and driving off. The screech of the tires only make Hongjoong roll his eyes, flicking back to Seonghwa.

Mingi’s fingers dig into Hongjoong's sleeve, eyes flicking to Yunho's. Just as he disappears down the road, he moves his focus back on Hongjoong. He could tell that the man is panicked, lips trembling as his eyes widen.

"Mingi–"

"Someone's poisoning her," he whispers, eyes flicking to Seonghwa. "I don't know who the fuck is doing it, but I tasted her blood, hyung. It was bitter — it tasted like she'd been eating pure chemicals. I thought it was strange that she was out of it for so long while we were in the basement, but it could be because of the poison. There's a lot, Joong. A shit ton."

Hongjoong frowns, eyes narrowing. "Are you sure about that?"

"One hundred fucking percent. This… we can't do this again. Not like this. We've already lied enough to her. We can't just poison her to the point where she wants to become one of us. She has to choose to," Mingi lets go of him, shifting in his seat. He stares at the other car. "We've done enough."

Hongjoong pauses for a moment. “Okay.”

“What does that mean, hyung? What are you going to do? I was feeding off of her because I didn’t have a choice, I would have killed her if I didn’t taste the fucking poison-”

“Min, breathe. She’s fine,” Seonghwa says softly from his seat. “She’s fine.”

Hongjoong nods. “I’ll figure it out, Mingi, okay? I’m not going to sit on my ass, not anymore.”

Mingi stares at him for a moment, eyes flicking between him then he nods, shifting into his seat. It ends the conversation. Seonghwa meets Hongjoong’s gaze. He’s seen Seonghwa angry, sure. But the way he looks at him with pure fury, the grip on the steering wheel almost breaking it. Hongjoong nods to him, shutting the door of the car before things escalate. He walks to the other car slowly, mind scattered. Who the Hell is poisoning you?

The drive is quicker than you think, and when you arrive, Hongjoong carries you to your room. The others seem to scatter somewhere around the home. Though you cannot see them, you can feel their gazes on you as he brings you to your room, placing you on your bed. His fingers embracing you with eyes stuck on Mingi’s bite on your neck. His face reveals none of his feelings, though his fingers only tighten in their hold.

“I’m sorry, sea,” he says softly. Nothing else, no more embellishments. He lifts your hand and presses his lips lightly against your skin. “I won’t let you out of my sight again. Please rest.” He stands, letting go of your hand. His frame doesn’t linger by the door, shutting it softly as he flicks off the lights. You curl into yourself, still in the dress from the store. He didn’t ask to undress you, didn’t overstep, and just apologized. It’s not his fault; you wouldn’t place the blame on any of them. But his apology means a lot to you. The creak of your door makes you tense up, eyes opening and flicking over to the person.

Your heart drops. He seems to sense it, putting up his hands immediately.

“Get out.”

“I’m not here to hurt you, peach. Please just give me a chance to explain, let me know what’s wrong? What did I do to you?” Wooyoung begs, slow steps into the room. You see Yunho just behind him, resting against the far wall. Perhaps he’s here to watch him, make sure nothing happens between the both of you? It makes Wooyoung’s presence less stressful knowing that Yunho is nearby.

“y/n-”

“You are not a good person, Wooyoung,” you say, slowly rising to a sit on the edge of your bed. Yunho steps in to help, but you wave him off. Your heart is exhausted, not your body. “You were never a good person to me.”

“I didn’t do anything, please. Just tell me what’s upsetting you.”

“You turned Rose into a vampire, didn’t you?” You hiss, glaring at him. He stops moving closer to you, eyes wide. “And don’t you lie to me.”

"Why are you upset about something that didn't even happen to you? It was your former self, hundreds of years ago. Do you think that we remained the same people we once were? That we remained stagnant and didn't grow? It was a mistake, y/n. A terrible, horrendously awful and selfish mistake. There is nothing that we can do but ask for your forgiveness and move on. It is what she would have wanted."

He steps closer, merely a foot away from you.

“And I did not turn her into a vampire. I don’t know who told you that, but it’s not true. It’s not what she wanted.”

“You’re lying.”

“He’s not,” Yunho says from behind, eyes meeting yours. “He turned Yeosang, but not you. I can vouch for him.”

Yunho isn’t the most trustworthy man you know, but somehow, you believe him. Despite the underlying issues between you, you do trust his words. You stand, meeting Wooyoung’s gaze. Wooyoung matches yours. It's scary how empty they look. No emotion as he keeps your gaze. He takes a step forward, ignoring how you glare. Soon, he's barely a breath away. His red eyes are dark, almost black. He doesn't blink. "What are you doing?"

"I am selfish," His voice is soft and low. Broken. "I am eternally selfish. I will admit that if you let me stay with you." His hand rests against the wall, eyes flicking to your lips. "If you let me stay with you, I'll do anything you want. Beg if you'd like, Peach." His hand slowly slides down the wall with him. His eyes look up at you from where he's kneeling, free hand resting just behind your lower calf. He presses a light kiss against your clothed knee, sighing. His body seems to crumble as he does so, face pressed against your leg. "I'd do anything for you. Just don't make me go."

"Wooyoung," you try moving your leg but he doesn't budge the slightest, his grip tightening. If you really, truly tried, you could probably move him off since he isn't holding you that hard. Your eyes move to Yunho standing just by the door with his arms crossed. He doesn't say a word, meeting your eyes and giving no indication on what you should do. Wooyoung takes your lack of struggle as acceptance, arms wrapping around both of your legs and pulling them close to his body. You stumble, the quick movements of Yunho steadying you with ease. He nods at you slightly, hand outstretched against your back.

"Alright, baby?" He asks.

You hate it. You hate how easily they can pull you away from your anger, how easily that can manipulate you into another train of thought.

"Please," Wooyoung whispers again with lips pressed against your leg. His hands run up and down your calf, your body shivering at the touch. "Please let me take care of you."

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tags: @revehosh @mrcarrots @belletiny @sansblkgirlfriend @hwadump @honeyedtalisman @atzcoke @glitterhongjoong @whatudowhennooneseesyou @marievllr-abg @arkive78 @dysftopia @kpopnightingale @wxnderingthoughts @jenniee-tm @hongshines @atinytease @multidreams-and-desires @yla-aira @wommypeaches @avantalem @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @toxicccred @xciiiomwliah @madelinelina @kirooz @a-tiny-teez @tenebrisirae @ageofjade @n0v4t33z @yoongiigolden @jonghoharibo @fl0r4f4wn @gh0stbish @kodsukein @vitrealislux @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @spiderrenjunfics @aeoliannie @tannie13

#fic: clair de lune #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #jongho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ERM this took me so long to post SNJFDAJNSKLDF #me when you like instead of rbing: 🤬🤬🤬🤬👹👹👹👹😡😡😡

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raydays-swap-au · 3 hours

Text

Finally tried my hand at redrawing a screenshot for my swap AU.

I did my best to mimic the style of the show in this one ( cuz, yes, usually I'm not trying to mimic the style of the show. You can tell by my hashing and colored lines. ) Though I can tell the lineweight is definitely off ( especially on Velvette, ) but I'd still say it's pretty good for my first attempt to mimic the show's style as much as I possibly can. The lineweight issue will prob be fixed the more I draw these, idk man.

Either way, I find it so funny that Vox, due to being pretty much entirely blue, just sticks out like a sore thumb. All the while Velvette being all red sorta blends in a lot.

Anyway, original screenshot and more info under the cut + unedited version of my swap!Vox cuz yes

Honestly, while coloring in swap!Vox I was all like "man, this guy is too blue for this entirely red background" so I looked up the original episode. Turns out that there's a slight red hue put onto the characters ( in some episodes/scenes/locations ) and Cannibaltown is one of those places, with a really noticeable red hue. You can see it really well on Charlie in particular ( who shows up just a few seconds later in this scene due to the camera zooming out. ) Either way, that let me give Vox that same red hue to have him blend in more. With his actual colors he stuck out even more tbh lmao.

Also, Velvette is just so tiny. Like, Vox and Alastor ( and Rosie too ig, though in some scenes she's shorter than Alastor ) are around 7'0, ll the while Velvette goes to around right under Vox's TV head. Idk. I'm just glad I redraw the entire background to account for the stuff not seen, due to Rosie and Alastor blocking it.

Also the lineart in the background is mostly traced to make sure the perspective is accurate, though the characters themselves aren't traced obviously. Just thought I'd mention since I prefer to be transparent about when I trace or not ( even if it is extremely rare that I trace at all )

I also noticed how inconsistent the artist(s) are with Alastor's arm lengths. Idk maybe it's just to emulate perspective in regards to his forearm(s), but even his upperarms are uneven. Not that I mind as it means I can be more lax in that regard, but it's just something I noticed.

And yes, I edited this post cuz the first one had Vox be too red for my taste. Does he stick out more now? Yes. Does him being too red/muddy bother me less now? Also yes.

Also, just because I really like how swap!Vox looks in this scene, here's a version with no background and red filter of him.

Drawing swap!Vox like that is honestly the only reason I even decided to do a redraw of this specific screenshot. I just really like how Alastor looks in the original lol :3

#rayday's swap au #hazbin hotel swap au #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel swap au vox #vox #swap au #screenshot redraw

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toh-tagteam-au · 1 year

Text

Tag Team AU Synopsis – Separate Tides

Synopsis Masterpost Link

Previous Part [Intermission: Yesterday's Lie]

Next Part [Escaping Expulsion] [coming soon]

Welcome to the official first episode of Tag Team season 2! Time to really get started. This episode went through so many rewrites in the beginning ngl.

WE’RE BACK AT THE OWL HOUSE BABYYYYY!!!

We open with Eda and Lilith talking at the dinner table, discussing ways to get money now that Eda doesn’t have the portal. Lilith questions why she gave it to the Golden Guard, and Eda says that Luz needed it more than she did.

Enter: Hunter. He doesn’t talk as he enters, and Lilith gets quiet. He starts making a sandwich in silence while Eda and Lilith start talking again. Lilith says something about Luz and the portal door again, and Hunter leaves suddenly and slams the door behind him.

They talk a bit more about how Lilith regrets treating them terribly when they were in the Emperor’s coven, and how their relationship constantly reminded her of what she lost when she cursed Eda.

Suddenly Hunter rushes back in again, holding a crystal ball.

The camera follows Hunter as he heads up to his room.

Cut to the market. Hunter is walking with King on his shoulder, hood up. People whisper as he walks by. King questions if this is a good idea, and whether or not Luz will even be on this mission. Hunter assures him that bounties this high only come from the Emperor’s Coven.

So they go on the selkidamus mission. He excels like canon Luz does, but is a bit more serious. King goes off on his own to explore the ship and look for Luz while Hunter does his work. Eventually, King finds himself in the captain’s quarters.

Cut to Hunter, outside the ship and keeping the selkidamus restrained with plant glyphs. It’s working until the ship is hit by Eda. Before she can run off, though, Hunter uses Flapjack to dash over and tackle her down. They grapple for a second before both of them realize who it is they’re fighting.

Cut to the three of them in a ship cell. They have a small back and forth about how they’re both hypocrites for telling the other to not harass the EC when Luz finally enters.

They hash out a secret plan before Luz calls out to them to hurry up.

Haven’t written the entirety of the fight scene out, but the gist is that Hunter and Eda use the glyphs to trick Luz a similar way it happens in canon. The only differences are that she’d want to go in the cave with them at first, and King is free, so the plan is a bit more complex. Luz also doesn’t look at the selkidamus “corpse” because she feels bad and doesn’t want to see the dead animal.

Luz regretfully mentions they should probably find a separate way home, since scouts will probably try arresting Hunter on-sight if they’re on the EC ship pulling into port. The siblings hug, but it’s still fairly tense, and Luz leaves.

Hunter and Eda get back to the Owl House on the bath-boat, entering to see a messed-up Lilith looking jolly. She went through the whole situation with making the scrying potion, and presents it to the both of them. She points out that the scouts are helpless without her as coven head, and Hunter disagrees – they look more productive than they ever did under Lilith’s supervision.

Previous Part [Intermission: Yesterday's Lie]

Next Part [Escaping Expulsion + Keeping Up A-fear-ances]

Synopsis Masterpost Link

#Tag Team Synopsis #toh tagteam au #toh #the owl house

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shhh-secret-time · 1 month

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Yeah so this is in fact going to be a two part fic! This request came from AO3 and we were able to hash out more on this fic! I pitched the idea of making it a cowboy AU and they seemed to really like that idea! So here we are! Please enjoy and look forward to part 2!

Warning: Strong-Language, Gun Violence, Blood (Minor), Writer doesn't know how guns work!

Pairing: Gunslinger!Kyle x Fem!Reader

Colorado was an untamed lawless wasteland, at least that's what most people out East would tell you. Between talks of untapped land and the rumors of gold mines out that way, people were scrambling to find out there. But not all men had fortune and discovery in their hearts. Some had things to hide, pasts they intend to bury deep in the desert sands.

You were one of those people. As an heir to your family's printing press, it was only natural that from the time you were born a target would be painted on your back. Distant family members, friends of the family, hell even the butler once thought if they got their hands on you, they could use you as leverage. Kidnapping, attempted murder, blackmail, and threats all before the age of sixteen. You'd seen and heard it all. And every time it got harder and harder to want to stick around.

Now here you were twenty something and unwed. Parents long buried having left you everything as they always said they would. You were alone with all the money one person could ever need, and it was so incredibly lonely.

After a while you just kind of became desensitized to the attempt at your life. But no one really gets used to being so alone. How were you supposed to make a connection with people, when all that ever came up was the talk of marriage or your money.

Truly you were grateful for your parents, and you did love them! After all they were good to you, they protected and loved you. That protection morphed and twisted into an overbearing relationship. Up until now you weren't allowed to go out on your own, they decided who you interacted with. Your tutor you had known for years had to go through a background check by the Pinkertons every few months just to remain employed.

So, again, when they passed it was like being thrown out into the ocean and told to swim. If the business was to stay afloat you would have to learn to be sociable and professional. Learn to swim in the shark infested waters of a male dominated field.

Or you could sell the company to the highest bidder and bounce. Which is what you decided to do. Auction out your family’s printing company and try to retire in the lap of luxury. Maybe start your own book using all that tutoring your parents got you.

But it could never be that easy, could it? Once word got out about your plans to sell it all, certain people started plotting against you. It all came ahead one night when you were getting ready for bed. You blew out the candles that kept your bedroom lit, closed your windows, and locked your doors. Double checked them a few times before finally deciding to lay your head down for the night.

A lot of good that did. As soon as you close your eyes, a gloved hand cups your mouth. Another pair goes for your arms and legs, you feel the coarse hemp rope across your skin. Another night, another attempt at your life.

Your attackers must've not heard that the heir to the printing press was no damsel in distress. Quick as they came, your hands shot under the pillow next to you, the side of your bed that lay bare. Except for the .38 derringer that you slept with; two shots loaded in the chamber. Two intruders and still two shots were all you needed.

Click. Bang.

You stand there watching the sheriff and his posse drag the intruders off in their wagon, a blanket thrown over your shoulders by said sheriff. He sits next to you with his badge gleaning off the dull light from the city’s lampposts, a cigar tucked in between his teeth.

"You know this is the third attempted break in this month." He says puffing on the brown tobacco.

"I know." You mumble, bringing the blanket closer to your form.

"And the third time my men had to take in men with bullets in their chests. You're lucky you're a fine shot or I'd have to take you in for murder." He doesn't look at you, but you can hear the danger in his voice. See the way he inspects the cigar, holding it between his fingers.

"Sheriff?" You look up at him with furrowed brows.

A chill runs down your spine when he finally meets your eyes. The smirk that slowly creeps up his lips says it all.

"Now that's not to say I don't believe you. From what I've heard you got quite the record when it comes to things like this." He gestures vaguely with the tip of the cigar before continuing, "just find it kinda odd it keeps happening to you."

"You think I ask for this?" You ask back with a little more frustration in your voice than you should. Could you really be blamed for it though? The sheriff who was supposed to protect you, keep you safe from things like this, was sitting here blaming for the actions of stupid men.

"I don't think you do anything to prevent it. Just strange that a lady in her prime lives alone and isn't going about means of protection besides what...a gun under her pillow?" He blows out smoke that illuminates under the same light that touches his badge, the heavy white smoke lifts from his lips towards the night sky.

You honestly couldn't believe what you were hearing. That shiver that went down your spine spread throughout your body, making your blood run cold. Men breaking into your home you could handle, but a person with actual power? This was a battle you couldn't fight, not alone anyway.

"I'm sorry sheriff." You bite your tongue until you taste blood. "You're right. I should do something about this."

That was the best advice that asshole could have given you. To find someone in your corner. To find someone who can smuggle you out of the state and across the country. Finding someone who you could trust to not immediately shoot you in the back or run off with your money.

After searching around and pushing the word out there as subtly as you could, you finally catch wind of someone who fits the bill. You'd have to push a few dollar bills into the right hands, greasy palms, and all that, but you eventually get a name.

Kyle Broflovski.

That name carried weight, made your tongue feel heavy when you said it. The kind of reputation that he had wasn't one to take lightly. Over thirty bounties turned in alive and done by hand. While the number of bounties he brought in may not have been the largest out there, it was the fact he took down only the worst of the worst. The number on the bounty poster meant nothing to him, it was all about what the target had done. He was exactly what you were looking for, a man who could see past the money.

Now it all came down to arranging a meeting with him. Even a shut in like yourself knew the best place to find what you were looking for was the local saloon. The only thing left to do was dress down and try to convince the famous gunslinger that you desperately needed his help.

The smell of cigarettes and cheap booze was the first to greet you and you hadn't even opened the door yet. You could see boot prints made in the sawdust scattering across the floor. The cheery show tunes being played behind the door almost drowned out the sound of laughter. Before you could push open the door, a man came flying out being thrown by another gentleman. He hits the stairs and slumps down next to your foot. The poor man hit his head pretty hard, enough for it to put him to sleep.

With a little gulp you ignore the shaky feeling in your legs and push the dark wooden doors open. Maybe the thick brown cloak thrown over your form wasn't doing the best job at helping you blend it, but on the other hand most of the people here seemed to be enthralled by the women playing upstage to even care that you walked in. The girls dressed in flashy clothing were dolled up in the brightest makeup you've ever seen. They were gorgeous and the performance they put on brought life to this place, it was no wonder why people could lose themselves.

Your eyes scan the room as you scurry away from the door. People coming in and out, pushing past you like you weren't even there. The entire situation made your anxiety spike, being in such an unfamiliar place.

Somehow your legs carry you over to the bar. Taking a seat at the scuffed wooden counter, you note just how many empty shot glasses are covering the surface. Empty plates that looked like they were dipped in grease. Stained glasses that had thick amber liquid, the kind that burned your throat just looking at it. You tried not to look at the bar too much when you caught sight of faded red stains.

You take a deep breath and steady yourself before trying to flag down the bartender’s attention. A woman with tan skin and dark red hair. The bags under her eyes are so dark you don't think she understands the concept of sleep. Two cross tattoos just under her amber looking eyes lead your own down to her outfit. The light blue vest she's wearing makes her skin pop, somehow her nail polish isn't chipped or scratched in anyway. You watch as she takes a bottle of liquor by slotting it between her index finger and her middle finger.

She must have sensed your eyes on her because she side eyes you for a moment. The woman flips the bottle over and pours a clear liquid into a small shot glass. Once the drink is poured, she slides it down the bar and it lands in the hand of another patron. It takes her but a second to put the bottle down, wipe her hands off, and then approach you with a cigarette dangling from her lips.

"You're new here, aren't you?" She asks like she already knows the answer to that question.

"I... I am. I was just...looking for a drink." Not a complete lie, at this point a drink would help calm your nerves.

"Is that so?" Her brow shoots up. The bartender takes the cigarette from her lips and blows out a thin wisp of smoke. She crosses her arm under her chest and gestures for you to continue.

You look up towards the various brown and orange glass bottles behind her. Brands and names you've never heard of before lined the shelf. It isn't until you get to the higher up shelves that you find something you recognize. A bourbon, darker than most. Something your father used to have from time to time.

You lift your finger and gesture to the bottle. She follows it and lets out a little hum.

"The bourbon? Hm. Color me shocked. Alright."

"Two shots...please."

She stops and looks back at you with the bottle in her hand. A small smirk plays on her lips. "See that's how I know you're not from around here. Most people don't say please. Much less recognize a good brand. Most of these assholes just drink rotgut like it's the end of the world."

"I am a bit out of my element." You run your fingers over the wood, brushing your fingertips over the carvings. Wondering what the story was behind each little chip and groove.

Like before she takes two shot glasses between her fingers and places them down on the bar. The bottle is uncorked with a satisfying thoonk. You watch as the liquid catches the bright lights of the bar, making the amber shimmer with the candlelight.

"No kidding. What brings you here?" Once she's finished pouring your drinks she puts the bottle back under the counter. Her hands make themselves busy by collecting the dirty glasses, putting them off to the side.

"I'm looking for someone. Someone said I could find him here."

Like something straight out of one of your penny and dime novels, she begins cleaning the inside of the glass with a rag. When she doesn't say anything, it makes you shift nervously in your seat, but she eventually nods expecting you to continue.

"He's a gunslinger. Tall from what I've heard. Bright red hair?" You do your best to describe a man you've never met. You make a gesture with your hands by your head of his rumored fluffy red hair.

Before you could continue the woman stops cleaning the crystal-clear glass. She puts it down with a loud thud making the men next to you jump and look away. You hadn't even noticed your conversation was garnering attention. She lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah, you really aren't from around here. Let me give you a little advice. The man you're describing has a bit of a reputation around here. Only comes around when he's intending to collect."

You blink up at her.

"Bounties sweetheart." She snuffs out the cigarette with a little chuckle. You must have looked like a newborn dear the way you looked at her. Blushing a bit at the thought, you try to push it down. Suddenly the little glass of alcohol in front of you looks far more interesting.

"But my contact said he'd he here."

"Your contact isn't wrong." She pauses for a moment. "Man at your six- don't look." She hisses as you go to turn your head.

"Sorry." You squeak out, snapping your head back towards her.

"Man at your six is wanted in four different states. Highway robbing, harassment, nasty attitude...a perfect blend of asshole."

"Oh..."

"Men like that bring the gunslinger. Now I don't know what you want with someone like him, and I don't want to know. But if you want his attention, when he gets here you had better work fast." She looks down at you as she rubs her neck.

"Wh... why?"

"Because he'll drag that idiot out to the streets and probably duel him. Win. Tie him up and take him into the sheriff's office. Collect his bounty and move on."

"You talk like you know him." It was time for that liquid courage. You knock back the drink and grimace at the taste. It burns and claws its way down your throat.

The bartender lets out a little laugh at your reaction, or maybe it's your question. "I've been around for a while."

"She's also full of shit. She talks like I'm a gun lovin' nut." The low whispering voice next to you makes you turn in your seat.

He's a bit shorter than described but still pretty tall. His hair is exactly as you imagined it to be, curls sticking out from under his usual green cowboy hat. The way his emerald, green eyes peer down at you makes you shrink in your seat. They widen a bit as you squirm away, so he decides to move his head up towards the bartender who's got a smirk on her face.

"You gonna tell me I'm wrong?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

"No, no just that you make me sound much more dangerous than I am. Just a simple man tryin' to earn enough to eat." He says with a chuckle.

And when he smiles at her, lips curled up so softly. Every part of this man looks so gentle. Even the green tattered sarape around his body looks warm and inviting. It was hard to believe someone so soft looking had a reputation. On the other hand, it made it easier to approach him, maybe this wouldn't be so hard.

The drink you bought for him would probably help too. You recall all the times your father would pour his business partners a drink before pitching a new idea. So, you take the shot glass and scoot it towards him. He blinks down at it before letting out a little chuckle.

"You've got this backwards ma'am. S'pose to be the other way 'round. Man's supposed to buy a pretty woman a drink." Despite it all he takes the shot, and in his hands, it looks too small. He holds it up to you and downs it without blinking. The corners of his lips twitch and his hooked nose wrinkles a bit, looks like he wasn't expecting the stronger stuff.

His compliment makes your cheeks burn; you twist the material of your cloak in your hands. "Well...nothing says a lady can't buy a gentleman a drink, does it?"

"I reckon not. Just ain't used to it s'all." He puts the glass down with a gentle tap. "But you're sittin' in this here bar all by your lonesome askin' for me. So... here I am. Somethin' I can help ya with?"

How much of your conversation with the bartender had he heard? Enough to make you nervous that other people were listening in. Your hands lowered to the derringer strapped to your thigh, under the long skirt no one knew it was there. You palmed the handle and took a deep breath. There was no real plan to use it, but it brought you a little comfort. Just a reminder that it was there.

"Yes I-"

You're cut off by the sound of screams. From a few of the waitresses and working ladies to be exact. You look over your shoulder, it's coming from your six. Where the bartender told you not to look.

A burly man stands up and when he does, he looms over most of the men in this establishment. Slicked back short black hair tucked inside a crumpled up old bowler. For all the grime and dirt on the man the one thing you could give was that his handlebar mustache looked nice. The rest of him, not so much.

His voice bellows out, bringing an end to upbeat show tunes. "Broflovski! Yous here fer my head ain't ya!"

The man grins like he's proud of the fact that he's garnered such attention. The way he carries himself almost has you fooled if it wasn't for the bead of sweat trailing down the side of his face.

"Not at the moment, no. I was in the middle of havin' a conversation. Rather rude to interrupt a lady Knucklehead." You don't know if Kyle is calling the man a knucklehead or that's just some stupid bandit name.

Either way he sneers and with a flick of his wrist he tosses the gamblers table to the side. Chips and cards go flying up in the air, the poor dealer scrambles to get out of the way.

"I don't care if you was havin' breakfast with the fuckin' Queen of England! You shoulda know better than ta come in 'ere without a lil' backup. See I ain't one fer duelin' so we're gonna have ta do this the ol' fashion way. With yous layin' face down in the dirt bleedin' out ta death!" He whistles and a few more men sitting at other tables stand up.

Couldn't have been more than five or six, every single one of them equipped with some kind of weapon. Rusty nails pushed into wooden boards. Chains being spun around so fast it creates a little breeze. The sounds of their spurs jangling as they start to step closer.

Kyle puts his hands up defensively, the laid-back smile he had on his face falls when they get closer. "Now come on, can't we talk this out. Like I said, I ain't finished my conversation. It'd do you well to learn some manners. Call your men off."

He's not asking. The way he narrows that dark greens at the man makes the room feel cold. For a minute you think you see a spark in those eyes, a glint of something dangerous.

"God damn it..." You almost don't catch the bartender behind you mumbling, but you do hear the rack of a gun clear as day.

It's quiet all except for the way Knucklehead growls, deep and low in his chest. Despite having all these men, he still somehow looks like an animal backed into a corner. The bead of sweat trailing down his face travels lower. Down his cheek, towards his jawline where it hangs. Then...it falls. Drips onto the sawdust covered floor.

Plip

Click. Bang.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling someone's hands on your shoulder. You're hoisted in the air and thrown over the bar, you can hear the way glass shatters. Another collection of screams, and then nothing but groaning. When you open your eyes, you're in the arms of the bartender, the woman has the both of you pulled down and tucked behind the bar. Safe certainly isn't the word you'd use here, but it was better than being in the crossfire.

She's got another cigarette lit in her mouth; a shot gun pointed up towards the ceiling. You strain your ears, but you think you can hear her counting in Spanish. You can smell the gunpowder in the air, it's almost as thick as the tension. Then there's a different sound. A grunt of pain and the sound of a chair being broken.

"Thought you could really take us all on?! You're fucking daft!"

The gunslinger lets out a strained laugh, wiping the blood off the corner of his mouth. Splinters of the wooden chair catch in his curls. The man took a hit from the gorilla and is still standing. Well, more like leaning over the side of the bar for support, but nevertheless his eyes are still open.

"Daft is a big word for you Knucklehead. Gotta give it to you!" His voice sounds strained and broken. You catch the way he's struggling to breathe yet still has it in him to snap back.

Without thinking you take the shotgun from the bartender and before she can protest you lower the barrel towards the man. He seems surprised to see you jump up from behind the bar, he must have really not cared that you were there. But a loaded gun that can shoot slugs the size of an acorn sings a different tune.

"Now missy...this ain't got nothin' ta do with you. Yous don't wanna get yourself wrapped up in somethin' I don't think you can handle." Knucklehead's eyes lower to the gun in your hand, the gravity of the situation sinks in. Not enough for him to let the gunslinger’s throat go, but enough to where he's contemplating backing away.

"Let him go. Let him go and back away." You keep your voice steady, that nervous air about you slips away and a different mask comes on.

That mask you've had to wear every time you look danger in the eyes. You don't see a man choking a bounty hunter to death, you see a large target. A light you could snuff out with a twitch of your index finger. You can see it in his eyes, the way he looks down at Kyle, whose smirk has returned. Then back up at you, staring down the barrel of the shot gun. It's cold double barrel unblinking eyes.

"Whattya say Knucklehead... feelin' lucky?" Kyle is able to put a little distance between Knucklehead's hands and his throat. Enough to take another gasp of air and spout some cocky one-liner.

It must have pushed the brute over the edge because he went to move again. If you had to guess it would be to lift Kyle up and use him as a shield. But he doesn't get that far. Doesn't even make it past a muscle twitch because your trigger finger is faster. For the second time that night shots ring out, but this time it's only the bandits scream that fill the air. He goes flying back letting the red head go.

If it wasn't for the bartender, you would have gone flying back as well. The force of a shotgun wasn't something you were used to. Compared to your derringer’s little kicks, the shot gun was in a league all on its own. Her hands keep your body steady, holding you by the waist. She lets out a puff of smoke and sighs.

"Nice shot." Once she realizes you're okay to stand on your own, she breaks the silence with praise and lets you go.

"O-oh...um thanks." It makes your face flare up; the fact the entire bar’s attention is now on you. The wondering eyes make you squirm and want to shrink back down behind the bar.

"Shoot a man dead in his chest and ya get a little flustered over a compliment." Kyle laughs in between trying to catch his breath, his coughs sound painful.

You avert your eyes from him, like it will do your blushing face any favors. Trying to ignore the way his laugh makes your body burn. Something about it makes you feel a bit tingly. It's either that or the adrenaline coursing through your veins. They land on the man bleeding out on the floor. He's clutching his sides spouting so much profanity you feel like you need to confess at the church just hearing it.

Just as Kyle finally gets the ability to breath properly again, the sheriff and his men come bursting through the door. The same sheriff who you had a problem with. The same one who put you on this crazy path. Once again, things could never just be simple. Every little fucking thing had to get in your way.

His eyes fall on the man first, then on you. Then on the gun in your hands and you immediately groan. Of course, he had to come in just as you slugged a man. With a scoff, he gestures to his men to round up the other bleeding bandits. Kyle was able to take down the other group by himself. Their leader using the men as bait so he could close the distance.

You push the shotgun back into the bartenders’ hand and sigh. Kyle watches as you lift your skirt and put your foot on the counter. Without a second thought he offers you his hand and helps you down off the bar. You take it and allow yourself a quick smile. One the sheriff is quick to wipe away.

"It's always you. I guess I didn't make myself very clear." He says with a sneer. "I thought you were smarter than this, seems I was the one mistaken."

You shoot him a look, brows furrowed in confusion. "Sheriff, I didn't start this! I was just defending my um..."

Friend? Soon to be employee? Guy I just bought a drink for. Shot another man for?

"I wasn't talking to you woman!" He snaps, eyes flickering between yours and Kyle's. When they land on the man his eyes narrow. "Was talkin' about this one! Coming into my town, causing trouble! Think just because your daddy was a lawyer you're above the law!"

The look the red head gives him would be enough to kill. Death himself would answer that call. You watch a vein pop out from the side of his temple, his hat and hair barely covering it. Kyle didn't even show that much anger towards the man who threatened his life and interrupted his conversation.

"Sheriff Cartman I wouldn't have to come to this town and clean up your mess if you and your men did your fucking job!" Kyle hisses through gritted teeth, emphasizing the word this like he's reminding the sheriff the town doesn't belong to him.

"I should've known better than to think you could be anything but trouble! I should haul you in with the rest of 'em!" Cartman's voice is dangerous, completely immune to the looks he's getting from Kyle.

"On what grounds?!"

"On the grounds that I'm the fucking sheriff and I'm sick and tired of your bullshit!"

"That ain't enough to bring me in you fat son of a bitch!"

"Let's go ahead and tack on threatenin’ a man of the law to that too! Wanna keep going Kyle?!"

Cartman uses his first name so casually. The air grows heavy again as the two men get into each other space. Neither go for their weapons instead fingers curl around the collar of each other's shirt. Kyle looks like a lit fuse ready to blow and Cartman is just adding fuel to an already dangerous fire.

"A-Actually Sheriff! If I may!" You don't know what compelled you to put yourself in between the two bickering men. Guess there was a little left in the old adrenaline tank, taking down a man twice your size will do that to you.

"What?! Get in my way and I'll make sure to slap you with a fine as well! Helping a criminal won't look good on your record!"

"Criminal!?"

"Gentleman! I believe the lady is trying to talk! Now you either let her talk, or you take this shit outside!" The bartender cuts them both off by slamming her hands on her bar. Her voice isn't loud but it's enough to make both men stop.

The sheriff mumbles something under his breath that makes the bartender narrow her eyes. He turns to you giving you the floor.

"Sheriff just...please hear me out." You've dealt with men like the sheriff before. Men who think they're the smartest man in the room, so it's best to just make them think they're right.

"Fine. Go ahead."

"Thank you. Y-you see...I was just following your advice! You told me to find some help and that's what I did!" As you explain yourself Kyle's brows furrow in confusion. "I was looking to hire Mr. Broflovski here."

"Didn't realize you were selling yourself out now Kyle. Bounty hunting too hard for you?" The sound Kyle's teeth makes as they grind together makes your breath hitch.

"If Mr. Broflovski here agrees, I'd like for him to take me out west. If you think about it this is the best outcome. You wouldn't have to deal with me anymore and I'd be taking him with me."

"Now hold on-"

Cartman cuts him off like he's not even there, at this point Kyle's face matches his hair. "You're leaving? Jesus christ why didn't you lead with that!"

"Yeah..." You smile and let out a little sigh, the whole situation would be a lot funnier if it wasn’t you.

"I tell you what...you leave tonight. You and that ginger fuck get out of my town, my state, my side of the country! I'll give you an hour and if you're not out of here. I'll run you down like dogs!" Sheriff Cartman looks pleased with himself and the whole idea, but the more he speaks the more it comes through gritted teeth.

"Two hours."

"One and a half, only because I'm in a good mood." He clicks his tongue and turns on his heel. "Plus, however long it takes for my useless deputy to book these assholes." Cartman turns his back on both of you and walks towards his posse.

Great. You had an hour and a half to get out of town and you hadn't even asked the famous gunslinger if he was even willing to do this.

"Well, I reckon we outta be on our way." Kyle breaks your thoughts with the sound of his voice.

You look up at him with your eyes widened. He smiles down at you and flicks up his hat, moving the brim out of his face.

"No need to look at me like that. You told the Sheriff we'd be outta here so let's get a move on." He speaks.

Kyle makes his way towards the double doors without so much as a goodbye. You go to follow him but stop, turning back towards the woman behind the bar who is just picking up the broken glass scattered around the bar.

"Um...ma'am." When you call out for her, she turns and looks in your direction.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

".... You’re welcome, now get outta here. You wouldn't last a day behind bars, so go on. Get."

A soft smile plays on your lips. She was right, you had a long road ahead of you.

The bartender looks back over her shoulder when she hears the double doors close again. She let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. As she stands up with the metal pan filled with broken glass, her head lulls to the side.

"What I wouldn't give to be a tumbleweed following them. Ya got your work cut out for you Broflovski." A smirk plays on her lips.

Kyle leads you out towards the stables where he kept his horse. She was a pretty horse, a blend of brown and whites painting down her back. She doesn't stir much until Kyle gets closer, when he's within reach she bends down and presses her head against his hand.

He smiles and touches the side of her face, petting the sides gently. There was that soft and warm feeling you got when he first sat down next to you. Even after the bar fight and the whirlwind of events that happened, he found a way to go back to being so gentle. When he turns to look back at you, you quickly find something else to look at. Suddenly the saddle on the back of his horse looks so very interesting.

"I don't s'pose you got your own horse, do ya?" he asks as he unhitches his horse from the post.

"No, I don't. I... wouldn’t even know how to go about riding one." That seems to catch him off guard.

"Hm... We’ll have plenty of time to fix that. For now." Kyle walks over to you and whispers a, ‘pardon me'. His gloved hands cup your hips and lift you up. He lifts you like a child would their doll, like you weigh nothing. He sets you down on the back of his horse, guiding your legs over the side of the large creature.

It feels so strange, the way something so powerful just stands there letting him do it. You cling to the saddle for dear life as it takes a few steps forward and then back. If you had to guess she was just as surprised as you were.

Kyle swings himself up onto the horse shortly after. He puts his arms around your waist, being oh so careful on where he lets his arms rest. His hands find the reigns and it forces him to get closer. Close enough to where you can feel his chest against your back.

You can feel his heart beating against his chest, it makes you feel a little better knowing he seems to be just as nervous as you. At the very least that's what you're telling yourself. You can't see his face, unable to move any part of your body out of fear of falling off.

No, you can't see the blush that’s creeping across his freckled face. Can't see the way it trails down his neck, disappearing behind the layers of his clothes. You would never know how much he's mentally screaming at himself to get a grip.

"Gonna be a little uncomfortable at first. Just bear with me for a while. As soon as we hit the next town, we'll see what we can do about gettin' you your own horse." With that he clicks his tongue and snaps the reigns.

You let out the smallest squeak as the horse goes from a gentle little trot to a full-on sprint. Your hands fly out to grab onto Kyle's arms using the cowboy to steady yourself. A part of you thinks about asking him to just go ahead and drop you off at the holding cell. At least then you could die behind bars and never make such embarrassing noises again. The other part of you felt a twinge of excitement when you heard him chuckle. Feeling the way it made his chest vibrate low. It kept you warm against the cold wind that rushed past you.

It doesn't take long before Kyle feels your body go slack. He peers down at you and feels his heart leap up in his throat. You were tucked up against his chest, arms wrapped around your frame fast asleep. He only wishes that he could slow down so he can take off his sarape and bundle you up in it. Instead, he settles for pulling you closer, caging you in his arms. He'd do everything in his power to make sure the ride was at least a smooth one and by the time you'd wake up, hopefully, he'd have you out of town. And hopefully then he can get more details about this job he blindly accepted from you.

For now, he'd let you sleep as he rode out towards the moon. Nothing but the wind at his back and the large pale light to his front.

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