#that tag is a surprise tool to help us later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eyebagshawty · 3 months

Note

Hey, I really like your works! I wondered if you could make something about suicidal reader and astarion, gale, halsin and anyone you feel like.

But only if you're comfortable with it. Some general hurt/comfort would be ok. Best inspiration 💛

Blurbs for Male Companions Comforting a Suicidal Tav

Pairings: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Wyll

Warnings/Tags: some canon typical violence, suicidal thoughts/ideation, suicide attempt, angst, comfort, some are durge Tav, probably a dead dove do not eat situation

A/N: As someone who struggles with this type of thing daily, I really enjoyed expressing my interpretation of this; it was therapeutic in a way. These are blurbs, so it may not be as developed as I would like, but I hope you guys like it! Let me know if you want a part two with the ladies :)

Astarion

Marcus had kidnapped Isabelle. The sweet cleric had welcomed your party into the arms of Last Light Inn, and somehow you were too weak to save her. It was your fault.

Your. Fault.

Astarion had comforted you after, saying you couldn’t have known you would need every last bit of your magic to give your help. You couldn’t have known you would need to rest. It was just as much of a surprise to him, to Shadowheart, to Karlach. But the more you stare at Nettie’s wyvern toxin — more of a keepsake at this point than a tool for battle — the more you decide you should’ve known. Jaheira’s expression after Last Light had fallen, it’s burned into your memory. You had promised her your only intention was good, but there was still something in her eyes that showed blame.

As you watch your companions move around camp and settle next to the fire, your left hand subconsciously lifts your dagger from its holster; your right hand coming up to your mouth to open the seal of the wyvern toxin. Where could you even go from here? There was no moon lantern, but no reason to go back. You don’t even have anywhere to go back to if you think about it.

You really are a monster, the tadpole your own scarlet letter. The dagger is slathered with the wyvern toxin, and as you smile at your lover from across camp the dagger makes a shallow slice into your thigh just out of sight.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed guys, we’ve got a lot to plan tomorrow about where to go from here,” you mumble, your eyes slightly glazed from the poison entering your system. Your companions nod in agreement, each one heading to their tent to prepare for bed. Astarion, however, watches you. His brow furrows, and he’s about to offer for you to sleep in his tent again, but you’re already in front of him. “Hello love, I know it’s a bit early into, well, us. But I was wondering if I could sleep with you tonight.”

Astarion gently takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles. “Of course my sweet,” he whispers. But the closer you get to him, the weirder you smell. He can smell the familiar bouquet of your blood, just a trace of it, but there is a sour note in there. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” As he looks back up to your eyes you let out a sob you’d been holding since earlier that day. His eyes widen; he isn’t good at comfort but for you he can try. “Darling what’s wrong?” He prods, needing to help you in your state.

You feel you can’t verbalize it, so your tadpole nuzzles up to his, asking for entrance. He accepts, and the images of your actions, your thoughts, your feelings flood into his mind. After the connection breaks you crumple to the ground, the poison entering the later stages.

Astarion’s thoughts immediately clear as he stares down at you in horror. He gathers your body into his arms and runs to Shadowheart, your seemingly now small and delicate form writhing within them. Shadowheart stands as she sees him running. “What happened Astarion?” She sternly quips, her eyes softening at the sight of you.

“They… it was one of those winged horrors. It poisoned them. Please help them. Please.” Astarion looks down at your eyes as they twitch and gaze blankly towards the sky. Shadowheart eases an antidote and a greater health potion into your mouth. Once you have your faculties about you once more, you lean your face into Astarion’s chest and weep. “Shh my love, let’s get you to bed.”

He lays you down gently to the various pillows in his tent, his every vein screaming to run. He isn’t ready for this kind of care and work a relationship requires. What am I thinking? It’s Tav, not some sorry bloke from a tavern. Get yourself together.

“I’m sorry. That was a pathetic idea for me to have, I know you might not want to explore this any further and I’ll still help you with-“

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling,” he mutters as he strokes your cheek with his fingers. “I’ve been right where you are before. Nowhere to go further but nothing to go back to, hmm?” You nod and he gives you a sad smile. “I find that I’m more happy than ever to be alive right now. Well, unalive but that’s no matter. I have you. We will find a way to get that damned moon lantern. I’ll bite everyone in this camp to take a break for a day. Whatever you need. I’m here and I… I love you.” He definitely didn’t think of saying the L word now of all times, but as a surprise to him it feels perfectly right.

“I love you too. Please just hold me.”

And so he does.

Gale

As you wake to the blinding light of the sun, restraints tug at your wrists. The memories of the last night come flooding back into you. The fear in Gale’s eyes as you bit at him that he had tried to hide, the way you kept failing to break through the urges to speak to him. He was so sweet to you. He didn’t deserve it. You love him.

“Glad to have you back with us my love,” Gale whispers into your ear as he frees your wrists and ankles from the restraints. He helps you to your feet and leads you to the fire. “Breakfast is ready. You told me your favorite is an omelet with bacon and some tea?”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to do this for me. I was being dreadful to you,” you mutter, looking down at the food.

“Of course I did. Our love knows no bounds, right? Now, eat. Baldur and his gate are waiting for us.” He kisses your head and you force a smile, shoving the food into your mouth as if you aren’t sick to your stomach with yourself.

The fight in the astral prism had put everyone off kilter. When you had found out the protector in your dreams, the person you needed to trust with your life, was a mindflayer, you only wanted rip each tentacle off its face and eat them as it watched. You did trust it. You were just so deplorable you thought its intestines would look beautiful around its neck to hang outside of your tent as decoration.

You can’t stand yourself anymore. Not just your actions, but your body. The urges make your body hurt, make your head pound and your stomach wretch. You never see a person in the mirror, you see a diseased sack of flesh squealing to be kept alive.

Gale holds you in his lap, leaving soft kisses on your neck as he reads one of his unusually large tomes. You feel disgusting. You will never deserve something nice like this. “I’m going to go see if I can spot the city from that building over there love,” you whisper as you kiss his cheeks and stand up, your stomach twisting as he gazes at you with loving eyes. He can’t love this, can he?

“Do you want me to tag along? I love a good tower as much as the next wizard,” he asks softly as he rubs your sides with his warm hands. You shake your head and force another smile. His brow lightly furrows but he shakes it off and presses a kiss to your lips in parting.

You find yourself sitting on the edge of the tower roof overlooking all of Baldur’s Gate. It has been a couple of hours, and you decide you don’t want to know any more about Orin or the makings of the absolute. Something in your mind tells you it will be the end of a lot of things if you find out. You shakily stand, letting out a ragged breath as pebbles skitter off the edge from under your feet. You close your eyes, exhale, and lean forward, when you fly through the mist into Gale’s tent. You let out a broken cry as warm and strong arms wrap around you, smelling of parchment and tea leaves.

“My love, I’ve felt the immanence of our situation for a while, and when Mystra abandoned me I thought I was as good as a newborn gnoll, destined for nothing but madness. But darling, what were you thinking?” He mutters into your hair.

“The urges won’t- nothing will stop. At my core I’m evil, something to be exhausted. I can’t-“

“Tav, I wouldn’t be as in love with you as I am if these things you said about yourself were true. I would give up my tressym to Astarion if it meant I could relieve any of your pain. Don’t tell her I said that though, Tara would never let me hear the end of it.” You let out a quiet chuckle, his dry humor always helping. “Now let’s sleep, no matter what this packed and unforgiving city does to us we will get through it together.”

“I love you, please, please don’t leave.”

“I would never dream of it.”

Halsin

Orin has captured Gale, and you feel helpless. Did you really not know your friend well enough to see that a shapeshifter was in his place? You have known him for months at this point. And yet, it was your fault for not checking in with him. For getting in that petty fight over the crown of Karsus that made you both ignore each other.

As you and your party trudge once again through the sewers, Astarion and Shadowheart both bombard you with questions about their personal needs within the city.

“Shadowheart, I understand we need to go to the House of Grief but Gale could quite literally be dead right now,” you assert softly, trying to show that she means just as much to you.

“Ugh, Gale. Of all times we have to be in a pickle it has to be over him and right now,” Astarion mutters to himself. You try to push down your frustration but the smirk on his face pushes you over the edge combined with his next words, “You’re the one that’s supposed to be making the rounds, darling. I can take Shadowheart to the house, and you and bear boy can find the bootmuncher.”

As shameful as it is for you, tears burst from your eyes as anger and anxiety take over. “So go. I don’t care anymore since you have never gone out of your way for us. I… fuck!” You slam your sword onto the ground and walk yourself back to cool off.

As Astarion builds up his retort, hurt and defensiveness flashing across his expression, Halsin steps in front of you protectively. “Calm down, Astarion. This does not need to be a fight. Let’s just break for the day. Come, my heart.” As he takes your hand comfortingly in his, you feel a gnawing dread seeping into your bones. This was all your fault, and you keep burning bridges with people you care for and you don’t know how to stop.

At the end of the day you find yourself in the middle of the woods, further from camp than Halsin liked, but it was your privacy; you asked for it and he would respect it. You stared down at your sword, your hands jaunting out to hold it at an awkward angle towards your chest. It had been like this for around an hour; you couldn’t even do this correctly, thinking about how everyone would grimace if they found you like this . Fuck it.

As the knife glides through your padded armor, a large hand places itself on your shoulder. It’s warm, and it smells like herbs and cinnamon. “My heart, please. This is not the way. We’ve come so far on this journey, together, and almost nothing has ever gone wrong. Silvanus guide me, please speak. I need to hear that you are okay,” Halsin chokes out, his voice thick with concern.

“It’s just… I would have known if Gale was acting weird. If I hadn’t pushed him away. I’m doing the same to Astarion, I’ll do it to all of them. When someone goes Illithid it will be on me. Hells we’re taking a break and he could be anywhere.”

“As much as we all love you little one, there is no leader. Nobody could have seen that coming. I had choice words with Astarion, and he would love to speak with you. Everything is handled, I just need you to understand that we can take the weight off of your shoulders occasionally. I love you with everything inside of me. Please know that you are loved.”

The sword clatters to the dirt, and Halsin brings you into his arms; a bear hug in every sense of the term. “I guess I will need Astarion to sew this back up,” you mutter, finger the frayed threads above your heart.

“That sounds like a great idea, little one. I’ll put on some tea for when you’re done.” He kisses your head and walks you back to camp, his arms never leaving your waist.

After a cathartic conversation with your resident vampire, a big brown cave bear awaits you in your tent with blankets and tea.

Wyll

On the dock overlooking the Chionthar, a blade glares up at you from your worn fingers. The Netherbrain is dead, your friends are free from the things that bind them, but you don’t know if it’s the same for you. Nobody forced you to create the Illithid plot with Enver Gortash, nobody forced you to kill Alfira. Her face will haunt you forever, what you did to her in a cold sweat during the middle of the night.

Sure, you had given up Bhaal’s inheritance, but it was still your skin that was covered in blood. It was still your face that bit and spit at the urge’s victims. It was with your eyes that you looked down at Alfira’s cold and eviscerated body. Wither’s had resurrected you in the temple, but you still felt shame creep into your veins. You weren’t a new person, you just forgot.

You saw Wyll hugging Karlach, her new Illithid form unusual but still distinctly her. You want to be with him, you need him like breathing, but the guilt and regret is gnawing at your flesh like a newborn gnoll. Maybe he would be better off taking his role as grand duke by himself, the whole city would whisper of the mad adventurer that had to fight for forgiveness to their complicit nature in the plot. As the blade begins to take its final drink from your wrist, Wyll looks up and shouts your name.

An eldritch blast knocks the blade into the sea, and warm hands wrap gently around your wrist, and a handkerchief is pressed to the small nick. He smells sulfuric but sweet like cinnamon apples as he presses a worry-filled kiss to your head. It comforts you but it shouldn’t; you don’t deserve this. “My love, what is wrong? The netherbrain has fallen, Karlach lives, what could trouble you this much?” He whispers into your ear, making sure the others know this interaction is private.

“I can’t live with myself. I may have forgotten a good extent of my past, but I remember everything from that point on the nautiloid onward clear as a whistle. It’s too much to act like I’m this hero,” you whisper back, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Wyll lifts up your left hand, a ring glinting in the morning sun. He kisses the knuckle wearing it, and looks up into your eyes with a bittersweet smile. “I did not choose you to be the love of my life, my sun and stars, because I thought you were evil my love,” he kisses your cheeks and puts his forehead to yours. “That wasn’t the you I see before me, this wonderful creature who sees past my horns, past Astarion’s vampirism, past Gale’s orb godssakes,” he chuckles and you let out a quiet laugh.

“I just don’t want to be that again. Ever again,” you whisper as you glance at your joined hands. Wyll brings a hand to your cheek and kisses your lips with a tender touch.

“It will take time. Just like I have newfound bumps in weird places, I need to get used to those. It’s being human. Now come with me, future Ravengard, we have beers to slam with our friends.”

He helps you up, and pulls you into the tightest hug as if you could disappear. You walk into the brightening dawn to the Elfsong Tavern, making sure tease him about becoming the grand duke the entire way.

#fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 romance #gale dekarios #gale x reader #halsin x reader #halsin #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard #18+ content #please read tags #angst

394 notes · View notes

xmalereader · 8 months

Text

Simon Riley x Medic! Male Reader

—

|| Masterlist ||

—

Authors Note: I’m finally updating again 😫, I’ve been busy with my studies and advancing in my Japanese before I leave next year, gotta be prepared and working extra hours for the money 🤪, but either way. I was able to get a few requests completed and will make sure to update as much as I can!

Request: Remember the quest where graves seize all Los Vaqurous (Dunno the spelling sorry- ;-;) and have to kill both ghost and soap? What if Reader who is medic from Ghost Team and Graves saw the potential and decide to have Medic Reader for himself so he seize Reader too. Follow the plot of the game, they got Reader last after saving Alejandro and his team. Happy ending where Reader said "You found me... " and Ghost reply with "I always found you" :D

Warnings: Language, background, reader is a medic, soft ghost, slight angst, mentions of past trauma, Graves is a creep, Spanish language, Price likes reader.

Word Count: 1.9K

Tag: @keera9534

—

Y/n was the teams best medic, being picked by Price himself due to knowing how good he was at patching up the team and providing the proper medicine. He first joined the team when Price was in need to medical help after taking a bullet to the abdomen. When they brought him in, the nurses and doctors were far too frantic and full of worry as they ran around the medical wing checking on other wounded soldiers and trying to attend to them, leaving Price with no medical attention. The captain had tried to patch himself up since it wasn’t the first time that he’s gotten injured and had stitched himself up.

But the situation was far worse and the bullet had been lodged inside which made it difficult for Price to get it done himself. It wasn’t until one of the rookies quickly stepped up, attending Price and making sure that he’s given the proper attention. The captain was too drowsy to fight off the rookie due to blood lose that Y/n acted quickly, ignoring Prices cursing and pained groans while he worked on his wound, using the proper tools to remove the bullet and get him stitched up.

Price noticed how fast the rookie worked and how quick he is to stitch and patch him up. The captain was left in surprise and impressed by his work only for the rookie to get in trouble by doing something he wasn’t stationed to do. That same day Price took interest in the rookie and asked Laswell about him, getting his records and reading into his life and finding out that the young man had gone to the best medical schools and ended up here.

The kid was reckless, but knew what he was doing and Price liked that.

Y/n was the first to be recruited by Price, getting trained in combat and how to handle a gun in order to keep himself alive while out on the field with the others. After a few months Price later brings in Ghost into the team, scaring the poor rookie when they first met. The doctor found him intimidating due to his silence and the skull mask he wore, rarely talking to Y/n whenever the two were in the same room or whenever he was patching him up.

The two only spoke whenever they were on missions, but never in private.

The doctor figured that he wouldn’t be getting along with Ghost for really long time since they rarely spoke, only for that to change when one of the soldiers that he was helping started hitting on him. Flirting with him and finding excuses to see him whenever he was injured and the doctor grew irritated by it. It all happened when the Solider grew upset with Y/n ignoring his snarky flirting, cornering him and growing desperate only for Ghost to randomly appear behind man and pull him away from the doctor.

Ghost had given the man a deadly look that frightened the man easily and was quick to scurry away. Y/n appreciated Ghosts help and offered to buy him a drink as a thank you which Ghost easily accepts, giving the two a chance to finally talk with each other out of base and non work related. That night was all it took in order for their feelings to grow, sometimes tip towing around each other, but it was clear as day that the two liked each other deeply.

Their relationship deepened as the years went by to the point where they ended up dating for a two years, working together in the field along with Gaz, Soap, and Price. The three knew how inseparable both Ghost and Y/n were that it wasn’t a surprise when they were assigned to work under the Shadow Company, getting the know Graves who they followed orders from.

His time working with the Shadow company was strange. Y/n sensed that something wasn’t right when he was grounded by Graves and to stay in base and work as a doctor from there, which he did not like. Their were times where he tried to get in communication with Ghost and to tell him about the strange feeling he was getting only for his requests to speak with the lieutenant to be rejected which only made the feeling worse.

It wasn’t until the night that Graves decided to go against them that all hell broke loose.

The alarms of the base were going off and the sounds of shouting and protests were being heard.

Y/n was rushing out of the medical room, looking around with confusion and worry as a few soldiers were running around the place. “Que esta pasando?” He asks one of the soldiers running down the hallways as they quickly tell him that they are being rounded up in the main lobby. It doesn’t really reassure him about the alarms going off and heads towards the lobby.

“Round them up!”

“Get them in the cells!”

He stands over the lobby to see Graves shadows rounding up Alejandros men, pointing their guns at them and forcing them into cells. The image alone lets him be aware of what is going on, noticing one of the Shadows spotting him and calling out. “We have one on the balcony!”

“Shit!” Y/n is quick to duck down when they shoot their guns at him, making him run out of sight and trying to find a way out of base without getting killed.

He’s able to make it down the first floor without being detected only to turn the corner and come face to face with Graves. “Easy, doc.” He says while grabbing him by the arms, stopping his struggles when he noticed three shadows behind Graves and armed. “I ain’t gonna hurt you doc, your far too special.” Said Graves as Y/n glared at him, gritting his teeth in anger as he pulls his arm away from his hold. “I knew something was bad about you.” He points out while his eyes remain on Graves, keeping a close eye on him as the man chuckled. “Yeah, well, it’s already too late. Your friends are probably dead by now since my shadows are hunting them down as we speak.”

Y/n scoffs. ��I guess your leaving me for last to kill?”

Graves grins. “Oh. Oh no, you—“ He takes a slow step forward while Y/n takes one back. “You I will keep, your a good doctor and I will be needing you for sure, but for now I need to make sure you don’t escape.” Graves signals the three shadows towards Y/n, “Lock him up, separated from the others while I clean up this mess.”

Y/n takes a step back from the shadows and tries to fight back, kicking and punching them only for them to grab him by the arms and wrists and pining him against the wall, grunting and glaring before he’s dragged away from Graves who only watched with a sinister smirk on his face. He’s taken to his own cell, tossed inside without a care while they locket the door on him.

“Son of a bitch!” He shouts, slamming his firsts against the metal door and pulling on the handle, knowing that it wouldn’t work already. “I swear to god when I get out of here I am going to kill you!” He goes on, throwing out his own threats to anyone who can hear him. He doesn’t forget Graves’ words and how he was hunting down his team for all he knows both Soap and Ghost could be dead, but refuses to believe it. Soap was a great shot and Ghost.

Well, he was something else.

A simple shadow couldn’t kill him.

Simon had been through far worse condition. When they were a few months into their relationship and the trust between the two was growing, Simon had gained the courage to finally talk to Y/n about his past. When Simon told him about his time as a kid and the way his father treated him made the doctor realize how bad his life really was and the reason why he joined the British military. Y/n didn’t judge Simon nor did he ever bring up his traumas whenever they were alone, only thinking about it in silence.

Their conversation deepened their bond and the two grew closer than ever.

While Y/n paced around the room he tries to figure out a way out of this cell, checking every crook and cranny as his fingers skim over the barred windows only to curser under his breath when he doesn’t find anything. “Dammit, Alejandro this place is sealed.” He mumbled out to himself.

He checks under the bed, hoping to find anything that could help him and crawls underneath. “This could work.” He finds the metal bed frame to be rusty, crawling out and using his strength to kick a piece off, groaning with each kick until the metal piece falls off, taking it in his hand and working quickly to scrape it against the concrete floor, sharpening it enough to use as a weapon.

Before he could finish up the sound of gun shots is heard from outside his cell, causing him to freeze as the alarms of the base are going off again. He doesn’t stop to think and quickly continues to sharpen the metal and quickly finished up. He holds it in his hand tight while standing close to the doorway, preparing for anyone who comes in.

The sound of gun shots grows louder, hearing muffled shouts in the background as he keeps his eyes on the metal door. The sound of tumbling bodies gets him alerted while holding up the sharpened metal piece, moving closer to the door as chains rattle on the other end, he pressed himself against the corner as the door is prided open.

The doctor doesn’t think and is quick to react, swinging his arm down at the shadow entering his cell, but his hit us quickly blocked. He kicks his leg and brings him down on his knee, using his other arm to wrap around his neck and hold the sharpened blade against his neck.

“Y/n!”

The sound of a familiar voice gets his attention, looking up to see Simon standing on the other side of the door along with Rudy and Alejandro who stared with wide eyes by how fast he is to defend himself. “Ghost?” He breaths out, looking down to see who he has in a headlock only to see Soap. “Shit, Soap—“ He quickly lets go of him and lowered down his own weapon.

“No worries, mate. Understandable reaction.” Said Soap with a nervous laugh while slowly getting up from where he kneeled.

“I thought…” Y/n starts, eyes focused on Ghost who approached him slowly, taking the blade from his hand and tossing it aside while the doctor stares at Ghost. “I didn’t think you’d come for me.” He whispers and Ghost gives off a soft chuckle. “I’ll always come for you.” He responds back, reminding the doctor that he would never leave him behind.

“Come on, lets get out of here and get somewhere safe.” Alejandro is quick to speak up while they leave the cell and help out Alejandro’s man out of their own cells. “Here.” Ghost reached for one of his pistols and hands it to Y/n who takes it into his own hands and cocks the gun. “Why do I get the small one?” He pouts out, getting a reaction from the other man who rolled his eyes. “You’ll get a bigger one once we are out of here.” Y/n chuckled softly at his response. “That’s a promise.” He whispers loud enough for Ghost to hear before following the others out, getting them to safety.

#simon riley x reader #Simon Riley x male reader #ghost x male reader #male reader #mw2 ghost #Simon Riley #medic male reader #medic reader #mw2

816 notes · View notes

mayullla · 1 year

Text

Title: Building a Lover

Character(s): Nathan (Original character / Original work)

Summary: There was an app on your phone that just never seems to leave even as you constantly tried to delete it. It looked like a game and one day waiting for food at your friends how you thought that maybe you should try it one time?

Warnings/tags: Fem!reader, yandere so obsession and possession themes, accidental brainwashing, manipulation, the reader broke up with her boyfriend like a little while ago (mentions of cheating), very self-indulgent

It was a suspicious app, a pink heart but somehow didn't have a name on the bottom telling what it was. It just suddenly appeared on your phone one day much to your surprise.

You were surprised when you saw it, which quickly turn to suspicion as you wondered when you download such an app. Surely you would remember downloading such an app, with a big pink heart in it.

It was too suspicious so instead of clicking it, you deleted it instead. You thought that was the end of it and if it was something important that you forgot about you could download it again.

Yet… it was back the next day.

Your suspension grew when you saw it in the morning when you woke up. It came back the next day, you deleted it again. Every single time you deleted this app it would come back the next day, you were frustrated by it you didn't understand why it was there.

But at one point you just gave up, choosing to leave the thing there when you checked to see how much space it was clogging up your phone only to see that it was barely taking any space at all. You ignored the whole app together, placing it in the corner of your phone so as not to see it often as you went through your life.

That was it, well till you grew curious one day.

It was a mistake really, a mistake! You were at your best friend's home lying on his sofa as he walked around in the kitchen getting dinner ready as he had invited you to eat at his place that day and watch something. While he was making something to eat you were in charge of searching for something to watch.

Lying on his sofa with nothing to do, you were scrolling through your phone searching for something interesting only to notice the app.

*Build a lover?* It asked. You snorted at how stupid the whole thing was, it was something you would have been surely interested in when you were like in high school. But again with nothing to do you hugged the pillow as you clicked to proceed.

Your eyes widen a little taken back by all the options, when you thought this would be a short list it almost felt never ending as you scrolled down and down and down the list. It was a saving grace that you found a search tool in the corner of the screen.

You clicked the search tool but before you could it could take you away to a separate search bar something caught your eye.

[Obsessive]

Really you should not pick it, the word was just red flags all over. Yet you could not help but remember your ex-boyfriend who cheated on you just a few weeks ago. You were still hurt by it... still healing as you watched him fawn over this other woman you didn't know. He tried to excuse himself later but in the end, you two broke up with him screaming at you.

You cried so much, unable to motivate yourself at all except for the really basic things but even eating was tiring and you constantly had to tell yourself to shower before you even did. It was your friend Nathan who help you out.

You tried to move past it and instead used the search tool for words like [Loyal], [Caring], and [Comforting] you picked words that you wished for your boyfriend. He was supposed to be everything but that really.

[Good Listener] [Reliable] [Intelligent]

You smiled at your slowly growing list, even though you picked almost all the good things and could only dream to get a boy like it was a stress reliever in a sense. Yet when you saw some recommended words your fingers paused as you stared at them.

Was it a bad idea? You thought mentally, as the option [Obsessive] appeared again. Really it should be fine, it should be after all it was nothing but an app. Nothing could happen really. You were nothing but just making a guilt fantasy boyfriend at this point.

It was only a one time thing, nothing would happen.

[Obsessive] [Touch starved] [Clingy] [Possessive]

You clicked, clicked and click anything that you were interested in even if they were a little much or rather taboo. You even snorted when you saw the dere types there yet instead of ignoring it you clicked [Yandere].

It should be fine right? Nothing would happen… it's just for fun.

You looked at the numbers of how many words you clicked too, rather satisfied you clicked [finished] wondering what was next.

*Choose a target*

The screen turned on your camera again, surprising you. What did it mean to choose a target? You didn't understand at all what it wanted yet your curiosity got the better of you as you looked around the house.

Nobody was around except for your friend Nathan, who was at the stove cooking. Feeling your stare he looked at you "Hmm? What is the matter, did you find something to watch?"

You bite your lip and shook your head, still searching. "Well you still have time to search.... Tho I am almost done." He told you as he looked at the stove again.

".... Thanks Nath…" You told him meekly an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach as you glance at your phone and then at him.

"Ho? Why are you acting so cute all of the sudden? Normally you would complain that I am taking too long." He glanced back with a teasing smile on his face. You rolled your eyes at him, what else could you do when you could smell the delicious scent of the food that he makes? You swear that even your favorite restaurant could not be able to beat him and his cooking.

Nathan was a friend that you made at high school, he was an exchange student who came from the big city to your town. You were his first friend back then as you became his seatmate.

Nathan became popular fast, hanging out with the boys while occasionally he would get a love letter from a girl. He was always popular but at the same time he always made time to talk to you.

You and him stayed in touch even after graduation and even through college while he went to an expensive university you choose somewhere where you could handle the dept it would put you in later but at the same time could land you may be a decent job.

Nathan in your eyes was almost perfect… too perfect actually. Even in high school, it was hard to find a flaw in him. Handsome with ginger red hair and brown eyes, your classmates always said he looked like a rabbit while other say he looked more like a fox.

He was talented in everything he does, from the subjects at school and a great high-paying job you were envious of and probably rich parents when you look at the luxurious flat that he lived in. You always wondered why he was friends with you.

Any girl would be lucky to marry him really, some people asked back then why you too arn't dating when you were so close yet you didn't understand why they would ask.

He was your friend?

There was a chime from your phone, a small buzz as you looked down at it again.

*Pick a target.* the screen reminded you almost impatiently. Sighing you looked at Nathan again pulling your phone up so that he would come to your screen when your phone buzzed again.

*target found.*

*Initiating changes*

What?

*0%* *6%*

You almost jumped on your seat when you saw the loading screen and your mind panicked when you tried to search for the cancel button.

*26%* *43%*

Multiple times you clicked the exit button or back button yet it just would not exit the loading progress nor the app itself. Your phone was stuck as you watch the numbers slowly climb up.

*68%* *82%*

"Something the matter?" You jumped at your friend's voice looking at him as you stutter out your reply. "N-nothing is the matter!" You tried to say glancing at your phone again and cursing when you saw the number.

*97%* *99%*

*Changes complete.*

You jumped again at the sound, as you look at Nathan in panic. Yet all he did was look at you oddly wondering what has gotten into you, you looked at his eyes clearly without any fog in them. You looked at his physics searching for something that could mean something that looked like it could be connected to the app.

Yet you saw nothing.

"Are you all right?" "Ah... yeah, I am fine." Nathan looked at you oddly as you looked at him with not so hidden guilt unable to act like everything was normal when this happened so suddenly. What do you do? What do you do??

"Let's eat then? The food will get cold if you say there." "Ah- sure!"

You could not help but watch Nathan as you two eat, you had bumped into your water and pepper shake as your eyes were not on your plate but at him.

Did something change? You could not focus on the food as you constantly glance at him.

"You are seriously acting weird right now? What is the matter." Nathan asked his face slightly annoyed that made you flinch a little.

Hesitantly you placed your utensils on the table suddenly unable to look him straight in the eyes for too long. "Say... Nathan… Do you perhaps feel anything weird?" You awkwardly asked.

"I think I should be asking you that." Nathan raised a brow at you, trying to understand what was the matter with you. "No uhhh... do you feel like... your eyes are a little hazy or fuzzy... or like any obsessive feelings?" "I am fine. But I am seriously wondering if you are okay tho."

"I- I am alright." You told him, sighing as if you didn't understand what he was talking about he let it go smiling at the food then you. "Well then let's eat, I am sure you were hungry that you would act so strange."

He acted the way he was supposed to you thought, you glanced at your phone wondering if it okay to let it go but when the smell of the food hits your nose you decided to forget the whole thing together in favor of actually properly eating the delicious meal.

"So how was the food?" Nathan asked having finished his first and waiting for you to do the same, watching you gobble up his food and nod at him made him smile a bit "I am glad you like it then. Well anyway, did you decide what we are gonna watch?"

You shook your head covering your mouth full of food. He suggested that you and him search through the channels, and that was what you did taking the dishes you and him hopped on the sofa, him with the remote control and you with your phone.

Glancing at your phone it was still somehow on, still on the app with bold letters that they have completed the process. Even now no matter how many times you clicked the exit button nothing changed, it made you nervous if not frustrated and unsure.

Sighing you glanced at Nathan again, staring at his earrings then his face. Was it really okay, you thought to yourself. It should be fine no? After all how can an app change a person?

"You are acting strange, ____." You snapped out of your thoughts to see him looking at you almost glaring frustrated but was concern in his eyes. His eyes narrowed even more as if he realized something, "Is… That guy still in your mind?"

That wasn't it... but his words still felt like an arrow to your heart forced to bring the face of the man you once dated to mind. Unable to answer, unsure what to say you unconsciously looked away.

"No… I am fine."

"You shouldn't lie." He didn't believe you. Moving closer to you on the sofa. "I have known you since high school it would be a disappointment if I didn't know what was going on in your head." He raised an eyebrow and grinned. You pulled back away from him slightly forcing yourself to the corner of the seat.

"You always have been so trusting, so caring. You basically gave your heart to that guy asking for nothing back." He scoffed at his own words, his words bitter even with a cruel smile on his face.

Your heart shook, hurt by his words yet you were silenced before you could speak as he still had something to say. "I am glad that you broke up with that guy. So glad that you broke up with him... He was so annoying with his hands all over you." You tried to push yourself back more but could not as he leaned closer to you taking away your personal space. His words aggressive made you afraid for the first time.

You never saw this side of him, this was the first. He was always so sweet while being a bit of a tease. But he cared, he cared a lot about you and always has been there for you. Maybe you knew about this aggressive nature of his but it was never directed to you till now.

He noticed your fear yet his smile widen, "What is the matter? It is true. I didn't like him even the first time we meet, never trusted him at all. You know how shocked I was when I heard you started dating him. I want to grab you by your shoulders and shake them demanding why you would ever date an ass like him."

"But I can't, when I saw you smiling so sweetly for him. It ate my insides but hey I can't just drag you away from the guy. People would notice and they would take you away from me." Nathan was so close to your face, staring into your eyes, you tried to look away from him, tried to leave the sofa but he blocked your exit with his arm.

"I always admired you, _____." Nathan chuckled the emotion in your eyes, fear and anxiety "I am serious, for you I will do anything so long as you are with me. I liked you a lot even when we were at high school just that I never had the confidence to actually confess to you."

"I loved you so much it was driving me insane."

"I loved you so much it was unbearable when I saw you with someone else but I just stayed quiet because I want you to be happy. I just thought that you would want the same for me..." Hostility in his eyes, you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. He was crazy. When he loved you so much to the point he would watch from a far unable to do anything because he wanted to see you continue to smile yet at the same time feels betrayed as he somehow expected you to feel the same way.

Nathan's arms wrapped around your midriff hugging you so tightly as he continued to look at you on the same height level when he was way taller than you standing up, "Give me a chance, ____. Give me a chance and I promise I will make you happy."

There was desperation but also obsession in his eyes, so obvious as if they were hearts. It scared you, yet his hold on your waist was tight and suffocating making you unable to do anything.

You glanced at your phone, instead of the app all you saw was a black screen.

You did this.

How will you put everything back together?

Note: Now the question is if the app actually works or if everything was just a coincidence? Who know~ but seriously this has been stuck in my drafts for months m. o. n. t. h. s. because I felt it was too self-indulgent. But hey it is here now I guess

1K notes · View notes

thetravelerwrites · 12 days

Text

Margaret and Rourke (Part 1)

Rating: Mature Relationships: Female Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Lovers, Interspecies Romance, Orcs, Older Man/Younger Woman Content Warnings: Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Physical Violence, Mentions of Torture, References to Sexual Assault Resulting in Pregnancy Series: Part 18 of Shelter Forest: The Towns Words: 4,238

The reader's mother from Akjan's fic and her orc hubby get their own fic! After her daughter is taken away from her to be married to an orc chieftain she's never met, Margaret worries she'll never see her again. An orc arrives with news of her daughter and promises to help them reunite. Please leave feedback!

Your daughter had been gone for two months already. The count had ripped her from your arms in an instant on the day of her eighteenth birthday and gave you little to no time to say goodbye. You could only hope that she was well and being treated properly wherever she was, but you had no way to know for sure. You were anxious constantly, unaware if she was healthy or fed properly or even alive, but the idea that she could be somewhere out there, safe and happy, was the only comfort you found in your day to day life.

You were in a lot of pain at the moment. Moving around was difficult, and you struggled to complete your normal tasks. The madam had whipped you mercilessly just the day before for the unspeakable crime of passing in front of her when she was in a bad mood. She’d always been unkind to you, but since she discovered that your daughter, Catherine, was indeed the child of the Count, she had become the human embodiment of cruelty, turning the typical punishments she doled out onto you into nothing short of torture. You had no friends to turn to, since everyone in the manor knew you were the Countess’s favorite punching bag, so they would earn themselves no favors by being kind to you. Without Catherine there to lean on anymore, it was becoming harder to endure the beatings.

As you were working, you saw David, a butler that had been hired recently. His face fell in sympathy as soon as he saw you, likely due to the bruising on your face and the split lip you were sporting. He was one of the few that treated you kindly.

“Margaret, I’m glad I caught you,” He said. “I need your help.”

“My help?” You asked. “I’ll do my best. What can I help with?”

“The master has given me a task in town, but I don’t know my way around quite yet. Could you help me find the…” He consulted a piece of paper in his hand. “The Periwinkle Florist? The master is having guests later this evening and wants new flowers for the foyer and receiving room. Do you know where it is?”

“Oh, yes, I do,” You told him. “It’s quite far, though. I’m surprised Master wants us to go so far out of the way for fresh flowers.”

“You know how the master is,” David said, rolling his eyes. “He wants what he wants.”

Margaret laughed nervously. “Yes. Should we go now? It’ll take us at least an hour to get there and an hour back.”

“That would be best, if we want to return before nightfall,” David agreed. “Are you ready to go as you are?”

“Oh, I just need to grab my shawl and we can go,” You replied, taking a step toward the servants’ quarters.

“Best be quick,” He said. “I’ll wait by the rear door.”

Nodding, you quick-stepped back to your tiny closet and grabbed your crocheted shawl, old and repaired many times. Something felt off about the room, like something was missing, but you figured it was just because Catherine was no longer there, so it felt terribly empty.

You met David, who was carrying a large produce bag, by the back door that led out to the back of the estate, where there were the stables on one side and the tool sheds on the other. Between them was a road used exclusively by the servants into and out of the estate. The two of you set off down it, heading toward the middle ring of the city, where most of the shops were located.

David was pleasant company, engaging you in light small talk to pass the time. He asked about your daughter, which you were only too happy to talk about, and told you about his wife and son, to whom he was sending all of his money. Hearing him fondly describe his son as a “tiny terror” made you smile.

Finally, you arrived, but instead of entering the shop, David directed you to the back of the building. Confused, you followed him. Standing there was an orc whittling a small block of wood. He had long, single-braided dark hair and bright eyes, dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, and a rucksack was set against the wall next to him. He was more slender than most orcs you’d ever seen, though he was tall and had tight, strappy muscles on his arms. He looked up as you approached, though he paused momentarily when he saw you, staring and slack-jawed. His eyebrows drew down into a small frown briefly, gone instantly, though you weren’t sure what that was about. The sight of a man you’d never met before, a physically powerful one at that, filled you with no small amount of terror. Being alone with two men who could easily overpower you made you even less comfortable.

“Who…?” You asked, turning to David.

“Don’t be afraid, Ms. Margaret. This is an associate of mine, Rourke,” David said.

“I… I don’t… What are we doing here, David?” You asked him, becoming very worried and starting to back away.

The orc named Rourke approached the two of you slowly as if approaching a skittish animal.

“Are you Ms. Margaret? Miss Catherine’s mother?” He asked you, and your heart jumped into your throat. Forgetting your fear momentarily, you reached out desperately to clutch his arm.

“Is she alright? Is she safe? Where is she?”

“She’s fine,” Rourke said reassuringly. “She’s married to the chief of the Willowshield Stronghold and being given the respect she’s due as the chieftain’s wife, so you have no reason to worry. We’re here to take you to her.”

“Take me… I…” You hesitated and looked backward in the general direction of the Count’s manor, though it wasn’t in view. “We’re leaving now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rourke said. “We have to move quickly. If we don’t leave now, we may not have another chance to leave without the Count knowing. I’m sure he’ll realize it sooner rather than later, but we can get a head start if we leave now.”

Anxiety welled up in you, present at all times, but vastly more intense at the moment than normal. You’d never been outside of the city before and had no idea what to expect from the outside world, and you didn’t know these men at all nor have any reason to believe or trust them, but… your baby girl was out there. If there was any chance of seeing her again, you would have to place your trust in strangers.

“I didn’t bring my things,” You replied weakly.

David reached into the large bag he’d brought with him and wrestled out a second smaller bag, which you recognized as your own carpet bag, where you kept your meager treasures. You had bought it ages ago when you first tried to leave the manor, but finding out you were with child had stopped you. As bad as the manor was, even though you were paid pennies, you were still paid. You were fed. There was a bed underneath you and a roof overhead. And… you didn’t know where else you could have gone, anyway. You had been there all your life.

Now… you had that chance. The chance to run.

Looking up at the two men, tears of both fear and hope filling your eyes, and you nodded.

“Alright.”

The three of you managed to get out of the city wall before nightfall, but were forced to camp outside mere feet from it. The two men had set up a small but charming tent for you to use, though they themselves would be sleeping outside. As they went about setting up the camp, building the fire, and cooking an evening meal, you sat there for the first time with nothing in your hands, unsure of what to do.

“Can I help with something?” You asked them.

Rourke smiled at you kindly. “No, Ms. Margaret, we’ve got it well in hand. You rest your bones for a little while. We’ll take care of this.”

Sitting still felt unnatural, but you sat and watched them bustle around. As David stirred the pot over the fire, Rourke retrieved a jar from his bags and came close. You resisted the urge to back away.

“May I sit with you, Ms. Margaret?” He asked. When you nodded, he sat on an upturned log next to you. “This is an ointment our stronghold’s medicine woman made. It’s magic on bruises. Would you mind if I applied a little? That black eye looks nasty.”

“Oh,” You said, looking down to hide behind your hair a little. “Yes, alright.”

“Look up for me, Ms. Margaret,” He said gently.

Carefully, he pulled your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ears. You looked up, surprised by how close he was. This close, you could see he had the prettiest deep brown eyes, glittering like stars in the flickering firelight. They were the same color as clean tilled earth, or savory soup that nourishes the body and soul, or a warm blanket of wool that keeps out the winter chill. They reminded you of every comforting thing you’d ever experienced in your lifetime. You found yourself blushing as those thoughts filled your head, trying to put them out of mind.

“I’m surprised you have a grown child, Ms. Margaret,” Rourke said. You assumed he was attempting to make small talk.

“Why’s that?”

“You look far too young. How old are you, if I might ask?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

“Is it?” He asked, tilting his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. That’s not something orc women care about. In fact, orc women like to brag about their age. Each year they live is a year they beat death. As much as we cherish the idea of dying honorably in battle, we also really like bragging.”

You laughed. “I’m thirty-three.”

“So young!” He said. “You were still just a girl when Mis Catherine was born, eh?”

Your smile faded. “Fifteen, yes.”

He clicked his tongue. “Far too young. I’m amazed you were able to raise a babe when you were hardly more than a babe yourself.”

“Why, how old are you?”

“Fifty-two.”

You pulled back to look at his face. “You're one to talk about not looking one’s age! You barely look out of your thirties! I can’t believe you’re almost twenty years older than I am.”

He laughed. “Well, thank you for the compliment. My daughter complains that we look much more like siblings than parent and child, but I don’t know if that’s a compliment for me or self-deprecation for her.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Oh, yes,” Rourke said. “Just about the same age as Miss Catherine, in fact. She’s my pride and joy. Lost her mother when she was young, so it’s just been me and her ever since then.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, Ms. Margaret. It was long ago now.”

“Still. You have my sincerest sympathies.”

“I appreciate it. This is pretty bad, by the way,” Rourke said, wincing in sympathy as he applied the ointment to your eye. “What happened?”

“Oh, I…” You looked down and away, careful not to tilt your head out of his reach. “I… it… just happened.”

He paused momentarily before continuing, regarding you soberly.

“Does it ‘just happen’ often?” He asked softly.

“I… I’m a poor worker,” You said quietly. “I’m too slow and lazy, so… I require more… correction than the others do.”

He spread a little of the ointment on the split in your lip, his touch feather soft, before he sat back and gazed at you.

“I can’t claim you know you or your work ethic, Ms. Margaret,” He said. “But no one deserves this kind of punishment. That I do know.”

You looked down and didn’t respond.

Rourke sighed. “Do you know how to ride a horse?”

You looked back up at him. “No.”

“I thought so. We brought two horses with us, two of the fastest in the stronghold, but it seems like you’ll have to ride with one of us. Is that alright?”

You nodded. “That’s fine. I just want to get back to my baby.”

“She’s a lucky lady, to have a mother like you,” Rourke said with a smile. “She’ll be happy to see you. It’ll be a nice surprise.”

“She doesn’t know I’m coming?” You asked.

Rourke shook his head, his long ears waggling. “The Count tried to make Chief Akjan believe that Miss Catherine was a legitimate daughter of his, but Chief Akjan had a feeling there was more to the story than he was told, so he had us do some investigating.” He motioned at David. “David realized the true story from listening to the manor’s gossip. After observing you and sending word back, Akjan sent me to retrieve David and see if you were willing to make the journey with us. Although…” He glanced at your face again and sighed. “Seeing how bad things are, I shouldn’t have delayed so long. I should have been here sooner. I apologize for that.” Rourke took a bowl from David and handed it to you. “Here. David’s not a great cook, but it’ll be better than twigs, certainly.”

“I cook better than you, you lout!” David said indignantly.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Well, he hadn’t been lying: the meal was a little rough, basically just jerky boiled in water, but it was filling enough and made you feel warm inside.

“We should sleep early,” Rourke said, holding his hand out to help you stand. “We’ll be getting up before dawn to go pick up the horses and start toward the stronghold.”

“You didn’t have to put up a tent for me, I can sleep on the ground,” You told him, looking inside. It was just a bedroll on top of a riding blanket, but it looked charming and comfortable.

“Nonsense!” Rourke said. “I’d never made a lady sleep on the cold, hard ground! No, no, you get in there and get comfy, I’ll be right outside keeping watch. Get yourself some rest, Ms. Margaret. Goodnight.”

Ducking into the tent, you laid your tired body down on the bed and covered yourself, the aches in your body intensifying as you tried to relax. Once he saw that you were in the bed and down for the night, Rourke stationed himself at the mouth of the tent, his back to you, having a muted conversation with David that you couldn’t make sense of. Despite being outside of the city walls for the first time in your life and headed toward an uncertain future, seeing Rourke’s back blocking out the dangers of the world made you feel a strange sense of security. Almost immediately, you fell asleep.

They managed to make a trip that would normally take two weeks in a mere five days. They rode pretty hard for the first few days, though Margaret needed several breaks throughout the days in order to recover, since horse riding when you weren’t used to it could be quite punishing on the body. She was eternally grateful for that bruise ointment, which Rourke had gifted her.

Margaret rode with Rourke for most of the trip, since his horse was larger, but being in close proximity with men made her wildly uncomfortable. She simply had to swallow down her discomfort to make it to the end.

For Catherine, She kept telling herself. I can do it for Catherine.

They eventually arrived in a town bustling with activity. It wasn’t anywhere close to being as busy as the city, but it was more lively and less noisy. Riding straight up the middle lane, they reached a tall wall made of wooden pikes and a large gate with sentries patrolling the top.

“Here we are,” Rouke said. “Welcome to the Willowshield stronghold.”

“Catherine is inside?” You asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rourke replied. “She’s just inside.”

Hope and expectation welled up in your chest. “She’s just inside,” You repeated softly.

Rourke chuckled a little, his breath stirring your hair. “Not long now.”

The doors of the gate opened slowly, and the interior of the stronghold revealed itself. There were cottages dotting the landscape, with two long bunkhouses to the left and right, a large building at the top of the hill, and in the very center right beyond the gates, a longhouse that seemed to serve as a town hall. The stronghold was just as bustling as the town outside, and despite being a closed community, it was far more inviting than any place you’d been yet.

“We must report in to Chief Akjan,” Rourke said as he jumped down from the horse. He reached up to help you down, and then handed off the reins of the horse to a waiting horseboy. You were surprised that orcs had horseboys. “But you’ll be able to see your little girl right after.”

You nodded and allowed Rourke to lead you into the longhouse. There, a large orc sat in the chair in the center of the room at the end of the fire trench. He wore a leather kilt, furs on his shoulders, and various leather straps. He was talking to David, who walked right up to an orc woman with a baby on her hip and gave her a long, deep kiss. You blushed.

“Chief Akjan,” Rourke said. “She’s here.”

“Ah, good,” Chief Akjan said, standing up and towering over you. Where Rourke was tall and lean as a whip, Chief Akjan was broad and massively muscled. “Are you Margaret?”

You tried to answer, but your voice came out as a squeak. Clearing your throat, you replied, “Yes, I am.”

Chief Akjan nodded. “Good. I’m glad you’re here. Catherine will be happy to see you.”

“If you’ll pardon me, Sir,” You asked him shyly. “You’re the one married to Catherine, aren’t you?”

Chief Akjan shrugged. “Yes and no,” He replied. “We have a contract, but it can be revoked at any moment. She’s under no obligation to stay with me, nor am I beholden to her. We may part ways as friends whenever we wish.”

Your head rocked back in surprise; you’d never heard of an arrangement like that before.

“Is she well?”

“Better than she was at the Count’s estate, I’d wager,” He said, snorting, but upon seeing your anxious face, he answered more seriously. “She’s just fine, ma’am. We’ve been taking good care of her, I swear to you. Shall I fetch her for you?”

“Oh, please do,” You begged. “I’m so anxious to see her.”

“I’ll return shortly, then. Wait here.”

Chief Akjan turned and exited through a side door, and you rung your hands in anticipation, resisting the urge to bounce on your heels like a child.

“Excited?” Rourke asked, smiling.

“I just want to be sure she’s alright,” You said. “I can endure anything if my child is happy.”

Rourke’s smile widened in a fond way. “You’re a good mama.”

You blushed and looked away.

“Hopefully, you won’t have to endure anything from now on,” Rourke said, pointing. “Look alive.”

“Mother!”

You spun on your heel, elated. Catherine was standing there, looking healthier and brighter than you had ever seen her, wearing simple but well-made clothing, and every ounce of anxiety in your body evaporated.

“My baby!” You exclaimed, running forward to throw your arms around her. “Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry!”

She clutched you, quietly crying into your hair. Oh, you had missed her so.

“It’s alright, Mother. Are you alright?” She asked, pulling back to look at the fading bruises on your face. They were almost gone, but the presence of them surely made Catherine feel worried. You could see it on her face.

“I’m fine, honey, I’m just fine,” You insisted. “David and Rourke have been taking good care of me.”

She released you and looked at the men you had pointed to. “They have? What do you mean? How did you get here?”

“I sent them to collect her,” Akjan said, stepping forward. “I had a feeling there was more to the story that you and the Count hadn't told me, so I sent David to do some reconnaissance. It didn’t take long for the full story to reveal itself, so I sent Rourke to retrieve her. Problem solved.”

Catherine’s face showed worry, relief, and a little bit of disappointment. “Thank you, Akjan. I will be in your debt for as long as I live. Are you going to send us to Willowridge?”

He shook his head grimly, crossing his arms. “No. We know that the Count must be aware that your mother has disappeared by now and may have guessed the stronghold’s involvement. Our intelligence suggests he’s gathering soldiers to march on Willowshield to either get his horse deal or take you and your mother back. It’ll be safer for you and your mother to stay within the walls of the stronghold.”

Catherine’s hand went to her mouth in shock. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize the Count would cause this much trouble for you.”

Akjan shrugged, as though an invasion by a noble was no cause for concern.

“We’ve been attacked for far less. Don’t worry, it won’t be an issue.” He addressed you directly. “Welcome to Willowshield, madam.”

You bowed your head and nodded shyly. “Thank you very much, Chief Akjan.”

"Rourke, have the girls show Ms. Margaret to the bunkhouse."

Rourke nodded. “This way, Ms. Margaret. Miss Catherine will join you shortly. She and the Chief need to have a heart to heart.” He began guiding you toward the back door and outside.

“Is she in trouble?” You asked fretfully, allowing yourself to be led.

“Not at all! Just some husband and wife business, that’s all. Never you worry.”

You weren’t sure about that, but you had no choice but to believe him. Rourke had been positively enthusiastic since the moment you met him, upfront and honest and the picture of gentlemanly chivalry. His open and friendly nature had gotten past your inner defenses, and you’d go so far as to consider him something of a friend. David was good natured and friendly as well, but you’d never felt as close to him as you ended up feeling to Rourke. There was just something about Rourke that wouldn’t allow you to ignore him.

Rourke led you to a communal pavilion where there were several women doing fiber arts, weaving and spinning and knitting. One of them, a tall woman in trousers, stood up and came close.

“Ms. Margaret, this is Erin, Chief Akjan’s sister-in-law,” He said. “She’ll take care of you until Miss Catherine finishes up with the chief.”

“Ah, you’re Miss Catherine’s mama!” Erin said, holding out her hand. “So good to meet you! We’ve been waiting for you.”

You took her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Erin.”

“Oh, she’s just like Miss Catherine,” Erin said. “Shy and sweet. They’ll love you around here.”

“Hey!” Rourke said in a warning tone. Erin raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t respond. Clearing his throat, Rourke turned to you. “I have to give a debrief to the chief and report to my superior now. If you should ever need me for anything, my normal job is as a gate guard, so if you go down to the gate and ask for me, I’ll be at your disposal. Any time. Alright?”

You nodded. “Alright.”

He seemed reluctant to leave, but he started walking backwards.

“Until then.”

You smiled. “Until then.”

With a bright parting grin, he turned and trotted off, his long braid swinging back and forth.

“My goodness,” Erin said. “You and Miss Catherine certainly have a way about you, don’t you?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Erin shook her head and laughed. “It’s nothing. Let’s get you set up with a bunk. Things are about to get… busy soon.”

The way she phrased that made you feel a little tense, but she pulled you forward to meet the other women in the group, all of whom were welcoming and kind. Erin took you up to the bunkhouse, where you claimed two beds, one for you and one for Catherine. Erin informed you that, now that you had arrived and the Count had nothing to hold over her, Chief Akjan and Catherine no longer needed to keep up appearances and the marriage would be dissolved. Worried, you asked if that meant that she’d be kicked out, but Erin assured you that wasn’t the case.

“The chief wouldn’t do that,” Erin said. She leaned in and whispered, “Between you and me, Akjan likes her too much to send her away. My prediction is that they won’t be apart for long.”

“Oh,” You said, surprised.

Erin laughed. “Come on, she’d be done with the chief now, let’s collect her and catch up. I’m sure she’s dying to tell you everything.”

Allowing yourself to be dragged back to the pavilion, you saw Catherine standing there, looking around for you, and smiled. For the first time in your life, you felt like you were right where you were meant to be.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Orc #Older Couple Fic #Interspecies Romance #Older couple Romance

82 notes · View notes

burntheedges · 3 months

Text

Maintenance Request: Chapter 7

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ (minors DNI) | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 2.4k

a/n: happy Friday! I think it's about time for Joel to come back and fix that shelf, don't you? chapter tags/warnings: fluff, banter, drink mention, for the purposes of this chapter reader likes a certain coffee drink but feel free to imagine a different one, flirting

Chapter 7

Wednesday, October 9 Seventh week of the semester

A week had passed since your impromptu tour of the department with Sarah and Joel, and you hadn’t seen him in that time, but you had interacted over email a bit.

You emailed him your dissertation as promised, and he replied that Sarah was already reading it. You told him to reassure her that you would not be offended if she didn’t read the whole thing, but apparently she’d scoffed and just hunkered down. He sent you a picture of her curled into the corner of a very comfortable looking couch, eyes on her laptop screen, frowning in concentration. It made you smile and give up protesting. Ellie, who had spent most of Saturday at your apartment, had teased you endlessly when she caught you grinning at your phone during movie night.

Your morning wasn’t quite as bad as the one when you’d met Joel, but it hadn’t gone particularly smoothly, either. Rain had slowed down your commute and troubled your walk from the garage. You finally found yourself in front of your building, juggling your bag, your keys, an umbrella, and the coffee you’d splurged on (again) to try and turn the morning around.

Of course, when you tried to close the umbrella one-handed, your juggling skills failed. The coffee slipped from your grasp, spilling upward and outward in a fountain when the cup hit the ground by the steps. You stared at it for a moment before sighing, face turned up towards the rain. Of course.

You didn’t see him at the time, but Joel had apparently seen the whole mess. You learned this a couple of hours later, finally dry and snug in your office after your class, when there was a knock on the door. You called for whoever it was to come in, and to your surprise, Joel Miller sidled through your open door, large tool box in one hand and steaming cup of coffee in the other.

“Mornin’, darlin’. Thought I might swing by to work on that bookshelf,” he nodded towards your wall. “And replace the coffee I thought you might be missing.” He winked and gave you the half smile that had caught your eye the week before as he set the tool box down on the floor. For a moment you just stared at him, stunned, and then you felt your cheeks heat.

“You saw that?” You asked, embarrassed but already knowing the answer. He smiled, fully this time. “Yeah, I was across the quad, too far away to do much good. Thought maybe this was the next best thing.” He rubbed his free hand against the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish.

You took him in — his typical dark jeans, boots, and flannel shirt snug around his distractingly broad shoulders. Hair slightly damp from the rain, eyes warm and kind. You felt your face stretch into the type of smile you might use on a date. “Joel Miller, my knight in shining armor, hmm?” It was his turn to blush.

“I can’t promise armor, but I do have a tool belt.” He gestured down at it, and you laughed.

“I’ll take it. That’ll probably be of more help to my sad bookshelf, anyway.” He smiled and handed you the coffee. You took it gladly.

He nodded towards it and said, “wasn’t sure what you’d like, but Sarah promised me I couldn’t go wrong with one of the seasonal things. And I remember you said you liked lattes, when you were showing her the kitchen. Is that alright?” You looked down and took in the drink label, which proclaimed it to be a pumpkin spice latte. You couldn’t believe he’d asked Sarah what to get you.

You grinned. “It’s perfect, Joel. It’s the exact drink I spilled all over the steps an hour ago.” He laughed, and you watched his shoulders relax. Apparently he’d been worried. Cute.

“Well, I’ll take a look at your shelf. I might need to make a little noise — will that bother you?” He looked over at you as he dug in his toolbox for something.

You shrugged. “I’ll be honest, I’ll probably just talk to you instead of trying to work. Go right ahead.” He turned back to look for whatever he was trying to find, but you saw the corner of his mouth lift in a pleased smile.

“How’s Sarah getting on with my brick of a dissertation?” Your tone was self-deprecating, as every academic you’d ever met usually was when talking about that part of their career. You watched as he got out a level and some measuring tape.

“Well, darlin’, it can’t be as bad as you keep saying, not with the way she’s burning through it.”

You bit your lip around a smile. “Oh?”

He nodded. “Can I move some of these books? Where do you want ‘em?” You moved to help and after placing your books on the chairs in front of your desk and the empty area on your small table by the door, he returned to the shelf. “But yeah, she’s really enjoying it. Gave me a little lecture on space and metaphors and, uh, what was it… expansiveness, last night over dinner.” You groaned and put your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sure that was boring.” Out of the corner of your eye you noticed he’d stopped working and turned towards you, so you looked up.

He was considering you, head tilted, face unreadable. After a moment of working his jaw, seemingly worrying over his response, he asked, “why do you keep puttin’ yourself down like that? From what she told me, it sounded brilliant. I won’t pretend to have the right words, not about poetry or literature anyway. But I could tell it was smart and insightful and, well. Somethin’ special.” He kept eye contact with you as he praised your work in words that felt more genuine than anything else ever had, even at your dissertation defense. Even from your advisor.

“Oh! Well, thank you. I mean, I think…” you took a breath, flustered, and looked down at your hands on your desk. You tried to find the right words. “I think it’s just that everyone feels that way about their dissertation, at least a little bit. It’s something that represents the end of a huge amount of work and effort, but at the same time, it’s also your first step in an academic career, you know? Your writing is always improving, your skills are always growing.” You paused to think and fiddled with the edge of your stack of post-it notes. “So it’s easy to look back, I guess, and see all the flaws. But maybe I should do as I teach my students and see it as ways I’ve grown, instead.” You looked back up to meet his gaze. You suddenly felt exposed, like you’d just laid yourself open for him. But when you saw his face you realized you should have known by now that Joel would treat those parts of you gently.

He was smiling at you softly as he considered your words. He nodded. “I can see that. But flawed or not, from what I heard, it sounded like the work of someone who really knew their stuff.”

“Heard?” You can’t help but ask, worried he meant exactly what you were thinking.

“Yeah, the lecture included dramatic readings of her favorite parts,” he confirmed, grinning now. “You really seem to like long sentences, huh?” He winked again as he teased you and this time you took it without hiding your face, just grinned back at him.

“Guilty as charged,” you agreed. “It may have been noted during my defense. And by quite a few editors.”

Joel laughed. He turned back to the shelf to continue his work, and asked, “so, what else do you like to do, aside from reading and teaching and writing? Though you do those so well, not sure how you’d have time for much else.” You felt warmed by the compliment and studied the way the muscles in his arms and shoulders stretched and flexed as he repositioned your shelf on the wall.

“Well, I do read a lot. Fit that stereotype pretty neatly,” you confessed. “But I also like movies. And music. Especially live music.”

He smiled at you over his shoulder. “Ah, that’s one we have in common, then, darlin’. I’m a fan of live music myself.” Suddenly you felt a little nervous, getting an inkling of where this might be going. Your heart started racing in anticipation.

“Oh? Any favorites?” You could hear your nerves in your voice, but you hoped he couldn’t. You watched as he reached up high on the wall and the hem of his flannel rose to the top edge of his jeans.

“I’m easy,” he replied absently. “But there’re a few places around here that have good live music nights.” You hummed, thoroughly distracted by the hint of skin that was exposed along his waistband. He started to say something else, and you were waiting eagerly to hear what it might be, when there was another knock on your office door.

You called for whoever it might be to come in, and to your great displeasure, Trevor stuck his head around your door. He didn’t bother to greet you. “I heard you in here and wanted to ask you about the coffee next week.” He said, referring to the biweekly coffee chat the grad students held, which you had been in charge of last year but weren’t this year.

“I’m not in charge of that this year,” you reminded him mildly. “You need to talk to Renee.”

His surprise at your response was clearly fake, but he nodded. “Right, must have forgotten. Ah well. What do we have here?” This question was asked with much greater interest, and you narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “I wasn’t aware of any construction going on today.”

“It’s not construction, Trevor, it’s a maintenance request. This is Joel.” You gestured towards the man, who was working quietly.

“Oh, we’ve met.” Joel interjected mildly. “There was that computer mishap last April.”

Trevor actually flushed, and stood up ramrod straight. “Yes, um. Well. I’ll go see Renee.” He scuttled off at a speed you’d assumed he was incapable of, until now. You turned to Joel and found him looking at you. “What was that about?” You got up and stepped towards the door to make sure he was really gone, but Trevor wasn’t in the hallway or anywhere in sight.

“Man’s a pest,” Joel grumbled. “Put in a maintenance request in the spring because his computer monitor wasn’t tilted how he wanted it. Wasted our time calling us back and forth because he refused to try to fix it himself. By the end I was wonderin’ if he just kept movin’ it so he could call us back to change it again. Or if he just didn’t know what he wanted. And he was rude every time.” You scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Good to know he’s not just shitty to us, then, I guess.” You sighed. “I get the feeling he didn’t actually forget he needed to talk to Renee. No idea why he might have wanted to snoop in here, though.” Joel shrugged, and turned back to you. Gesturing to your wall, he said, “well, darlin’, your shelf is all done. Let me help you put these back.” He started reaching for your books, and to your amusement seemed to remember exactly what order they’d been in before.

“Already? Joel, that’s amazing.”

He shook his head, hiding a smile. “Was a pretty small job, you know. Wasn’t going to take long.” Between the two of you your shelf was put back to rights in just a couple of minutes. You stood back to take it in, and noticed that it really did look nicer, with level shelves.

You turned to tell Joel that, and to thank him, and found that once again he was already looking at you. You felt heat rise in your cheeks at the look in his eyes. It was warm. And intent. “Thank you, Joel. This really is amazing.” You stepped a bit closer to him and nudged him with your shoulder. “Pretty impressive work, you know.”

He looked pleased, but tried to hide it by ducking his head and twisting his mouth around a smile. “Wasn’t a problem, darlin’. I wanted to get it done before all of your books and things fell off the wall, anyway.” For a moment you both just stood there and smiled at each other, but then Joel cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. You noticed he was clenching and releasing one of his hands. “Don’t suppose you’re free for lunch later?” He sounded hopeful but uncertain.

“Oh! Sorry, I’m meeting my best friend.” You suddenly wanted to call Beth and cancel but knew you couldn’t. “Another day?”

He nodded, looking a little disappointed, but replied, “I’ll hold you to it.”

“Please do.” You tried to catch his eye again but he was already turning away. Between one moment and the next he was gone, out the door and down the hall.

…

At lunch, Beth made you talk her through the whole encounter. Twice. It took you all the way through the line to order and well into your lunch for her to be satisfied with your account.

“Ok look, like I said, he wants you. And we know you want him. You should ask him out next time.” Beth punctuated her verdict by brandishing her fork in your face. You rolled your eyes.

“It feels like we’ve only been on the same page for like, a minute. I didn’t realize he was flirting until he appeared at my door to hang my picture.” You shook your head, unsure.

Beth huffed. “I told you he was. You were too busy being annoyed.” You sighed, but you knew she was right.

“I just…” You trailed off and took a bite of your lunch to give yourself a minute to think. “I’m embarrassed. I yelled at him a lot.”

“Well, clearly he didn’t mind.” Beth smirked. “I bet he thinks it’s hot.” You threw your napkin at her. “If you don’t ask him out the next time you see him I’m going to call his office and do it for you.”

The worst part was, you knew she meant it.

...

a/n: see you next Friday! maybe they'll finally have lunch? prev | next

tag list: @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @katareyoudrilling @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123 @joelalorian

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #x reader #tlou fic #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM

147 notes · View notes

rip-quizilla · 9 months

Text

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: For some reason, when Eddie's around you, he doesn't feel like a piece of shit- he's really starting to like that about you. Your feelings for Eddie are growing past 'friendship' feelings, but you sure as hell aren't telling Eddie that. Robin is perceptive as hell.

Word Count: 4.9k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by When Harry Met Sally (1989), Slow Burn, Romantic Fluff, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no one dies, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut

Part 1 | Part 2

Part 3

Spring, 1983

“How on earth are you failing shop?”

Your voice landed in the thick quiet of Eddie’s van halfway between a question and a laugh, and Eddie could feel a blush creeping up his neck as he tried to laugh it off.

“Eh, I failed a project way back where I was supposed to make this birdhouse or something and I never turned it in…”

He didn’t miss the concern in your voice when you replied, “And you never thought to just ask for an extension? Did you at least start it?”

Eddie’s silence spoke volumes.

“Eddie!” you shoved him lightly on the shoulder, and he winced. Not from pain, you’d barely shoved at all- he winced out of embarrassment.

You were smart. He didn’t need to look at your report card to know someone like you had never failed a class as simple as shop before. By all means, it should have been an easy A; Mr. McCarthy didn’t grade based on skill, his projects were easy to ace as long as you followed the rubric. The hard part was that Eddie was a serial procrastinator, especially when it came to projects. He’d kept telling himself that he would start the project later, start it tomorrow, start it this weekend, etc. Now here he was, a month after it was due, and a month before the school year ended- still no project, and no amount of minor assignments would help him to regain a passing grade in that class.

“It’s no big deal, they can’t make me repeat the year just because I failed an elective class. I’ll just take another elective credit next year instead of a study hall-”

“Eddie!”

The tone of your voice surprised him, firm and all-business, almost like a reprimand. He glanced at you sheepishly. “What?”

He wasn’t sure why he’d expected you to be angry with him. Perhaps Eddie had grown so used to getting lectured by those that mattered to him that the idea of you doing the same wasn’t that much of a stretch. But when Eddie saw your expression, it wasn’t one of anger, but confusion.

“Do you hear yourself?” You asked. Your voice was firm, leaving no room for any argument. “It’s like you’ve already given up and you still have a whole month before junior year ends.”

Eddie shook his head. “The project was due in March, there’s no way McCarthy would let me turn it in this late-”

“Have you asked?”

Another silence, equally telling as the last.

You turned your attention to the street ahead, arms crossed over your chest and a satisfied look on your face. “Well, you’re going to ask him Monday if he’d accept your birdhouse late.”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Oh that’s what I’m gonna do, huh?”

You nodded, smiling smugly. “Mm-hm!”

“And then I’m going to build a birdhouse?”

“You are, and I’m going to help you.”

That, Eddie hadn’t expected. “You’re gonna… what?”

You smiled at him, pulling your backpack up into your lap and hugging it to your middle. Eddie remembered you doing that last week too; he wondered if that was something you did subconsciously, always needing something to hug against yourself to feel comfort in some way. “I’m going to help you. My dad has some tools and scrap wood in the shed out behind our house, so we can go there if you want. Either way, I am not letting you fail shop class unless you did every possible thing you could have to pass.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. His friends were always happy to help him with homework, even let him copy off of them from time to time- but this? He felt a bit overwhelmed at your eagerness, borderline pushiness, to help him.

“You really don’t need to go through the trouble-”

You gave him a stern look that sent his eyes straight back to the road ahead. “Munson, if you try to get out of building a damn birdhouse I swear I’m changing the radio station to whatever popular girly crap is playing right now.”

Eddie shut his mouth, button eyes blown wide. “Understood, yes ma’am.”

He pretended that the thumping of his overzealous heart was just the heavy bass from the radio.

***

To Eddie’s surprise- and your satisfaction- Mr. McCarthy agreed to grant Eddie an extension. If he was able to present a finished birdhouse by the end of the school year, Eddie could receive credit for it with an automatic ten point deduction for being tardy. You thought ten points was generous of him, and while Eddie secretly agreed, he wasn’t about to criticize the hand that fed him.

So, per your request (which Eddie could tell was non-negotiable, so not much of a request, really) Eddie stayed with you after school while you tutored some freshman in preparation for their English Lit final and drove you back to your house when you were done. This time, however, he went inside with you to begin construction on the birdhouse that would (hopefully) save his grade.

Your dad had been more than happy to help Eddie with figuring out how big to cut each of the wood pieces, teaching him to measure twice, cut once, blah blah blah. All of that adorable fatherly stuff. It was very cute for you to watch- your dad, who had initially been less smiley, a bit more taciturn than usual because his daughter was bringing a boy by the house to work on a project and he’d been intent on snuffing out any ill-intentions towards you, instantly falling back into his everyday, effortlessly smiley exterior the moment Eddie told him that his woodworking hobby was “actually really cool”.

Something about Eddie seemed to do that to people- he melted away the person you projected, leaving behind the person you were at your core. You could see it so clearly on your dad’s face as the two of them sketched out lines on a piece of scrap wood. Eddie marked one piece with a little cartoonish-looking skull, and when your dad saw it he asked Eddie if he likes to draw- and then the conversation simply flowed from there easily. You couldn’t wipe the sappy smile from your face.

Your dad stayed to advise until he could tell that Eddie had a good grasp on how to use the tools at his disposal, and jokingly made sure Eddie knew you were the one in charge whenever the two of you were left to your own devices. Eddie had responded with a mockingly serious salute, which only made your dad smile wider.

“He likes you.” you’d said once you were sure your dad was out of earshot.

Eddie huffed out an embarrassed chuckle, eyes staying focused on his work while the corner of his mouth quirked up in a sardonic smile. “Yeah, well, he probably just hasn’t heard much about me then.”

You studied him, half amused and half pained that he was once again refusing to take a compliment of his character. Turning your attention to the tiny wooden dowel you intended to turn into a perch for the birdhouse, you continued. “Oh he’s heard about you. Just, everything he’s heard, he heard from me. So no, no bad things.”

That got Eddie’s attention. “Really?” he asked incredulously, looking at you with one eyebrow raised. “No bad things? Not a single one?”

“Nope, no bad things. He’s heard annoying things, though. Infuriating things. I told him to warn the HOA about you.”

“Oh, did you now?”

“Scouts’ honor, we have a certain standard to uphold around here, you know.”

Twin smiles played on your lips, evidence for the joy it brought both of you to be around each other. You both worked wordlessly, letting the sounds of sandpaper and sharp tools on wood fill the pleasantly warm air in the shed.

“What about you?”

His vague question earned a glance from your direction. “What about me?” you asked.

“Well, if I’m so infuriating and annoying, why do you care so much about whether or not I pass this class?” Eddie’s sentence trailed off into a breathy, nearly imperceptible tremor that told you he cared about your answer.

“You might be infuriating and annoying,” you said, matter-of-fact, “but you’re smart. Way too smart to fail shop because of something as stupid as a missing grade.”

Eddie was quick to brush off your compliment. “You know some might say that missing a due date is something only a stupid person would do,” he looked up at you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “so I would argue that that alone makes me-”

“Eddie, stop.”

His lips clamped shut.

You placed the wooden pieces in your hands down on the floor before walking up to him and stopping about a foot from where he sat. Your eyebrows were drawn together menacingly, your arms were crossed over your chest, and your tone reminded Eddie of what it must be like to be in trouble with Mom.

“Look Munson,” you began sharply, “You are a very intelligent person. I am not saying that to flatter you because I couldn’t care less about giving you empty compliments or not. I’m just stating a fact: you are smart.”

His gaze was trained on the floor, unsure what to do with himself. Brown eyes flicked up to yours through his dark chocolate curls and back down again.

“And I don’t know who made you think you’re so much of a lost cause that you give up before asking for help, but I’ve never been one to watch smart people let themselves down and be okay with it.” You held out your hand palm facing upwards between your chests. “So hand me the wood glue so I can give the lucky birds who get to live in this fancy joint a little perch to stand on.”

He did what you asked, quiet and hiding behind the curtain of his mane. It wasn’t until you were back in your seat that he finally spoke up.

“You know-”

You looked up at him, a soft smile teasing the corner of your lips, and you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself as you processed the fondness that shone in his eyes.

“-you’re a little scary when you’re angry.”

You snorted. “Good. Maybe I can scare you into fulfilling your potential.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what that potential was, exactly. His life was doomed from the start to complete its natural cycle within the same hundred square miles, so he figured his potential was to… work at the power plant with Wayne? Be a bartender at The Hideout? Drink himself to death when his life got too depressing to deal with anymore?

Okay, maybe that last one was a little too dark. But realistically, he knew that would probably cross his mind after enough time spent in this hell-hole of a town.

Now there was a smart girl telling him he was capable of more than that, and his first instinct was to wonder if Wayne had put you up to giving him a pep talk or something… but that was way too sneaky for Wayne, so there was no way he’d asked you, which meant that you, a smart girl, truly believed that he- Eddie Munson- was a smart guy.

Huh.

Well how about that.

***

True to his word, Mr. McCarthy accepted Eddie’s birdhouse when he brought it to class that Friday. He chuckled when he saw the little horned devil symbol painted in the corner on the back. He peered questioningly at Eddie when he caught sight of the pentagram that had been drawn on the floor of the inside, to which Eddie had replied, “In case they want to perform any ritualistic sacrifices in there.”

When he’d handed Eddie his graded rubric, there were minimal notes written in red, but when Eddie looked at the little blank labeled ‘total’, nothing else mattered.

90/100

Which meant that without the ten point deduction, Eddie would have made a 100%. His work- sans tardiness- was worth a 100%. Eddie was baffled, stunned- he couldn’t remember the last time his work had been deemed worthy of a ‘100’ circled in red pen at the top of his paper since elementary school.

“I got a 90%!”

He was practically giddy when he told you. Shop was his last class of the day, after which he had run straight to your locker to show you the rubric. You were excited for him, of course, but you hadn’t been surprised in the slightest.

“And that brings your average in the class up to…?” You asked with a knowing smile.

Eddie clutched the precious page to his chest, swooning as he threw his back against the locker beside yours. “72.” He sighed, content and over the moon. “You’re a miracle worker, you know that? You took this sad, pathetic, stupid little boy-” He splayed a dramatic hand over his heart. “-and you wanna know what you did?”

You smiled wryly, closing your locker door. “Uh huh?”

His face contorted in the most joyful way possible- a smile showing every tooth, crinkling the corners of his eyes, brow scrunching from the passion with which he gripped that flimsy piece of paper and shook it in your face.

“You got him a fucking A, you genius!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as the two of you walked through the halls to the theater department for Hellfire. “You did all the work! You got yourself that A.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Eddie wagged his pointer finger back and forth. “No, that’s not what I said, I said it was a fucking A.”

You looked at him, confusion evident in your eyes. “Yes, that’s what I said, you got yourself that A! I barely did a thing.”

He was quiet, grinning ear to ear as he narrowed his eyes on you. “Oh… oh you sweet, sweet thing…”

Whoa now, that gave you butterflies.

You casually turned your eyes in the opposite direction of where Eddie walked by your side, hoping he couldn’t sense your reaction. “What?”

Eddie chuckled, positioning himself directly in your line of sight. “Don’t hide from me, come on-” You looked up begrudgingly, taking in his amused expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say fuck.”

“What? That’s ridiculous, I’ve said it.”

“Not in front of me!”

“Yeah, okay, I don’t say it often.” you shrugged, eyes darting literally anywhere but his face- again. “So what? There are so many other better words I could use-”

“But can you say it?”

At that, your eyes met his, and you made sure to sprinkle a little venom into that eye contact. “Of course I can say it, I’m just choosing not to.”

Eddie was undeterred. “Then choose to say it just this once, I want to know what the word ‘fuck’ sounds like in your sweet little innocent voice.” His puppy dog eyes glistened as he pouted.

You glared, smacking your hand against a door that threatened to close before you could pass through it, and angrily shoving it aside. “I am not innocent or little, thank you very much.”

“Awwww, come on, Ace, just one little f-bomb?”

“No.”

“Not even for me?”

“No!”

“Uuugghhhh,” Eddie sighed, throwing up his hands exasperatedly as the two of you approached the twin set of doors that led to the auditorium. “Fine.” He hopped ahead of you, opening one of the doors for you. “After you.”

You should have seen it coming, but you still yelped when Eddie jabbed his fingers into a tickle spot in the curve of your waist as you walked past him.

“FUCK! Eddie!” you practically squealed.

You shook your head in disbelief as he skipped down the narrow aisle of seats toward the stage, throwing a fist victoriously up in the air.

“Hahaaa, there it is!” He cackled.

You may have acted annoyed with him, but nothing could deny the brightness in your smile seeing him overtaken with so much joy. That joy translated so easily into his storytelling during D&D that when you had finished your work on the set for the play- which was only two weeks away now- you didn’t even pretend to be busy with anything else this time. You grabbed a wooden stool from backstage, tugged it close enough to the table to see the story playing out before you, and simply watched Eddie do one of the things in his life that truly made him come alive.

What you didn’t realize was that there was now another thing that seemed to bring out the best parts of him the same way that D&D did, the same way that music did, the same way that curling up and rereading The Hobbit did. And when Eddie heard the drag of your wooden stool across the black surface of the floor, glanced over his shoulder and saw your eager, shining eyes glowing brightly at him, drinking in every word that left his lips- that was when he realized it.

He realized that you were quickly becoming one of the things that made him love waking up in the morning.

***

Eddie had, admittedly, never been to a play before. He’d been in a play, but that was back in the fifth grade, and it was more of a Christmas pageant than an actual play. He had played one of the three wise men, and all he could remember from it was his teacher chewing him out for his improvised line- “Myrrh-y Christmas, Jesus”- when he’d placed his prop-gift into baby Jesus’ manger. That had been the prompt end of his acting career.

Now, as he tried his best to look nonchalant with his hands in his pockets, he couldn’t help but feel particularly out of place while his eyes frantically searched for a place to sit in the auditorium that would give him the perfect balance of empty seats and proximity to people he knew wouldn’t recognize him. The last thing he needed was another reason for his usual bullies to mess with him.

“Munson! Hey, Eddie! Over here!”

Eddie’s attention flicked over to a seat toward the back, occupied by none other than Robin Buckley, who was absolutely ruining his efforts to act cool. He rushed to where she sat while trying his best to wordlessly communicate SHUT. UP. with only his eyes. Oblivious to Eddie’s plea, Robin patted the empty seat beside her.

“I didn’t know you would be here!” her voice was loud- that was something he already knew- but it still rang uncomfortably in his ears.

“I’m right here, Buckley, no need to yell.” Eddie hissed, crouching in his seat as if he could make himself smaller just by trying. “Yeah, well I didn’t exactly have other plans, and I knew this was going on and…yeah.”

Robin watched Eddie stumble through his poor attempt at nonchalance, a knowing grin taking up residence on her mouth. When he clumsily arrived at the end of his sentence, she simply kept smiling at him, which unnerved him greatly. He averted his eyes, leaning back in his chair and throwing an arm over the rest an elbow atop its back. “What?” he scoffed, once again trying to appear indifferent- it didn’t work well, at which Robin snorted.

She shook her head, chuckling silently. “She’s going to be so happy you showed up.”

Well if that didn’t make his chest feel as though it was about to inflate and fly away, nothing did.

Regardless, Eddie still acted cool- or tried to, at least. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” but the red crawling up his neck and the sappy grin that he just couldn’t fend off gave him away. Robin groaned, pretending to be fed up even though she actually thought the way he reacted when you were simply mentioned was the cutest thing she’d ever seen in her life. Even though she knew he didn’t need reminding, she still said your name just to see if his blush would grow even deeper when he heard it. She was rewarded.

Eddie nodded in recognition, sticking to his bit. “Oh yeah, I forgot she was helping out with this thing. That’s uh… that’s cool-”

“Oh shove it, Munson, quit playing the indifferent cool guy.” she shoved a finger in his face. “You like her.”

He scoffed- again- and rolled his eyes a little too hard. “Lay off it, Buckley, we’re just friends.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, obviously not buying it. “Really? That’s it?”

Eddie remained neutral in his tone, shrugging as if the whole situation were just that cut-and-dry. “Yup. That’s it.”

She looked at him for a long time- a long time, with a gaze so intense it made Eddie a bit uncomfortable. It felt like letting go of a breath he’d been holding when Eddie finally heard Robin’s “If you say so.”

Eddie nodded. “I do say so.”

Judging by Robin’s facial expression, she still didn’t buy it, but she seemed willing to drop the topic. “Okay then.”

“Okay.” Eddie mumbled, just in time for the lights on the stage to go down.

It only took about ten minutes of the play to go by for Eddie to start wondering if seeing you at the end of the production was going to be worth sitting here for an hour and a half. However, when the curtain had finally closed and he saw the look on your face upon seeing him standing there with Robin at the end of the arts hallway- that long hour and a half melted away.

You were dressed all in black just like a few other crew members that Eddie saw scuttling about, carrying certain props and costume pieces. Pulling away from a hug that you’d bestowed upon Robin immediately after seeing her, your eyes focused on him and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Eddie Munson, did you actually sit through an entire theater production of your own free will?” you asked through a toothy smile.

Hands in his pockets, Eddie shrugged and hid his smirk behind long stray curls. “Yeah, maybe.”

He was quiet. You were quiet. You were both just… smiling at each other. Like idiots. Robin shook her head in disbelief.

“You’re both idiots.” she mumbled, dumbfounded.

You blinked. “What?”

“I said ‘Let’s go get burgers!’ I’m starving.” Robin began walking with you down the hall toward the exit. “Coming, Munson?”

You looked at him, wide-eyed. He struggled to read your expression- were you expecting Buckley to invite him? Were you hoping he would say yes? Say no? Eddie stuttered, clearing his throat.

“I mean, if you want me to-”

You nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah! I mean, if you want to-”

“I don’t want to impose-”

“Don’t feel like you have to-”

“Oh my god!” Robin stomped over to Eddie, grabbing him by his upper arm and dragging you in the same spot with her upper hand. “You both want burgers! Let’s go get burgers!” Eddie had to suppress a chuckle upon hearing Robin’s muttered ‘God, you two are fucking children’ under her breath. Your gazes connected behind Robin’s head, both of your faces sporting a small, crinkled grin- shy and sharing.

Thank god for Robin.

Eddie was happy to throw Robin’s bike in the back of his van; happy to drive the two of you to the diner downtown in lieu of meeting you there. Happy- and relieved- to discover that even though he had only ever spent time with you alone or with his friends, he was able to fall into comfortable conversation with you and your friend the same way that you had nestled your way into his friends’ routine so easily. It had been ages since one of the Hellfire members had glanced your way during a session, nervous to throw themselves into the game while an outsider was in the room waiting to judge them. They learned- Eddie learned- pretty quickly that you would never judge them. Pretty soon, you weren’t an outsider- you were just a part of their Friday plans.

Eddie’s mind began to wonder, as he drove the two of you down the main road, now that the play was over, and you had no reason to keep showing up to Hellfire, what excuse would Eddie have to see you? Summer was fast approaching, so you wouldn’t be seeing each other at school each day either. Suddenly, Eddie wasn’t just wondering, he was worrying. Without an excuse to see you, would this burgeoning little friendship just…fall? Just stop?

“Hey, Eddie? You awake over there?” you snapped your fingers by Eddie’s ear, and he flinched away slightly as a nervous laugh bubbled up his throat.

“Sorry,” Eddie said, his voice light. “Just got lost in thought I guess.”

If the two of you were alone, you would have asked him what he was thinking about. However, Robin was here- it was a strange sort of limbo you felt you were in, your childhood best friend and your newly-discovered… friend. Crush. Maybe-crush? The way you felt about Eddie was becoming increasingly difficult for you to pinpoint. You knew you loved being around him. You knew that your heart had done a complete backflip when you’d seen him waiting with Robin after the play. Eddie Munson did not attend school functions. When you’d seen him at the winter formal years ago, you hadn’t even seen him inside- as far as you’d known, he hadn’t gone with a date… maybe he’d gone with friends? Or he was someone’s ride? Either way, the fact that he would go to a play simply because you were involved in it was certainly enough to give you heart palpitations.

When the three of you arrived at the diner, the energy was a little odd between the three of you. Robin watched as you and Eddie had gone from comfortably chatty to eerily quiet. It seemed that you both were caught up in your own spiraling thoughts, and the awkwardness that it was causing was going to make Robin scream if it didn’t stop soon.

“So Eddie,” Robin said as you all sat down in one of the plasticky blue booths in the diner, “what are your summer plans?”

It seemed to take a second for Eddie to register what Robin was asking; he tilted his head to the side, taking a second to consider. “Haven’t thought about it…honestly, I figured I might be busy with summer school or something if I wasn’t passing all my classes-”

“-Which, you are.” you interrupted, a soft, proud smile on your lips.

Eddie laughed, and Robin couldn’t help but notice that his biggest smiles always happened when he was looking at you.

“Yeah, thanks to you.” Eddie replied, quickly turning to the waitress as she walked up to your table, closing the window of time you had to deny the credit he was hell-bent on giving you. The three of you each ordered a burger and a milkshake before Robin took it upon herself to carry on the conversation.

“Think you’ll get a summer job?” she asked Eddie with a nefarious grin. “You could work at Scoops with us, you get a pretty sweet outfit out of the gig.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, “Hah! I’ll pass on the shorts, thanks.”

You cursed your brain for conjuring up the image of Eddie in shorts, then proceeded to burn that image in your brain.

“You bring up a good point, though,” he mused, “Wayne and I could use the money. I pick up odd jobs around the neighborhood, but most of the old farts around the park just throw me whatever they find between their couch cushions.”

The waitress set your shake in front of you, which you eagerly grabbed and took a sip. “I can keep an eye out for places that are hiring, if you want.” You smiled at Eddie, bright red straw lightly resting against your lips.

“Yeah?” he asked hopefully, “Just don’t go asking at any places where I’ll have to wear some stupid outfit.”

“Hey!” you narrowed your eyes on him, a teasing glint in your gaze. “I happen to think I look cute in that stupid outfit.”

Eddie had no doubt that you did, but he wasn’t about to tell you that. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Smee.”

Robin snorted, shaking her head at the two of you. She was astounded at your combined talents for ignoring the undeniable chemistry that the two of you had whenever you shared each others’ spaces. She saw it all- the way he seemed so completely unaffected by everything except for you. The way that whenever he was around, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from him. The way that you both refused to admit that your friendship had an expiration date- you both wanted to be more than friends, and that much was clear as day to Robin. It was only a matter of time before one of you cracked. A ticking time bomb.

Robin resolved to confront you about it at some point. Not tonight; tonight, she was content to watch the two of you idiots tripping over yourselves while you pretended not to be absolutely besotted with each other- it was free entertainment. But she’d ask you about it soon.

For now, she settled for laughing at the way you pretended to be mad at Eddie as he spent the whole meal trying to sneak fries from your plate.

Part 4

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #impossible to hate you #rip-quizilla #when harry met sally

162 notes · View notes

intplayboy · 1 year

Text

TOUCH - MAFIA! BTS OT7 X F! READER [ THREE ]

if you want to be part of the tag list, complete the form.

summary: jin, with the assistance of 007 (you), performs a quick operation on the maknae as a result of his injury. jungkook tries to thank you, while jin spends some time to learn more about you better. yoongi gets frustrated with his members and takes it out on you.

pairings: mafia bts ot7 x experimented human female reader

warnings: implied drugging, mentions torture (no gore tho), medical extraction, gunshot wound, blood, violence, swearing. more fluff in this chapter! but also unfortunately yoongi being more of an asshole a little bit.

word count: 12,722 *prewritten & new chap but written longer, as an apology for the lateness :')*

also sorry i didn't post on the last two fridays, i had family from the philippines and then new year plans. anyways, better later than never, am i right? heheh... enjoy <3

ps. the second half of this isn't proofread 😭

masterpost | two | four

tag list: @juju-227592, @drunkzseok, @yourgirlcin, @babybunli, @xanny91, @bibetsa, @borahae-reads, @lalavione1309, @luvsbngtn, @tetehearts, @singukieee, @serendididy, @quixoticbittersweet, @iriaachan, @jksisbunntboy, @missseoulite, @xjiminsthighsx, @just-vaaalll, @chim-possible, @passionandsuga, @deadrose287, @kalala22, @bangtanxberm, @scuzmunkie, @sunoosult, @germ2001, @lovelgirl22, @thvkives, @kourtney-fairy-blog, @linlinlily, @getinthetardissammy-sh, @prakriti-j, @paramedicnerd004, @cuteipat, @iamkookiesforyou, @queen-in-the-shadows, @shadowyjellyfishfest, @fakedanger, @reallysparklychaos, @ghostlyworld, @whipwhoops, @knjsbae, @peebsvic, @bfxnmcgjc, @ghostkat23, @mpc1324, @yoongissmalltoe, @prettyling, @luna-astro, @hannahdinse8, @twentyninetyseven, @cryingpages, @ut-dixisti (the tags that are strikethrough could not be tagged)

copyright © 2022 by kumiko. all rights reserved. my works or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without express written permission from me except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The maknae lies on his bed, as the others surround him with worried expressions. Their butler and Jin tend to him. "How's he hyung?"

"He didn't lose too much blood since the bullet is lodged in him. But we'll have to extract it or else it'll become infected and he won't heal properly." Jin explained.

The eldest brother casts a glance at his younger brother's pale face. "Jungkook, the bullet is stuck; we'll have to get it out. And it will hurt... a lot."

He blinks open his eyes, faintly nodding. "O-okay."

Hoseok enters the room with a metal cart and approaches Jin and Sun-woo from behind. "I brought the tools."

"Thanks."

Then a tiny figure emerged from the doorway. "I heard, hurt bad."

All eight pairs of eyes turned to gaze at you, but you avoided eye contact. "I want to help him."

"C-can I help him?" You asked softly.

Jin redirects his attention to Jungkook, who meets his stare and nods. "L-let her."

"Okay, come here. " Jin directs you, prompting you to move your feet toward the three men. "Get on the bed on the opposite side of him."

You climb onto the bed and sit next to the injured boy. You chew on your lip as you look at him, the sense of his injury being much stronger to you.

Jin then pressed the silvery blade against Jungkook's wound and gently slid it across, while you wrap your hands around Jungkook, and your eyes and the veins on your hands begin to illuminate purple.

When Sun-woo turns around to deliver Jin the next tool, his attention is drawn to you and your glowing appearance, causing him to yelp and drop the tool in surprise. "Oh goodness! That startled me."

"Yeah, that'll be with us for god knows how long, so get used to it." Yoongi scowls and Sun-woo nods slowly.

As Jin drags the blade against Jungkook, the younger groans and stiffens in pain, but thanks to your abilities, Jungkook gradually relaxes and falls quiet.

Jin continues to cut him open until eventually lifting the blade, causing you to let out a short, relieved gasp.

Jin sneaks a glimpse at you before checking on his injured dongsaeng. "How do you feel Kookie?"

"I-I'm fine. It doesn't hurt anymore, I don't feel anything. You can continue." He affirms.

"Okay, well, the bleeding is stable, and I will now extract the bullet, alright?" Jin makes an announcement, to which Jungkook nods.

Jin extended his other free hand behind him, signaling their butler to give out the next tool, a forceps. He quickly adjusted the metal tool in his hand and hovered it over the bullet wound once he could feel it in his hand.

He looks into the wound again, properly locating the bullet before inserting the tool into the open wound. He fishes for the bullet steadily but effectively, and once he clamps on to it, he expertly wiggles it upwards to remove it.

The soft audible whimpers coming from your petite form, however, do not go unnoticed by Jin and Jungkook, undoubtedly because they are the closest to you.

Still, Jin focused on extracting the bullet diligently, and once it emerges from the open wound, he instantly places it in the surgical metal basin beside him.

"All done." He begins removing his bloody gloves. "You can heal him now."

You flash Jin a brief glance before gently placing both of your hands above the wound. And, once again, not only do the veins on your hands glow but so do the veins around Jungkook's wound.

Meanwhile, Sun-woo marvels as you miraculously heal his youngest boss. "Amazing..."

You quickly retracted your hands while looking at Jungkook after the wound healed. "A-are you okay?"

The corners of the maknae's lips curved up slightly, keeping his gaze fixed on you. "Yes, thanks."

For what seemed like hours in their eyes, a sudden loud sigh interrupts their trance. "How come you didn't say anything, Jungkook?"

The addressed man swiveled his head, his eyes settled on his concerned leader. "I didn't want to worry you guys, and I figured I could treat it myself."

"If only the bullet wasn't stuck in there." He mutters quietly, but the oldest manages to hear him.

"You really think you could properly treat that wound yourself, are you crazy?" Jin exclaimed.

He puts his hands up defensively. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry, I will make sure to tell you guys next time. Happy?"

While the boys cleaned up, you returned to your room as told and awaited further instructions.

Your head sprang up when you heard a knock at the door a little while later. You watch as a figure enters the room; it was the same broad-shouldered man who had tended to their youngest member and politely conversed with you the day before.

As he approaches you, he gives a faint smile. "Hi, I just wanted to come in here and thank you for helping Jungkook."

"Y-you welcome." You answer with your small voice.

He chuckles softly when the memory of your whimpering came to him. "By the way, I meant to ask you, why were you whimpering earlier?"

You give him a quizzical look, urging Jin to continue with his explanation. "You were making these sounds with your mouth while taking Jungkook's pain and healing him. It sounded like whimpering."

You pause for a few seconds. "Oh, y-your pain—" As you try to explain, you motion to him and then to yourself. "My pain."

The lens spectacle-wearing man scrunches his brows. "Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"I thought you already feel when someone is—" A voice disrupted him before he could complete his sentence. "Hyung! Are you making dinner tonight?"

Jin lets out an exasperated groan. "Of course!"

He sighed heavily, knowing he'd have to put that subject of discussion on hold for the time being. He then returns his attention to you."I know you've been cooped up in this boring room for hours, so would you like to join me in making dinner for everyone?"

"Y-you asking me?"

He nods. "Yeah, it'll be fun... I think?"

"Fun? What's fun?" You sway your head.

He rubs the back of his head, he did not expect that. "It's like— something you find enjoyable, yes. Something you'll like doing."

"Do you understand?"

"Enjoyable... Oh! Enjoyable, yes." You grin with your lips, exposing your adorable bread cheeks and deep dimples akin to Namjoon's.

That's cute. Wait what? What are you saying Jin? "Well, then, shall we go down?"

He offers his hand to you, which you immediately wrap your own around. He takes your hand in his and gently tugs you out of your bedroom.

When the two of you eventually made it into the kitchen, Jin automatically headed to where the apron with the white and blue stripes hung on a cabinet door. You, on the other hand, stayed still as the expert hacker moved about the kitchen retrieving all of the ingredients.

He didn't see you still awkwardly standing in the center of the kitchen until all the veggies and spices were spread out on the large island table. "O-oh sorry, I didn't realize..."

"I plan to make japchae and kimchi quesadillas. You can help by pouring all these contents for the quesadillas into the bowl like this." He demonstrates with empty dishes, making sure you pay attention. "Then mix it with the ground beef— Does this look easy enough?"

You hum and position yourself in front of the contents you were presented with. Jin attentively monitors you for a moment, ensuring you perform your job correctly. When he's satisfied, he turns around and starts chopping the veggies for the japchae.

He skillfully cuts and slices all of the peppers, mushrooms, spinach, and carrot. The same small voice rang out just as he was about to put a pot on the burner. "I-I finished."

He turns his head, and he finds the sight amusing. Splattered stains on his dongsaeng's sweatshirt and your hands drenched in the mixed spices and oil from the sauce that drips down your arms, staining the cuffs of her sleeves.

He chuckles lightly at your disarray. "Ah you're so clueless, but you're a cute kind of clueless."

As he approaches you with a smile, you pucker your lips in bewilderment. "Let me help you here."

He pulls a clean rag from the oven handle and drags her hands towards him. You squeak quietly at his abrupt actions, remembering Yoongi cleaning the food crumbs off your hands before. So you let him do what he did.

He adds as Jin keeps wiping your hands. "You should've rolled up your sleeves before mixing the ingredients together."

"It's okay, you didn't even know. Next time." He finally finishes drying your hands and lifts his eyes to meet your innocent, questioning gaze.

They exchanged stares for who knows how long until Jin noticed a smear of soy sauce on your cheek. His eyes narrowed on the spot, and his hand moved to your cheek without thinking as he came closer to your face. "You have something on your cheek."

You remained still, the close proximity quickening your heartbeat. Were you feeling fear, like your had with the angry man on the road? No. Then what was so different about how you felt when Jin is just inches from your face? That, you did not entirely understand.

This feeling of a new sort of pulse beating, the people, and even the environment itself were all foreign to you. Being outside the concrete walls that had imprisoned you had been a dream in the past, but it was now your new reality. You were finally experiencing it. Perhaps in an extremely bizarre way, as most people would put it, but anything had to be better than looking at those concrete walls and feeling trapped by your own father, right?

Jin came to a stop so near to your face that you could feel his breath tickling your nose. With his fingers hovering over your cheek, he wiped the sauce off your smooth skin with his thumb.

As he withdraws, a smirk appears on his face. "There you go, all done."

"Your hands could be sticky as well, so go wash your hands and we'll continue from here." You nod once again and do what you’re directed.

And for the remainder of the cooking time, you lingered behind Jin, a curious expression on your face, watching him work earnestly.

Jin eventually finishes their food after only an hour and a half. "Ya! I need one of you to help me in bringing out the food!"

Several footsteps can be heard before one individual enters from the kitchen entryway. "I'll help you hyung."

Jungkook walks over to the large island table and carries the other dish that his hyung had cooked. The meal is brought to their dining table by the two men. "Hey, erm, 007...?"

You glance up at Jin when you hear your name and wait for him to continue. "Could you please bring some plates and chopsticks?"

"Okay." You squeaked.

You looked inside the cupboards Jin had been rummaging through while cooking, searching for those white ceramic round circle plates. As you scanned the cupboard, you spotted the stacked plates. You stretched, nearly reaching for the plates with her fingertips.

As you ostensibly struggles to get the plates yourself, she huffs. After a prolonged strain, you felt your fingertips slightly contact the ceramics and instinctively sought to lean to get a proper grip. You were so focused on retrieving those dishes that you didn't notice the tall figure who walked back into the kitchen. "Ya, what are you doing?"

You flinch at his unexpected presence, startling you, and the plate you barely clutched slips from your loosened hands and smashes on the floor with a loud clatter. You released a small gasp, clearly alarmed by the abrupt predicament.

The said person scrambles forward instantly. "Ya, are you okay?!"

And as soon as you saw him, you identified the familiar face of the man you met in the alleyway who protected you without hesitation. "That was so sudden, I'm sorry."

He says tearing you out of you short daze, gazing at him a little stunned. "It's okay, it's my fault, I clean."

You then lowered your eyes, eventually frowning at the mess you had created. You crouched above the shattered fragments of the once-round porcelain dish without thinking. Upon seeing this, Jungkook scurried to your aid, shaking his head. "No- It's alright. I came up behind you without warning."

"I'll clean it up, you'll only hurt yourself—" The sound of glass thudding and a small yelp alerted him, and he noticed blood seeping out of your palm. "See, I told you. Let me do it."

"Let's wrap this up first." He grabs you injured hand, but you pull it back, shaking your head.

"I heal, remember?" Your eyes then turned purple, and the cut on your palm gradually closed, reverting your hand to normal.

Jungkook watches you as you heal yourself in front of him. That's right, I suppose that'll be the new normal now that she's here. Still, he will always remain awestruck by your abilities, although he doesn't look like he is. "Well, even if you can self-heal, that doesn't mean you put yourself in harm's way all the time."

"Let's get you off the floor for now." He wraps his arms around your slender frame and effortlessly scoops you up, eliciting a subtle squeal of surprise from you.

He then places you on the long island table and sweeps the broken ceramic off the floor. When he's finished, he approaches you again. "You know, there's no shame in asking for help. Especially if it keeps you away from harm's way."

You nod slowly, and Jungkook smirks. "Normally, I wouldn't be so courteous to a stranger I'd only met two days before. But you're different, which I like."

"You also helped me, so I guess my behavior right now is a way of expressing thank you for me." He explains himself sheepishly.

Why was he explaining so sheepishly? It wasn't like he was attempting to declare his love to his crush or ask a girl to a school dance. So why does the cute clueless stranger he encountered on the road who can magically heal people make him feel that way when he speaks to her? It seems like such a complicated question to answer.

When you returned his stare, you both fell quiet, unsure what to say next. After what seemed like many minutes of silence, Jungkook couldn't stand it any longer and cleared his throat. "I'll just grab the plates and you can grab the chopsticks."

"Does that sound good?"

You nod and look down from the counter as if you’re uncertain how you’ll get down from there. This does not go missed by him, and he almost laughs at the sight of your innocent concentrated face trying to figure out how to get off.

Without warning, he puts his hands around your waist, lifts you, and lowers you to the floor. "There you go."

"Let's join the rest for dinner, I'm sure we had them waiting quite long enough."

For the following days, Namjoon summoned the gang for another brief meeting, this time to discuss future plans regarding the allegedly stolen medical equipment and the gang that was transporting it. Everyone agreed that it was necessary to begin investigating the truth behind the smuggling business that had been operating under their noses for nearly two decades.

So, since then, some members have kept holed up in the house, going through recent and archived files and phoning contacts, while others have gone in and out meeting other different 'acquaintances' who prefer the traditional way of discreet information dissemination. However, as the days turned into weeks, the group failed to find even a single lead. File after file, contact after contact, it seems that the so-called "smuggling firm" didn't exist.

No one had the slightest knowledge about it not even the whereabouts of that unidentified gang. And this increased Bangtan's suspicions. They all inherently congregated in the living room at the end of the day and sat drained along the couches.

Yoongi rubs his eyes, almost laughing. "This is like chasing after a ghost."

"What are we even doing?"

"Whoever put in this much effort to keep this thing running in such secrecy for so long must be in a higher status. So the real question is, what are they doing with all of these packages of supplies that would force them to conceal it so desperately?" Jin's brows furrows.

Jungkook cocks his brow while staring down. "Something illegal— extremely illegal."

"But we do illegal shit almost everyday." Taehyung responds bluntly.

The others threw him a deadpan expression. "What? It's true!"

Namjoon sighs. "But, Jungkook and Jin are right." He thinks for a moment. "Jin, do you think you could analyze the supplies within the cargo? Maybe we can start speculating from there once we understand exactly what's in there."

The eldest nods. "Yeah, I can do that. But as I said before with the whole military mainframe hacking, this will also take time."

"And, as I have mentioned, it's fine; what matters is that we get to the bottom of this."

"Should we ask our wonderful guest again?" Jimin advises as he cracks his knuckles.

Taehyung sighs. "That little shit refuses to speak. We've gone at him for hours on end."

"And at this point, he's pissed me."

Yoongi scoffs. "Maybe you need to try a different tactic—"

"What kind of tactic?" Taehyung huffs.

"The Oranyan tactic." He replies.

Jimin rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure, good luck trying to get something out of him."

"Watch me." He flashes a sly grin.

With that, Yoongi heads to the basement himself, walking into the dim gray room. There, the surviving member of the cargo delivery they interfered in is now bound to a chair, blood trickling down his nose and purple bruising on his right eye and cheekbones. His head hangs as he was rendered unconscious by the constant pain from yesterday afternoon.

Yoongi approaches the poor man, kicking his foot, awakening him. "Ya, wake up dipshit."

The man groans, groggily lifting his head up. His swollen eyes fluttered open, finally landing on the master manipulator himself. He visibly gulps, this doesn't go missed by Yoongi, making him smirk cockily.

"Good, you already know who I am. No introductions needed, I like that." He tilts his head teasingly.

"Jesus fuck- how many there are of you guys?"

"Enough." Yoongi states bluntly.

"W-what do you want? Your friends already talked to me, and I ain't telling you shit."

Oranyan chuckles humorlessly. "Well good news for you, I don't need you to be talking for while—" The man's face twitches, making him continue. "Bad news, you're going to wish you had."

Two hours later...

The beaten man is no longer restricted to the chair but is suspended from the ceiling by his wrists. Yoongi's knuckles are red from the repeated strikes, but his patience is wearing thin. That's it, he tried to be kind.

He then opens a metal drawer and pulls out a syringe. He moves back up to the man, noticing his wary eye on the needle he's holding. "Oh, you must be wondering what this is?"

"Have you heard of opioids? The drug that supposes to relieve pain... Well, with the proper hazardous amount of an extra component, like fluoroquinolone, it will have the complete opposite effect."

"What does that mean for you? This means that the pain will intensify ten times worse than the minor pain you think you can handle. And well—" His lip rolls up. "You better hope your pain tolerance is immeasurable."

Yoongi had fulfilled his goal, the terror had settled in his eyes, and he was only going to touch the tip of the iceberg for the man. This satisfies him and simply pushes him to inject the drug, forcing the unfortunate man to scream. "NO! No, please!"

Yoongi removes the syringe and replaces it in the drawer. The tormented gang member cries out and squirms in his confinement. "Don't do this please!"

The second-oldest bangtan member ignores his screams by grabbing an empty bucket, placing it in a sink, and filling it with water. When the bucket is roughly one-third full, he takes it out and returns to his subject, drenching him with water.

"What are you doing?!"

Yoongi snaps his eyes up at him. "Can't a man have his fun?"

He then takes another gadget from the metal drawer. "Did I not warn you? Now you're pleading with me to stop, and I haven't even begun."

"Let me ask you a question. Do you want me to stop?"

He reluctantly nods. "Then tell me who that shipment was for."

Silence.

"All right, you asked for it." He sighs. The electric buzzing sounds as he switches on the gadget, and he immediately pins it on the lowly gang member, causing him to scream in agony. Thank goodness for Jungkook's idea to soundproof the room.

He lowers the electric device, allowing the man to breathe deeply... "Gonna talk now?"

He simply shakes his head, causing Yoongi to sigh in disappointment, before repeating his actions.

An hour later...

Shit, he looks like he might... No, he won't, he still needs to give some information. Yoongi groans, knowing what he needs to do now, but dreads it.

But he has to do it for the sake of his family. "You're lucky, you get a break. Because I'm not done with you yet."

As a response, he receives a pained moan, which causes his eyes to roll. He finally departs the basement, passing by the living room, where Hoseok and the maknae line were sitting with instant ramen bowls in their hands.

Jimin pauses in his chewing, making eye contact with his hyung. "So, did he talk?"

Jungkook giggles, attracting Yoongi's attention. "Something funny, Jeon?"

"No, no— uh, nothing." He coughs, continuing eating his noodles.

"Well, why are you here if you're getting close?" Jimin inquired.

"Because that fucker has a low toleration, he looks like his heart is ready to quit beating if I keep going."

Hoseok's pupils dilated. "What, why? What have you been doing?"

"Didn't you hear him earlier, he say his 'oranyan tactics'?" Taehyung nudges him.

"Seriously, Yoongi what did you do?"

"I might've given him the drug." He answers haphazardly.

All four of their faces drops. "You what?!"

"But Jin hyung said-"

"I know what Jin said. But it was the only thing that triggered that prick, okay? And if it works, it works, and I will continue to do so." He cuts off Hoseok. "Now tell me where that weird chick is."

"Where she's always been... Her room." Taehyung sighs.

Yoongi left the living room and proceeded to your room without saying any more.

Before leaving your room, Jimin and Jungkook assisted in keeping you entertained by setting up your television. You were so engrossed by the moving images and characters on the TV that you hadn't noticed Yoongi enter your room after two knocks that you ignored.

He came to a stop when he saw you were too absorbed in a... children's cartoon? His brow furrows at the scene, and he clears his throat loudly, capturing your attention.

Your head swings around at him, little startled by his presence. Your doe eyes reciprocate his gaze. When your eyes connect, he can't help but look away, trying to hide the sudden warmth that has crept up on his cheeks. "H-hey."

You cock your head. "Hi..."

"I need uh- I need you to do something for me." He starts. "There is someone here who is being questioned by me. But it looks like he might pass out from all blows he got."

"I also don't want to risk him dying before I have any information from him."

You keep staring at him, urging him to continue. "What I'm trying to say is, you need to heal this guy, or whatever."

At his remarks, your brows raise. "Okay."

"He hurt really bad?"

"I guess?" He shrugs.

You then hop off the bed and stand on your own two feet. "I will heal then."

Yoongi nods, mildly stunned by your instant obedience. "G-good, follow me."

He then walks you out of your room and down the stairs, passing through the living room, where the three youngest and Hoseok still stay. "Hey cutie~! Whatcha doing out?"

Taehyung greets you with the same boxy smile he had the first time you two met.

"Following him..." While glancing at Taehyung, you point at Yoongi. "He said someone hurt really bad, so I heal."

"Oh..." His lips curled slightly downward as he turned to look at his hyung.

"You're seriously going to bring her down there?"

"Yeah, so?" The latter replies dismissively.

"Hey, this is your problem, don't drag her into this. It's your fault for using that drug on him. I'm guessing you gave him more than the proper dose." Hoseok quickly intervenes.

Yoongi huffs. "Would you all stop ganging up on me. I'm trying all I can to acquire some sort of lead and help us all."

"May I remind you all that we've been running in circles with these detective games for weeks and haven't gotten far."

Hoseok's shoulders slump, Yoongi isn't wrong. If they had any suspicions about anybody or anything, they could usually track down the person's whereabouts, associates, background, and whole past in a matter of days. But not this time; the pending investigation has been prolonged for far too long already, and it's quite eerie for them to go this far without knowing who or what is involved in this whole quandary.

"Well, just know that if Jin finds the extent of your 'interrogation,' you will bear the consequences." Jungkook breaks the tension.

One thing about Jungkook is that, despite being the youngest, the maknae of the gang, he can be pretty mature and frequently plays the part of the elder one or even the group leader when the circumstance calls for it. Perhaps it is because he tries his best to be the most level-headed member of the gang whenever there is a problem amongst the members, and the others are tremendously thankful to him for it, either indirectly or directly.

"I understand." He cuts the talk short, then turns to you, who is already staring at him, oh so innocently... "L-let's go."

You nod and continue to follow him, silently, to the interrogation basement.

When you both enter the room, your sight is drawn to the battered form of the guy that hangs from the ceiling. When you return your gaze, Yoongi turns to face you. "He's hurt really bad."

"Yep."

"Heal him, so I can question him more."

You again merely nod as you walk up to the gang member. When you come near to him, he opens his eyes and fixes them on you. You meet his glance with a blank face. "Hello."

He grimaces at you. "What do you want, bitch."

"Bitch?" Your brow furrows in perplexity.

"Yeah, you stupid bitch." He says it again, leaving you even more perplexed. "Did you come here to do your little boyfriend's dirty work?"

"Me heal you." You innocently gesture to him.

He chuckles dryly, then spits in your face. "I ain't falling for your tricks."

You take a step back from him, flinching and closing your eyes at the fluid contact. Yoongi's laughter interrupts the silence, surprising the guy who had missed Yoongi's presence. Oh, how he wishes he had noticed.

"I think you're the stupid one here." Yoongi then approaches you and hands you a white handkerchief while causing you to gaze up at him while still having the man's spit on your face. "Wipe your face with this."

"I was actually generous enough to bring her here to relieve you of your misery. But it seems that you desire to do more." He looks across at the battered prisoner.

"I-I'm sorry, I t-take it back." He splutters.

Yoongi picks up the water-filled bucket once more. "No, no, not again."

He splashes him with water before grabbing the stun baton. "I advise you turn away, kitten if you can't handle this part."

You tilt your head in confusion as he pushes the stun baton on the gang member, eliciting another agonizing cry from him. As the wailing continues, you cringe, shielding your ears.

Yoongi takes away the baton. "Who was the cargo intended for?"

"I-I can't t-tell you. T-they'll kill m-me." The man replies.

Yoongi exhales exasperatedly. "You'll die anyways if you don't tell me who that cargo was for."

The man clamps his lips together, terrified, he looks at the second-oldest member of the bangtan mafia group. "I-I c-can't."

"Then I'll continue." He then applies the stun baton to the prisoner's abdominal region.

The shrieks lasted for a bit longer, till Yoongi removed it again as the man struggled to take deep breaths. Yoongi was about to push the gadget against him again when the gang member stopped him. "Wait, wait!"

"I-I can't tell you w-who the shipment was for, b-because I don't know who it is."

"How can you negotiate a cargo agreement with someone you don't even know?" Yoongi asks, judgingly. "Are you telling me you don't know who this man is?"

He shows the image that was contained in the evidence package from their anonymous tip a few weeks ago. "Isn't this your little gang meeting up with a man who runs a medical facility?"

"Y-yes, but that wasn't who that supplies were for."

"B-but I don't make the deals, s-so I wouldn't know—" He explains.

"You're the one who does the dirty work, I know." Yoongi sighs and sets the photo down after finishing his sentence.

"But if you don't make the deals, surely you know who does." Yoongi arches his brow in expectancy.

The guy nods, gulping. "I-I do..."

"Tell me now."

Jin was on his way to find Yoongi and remind him that it was his turn to make dinner. He enters his dongsaeng's bedroom, only to be met by the void of his presence. He furrows his brows and begins searching for him throughout the mansion until he comes upon their vast gym room, which Jungkook is occupying.

He walks in, quickly drawing the maknae's attention. "Hey, hyung."

"Hey, Jungkook, I'm looking for Yoongi. It's his turn to prepare dinner. Do you know where he is?"

With the white rag in his hand, the younger pats his forehead. "Yeah, he's in the interrogation room."

Jin's brow furrows in surprise. "He's still there?" He glances at his silver wristwatch. "It's almost six, that means he's been in there for hours."

"Yeah, he claimed he was close to getting the guy to talk." He nods.

"Okay, thank you. Remember to wash up before you come for dinner." The elder pivots, about to return to the entrance.

"Yes mom." Jungkook rolls his eyes. "By the way, that girl is with Yoongi as well."

Jin comes to a halt before grabbing the door handle and turning to face him. "The girl? She's in the interrogation room with Yoongi?"

"Yeah, he said he needed her before the guy passed out on him." Jungkook answers without making eye contact as he resumes his workout on the bench.

Jin pauses for a moment. "Why would— Oh, my god, that little... I'll go, see you later, Kook."

The latter simply grunts in response, as Jin walked out of the gym to the basement interrogation room.

As he descends the stairs, he strains his ears to hear something, anything, despite knowing that the room had been soundproofed courtesy of Jungkook's big brain.

He approaches the door and swings it open. "Min Yoongi, what do you think you—"

Jin stop mid-sentence as he registered the scene in front of him. Yoongi is stuck, staring at you with uncertainty as to what to do about the state you're in.

Earlier, before Jin arrived, the gang member finally told Yoongi what he needed to know, and everything he did know. Yoongi then ordered you to heal him in order to torture him again as retribution for the man's delay in providing the information and send a message to that gang. One that tells them explicitly that Bangtan always gets what they want and that no one can or will stop them from achieving their objective; if they do so, they should count themselves unlucky.

Of course, he didn't tell you that. You knew and were trained not to question commands, only to obey them. So you complied with his demands, but both of you didn't anticipate how severe the healing process would be on you, until now.

Like the previous times, your veins from your fingers to your elbow glow purple and match the veins of the man you are holding as your hands are gently squeezing his sides.

The pain was first somewhat more than you could handle, but the more you lingered with the man, the worse it became. You did your best to prevent the cries and whimpers that threatened to spill from your mouth. No, you can't take your hands off him just yet; he's not completely healed, and his pain hasn't gone away, you thought.

Back at the facility where you escaped, if the healing procedure wasn't fully completed and the subject's pain wasn't properly drained out, you were met with consequences. Consequences that ensured you never made the same mistake twice. You want to take your hands off the man, but if you do, you could suffer the same repercussions as before, which you don't want more than anything.

You don't notice it at first, but as the pain transferring grows increasingly intense, your veins and eyes begin to shine brighter and your head rolls back. You whimper softly as you take more, not only feeling the scorching pain in your abdomen but also in your head. You're not sure what's going on, maybe because you've never reduced pain like this before, causing your senses to surge into overdrive.

Blood begins to seep from your nostrils as your face glows brightly and your head lolls back. And it wasn't until you let out an audible whine that Jin breaks out of his trance on you and rushes up to you.

He grabs your shoulders and jerks you away from the man, interfering with the healing process. And as soon as you lost contact, the agonizing sensation subsided, but the aftereffects almost immediately caused you to become limp in Jin's arms.

Jin drops to the floor with you, softly cradling you. He attempts to wake you, but you don't respond. "Ya! Wake up!"

The elder shifts his gaze from you to Yoongi. "What did you do, Oranyan?"

Yoongi meets his gaze. "I didn't do anything. All I asked her was to heal him."

"And from there, I don't know what was happening. I thought she was just healing him."

Jin's lips pinched as he returned his attention to you, his gaze drawn to the blood gushing down your nose. "I-I think it was too much for her."

"Too much?" Yoongi questions.

"After all, she is still a human being, just like me, you, and that punk over there." Jin replies. "Everyone has a limit, I know you know that, otherwise you wouldn't have asked her for help."

Yoongi turns away as Jin rises up and lifts you in bridal style. "I'll have one of the maknaes take care of whatever happened here."

"I came to tell you that you need to make dinner. And you'd best be prepared to explain everything later." He exits the interrogation room, leaving his dongsaeng behind.

Jin walks across the living room to the front entrance as he emerges from the basement. Their medical clinic is separate from their mansion, but still on their property, so they would have to walk a short distance to the modest housing unit.

On the way to the clinic, he comes across Namjoon, who is reading a book on one of the white benches on their magnificent front yard. Jin's footsteps on the gravel draw the leader's attention away from his book.

When he sees your unconscious body in the arms of his hyung, his brow furrows. He stands from the bench and walks over to you both. "What happened?"

Jin sighs. "I'm not sure, I found her with Yoongi in the interrogation room."

"I guess he needed her to heal the guy since he went too far again." He elaborates. "I think she passed out because it was too much for her."

When the three of you arrive at the clinic, Namjoon goes ahead and holds the door open for Jin. Jin lays you on the automatic medical fowler bed before scurrying into the clinic's supply room to retrieve some tools to help you.

"She's bleeding." Namjoon points out, as the other moves about.

"Oh really Namjoon, I hadn't realized that. Thanks for pointing it out." Jin reacts sarcastically.

Namjoon pouts. "Geez, I didn't notice it until now, okay."

Jin finally returns to you with the appropriate equipments. He needs to check sure you're still alive, so he attaches the fingertip pulse oximeter to your index finger and connects it to the machine.

The machine then detects your heartbeat, allowing the elder to exhale a relieved sigh. "Well, she's alive—"

"What are you doing?" Namjoon observes Jin as he drags a machine close to your head.

"I'm going to scan for her brain activity and see what's going on in that little head of hers when this happens." Jin answers. "I had some suspicion when she helped Jungkook."

"And that is?"

"I'll try to explain it simply, you know when she takes away the pain—" Namjoon nods, encouraging him to go on. "I believe she achieves this by transferring the pain we feel to herself, which means she will experience all of our pain at the moment."

Namjoon's pupils constrict. "That's… That's pretty sensible."

"But, we'll conduct a test to further confirm it." Jin tells him. "You asked me to do some research on the girl, so here it is."

"Shouldn't we first wake her up?" Namjoon inquires.

He shook his head. "No, at least not yet. I'd want to compare the results. Right now, her brain activity should be fairly stable, but we'll see."

Jin surrounds your head with the swoop portable mri scanner. He types on the machine's screen, and the machine whirrs away, leaving the two men waiting for the results of the scan.

It isn't long until the device completes the process and emits an electronic beep. Jin moves to the display computer beside them and types briefly on the keyboard before the scan results appear. Namjoon approaches him from behind, peering over his shoulder.

"What do the results indicate?" Namjoon asks, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"These yellow-red patches in her frontal and parietal lobes are likely the stress-related aftereffects of the physical pain she suffered." Jin explains.

"It's almost mostly red on her parietal lobe, is that worse?" Namjoon inquires.

The master hacker nods. "Yes, the parietal lobe is in charge of sensory perception, such as taste, hearing, sight, smell, and… touch."

"You're right, then…" The leader concludes.

Jin snorts. "I'm always right."

Namjoon rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

Suddenly, the two men hear fabric ruffling, signifying that you are waking up.

They pivot, seeing your eyelids flutter open with a scrunch between your brows. When you fully wake, your face softens into a muddled look. You sat up hastily, swiveling your head in the strange room until you noticed the two familiar men alongside you.

Your wide doe-like eyes lock onto them. "W-where am I?"

"You're in our clinic house." The lens-spectacle man responds.

"A c-clinic ho-use…?" You stutter.

"Yeah, it's like going to a doctor's office to be healed and whatnot." Namjoon simply explains for you. "

"Healed…?" You tilt your head. "But I heal me."

"Well, it's also a place to find out whether there's something wrong with you." Jin adds.

Your eyes widen with a trace of panic, which the two men pick up on, only raising more questions about you in their minds. "I-Is something wrong in me?"

The oldest member shakes his head. "I wouldn't say bad, we're just doing tests to see what you do."

They test you; you must do well, you reason, thus you almost instantly sat up straight. "What do I do?"

"Huh?" Jin lifts his brows.

"You said, test me…" You started making that cute gesture you make when you're trying to explain yourself. Wait, cute? What on earth are they thinking?

"So 0-0-7, do what you say."

"Oh well, it's not much. It's a quick thing." Jin begins, then pats Namjoon on the shoulder. "Namjoon here is going to hurt himself, and you're going to heal him again."

Namjoon looks at Jin. "Excuse me? Since when have I-"

"Since now. Now go hurt yourself with something." Jin smiles tightly.

"With what exactly?" He narrows his eyes at his hyung.

The latter merely shrugs. "I don't know. You're the clumsy one."

"Fuck you. I'm NOT that clumsy." The younger scowls.

Jin's brow furrows. "No… You're quite clumsy at times, it's ridiculous."

"Am not." Namjoon groans.

"Remind me who packed the wrong explosive on the helicopter?" The broad-shouldered man crosses his arms and stares expectantly at the other.

"Hey-! It's not my fault they look the same to me!" Namjoon accusingly points at him.

"And neither is it my fault, you were too over-confident."

"Look, if you're not going to hurt yourself, I will." Jin says.

"Oh, really? And how are you—ah!" When Jin jabs a scalpel into his hand and swiftly retracts it, the tactical genius yelps loudly.

"YA! Are you crazy?!" Namjoon exclaims with disbelief.

"I did strap a missile to a tiny helicopter in order to blow up a moving truck… So, perhaps a little?" He replies condescendingly.

"Again, fuck you, that hurt."

"Well, of course, it hurts you pabo, I stabbed your hand."

Jin claps his hands. "Okay, now that he sustained an injury—" He turns to look at you, only to catch you looking at both of them, frightened. Jin's unexpected action may have scared you. The way he didn't think twice about hurting the mafia leader reminded you so much of your father, who didn't hesitate about punishing his scientists and workers if the drugs and experiments on you didn't work or went wrong, along with you, of course.

"Oh, I- um, it's for the test." Jin approaches, but you simply shrink back.

And Jin dislikes it. You and he may have just spent a short time together, but he preferred it when you didn't back away from him. "H-hey, I'm not going to hurt you like that... that, was just for the test."

You reluctantly nodded, then shifted your gaze to the leader, feeling a clear sensation in you that he's hurt. Namjoon meets your eyes, knowing exactly what you're about to ask him. He chuckles to himself, you're like an open book, so simple to read.

He approaches you and extends his hand to you. But Jin stops you before you can display your glowing visage again. "Wait, let me first put this on you."

He grabs a piece of the contraption and places it on your head, puzzling Namjoon. "What is that?"

"It's a neuro headset. It will read her brain activity and transmit it to us in real-time while she heals you." He answers.

As Jin finishes setting the headset on you, Namjoon's lips make an 'o' of understanding. "Okay, you're all set."

Then, he locks eye contact with you, with no animosity. "Don't worry, whether you heal him or not, you'll do well."

Your lips curl into a little grin at his remarks, now nodding with more confidence, which causes him to smile as well. You cover Namjoon's bleeding wound with your feathery touch. Your purple glow comes to life, illuminating your veins, around the wound, and your eyes.

You begin to close the cut on Namjoon's hand while also relieving his pain. And this time, Namjoon truly focusses on your face, attentively watching even the smallest twitches in your face as Jin keeps his attention, analyzing your brain waves. When you transfer the pain into yourself, you close your eyes and your face starts to contort in discomfort.

Jin is right; when you're healing someone, you experience all they feel. He leans back in shock, watching as the wavelengths on the screen bounce higher, indicating the severity of your discomfort. You slowly open your eyes again a few seconds later, and your purple light fades, indicating that the process was complete.

You let go of the dimpled man's hand, revealing it to be perfectly flawless, as if the injury had never occurred. He then pivots, waiting to hear from the master hacker about your brain activity.

Jin just nods his head, confirming Namjoon's thoughts. You're a true enigma to figure out. “How do you feel?”

Namjoon's question makes you blink. “Me?”

“Yes, how do you feel?”

“I feel… okay?” You say.

"007, what did you mean when I asked you how you take away our pain?" Jin asks.

You hum. “Your pain, my pain.”

"I should've known then, but now I know. This changes things a bit."

Namjoon nods. “It does. So we can’t entirely rely on her when it comes to the more severe injuries.”

“We have to tell the others about it.”

“Indeed, we do. We have a lot to talk about anyways, I assume Yoongi got the man to talk.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Yeah.”

By dinnertime, the seven members had gathered in the dining room, where the delicious food had been prepared by the scar-faced man.

The table was unusually quiet, which generally meant that something bad or novel would be spoken. In any case, the maknae line never enjoyed the tense atmosphere, at least not at the dinner table.

Jungkook uttered a whine. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“I have something to say…”

“I have some information…”

Yoongi and Jin spoke at the same time, causing the others to raise their brows and the two men to exchange glances.

“Well, since I’m the older one, you go first.” Jin crosses his arms.

Yoongi only huffs. “Sure… I got a name and location for the gang. The birdie informed me that their gang's leader conducts business in private. But he uses an alias. So it's pointless to try to check his background."

“And the location?” Namjoon inquires.

“Daegu. They had plans if they were compromised they’d lay low there.”

"It seems that their leader loves Golden Dragons. And, that he’s a person we don’t come to and demand of, he comes to you, or so he says.” He rolls his eyes.

“Then we’ll go to Daegu.” Namjoon declares.

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Deagu?! That’s hours away. That’ll be—”

"Yes, it will be a full work day for us, maybe a couple of work days." Namjoon confirms.

"When are we leaving?" Hoseok questions, unfazed by the sudden plans.

"The sooner the better, therefore we'll leave tomorrow." The leader answers.

The maknae groans. “Aw man, that means we’re going to have to pack tonight.” Jimin scolds him quietly by pinching his leg.

“Then it’s settled, we’re going to Daegu tomorrow.”

Jimin looks at Jin. “Now, what was it you were going to share hyung?”

He exhales, his shoulders dropping. “It’s about the girl, 007.”

“What about her? Is she okay?” His face is filled with concern. “Actually, now that I think about it, I haven’t seen her since she went into the interrogation room with Yoongi.”

“Well, she’s alright now. But it’s about her… abilities, we could say…” He begins.

"We all know that one of her abilities is to heal wounds and relieve pain for all of us, or anybody, really—"

"You're rambling again, Jin hyung." Jimin puffs his cheeks.

He exhales forcefully. "Remember when she came to help you when I extracted the bullet from you, Jungkook?" Jungkook nods, and Jin resumes. "What she did when she numbed the pain was transfer the pain to herself."

"Meaning, she felt all the pain you were feeling at that moment—that's how she does that thing." He explains.

The table falls silent once more as everyone processes the new information.

"See, I had a feeling bringing her down there wasn't a smart idea." Taehyung frowns at Yoongi.

"Ya, none of us knew that until now. Don't blame me." The older glares back.

"How did you find out about this?" Asked Jungkook.

"Well, Namjoon and I went to the clinic to run some brief tests on her after she passed out in the interrogation room. Her brain scans reveal it all." Jin replies.

"Ah… I see…"

"Wait- Did you say she collapsed?!" Jimin's eyes widened as he turned to face the person who had prepared dinner.

"What do you want me to say— I didn't think that would happen." Yoongi shrugs.

"Alright, well, we all know now. We can't rely fully on her if one of us suffers a more severe injury." Namjoon breaks up the members' glares and looks.

"But she was fine when she was healing Jungkook," Jimin muses.

"The only difference is that he didn't have the drug put into him." Jin sneers.

Oranyan slams the table with his fist. "Can't you all be thankful that I got something from him to help us all?"

"Seriously, all I've been hearing at this table is how badly I screwed up. It's annoying." He clenches his teeth.

"You know what, whatever, I'm not hungry anymore." He abruptly rises from his seat, and all six of the remaining eyes follow him.

"Where are you going Yoongi?" Jin sighs.

"Room." He walks away without looking back.

They all looked at each other for a moment before Taehyung broke the quiet. "Shouldn't we—"

"No, just leave him alone for the time being. He needs his time to cool off." Namjoon replies.

"And speaking of the girl, since were going on our little business trip, we just can't leave her here the entire time."

"What do you suggest we do?" Hoseok cocks his head.

"We'll enroll her in school." Namjoon responds while slicing his steak.

"A school… You want to put her in school?" Hoseok repeats.

"Yes."

"I think she'll be alright with Sun-woo here." Jungkook insists.

"Yeah, but for a more than a day, busy with what? A children's cartoon?" Namjoon counteracts.

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender. "I'm simply looking at it logically. I mean, she has no social skills, rarely speaks, and doesn't even recognize half of the items in this house. You think she'll survive a day at a school?"

"While I understand your point of view, Jungkook, I think Namjoon's idea is good. How else could she learn those things—certainly not from us." Jin sips from his glass of wine. "And I believe that is also a logical viewpoint. She wouldn't gain from being cooped up in this mansion. And if she's going to stay with us, she might as well learn a thing or two."

"Are we even going to be able to have her registered so quickly? We leave tomorrow." Taehyung questions.

Jin smirks. "Look who you're talking to; what you're asking me is child's play."

"I mean, she's the one forced into a new environment after all." Jimin proposed.

Namjoon nods. "We will and we'll get her registered first thing tomorrow, and then leave later in the evening. Does that sound good?"

Everyone hums or nods in accordance to their leader's instructions.

"So… I think it's very clear we can't register with the number she gave us. She needs a name." Jungkook stuffs his mouth with food, ravenous after all that talking.

"Hmm, you're right… Maybe we can discuss that with her."

Yoongi exits the dining area and ascends the stairs, walking idly along the corridor until he glances up and finds himself in front of your bedroom door.

Over the course of a few weeks, it appears that him bringing your food for dinner has become such a habit that even his body knows where to go and for what without even realizing it. He throws your door open, making you flinch at the door slamming as he strides in, still agitated by the dinner conversation.

“Your food.” He spits, roughly placing it on the bedside table in front of you.

With a little furrow between your brows, you gaze up at him silently. “Y-you… feel not good.”

“Yeah, and I wonder whose fault is that?” He sneers.

"Who?" Curiosity filled your eyes.

He scowls and mentally breathes, cool it Yoongi, one less thing for them to nag you about if you blow up in front of her. "It's none of your business."

You avert your eyes, now staring at the meal. You have a sense that if you make any abrupt moves, you'll set him off. But your inaction seemed to irritate him even more.

You can feel his frustration waves making you tense as he clicks his tongue. “Ya-! Are you gonna eat or what?”

You swallow, unsure where to look, but nod anyway. “I-I will.”

“Well, then…” He narrows his eyes at you.

You perceive this as a cue to start eating on your own. You assume he won't feed you tonight, so you'll have to help feed yourself. And, of course, you're still not sure how to use the utensils.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for the food on the white porcelain plate, scooping up the rice and spicy red vegetable known as Kimichi, which you learned you really liked. Your other hand goes to rip a piece of meat jun that you also found you really liked the flavor of.

So you started stuffing the food into your mouth wordlessly, completely disregarding the silvery utensils on either side of the tray, just like the first time he served you dinner.

He catches your attention with an impatient sigh. "Weeks have passed, and you still can't manage something as basic as a spoon or chopsticks?"

"You see these things—" He motions with the spoon and chopsticks, causing you to nod while starring at him. "Use them. Now."

"O-okay." You squeak, clutching the spoon with your food-strewn hands, knowing that it was easier for you to use.

When you picked up the spoon, you tried to mimic what the man in front of you used to do when he fed you, scooping the rice and ready to rip a piece of meat jun again when Yoongi stopped you. "No, use the chopsticks. You've spent enough time watching to understand how to use it."

You hesitantly nod once more before taking the two silver sticks. However, you struggle to grasp it properly when you try to take a piece of the meat jun with the chopstick, holding the utensil awkwardly. You were able to rip a little bit, but as soon as you got a grip of it between the metal sticks, it fell instantly.

You puff softly, attempting it again—once… twice… three times—but it falls pitifully at each attempt. And this simply adds to the master manipulator's aggravation. "YA! Are you that helpless, or should I say useless?"

Your lips quiver faintly as you recoil at his outburst. You disliked it when people yelled at you. With the pathetic ratio of successes and failures you accumulated during your 'training' and testing, it always reminded you how much of a failure you are.

"Can't even use a simple object. I won't understand how any of them think any good of you when you can't even do this." He rants angrily, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.

And you hadn't realized that when you finally looked up at him again, your eyes blazed purple, indicating that you were scared of him. He exhales deeply before opening his eyes and returning your gaze, noticing your vivid violet eyes.

He's quite taken aback by it, but he doesn't show it. This happened the last time he saw you for the first time. Why are your eyes so bright when you're just with him? He steps back. "I don't have time to deal with this; I'll have someone fetch the platter when you're done."

He quickly pivots, shrewdly speed-walking back to your door, leaving you in the tense atmosphere.

The next day, the group convened once more to have you registered at one of the nearby schools, as planned. After dinner, Jin proceeded to forge various documents to formally enroll you, such as a paper proof of residency and emergency contact information, as well as fill out a general application form to prevent any suspicions and questioning.

To be totally honest, it'll still raise quite a few eyebrows for one of the country's most infamous mafia gangs to suddenly enroll a girl who hasn't seemed to exist for the previous nineteen years.

The final thing they needed to do was to create a birth certificate for you, but first they had to come up with a name for you. So, with the seven men in your room, they start to discuss the ideal name for you.

"Good morning 007." Jimin grins politely and joins the rest of you in the room, holding a platter of steaming tea in his hands.

With a little wave, you falteringly smile. "Hi…"

You gaze with curiosity as he sets the tray on your nightstand. "Is that my medicine?"

Jimin pauses, puzzledly glancing at you. "Medicine-? This? Oh, no, it's tea. Green tea."

"Tea? Will it make me caa-lm?" You queried.

"I guess…? It's healthy for you." Jimin responds hesitantly.

"007, did they give you something like this back where you're from?" Taehyung questions.

You nod truthfully. "They make me take to caa-lm me."

"And do you know what kind of medicine they give you?"

"Mister said P-pavulon… I t-take when they fix me." You stumble through your reply, trying your hardest to get the words out.

Jin's eyes widened in shock, but Hoseok, being the astute observer that he is, notices it. "I take it, it sounds familiar to you hyung?"

Everyone looks at Jin as he nods in affirmation. "Pavulon- or more precisely, pancuronium it's a neuromuscular blocker used as an adjunct to general anesthesia to facilitate tracheal intubation and to provide skeletal muscle relaxation for patients that undergoes mechanical ventilation or I assume, in her case, surgery."

"Maybe talk in dumb for people who don't understand science terminology you." Jungkook smiles sarcastically.

"It's a more targeted paralytic medicine used in conjunction with general anesthetic to induce skeletal muscular relaxation in the patient, which will require mechanical ventilation since they'll struggle to breathe on their own." Jin explains again.

"So they're practically paralyzed from the neck down?" Taehyung frowns.

"Yes, and in fact, seventy percent of the time, some people do not regain their sensation, resulting in death." Jin continues. "That's why several laws to ban the drug were almost passed."

"But I assume it's only after a certain number of times they've been drugged with it or how much they've been given in one dose, right?" Jimin's face is covered in worry.

"That is correct, and she is quite lucky to still be able to move or be alive."

"Wait a minute- why would they need to use such a strong drug to get her into that state?" The maknae wonders aloud.

Namjoon rubs his chin. "That's a good question, Jungkook."

"Well, given what we know, one thing is certain: whatever facility 007 came from isn't a regular facility."

"Jin, you were able to get any details on her?" Namjoon looks to the eldest.

The latter shakes his head. "No boss, absolutely no traces of her. When Jimin and Jungkook met her, she seemed to appear out of nowhere."

"Alright, it seems like we'll have to make do with what she can tell us about the institution where she was held."

"But for the time being, let's concentrate on the enrollment—So, 007…" The leader now turns his attention to you. "We talked last night, and we all agreed to send you to school because we'll be away on a… business trip."

Yoongi snorts, stifling a laugh, at the notion of you attending school during their time in Daegu. But the rest of them gave him a look that made him shrug. "What-? I thought it was funny, nothing wrong with that."

"What is school?" You tilt your head.

"Basically prison." Jungkook muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear, and Hoseok chastised him by nonchalantly smacking the back of his head. "Ow- hey-!"

Your pupils dilated. "Prison? Did 007 do wrong?"

Jimin frantically shakes his head. "No, no, you did nothing wrong. And it's certainly NOT a prison." He then glares at his dongsaeng. "Jungkook has no idea what he's talking about."

"Oh… Then, what is it?" Your face regains its innocent expression.

"It's a place where young people like you go to learn all there is to know about the world." Jimin answers. "It… It can be enjoyable, and you'll meet a lot of other kids like you!"

"Actually, there are no other kids like her. At least a kid who can heal others and herself in seconds and has glowing eyes." Jungkook interrupts.

"Jungkook-! Seriously." Jimin gives him another scowl.

"Okay, I'll stop." He chuckles.

"You'll get used to it, I believe in you." Taehyung smiles at you.

You reciprocate his smile. "Okay, when I go?"

"Today, in a like two hours maybe." Jin checks his watch.

"However, before we can register you, we must first create a birth certificate for you. The only issue is that we need to give you a real name."

"Name…? 0-0-7—" You point to yourself. "Me- my n-name, 007."

Jin shakes his head. "No, that's a number. Those people in your facility didn't give you a name; they just gave you a number. A number makes you a subject, not a person."

"And you're a person, a human, not anything else."

"So, 007, what do you want to be called?" Taehyung lip-smiles.

With confusion, your eyes are blank. "I-I don't know."

"How about, Ae-Ri?" Jungkook suggests.

"Eh, that sounds too girly for her." Taehyung disagrees.

Jimin arches his brow. "Too girly? What makes it 'too girly', Taehyung?"

Taehyung pursed his lips. "Uh… no… Nevermind."

"What about, Eun-Ha?" Hoseok proposed.

"Oh hell no- that's my sister's name. Definitely not." Jin grimaces.

"Okay, not Eun-Ha, what do you suggest then?" The younger said.

"Let's do Min-Ah." He smirks.

Taehyung giggles. "Sounds like the a shorter girl version of Jimin-ah."

Jimin narrows his eyes on the later 95. "Fuck off, Taehyung."

"Hyung!" Jungkook whines as he notices your ears perk up at the swear word from Jimin.

Jimin looks at Jungkook then shifts his eyes to you, where you look at him with wonder. "Fuck?"

He nervously laughs. "Don't repeat that. Especially not in school, okay?"

"Fuck?"

"Yeah, don't say it okay?" And you nod in compliance, to which Jimin sighs in relief.

"Han-Byul, it's classic." Namjoon says.

"No offense Namjoon, but if I were you, I would sit this one out." Jin said.

Namjoon looks at him, completely offended. "What, why? What's wrong with my name idea?"

"It sounds ancient, you're going to make her seem old." Jungkook pats his leader's shoulder.

"Exactly, took the words right out of my mouth." Jin concurs.

"It's not old, it's classic." Namjoon repeats.

"It's old, that's what it is." Taehyung comments.

Jimin then turns to look at you. "007, how do you like the name, Ji-Won?"

"Ji-Won?" You think audibly.

Jungkook snorts. "Are you sure you want to name her after one of your hookups?"

Jimin swivels his head to look at the maknae. "No...? Wait- How do you know her name?"

"You're telling me you didn't know? She's hundred sixty-two centimeters, smaller eyes, black to blonde ombre hair— that girl, does it ring a bell?" Jungkook looks at the older expectantly.

"Ohh- her... Why do you even remember her anyways?" The master seducer squints at him.

"She came crying to me when you broke the 'news' to her one day after your guys 'amazing' night." He answers.

"Oh- well, then I got nothin'." Jimin says.

The room eventually became silent as they all struggled to come up with a nice name for you, as you sat on your knees gazing at them on your bed.

"Y/N." A voice disrupts the silence.

All seven heads turned to look at the source of the voice, and all eyes were drawn to Yoongi. "What did you say?"

"Y/N, it's simple, and it matches her- I guess…" He mumbles, his eyes averted elsewhere, missing the way your eyes gleam at the mention of the name. Hearing it piques your interest.

Another beat goes by, and your sweet voice comes out. "Y/N…"

"I l-like Y/N." You say again.

Jungkook, Namjoon, and Hoseok's expressions gradually shift to one of slight surprise, while Jimin, Jin, and Taehyung's slowly smirk at your response before diverting their attention to the second-oldest member's reaction to your reaction.

Yoongi coughs, attempting to dismiss it; the bitterness from last night is still present. "Goo- Yeah, whatever."

"Alright, if 007 likes it, then we'll go with it." Namjoon claps his hands.

Everyone accepts with a nod, and Taehyung's boxy smile forms on his face. "It's nice to meet finally meet you, Y/N."

You grin, revealing your teeth. "T-thank you, Tae-tae…"

"D-did I say name r-right?"

Hoseok chuckles as he tries to correct you. "It's actually—"

But Taehyung interjects, waving his hand. "Yeah, you can call me Tae-Tae."

You giggle slightly in response to his pleasant remark.

After a fifteen-minute drive, the eight of you arrived at Yonsei University. The chauffeur parks their black Mercedes-Benz Sprinter Luxury van, and shortly after you all exited, eliciting numerous attention from students and a few from the school's bypassing staff.

Your eyes surveyed the magnificent architecture, which was partially covered by what appeared to be green moss. Jimin and Jungkook walked on each side of you, both staring at the structure. "From now on, this is where you'll spend the majority of your time."

You twist your head to look at the tattooed-sleeved man on your left. "I-It looks n-ice."

Jimin hums, looking at you. "I think so too."

"Let's go inside." Namjoon announces.

To say that everyone in the front office was surprised is an understatement. Everyone halted in their tracks to gawk at the mafia gang as they strolled in with you, nearing the front desk where the assistant head administrator stands.

She gulps visibly as you all approach, Namjoon in front. "We want to register a student here. Where is your head administrator?"

"H-quite he's busy at the moment, you might have to wait for about half an hour before he could meet with you." She answers.

"Well, tell him to cancel his plans right now because we're on a tight schedule." Namjoon smiles that didn't reach his eyes.

She timidly nods, reaching for the black phone beside her and dialing the number. "Hello, sir; there are people here who want to enroll a student right now."

"Didn't I say I had work to do? Tell them I decline to meet them, and do your job to set up another time."

"Besides, it's mid-year; they're crazy to register them now."

The assistant anxiously flickers her eyes at Bangtan, which catches Hoseok's attention. "Sir, you don't understand…"

Hoseok's face twitches with amusement as he approaches Namjoon from behind. "Boss, he's most likely refusing."

The woman hears Hoseok and glances at them both with fright. "Ah- no, he'll—"

Namjoon blinks, his face expressionless yet menacing to everyone else. "I'll talk to him."

She hands the phone to Bangtan's leader immediately. He then presses the phone against his ear. "Morning, Pang Chunso-ssi—"

"Who am I speaking to? Are you the one who wants to enroll a student in the middle of the school year? Are you insane?"

Namjoon chuckles dryly. "This is Black Mamba speaking, I'm sure you've heard of me."

The phone went silent.

"Good, you have. Then you should know that I wasn't asking when I said I wanted to register a student here."

The man suddenly clears his throat. "I apologize! O-of course, I'll have my schedule c-cleared out r-right now."

"Excellent. And one more thing Pang Chunso-ssi..."

"Yes... Sir?"

"Am I crazy?" He grinned evilly.

"N-No, o-of course n-not, sir."

"Right, because I'm not that crazy to know about the secret second family you've been hiding from your wife and two kids for the past three years." He replies.

"H-how…"

"Ah, ah, no questions, we'll be at your office in two minutes, and if you're not ready by then, all of those pictures will be sent in two minutes, understood?"

"Y-yes."

"See you soon, Chunso-ssi." He hangs up the phone and returns it to the woman. "Lead us to his office."

They entered the chief administrator's office two minutes later, exactly as Namjoon had stated, with the documents in Jin's hands. As Bangtan comes in, the man straightens up.

He greets Namjoon and the others with a 90-degree bow. "Please take a seat."

"To begin, I'll need the application form, birth certificate, past school records, and emergency contact documents." He begins.

Jin passes over the packet with all of the necessary documentation. "There aren't any school records."

"Pardon?" He raises his eyes to Jin.

"She's never been to school before; this is her first time." Jin responds.

The head administrator's face contorts in befuddlement. "And it's for…" He then takes a look at the application form and the birth certificate. "…Kim Y/N."

"Y/N, me." You smile as you talk, pulling the man's attention to yourself.

He smiles professionally. "That's the new student, I see. I see- well, unfortunately, without any school records, we won't be able to—"

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear Pang Chunso-ssi... Should we find out how your wife and kids will react when they realize you—"

"Okay, okay!" He coughs, trying to keep his composure. "I'll get her registered, she'll start attending tomorrow."

"Today." Namjoon cuts in.

"I- Today..." Chunso glances at his assistant, calling her over. "Tell them to prepare her transcripts and class schedule."

The woman nods, taking the documents and hurriedly leaving the office. Chunso then claps his hands. "Well, you may wait outside, her papers will be ready in a few short minutes."

They all rise from their chairs, and the man bows ninety degrees again. You cock your head. "What are you doing?"

Everyone then looks at you. "I-I'm showing respect."

"Oh." You blankly look at him up and down then mirror his actions, bowing ninety degrees, making the old man's eyes widen. "Huh-?!"

Before you could say anything else, you're grabbed by the shoulder and led out of the office, leaving the headmaster stunned.

"Y/N, you don't have to do that." Jin tells you.

"Why?"

"You're with us, or at least closely associated with us now. And a thing about Bangtan, they don't bow down to anyone, so neither should you." Namjoon explains.

"So... no bow?"

"Yes."

Once your papers were printed, indicating that you were an official student at the school, the assistant informed you that you would be given a tour of the school by another student, which meant that the seven men who accompanied you were no longer required to be present.

So they're back at the entryway, near their parked luxury vehicle, wishing you goodbye.

"I feel like a mother dropping her child off at college." Jin says this while smiling at you. "But aside from that, behave well and have fun, okay?"

He carefully extends his hand and softly pets your head, making you grin slightly as you hum in response.

Jin steps back, allowing the others their turn. Everyone except Yoongi, who is already grimacing in the van as his members say their goodbyes.

Hoseok and Namjoon finished their turn next, followed by Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung.

"Ya, don't do anything I wouldn't, alright?" Jungkook says, causing Taehyung and Jimin to nudge him roughly. "What-? I didn't say anything bad."

"Yeah but she doesn't understand that. And besides, the things you wouldn't do is socialize and be nice to others." Taehyung rolls his eyes.

"That's exactly my point." Jungkook responds, which makes the elder less amused.

He then looks at you. "Hope you have fun my cutie. We'll be back before you know it."

The two youngest then climbed in the vehicle with the others, leaving Jimin alone. "Also if anyone bothers you, tell us okay?"

You nod. "O-okay."

He ruffles your hair lightly. "Bye Y/N. We'll arrange for Sun-woo to pick you up after school."

"Just look for a car like this one, understood?"

"Yes."

Finally, all seven members piled into the vehicle and drove away.

"Y/N-ssi." Someone beckons to you, prompting you to turn around.

"Hello." You greet. "My name, Y/N."

"I know, I called you that." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'm Young-Jae, I'm assigned to show you around the school, so keep up."

"Keep up?" You furrow your brows at the phrase.

"Yeah, it means don't be slow." He scoffs. "What are you five?"

"No, my name, Y/N." You gesture to yourself.

He irritably clicks his tongue. "Yeah, you said that twice, now come on."

After about a half-hour tour of the school, Young-Jae had bite his tongue every few seconds in answer to your absurd questions. Seriously, how do you not know any of the stuff here, like a water fountain. Were you born under a rock, or are you just dumb?

Then a bright bulb went out in his head, yeah, it will undoubtedly be a memorable first day of school for you. He comes to a halt in the middle of his stroll, which causes you to come to a halt as well. "Hey, wanna see a cool spot that no one else knows about?"

"Cool…?" Your brow furrows with interest.

"Yeah, you'll enjoy this." He lies.

"O-okay." You blithely agree. Too easy, he thought.

He snatches your wrist and drags you over campus, your small legs struggling to keep up with his speed. He then comes to a halt in the middle of the corridor, in front of an old, worn-out door. "We've arrived."

You peer around behind him, your gaze scanning the door. "What is it?"

"Oh, there are so many great things you could play with." He responds in a phony happy tone that you miss.

If there was anything nice that came out of the facility, it was the unlimited quantity of toys you were given to keep you entertained in the ten-by-ten-foot box room.

"I-I can g-o in-sside?" You questioned.

"Sure you can!" He opens the door and then shoves you inside. "Have fun!"

Then he shuts the door and doesn't bother to switch on the lights for you. You stare about in the darkness until you hear a click that causes your head to jerk up. "H-hello?"

But all you're met with is silence.

And suddenly, the darkness merely brings back the unpleasant memories you're trying to erase. You start grabbing your chest and squeezing it repeatedly, striving to keep your whimpers silent. Your eyes are closed as you strive to remain quiet; otherwise, someone could discover you and scold you for being so… weak…

"Hello, 007." An artificial voice interrupted your thoughts, forcing you to startle and open your eyes.

Your wide eyes landed on a purple three-dimensional holographic lady, and your eyes began to glow violet again as you stared at the unknown woman in front of you.

"Do not be afraid 007, I am only here to assist you." The woman speaks robotically.

"My name is Genesis, and I am a three-dimensional artificial intelligence. Dr. Hyon Kwan created me. Also known as for you, Mister."

masterpost | two | four

458 notes · View notes