#honestly i’m just glad he remembered the name . he has face blindness but insists this applies to names too

[milflewis]

your dad saying kyle is your sugar daddy made me choke on my dinner lmao. why is that something you would say???

bc to my greatest despair and smallest comfort i am my father’s daughter and thank you for the reminder of that

[xbaepsae]

same old mistakes (m)

“But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

[rich boy!hoseok x reader]

genre: country club!au, smut, slightly angsty, some fluff

word count: 12.8k

rating: mature

warnings: sex. lots and lots of unprotected sex lmao (please use protection), slight rough sex, some jealousy, rich prick asshole jung hoseok, mentions of alcohol, language, golf terminology (i’m sorry if it’s wrong idk anything about golf LMAO) oblivious mutual pining lol

a/n: omg this fic absolutely consumed me these last few weeks. i haven’t been able to think about anything else, which is why i haven’t been super active lol. so glad i finished this before the upcoming valentine’s holiday and hobi’s birthday <3 loved writing this so much! rich asshole hoseok has my heart. xoxo

You have never felt more flustered in your life.

It’s the summer after your first year of college, and you decided to come home—to spend a little time with your mother and her new husband. Well, more like she begged you to come home. You actually wanted to visit your roommate’s family on the coast, and spend your days at the beach, but your mother insisted that you come home instead.

Now that you are home, she doesn’t even have time to spend with you. She and her husband are too busy vacationing; that should’ve been you. You can’t even bear to look at your roommate’s Instagram account. And worse of all, your mother signed you up for a job you did not consent to.

“You did what?”

Your mother blinked back at you, feigning innocence. “I heard from Mrs. Lee—you know, our neighbor down the street that attends the local country club—and she said that they were hiring for the summer. You know how rich people love their golf and fancy dinners.”

“And you just decided to volunteer me?” You couldn’t believe her. “I don’t want to work at some prissy country club.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about being broke last week?” She really did not need to expose you like that. “This’ll be good for you, honey.”

Thus, you found yourself standing in front of the country club not even a week later. They hadn’t even asked you to do an interview; you just talked to a manager on the phone and she said for you to just come in. Honestly, too suspiciously easy but what could you do about it? Your mother had been right—you did need the money.

When you arrived, you were immediately whisked away into training. There, one of the girls, Soyoung, fitted you into the uniform—a plain white polo and khaki shorts—and told you what you’d be doing here.

“So, there are a lot of different areas here,” she began, “as you can see from how big this country club is. So, you might find yourself working in different areas occasionally…but for now, you’re going to be on the course with the drink cart.”

Soyoung explained that as the drink cart girl, you’d be driving a golf cart around while handing out beer and other drinks to the golfers on the course. It seemed easy enough, except you’d never driven a golf cart before…or tried to sell people something. However, Soyoung assured you it was easy.

But that was about an hour ago. Since then, a lot has happened. You managed to get the golf cart to work, but it is considerably different from an actual car. The forward/backwards switches were tripping you up. Because of that, you already knocked over a display…or two.

Which leads you to your most embarrassing moment.

For some reason, you forgot that being back in your hometown means the possibility of running into people you went to high school with. The thought just didn’t seem to come to mind. Being off at university has made you forget about all of those idiots you used to be around every day. Until now, when you bump into one of them. Literally.

You really hadn’t seen him behind you; then again, you weren’t looking, which was probably not the greatest idea. But you blindly backed up and hit him. Not that you were going fast or anything, but he did cause an outburst.

“Oh my—fuck! Watch where you’re going!”

Horrified, you press onto the breaks. Turning around, an apology begins to fall from your lips. “I am so sorry. It’s my first time—”

“Y/n?”

You freeze at the voice; it sounds awfully familiar. Blinking a few times, your eyes focus on the person in front of you. And your stomach sinks. Standing in front of you is none other than Jung Hoseok—the last person you ever expected to see again.

He must see the recognition fill your eyes because he instantly smirks. “Wow, it really is you. It’s been a while, huh? Haven’t seen you since graduation.”

An awkward laugh passes through your teeth. “Yeah…it really has.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” his smirk seems to widen, and his eyes travel down to your clothes. “You work here or something?”

“Yeah…just started today, actually.”

He nods appreciatively. “Nice. Well, I’m here almost every day, so, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

I hope not. “Sure.”

Just as Hoseok opens his mouth to say something else, someone calls his name. He looks away from you, and that’s when you finally allow yourself a moment to look at him. For the first time, you realize how long a year is and how much change can happen in that time frame. Even though it irks you a bit to think about, he looks really good—even in his damn polo and khakis.

You take in the curved slope of his nose, the way his brows are perfectly arched to match his equally perfect eyes. And you’re almost blinded by his pearly white smile. Perhaps, Hoseok has always been attractive—dark, windswept hair and all. You’ve just never wanted to admit it; even after that one—

“Catch you around, y/n,” he suddenly says, and that’s when you realize he’s caught you. He smirks and shoots you a wink as he walks away, leaving you to mentally kick yourself alone.

***

In high school, you and Jung Hoseok were in different crowds. He was preppy and popular—kind of snooty, to be honest—and you were just normal. Not popular, but not a complete wallflower either. Despite not being in the same circles, you both had a few classes together; which meant that you knew each other decently well. At least, you knew enough about Hoseok that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Except for that one, momentarily lapse of judgment, your conscious suddenly reminds you. But you’d rather not think about that right now.

Another thing about Hoseok that you knew of was his background; he came from money—a lot of it, actually. You don’t know exactly what his family does, but they’re those old money types; the kind of rich people that have been rich forever. Which helped to explain his popularity in high school, and how he had a country club membership now.

You wished you knew that before you got the job here.

As you drive around the golf course, feeling more comfortable driving the cart now, you may or may not be on the lookout for Hoseok. Now that you know he’s here, your eyes seem to search for him everywhere. And it’s not because you want to see him; you want to avoid him, if possible.

It’s not until you’re halfway through the course that you see him with a group of other guys, which—to your displeasure—are also people you went to high school with. It’s fitting though, you presume, considering they were all close then as well.

You don’t know anything about golf, but you watch as Hoseok lines up his club to the ball. He swings only once, and the ball flies. You follow where it goes and watch as it hits the grass and rolls right into the hole. His friends cheer for him as he turns around with a smug look on his face. “And that, everyone, is how you fucking do it.”

“Nice, man,” one person—who you recognize as Jeon Jeongguk—says, moving to pat him on the back.

“The motherfucking GOAT,” another—Kim Namjoon—laughs.

“Maybe you should just go pro or something, dude,” the last guy says, and you recognize him as Kim Seokjin. “Because you’ve hit an ace, birdie or eagle at every hole.”

Hoseok laughs at that. “Maybe I’m just lucky today.”

“Dude probably just had good ass last night,” Namjoon smirks. “So, who was it?”

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell, my friend,” Hoseok winks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the banter between all of these men. Disgusting. “But if you really want to know…”

“Not you trying to get Hoseok’s sloppy seconds,” Seokjin speaks directly to Namjoon. “Because we all know how that went the first time with—”

“It wasn’t my fault Katie caught feelings,” Hoseok interrupts, walking back towards the rest of his friends. “I told her it was a one-time thing.”

Jeongguk struggles not to laugh as he moves up to line his club and ball. “And then you introduced her to Namjoon.”

“And she used him to get closer to…” Seokjin starts to say, but then he notices you. You’ve never seen someone straighten up so quickly. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” you say as three pairs of eyes turn to look in your direction as well. “Um, drinks?”

“Took you long enough to get here, y/n. I was starting to wonder when you’d arrive,” Hoseok takes a step in your direction, and you watch as the rest of the guys do a double take.

Namjoon is the first to speak, “Ah…y/n. Yes, I remember you…we had chemistry together, right?”

“Oh my gosh, you were in my calculus class!” Jeongguk exclaims, golf club still mid-air.

“I don’t think we had any classes together,” Seokjin says with a pout. “Because if we did, I would’ve remembered you for sure.”

For some reason, you feel your cheeks get hotter. “Um, thanks?”

You can tell they want to say more to you, but Hoseok shoots his friends a look you can’t see, and they close their mouths immediately. Turning back to you, he takes another step close to your golf cart. “A beer for each of us.”

“Aren’t you all underage—”

“No one cares here, y/n,” he cuts you off with a smirk. “Besides, Seokjin’s father owns this country club—we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Shock passes through you at this news, mouth dropping at the realization that Hoseok and his friends might be more privileged than you originally thought.

“And we don’t usually have to pay for anything, but”—he fishes for something in his pocket— “here.”

You look down at his extended hand, where a crumpled 100-dollar bill sits, and practically gawk at it. Who carries such large bills around so casually? “What—?”

“Keep the change,” he stares you right in the eyes, and you have no other choice but to accept the money.

“Thanks,” you manage to say before reaching around to grab four beers from the cooler.

As each bottle is plucked from your hands, Hoseok is the last person to grab his; and the way his fingers accidentally touch your own seems like no accident at all. Although it was only for a few seconds at most, his touch leaves your skin burning. Burning for what? You don’t know; but it lingers the rest of your shift in a way that is so distracting, you nearly hit someone else with the golf cart.

***

“So let me get this story straight, you saw a guy you fucked for the first time in a year and now you don’t know what to do with yourself. Worst of all, his presence at your new job is going to be the death of you.”

You cringe at your roommates’ words. “God, why do you have to say it like that.”

“I mean, that’s who he is right?” her voice echoes through the screen.

She’s not wrong, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “When you say it like that, it’s just weird.”

“Y/n, you act like you haven’t fucked other guys before.”

“Yes, but what happened with Jung Hoseok was a mistake,” you breathe. “It was never supposed to happen.”

Her pixilated expression softens upon seeing your clear distress. “I understand, babe. We all do things we regret.”

But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong. It wasn’t like he coerced you into that bedroom; you willingly followed him inside. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because you had been as sober as the day you were born.

It was graduation weekend, and everyone had come out to celebrate. You really didn’t want to go, but some of your friends forced you. Just enjoy the time we still have together, y/n, they had said. Ironic, because you no longer spoke to any of them.

Around the fire, behind the massive patio of someone’s house, drinks were poured and passed around. Even though you held a red solo cup in your hand, the murky liquid didn’t draw you in; you hated the way alcohol tasted back then. Still kind of do. But you simply pretended like you were enjoying yourself.

Every single part of you wanted to leave early that night, but you didn’t. You ended up staying because of Hoseok. It was something about the way he carried himself at that bonfire that night. Before, you never saw him as anything more than a spoiled brat; however, the flames of the fire seemed to soften him before your eyes. Because before you knew it, Hoseok pulled you away from the stares of everyone else.

You don’t even remember what happened—what you two talked about or didn’t talk about. But something happened before he kissed you. Unfortunately, it’s all a blur now.

After swelling your lips with, what seemed like, a thousand kisses, he told you he wanted more; and you told him yes. The memory of him rushing with you through the house and into a vacant room still burns hotly in your mind. You had been giddy with nerves and excitement as he pushed you against the closed door, sucking the air from your lungs.

Hoseok ripped your clothes off with practiced hands, clearly experienced with this, and made you come undone more times than you can recall. Throughout this whole exchange, not much was said; but no words were needed when he could read your body so well.

The both of you ended up falling asleep like that—tangled in each other’s arms. And when you woke up a few hours later to the rising sun, horror filled your veins like a shock of ice.

You left without saying anything. Not that you think he would’ve cared either way. Jung Hoseok seemed like he would be used to stuff like that.

You just never thought you’d see him again one year later.

But here he is.

***

During your next few weeks at the country club, you try your best to avoid Hoseok.

This, however, proves difficult to do since you can hear his laughter echoing everywhere. From the hallways to the range, you can’t seem to escape him at all. And it doesn’t help that his friends all seem to be around too.

Every time you catch even the smallest glimpse of him, you turn in the opposite direction. You aren’t sure if he can tell that you’re avoiding him or not, but you don’t care—you just want to get this summer over with already.

“Y/n!”

Turing in the direction your name is being called, you see Soyoung walking towards you. You offer her a tight smile, hoping she isn’t here to tell you that you’re in trouble or something. “Soyoung. What’s up?”

“Do you mind helping me clean up a little by the pool? I know you just got done on the range, but a girl called out and I could really use the help.” She gives you this sad puppy look, which means you can’t refuse her offer. So, begrudgingly, you follow her back outside.

In the hot summer sun, the large crystal blue pool looks like temptation. Soyoung notices your face and laughs. At her laughter, you realize you’ve never seen the pool this close. You pass by the canopy lined pool lounge every day, but you’re not a maid here or on lifeguard duty so you’ve never had a reason to linger very long.

“Looks inviting, huh?”

All you can do is hum in agreement as you begin helping Soyoung pick up disserted pool towels and throwing them into the hamper. As you’re bending down to retrieve a particularly wet towel on the concrete, the hot sun beating down your back is suddenly gone. You look up and notice there’s a shadow blocking the sun—a suspiciously familiar shadow.

Immediately, your back straightens, and you turn around to face a shirtless Hoseok. His hair is wet from the pool, which means beads of water are cascading down his chest. You try not to stare, but he’s literally so close; there’s nowhere else to look. Your eyes follow the towel in his hand as he begins to dry himself up, going from his abdomen before they travel down to the dark trail of hair that leads to—

You freeze and force your eyes back up, but the smile on his face tells you that you got caught—again.

“Like what you see?” His smile seems to grow wider at your expression.

You scowl. “In your dreams, Jung Hoseok.”

He leans down, face inches from yours, whispering, “If I remember correctly, that dream already came true…one year ago.”

Before you can say anything, he stands back up to his full height and brushes past you—his naked skin burning holes through your clothes. Once he’s a few steps away from you, you realize his friends were also there the whole time. Embarrassment burns your cheeks at what they might’ve thought, but their expressions remain too ambiguous for you to read as they follow their friend.

“I didn’t know you knew Hoseok.”

Your head whips towards Soyoung. “I don’t…I mean, not really. We just went to high school together.”

But your coworker doesn’t seem to buy it. “Really? I’ve been working here for a few summers and those guys have always been around, especially because Seokjin’s dad is the owner. I’ve tried to make small talk with them a few times, but they’re pretty intimidating.”

“They’re pricks,” you tell her. “Typical entitled rich boys.”

“I suppose so,” she hums, throwing the last towel into the bin. “Anyway, can I ask for another favor?”

All you can do is nod. “What?”

“I have another thing I have to do,” Soyoung starts, making you realize she works pretty hard here, “so, can you put these towels in the laundry room? You don’t have to start a load or anything; just leave them and one of the maids will wash them later.”

She slips the laundry room key into your pocket, telling you to give it back to her later, as she rushes off to her next task. Which leaves you to find the laundry room by yourself. After nearly ten minutes of searching, you find it tucked in a small hallway.

Opening the door, you push the dirty towel hamper into the room. You look around and see multiple washers, dryers, and a lot of storage shelves filled with miscellaneous items. You’re so caught up in looking around the room that you almost don’t hear the door close. At the sound of the lock clicking into place, you turn around; immediately, your heart starts beating faster.

“What are you doing in here?”

Hoseok leans against the door, no longer shirtless like before, and smirks at you. “I was following you.”

Like that’s not weird at all. “Stalker much?”

“Just wanted to know why you’ve been avoiding me, that’s all,” he pushes off the door, taking a step closer. You unconsciously take a step back, hitting the hamper.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lie.

He just blinks at you. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You’re shocked that he can read you so well. “Okay, so what if I am avoiding you? It’s not like you should care. Just leave me alone.”

For a brief moment, something passes over his eyes; but the emotion’s gone before you can think about it. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What?” Now, it was your turn to blink rapidly.

Hoseok takes another step towards you, severing whatever distance there had been before. His arms move to cage you between himself and the dirty hamper. Slowly, he leans down, making sure not to move his eyes away from yours. “I can’t just leave you alone—not when you’re the only thing on my mind.”

“What are you trying to say—” his hand wrapping around your jaw shuts you up.

“To put it simply, I can’t stop thinking about you—about that night after graduation,” he says, eyes swirling with a darkness you know all too well.

“But that was a year ago,” you manage to say through clenched teeth, and he loosens his grip on you.

His signature smirk lights his lips. “So?”

“I was drunk,” you lie again. “I don’t even remember what happened.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t remember this?” One hand curves around your hip. “Or this?” Another wraps around your waist. “Or this?” He plants his lips onto your jaw.

You release a harsh breath as the memories of that night come flooding back. Heat begins to pool in your stomach from his touch. As he peppers kisses along your jaw and down your neck, your hands move to fist his shirt. Just as a moan threatens to leave your throat, he pulls away.

Your lips part in indignation at the loss of touch, and Hoseok just smirks even wider. “I thought you said you don’t remember?”

“I’m going to kill you, Jung Hoseok,” your frustration is through the roof.

“Tell me you remember.”

Right now, there are two sides of you fighting. There’s one part of you that wants to tell Hoseok you don’t remember a single thing—that you really had been drinking graduation night. But there’s an even larger part of you that wants him so bad—to feel the same high you felt a year ago.

So, you settle with, “But I’m working right now.”

Hoseok’s eyes turn obsidian as his smirk drops. “I’ll be quick.”

He pulls you away from the hamper and pushes you, stomach first, against one of the washers. Suddenly, you realize what’s about to happen and you try to force the dopey smile off your face by biting your lip. In one swift motion, he unbuttons and pulls both your shorts and panties down to your ankles. By the sudden coolness below, you already know you’re soaking.

And Hoseok must realize this too because you feel him swipe a long finger over your folds. You instinctively jerk back, letting out a moan at the slight pressure. “Hoseok—”

“Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet for me already,” he groans, using a second finger against your wetness. He slowly rubs your clit and you can’t help but tighten your grip against the cool machine. “Wonder if you’ve been wet since we saw each other earlier.”

You roll your eyes. Typical, cocky Jung Hoseok. “Of course not, you douchebag.”

“I beg to differ,” he hums, inserting a single digit inside of you. “So tight—just like I remembered. Tell me, y/n, has anyone else had the pleasure to fuck your pretty pussy after me?”

His words cause you tense for a moment, before replying, “Yes, asshole. I went to college. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking that I’m about to fuck you so good,” he starts and finishes with a whisper, “that you won’t remember any of them.”

If you weren’t already turned on before, you were now. Hoseok continues to fuck with his finger, slowly adding a second one, edging you until you’re a panting mess before him. “S-Stop teasing—I thought you said you were going to be quick?”

“I will be,” he promises, and you can hear him pushing the waistband of his swim trunks down. You’re dying to see his cock again, so you turn and nearly drool at the sight of his angry red tip. For some reason, he looks bigger than you remember and that worries you a little. “What? Think it won’t fit?”

You raise your eyes to look at his, and he has the sexiest expression on his face you’ve ever seen. “No. It fit before, right?”

He licks his lips as he brings his cock close to your entrance, brushing his head back and forth against your clit. You turn back around, arching your back more in hopes that he’ll finally just stick it inside already. But before you can get too lost in the moment, you gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He actually sounds concerned.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, facing him again. And by the pained expression on his face, he doesn’t. You let out a frustrated groan at getting all worked up for nothing. You’re about to reach down for your panties when he pushes you back into place. “What?”

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yes,” you answer, “but the pill is only—”

“I’ll pull out,” he says. “And I’m clean, I swear.”

You look into his eyes and seeing the desperation in them makes you want to indulge him. “I’m clean too.”

Hoseok breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank fucking god.”

“You better pull out, or I swear Jung—”

You fail to get the rest of your words out because he slams his cock into you. And you’re right—he is bigger than you remember. He bottoms out at your cervix and you feel like a mess already. You both moan at the feeling of being connected like this again, after so long, and Hoseok keeps his promise and wastes no time.

He thrusts into you hard and fast, leaving you to do nothing but take everything he has to give. “Fuck, Hoseok—oh my god.”

Earlier, he talked about fucking your past sexual exploits out of you, but there was no need to mention anything at all; no one compares to him. They never had a chance.

“Shit, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips.

And soon enough, you feel your orgasm approaching. It’s slow building, but it’s there and you want it. You figure you’ll just chase it yourself. Reaching a hand down, you find your clit and begin rubbing it. But just as soon as you feel yourself get closer to the high you desire, your hand is ripped away.

There is a sudden weight on your back as Hoseok whispers in your ear, “That’s my job, sweetheart.”

His fingers find your sensitive nub and you come immediately, screaming a string of curses into your arms in hopes that no one hears you. As you ride your high, you feel him pull out. With a groan, his cum spills all over your ass.

As you try to catch your breath and calm your erratic heart, you feel Hoseok pull his shorts back up and take a step back. All of the sudden, a strange feeling builds up in your chest. Is this what loss feels like? But you don’t have much time to dwell on your own thoughts because you feel a towel wiping your body.

You turn and see Hoseok cleaning the mess he made; but instead of looking down, he’s looking right at you.

“What?” you ask, sounding defensive.

“Nothing,” he says, and you hate that you can’t read people well. You wish you could know what he’s thinking right now.

After he cleans between your thighs, you pull your clothes back up your body. You still have a few hours left of your shift, so you hope you don’t look too much like a mess right now. Pulling your hair into a low ponytail, you feel awkwardness hit you like a truck. What are you supposed to say now?

“Uh…I have to go,” you can’t even look at him. “We have a meeting this afternoon…”

You don’t have a meeting, but you don’t know what else to say. But unlike you, Hoseok can take a hint and nods. “I’ll leave first…see you around…and thanks.”

He stares at you for a moment longer before leaving the room. You look out to make sure he’s a considerable distance away before you follow, ducking into the bathroom to check your appearance. Once you look into the mirror, you barely recognize the person you’re seeing.

The girl in front of you has flushed cheeks and sweaty hair.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what happened. In all honesty, your body aches in the best possible way. And even after your shift, once you get home and lay in your bed, you’re still thinking about everything.

Did you really willingly have sex with Jung Hoseok a second time? Once is a mistake, twice clearly means there was choice involved. What would your roomie say if she knew? You don’t plan on telling her—at least, not until you get back to school. If she knew you had succumbed to his charms this early in the summer, she’d chew you out for sure. Besides, you won’t let it happen again.

There will be no more slip ups this summer.

***

“Oh, fuck—yes. Right there…!”

You cling to the shelf as Hoseok fucks you from behind. Your legs feel impossibly weak from being in such an uncomfortable position, but you couldn’t care less right now—you just want to come.

“Don’t be so loud, sweetheart,” he groans through clenched teeth. “Don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

“N-No…but if you d-don’t make me c-come quicker, Hoseok…” you moan, and he proceeds to thrust faster. You don’t want to scream, but it just feels so fucking good for you not to. “I’m going to—”

Hoseok clamps a hand over your mouth as you come undone. Your eyes shut on their own accord as you scream into his hand, body shaking from the impact of your orgasm. He curses, probably from how tight you’re gripping his cock, but continues to thrust a few more times before pulling out and painting you in strings of milky white.

Once your body shops shaking, he pulls you up and presses a kiss onto your exposed shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Thanks.”

The two of you quickly clean up and readjust your clothes. You’re supposed to be organizing after all—at the place you are working at for the summer—not fucking an old high school classmate. Hoseok leaves with a promise of finding you later, and you’re left alone with your thoughts again.

What just happened?

You really did mean it when you said that you didn’t want to have sex with Hoseok again, but here you are anyway. It’s already been a month since the first incident, and you’ve been sneaking quickies around the entire country club with Hoseok.

Every time you think you’re alone, he manages to find you and that infuriating smirk makes you helpless. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s already managed to make your panties drop. But even though he seeks you out for sex, every now and then he sticks around to have a conversation with you.

You feel your resolve crumbling away every time you get a glimpse of the human Hoseok.

“So, what are you studying in school?” he asked one day, settling beside you on the floor of the laundry room.

“Is it bad that I’m undecided?” You tried to laugh it off, but the sober expression on his face stopped you.

He shook his head. “No, you have time.”

And just like, all felt okay in the world.

“What about you?” you managed to ask.

The scrunch of his nose had been nearly undetectable, but you noticed it. “Business. My father wants me to take over the company one day.”

“And you don’t?” the question slipped past your lips without a second thought. You’d been horrified.

“I don’t mind business, but I don’t want my father’s. I’d rather start my own.”

This truth had been rather insightful, and you couldn’t help but change the way you looked at Hoseok—only a little though. You still thought he was an asshole.

After another moment pondering your idiocy, you go back to whatever you were doing before. Just as you place the last shampoo bottle on the rack, a knock sounds on the door. You jump, wondering if it’s Hoseok again; but when it opens, it’s just Soyoung. “Hey—you’ve been in here for a while. Almost done?”

If only she knew.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, just finished,” you try to smile. “Got a little distracted in here, I guess.” A little more than distracted.

Soyoung offers an understanding expression. “Feel that. These storage rooms can be a bit overwhelming.”

“Did you need something?” you ask, changing the conversation.

“I actually bring word from our manager. You don’t work tomorrow night, right?” Tomorrow is Saturday and one of the few days you actually have off this week. You’re dreading what Soyoung is about to tell you. “She asked if you could come in for a few hours—just to help with dinner. They’re expecting a big crowd tomorrow night since there’s a fundraiser happening during the day. It’ll be like three hours max.”

You think about it for a moment, rolling your lips between your teeth. Honestly, you don’t want to come in on your day off—who wants to work when they don’t have to—but three hours doesn’t sound so bad.

“Just three hours?”

Soyoung nods. “Just three hours. I’ll be helping with the dinner too, so we’ll get to work together. And afterwards, we can go to a party, if you want.”

That piques your interest, even though you aren’t one to go out often. “What party?”

“There’s a few houses on this property—they’re rented out to people who want to stay at the country club for an extended amount of time. And I heard from some of the other employees that a party is being hosted at one of the houses. Anyone and everyone is invited—even us.”

For some reason, you actually want to go to this party. Why? Maybe you just want to forget about Jung Hoseok’s charismatic smirk. A party should be a good distraction. So, you tell Soyoung that you’ll come work tomorrow and attend the party with her.

And the girl gives you hug, promising that it’ll be loads of fun.

You hope she’s right.

***

The next night, you arrive to work in a different version of your uniform. Instead of the usual polo and shorts the country club has you normally donned in, you’re wearing a long sleeve button up and black slacks. In your bag, you brought a change of clothes for later. Thankfully, you remembered to grab it on your way out. Imagine having to wear your server uniform to a party.

That would’ve been a social suicide.

You meet up with Soyoung for a few minutes before the dinner staff collects you all together. They debrief about tonight’s expectations and everyone’s roles. Next, they list all the jobs and when they call your name, you find out you’re going to be taking orders.

“Do I also need to bring the food out?” you ask.

One of the leaders shakes their head. “No, we’ll have people specifically there for that.”

After all the roles are established, dinner officially begins and you try not to look dumbstruck when you walk into the formal dining hall. This is the first time you’ve been in this room and it’s absolutely magnificent. You continue staring around for a moment before walking towards your section of the room—a row of tables by the window overlooking the setting sun.

You proceed taking orders from the first table—a family of four—and then the next—a group of six—before walking to a table that only seats two people. Probably a date. You barely look at the couple as you push a strand of loose hair behind your ear and pull out the notepad.

“Can I take your orders?” you ask, click your pen.

“Yes,” says a nasally voice to your right. You follow it, meeting the profile of a gorgeous girl. Long, silky hair drapes down her back in waterfalls and she’s wearing a tight pink dress. You think that she’ll turn her attention to you, but she doesn’t; she keeps staring at her date. “I’ll have the ratatouille. What about you, Hobi?”

Hobi? “I told you not to call me that, Nina.”

She pouts. “But you let me call you that when we were kids.”

“Yeah, we were kids then.”

You spare a look at Nina’s date and nearly falter when you realize who this Hobi is. It’s none other than Jung Hoseok himself. He’s wearing a fitted charcoal suit, hair slicked back slightly. Even from this view, you can tell his suit is expensive; definitely imported and tailored fitted to his body. Still, you can feel yourself salivating. The man looks like absolute sin, and you feel a sudden flash of jealousy because he’s on a date with someone else—someone he seems to know pretty well.

But you realize you have no right to feel that emotion at all. He’s not yours to have. You both just happen to be sexually compatible. That is all. You two never talked about being exclusive. He is allowed to see other girls, even though the thought makes you feel a little sick.

Hoseok brings his eyes to yours, flashing you a smirk that has your knees weak. “Y/n.”

“You two know each other?” Nina asks, but your eyes don’t move from his.

“A little,” he says. That’s an understatement.

“We just went to high school together,” you add, playing along with his little game. “We weren’t friends though, just happened to be in a few classes together.”

Hoseok feigns hurt, bringing a hand up to his chest. “Can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“Oh, Hobi,” Nina interjects, her hand finding his on top of the table. You zone in on the touch, blood pressure rising when you realize he hasn’t pushed her away.

You try not to roll your eyes. “Yes, poor Hobi.”

When you turn back to him, he’s already looking at you. You stiffen for a second, wondering if his eyes have been on you this whole time. And by the scathing sensation you feel on the side of your head—Nina’s eyes, no doubt—you realize he probably has. “Um. Anyway, what did you want?”

He smirks again. “I’ll have the same, y/n.”

You quickly jot it down and excuse yourself before you start thinking too much.

The rest of your short shift, you make sure not to walk by Hoseok’s table again. Whenever you’re around him, you can’t think properly. He always seems to cloud your best judgment, which is why you’ve already been fucking him this summer. You allow work to consume you, which makes the time fly by. Before you know it, the three hours is already up and you’re headed to the bathroom with Soyoung.

“See? Wasn’t that bad, huh?” she asks from the cubicle beside you.

It was terrible. “Could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“I’m so excited about the party,” Soyoung changes the conversation. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a night out.”

You can’t help the next words that bubble out of you. “Why do you overwork yourself?”

Honestly, you didn’t mean to ask. After all, it isn’t your business to ask such questions anyway. Sure, you were curious about Soyoung but it’s not your place. You’ve been really testing boundaries recently.

“It just kind of happens,” she answers, which shocks you. Not the answer itself, but the fact that she even answered you at all. “I’ve been working here for so long, I guess I just can’t help it.”

“Well,” you sigh, “don’t overwork yourself. Live a little, you know.”

Soyoung laughs. “I’ll try.”

You step out of the stall first, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror. Tonight, you opted for a flowy crop top and tight skirt. Not something you’d usually wear, but tonight’s different than most nights—you want to enjoy yourself. You pull your hair out of its tight pony, humming in pleasure at the sensation of your hair being free.

“Okay, I see you with the sexy hair.”

You didn’t even hear Soyoung’s stall unlocking or opening. Turning in her direction, you see she’s wearing something similar to you. Only, both her top and skirt are flowy. “More like messy hair.”

She laughs. “It looks good still.”

After running a hand through your hair a few times, and fixing your makeup, the two of you throw your bags into your respective vehicles and walk across the country club’s property. Not even five minutes later, you can hear music playing. Across the distance, you can see a massive house—no, villa—lit up with lights and people all over the place.

“Woah,” you breathe.

“Right?” Soyoung chuckles. “I told you this party was going to be it.”

“I thought you said it was going to be a house party.”

“It is?” She seems confused.

You shake your head. “Are all the houses on the country club property this big?”

Even in the dim lighting, you can see her nod. “I think so. Maybe not this big, but they’re all large enough to house multiple people.”

Damn. You wonder who’s renting this place for the summer. It’s huge, so there must be more than one person; maybe a family? Though, that seems odd since a party filled with young people is happening right now. However, you can’t even begin to fathom how much it costs to rent. How can anyone actually afford that?

But all thoughts of money fade when you actually reach the villa. You assume there’s mainly college-aged people here, though it’s difficult to tell age these days. Soyoung leads the way as you two maneuver past groups of people and into the villa itself. Once inside, you have to force yourself not to gawk at everything.

Grand doesn’t even begin to describe the interior. There’s so much to look at and before you can even begin to look at everything, Soyoung pulls you away. She finds the kitchen and hands you a drink from the cooler. You remove the lid and begin sipping, tasting the slight bitterness of alcohol on your tongue.

“So what do we do now?” You’re acting like such a noob.

Soyoung slants a look at you. “We mingle, maybe dance a little. Do you like dancing?”

You bite the inside of your lip. “Umm, kind of?”

Of course, you’ve been to your fair share of college parties—where dancing and drinking do not mix well. But you don’t mind it; you just don’t think you’re very good. You voice this thought out loud and Soyoung rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to be good at dancing. You just have to do it. Usually, it comes naturally.”

You aren’t too sure about that statement. But as Soyoung pulls you in a new direction, away from the kitchen, you realize that you have no choice. In another large room adjacent to the kitchen, someone has started a makeshift dancefloor. The bass is booming against the wall and strobe lights illuminate the room.

Even though you’re struggling, Soyoung pulls you both into the middle of the room and spins you around to the music. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” she shouts over the music, proceeding to move her body dramatically. You can’t help but laugh. Shaking your head, you realize dancing really isn’t a big deal and you allow Soyoung to move you to the beat. And eventually, you can do it by yourself.

You close your eyes as you sway to the music, occasionally bumping into Soyoung on purpose. It even gets to the point where you feel comfortable enough to lift your arms into the air, which is something you’d never thought you’d do.

It’s not until a few songs later that you finally open your eyes. And when you do, you immediately meet his gaze.

A jolt of electricity goes up your spine at the look Jung Hoseok is giving you right now. He’s leaning against the fireplace in the room across from you, changed out of that expensive suit he was wearing earlier. Now, he’s only wearing the white button up—sleeves rolled to his elbows—and a pair of navy-blue shorts. In his hand he nurses a beer, and that’s when you realize he’s still with that girl from earlier.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you stare at them; but by the way Hoseok’s hard gaze morphs into something smugger, you know you’re doing a bad job at concealing your feelings.

Dammit.

You quickly whisper something to Soyoung about needing some air as you look for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, you don’t know your way around the house. You meander around for a moment before you find a door that leads to the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you open the door and walk into the cool summer night.

There’s a pathway of rocks that leads to the dock of a body of water—a body of water that you didn’t even know existed. You aren’t sure what to call it; a large pond? Whatever it is, you take the pathway until you reach the end of the dock. There, you settle on the edge and stare at the murky depths.

Bodies of water like this were unpredictable. You had no idea how deep it actually was. It could seem shallow, but in actuality be sixty feet deep. For a second, you consider dipping your toes in; however, you decide against it. Who knows what’s in there?

You allow the echoes of cicadas and other small insects to fill your senses. Eventually, you even lay down on the dock and close your eyes, trying not to think too much about—

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes flash open. And as they adjust to the night, you make out Hoseok’s infuriating perfect face. He’s leaning over you, and it pisses you off that he looks good even from this obscene angle. “Go away.”

“Well, aren’t you grumpy,” he hums. “It seemed like you were having a great time shaking you’re a—”

“Hoseok,” you breathe. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to play your stupid games right now.”

He cracks a rare half-smile. “Who said anything about playing games?”

When you don’t answer him, Hoseok’s smile falls and he frowns. You don’t care what else he has to say; you really meant it when you said you’re not in the mood for him right now. However, the boy doesn’t seem to take the hint like he usually does. Because he settles right beside you on the dock, laying down so he’s now eye-level with you.

“You’re insufferable,” you roll your eyes, shifting away from him.

“That’s what you like about me.”

“Who said I liked you?”

“I think your actions speak louder than you think,” he says, sounding awfully calm right now, which is very unlike him. You have no other choice but to look at him. And when you do, your breath gets caught in your throat. Even in the darkness, his eyes seem to sparkle as he looks at you—so fucking intently like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You don’t like it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you force your eyes away, but his stare burns your skin anyway.

“You were jealous at dinner, weren’t you?”

The scoff that leaves your lips sounds beyond bitter. “No, of course not. Why would I be?”

“If you were jealous,” Hoseok begins, which makes your stomach churn, “don’t be.”

“Huh?” you ask, still not able to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he repeats. “Don’t be jealous of Nina.”

“I wasn’t jealous of—”

He cuts you off. “Don’t be jealous of her. She’s just a family friend.”

“But you two seem so close…”

Hoseok laughs. “I just entertain her because our parents have been friends forever. I’m pretty sure they want me to marry someone like her. I mean, she’s hot”—you suck in a breath— “but she’s not you.”

Your eyes finally give him and meet his, and he’s still staring at you. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

As you both look at each other, you expect him to say something. But he never does. Instead, he scoots a few inches closer to you—so close your noses are almost touching—and runs his fingers through your hair. Weaving his digits through your still messy hair, he pulls your head towards his and your lips meet.

And underneath the moonlight, you allow Hoseok to kiss you until your head is dizzy and you have no choice but to let him consume you again.

***

The next morning, you find yourself wrapped in pristine white sheets that feel like silk beneath your fingers. But that’s not the only thing you’re wrapped in. A heavy arm is slumped over your waist and the body heat emanating from him sets yourself ablaze.

Last night, after Hoseok bruised your mouth and skin with his lips at the dock, you asked him why he was at the party.

“This is my house,” he said so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Well, my house for the summer at least.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

He nodded. “Our actual house is in the city, and I hate driving back and forth so much—especially since I’m here with the guys nearly every day. So, my parents decided to rent this.”

You didn’t know what to say. But you realized there was nothing that needed to be said because since this is where he was staying, it meant his bedroom was here too. You let him walk you back to the villa and up the stairs into his room, to which you had to text Soyoung and let her know you were headed home early. A lie. You told her you felt sick. Another lie. But she didn’t seem to mind. She had found a few other employees of the country club there and would walk back with them.

After losing track of how many orgasms he gave you, youth both shared a bottle of vodka he had stashed underneath his bed. And tipsy you had no inhibitions.

Every question Hoseok asked, you answered honestly.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Do you like working at the country club?”

“It’s a job.”

“If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

“Spend my life away on some island.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“Island life s-seems fun. It’s relaxing. You don’t have to worry about anything,” you slightly slurred your words. “You?”

“I think island life seems to be the move now.”

You both talked so much. About anything and everything. It reminded you so much of the first time you really spoke to him. Moments like this made Hoseok feel normal, which you don’t know how to feel about yet.

But one thing you realized you did enjoy was his laugh—his real laugh. Not the one he smirked with, but the one he gave when he thought no one else was watching.

You must’ve said something stupid—you honestly can’t recall it now—but when he doubled over in laughter, it was infectious.

The good thing is that you don’t have work today, which means you don’t have to rush anywhere. But you have a feeling that you’ve overstayed your welcome. You didn’t even mean to stay the night, but you’d been so comfortable in Hoseok’s bed that you fell asleep after all the conversations. It was probably the best sleep you’ve ever had.

You’re going to give the credit to Hoseok’s expensive mattress, and definitely not him.

Though, you can’t deny how good it feels to have him spooning you. A part of you wants to stay in this bed forever, but that’s crazy talk—you shouldn’t have come into the bed with him at all. You keep telling yourself—over and over again—that you don’t want to fuck him again.

But you’ve been such a liar.

Now, you’ve accepted the fact that you can’t resist him. You know it’s just sex, but you didn’t want to get involved with him in the first place.

You take in a few breaths as you try to move his arm off of you. Hoseok shifts a little, and you risk a look over your shoulder. When your eyes take in his face, your heart stutters for a moment. With his mouth slightly parted and eyes still firmly closed, you realize that he looks so peaceful asleep. So vulnerable. You have to force yourself from touching him.

What the fuck, y/n?

Turning back around, you gently pry his arm off of you and pray that you don’t wake him. But all your careful maneuvering proves to be futile because his arm releases from your grip and moves back down to your waist. With a squeal, Hoseok pulls you back on his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” God, his morning voice is so hot.

“Um, leaving?” you sound like an idiot.

“Stay,” he breathes against the back of your head.

You want to. You really, really want to. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks, snaking his arms underneath the covers to find you—skin still bare from last night’s activities. Your breath hitches as his fingers trail across your skin, each touch feeling like sparks.

“I-I have somewhere I have to be,” you stutter as his rough hand wraps around one of your breasts, squeezing tight. Your nipple hardens immediately.

Hoseok slips the covers off your body, exposing you to the cool air-conditioned room. And without warning, he moves on top of you and begins trailing his lips over your body. You notice that he makes sure to suck those bruises he left scattered across your skin extra hard, purpling them even more.

“Hoseok,” you try not to moan. “I really have t-to—”

His lips crashing onto yours shuts you up. You kiss him back forcefully, nipping his lips with your teeth and running your tongue across his. As you two battle it out, he settles in-between your thighs. Bringing a hand down your abdomen, it slides straight to your cunt—which is already drenched.

He hisses against your lips. “So fucking wet. Thought you had to go?”

“Shut up,” you moan as he runs a finger from your ass to your clit, swirling your juices everywhere. Involuntarily, your hips buck up when he slides a finger inside of you. He gently fucks you like that for a moment, leaving you writhing underneath him. “More, Hoseok—I need more.”

A wicked smile erupts on his face. “Are you going to beg for it?”

An incredulous expression lights your face. You’ve never begged in bed before, and you aren’t going to start now. However, the man on top of you is sure getting a kick out of this. Hoseok moves his finger slowly out of you, which agitates you to no end. If you weren’t so horny right now, you’d kill him.

“No,” you narrow your eyes, not willing to give in.

His finger stops moving. “A shame, really.”

You freeze. “What the fuck, Jung Hoseok?”

“I’m not doing anything until you say please,” he smirks, moving his upper body away from you.

Even though you’re pissed, you can’t help but drink in the Adonis in front of you. Like you, Hoseok is completely naked. Your eyes rake his defined muscles and his thick cock that’s already unbelievably hard. He’s hard for you. The fact that you turn him on makes you feel good—too good.

“Fine,” you shrug, and his smirk falls. “Just get blue balls then.”

As his body goes slack for a moment, you use the opportunity to slip from the bed. But you don’t manage to get very far at all. You probably only take three steps before his arm wraps around you and pulls you back to the bed.

You fall on your back, and Hoseok pins your arms on either side to keep you from moving. Still, you squirm—heart drumming in your chest at the look on his face. His eyes have turned black, and he looks like he wants to devour you. “I’m not begging.”

“We’ll see about that.”

With your arms still pinned, Hoseok lowers his body and your legs spread on their own accord. Fuck you, body. The movement makes him chuckle darkly and he begins peppering kisses along your thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat, which turns into a gasp when he suddenly bites down on your flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to be painful.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you like it very much.

Hoseok continues alternating between kissing and biting your thighs until you’re one-hundred-percent positive there is a pool of your wetness on the bed. You know what he’s trying to do and it’s working, but you don’t want to give in. And then he’s so close to your pussy, not even an inch away. You can feel his breath fanning you there. If you just move your hips a little…

“Don’t even think about it,” he moves his head away.

You release a groan of frustration. “Oh my god.”

“If you just say the magic word,” he taunts, lips now on your stomach. He moves low, but never low enough; never where you want him to go.

When he moves up your body, pressing chaste kisses on your nipples before latching his lips on your neck, you release a breathy moan. Hoseok lets out a groan from the back of his throat, hands tightening around your wrists. Fuck, why are the noises he makes even attractive? “Hoseok…”

“Y/n,” he’s still sucking on your neck.

This position, you realize, aligns him perfectly with your body. Again, if you were able to move just a little bit…but Hoseok’s weighing you down with his body, not allowing you to move at all.

“Hoseok,” you say his name again, but he doesn’t respond—he just moves his lips to your ear, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there. And that’s when you crumble. You can’t take it anymore. “Please…please just fuck me already.”

Simultaneously, he curses into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Too perfect—the way he fills you up is too perfect.

You expect Hoseok to fuck you hard, hips slamming into you, but he doesn’t. His thrusts are slow, but the way he hits your cervix has you nearly in tears. Fuck. He releases the hold on your wrists to grip onto either side of your face. With lips ghosting over yours, you tangle your hands into his dark hair.

Your breaths mesh together as he continues to fuck you with slow, measured thrusts. You’ve grown accustomed to the rough way Hoseok likes to fuck; but for some reason, you love this so much more. It’s intimate and makes your chest tighten in a strange way but feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips again.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, rolling his hips in a way that has you arching off the bed. Yes.

“Just like t-that,” you say, slanting your mouth to mold against his again.

Your orgasm comes without warning; you moan into Hoseok’s mouth, gripping him closer to you and you ride your high. Through the haze of your earth-shattering orgasm, you hear Hoseok ask if he can come inside you. He’s always pulled out—even last night when he fucked you for hours. But right now you don’t care, and your answer comes in the form of your legs wrapping around his hips.

He kisses you hard and comes inside you a moment later. You’ve never let anyone else come raw inside of you; never trusted anyone else that much. And in that moment, a terrifying thought flashes across your mind.

I’m in love you.

The thought comes so suddenly, burns your brain so hotly, your body stills. Hoseok finally lifts off of you, eyes crinkling in concern. “You okay?”

You quickly try to shake the feeling away. “Um, yeah.”

“You sure? Should I not have come inside you?” he slips out of you, and for some reason you want to cry at the sudden emptiness you feel. “You’re looking pale right now.”

“No, it was fine,” you blink too fast, feeling tears begin to well in your eyes. Get a fucking grip on yourself. “I’m sorry, I really have to go.”

Hoseok doesn’t try to stop you this time when you move away from the bed. You find your clothes on the floor and slip everything back on without looking at him, even though you can feel his gaze on you the entire time. Not bothering to check your appearance, you grab your stuff and move towards his door.

“Y/n,” he calls your name, voice sounding strange, but you don’t want to look at him. If you look at him, you’re going to start crying. And that’s too embarrassing to explain.

You slip out of his bedroom and take the stairs two at a time. As you rush down, you run into someone. “Sorry—”

Looking up, you realize it’s Seokjin; he must’ve stayed the night. Even in your distress, you feel feverish wondering if you were too loud. However, he takes one look at you and stares like he has you all figured out. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Did something happen…?” he asks, looking at the door you just left wide open upstairs.

“Don’t worry about it,” you quickly say, adverting your eyes and sidestepping him.

This morning, it’s much easier to find the front door. Just as you’re about to slip out, you hear your name being called again, heavy steps thundering down the stairs. Shit, shit, shit. You break into a run and don’t stop until you have no more air to spare in your lungs. Thankfully, you’re far enough from the villa and close to the country club.

Only then do you allow yourself to fall into the grass as the tears finally cascade down your cheeks.

You’re a fool, you realize. A fool to have fallen in love with someone like Jung Hoseok. Someone who will never feel the same way. Someone who just uses you for a good time. someone who you barely even know. Someone you never wanted to get involved with.

***

You call out of work the next week, claiming to have the stomach bug. But you don’t have the stomach bug; in fact, you’re not even physically ill at all. You just can’t bear the thought of running into Hoseok at the country club.

On the first day, you listen to your sad girl hours playlist on repeat.

During your second day of moping in bed, you half consider quitting your job. Would it be too cowardly? Maybe. Unfortunately, there’s only a few weeks left of summer and you doubt that you’ll be able to find another job.

When the third day arrives, you finally get out of bed and take a proper shower. You didn’t realize how much you needed it.

Your mom knocks on your door on the fourth day. You only know it’s her by the way she taps on your door rhythmically; she’s always done that ever since you were a child. When you don’t respond, she dares to crack the door open. Shit, you forgot to lock it last night.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

You don’t move on the bed, hoping your mother thinks you’re asleep or something. But despite you not moving, she still shuffles into your room and settles herself on the edge of the bed.

“Is this because I haven’t been spending time with you this summer?”

No, mom. It’s me. I fucked up. Although, I would appreciate it if you did spend time with me—like you dragged me here this summer to do.

“I’m really sorry, love,” she whispers, getting up after a moment.

Once you’re sure she’s by the door, you finally open your mouth. “It’s not because of you. It’s…something else.”

You hear her grab onto the door, but she doesn’t say another word before leaving you all alone again.

On the fifth day, the bruises that littered your skin finally start fading. Glancing into the mirror of your bathroom, you run your fingers along the—now greenish-yellow—hickies he left on your neck. Goodness, there were so many. And annoyingly enough, you can still feel exactly where he had touched you—like his hands are still there right now.

Pulling your t-shirt down, you see more evidence of Hoseok’s assault on your chest. You have to stop yourself from looking at the rest of your body.

The sixth day you, finally, spend time pondering that terrifying thought you had about Hoseok. Are you actually in love with him? Do you even know what love feels like? What even is love? You’ve always been an overthinker, and these questions only make your head spin more. But after hours and hours of teetering the files of your brain, you do know one thing.

You like him.

You like Hoseok a lot.

It might not be love—perhaps that had been your sex-brain talking—but you were definitely starting to fall for him. You don’t know when or where the change happened, or maybe you’ve always liked him, but it feels good to finally admit the truth to yourself.

Now, the real challenge was if you would tell him.

Would it be worth it?

***

“Y/n, I seriously thought you’d quit!”

Soyoung is the first person you run into on your first day back. You just thank god it’s her and not someone else. You flash her a quick smile and greeting. “Hey.”

“What happened to you?” she asks, walking beside you down the hall.

“Stomach bug,” the lie passes surprisingly easily through your lips. Good thing you had enough time to practice saying those words out loud.

Soyoung makes a face. “That must’ve been awful, but I’m glad you’re well enough to be here.”

“Yeah, totally.”

She leaves you at the golf cart and you get into the seat with a sigh. Over the month and whatever weeks you’ve been here, driving the cart now feels like second nature. You no longer bump into displays or people.

As you drive around the green, you make a stop at every hole and offer the players drinks. At the beginning of summer, you’d been a little apprehensive about this job. However, it turns out, working as the drink cart girl isn’t half bad. The tips you make are worth being out in the scorching summer sun.

Towards the end of your round, you feel your nerves twist. You’re relieved that you haven’t seen Hoseok; then again, a part of you is worried. Why isn’t he here? He’s always here. Every single time you’ve driven on the range, he’s been here.

Where is he today?

Soon, you realize that you didn’t need to worry at all.

At the last hole, you see him—well, them. Hoseok, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jeongguk are together, like they always seem to be. Inseparable. For a second, you think about skipping them, but then you overhear their conversation.

“Damn, Hoseok,” Jeongguk whistles, leaning against his club, “this is the worst game you’ve ever played.”

“He played worse than Namjoon,” Seokjin snickers.

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“You lack coordination,” Seokjin explains to his friend, as if that was supposed to make the burn better. “And Hoseok usually always wins.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, he hasn’t played well all week,” Jeongguk twists his lips.

“Dude probably hasn’t had ass in a week,” Namjoon comments.

“I’m right fucking here, assholes.”

You finally allow your eyes to settle on the man of the hour. Like his friends have suggested, he does seem off today. Normally, the Jung Hoseok you know is easy going, laid back. He’s usually cocky and charismatic. Every time you’ve seen him play golf, he’s amazing. He always swings with blind sureness—like he knows the ball will hit green. But the man you’re looking at right now is beyond tense and agitated.

“You’re no fun today,” Jeongguk pouts.

“He hasn’t been fun all week,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Not since the house party.”

Your hands stiffen on wheel. Hoseok’s been in a mood for a whole week? You try to find the answer to your own question in his eyes, but he hasn’t looked in your direction yet. In fact, none of them seem to realize you’re close. They all seem to be thrown off their usual balance. That obvious fact makes you realize you should probably just skip them. But as you lift your foot to press the gas pedal, Seokjin notices you.

Damn. Why is he always the first one to see you?

His eyes widen at your appearance. “Just the girl I was thinking about.”

That statement draws everyone else from their stupor and towards you. You watch as Jeongguk and Namjoon’s eyes also widen, but the only pairs of eyes you really care about right now can’t even meet yours. Hoseok shoots you a glance before twisting away, jaw hardened. Ouch. You feel a pang in your chest.

For some reason, his dismissal hurts more than anything else right now.

“Glad you finally arrived,” Seokjin continues talking, walking closer to you. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

It was weird to have Seokjin speak so much to you. The only person you ever really spoke to was Hoseok, but it seems like he’s the last person who wants to talk to you right now. Maybe coming into work was a bad idea.

“I think you should talk to him,” he says, and it was your turn to have wide eyes.

“I don’t know…” What could you even say to him? You don’t know where to begin because you don’t know what kind of relationship you have with Hoseok. Did you want a relationship with him? Did he even feel the same way?

“He’s been a fucking wreck all week because of you, you know?”

Your chest hurts. “Really?”

Seokjin nods. “I mean, the guy’s always a pain in the ass…” he rolls his eyes, “but it’s worse now.”

Maybe you hadn’t been the only one suffering this past week. As horrible as it sounds, the thought makes you feel…hopeful.

“We’ll take your cart back and cover for you, if you want.”

You stare at Seokjin and find yourself nodding. “Okay.”

He calls Jeongguk and Namjoon over, asking you to get out of the cart. “Don’t worry—we won’t steal your money.”

It’s a joke. You know it’s a joke. Still, you can’t help the next that slip past your lips unconsciously. “Like you all need it.”

The three of them laugh at you as they pile into the cart. Before you can say anything else, they drive off—leaving you alone with the one person you’re most nervous to speak to. He’s still turned away from you, staring off into the distance. You will your heart to stop racing as you wipe your sweaty hands on the back of your shorts.

Calm down.

You take a deep breath before you decide it’s now or never. Deciding it is time, you take the tentative steps towards Hoseok and run a million different scenarios in your head. What’s the worst thing that can happen? He tells you to fuck off and never speak to him again?

Nausea settles into your throat at the idea.

By the time you run another worst-case-scenario into your head, you’re just a few steps behind him. Closer to him now, you feel like you’re going to burst at the seams. You stare at his disheveled hair—like he’s been running a hand through it all day—and stiff body. Despite his rigid posture, he’s still the most handsome person you’ve ever seen.

You don’t know long you stand there and stare at Hoseok, but you don’t jolt out of your daze until you hear his voice.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?”

“Oh, you’re—I mean, I—” you fumble with your words, nervously twitching your hands. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk.”

“It’s kind of hard to talk to someone who doesn’t even like me,” he says, finally turning to face you.

What? “Hoseok—”

“I know you hate me, so I won’t bother you again, if that’s what you wanted to talk about,” his voice is detached, and you realize you’ve never seen this side of him before. No wonder his friends were fed up with him. You would’ve been too. “Sorry if I annoyed you this summer.”

Without another word, he begins to walk away from you. What the hell is going on? You shake your head as you march up to him and grab onto his shirt. “Stop.”

“Y/n…”

“Hoseok, shut up!” You bring your eyes up to glare at him. “Just—just let me talk first, okay?”

His eyes are still cold, but you can see a bit of softness pool in them. “Fine.”

“You’re an idiot,” you breathe, dropping your fist and feeling something prick your vision. “I-I don’t hate you…I don’t hate you at all. And I don’t want you to stop bothering me. Yes, you’re annoying”—you feel him take a step away— “but I like it. I like you. I like you a lot, Hoseok. So much…I don’t even know—”

He stops your rambling with his lips. The kiss makes your heart soar and ache all at once because it feels so damn good—Hoseok feels so damn good. But it ends all too soon when he pulls away.

“I like you too.”

“Then why are you being so mean to me?” You feel an onslaught of tears flow down your cheeks.

Hoseok wipes a tear away with his thumb. “Because I thought you hated me.”

“Well, I don’t,” you sniffle.

“Then, why’d you leave?”

You know he’s talking about that morning. Do you tell him the truth? “Because I thought I was in love with you.”

“Love?” he chokes, and you feel a blush heat your face. “What made you think that?”

“Uh…it was just a sudden thought,” you awkwardly scratch the side of your face. “But I thought about it, and it’s not love…at least, not yet.”

You say that last part so quietly, you don’t think Hoseok even heard. However, the way his eyes gloss over for a moment lets you know that he did. You’re even more embarrassed now. You try to cover your face, but he grabs both of your hands before you can.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, yeah?” Look at him being the rational one here.

You nod, agreeing with him. “So, we like each other.”

“We do,” he says, suddenly pulling you closer to him. Your body hums being so close to him. Being close like this, you’re able to wrap your arms around him and does the same—hand moving to the back of your neck to tilt your head back. At this angle, you’re exposed to him.

“So, what are we?” you dared to ask the question.

Hoseok ghosts his lips over you. “I don’t like sharing.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I haven’t been with anyone else this summer.”

It’s the truth. You haven’t even looked twice at anyone else. You haven’t desired anyone else. You don’t think you ever can again. Jung Hoseok has ruined you.

“Me either.”

“You and Nina—”

“We’re just family friends, remember?” he cuts you off.

“She clearly likes you.”

“Well, she’s not you. I’ve told you that before.”

He did. And, for some reason, you believed him.

“So, what are we?” you ask again, looking up at Hoseok to gauge what he’s going to say. He stares down at you for a moment before that smirk you know all too well graces his lips. As irritating as it is, you’ve missed it.

“We’re dating,” his eyes sparkle, before dimming a little. “If you’ll have me.”

Warmth pools in your stomach as you nod. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[hallowxiu]

An Unlikely Reunion

pairing: human!mammon/demon!gn!mc

word count: 3.6k

summary: Having been separated from Mammon for the last several months, you head to the council room to meet the new exchange student. You probably should have expected this outcome.

a/n: sorry this update took so long. my sister was in town visiting for the holidays and just recently left. here’s the third part of the human!mammon & demon!mc series :)

part one | part two

It’s been a month since you’ve last seen Mammon. You were unsure if he had even noticed your swift disappearance, given you’d only ran into each other on three separate occasions. You’d be lying to yourself if you said the entire situation hadn’t bothered you. You were practically under house arrest for the last two or three months. Had it been longer than that? You stopped counting. 

You were still expected to do your chores and duties, but you were forbidden from traveling to other realms. Not that you had an urge to pop into the Celestial Realm, but even that was off-limits now too (you were pretty sure you weren’t allowed there in the first place). In other events, Lord Diavolo had recently approved of a new exchange program that would take place within the next few days. The Devildom would be hosting two human students, as well as two angels. You found it interesting, though you knew Lucifer was more than likely against it from the start. Still, you had found the idea of it ridiculous at first; humans were allowed to visit the Devildom and yet you were still in trouble for running off to the human realm? 

Belphegor did not take the news well when it first broke. Beelzebub had to pick the demon up and carry him back to their shared room before he destroyed the entire living room. He had been screaming and shouting until the door of their room quietly clicked shut. He kept it up, too, despite Lucifer warning him to drop the act. He made sure to remind Diavolo whenever he got the chance that he’d regret this decision and that nothing good ever came from the human race. You were honestly surprised that Lucifer never punished him, and you were even more surprised when it was revealed that Belphegor would be the demon traveling to the human realm as an exchange student. If you were being honest, you didn’t believe it at first. How did Lord Diavolo and Lucifer get him to agree to such a thing? Besides the youngest born holding a deep hatred for humans, he’d never been away from his twin, Beelzebub, for too long either. 

He was gone now; he left two days ago. You were hurt when you found out he left without a goodbye, and you knew Beelzebub shared your thoughts when you caught the expression on his face when Lucifer broke the news. Other than that, not much has happened since you last saw Mammon. 

With Belphegor taking his leave early, only two days remained before the exchange program would begin. Servants and demons alike had been bustling around the Devildom to make everything ready for the new students. This was a matter of war or not, as this could potentially bring peace between the three realms. You weren’t complaining; you liked the idea of not having war constantly looming over your head. 

“I wonder what kind of human Lord Diavolo ended up selecting for the program.” Asmodeus was painting his nails from where he lounged on the couch. You were sitting on the other end, scrolling through your D.D.D while listening to your brother gossip for the last several minutes. Since Belphegor left, Asmodeus had been insistent that the two of you spend more time together. You weren’t sure why he wanted the sudden attention from you, but if you had to guess you’d say he missed his baby brother. You thought it was cute. 

But of course, hanging out with Asmodeus doesn’t come without a price. For you, it was listening to endless gossip for hours on end. “Hopefully one that doesn’t start trouble wherever they go.” 

“That would make it interesting though, don’t you think? It’d be boring if they were like Lucifer or Satan, always following the rules.” 

“Satan doesn’t always follow the rules.” You commented and glanced over at the other. “At least when it comes to Lucifer, anyway.” 

“He might egg on the human if they cause trouble. Anything to annoy Lucifer.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he thinks over the endless possibilities. “I hope they’re cute. I haven’t slept with a human in a while.”

“Gross.” 

“What? I thought you of all demons would appreciate that statement.” You quirked an eyebrow at his comment, though you opted not to say anything. Sometimes it was better to let Asmodeus think he was in the right. You looked up from your spot on the couch upon hearing someone enter the room. A smile graced your lips when seeing that it was Beelzebub. 

“Did you come to keep us company?” To say the sixth born had been lonely since Belphegor left would be an understatement. He had trouble sleeping, keeping himself invested in conversations, and he even had some trouble eating. It made your chest feel lighter to see the demon out and about instead of sulking in his room. Had he spent another day locked away in his room, you would have dragged him out. Perhaps this was for the best that he was coming out willingly. 

“I did.” Was all the redhead commented. Asmodeus sat up to give him room, the larger demon sitting between the two of you. He brought snacks with him, settling them down on the coffee table. “Feel free to have some.” You and Asmodeus exchange looks with one another. It was unlike Beelzebub to share his food with anyone other than Belphegor. He must still be feeling the effects of the younger being away. “He hasn’t answered my texts yet.” There was a frown on his lips, almost resembling a child’s pout. 

“Remember what Lucifer said? It might take a couple of days for Belphie to get settled down. Plus, I’m sure he’s going through a lot emotionally right now. I’m sure he’ll answer once he’s feeling more comfortable.” You reassuringly rubbed the side of his arm and Asmodeus nodded in agreement. 

“Belphie would never ignore you. I think he’s physically incapable of it.” Asmodeus’ comment seemed to put him more at ease, his shoulders relaxing slightly. 

“And you know he’d never approve of you locking yourself away in your room. You’re not a hermit.” You gently chided your younger brother. 

“Your name isn’t Leviathan,” Asmodeus said with a grin and you leaned over to gently swat at his knee. 

“Be nice.” You warned lightly. 

You found yourself standing in the council room with Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, and the rest of your brothers excluding Belphegor. Today would be the day the exchange students were revealed. Though you hadn’t said it out loud, you were curious to see who the human would be and what they’d act like. There was a lot of secrecy surrounding the human, Lord Diavolo unwilling to spare any details, even with Lucifer. You had wondered why, but Lord Diavolo was a hard man to read. Whether it had any significant meaning or not, you didn’t know. You looked around the large room, trying to see if you could pick out an unfamiliar face. When you couldn’t, your eyebrows furrowed in visible confusion. “Where--”

Before you could finish your question, a flash of bright light filled the room, nearly blinding you and your brothers in the process. Over the next couple of seconds, the light’s intensity dwindled until the light was no longer there. Slowly blinking the light from your eyes, you see a human standing in the middle of the room, their back facing you. A snicker left Satan who stood behind you. 

“Welcome to the Devildom- oh.” There was a falter in Diavolo’s speech. “It seems we caught you at a bad time.” Laughter budded within your chest when seeing that the human was only dressed in a bath towel. Did they seriously give the human no warning before summoning them to the Devildom? Talk about unlucky. 

“What the- where the hell am I?” All the color drained from your face upon hearing that all too familiar voice. Oh no. Talk about unlucky. 

“Welcome to the Devildom, Mammon.” There was a slight flush to his cheeks as he spoke. You were sure he regretted his lack of proper planning now. You were secretly glad something finally came back to bite him in the ass. Of course, having said that, this was also coming back to bite you in the ass. “You look a little disorientated, but there’s no need to worry. You’ll adjust to the Devildom soon enough.”

“Or, hear me out, maybe I look disorientated because I was just steppin’ out of the damn shower, gettin’ ready for work, and then I found myself in some strange ass room surrounded by a group of men. I don’t know about ya, but that’s not the kinda work I do.” You silently put a hand to your mouth, fighting back laughter. Oh, this was most definitely not good. Of all humans to select, of course, Lord Diavolo picked Mammon, because why wouldn’t he? He did not know who he was speaking to, and even if he had, you weren’t sure that would have changed anything. 

Glancing behind you, you could tell Satan was already keen on the human. Mammon was doing a good job of flustering Lord Diavolo, and therefore getting underneath Lucifer’s skin. Looking to your left, you could tell Asmodeus was also keen on him, though that could simply be because he was only dressed in a towel. The strangest things always seemed to excite your brother. The rest of your brothers looked amused but other than that you couldn’t get a read on them. 

“Right, well I believe an introduction is in order, don’t you think?” Of course, he gave no time for Mammon to answer. He probably wouldn’t want to hear it, anyway. “My name is Lord Diavolo and I am the ruler of all demons, and all here know of me. And now, you do too.” There’s a smile on his face as he greeted Mammon. Although you couldn’t see his face yourself, you doubt he’s impressed. “And someday soon, I will be crowned the King of the Devildom.”

“What am I supposed to do with this information?” 

“We’re currently in the council room of the Royal Academy of Diavolo, but we call it RAD for short,” he didn’t answer him, which was probably the smart thing to do, “this is the building where you’ll be taking all of your classes.” 

“Why am I here?” There’s an exhausted tone to Mammon’s voice. 

“I will be more than willing to explain everything to you.” Lucifer stepped in, a chilling smile on his face and Mammon instinctively took a step back. “My name is Lucifer and I’m the Avatar of Pride.” 

“He’s also the vice president of the council and my right-hand man! I’d even go as far as saying that we’re best friends.” You watched as Lucifer’s eyes narrowed at Diavolo’s interjection. “We tell each other everything.” Satan snickered again and you have a hard time keeping the grin off your face. 

“Lord Diavolo, please.” There’s an exasperated look on his face before addressing Mammon once again. 

“What the actual fuck is goin’ on?” Mammon’s rubbing at his temples in frustration. “Lucifer? Like, the devil? Oh god, I must have slipped while gettin’ out of the shower and cracked my skull open or somethin’. I bet I’m bleedin’ out on my floor as we speak.”

If you were being honest, you zoned out for almost the entirety of Lucifer’s speech as he caught Mammon up with everything. You were too distracted by the sound of your blood pulsing in your ears. You were staring at Mammon’s back, with such an intensity that Asmodeus cleared his throat from beside you. You didn’t mind; you were too busy trying to think of a way out of this. What would Mammon do the moment he turns around and sees you? Would he make a scene? Call you out by name? Lucifer wanted the human you spent your time with dead; what would he do if he found out that human was Mammon? 

Your attention was quickly brought back to reality when you realized Lucifer was introducing everyone. Unfortunately for you, you had never been a great actor, and lying was not your strong suit. You watched in silent horror as Lucifer began to introduce your brothers in no particular order, before landing on you. You felt the sweat beading on your forehead as you locked eyes with Mammon from across the room. His eyes widened dramatically, and you suddenly found yourself praying that he would not make a fool of himself in front of everyone. Your mouth ran dry as you could only stare in return. You were speechless, unable to form a coherent sentence. 

Thankfully you didn’t need to, as Lucifer was speaking once again. “You can pick which one of us you’d like to watch over you during your stay here. You should feel honored, usually, we would just assign you to someone without you even getting a say in the matter. I would recommend myself or even--”

“You.” Mammon’s pointing at you before Lucifer could finish his sentence. “I want you to watch over me.” The room grew silent during the exchange between the two of you. You were sure everyone was suspicious now; why wouldn’t they be? What human is so eager to pick from a batch of demons he’s never met before? If he never met you, he wouldn’t have chosen so quickly, and he wouldn’t have cut off Lucifer to do so, and he most certainly wouldn’t have--

“Very well then.” Lord Diavolo was smiling as he looked over the room. “Mammon, I’m sure you’ll find yourself in good hands. An excellent pick of a demon, second only to Lucifer. While they can stir up a bit of trouble from time to time, I think you’ll find yourself relatively safe by their side for the most part.” Relatively safe? And for the most part? Gee, thanks, you think to yourself with narrowed eyes. 

As soon as Lord Diavolo called the meeting to a close, you darted out of there with Mammon. He struggled to keep up with your pace, though he managed for the most part. Most of the brothers assumed your odd behavior was simply because you didn’t want to bother looking out for a human and you were secretly glad that’s what they thought. “You need to be more careful when speaking to Lord Diavolo.” You said as the two of you headed back to the House of Lamentation. Mammon was stomping around in only a towel. It was almost comical if you weren’t so terrified of the outcome of the exchange program. “Lucifer will wring your neck if you disrespect him.” Mammon only huffed in response. 

“Ya have some explainin’ to do, demon.” 

“I know.” A sigh left you as your head started to throb from the conversation that had yet to begin. 

“Like why ya just upped and disappeared and shit, then I turn around and find ya in some weird shady place.” 

“The council room is hardly a shady place.” 

“Are ya bein’ for real?” He gave you an unconvinced look. “Although I guess now it makes sense how you were able to scare those thugs off. Some demonic shit or somethin’.” 

“You have to stop swearing so much. Lucifer will get annoyed.” You ran a hand over your face to smoothen out your features. Oh, this would be a long, long year. 

“Lucifer this, Lucifer that. Is all ya ever think about Lucifer?”

“The man who can and will rip my head off for misbehaving? Yes. And I’m already on thin ice with him. He got super pissed when he found out I snuck off to the human realm again. I’m surprised I’m not wearing a house arrest bracelet right now.” You make a point of keeping Mammon by your side, lest he wanders off and gets eaten by a demon. 

“So that’s the reason ya didn’t come back?” You glanced back at him, confused as to why he was asking.

“Yeah. I wasn’t allowed to. He even went as far as going to Lord Diavolo to make sure I don’t travel anywhere.” You didn’t feel too comfortable airing out all your problems with Lucifer to Mammon. Call yourself crazy, but he didn’t exactly give you vibes that he was great with secrets. Lucifer finding out you were unhappy with him through a human? Yeah, that wouldn’t be a fun day for any of you. 

“I still think I’m dreamin’ this all up. That, or I really did fall while gettin’ out of the shower and cracked my head wide open.” 

“I can assure you that you are neither dreaming nor bleeding out in your shitty apartment bathroom.” There was a grin on your lips as you spoke. “Now, walk faster. We need to get back to my house before a demon sweeps you up and runs away. You’re literally parading around in a towel; you might as well be serving yourself on a silver platter.”

“It’s not like it was in my control.” 

“Still, we should hurry. Your soul is practically glowing.” 

“Ya still have explainin’ to do.”

“Are you serious?” You grabbed him by the arm to quicken his pace. “I already told you. I snuck to the human realm, met you on accident, ran into you on the street, then again at the cafe, and then a third time at night.”

“Makes ya sound like a stalker.” There’s a sly grin on his lips and you feel your eye twitch.

“I’m not a stalker. They were all coincidences. Like I’d go out of my way to find you. Don’t get cocky, you’re only a human after all.” A chill settles over you. Okay, maybe you had gone out of your way once or twice, but he didn’t need to know that. “Besides, it happens all the time. I’ve lived hundreds and hundreds of years. You think you’re the only human I’ve ever bumped into on the street?”

“No,” there’s a thoughtful look on his face as he gripped his towel with his free hand to keep it from falling, “but I bet I’m the only human you’ve ever gone out of your way to save.” Your eyes narrowed and you huff quietly. 

“Hey, don’t go spreading that around. You’ll ruin my reputation, you know.” To this, you only hear a quiet chuckle from Mammon. 

With the two of you standing outside the House of Lamentation, you dug for your keys in your pocket. Mammon shifted uncomfortably behind you. “Would ya mind hurryin’ it up? Some of us are practically naked out here.” 

“Announce it louder; maybe another demon will take you off my hands.” You chuckled to yourself when hearing an annoyed sigh from behind you. “Be patient.” You scolded lightly as you went to unlock the door. With the turn of the key, the door opens to reveal the inside of the house. Mammon shuffles in nervously behind you, his eyes anxiously taking everything in.

“Sure is, uh, roomy.” 

“You’re back.” Mammon nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Lucifer. He quickly moved behind you, anxiously peering over your shoulder. 

“Yes, well, it turns out Mammon is quite the slow walker.” You ignored the look on Lucifer’s face and gave Mammon a reassuring smile. “Well? Let’s go; you want to see your room, don’t you? You’ll be given a change of clothes there.” 

“Say no more.” Mammon’s hurrying down the hall before you can say anything else, leaving you and Lucifer alone for the moment. 

“It seems friendly with you.” His tone is accusatory, and while you have an idea of what he’s implying, you try not to let it show on your face. Sometimes, playing dumb when around Lucifer was the best action to take. 

“I suppose.” You played it off. “I think the human is just nervous to be in the Devildom. Can you blame it?” You flinch at the usage of your own words. You didn’t like referring to Mammon that way, but it might make Lucifer less suspicious of you the more detached you sound. “Humans aren’t exactly meant for the Devildom, and it doesn’t help that Lord Diavolo summoned it in just a towel. Might as well stuff an apple in it’s mouth and put it on a plate.” Lucifer seemed to take your words into consideration before a sigh escaped his lips. 

“You may have a point.” You felt the tension begin to leave your body. “The human was quick to select you. You don’t find that odd?”

“I think you’re just intimidating.” 

“And you aren’t? You’re no less intimidating than the others. It could have picked anyone, yet it settled for you. I couldn’t even finish my sentence before you were selected. There also,” there’s a pause in Lucifer’s speech, as if he’s carefully forming a sentence in his mind, “never mind that. Just do your job and make sure a demon doesn’t pluck the human like a fruit hanging from a tree. We’ll be meeting the rest of the exchange students tomorrow, as well as attending classes, so make sure the two of you get enough rest tonight. I will not tolerate anyone skipping the first day of classes, nor will I excuse any tardiness.” 

And with that he’s gone, making his way back toward his office. A sigh of relief left you before you snapped out of your daze. “Shit,” you swore silently. Mammon didn’t know where his room was.

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (4)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: a curse word if you squint, sassy Draco

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: a day late bc i got distracted watching game of thrones lmao i have adhd so i honestly should've known better than to have something so attention demanding in front of me :P

(gif cred)

Three more days.

Three more days until your brother and his girlfriend come to your Buffalo suburban home to spend Thanksgiving. You came home from work on a better day than the ones from the week before, only to walk inside and was almost convinced you entered the wrong house.

Your mother took the liberty of decorating your house while you were gone. The place looked like an IKEA catalogue. Green and cream colored throw pillows were on your black leather couch, your small dining table had a fall-themed centerpiece and a blood orange table cloth. New dining chairs, all of them matched, unlike the mismatched ones you had before. And that god-forsaken ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ wooden sign hung in your kitchen. That damn thing is leaving first thing in the morning.

“Ma, what the hell did you do to my house?” The more you looked, you groaned at what you saw. Your grandmother’s tapestry was no longer hanging at its original place, now hung hidden behind the tv. “Oh, don’t give me any grief about it. Y/B/N is coming and I don’t want the place looking like the Spirit store.”

You knew you couldn't really fight her on this. It would be more frustrating to have to argue and still not be able to put everything back to how it was until she left. Taking a deep breath, you walked yourself to your room to get changed into comfortable clothes and light some sage for your nerves.

Three more days.

—

One more week.

In a week's time, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott were to come to New York to spend the month of December with Draco and to say he was excited was an understatement.

He was excited, nervous, and many other feelings that he was too stressed to name. The guest room was prepared for the two of them to share, all he had to do was figure out what to do with them while they were here. He had taken a week off and had no idea what to do. He still hadn’t gone around the city he lived in. He could always ask his friends at Saint Marie but for some reason, he was too shy to.

He could always ask Mrs. Charles for recommendations on what to do. She was a sweet muggle neighbor that he came to like as well as her husband. He could also ask you, but it’s been over a week since he spoke to you in your yards. From glimpses into your window, you seemed so exhausted. Not that he really cared, but he remembered that you would try to get along better and so far, all he’s done was give a nod towards your direction when he walked into his home as you were leaving yours.

His bedroom blinds were always closed now because he knew that if he were to see you doing your… whatever you do in your room just once, he’d change his mind about the whole thing. It still bothered him, but not as bad as it did when he first saw it.

Draco’s stomach growled as he sat on his couch, bringing him out of his thoughts and walked over to the kitchen. To his despair, his pantry, cabinets, and fridge were all empty. Guess I’ll have to grab something. He pondered on what he was in the mood for as he ran out the door. Draco figured he'd just figure it out as he drove around the streets downtown.

Since moving to America, he found so many new cuisines than he had ever imagined. He usually always ate at home, and if his family ever ate outside of home they usually went to the finest restaurants in France. Of course, they were all wizard-owned restaurants. But in New York, he’s been introduced to new things. For one, he had his first ever hamburger with Blaine. Ashley took him to a Chinese restaurant, and Ian bought Draco a traditional New York pizza.

Yes, all these things existed in London. Maybe not so much New York-style pizza, but there was pizza. Draco, however, never had the opportunity to try any of these foods. Lucius was extremely strict about eating out. It was never necessary considering he could afford the best quality foods to be made at home. When they did eat at restaurants in France, it was only because a higher official at the Ministry had invited them for a night out.

Around the streets, the bright lights of buildings and restaurants lit the streets as he drove around them. Draco turned into a street he hadn’t been into yet in hopes to find something else he could find to try. There were a couple places he hadn’t been into; a Greek restaurant, a Brazillian one, and a couple shops. There was one shop close to the end of the street. It was sandwiched between two boutiques and had a neon green and purple sign in the front. Soul Beads. In front of the building was a man with a weird sign in one hand and an even weirder thing that seemed to have made his voice louder in the other. Draco couldn’t make of the rubbish he was yelling into the thing from inside his car.

Draco pulled to the curb to walk around the street and check out the restaurants. A bell jingle caught his attention, turning around to see one person he didn’t really expect to see here. “Draco?” your face showed the same expression as his. He watched as you closed the door to Soul Beads and walked up to him. The weird man that stood in front of the store yelled out, “DON’T TALK TO HER, THIS BITCH HERE WORKS FOR THE DEVIL!”

“Do you know him?” Draco asks with a quirked eyebrow. The stranger kept yelling profanities at you but Draco saw how you couldn’t be bothered by it. “He does this every couple weeks. What brings you out here?” Your hands were stuffed tightly in your pockets for warmth.

“Do you own the street? Can I not be here?” he asked sarcastically. You faced him with a deadpan look as to ask him again without having to say the words to him. Or call him a smartass. Which he is. With a roll of his eyes, he continued, “I’m looking for something to eat but I’ve never been to these places before.”

“Ah,” you started, “Well I don’t know what kind of stuff you’re used to, but I suggest the Greek restaurant right across. Over-priced, but the best gyros you’ll ever have in Buffalo.”

“It’s yee-roh, not jahy-row.” Draco corrected. He couldn’t tell if you were irritated or confused after he said that. Probably both.

“You know Greek?” you asked.

“I studied it when I was a child. My tutor showed me the word once and hit my hand when I had mispronounced it. Learned the hard way to never do that again,” flashbacks to the older woman teaching him the language cursed his mind for a few seconds.

His stomach growled even louder now in the silence between them. Draco blushed in embarrassment, shifting around to look away so you wouldn’t see. You slightly chuckled and tapped his shoulder. “Come on, neighbor’s treat.” And you walked onto the busy street.

This bloody woman is crazy to be crossing a busy street he thought as he rushed to follow you across the street. He got scared as a car got too close and ran to the safety of the sidewalk. “You’re gonna get yourself bloody killed one of these days like that,” he scolded. “If you’re gonna live in New York, you’re gonna have to deal with annoying pedestrians and sometimes be an annoying pedestrian. Be glad you don’t live in Manhattan, they’re worse. A person could be hit by a car and he’d just get on up and keep walking.” you informed.

Draco would be lying to himself if he said that didn’t spook him a little. Sure, he’s seen a few students get hexed, some by him, but they’d never just dealt with it and continued walking in the halls. They’d either have to hope their friends knew the counter curse or they’d end up in the hospital wing and had Madam Pomfrey help them back to normal. These muggles really are just… strange.

The restaurant looked old and desperately needed a remodel but by Merlin, it smelled amazing. “Now, are you getting a yee-roh sandwich or are you getting something else?” you mocked his previous correction with a playful roll of your eyes. Draco looked at the menu but it didn’t matter as he didn’t know the first thing about Greek food. What the hell did my father force me to take lessons for? “Do you want me to just order for you?” you asked as he kept browsing for too long. There were only 12 things on the menu but it still confused him.

He held back a snarl as he agreed to your help. He stood aside as you ordered and waited until it sounded like you were done, then headed up to the window to pay. “Oh, you don’t have to. I insisted I would pay,” you tried to push his hand away and reach for your credit card but he proceeded to hand the money to the cashier. “It’s nothing.”

“Here or to-go?” the lady asked with a thick New York accent. The two of you just looked at each other waiting for someone to say something. “Do you want to just-”

“Eat it here?” He looked at the small space and saw only one unoccupied table by the window. One of two tables. No longer growling, his stomach was shaking nearly violently, indicating that he can’t wait any longer. It was a strange feeling to be starving. Never had he ever had to wait for food at Malfoy Manor nor at Hogwarts. Whether it was house elves or first years, someone always ran to get him food with a snap of his fingers. “Yeah, here’s fine.”

The lady handed your plates to you as he went to claim the small table before someone else did. He looked around the space with a slight disgusted look. It’s not that it was run by muggles, but just because the place looks so old and kind of dirty. Even the house elves at the Manor lived in better conditions. The corner he sat in made him feel slightly claustrophobic. How do they sit and enjoy anything like this?

You sat the food on the table and shook your jacket off on to the chair. Draco watched as you placed the plates as neatly in front of you both. He couldn’t help but notice the rings that covered most of your fingers. Some were simple silver bands, some bronze bands, and some looked like wire that had a wrapped, colorful rock in the center. They were mismatched but coordinated at the same time. If that made any actual sense.

You started some simple small-talk, “So, what brings you all the way out here?”

“I got a better job opportunity,” Draco responded. His voice sounded uninterested, and his eyes stared at the plate. It had three pieces of meat on a bed of white rice, a small salad and a little dipping bowl of some white sauce. He dipped the meat into the sauce and as he tasted it, he nearly groaned in content. The flavors danced around his mouth and he had to hold himself back from devouring the whole plate in a matter of seconds.

He could feel you staring at him but chose not to look up to see judgement in your eyes. Whether it was with amusement or not. The food was so good and he would most definitely order another one to-go on his way out for his lunch break tomorrow. I’m definitely bringing Blaise and Theo here.

“What kind of job do you do?” Draco stopped chewing his food and swallowed nervously. He should’ve expected this kind of question sooner or later, but here he was sitting in silence trying to figure out what to say. He couldn’t just tell you that he’s a Healer because then that would lead to more questions and that’d be more answers he couldn’t give you. “What, you don’t wanna tell me?” you furrowed your eyebrows at him as he continued his silence.

Finally, the word popped in his mind, “I’m a doctor.” Hopefully that ends that conversation.

“That’s cool, what kind of doctor are you?” Shit. There’s more than one kind?

“Uh, I work with people who come into the hospital with major injuries like a broken arm and such,” Draco stuttered.

“So, an emergency room doctor. You work in the ER then,” you concluded with a hand over your mouth as you chewed. “Y-yeah, that.” Draco tried not to sound suspicious. “What about you?”

You cleared your throat, drank some of your soda and pointed out the window, “You see that store over there? Soul Beads? That’s my store.” It was weird how coincidental it was that of all streets to drive into and of all people to run into, he ran into you coming out of your personally owned store. Looking back at you, he saw your face relax and smile at the building. “What do you sell? I’m assuming it’s not food seeing as you didn’t invite me in.”

Now it was time for you to stutter, “Oh, just candles and stuff. Nothing too flashy.” You poked at your food and took small bites of it. There was an awkward silence between you two for about ten minutes before you started the conversation before, “Assuming you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, will you just be working that day?” Draco didn’t know much about the holiday, only that he was getting paid more that day.

“Yeah, I’ll be at the hospital for the night. Probably until four in the morning.”

“Well that sucks. You’ll miss out on the greatest American tradition that is Black Friday,” you chuckled.

“What’s that?” Yet another thing Draco didn’t understand.

“Black Friday is when people fight to the death for a discount on things like appliances and tvs. It’s quite amusing to watch,” you slightly exaggerated. Keyword slightly. Draco had wide eyes as he heard the description. “I’m sorry, to the death?”

With that, you laughed so hard you placed one hand flat against your chest and the other held the table with a tight grip as if you were to fall from your seat. He then realized you actually didn’t mean to the literal death and mentally scolded himself for being so gullible. You continued laughing and he rolled his eyes before chuckling to himself. You leaned back up and wiped some tears underneath your eyes, “Oh my god, I needed that laugh.”

A shiver went up Draco’s spine once he caught a glimpse of your smile. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you smile at all. Before your little argument, you would smile towards him and all the other neighbors all the time. But this never happened before. He looked away from your eyes and tried to find anything else to look at. Tilting his head up, he saw an air conditioning unit. Oh, that’s why.

Small talk ended there with a clear of his throat and proposed to go home. Draco saw how you looked a little disappointed and forced a small, kind smile on your face, “Yeah, it’s getting kinda late and I don’t want to keep my mother waiting. God knows what she’s done to my house while I was gone.” He wasn’t going to keep pressing on the matter as he figured they still weren’t close enough for that. One dinner didn’t make them friends in his book. It wasn’t terrible, though. Maybe he would do it again.

Walking to their own cars, she said “See you around, neighbor,” and got into her car and drove off. He just nodded his head as he always did and drove off as well. They arrived home at the same time and walked inside without looking at each other, thinking that it would just be weird to keep saying goodbye.

—

It was finally Thanksgiving, and Y/B/N and Stephanie were going to be over around three in the afternoon. Your mother was more of a pain than usual, waking you up at six in the morning to do last minute cleaning, grocery shopping, and starting on roasting the ham. The loud argument over ham or turkey in the grocery store the week before lasted for an embarrassing two hours after your mother caved and let you pick the main entree for dinner.

Once you got an hour to yourself, you went to your closet in the hall and grabbed a small glass jar then walked to your backyard for some lavender. You walked to the kitchen for a stick of cinnamon, placed the items on the kitchen counter and walked quickly to your room for something small. Your eyes found a loose ribbon on the floor and grabbed it then went back to the kitchen.

You put all the items into the jar and browsed the kitchen for one more thing. There was a bouquet of flowers on the dining table that your mother bought. Perfect. You grabbed a couple flowers and took the petals to mix in the jar. Once you were done, you chanted to yourself three times:

“Goddess, please take the negativity out of this kitchen.

Replace it with positivity and love. So mote it be.”

You heard your mother waking up from her nap from the guest room and ran into the kitchen to hide the jar somewhere she couldn’t see it. The spell can’t exactly work if she sees something to nag about. She walks in the kitchen and sees you looking suspicious.

She looks at you with squinted eyes - mainly because she had just woken up - but said, “I’m not gonna ask what you’re up to. Can you make the potato salad? I like the way you make it better.” You silently agreed as you looked for the things in the fridge and grabbed a large bowl to mix it in. Your mother walks up to one of the cabinets to grab a pot to boil the potatoes with, only to find the thing you tried to hide. “What’s this, honey?”

You stammered over your words trying to find an explanation before she cut you off, “It’s pretty with all the things in there. You should keep it out.” She placed it beside a photo on the countertop and walked away to fill the pot with water. You were surprised she didn’t ask any further questions. You continued cooking and had a hopeful smile on your face. Maybe it won’t be so bad tonight.

The doorbell rang and you both looked at the clock on the wall. It read 1:55 and you looked at each other in confusion. “Y/B/N must be early,” your mother guessed and went to the door to let him in. The greeting was loud as she greeted him in. You could hear your little brother’s laugh with enthusiasm as he walked into your kitchen, “What’s up, big sis?”

You placed the utensils down and ran up to him with your arms up, “I’ve missed you too, baby brother.” He was much taller than you as he picked you up and hugged you tightly. You slightly swung your legs to give him the signal to let you go. He got his height from your dad, leaving you short thanks to your mother. Your brother had a big smile on his face and you reciprocated the smile. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other.

“Oh, lemme introduce you. Steph, c’mere!” He looked over his shoulder and called for the special guest. A beautiful woman with long, chocolate brown hair and doe blue eyes walked next to Y/B/N. “It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Stephanie.” She held her hand out causing you to quickly wipe your hands on your apron. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Y/B/N has told me so much about you. I was so nervous to meet you,” Stephanie admitted with a slight blush on her cheeks. “I wonder what this dummy told you. I bet you I can tell you more embarrassing stories about him,” you jabbed his arm.

“That’s not fair, I didn’t say anything all that bad. You’ll hex me or some shit,” he had his hands up in defense.

“Y/B/N!” Your eyes widened and you laughed nervously, “Don’t listen to him, he’s an idiot.”

Stephanie looked back and forth at the two of you and finally settled on you, waving a hand, “Oh no, that’s okay. I practice, too.” Wait, what? It seemed your mother thought the same exact thing, only out loud. “Yeah, Stephanie also does the same thing you do. Crazy, right?”

Your mother stood shocked before them, not saying anything. Your brother had a smile that wasn’t exactly fitting the situation. Stephanie had a kind smile, and although you were visibly surprised that your little brother’s girlfriend was, of all things, also a Wiccan, you were laughing inside at your mother.

This is gonna be the most interesting Thanksgiving ever.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っ taglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla @fangirlanotherjust @originalsoulcollector @opiomancy @lipstickandloveletters @ninacotte @daedric-sorceress @frecklesandfirecrackers

[drowningbydegrees]

This is my @thewitchersecretsanta gift for @kat-atomic, who mentioned liking modern AU’s with witcher powers etc. and humor. I hope this delivers! Thank you so much @goodheavensgwen for betaing this! <3 Note: This is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

There are very few things Jaskier can genuinely say he enjoys about working the night shift at the diner. There’s the 3 a.m. rush of customers when all the bars close who usually tip pretty decently. There’s the fact that Triss, the night manager, doesn’t mind if he spends his downtime writing music when his sidework is done. And there’s the occasional regular Jaskier finds himself enamored with.

Like the one on the sidewalk just outside, for instance, who Jaskier privately suspects is some sort of cryptid. With good reason! He only ever seems to turn up in the quietest part of Jaskier’s shift. He doesn’t look old by any stretch of the imagination, and he doesn’t strike Jaskier as the sort to commit to any sort of high maintenance beauty regimen, all of which is at odds with the silvery white hair that falls just a touch past his shoulders. If the hair weren’t noteworthy enough, his unnaturally gold eyes are haunting, like nothing Jaskier has ever seen. Not that he means to look, mind you, but they’re the kind of thing that sticks with Jaskier long after the man is gone. Appearances aside, there’s something about this particular customer that discourages questions and he always pays with cash, so despite coming in on a somewhat regular basis over the last year and a half - not often enough that Jaskier can work out any sort of pattern, but enough that there’s a table Jaskier has more or less decided is his - Jaskier doesn’t even know his name.

The blood is new though.

“Holy mother of- Are you okay?” Jaskier asks when he looks up and sees the man trudging through the door. Is that a limp? It’s hard to tell if he’s hurt or just exhausted. It seems like maybe hurt because that’s definitely blood matting his hair. Probably. Jaskier vaguely remembers hitting his head on the slide when he was little and it looking a bit like that, anyway. And if that’s blood, it suggests that the substance making the guy’s shirt stick unnaturally to his body is also blood, which kinda tracks with the fact that one of the sleeves is ripped to shreds.

The guy freezes, leaving Jaskier with the distinct impression that he’d hoped to come in unnoticed. As much as Jaskier enjoys listening to his gravelly voice, there’s nothing comforting about the reply. “It’s not mine.”

“Right. Okay. That’s- That’s a completely normal and not concerning thing to say. Also, I’m going to go ahead and call bullshit because your arm is… umm. Oh fuck! Your arm. Just, uhh… hang on a sec, okay?” Jaskier rushes off to the kitchen for the diner’s first aid kit, a few bar towels, and, after a hurried explanation to Triss, one of the work uniform button down shirts. First aid isn’t something that was really covered in training, but leaving someone bleeding in the foyer is almost certainly some kind of health code violation. Whatever the case, not wanting his favorite customer to bleed to death in the middle of his shift wins out over entertaining the notion that said customer might possibly be dangerous.

The foyer is empty when Jaskier returns, which admittedly makes more sense than the guy having stayed put. He’s undeniably mysterious, but he doesn’t seem unhinged enough to just wander in here like that without some kind of reason. Jaskier pokes his head into the restroom, assuming the man has gone there and… isn’t wrong. It’s just that he’s also not in a state of dress Jaskier would expect in a public space. The tattered remains of his shirt sit in the sink, and without the fabric to hide it, the gashes at the back of his shoulder, just where it meets his arm, are rather prominent. Oddly, that quells any real concern Jaskier might have had about what events led him here because they look like claw marks rather than anything human. Equally prominent are a really quite alarming number of other scars that litter the man’s back and chest from what Jaskier can see in the mirror.

The man has never struck Jaskier as particularly polite. He speaks very little. He never smiles. He always looks vaguely put upon when Jaskier tries to be nice to him. So it’s strangely endearing to see that, despite Jaskier being pretty sure he communicated he’d be right back, the man still looks sort of surprised to see him. That surprise only grows more visible when he sees the supplies Jaskier is holding. “I thought you might want to get cleaned up.”

The look the man gives him, like he’s expecting some kind of catch, makes Jaskier’s chest ache. Honestly, who does he interact with that getting help when he’s clearly injured is… not the expectation? The guy offers a quiet thanks that is very, very at odds with the whole possible (but probably not) serial killer vibe he’s got going on at the moment when Jaskier sets the supplies on the counter and starts to head back for the door.

“Do you need me to call someone for you… uh, sorry, I don’t actually know your name,” Jaskier finds himself asking, not sure why he can’t bring himself to just leave.

In the mirror the man’s brows crinkle in confusion, or maybe exasperation and he shakes his head. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Jaskier asks, watching the man awkwardly try to balance a pad against his wounded shoulder and wrap gauze around it without nearly enough hands. “It kinda looks like those might need stitches.”

“I said no.” Definitely exasperation this time, probably at Jaskier, but maybe also at his current predicament. Tape would be better than the roll of gauze, but there isn’t any.

“Right. Okay…” The reasonable thing to do would be to go back to work and just leave the guy to it. It’s not his job. They don’t know each other. The guy’s insistence on not wanting him to call for assistance should probably be suspicious. But, Jaskier has never done the reasonable thing once in his entire life and he doesn’t intend to start now. If he can’t get the guy actual, maybe qualified assistance, he also can’t bring himself to walk away. “Can I help?”

The man shifts in obvious discomfort, but eventually he concedes with a terse nod. He silently holds the pad against his shoulder while Jaskier unrolls the gauze and tries very hard to keep his eyes mostly averted. It’s that or Jaskier is going to end up ogling the guy’s quite frankly gorgeous everything and this really doesn’t seem like the time for that.

“Geralt,” the man says sort of out of the blue as Jaskier winds the gauze around the injury. It startles Jaskier into looking up. “My name.”

“Oh!” Geralt. Jaskier repeats it in his head. It’s nice to finally have a name to go with Geralt’s unfairly pretty face. He’s being rude though, Jaskier realizes, and shakes his head and ties off the bandaging. “I’m Jaskier.”

“I know,” Geralt says softly, like it’s some sort of confession.

Right. Of course. He’s probably introduced himself a dozen times. But customers usually forget his name, so it makes Jaskier smile anyway.

“So… Geralt. I don’t want to pry or anything.” The way Geralt tenses, Jaskier is sorry for opening his mouth. But, contrary to what everyone else in his life seems to think, he is not entirely without a self-preservation instinct. He’s not blind to how weird this whole situation is, even though he’s pretty sure Geralt didn’t actually kill anyone. “Did something happen? You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you?”

“No.”

“Right.” It seems whatever strange set of circumstances made Geralt inclined to talk to him has passed. “Well, that’s illuminating.”

Geralt’s expression scrunches like he’s just bitten into a lemon. “It’s not important.”

Inexplicably, that hurts. Not for his own sake. Geralt has no reason to confide in Jaskier specifically. It’s just that it seems like Geralt’s default assumption that he won’t be trusted, coupled with literally everything else Jaskier has seen tonight, paints a sort of lonely, heartbreaking picture. Or, maybe that’s just Jaskier’s inner poet talking. He’s never entirely certain. All the same, he offers what he hopes is a friendly smile. “Suit yourself, but you should know if you don’t tell me, I’m going to make something up and it will be absolutely ridiculous.”

Geralt’s expression smoothes out into a careful sort of indifference. Jaskier is sort of tempted to linger, but there’s really no excuse, and the longer he stays, the more likely Jaskier is to say something that’s just going to embarrass them both. Reluctantly, he steps away. “Well, I’ll just, you know, leave you to it.”

***

By the time Jaskier comes back out into the dining room, Triss looks like she’d been about thirty seconds away from coming in to check on them herself. As he assures her that it’s not actually as bad as he’d first thought, and no she really doesn’t need to call an ambulance or anything, Jaskier finds himself very, very glad he had been in too much of a rush to share his initial concerns with her or he suspects this conversation would be going very differently.

But Triss lets things be, and Jaskier tries to get back to normal.

It’s very convenient, Jaskier thinks, that Geralt always orders the same thing. In retrospect, that might be because he’s some kind of world champion at avoiding conversation at all costs, but Jaskier assumes he’s just a creature of habit. Probably. Either way, Jaskier puts in an order and pours a cup of coffee, glad for something to busy himself with while he waits.

Much to Jaskier’s surprise, Geralt looks more or less himself when he emerges from the restroom. His hair is wet, probably from rinsing the mess out of it, but with long sleeves covering the gash Jaskier had patched up, only the slight unevenness in his step gives away that anything is wrong at all. That and the heavy sigh he breathes out when he finally sits down in the diner booth. Jaskier has heard that one before and wonders if Geralt makes a habit of coming in here when he’s hurting or if that sigh is just one born of exhaustion.

Geralt’s expression does a funny thing when he sees the coffee mug. It might be surprise, but Jaskier can’t think for the life of him why. “Thank you.”

It’s the same quiet, sort of reluctant tone Geralt had thanked him with earlier, and dear lord is no one ever just kind to him or something? Nevermind that this is literally Jaskier’s job. He wants to ask, but he can’t imagine the question going over well, so Jaskier leans against the side of the bench opposite Geralt and smiles, gesturing at the uniform shirt. “It’s a good look. You might have a real future here.”

By some miracle, that pulls what Jaskier thinks might be a smile from Geralt. It’s a small, subtle thing like Geralt isn’t quite certain how the expression fits on his face, and gone almost immediately, but it was there, if just for a second. “I’ll keep it in mind if I ever need a new line of work.”

“I mean, if my line of work tore up my wardrobe like that, I’d probably have noped out already,” Jaskier jokes.

“Hmm,” Geralt replies, staring resolutely into his coffee mug.

“So, I gotta ask,” Jaskier ventures when a few seconds pass and Geralt doesn’t glare at him for lingering. “Not that I mind, but there are like, a dozen places I’d be more apt to patch myself up than a diner bathroom.”

“Everything else is closed,” Geralt says from behind his mug, amber eyes briefly fluttering shut.

“Of course. That explains… Wait. That doesn’t explain anything. There’s literally a hospital two miles down the road. I’d probably-” Jaskier pauses when Geralt’s eyes crack open again, fixating on him. Something about it makes Jaskier far less certain of what he’s saying, and it comes out with a questioning sort of uptick at the end. “You know, try… there?”

“They don’t tend to be keen on my kind,” Geralt replies gruffly.

Jaskier has no idea what that means. “Uhh… uninsured?”

“A witcher.” Geralt glowers at Jaskier, but he says the word like it’s physically painful, a mouth full of broken glass.

Jaskier has never met a witcher, he’s pretty sure, but he’s heard the stories, same as everyone. Witchers are supposedly nearly as dangerous as the creatures they hunt, more monsters than men and never to be trusted. They’re not quiet and unobtrusive and startled by acts of kindness, surely. So, either Geralt is not what he seems or the stories are bullshit, and given the way this particular witcher looks like he’s braced for a blow, Jaskier is willing to bet it’s the latter.

Jaskier can’t help wanting to understand what kind of life Geralt must live that this is where he ends up in the small hours of the morning, injured and seemingly alone. It makes him privately furious, but somehow he doesn’t think the spectacle will be appreciated, even though it’s on Geralt’s behalf. Maybe especially because it’s on Geralt’s behalf, judging by the efforts the witcher goes to to be unobtrusive. So, Jaskier doesn’t say the first thing that comes to mind about how rotten humanity is. Instead, he says the second thing that comes to mind, which is equally unfortunate. “Well, that explains your eyes.”

Geralt’s expression goes stormy, and Jaskier only belatedly realizes he must have taken that as an insult. But about the time Jaskier opens his mouth to explain, Geralt seems to gather that he might have misunderstood. His brows crease as he looks at Jaskier, as if trying to puzzle something out. “What about them?”

“They’re beautiful,” Jaskier blurts out, which, oh that was not what he meant to say at all. Melting through the floor would be great about now. Or maybe disappearing entirely. Really, anything but standing here with Geralt staring at him like he’s grown a second head. Scrambling for an excuse to leave that won’t look like he’s running away - even though he definitely is - Jaskier forces a smile, taking a step backwards. “I’ll just… go get you some more coffee.”

Suddenly discovering his escaped sense of self-preservation, Jaskier doesn’t come back with coffee. His curiosity is tempered by embarrassment, so he stays away until Geralt’s order is up and he has an actual legitimate reason to drift back to the guy’s table. Jaskier does his best to straddle the line between friendly and professional as he sets down the plate. He has every intention of leaving Geralt to eat in peace, so Jaskier startles a little when Geralt speaks up before he can leave. “It was a basilisk.”

“A… like the ‘turn you into stone’ kind of basilisk?” Jaskier turns back and sort of wishes he hadn’t because Geralt looks rather sorry for having said anything.

“That’s just a myth. They don’t do that,” Geralt counters. Jaskier waits for him to expound on that further, but he doesn’t.

Jaskier has never seen a basilisk either, so it seems entirely natural to ask, “Then, what do they do?”

A funny thing happens. To Jaskier’s complete and utter surprise Geralt talks. Not in the teeth pulling miserable way he’s said most everything else, but like it’s a conversation he genuinely doesn’t mind having. Jaskier keeps half an eye on the door, but it’s Monday night, so it’s no great surprise that no one else comes in.

In the absence of other customers to tend to, Jaskier eventually just slides into the seat across from Geralt to listen. It’s not subject matter that Jaskier has ever considered, but it’s interesting if only for how it relates to Geralt. Huffing out a laugh, Jaskier cuts in. “To hear you tell it, people are as stupid and superstitious as they are… unkind. I suppose next thing you’ll be telling me is that vampires don’t actually burn up in the sunlight.”

Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs for definitely not the first time tonight. Honestly, Jaskier is coming to be just a bit fond of it. “They don’t.”

“Wait, really?”

Jaskier is thrilled to discover he doesn’t even have to press for details. Before he knows it, he’s learned more about vampires than he even thought there was to know. Along with fiends, leshens, and what might possibly be the entire list of contracts Geralt has taken in the last month. There’s a consistent thread through all of it that leaves Jaskier warm and maybe a bit embarrassed that he’d ever thought Geralt could be dangerous. “You don’t talk about them like they’re things you kill.”

“I don’t if I can help it. It’s not their fault humans sprawl out into the places they live.” Geralt thumbs at the handle of his coffee mug, staring at the contents that have long since gone cold.

Desperate to drive off the strange sense of melancholy creeping in, Jaskier grasps for some other direction he can steer the conversation. Hastily, he runs through what Geralt has talked about already, and gets a bit stuck on a concerning thought, given how often the witcher is here. “So, are there a lot of monsters around here?”

Crisis averted, Jaskier thinks. Geralt’s shoulders tense across the table, but at least he doesn’t seem sad anymore. “Not really.”

That really just brings more questions than it answers. “Oh, well that’s a relief, I guess. I’d hate to be out hiking and get eaten by a noonwraith or something.”

“Noonwraiths don’t live in forests. Don’t even live, really. They’re...” Geralt makes a face that Jaskier assumes means he’s caught on that it was a joke. That said, Jaskier admires his commitment to finishing anyway. “More like trapped spirits.”

“You’re the expert,” Jaskier says agreeably, not quite managing to stifle the urge to laugh. “So what is it that keeps bringing you here, then? Do witchers have territories or something? Do you live around here? Actually, no. That’s a stupid question. If you lived around here you wouldn’t have wound up here like that…”

He expects the look of annoyance he seems to have gotten very good at drawing from Geralt so far. What he doesn’t expect is the way Geralt’s gaze darts away, looking at pretty much anything but Jaskier. “No.”

“No what?”

“All of it. This is just on the way to a lot of the places I end up,” Geralt clarifies with a heavy sigh. It’s a lie, Jaskier is pretty sure, because this podunk down isn’t really on the way to anywhere, and the rest of Geralt’s answer confirms as much. “... ish.”

“The coffee isn’t that good,” Jaskier teases. He doesn’t get it, but he does like Geralt, no matter how taciturn the witcher might be.

“It’s not.” Geralt tenses where he sits, and Jaskier thinks maybe he ought not to have pressed. As strange as today has been for him, it’s probably been awful for Geralt. Only Geralt doesn’t look upset. If anything, he ducks his head, a bit sheepish, muttering something under his breath.

Jaskier doesn’t even realize he’s leaned in closer until Geralt’s eyes widen just a fraction. “Sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

The way Geralt scowls, not at Jaskier but just in general, he thinks he’s not going to get an answer. He especially doesn’t think he’s going to get this particular answer, and yet Geralt very abruptly surrenders. “I don’t come here for the coffee.”

Oh. Jaskier bows his head to hide the smile that tugs at his lips. Somehow, it’s comforting to think that Geralt, who faces down monsters and seems generally put together is as awkward as he is. So much so that it takes him a second to even realize Geralt is maybe flirting with him. Definitely trying to judging by the vaguely terrified, deer in the headlights expression on the witcher’s face.

“I’m much better off the clock.” Jaskier immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, but it’s far too late. This is the point where Geralt realizes he’s made a terrible mistake. This is the moment where he decides maybe not to come back.

Whatever Jaskier expects, it’s not Geralt’s laughter, a surprised huff that sprawls out into something more concrete. It’s the loveliest sound Jaskier thinks he’s ever heard, and he can’t even bring himself to mind that it’s a little bit at his expense. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before Jaskier can say anything, flirtatious or otherwise, there’s the familiar chime of someone coming through the door. Not that he needs the door to alert him. The raucous laughter does a good job on its own. That’d be the 3 a.m. crowd.

“I should… get back to work,” Jaskier reluctantly concedes and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t imagine the faintly disappointed look on Geralt’s face.

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmurs just as Jaskier is about to leave, softly enough he almost misses it. When he turns to look, the witcher’s jaw works for a moment before he says, “Thank you. For all this.”

“Any time,” Jaskier replies, not entirely surprised to find he means it. Even if nothing comes of their newfound camaraderie, maybe he’ll get a song out of it or something.

The 3 a.m. rush keeps him busy after that, and Jaskier only really makes it back to Geralt’s table to refill his coffee and bring him the check. By the time things slow down, Geralt is out the door, which is a good thing, honestly. He’s gotta sleep some time, Jaskier supposes.

Jaskier watches Geralt’s car disappear before he goes to clean up the table. As always, Geralt has left everything neatly stacked (yet another reason he’s Jaskier’s favorite customer). There are a few bills, and it’s only as he’s pocketing them that he notices writing on the receipt Geralt left behind.

A phone number is scrawled across the slip of paper, but it’s the note underneath that makes Jaskier grin as he pockets it for later.

Just in case you run into any noonwraiths in the woods.

(Fic Masterpost)

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Void of Extinction by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 6/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche @jonesfandomfanatic

Chapter 6: Wave of Remembrance

Emma paced the small room, chewing wearily on her lip as she watched the man on the bed in front of her. She felt her entire body freeze the moment Killian hit the ground, his eyes blank, staring into the sky. Her immediate fear was that she had shared too much information and overloaded him. But once she got to his side and realized he wasn’t breathing, she was terrified she had killed him.

She was grateful to Mary Margaret and her quick thinking; her medical staff was by his side almost instantly. By the time they got him breathing again, Emma was certain her own heart had stopped beating in her chest.

He groaned from his place on the bed and Emma rushed to his side, pulling his hand into hers as he blinked his eyes opened and closed.

“What happened?”

“I’m so sorry, Killian, I knew I shouldn’t have told you too much at once, dammit, I thought I had lost you.” She said through tear-soaked sobs.

He reached across his chest, wiping tears from her face. “There, there Lass, there’s no need to worry about me. I’m a survivor after all.”

��Don’t ever scare me like that again.” She sobbed through half a smile.

“I apologize, Swan.” He grinned. “Won’t happen again.”

“What did you call me?” She paused, recognizing his use of her last name, something Killian used frequently when referring to her, she didn’t want the hope to soar in her chest.

“Uh, is Swan not your last name?” He asked in confusion. “I was sure I heard it mentioned.”

She frowned, “Yeah I guess so.” She said sadly.

“Have I upset you?”

“Of course not, no it’s nothing. I’m just glad you’re alright.” She stepped away from him and he grabbed her hand, pulling her back toward the bed. As soon as he did, he dropped her hand, staring directly at her.

~*~

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, my gorgeous Swan?”

“Yes, but you can tell me again.”

“When all of this settles and the walls come down, I’m gonna buy you a house on the ocean, and we will sit out on the porch and watch the ships come in until the sun sets over the water. And then I’m going to take you into the house and make love to you until the sun rises.”

“When will we sleep?”

“Who needs sleep when I have you, love?”

“Are you alright? Dammit, where’s the doctor?” He could hear Emma’s raised voice as his vision swirled. Reaching out he took her hand again.

“I’m alright.” He groaned. “Just another vision. Honestly, I’m fine, it didn’t hurt as bad this time.”

“You just told me you wouldn’t scare me again.” She scolded and he found himself laughing at the anger on her face. He sat up on the edge of the bed, stretching his back as he stepped down on the ground, ignoring Emma’s constant pleas for him to sit down.

“I’m fine. I’m not going to lay in that bloody bed anymore.”

“Why are you always so goddamn stubborn.” She yelled.

“Stubborn? I’m not the one insisting that someone else has stolen my life.” He returned her fire as she stood with her mouth open.

“Why is it such a bad thing for you to have his life?” She asked loudly, tears forming again at the corners of her eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, he didn’t want to yell at her, none of this was her fault. “I’m sorry Emma, it’s not my intention to hurt you.” He didn’t know how to stop her from crying, instead he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her against his chest as she cried into him. Instinctively his hands found her hair, brushing the strands with his fingers. “Please don’t cry, love.”

She sniffled under his chin, her hands resting on his chest. He could get used to holding this woman, even if it wasn’t his right to do so.

“I miss you so much.” She said softly, before he felt her mouth against his chest, her hot breath causing a slight groan to get stuck in his throat.

“Emma…” He breathed the warning into her hair the moment he felt her mouth languidly move to his jawline. His eyes fell closed as her teeth skimmed his flesh.

“Come back to me, please.” She begged, a stray tear dripping from her face onto his skin. He couldn’t breathe, his heart was pounding through his chest, the pain traveling up his back as he groaned in discomfort and she pulled away from him, her face puffy and red, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry, oh God, Killian, I’m so sorry.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing through his nose as the pain subsided. When he was able to see through the slanted space of his narrowed eyes, he focused in on her face, the sadness across her features, the way she bit her lip to stop the tears from flowing, he would do anything to stop her pain. Anything.

Before his brain caught up with his body, he had pulled her into his arms again, his lips latching on to hers, a squeal of surprise escaping her open mouth. The moment she returned the kiss, his entire world exploded into light around him. It was as if the pull of her gravity had suddenly swallowed him whole. Everything else ceased to exist except for him and the woman in his arms.

His Emma. His world.

Visions invaded his thoughts, a wave of remembrance.

His mother cradling him in her arms as she sang a soft lullaby.

Mourning at the gravesite of his lost brother.

Being sworn in as an officer of the law, David Nolan standing before him as he placed his hand on the bible.

Emma Swan wrapped in a sheet, standing at the edge of his bed, staring out the window at the world below them.

Watching Emma walk away from him as he swore he would see her soon.

Standing there as Neal Cassidy stepped out of the shadows of his apartment, a gun in his hand.

Being placed in a machine as he screamed Emma’s name before the door slammed shut and the blackness took him away, burying his thoughts in the recesses of his mind.

It all came back to him in a heartbeat, an instant of pain and then nothing but the feel of the woman in his arms.

He pulled away from her, his palm resting against her cheek. “Emma?” He felt the tears pooling, blinding his vision, as her green eyes, eyes he wanted to be lost in for the rest of his eternity, stared up at him. “You’re alright!”

“Killian?” She said with a gulp as he nodded his head, pressing his lips to hers once more, he felt her entire weight push toward him, knocking him back against the wall with a laugh. Suddenly she was peppering him with kisses on his cheek, his jaw, his forehead. “It’s you.”

“Aye love, it’s me.” He said, resting his head against her forehead. “Sorry it took me so long to find you.”

She smiled at him before launching into his arms again. “I missed you so much.” She breathed against his neck, her hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He reached up, cupping a hand against hers, stilling her movement.

“Shouldn’t we inform the others?”

She bit her lip and he melted. “We can tell them in the morning.” The moment she smiled with a mischievous gleam he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed.

“As you wish, M’lady.” He teased as he deposited her onto the bed.

He kissed her as if it were the first time their mouths had touched, like rediscovering something you thought you once lost. Holding her in his arms, their bodies sliding against each other in a mixture of heat and sweat, he swore to her that he would never leave her again. When she fell over the edge, his name on her lips, he wasn’t sure how he had survived without her for so long.

As they lay together in the dark, her heart beating against his chest, her eyes sought his as if she had something she needed to say, something weighing on her heart.

She sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist. “Killian, there’s something I need to tell you.”

He sat up, pressing his mouth to her shoulder. “You can tell me anything, love.” She turned toward him, letting the sheets fall around her.

Suddenly the door to the room swung open and Will stepped through the archway. “Emma…Oi.” His hand went to his face. “I uh…”

“Would you please wait outside.” Emma said, swearing under her breath.

“Yup, can do. Sorry ‘bout that…”

“Get out Will!” She shouted, trying to pull her sheet against her chest.

As soon as the door closed she fell against his chest. “He’s never going to stop talking about this.” She groaned.

“Go see what he wants.” He smiled. Kissing her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’d better not.” She smiled, sliding out from the sheets as he leaned against the wall, watching her dress, happy to once again feel like himself.

~*~

Emma stepped outside the door, Will was leaning against the wall.

“Oi, I told you that man would fall for you in any reality, but that didn’t mean I wanted to witness it.”

“Next time try knocking.”

“He was out cold, how was I to know you two would be shacking up right after he almost died.”

“He remembered.” She said suddenly. “That was Killian, not James.”

“Wait, what? Are you serious? And your first thought was to give him a proper shag before you let the rest of us know?”

She rolled her eyes. “We were going to tell everyone in the morning.”

“Plans changed. Mary Margaret wants to see everyone now.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“Well, if you’re done having sex with your boyfriend, perhaps we could all find out.” She slapped him on the shoulder and retreated to the room. “We’ll be right there.”

When she entered, Killian was still sitting on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Mary Margaret wants to see everyone now. I’m not sure what’s going on, but Will seemed to think it was important.”

He stood from the bed, gathering his clothes from the floor. “Did he say what the urgency was about?”

She shook her head and continued dressing herself, trying not to let her nerves get to her. “No, just that she wanted to see everyone right away.”

He paused, stepping closer to her, stilling her in her place as he lifted her chin, pulling her eyes to his. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. You and me, love.”

“God, I missed you.” He bent slightly to kiss her lips, letting her continue the task of pulling her clothes on. They walked hand in hand toward the control center, smiling at each other before entering the room.

“Together.” He reminded her before stepping through the door.

~*~

The door opened and Killian stepped through the opening, his grip on Emma’s hand tightening. He didn’t miss the way everyone gawked at them, whispers rumbling through the group.

Mary Margaret stepped toward them, pausing as she stared at their entangled hands. “It’s a pleasure to final meet you, Lady Nolan. David mentioned you in passing more than once.”

“Killian?” She exclaimed.

“Aye, seems the fog has lifted.”

“Thank God.”

“What’s going on?” Emma interrupted.

“David called me an hour ago. He’s on his way with Regina to the Eastern border. He said they got a call about a body, a man named Felix Croft.”

“He worked for Neal.” Emma said nervously. “He attacked me on the pier, he might have killed me if Ruby hadn’t taken him down.”

Mary Margaret frowned, “They are pinning it on Killian.”

“What?”

“David told me that an eyewitness put you at the scene and that they saw you kill the man.”

“Clearly it’s a lie.” Emma squeaked.

“I’m not concerned about Felix.” Mary Margaret shook her head. “David told me that he was going to be out all night as they investigated the scene. So that means that both Regina and David will be indisposed this evening, now is our time to get to the data port. But we don’t have a lot of time. We need to move now.”

“How are we going to get into Regina’s office?” Emma asked.

“You tell me.” The woman looked in his direction. “You had a plan previously, how were you planning to get into her office.”

“There’s a thing about Regina that not a lot of people knew, there had been a few death threats on her life, so she had a secret entrance built into her office, very secure and only a select number of people know the code to access it.”

“How does that help us, Mate?” Will interjected.

“Because I was one of those select people.” He said with a wink.

“Ok, then we have our way in.”

“How? The minute they see Killian on the streets they will alert Regina. Did you forget about the shoot to kill order?”

“That’s why Killian isn’t going.” Mary Margaret announced.

Killian’s heart sank. “If you think I’m letting Emma do this alone, I can assure you that you are wrong.”

“It’s too dangerous, if you go, we’ll be caught immediately. The only chance we have is if you stay behind.”

“She’s right.” Emma said softly beside him. “You’d never make it past the walls.”

He turned toward her, “We said we would do this together.”

“Killian, you put your life on the line to protect me, it’s time for me to return the favor. I can do this.”

“You’ll still be helpful from here.” Mary Margaret assured.

“How exactly would I be of help from the underground? Babysitting?” He said sarcastically.

“I can’t take Henry with me.”

“I was talking about Will.” He added, a small pout on his face that slowly turned into a smile.

“Cheeky bastard.” Will swore, sitting down at the table across from him.

“You’ll be on the communicator, you have the code, we’ll be your eyes, but you need to talk us through how to get to the office. We still need you.”

He nodded at the dark-haired woman standing in front of him. “Aye, then when do you leave?”

~*~

Emma cooed softly with her son in her arms, rocking back and forth in the middle of the room. “Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart. Never to part, baby of mine.” She ran her hand across his chubby little cheek as his bright blue eyes smiled up at her. She felt a tear slip onto her cheek.

“If anything goes wrong, promise me, you’ll take care of him.” She spoke softly, trying to keep her voice calm as she spoke.

“Love, nothing is going to go wrong. You get in, enter the code, upload the information, and get out.”

She looked up at Killian and smiled nervously. “I know, but just in case. Promise me.”

He stepped beside her and wrapped his arm around her, bending to place a soft kiss against her brow. “I will protect him with my life.”

“Thank you.” She smiled down at Henry as she placed him into his bed. Turning she wrapped her arms around Killian’s waist, enveloping herself in his scent as he pulled her against him.

“Stay close to Will.”

She laughed. “You know I could kick his ass, right?”

“For me, please, I need you to come home to me.” He almost begged, his voice cracking as he spoke. She melted into his embrace, feeling the gravity of the situation before her. She was so close to completing her mission, she wanted it to be over, to finally feel safe. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She heard a knock on the door causing them to break contact. “It’s time.” Will announced, sticking his head into the crack in the door.

She lifted her jacket from the chair beside her and pulled her arms through the sleeves. When she turned she saw Killian leaning over to pick Henry up from his bed. She held her breath, watching as the boy leaned his head against the man’s broad chest.

“Killian…” She said softly. “When I get back, we need to talk.”

His eyes met hers, full of worry and anxiety. “I've found when a woman says that I'm rarely in for a pleasant conversation.”

“Emma, we need to go.” Will pushed the door further open, stepping inside. “Sorry.”

“Go love, we’ll talk when you return.” He said with a smile and Emma crossed the room to press a kiss to her son’s head, leaning up on her toes to then meet Killian’s lips.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“I know you will.” He said with confidence before clearing his throat. “Stay close to her.” His remark was directed across the room to Will.

“I won’t let anything happen to her.” He said with a nod.

“I meant that so she could protect you.” He chuckled.

“Bugger off.” Will grumbled as he walked out of the door with Killian and Emma close behind.

Emma followed the group through the maze of dark halls until they reached a giant hanger with the sound of water all around them. Sitting at the end of the room was a small boat.

“Alright, we get in and we get right back out. That’s it. We have no room for error.” Mary Margaret stated firmly. “We can’t make any mistakes because we only have a few hours before David comes back to the office with that bucket of rust.”

Emma turned and wrapped her arms one more time around Killian’s neck, running her hand along the back of her son’s head. Leaning against his ear she whispered, “Take care of him, Henry.” She kissed her son and then smiled at Killian. “Be right back.” She stepped onto the boat and sat down in between Ruby and Will.

The boat pulled away from the bunker and she watched as Killian stood at the edge of the water, her son wrapped protectively in his arms, until the fog overtook them, and she was surrounded by darkness.

[holylulusworld]

Catch & Release - Catch

Summary: When your fiancé dies days before your wedding you find yourself confronted with his lies. When his best friend attends his burial things become even more complicated as you slowly fall for the green-eyed man.

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader; Sam x Reader (mentioned), Sam x Jess (mentioned)

Characters: Benny Lafitte, Jimmy Novak

Warnings: angst, betrayal, cheating, main characters death, grief, sadness, arguments, language, comforting, angry reader, mentions of infidelity

A/N: Loosely inspired by the movie Catch & Release. Dialogs and characters are not the same as in the movie. Sam and Dean are not brothers for my storyline.

Catch & Release Masterlist

 “How could I not see Sam was not the man I believed he is? Am I dumb? Was I too blinded by my love? Hell, I gave everything to him. Sam was my whole world and now I must realize, I never was his world,” you sniffle, looking helpless at Dean.

He’s still not used to comfort a girl. Dean Winchester never was the kind of guy who soothed a girl; he was rather the one breaking a girl’s heart.

“I can’t tell you, sweetheart,” he mumbles instinctively wrapping his arms around you.

Sobs wreck your body when you must hear Jess’s voice become louder. All you can understand is that Benny seems to want her gone, but Jimmy, well he wants her to stay.

“Figures,” Dean whispers, running his hand over your back to soothe you. “Jimmy always was into other guys girls.”

“Dean, I want to escape this nightmare. I want to just climb out of the window, run away and never remember Sam’s name or that I wasted so many years on him,” you hide your face in Dean’s chest, almost clinging to him whilst he feels his heart flutter anytime you reach out for him.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Y/N. I barely know you, but we can sneak out of the window if you want to,” a smile crosses your face until you hear Jess’s voice raise again. “I’m sorry.”

“This is not your fault, Dean. Sam was the one cheating on me, not you,” he rests his chin on top of your head, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know this must be odd for you. Soothing your dead friends’ fiancé.”

“Nah, I had worse dates. Once a girl brought a parrot to a restaurant. At first, I believed she tried to be funny but that feathered guy was her spirit animal or crap. I had to pay for the bird’s meal too,” you snicker, looking up at Dean. “I swear, it’s true.”

“You had odd dates,” humming Dean wraps one arm around your waist, presses you closer to his chest. “Any other funny dates you want to talk about?”

“There was that girl, she was a belly dancer, smoking hot and all…bendable,” you grin, following Dean when he leads you toward the window. “Long story short – she was a twin and wanted a threesome with me and her brother.”

“Gosh, did you…?” you poke Dean’s chest, giving him a knowing look. “I bet you kissed a guy and liked it!”

“No, but she’s a nice girl, still sends me Christmas cards and calls on my birthday. Even asked me to be her best man at her wedding with the parrot lady.” Dean wiggles his eyebrows before he bursts into laughter. “You believed me, didn’t you?”

“All a lie,” you whine. “The bird lady too?”

“The bird was real, sweetheart. It pooped onto my jacket, called me a jerk, and flew around the restaurant. In the end, we got kicked out,” laughing you look at Dean. He gives you a soft smile, glad he could distract you for a moment or two.

“Can we just run away for tonight?”

“Phew, that was a close call. They almost caught us sneak out,” Dean smirks, holding out his hand to help you sit on the hood of Benny’s truck you stole to drive to the lake. “Haven’t been here for like twelve years.”

“Sam liked to fish, but I couldn’t watch him kill the fish,” you lean your head against Dean’s shoulder, just watching the water.

“I don’t like it either,” smiling you watch Dean who points toward the lake. “I like to eat fish but don’t want to kill it first.”

“Sam and I, we didn’t share interests or hobbies. I never thought I would say so, but when I look back at my relationship with Sam, I don’t think we were meant to be.”

He doesn’t say a word, nor does he react when you rest your head on his lap. Dean simply watches you close your eyes, smiling when your breathing evens out.

“Just sleep a bit, sweetheart. I will not let that girl hurt you, promised.”

“Where have you been? We were worried sick,” Jimmy exclaims, glaring at Dean who has one arm slung around your waist.

“You mean you were worried sick,” Benny grunts. “I told you she’s safe with Dean. Now be quiet. I don’t think Y/N needs more stress than you already caused. Letting that chick, the proof of Sam’s infidelity, inside,” you never saw Benny that mad before. His nostrils flare and he balls his hands into fists. “Leave Y/N and Dean alone.”

“I was simply worried, Benny. They could’ve told us…,” Jimmy stammers, watching you look at Jess who still sits on the couch. The blonde runs one hand over her belly, not missing the way you follow the motion.

“We kinda didn’t want to meet up with a certain person. Just drop it, okay,” Dean grumbles, too angry to handle Jimmy’s jealousy. “I suggest you send Jess to Sam’s mother. I bet Mary Winchester would be happy to see the girl who ruined Y/N’s relationship with Sam.” Dean leads you toward the backyard to take a few deep breaths.

“Thank you,” mumbling the words you run one hand over Dean’s back to calm him. “I don’t know if I want to pity Jess for carrying her dead lovers baby or to beat the shit out of her,” you laugh, covering your mouth with the palm of your right hand when the laughter turns into sobs. “How could he do this to me?”

“Oh-sweetheart, Sam was a fool,” you run into the house when Jess walks outside to get fresh air, calling your name. “You shouldn’t have come here, Jess.”

“I had to,” Jess sighs. “I’m alone, pregnant and just lost my job. Sam was as much responsible than I that a baby is on her way,” Dean looks away, not wanting to pity Jess. “I can understand why he came to me, Dean. Sam always seemed to be under pressure. Now I know why – she’s unique, lovely, and beautiful. Smart too, according to Jimmy.”

You flatten against the wall, hiding in the shadows to listen to Jess’s words.

“Sam, he relaxed with me. I was nothing but convenient when the stress of playing the perfect man for Y/N was too much. I never wanted to get pregnant, that wasn’t the plan.”

“What was the plan?” Dean huffs. “Fucking Sammy until he gets married or did the two of you plan to keep on doing it?”

“Honestly…,” Jess hangs her head, shaking it lightly, “I don’t know Dean. When we parted ways after college, I always tried to reach out for Sam. One day, he was at your place, we ran into each other and the spark reignited. Back then he said it was only this once, that he loves Y/N, and believe me, he did but…”

“The need to relax was stronger, I get,” Dean watches you sneak into the house, a sad smile on his lips. “Sam should’ve made a decision, not fool two girls…”

“He wanted to end things or rather did so. Sam didn’t want to come to California before his wedding, but I insisted that he needs to help me with the baby,” Jess rubs her arms, looking at Dean. “It’s my fault he’s dead, Dean. If not for my selfishness Sam could be alive, married to the woman he loved.”

“True, but Sam decided to drive to California instead of telling you no. We saw the pictures, Jess. He came to you, had fun, took nice pictures, and drove back to his fiancé,” Dean’s patience is wearing thin when Jess tries to excuse the pictures.

“One last nice memory, you know. That’s what the pictures are, nothing else.” Dean brushes past Jess. He looks over his shoulder, not hiding his disgust.

“You mean you fucked one last time before he drove off to marry someone else. Whilst you decided to wait in California for him to come back and do it all over again.”

“You should’ve known better than letting that girl in,” Benny chastises. “Y/N is vulnerable, hurt, and devasted and you just threw that pregnant girl at her.”

“Benny, calm down. We are all tired,” Dean rubs his eyes, hating he can hear sobs come from inside your room. “I’ll check on Y/N. I hate to say it, but we can’t let a pregnant girl sleep on the street. The first thing in the morning we will do is to call Mary Winchester. She can take care of her sons’ concubine,” storming off Dean ignores Jimmy’s angry grunts.

“Who does he think he is? Mr. One-night-stand can’t just act as if he’s Y/N’s best friend,” Jimmy narrows his eyes, not liking Benny silently nods at Dean. “Great, you are on that asshole’s side.”

“Whoever can make Y/N feel better is welcome to try. Dean is a good guy. Believe it or not, he never cheated on a woman. He’s a heartbreaker but never promised a girl to marry her only to fuck his ex. That was Sam’s specialty. If you excuse me now,” Benny grunts. “I lost one of my best friends. His fiancé, my friend is crying in her room and I’m tired enough to fall asleep standing.”

“Still, he shouldn’t be with her…”

“You didn’t have to come here, Dean. I understand if you are tired of catching me whenever I fall. You barely know me and,” he’s pressing his index finger to your lips, shaking his head.

“If I didn’t want to be here, I would’ve left hours or days ago. How about we try to get some sleep?” giving Dean a sly smile you nod; thankful he doesn’t want to leave you alone tonight. “I need confirmation, ma’am.”

You giggle, mumbling ‘yes Sir’ before you crawl onto the bed, resting your tired body onto the soft mattress. “Dean, thank you.”

“Bake me a pie one day and we are even,” he smirks, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders. You don’t want to be a creep but you can’t take your eyes off Dean when he unbuttons his shirt. “Did you ever think that it was Sam’s fault, not yours? He was the one cheating on you. There is nothing wrong with you.”

Dean lies next to you, carefully running his fingers through your hair. “I’m no one you want to stay with, Dean. Look at her and then…” Dean’s lips press against yours and you gasp before you lose yourself in the kiss.

At first, it’s slow, gentle but you grasp for his hair, tug harshly at the soft strands, causing Dean to growls against your lips. “Catch me one last time, Dean…”

More tags in reblog

Catch & Release

@allonsy-yesiwill​​

@marvelfansworld​

[periminkle]

Orphic | 03

After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.

pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)

genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff

word count: 8.0k

rating: pg-15

warnings: swearing, people throwing up, death, mentions of harming test subjects, ANIMAL ABUSE

author’s note: hahaha no it hasn’t been almost a month since i uploaded the last chapter, what are you talking about ?? this was also supposed to be the second half of chapter two before i got carried away and added an extra 8k to it,,, anyway eNJOY

→ previous | next

A few days had passed since word broke of Taemin’s death. With his absence, there was a substantial lack of cells to study, thus granting loads of free time to brood over said jaguar cub.

Knowing he would eventually leave prepared me for a mild episode of dejection, but nothing could compare to the aching gap left from his passing. Despite having known the little guy for only a short month or so, he was my stress reliever, coaxing a tender smiles after a day’s worth of drudgery with his endearing behaviour. He was the spark that fuelled my growing bond with the only decent people I could find here.

Moreover, he spent the last couple months of his life caged, muzzled and treated atrociously, as if he was the beast. I pushed back tears for the umpteenth time.

My head jerked backwards as a tissue was abruptly shoved in my face. “Do you want me to get another box?” Yoongi’s rough voice permeated the sniffles I tried to hold back and I buried my face deep into my arms, closing my eyes and trying to even out my staggered breath.

In my grief I pushed everyone away, disgusted with even my own lack of ability to protect the one faultless being that was ripped out of my grasp much too soon. Bereavement blinded me, leaving me unable to distinguish friend from foe and as a result, I cast them all out.

Unknowingly, I reverted to the mindset that I had hoped to leave behind in the city, where there was no one to turn to when everything spiralled out of control. Blaming others for my own shortcomings opened my eyes to just how cowardly I was, losing myself in a labyrinth of my own self-loathing.

It was lonesome, to say the least.

But they’d never left my side, much to my initial displeasure. Either Namjoon or Yoongi constantly shadowed my inhospitable self, from the office to the lab tables, going as far as waiting outside the bathrooms for me. I angrily confronted each one about the evident stalking on numerous occasions, yet Namjoon would insist that he was worried about my well-being and Yoongi claimed he was simply headed the same way.

By the second day, I caught on to their schedule of routinely swapping babysitting duties at around the second and third hour mark. I attempted to find some respite and solace by escaping to the break room once, when I knew both assistants had already taken their respective time off for the day. Foolishly, I believed that I’d finally evaded the duo’s clingy tactics. 

However, before I could bask in my newfound solitude, Jin’s lethargic form made an appearance. True to his overbearing, fatherly instincts, he placed a homemade sandwich on the coffee table in front of me and lectured me on skipping meals.

Even without acknowledging my mistreatment towards them lately, I knew the three of them were empathetic enough to chalk it up to my process of mourning. Nonetheless, the immeasurable guilt I felt had accumulated over the abundance of time I had to reflect on my actions. Enough hours had been allotted to sulking and after a full day’s worth of encouraging, internal pep talks, I mustered up the courage to put effort towards amending my wrongdoings.

The screech of wheels rolling against the smooth tiles of the floor elicited the roll of his name off my lips. “Yoongs.” Intrigued by the lack of a hostile tone present in my voice, I felt his gaze flit to my hunched frame. The fact that I didn’t even have to lift my head to feel his eyes softening at the vexing nickname stuck a fresh layer of shame to my skin. “’M sorry.”

With my face practically burrowed into the sleeve of my lab coat, the apology came out muffled and barely audible, though I was met with the thoughtful, low timbre of Yoongi’s hum. “And, I know it’s no excuse, but everything has just been a lot lately.”

Regardless of my verbal atonement, the blonde man continued on his path out of the office, evident by the creak of his weight shifting off the chair and the following footsteps that drifted farther away.

I belatedly lifted the heavy weight of my head off of my arms, vacantly staring at the doorway that Yoongi had just passed through. Before I knew it, his unusually lively form lumbered back inside, two brightly patterned tissue boxes in hand. “What a crybaby.”

The corners of my lips tugged upwards for the first time in the past few days. It was a welcome development.

One down, two more to go.

With a single reconciliation under my belt, repeating the same process with Namjoon went a lot smoother than expected. I sought him out after my healthy banter with Yoongi ceased, eager to successively rectify all the relationships I’d bruised. “Don’t stress about it; honestly we deserve a cold shoulder for the trouble we’ve caused you. Yoongi probably depleted over half your stash of beer all on his own.”

The drinking tolerance of those boys was well beyond my comprehension. Although my house was completely out of the way home for all of them, I could only assume that it was sheer obstinacy impelling them to commonly stop by my house to wind down after a typically harsh day.

Lifting my head from the microscope that held samples of Doshik’s DNA, the resident blue tang speedily running laps in the tank, I peeked over at Namjoon’s dark hair, ruffled from the strap of his goggles. “I don’t mind. All I’m saying is that if I ever run out of stock, you guys are going to have to bring your own drinks.”

“C’mon Y/N, don’t be like that. Restocking your liquor every once in a while is nothing compared to our company right?” The appearance of his endearing dimples brought me back to the times I magically woke up in my bed after drinking my problems away with them the night before, the days they sent me home early because I yawned one too many times or all the snacks I strangely picked out of my bag ever so often.

I raised one teasing brow, crossing my arms and leaning back in the incommodious, metal chair. “Once in a while? With the rate that you guys are going, I would have to go to the store every other day.”

“Like I said, mainly Yoongi’s fault.” His deft fingers switched to a higher lens before continuing, “But really, you’ve got to confide in us, alright? I think we’re past the stage of ‘I want nothing to do with you when my shift is over.’”

It seemed like another weight had been lifted off my shoulders from the unexpected, forgiving nature of both men despite having every reason to be peeved at my churlish attitude as of late. Before I could formulate a response, Namjoon added, “Are you feeling better?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to his question when I was just as clueless about my own welfare. But, I disregarded the notion of lying or concealing anything from them, as they’d relentlessly proven their loyalty and concern for me on more than one occasion.

“I’m not sure yet, Joon. I think I need some more time.” I covertly swapped out my microscope slide for the one sitting next to the unsuspecting man, intent on decreasing his workload, even if only by the slightest bit. “I’m glad that I have you guys, though. Thanks for dealing with my grumpy ass.”

I couldn’t help the curve in my lips when his impish gaze finally met mine, evidently content with my candour. “To be honest with you, Yoongi told me about your apology, so I was kind of expecting it.”

My jaw dropped in betrayal. “He told you?”

“Mhm, said that you could practically refill Doshik’s tank with the amount of tears you shed.”

“Wha—how could he, this guy!” Contrary to the clear exasperation in my tone, a wide grin revealed my true feelings. “Then he says that Jin exaggerates all his stories.”

A hearty chuckle escaped him. “Well, at least we know where Yeri got it from. Do you remember the last time she came to the lab?” I couldn’t repress my own chortle at the memory, the onslaught of laughter provoking a sudden cramp in my stomach that I uselessly pressed my palm against, attempting to quell the overactive muscles. “She swindled me out of twenty bucks by crying about Jin throwing out all of her toys!”  

With a flaming red flush to my cheeks, I struggled to get a sentence past my quivering lips. “You can’t even blame the kid,” I temporarily regained my breath and continued, “you’re just too gullible.”

“Hey!” He pouted at the remark, jabbing a gloved digit into my side as a form of retaliation. The blow to my ribs induced a high-pitched squeak out of me and my hand darted to the sore spot in an attempt to block any further attacks. “Have you ever been on the end of those puppy dog eyes? You can’t just do nothing, it’s basically witchcraft.”

“Yes, yes, Jin taught her too well.” I attempted to placate the threatening fingers that hung in the air, poised for another stab if need be.

Namjoon bobbed his head in agreement, seemingly pleased with my answer as brought his attention back to the chromosomes in front of him. “Have you had time to go see him?”

“Ah, no, not yet. He’s the last one I have to pour my soul out to.”

In the comfortable silence that ensued, I found myself recalling the vile confrontation from a few days back. Truth be told, my mind regularly drifted to Hyunho’s harsh words whenever an empty lull emerged within my headspace, which was the exact reason I enjoyed keeping myself occupied as of late. The echo of the wretched man declaring Taemin’s passing was the predominant focus of my flashbacks, but a particular fragment of the rest of his spiel stuck out to me as well—the mention of a tiger cub. “Hey, Joon?”

No doubt noticing the change in my tone, Namjoon fixed his stare on my fragile countenance once more, holding my gaze. Only then did I realize that I was unconsciously craving the sincere reassurance locked away beneath those brown specks, similar to a wailing newborn falling silent at being held in its mother’s embrace.

“Did you know?” The question spilled from my lips before I could process it.

Even with the lack of context, the adept assistant instantly shook his head. “No. No, I didn’t.” My gut twisted as he redirected his stare, trapping his lower lip between his unforgiving teeth in thought. “I still don’t really know. I’ve heard bits and pieces from some gossiping researchers that talk too loud, but I haven’t gotten enough to piece everything together. Hoseok said that they recently found the test subject they’d lost a while ago.”

Sincerity undoubtedly rang within each syllable of Namjoon’s voice. After a speedy internal debate, I unloaded all the horrendous secrets that I’d uncovered, from the initial suspicion I harboured to the folder in Jin’s office, and finally to the mutated PDE6C gene. The hardly intelligible speech all raged past my lips much like word vomit and my knee began to briskly bounce up and down from the massive influx of emotions.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Namjoon said softly, stretching one lengthy limb out to rub soothing circles onto my back. “Let’s go slow, hm?”

I concentrated on the gentle touch that now rested on my shoulder, schooling my breath before continuing, “I need to help them. I can’t stand around, watching Hyunho and Minzi do whatever they want with no repercussions. These are lives they’re ruining.” Feeling myself getting heated again, I twiddled the tips of my fingers to keep my head level and busy. “It’s not just about Taemin anymore, think about it. This can’t be the first time a lab animal has been ‘tested on’ and died of ‘natural causes’ or whatever excuses they’ve been using.”

I didn’t catch the recognition flashing in Namjoon’s eyes, but his silence drove me to release the thoughts that had been stewing around my conscience for a while now. “Hyunho said that they’re bringing in a new cub right? We can’t let the same thing happen to him. We have to protect the animals in this lab, Joon.”

“I know how you feel, but there isn’t much we can do when they take the animals away to perform their tests.” As he saw me open my mouth to butt in, he interjected, “Trust me, we’ve tried. I’m pretty sure that the only reason we’re still around is because Jin keeps vying for us despite all the ruckus we’ve made.”

“We can’t just sit around and do nothing though! Have you been in the break room lately? Have you heard their screams? Joon, there’s something in there. Even now, they’re probably torturing some poor, undeserving animal.” In my determination, I grabbed the lapels of Namjoon’s pristine, white lab coat. “We have to save it.”

“We don’t even have a key card, Y/N,” Namjoon protested, his tone of voice still low and gentle, imploring me to understand the more rational side of the nonsense I was spewing. “And even if we did, the second we barge in there the cameras will spot us and we’ll be fired immediately. No matter how persuasive Jin can be, he won’t be able to save us from that. Then there’s really going to be nothing we can do to help them.” He hung his head in resignation. “At least we can make their last days somewhat enjoyable. At least from here we can wait for an opening, a chance for us to catch them in the act when they inevitably slip up one day.”

My brows pulled upwards in my distress, bringing my head closer in an attempt for Namjoon to see my desperation. “And how long is that going to take? Weeks? Months? Years? When do we put our foot down?”

His features softened and I already knew that I wouldn’t like whatever he was going to say next. “If we don’t act logically, we won’t be able to save anything.”

My jaw clenched, but I knew he had a point. 

A sigh escaped his distraught form. “Go eat something and cool your head. We’ll talk more when you get back.”

In my defence, I had made my way to the break room like Namjoon suggested, nearly settling down with one of the many homemade sandwiches Jin left in the fridge—but not even five minutes passed before torturous whimpers of pain filled my ears. The pile of carbohydrates in front of me suddenly didn’t seem quite as appetizing.

In order to restrain my impulsive self from further digging my own grave, I mercilessly gnawed away at my lip, repeating Namjoon’s warnings like a sacred mantra in my head. When the dull taste of metal hit my tongue, I quickly placed the meal back where I found it and scurried out of the agonizing space as fast as my legs would carry me.

Rather than providing relief though, I found that every step weighed heavier than the next. I felt the toll both physically and emotionally. No matter how much distance I put between myself and the tormented creature, I wasn’t able to escape the distressed cries that echoed throughout my skull, perpetually bounding from one end to another. 

My plan was to drown out any nonsensical thoughts with the lengthy sequence to Doshik’s yellow tail.

However, it was foolish to believe that I would be able to concentrate on the chromosomes in the petri dish. I couldn’t focus on properly setting up the gel electrophoresis, forgetting to dig out small wells in the agarose gel and even incorrectly attaching each end of the power source, mixing up the spots for the cathode and anode. At this point, I had to restart the whole project.

My annoyance was made vocal by the groan of frustration slipping past my mouth, though there wasn’t anyone around to witness my theoretical fall into insanity. After a few beats, attributable to the pads of my gloved fingers drumming against the lab bench, I gave in to my curiosity and concern.

I wish I hadn’t.

A quick search on the computer in Namjoon and Yoongi’s office brought up the history of the animals that had been kept at this laboratory at one point in time or another. I was revolted at the sheer number of predators who had spent their last breath here.

Dread filled my gut at the upcoming arrival of the tiger cub. I knew I could no longer heed Namjoon’s words, no matter how sensible and pragmatic they were in comparison to my own faulty logic. But to tune it all out, live in ignorance and deal with countless other innocent mammals meeting the same tragic fate as Taemin—no, I would protect anything within my reach, no matter the cost.

Although I could never fight off all the monsters of this world, I hoped to have enough power to at least change one innocent being’s life.

And that would start with whatever they’d hidden away upstairs.

With this new mission in mind, my once empty days became filled to the brim with organizing a brilliant plot, often sacrificing hours of my sleep to continue planning and ensuring every aspect was foolproof. It took self-restraint that I wasn’t aware I was capable of in order to not burst in behind Minzi whenever she threw that smug smile at me before entering with her keycard; though I knew that plan wasn’t beneficial to the animal inside. Hence, I clenched my fists and dug the soles of my runners deeper into the ground whenever I thought of it’s tortured wails.

Just a little longer.

Despite familiarizing myself with the tone of the screeches that constantly resonated in my mind, I still couldn’t place the species the groans belonged to. It didn’t necessarily matter, but I was starting to run on the blind hope that they would be similar in size to Taemin, who I could easily carry in my grasp. In case, I also hid one of the carts used around the lab to transport loads of spot plates and test tubes, emptying it of all equipment and sanitizing the sides in case of any lingering, harmful chemicals.

After many long, strenuous hours of devising strategies and avoiding suspicious eyes, the day of the crime was finally upon me. Throughout the day, I used my precise notes to shift the angle of each camera slightly when I found myself alone, just so I could sneak past without showing up in frame. 

I even headed upstairs to finally visit Jin, not having found the chance to properly apologize to him yet. The opportunity wasn’t wasted though, as I scoped out the cameras in the dim hall and nudged them over to the side as well. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to deal with those inside the torture chamber itself, but I would cross that hurdle when it came down to it.

Hopefully, the all-black guise I prepared would cover any distinguishable features amidst the shadows of the night.

I was nearing the end of my extensive plan, the only step remaining being the act of acquiring a key card, grimacing as I thought about resorting to the horrible decision of swiping that which belonged to Jin. Ironic, really, considering that the whole reason I was going to see him was to atone for my previous behaviour, yet I was planning to nab his keycard within the same breath. 

That aspect of my plot was at a standstill, as I’d never gotten a glimpse of said object in Jin’s office or on his person. I was stumped, beginning to believe that he didn’t have access to the lab upstairs. But his position as assistant director must surely give him such privileges, right?

As I was about to enter Jin’s office, prepared to snoop around a bit with the excuse of looking for Doshik’s file for concerns about his unusual allergy to something within the tank’s water, I spotted Eunmi, the snotty receptionist, striding past my frozen form. 

She plucked the notorious keycard out from an inside pocket near her chest, holding it against the reader as my eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. Unperturbed by my blatant shock, she adjusted the pile of folders squeezed within her hold and strolled in.

A huge grin split across my face as I formulated my next steps. Instead of carrying on to my original destination, I changed my route to head off to the front entrance, patiently waiting for Eunmi’s return. I could push off Jin’s apology for a little later.

After about half an hour had passed, I spotted Eunmi gracefully slide back behind the towering desk, which concealed everything but the crown of her head. The loud clicking of the keyboard filled the silence.

Typical.

“Ah, Eunmi!” I briskly walked towards her, meeting those sharp eyes for a fraction of a second before they flickered back to the monitor in front of her. “I don’t see you around very often, how have you been lately?”

“Cut the small talk newbie, I’ve got work to do,” she sneered.

I clenched my jaw, refusing to allow her words to affect my deceptive, cheery disposition as I asked, “I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink with me tonight? Y’know, since I’ve been here a couple weeks and we haven’t gotten a chance to know each other yet!”

“Sorry, too busy,” Eunmi asserted, flicking a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her shoulder. It seemed to be one of her many annoying habits that ticked me off.

Slapping my flattened palm against the shiny surface of the desk, I leaned back slightly and threw out my bait. “Ah, that’s too bad. I wanted to treat you out tonight, but I guess you’ve got too much work, huh...”

Hook.

She hummed in thought. “Time and place?”

Line.

“Bar two blocks away, eight-thirty?”

Eunmi raised a single, defined brow. “Nine. Your treat?”

I confirmed with a nod as her lips curled, displaying a pink lipstick mark on her front tooth.

Sinker.

Precisely a quarter before nine, the gentle creak of wood followed the twist of the doorknob to the assistant researchers’ lab. Jin’s drooping countenance peeked through the crack he created, fixating a mock glare on my busy hands. “That’s enough, Y/N. You can pick it up tomorrow.”

Despite the multitude of gel electrophoresis equipment scattered around me from the past few hours spent slaving away, most of that time was allocated to finalizing the nitty-gritty details for tonight. Honestly, analyzing DNA became second nature to me by now, creating space within my mind to freely cogitate due to the lack of deliberation the task required.

I swivelled around in Yoongi’s chair, facing the evidently fatigued man. “I’m almost done with this sequence though, give me ten?”

He let loose an excessive groan of frustration at being unable to retire for the day, tousling his unkempt locks before collapsing on the worn down bench in front of Namjoon’s desk. I hummed a catchy melody as I continued to scribble down the results from each experiment.

“Now that I have you all to myself,” I gingerly began, stealing a glance at Jin’s unmoving form, “I wanted to properly apologize for everything.”

He raised his arms to cushion his skull against the tough surface, which I took as a sign to continue. “Yoongi might have already told you about my poor attempts to make amends with everyone and I haven’t had the opportunity to sit down with you yet so,” I paused, taking a second to inhale and gather my thoughts, “better late than never, right?

“I shouldn’t have turned my back on you guys when all you do is look out for me,” I sincerely confessed. “I guess I took advantage of how comfortable I felt around you, but I realize that it was unacceptable to treat you as my friend when we’re at work and you’re acting as my boss. I crossed a line and I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to conduct myself accordingly at work.”

A few minutes of devastating silence trickled by. My mind was whirring with all the possibilities of Jin’s next actions; whether he would flip out and rage, simply march back out the door or if he’d fallen asleep and hadn’t heard a word I said. Unsurprisingly, when I turned around I was met with the tranquil sight of Jin’s relaxed frame, soft snores circulating in the office.

I swerved over to him, the squeak of the old chair screeching horribly against the tiles of the floor. “Hey, Jin. How about you go home and I’ll make sure to lock up, hm?”

His eyes fluttered open into slits and I could see the gears whirring in his half-conscious state. To seal the deal, I threw out a cheeky smile; one that I knew he couldn’t resist. “Alright, fine. You just,” he was interrupted by a hefty yawn overtaking his speech, “you just need to lock this door and the main entrance. Everything else is already taken care of.”

My eyes lit up at the sight of his keys and I let out a hum in acknowledgement at his instructions, attempting to curb any suspicion.

Jin’s tall stature towered over me when he pushed off on the balls of his feet, standing up to his full height. “And you didn’t need to apologize, Y/N.” My jaw went slack at his confession of having heard my whole spiel and I had to strain my ears in order to pick up the quiet mumble of, “I should be the one begging for forgiveness anyway.”

Before I had the chance to process his words, much less time to compose a well-thought-out response, he brushed past me and discarded the shiny metal on top of my pad of paper. The revving of a car engine came to life, headlights beaming through the window to the left as he sped away.

Although I could have spent much too long trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind Jin’s bewildering statement, the clock was ticking. Ten minutes remained to clean everything up, change outfits, lock both the office and the front door, then book it to the bar.

Prancing through the flashy entrance with mere seconds to spare, I registered the reality that I might have missed a minute detail in my intricate scheme. Whereas the individuals loitering around appeared as though they’d just come from a fashion show, I felt severely underdressed in the tight jeans and oversized sweater I’d worn to work that morning. 

The place was relatively empty, seeing as the night had yet to begin. Nevertheless, I made my way over to the bar stools where I saw Eunmi with a glass in her hand. 

“Eunmi!” After a closer look, I took in the wine coloured body-con she slipped on, complimenting her dyed hair well. But from the forced smile she plastered on, I could tell she hadn’t discovered that lipstick mark from earlier.

“You didn’t go home and change?” She pointed out once I was within earshot, her awkward grin morphing into her mundane scowl. Oddly, I felt more at ease with her evident displeasure than her amiable facade. 

I glanced down at my attire with a slight shrug and pretended to dust off non-existent wrinkles. 

“Tonight’s on you, so let’s start off strong, hm?” If the stench wafting off from her breath was anything to go by, I presumed that she commenced her own pregame at home before arriving. She waved the bartender over, “Two shots.”

He flashed a greasy smile and a nod our way before beginning on our drinks.

“So,” I tried to initiate conversation that hopefully didn’t come off as awkward as I felt, “how’s the pro—”

“Nope, we’re not talking about work here.” Eunmi turned her chin up, rolling her eyes at my apparent nonsense. “I don’t wanna think about that shit hole more than I already have to.”

It was difficult to remain civil in the face of the obvious contempt she harboured in her voice, although I bobbed my head to convey my consent anyway. While racking my brain for any other topics to touch on, I came to the realization that I’d never properly interacted with the surly woman seated beside me; other than asking for directions on the first week and extending a greeting that was rarely reciprocated, I only knew her name and that she enjoyed clicking away on her noisy keyboard for the majority of her days.

Swooping in to the save the definite lull in the discourse, the round-eyed bartender slid over the shots. Eunmi, shockingly, downed the drink as soon as it came into her grasp. In an effort to appear as amiable as possible for the sake of the overarching strategy, I rushed to follow. The abrupt grip on my forearm halted any movement though.

“But, I will say,” Eunmi confidently boomed, puffing her chest and slapping one outstretched palm on the table. If the irked stares the other patrons were giving us right now were enough to kill, I was certain that we’d be ash by now with her outrageous volume overpowering the dull beat of the music. “I am way overworked considering what my job description actually entails. The place wouldn’t even be able to run without me!”

My brow creased as I toned down my own voice in the hopes that she would get the hint. “Oh, uh, of course! And, uh... just as a refresher, how have you been helping out lately again?” Honestly, with the lack of visitors to the lab, assistants having to prepare samples and write reports, Eunmi’s role within the lab puzzled me greatly.

“What haven’t I been doing is probably the better question to ask!” She haughtily spat out, swiping my glass and chugging the liquid down her—most likely burning—throat. Even the narrow glare courtesy of the bartender himself couldn’t stop her from slamming the empty glass on the counter. I smiled apologetically. “I mean, from delivering J3’s documents to manning all the receptionist duties, I wonder what miss Minzi is doing exactly!”

Naturally, my head tilted in curiosity at the unfamiliar name. “J3?”

“I keep telling them; ‘he’s too dangerous’, ‘if he gets out again we’re really in for it’, but who’s about to listen to the too-brilliant-for-her-own-good receptionist? This is exactly how those stupid characters in the horror movies die; they don’t listen to the smart one!” With each argument, her unstable torso swayed back and forth, threatening to completely topple off the barstool a number of times. I placed a hand at her waist in an attempt to keep her upright, although she, very dramatically, slapped it away.

Undeterred by the aggression, I leaned in closer with widened eyes. “Mhm, but I would listen to you, Eunmi. What exactly is J3 though?” I prayed to any higher power that she was too intoxicated to pick up on how desperate I came off in prodding her for information.

She scoffed, “You don’t actually think I’m that dumb, do you?” Her face reared closer to my own, merely centimetres apart at this point, eyes burning holes into my soul and the stench of tequila thick on her breath. “I know what you’re trying to do here, inviting me out to get wasted, even going as far as to pay for it all.”

Panic rose as I nervously chuckled, eyes darting. “I don’t know what you’re getting at?” To relieve some of the perspiration building in my palms, I nabbed the freezing water that remained untouched in front of Eunmi—not so subtly placed there by the bartender.

Licking her lips, she arrogantly leaned back with a cocky smirk plastered across her countenance, “You want to get in my pants.”

Any remaining liquid in my mouth grotesquely flew into the air.

“It’s okay, no need to be embarrassed that I connected the dots. I mean, a lot of people have been in your shoes.” Eunmi expressed, flicking a stray strand away from her forehead. “But I just don’t see you that way.” The look of sympathy she attempted to exude didn’t sit well with me, although I didn’t know whether it was because I could trace where her eyes were drifting to—another drunk guy who’d ripped his shirt off and began spinning the fabric around as if he was some kind of helicopter—or that anything less than hostile was strange look on her.

I was still pondering on whether it was a blessing or a curse that she misinterpreted my intentions so horridly because after downing a couple more shots and a cocktail to top it all off, Eunmi was thoroughly convinced that I was harbouring some intense feelings.

The second time she swiped her pink tongue across her lips, she gracelessly clambered off the barstool. “Don’t worry about it too much; it’s not you, it’s me,” Eunmi drawled out, pointing a well manicured finger to her chest. “It just wouldn’t be fair to you, having to stand next to me all the time when everyone knows there’s absolutely no competition.”

I didn’t realize how many people had entered the club since we’d arrived and I reached out to grab Eunmi’s wrist again, worried at the way she was stumbling away from me. Even though she was a bit of a lousy woman, I wasn’t heartless enough to have Eunmi fend for herself in a pool of sharks, especially when she was heavily intoxicated.

My attempts to restrain her were futile though, as she squirmed away while eyeing the man from before, who had scrambled onto the top of a table and sensually moved his hips to the beat.

“Ooh, I do see something worth banging toni—”

And down she fell.

As I reached over to aid the inebriated receptionist, lifting by her exposed upper arms while wondering just how much alcohol she consumed prior to her arrival. Coming in contact with the unexpectedly damp, sweaty skin impelled me to cringe away from the unpleasant sensation, but I resisted temptation to turn tail and duck out of there for the sake of my goal. 

Eunmi’s whines complaining that she was fine and endeavours to wriggle out of my loose hold only served to further thin my nearly non-existent patience. At this point, I had to conserve as much energy as I could for later on, not expend it all to take care of a toddler that couldn’t seem to stand on her on two feet.

When Eunmi’s visage faded into sickly green shade, I hurriedly yanked her limp body over to the unusually vacant washrooms. Out of seemingly nowhere, another sobbing, disheveled girl wriggled out from beneath the sink, evidently having thrown up there as well. As my nose scrunched up at the fishy odor, the stranger crawled over to Eunmi’s side by the toilet, gently patting her back and cooing at the similar, dreadful state the two were in.

While her focus was on aiming her regurgitation into the toilet, all her efforts in vain with the sheer amount of vomit surrounding her, I took the opportunity to file through her shimmering purse that I held in my clutch. I rummaged around to quickly find the key card, slipping it into the back pocket of my jeans, thankful that despite the change in outfit, she brought along the same bag that she had left work with. 

“Eunmi, I think we should head home now,” I suggested, mildly concerned about her ability to breathe due to her continuous retching. Without waiting for a response, I began dialling the number for a cab.

After she finished emptying all the contents of her stomach and my wallet felt noticeably lighter than when I came in, I detached the weeping girls from one another and took hold of Eunmi’s underarms, dragging her past the dancing masses and plopping her down at the entrance.

“I get that you had a rough day,” I huffed out, taking a seat on a misplaced block of cement, “but did you really have to get so wasted?”

Streaks of her dark mascara decorated her cheeks from her bawling session, swollen eyes staring off into the distance. “Might as well enjoy myself before J3 finally rips my throat out.”

My brows knitted together at the repeated mention of the name, although I wasn’t able to dwell on it for long because I was soon blinded by a pair of bright headlights beaming from a vehicle painted in a distasteful mustard shade. The cab pulled up to the curb and I somehow managed to shove Eunmi into the backseat, forking over another wad of cash as I encouraged her to mumble out an address.

The car sped away and the lingering breeze grounded me, steeling my resolve despite the wet drops spattering onto the sidewalk. It seemed as though even the weather was attempting to foil my immaculate plans and I silently cursed my past self for failing to check the forecast ahead of time.

Deep down, even the possibility of having to endure another day acting clueless to the torment transpiring within my own workplace terrified me. Not even hard-headed Namjoon could deter my unwavering will at this point.

I jogged back to the lab as quickly as my fatigued legs allowed, predictably drained from hauling another person. The adrenaline pumping through my veins was the only tangible factor keeping me going and luckily, powering through the skittish apprehension gripping my mind.

Once the spotless exterior of the lab came into view, I began scouring through the bulky tote bag I lugged around everywhere. My hand ran across a smooth length that I failed to recognize, pulling it out to identify the unknown object. A miniature fishing rod decorated in vibrant red accents emerged.

The toy I bought for Taemin.

Clenching my fist around the rod, determined to save them this time.

Driven now more than ever, I located the keys that Jin entrusted me with earlier, twisting the lock open and slinking inside. The door creaked eerily behind me as I scanned the tenebrous entrance. 

Refraining from switching on the lights, I relied on my muscle memory to sneak off to the changing room and donned the black guise in my locker. I secured a cap on top of my head before creeping up the stairs.

With the staircase enshrouded in darkness, I was forced onto my hands and knees to carefully navigate myself; I tried not to think about how pathetic I looked at the moment.

My hands trembled in the face of the obstacle I had envisioned barging through countless times—and now, I was presented with that very opportunity on a golden platter. Well, with more lying, drunken antics and conniving than intended, but none of that was important in the grand scheme of things.

Taking hold of the key card and pressing it firmly against the reader, the ruby glow blinked green. Success.

I took a tenuous inhale and an even shakier exhale before heading in. Considering the lack of windows, the complete darkness that enveloped the room was expected; hence the downwards tilt of my head and slight adjustment of my cap as I begrudgingly flicked the light switch beside the doorway. Immediately, I covertly surveyed the ceiling for any cameras that could be covered or nudged out of sight.

Oddly enough, none were fixed up there nor were they scattered along the walls. I wearily stepped deeper inside, elated yet distrustful all the same. The number of cameras I passed on the way here was more than I could count on both hands, so I couldn’t imagine they wouldn’t want a single, watchful eye in here.

Just what kind of experiment were they performing here?

Relenting in my inspection, my attention wandered to the middle of the rectangular room. There, on what looked to be a decrepit operating table, laid a human body.

Well, sort of human.

The lack of movement on the other end prompted me to draw in closer, examining the man. I was bewildered at the jet black ears that stood atop the crown of his head, poking out through his dark locks. Hesitantly, I stretched a hand out and tugged on one, watching his face for any sign of cognizance. My heart rate sped up at the confirmation that they were indeed attached to his skull and were undeniably soft to boot.

Examining the rest of his body, which was clad in simply a pair of boxers, I spotted a similar pitch black coloured tail resting beside his left leg. Although I resisted the urge to check if that was real as well, since I was sure that if he was anything like his animal counterpart he wouldn’t take well to the idea of a sudden jerk on his tail. 

I couldn’t help but run my digits along the length of the fur, pleased to find that it was just as fluffy as his ear. The longer I stared, the more confusion swarmed my head. The pads of my index and middle finger came up to rub at my temple, unsure of what I was observing.

Were they trying to fuse the DNA of a human and—

A sudden, horrifying connection fired off in my head, making my heart drop to my gut as I examined the rest of the room. I pleaded for my assumption to be incorrect, just a figment of my bereaved brain.

Resting on the floor in one corner of the room was a sheet, draped upon an indistinguishable object. With bated breath, I staggered over to the lump and pinched the fabric, lifting the sheet off and uncovering what lay beneath.

Taemin.

My chest tightened and I felt claustrophobic in the spacious room, as if the walls were closing in and I could no longer afford the luxury of a breath. Salty tears welled up, slipping down my cheeks as I quietly wailed, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Through the blurry haze, my gaze travelled along his tiny body that was missing patches of fur, making parts of his pale, bruised skin visible. Another sob wracked through my body as I looked to his face and met a pair of dull, emerald green eyes; they were devoid of life, staring aimlessly at the wall. They didn’t even have the decency to lower his eyelids.

Instead of shock, a sort of numbness filled me—which was a thousand times more terrifying. I longed for the rich emotion that blazed through every orifice of my body, anything other than the apathetic desolation that halted my waterworks.

With one last glance, I shut his eyes and allowed the muscles to remain in their relaxed position. My heart yearned to give him some semblance of a proper burial, although I reminded myself that his young, playful spirit no longer occupied this empty carcass. After smoothing my palm over the side of his head and giving my final goodbyes, I covered his unmoving form once again.

I used the corner of my sleeve to wipe away any evidence of my anguish and turned my attention back to the man on the table. At the very least, I would save one life tonight.

Upon further inspection, I noted the chains cuffing his limbs to the table, which made me wonder about the threat he might pose if released—something I hadn’t taken into account. A quick scan of the room gave no clues as to anything that could free him, prompting me to forage through the few lab benches scattered around.

The mess of papers, test tubes and syringes made it difficult to locate anything, I doubted if even the head researchers could rifle through this mess to uncover something of use. A common theme among all the stacks I came across was the name, J3, scrawled across each of them; the familiar name that Eunmi brought up earlier that night piqued my interest. But, I stuck to the mission at hand, stressed from being on borrowed time.

Irritation settled into my features with each tick of the clock, coming up empty at the bottom of each bench I scoured. Through pure coincidence, I made out the gentle skitter of metal bouncing across the floor after making contact with the front of my sneaker. I grinned and scooped up a key

After stumbling back over to the table, I scrutinized his distinct features, defined brows resting above his closed eyes, enhanced by thick lashes. Travelling over his high cheekbones and down the slope of his nose, I inspected his thin lips complimented by the tiny mole underneath and framed by a strong jawline. I found his countenance oddly familiar, as though I’d seen him somewhere befo—

A hollow chuckle escaped my lips.

It was the burglar.

Of course, perks of moving into a small town right? You’d get to know everyone, even the criminals!

My eyes roamed over to his side where an atrocious attempt at first aid was located, the torn skin peeking through slivers of the bandages. Bright pops of colour laid in a few different spots, courtesy of the Hello Kitty band-aids he’d stolen from my drawer back home. The sight of the white cat on the well-built man almost made me burst into a round of giggles, but the dried, crusted blood reminded me of the gravity of the situation.

Any remaining resentment I harboured fled with my next exhale, leaving pity in its exchange.

In reality, I didn’t sustain any injuries from the scuffle and all I’d lost were a couple of first aid supplies. While in this rare compassionate state, I also reluctantly forgave him for the hassle brought about from my broken lock.

Even if he probably snipped a few years off my life with the stress from the encounter—resulting in the growth of a couple white hairs, no one deserved to be screeching out their lungs in pain every day.

I deftly unlocked each lock confining his wrists and ankles and stepped back to admire my handiwork when I processed just how ripped the guy was, strength bulging out every crevice of his body. All I could think about was how the hell I was going to transport this hulking mass of pure muscle out of here. 

The idea of plunking him onto the cart I prepared earlier and wheeling him all the way home was tempting, but other than all the little kinks in that plan, most of all, I didn’t think it would be too comfortable with his current state adorning his body.

Then came the crippling realization that I couldn’t handle this on my own.

Thus, I retrieved some clean bandages from one of the benches, deciding that it would be best to snatch a few tranquilizers for my own safety as well and returned to his side.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through my short list of contacts before locating his name. As the device began to ring, I reached across the stranger’s lithe body to unravel the old dressing, nearly consumed in reddish-brown dye at this point, to replace them with new ones.

The chime ended, indicating that the receiver had been picked up, before he asked, “Y/N? Why’re you calling so late?”

I began to place the gauze on some of his superficial wounds. “Hey, so, um... long story?”

[karajaynetoday]

and I can't stop that long forgotten feeling of her | ashton irwin

Here we go again with the emo angst! Thanks so much to everyone who has shared and sent feedback on the other parts. You can read part one here and part two here, and also part four here once you’ve finished with this bit. 

Part three is inspired by Flame Trees (originally by Australian band Cold Chisel in 1984, but I would absolutely recommend listening to the cover by Sarah Blasko which I had on repeat while working on this piece). All of the italics in this piece are lyrics from the song. 

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here

Trigger warning for mentions of death of a family member (non-graphic), a funeral and cremation.

Word count: 2.3k words

(This is a fem reader insert)

Kids out driving Saturday afternoon just pass me by | And I'm just savouring familiar sights

The drive to the church is quiet. Ashton insisted on driving you and your siblings, and despite your protests, he’d gotten his way. You were daydreaming out the window, pondering how everyone else in the world was just getting on with their lives when yours still felt so dark and painful. You’d spent your whole life driving and wandering these streets, and the houses and the trees and the footpaths felt like home. But then again, you’d never lived anywhere else, so where else would you feel like you belonged? 

You glanced over at Ash, who has one hand on the wheel. Does he feel at home here, you wonder? Does his heart feel settled when he drives in from the airport? Does he breathe in the air and breathe out his stress? Does he think of this place often? When he thinks of home, does he think of you? 

You catch yourself staring at Ashton, admiring how he runs one hand through his curls, and quickly returned to staring out your own window and continue your daydream. You’re rehearsing your eulogy in your head, when you feel a gentle hand brush over your own, and Ash slips his fingers between yours over the car’s centre console and gives your hand a squeeze. He’s got that soft smile on his face that you know for a fact can light up a whole room, but there’s a solemness about him today. The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes; and you notice the dark circles on his face for the first time. Had you been so lost in yourself that you hadn’t seen how everything was bearing down on everyone around you? But then again, that was just it: everything was bearing down and you couldn’t see how it would stop deepening the gloominess you felt in your soul.  

We share some history, this town and I | And I can't stop that long forgotten feeling of her

Even though you’d rehearsed it in your head and in front of the mirror, stepping up to the podium and staring out at the faces everyone who was gathered to honour your mother’s memory made a lump rise in your throat and tears prick in your eyes. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply, and grasped the hands of your siblings who stood by your side. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Ashton, staring back at you with a sympathetic look. He nodded at you, mouthing words of encouragement, and with that you were able to begin.

How sad it was, that she’d been taken so soon. How incredible it was, that she’d raised three children on her own, and always made birthdays and Christmases so special. How funny it was, that she always joked about her funeral being on the warmest winter day. How proud you were, to be her daughter and carry on her memory and her name. 

How sad it was, but how glad you were. To be in this room, and in this town, with so many people that loved her and loved your family like their own. To be able to talk together and laugh together and just remember. 

Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver | And there's nothing else could set fire to this town

Ashton drove you home again in the gentle silence you’d had on the way there. Your siblings had opted to stay at friends’ houses for the night, wanting a change of scenery and some company to make them feel a bit normal again. You couldn’t blame them; every part of your house reminded you of her. From the cushions on the couch that she’d embroidered, or her favourite mug she always used for her morning cup of coffee, or the little succulents she’d planted in pots and scattered on every windowsill that got full sun at some point during the day. She was everywhere, and it should’ve been comforting, but all you wanted to do was pack it all away and not think about it because surely you couldn’t keep feeling this sad. Not forever.

When Ashton pulled into the driveway, you hesitated before unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Can you.. Do you want to come in? For a cuppa?” You mumbled, not quite meeting Ashton’s eyes, as you leaned forward to grab your bag from the floor of the passenger seat.

“Of course, love. I’m in no rush.”

You busied yourself in the kitchen, filling the kettle and finding two mugs and mulling over your extensive tea bag selection before settling on a chamomile for yourself and a green tea for Ashton, because he’d been telling you about how his yoga instructor back in Los Angeles ensured they all drank a cup of it after each class. You could hear Ash shuffling around in the lounge room, and when you came in with the two cups of tea in your hands, you found him flipping through the stack of vinyl records your mother kept on a bookshelf. 

You settled down onto the couch, resting Ashton’s mug on the coffee table and taking a long sip of your own brew. You chuckled softly, as you noticed his eyes lighting up in excitement as he examined each new vinyl in the stack.

“Dude, have you looked at these?! Alanis Morrissette, Pink Floyd, Soundgarden?! Your mum had fuckin’ sick taste.” Ashton mused happily, reaching over to grasp his cup of tea and raise it to you in a gesture of thanks. 

“Oh, I know. And she knew it, too… keep going, you might find some more things of interest in that pile.” You said softly, a sad smile etched on your face. Eventually, Ash found his own band’s album on vinyl in the stack and he looked up at you, surprised.

“What? As if she wouldn’t add you to the collection. She was so excited when she found out you were releasing things on vinyl.” 

Ash carefully placed all the records back onto the shelf, and sat down next to you on the couch. He stretched out his arm above your shoulders, and you instinctively leaned into his warmth. 

“I know, I always thought of her when we talked about pressing vinyl for the albums, but I just… seeing it in the living room, where we used to blast Cold Chisel and INXS and Silverchair and dance around like idiots til she’d yell it us to go to bed, makes it feel like that was a million years ago, you know?” 

“That’s because it was, Ash. When you’re only 26, ten years ago does feel like a million.” You said quietly, fiddling with the cup in your hands. “You should pick out your favourite records and take them back home with you. She’d like that.”

You can feel Ashton’s gaze on you, and you turn your head to look him in the eye. He looks perplexed. 

“What? Where are you in that great, complicated, genius mind of yours?” You asked, prodding him in the side. He grabs your hand, and kisses it softly. “You said I should take them back home with me. But… I feel at home right now, with you.” Ash whispered, like he was almost afraid of his own words. You felt your heart start to beat faster, and you squeeze his hand tightly. 

“Then stay. At least… stay for tonight. Stay home with me.” You whispered back, and then suddenly Ashton’s lips are on yours and it’s much more heated than a few nights ago out on the couch in Neverland, and you can almost feel the desperate sense of hopelessness in Ashton’s embrace. You let yourself get lost in the warmth and the pleasure and the feeling because it’s the first thing you’ve felt other than sadness and despair in months before you realise that you’re basically straddling Ashton and tugging on his shirt and then suddenly you catch yourself and pull away.

“I’m sorry, I can’t - I can’t do this.” You stutter out, feeling the panic rising in your chest. Almost like he can feel it, Ashton reaches out and runs his arms up and down your sides reassuringly. 

“It’s okay, love. You’re fine. I shouldn’t have done that, I just got a bit caught up. Being here, with you, with the vinyls, after everything… I just need you to know that I lo-”

“NO.” You almost bark, pushing yourself up off the couch and stalking down the hall towards your bedroom.

“Wait, you can’t just -” Ashton began, rushing to catch up with you.

“What, Ashton?! I can’t WHAT?!” You spat, spinning on your heel to face him. “I can’t walk away after you tell me you love me? After you promise me that you won’t leave me? After you tell me I feel like home?!” You wanted to sound harsh and cold, but your voice broke on the last few words. 

You felt your knees buckle underneath you, and you slid down your bedroom door as the angry tears began to fall. Ashton sat quietly beside you, and you could tell he was hesitant to say anything for fear of upsetting you more.

“It’s not fair. You know it’s not.” You sniffled, wiping your face on your sleeve. 

“I know. I never wanted this to happen. Not to us.” Ashton spoke, his voice laced with sadness.

“Can you just… stay, just for tonight? And then in the morning we can be adults and talk about our issues and sort out our lives. I don’t want to guilt-trip you, buuuut my mother DID just die so it’d be bloody wonderful if my best friend could lend me his body heat and maybe whisper some reassuring phrases to me while I sleep.” You tried to lighten the mood, feeling your sadness and anger start to dissipate as Ashton laughed. Honestly, that laugh. What you would do to hear it every day. 

“Of course I can, sunshine. Lead the way.” Ash stood and pulled you to your feet, and you opened your bedroom door and lead him inside. You were both quiet, as you undressed for bed, and still quiet as you pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. But then again, with Ash, you didn’t always need words. You just needed each other. 

Ashton’s arm found your waist and pulled your body into his gently, as he snuggled into your shoulder. You felt your eyes start to droop, and your breathing start to even out in sync with Ashton’s, and you fell into one of the deepest sleeps you’d had in years. 

And I'm happy just to sit here a table with old friends | And see which one of us can tell the biggest lies

The next few days, you began and ended your days like that: peaceful and calm in Ashton’s arms. You’d heard him on the phone early one morning, arguing with someone about rescheduling something-or-other, and you knew that he’d have to leave you soon. But somehow, despite all of the sadness of the past few weeks, you felt better about letting him go than you had all those years ago. Something in the air had changed, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but you just knew that things would be okay.

On Thursday, the funeral home called to say that your mother’s ashes were ready for collection. You managed to drive there yourself without any issues, and it seemed very strange that one of your favourite people were now reduced to small particles in a fancy silver jar-looking-thing, but you collected them nonetheless.

Your mother had grown up about an hour away from where you lived now, and after her diagnosis she talked to you about wanting her ashes scattered in a field in the mountains, so her mortal and immortal souls could join and be at peace in the place where she began her life all those years ago. So the next morning, after a short breakfast, you and your siblings drove up into the Blue Mountains, searching for the perfect place to commemorate the woman you all loved so much. Ashton and his family joined you, driving in convoy, and when you parked up alongside a grassy field where you could see a trickling creek and the sunlight peeking through the old, tall trees, they followed suit and joined you at the fence line on the side of the road. 

One by one, your siblings took turns scattering the ashes, before handing the silver urn to you for the last part. You closed your eyes, and tipped out the urn, whispering under your breath like she was there to hear you. And in that moment, you felt like she was. Because the wind seemed to still, and the sun broke through the clouds, and you were there with those who knew and loved her the most, so of course she would be there too. 

And that’s when you knew, that no matter if you stayed in the house with her cushions and her plants and her vinyl records, or if you followed your heart to the other side of the world, that she’d always be with you. Because she was in your heart, and home is where the heart is. 

There's no change, there's no pace | Everything within its place | Just makes it harder to believe that she won't be around

More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here

[mysterioh]

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 8

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

Synopsis: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge in art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist

The Language of the Arts

This is awkward. 

“So,” you spoke up, eyes strictly focused on the painting in front of you, hating the silence standing in between. “Nice weather we’re having." 

"Yeah,” Steve said, his voice was stiff with a hint of nervousness. “Really cold." 

"You like winter?" 

"No, not really.”

“I do,” you said, folding your hands behind your back and tiptoeing up and down. “It’s a great time to do cozy things, y'know? Like watching movies and drinking hot cocoa." 

"I guess it’s nice if you think of it that way,” he shrugged with a small smile. “I usually just think of how cold and dark it is." 

"I like that too, to be honest,” you replied. “I don’t know why, but I just do." 

"All the more reason to do cozy things I suppose?” he chuckled in your direction. 

You turn to him and smile. “Yeah, I guess so." 

His gaze lingers for a while before he snaps his head back towards the painting like he forgot he wasn’t supposed to be staring. Your smile falters a bit and it’s kind of annoying how different he’s acting. You liked the obnoxious version of him more.  

"So, uh,” he clears his throat, “how ya been?" 

"Good,” you nodded. “You?" 

He shrugged. Miserable "I’m fine,” he replied. “How’s your boyfriend?” He asked, straining to sound nice. 

“Oh, he’s fine,” you said. 

It’s awkward again and neither of you knows what to do. He just had to be there when you had to be there. In a city of over two million, the odds of meeting the same stranger more than once were less than likely and yet you’ve met this oaf far more times than you needed to. The universe was scheming something.

“Another art project?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “I wouldn’t be here if  it wasn’t." 

"Your hatred for art is something I’ll never understand,” he shook his head. 

“People like different things. I don’t like art, deal with it,” you jabbed. 

Steve puts his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying. It’s just, I don’t know – when I see something like this there’s this bubbly feeling I get on the inside. And it just doesn’t make sense to me that someone can’t see it the way I do." 

"I know how you feel,” you said. “But with science." 

Steve’s shoulders drop. "But science is boring." 

"It is not!” You retorted then sighed. “I guess someone as simple-minded as you wouldn’t get it,” you shake your head. 

“Or maybe someone as close-minded as you wouldn’t understand where I’m coming from,” he snapped back playfully. 

“I am not close-minded!" 

"Yes, you are,” Steve said. “You don’t actually try to connect with the art. You’re just trying to get an A. Maybe if you open your mind a bit and really let the art speak to you, you’ll appreciate it more and even get a better grade." 

"Are you trying to tell me I’m stupid?" 

"Not in the least,” he said with a chuckle coloring his words. “You’re probably really smart, smarter than me. All I’m trying to say is that maybe you should try stepping out of your comfort zone? Try something you don’t like or want to do. You never know you might actually like it." 

He gives you a charmingly crooked smile as he urges you to try it. You pry away from his gaze with a huff. He hit the mark when he said you needed to get out of your comfort zone, but he didn’t need to call you out on it. 

"Fine,” you replied with a groan, returning to the painting. He smiled gently before speaking.  

“Pygmalion and Galatea by Jean Leon Gerome,” he said. “I personally find this painting filled with passion for obvious reasons. The way he kisses her as she transforms into a human. His dreams come true at that moment. He’s never felt more alive in his life." 

"Personally, I think he’s a jerk. I know the story of Pygmalion and Galatea. I used to be really into mythology a while back,” you told him. “Pygmalion was a self-imposed lonely sculptor. He didn’t like mortal women because he thought they were flawed so he made a statue of what a perfect woman should be like. Aphrodite noticed how much he loved the statue so she brought her to life." 

Steve chuckled. "Then what do you think the painting’s about?" 

"Male superiority.” You stated, looking into the picture. “Look at how pure and delicate Galatea looks, isn’t that every man’s dream girl?" 

"I see where you’re coming from,” Steve chimed in. “Notice the sculptures in the back. One is of a woman with her child which could represent the role of a mother that’s pressed upon them. The other is of a woman looking into a mirror and I think that symbolizes vanity. How women only really need to worry about their appearance and how it should please men. It’s how society wants us to be or at least in a man’s eye.”

“Then there’s Pygmalion, muscular and thriving in his own creativity and imagination. The ideal for any man at the time,” you put your hands on your hips. You know the more we keep talking about this, the more I’m starting to hate it.“ 

"Nothing wrong with that,” Steve shrugged. “I thought that was rather impressive - coming from you that is." 

You growl under your breath and push him off balance. He chuckles, only making you cross your arms annoyed. 

"I actually see it differently,” Steve said. 

You raise a brow and turn to him. “How so?" 

"It’s like the roles have been switched. Pygmalion’s reaching up to Galatea since she’s up on a pedestal. While she has to crouch down for his affection. Although we can’t ignore the fact that she is his creation, we know she possesses all of his love because he’s invested every part of him into her. His heart, soul, and mind, it all belongs to her. She possesses his idolization and can make him do whatever she wants,” he said. 

You bring a hand to your cheek. “That makes sense. I like that interpretation more." 

"It makes you feel pity for Pygmalion almost. He’s blind and naive in his devotion to her. If that was the painter’s intent, I think he did a good job by adding the theatrical masks in the corner.” You pointed. “Cause it isn’t reality. The emotions when you’re on stage are only skin deep.  Even if Galatea may show love and affection towards Pygmalion, it’s not real and it never will be. Whatever emotions she holds will always be artificial. But the way he kisses and holds her shows that he believes Galatea’s love is sincere, and it makes you pity the guy. Everyone has a weakness and his is the desire to love." 

"I feel exposed,” Steve mumbled. 

“What?" 

"Nothing,” he said. “I’m honestly amazed by your analysis." 

You snorted. "I’m smarter than you, remember?” You teased and he rolled his eyes. “And thanks to you I don’t have to bang my head against the wall for the next three hours. Thanks, I guess you were right. I ended up liking it,” you said with a sheepish smile. 

“I’m glad I could help." 

Your eyes lock with his and you really look at them. Like it’s the first time you’ve seen him. You noticed the way his eyebrows raised a centimeter or two, lined between confusion and wonderment, his eyes twinkled in amusement as if he knew something you didn’t. They were like the ocean, so full of life yet so uncertain. The blue-green hue residing within pulling you deeper into the currents. 

Staring isn’t exactly the word Steve would use. Your eyes rest, not unblinking but slowed; the effect is soft and inviting instead of harsh. Perhaps it’s your lips that give away the intention, not quite smiling but tilting as if they do. 

As if you’re telling him to stay a little longer. It’s unspoken, but sometimes words aren’t needed. And he’d stay if you wanted him to, let you pull him deeper into the vast expanse of your eyes, glazed like honey and warmer than a summer breeze. 

He snapped out of his thoughts. There he goes again. Your lips part to say something, but Steve says something first. 

"I should go,” he said. 

“Oh,” you said in disappointment. “Thanks for helping,” you give him a smile. “See ya around then?" 

"Yeah, just be careful next time?" 

"I’ll make sure to,” you chuckled. “Have a nice day.”

He turned on his heel and waved goodbye. You smiled at him and waved back. The minute he turns away from you completely, the smiles on both of your faces fall instantly and it’s like you’ve lost something you never had.  

“Sweetheart, I ain’t a bad guy. I’ll be nothing but good to you." 

His smooth voice whistled in your ears. Another groan escaped your lips and you slammed your head against the cool metal surface of the kitchen table. 

Usually, the kitchen at Urban Remedy was a chaotic mess. Complete with shouting chefs and frolicking waitresses, sizzling pans and the clatter of dishes. But as the day began to wind down, so did business allowing its workers to catch a break. 

"I know this isn’t the best place to work, but-” your head shot up at the sound of your boss’ sassy voice. 

“Oh no,” you replied sheepishly. “I was just-" 

"I’m just joking,” May chuckled. She leaned over the table. “What’s wrong sister? Someone didn’t tip you well enough?" 

"No, it’s not that,” you chuckled while sitting straight up. “Just life I guess." 

"Lemme guess it’s a guy,” she laid it on the table. Your cheeks heated. 

“Dost mine ears deceive me?” Wanda popped her head in through the door. “Our residential man-hater has a guy problem?" 

"Where did you come from?" 

"I have super hearing,” the girl said, taking a seat next to you. She shakes your arm in excitement. “Now spill." 

"First off, it’s not a guy,” you lied. “I’m just in a bind is all." 

"Sweetheart,” May said, “you’re not fooling anyone." 

"It’s not!” You insisted. 

They replied with doubtful looks and a roll of the eyes. 

“It’s that cute guy that comes to visit sometimes, right?” Wanda asked. “The one with the old man name?" 

You snorted. "No, Quentin is Quentin. He’s not a guy." 

"So there is a guy, but he’s not your friend,” May conjectured. 

You exhaled deeply, feeling annoyed by them and yourself. 

“Okay, there’s a guy,” you grumbled. 

Wanda bounced in her chair while clapping her hands. “I knew it! Is he cute?" 

"I don’t know!” you retorted. Your eyes flit towards May and she’s smiling, pulling all the juicy details out of you. “Okay, maybe a little,” you mumbled and they giggled like children “But I don’t like him or anything!" 

"He wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t,” May smirked, resting her chin in her hand. 

“It’s not like that,” you look away with a sigh. “You ever just want to stay away from something but end up getting closer? Like you want nothing to do with them but they pull you in regardless?" 

"Me with cats,” Wanda said. You turn to her puzzled. “What? I’m allergic to cats, but they’re so cute." 

"Seems like you’re in quite the predicament,” May chuckled. 

“You know a way out?" 

"Nope,” she deadpanned, “but you better get yourself out there cause I just heard the door open.” She pointed behind her with a chuckle. 

You stand with a groan and make your way to the front. 

“Hey,” Wanda called you back, “I think you should just follow your heart.” You rolled your eyes. If that isn’t the stupidest thing -“I know what you’re thinking but try it out? I mean it might be uncomfy at first but it could be worth it?" 

You shoot her a smile and a nod. "I’ll try,” you said pushing past the door and into the hall, to find a boy standing by the counter with his back to you. 

“Welcome in, how can I help you?” you asked as you approached him. 

The boy turned and you could’ve sworn you’ve seen him before. And by the way he looks at you, mouth agape and eyes wide, you probably did. 

It’s like Peter’s memory has been swiped clean and he doesn’t even know what language is anymore as he stands in front of you.

“Uhm?” You asked, totally not judging him.  

“Oh Peter,” May said from behind you. “You’re here!" 

TAG LIST: @ashwarren32​ @rootcrop​ @siriusement​ @savedbystark​ @great-goddess-of-sin​ @boxofteenageideas​ @little-dark-empress​ @imsonick​ @scuzmunkie​ @achishisha​ @chuckennuggets1213​ @captainchrisstan​

[steves-on-a-plane]

I’m The Love That You’ve Looked For (Pt 1)

Words: 1239 Pairing: Bruce Banner x Reader Summary: Reader is Tony Stark’s sister and he is constantly trying to fix her up on blind dates. One night he convinces her to come out to Karaoke Night with the Avengers. After so many failed attempts did Tony actually get it right this time?

“[Y/N], what are you doing tonight?” You glanced away from your computer monitor to see that your older brother Tony had waltzed into your office. He threw himself onto your couch in the casual way that only Tony Stark could.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. You seized the opportunity to roll your neck, attempting to relieve some of the tension in your shoulders. “I’ll probably be here, still finalizing my quarterly budget so that I can get it sent over to accounting. Someone’s got to make sure we can afford to keep the lights on.”  You glanced back on the spreadsheet front and center on your monitor wondering how much longer your brother’s distraction would last.

“I have Pepper for that.” Tony shrugged. “You should get a Pepper.” He suggested as if the thought had never occurred to you. You rolled your eyes and moved your hands to hover over your keyboard.

“I’m a Stark.” You shrugged. “I’m too much of a control freak to trust someone else with my work.” With one hand on your mouse you returned to your work.

“Suit yourself.” Tony leaped to his feet. “But you’re coming out with me tonight.”

“No, Tony I can’t. I have too much to do.” You insisted.

“It’s not up for debate.” He shook his head. “I already RSVPed for you and there’s someone special I promised you’d be there!”

“Not another blind date!” You complained. “Tony I can’t…” But as you looked away from the monitor Tony was already gone. “Of all the brothers in all the world.” You shook your head.

At five thirty on the dot Tony was back, leaning in your doorway, looking down at you expectantly. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t leaving unless you left with him. You could have easily stayed in the office most of the night, but you knew that eventually you’d have to eat and the provisions in your snack drawer wouldn’t last you very long.

“Can I at least go home and change first?” You sighed, powering down your computer.

“I knew you’d come.” Tony smirked confidently from the doorway while he waited for you to gather your things. “Now, be nice to this one. I really think you’re going to like him.”

“You always say that.” You reminded him. “And I never like them.”

“This one is different. I can feel it.” He promised you excitedly.

You arrived at the address that Tony had given you, unsurprised to discover that it was a bar. Your brother was standing outside impatiently checking his phone. Shouldering your purse and holding back and eyeroll, you exited your car and joined him.

“Worried I wouldn’t show?” You called out to him.

“Uh, a little bit.” He admitted. “You’re ten minutes late!”

“It’s drinks with your friends and a blind date Tony. Ten minutes isn’t going to ruin anyone’s night.” You assured him.

“It’s karaoke night!” He exclaimed before leading the way into the bar shaking his head as he walked. “You don’t know how hard it was to get the two of you in one place together. Now c’mon, he’s getting anxious and remember be nice to him!” As you followed Tony through the bar you realize it was mostly empty.

“Jeez, did you rent the whole place out?” You asked following him to the drink counter.

“Yup. The team tries to get together whenever we can. Cap says it promotes synergy or something. So, it’s just you, me and y’know a handful of Avengers.” Tony shrugged.

“Oh well, if that’s all.” You teased him with a quiet laugh.

“There you are.” Tony pointed to the one man sitting alone at a barstool in the back of the venue. He was facing the bartender. “His name is Bruce. Be nice.”

“I hear you, I hear you.” You held up your hands to show your brother that you came in peace. His message was understood loud and clear. You walked towards the bar and quietly mumbled to himself. “Be nice! Where does he get off telling me to be nice?” You ordered a drink from the bartender and sat down. Bruce looked up to see who’d come to join him.

“[Y/N]? [Y/N] Stark?” He asked.

“Yes. Tony says you’re Bruce.” You offered him a hand to shake, which he took with a smile.

“What else has he told you about me?” Bruce asked nervously.

“Honestly, Tony tries to fix me up on blind dates all the time.” You sighed. “He always has these elaborate reasons why he thinks I should date this friend or that coworker, but all he really said about you was that you were different. It piqued my interest.”

“Well, I’m glad I could provide you with entertainment for the evening.” Bruce commented before sipping from his glass.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” You insisted. “I just meant you seem…normal. Tony doesn’t do normal. Can I get you another drink?” She indicated his half empty glass.

“I’m fine for now.” He said as the bartender placed a pina colada in front of you. Bruce couldn’t seem to contain his laughter. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t know that any one actually drank those.”

“Pina Coladas?” You asked, sipping from the straw. “Haven’t you ever wanted to just close your eyes, sit back and pretend you’re on a tropical island somewhere?”

“Couldn’t you afford to actually go to a tropical island whenever you wanted?” He questioned.

“financially maybe, but if I did that as often as I liked, there’d be no one around to keep Tony in line.”  You looked over your shoulder to where your brother was flipping through a catalog of karaoke songs.

“You know, he’s not as helpless as he pretends to be.” Bruce commented. He also turned around to watch Tony.

“That’s entirely the problem.” You told Bruce. “He wants everyone to think he’s this fun devil-may-care type who stumbles into success after success, but he’s so calculating and cynical that he’s one step away from accidentally being on the other side of this whole thing.”

“Well what does that make you?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” You smirked, sipping from your drink again. You both watched as Tony put the song catalog down and picked up a microphone. He’d found the song he was looking for. Soon you could hear the steady heartbeat like drums of Black Sabbath’s Iron Man. As the guitar picked up so did the vocals.

“I am Iron Man.” Tony announced slightly off beat with the backing track.

“I would actually.” Bruce said over Tony’s offkey sing-shouting.

“Hmm?” You looked away from your brother and back at him.

“You asked if I’d like to get to know you better. I would.” He confessed. You sipped from your drink again which gave you an idea.

“Sing with me.” You told him. “If you get up there and sing a song of my choice in front of everyone, then we’ll get out of here and get to know each other a little bit better.”

“You serious?” He laughed.

“Dead.” You nodded. “Besides a person’s favorite song can tell you a lot about them.”

“And just what is your favorite song?” He asked, surprised that you’d piqued his own interests.

“I’ll let you take a guess.” You placed your now half gone Pina Colada back on the bar and headed over to the song book Tony had recently discarded.

[secretradiobrooklyn]

Radio Decameron |1.16.21 & 1.23.21

Secret Radio | 1.16.21 & 1.23.21 | Hear it here.

1. Sylvain Sylvain - “I’m So Sorry”

I never feel right saying “RIP” or “rest in peace” about an actual human being who is no longer with us. But I will say: I hope Sylvain Sylvain died content with the music he made and the life he lived. 

2. The Honeydrippers - “Impeach the President”

And ideally, then we would never have to hear from or talk about that accursed criminal ever again. We recorded this section before the inauguration — may we never forget how ALL 50 STATE CAPITOLS plus the US Capitol itself were being guarded against attacks by American citizens on that day — and shit was tense there for many days. As of this writing, things are… unviolent. It feels like a lull to me, honestly, rather than, say, all that stuff being in the rearview. It is not. 

But meanwhile, check that beat out!  

I love how Roy Charles is trying to convince them to stop demanding, but they just keep insisting. This song is brilliant, and the playing is — c’mon now — unimpeachable.

3. Niagara - “Tchiki boum”

We heard this song in the film “Perdrix,” known as “The Bare Necessity” in the version we saw via SLIFF. They’re dancing in a club to this, and it’s just a really distractingly good song for the scene.

- C.K. Mann - “Mber Papa”

We just recently learned about Essiebons by learning that he passed just this August. He was a producer of legendary status to a lot of people. Listening around his music we came upon C.K. Mann and this righteous track, which Essiebons produced. I think this is a pretty ultra track, really. Every instrument really kicks it out. I hope Essiebons died happy.

4. Rocky Horror Picture Show - “Hot Patootie / Bless My Soul”

New president, feeling kinda upbeat and hopeful. Really just starting to feel the tips of my soul from where it’s been getting singed. It’s going to take a long time to scab over what happened to us all over the last four years. I’m so fucking glad he’s gone that it makes me really love that rock n roll!

5. Moon Unit & Frank Zappa - “Valley Girl”

Tell you what: we watched the movie “Zappa” recently as part of a film festival, and I highly recommend watching it at your earliest opportunity. It is absolutely for people who do, and for people who do not, love his music. He shows up as a really interesting character throughout his whole life. The film skips through his songs with amazing speed, which actually works really well in his case. This song is with his daughter Moon Unit, who actually slid a handwritten note under his door introducing herself by name and saying that she wanted to collaborate on a project. They did this, and while Zappa was in Europe, Moon Unit brought the acetates to KROC and the song became an instant hit for them. Meanwhile he was writing for multiple orchestras.

6. Jacques Dutronc - “Sur Une Nappe de Restaurant” 

This is totally not how I tune my drums, but I love how Dutronc’s drums sound in every song. I mean, the whole band of course, but there is a physical space both in the drum part as written and in the recorded texture of the whole that is just deep and wide.

7. Nyame Bekyere - “Medley: Broken Heart / Aunty Yaa / Omo Yaba (Nzema)”

This is another discovery via Essebiens, who released it on Essiebons Enterprises. It’s such an intense track! The cover artwork is by K. Frimpong, who plays a crazy Cuban guitar style on his own albums. 

8. Ros Serey Sothea - “Tngai Neas Kyom Yam Sra (Today I Drink Wine)”

This is a voice, and a cast of characters, I can’t stop thinking about. This is from “Cambodian Rocks Vol 1,” which is full of great recordings. Her voice could shatter glass, and it’s so skillfully wielded — I’d love to hear her in a face-off with Frankie Valli.

- There’s a moment from Paige’s phone archives of a little George and Isabelle aching to ride rides at the Millstadt homecoming.

9. Les Poppys - “Isabelle je t’aime” 

These young boys singing collectively about their — collective? 17 individual? — love(s) for Isabelle is even more innocent in video format:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o618mlIaR7E

- more C.K. Mann - “Mber Papa”

10. The Jam - “In the City”

This song makes me miss the city so much! It sounds like everything we really can’t get up to right now. I feel like this song helps me feel like I’m walking fast under streetlights.

11. Bruno Leys - “Maintenant je suis un voyou”

This 7” from Born Bad is so incredible! Bruno Leys worked on just a few songs with a band that included a guy named Emmanuel Pairault who plays parts on an instrument called the ondes Martenot, a super early, very eclectic and ungainly electronic instrument. The fact that he could actually compose music of any kind on it was considered remarkable. The fact that he was able to write such incredibly expressive parts to thoroughly filigree the choruses is what amazes me. 

This band recorded four songs, then Bruno Leys left for his military service, and when he came back it was all completely over — the catalog was sold, everyone was scattered. Four songs. 

12. Sleepy Kitty - “Nothing = You”

I’m pretty sure this song was essentially our response to our own growing fascination with French pop. To me it sounds more French than American in texture. We played this song with the Incurables once at The Pageant in STL and it was especially glorious. I think of that moment — Kevin Bachmann harmonizing flawlessly with Paige, four different guitars ringing through the chords — every time I hear this track.

13. Plastic Bertrand - “Pogo Pogo”

I don’t know why or when “Ça Plane Pour Moi” became the one French pop song that Americans are likely to know, but it’s a total banger so I have no complaints. It turns out that pretty much all of his songs sound very similar — one-note melodies in the verse, cool vocalese hooks in the chorus, and super-driving guitar parts throughout. Turns out that’s a formula we totally dig!

14. Os K-rrascos & Vanessinha Do Picatchu - “Bochecha Ardendo”

For whatever reason, a variety of Brazilian music seemed to be the very hottest stuff to be found in Chicago’s art-school party nights, and I remember losing my mind to some heavy Brazilian rhythms that just kept folding over and over on themselves while staying so impossibly funky that the whole night just turned into a deep-green-and-dark orange smear of a late-night winter warehouse dancing and sweating and then way, way later, walking home steaming along a cold sidewalk on a tree-lined street.

- Eric Dolphy - “Hat and Beard”

15. Von Südenfed - “The Rhinohead” 

I feel like no one in my zone talks enough about how awesome Von Südenfed is. I mean, we only know this one album, but it’s so fascinating — a band where Mark E. Smith is contributing but not in control, and on purpose. He shows off his pop chops and gets to be a whole different character in this one place, while the Mouse on Mars guys get to play new characters themselves. It feels like it’s related to “Extricate” in how it’s constructed, but the music doesn’t sound like something any version of the Fall has made. 

16. Fischer-Spooner - “The 15th”

A friend of Wire is a friend of ours.

p.s. Paige here, they went to SAIC (before I arrived) but they were super famous to all of us in the dorms. 

17. T.P. Orchestre - “Pourquoi Pas?”

The depths of this band just continue to amaze us. We’re waiting on some T.P.O.C. vinyl right now, featuring mostly songs we’ve never heard, and the everlovin’ post office is misdelivering it BACK to France even as I write this. It’s driving us totally nuts.

18. Nina Simone - “Mississippi Goddam”

The hardness of her voice, the hardness of her experience, the hardness of her words.

19. Fanny - “Blind Alley”

I don’t know who first put this in front of my eyes, but it was a few years ago. The video is so basic — they’re performing in front of a video-psych effect — but the performers themselves are just so absorbing. And the production is so heavy, it feels legendary. 

20. Manmadha Leela soundtrack - “Kushalamena”

I think we first saw a colorful glimpse of this song before we heard it. Paige automatically starts dancing a little dance as soon as “Kushalamena” comes on. 

This I think came from the “Now Playing” group I’m in on FB: a guy was holding out a picture of the cover of this album and said he’d bought 40 more like it and he LOVED EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. He just wanted to see if anyone knew anything more about them. I did my best to hear the album he was showing. I think this is it. I think he’s right to be super jazzed about it, we just want to hang out with him and listen to all those records.

21. Francis Bebey - “Je vous aime zaime zaime”

Paige was working on her pronunciation and when to use the ellision — the z sound for the s letter, depending on what comes next — and he said something about, “Unless you’re Francis Bebey and you’re singing ‘Je vous aime zaime zaime.” And she said, “Francis Bebey? I know Francis Bebey!” and he said, “No, you’re thinking of another Francis.” But we all know the truth. This was our introduction to the song though.

- Jack Teagarden - “I Guess I’ll Have to Change My Plan”

Paige was looking for the Fred Astaire & Jack Buchanan version from “The Bandwagon,” but found this great instrumental trombone-forward version instead.

22. Pono AM - "Good Vibes"

This is one of those things you see every once in a great while when you’re playing clubs in a music scene — a band hits a natural home run. They just have an undeniably appealing crowdpleaser of a song that they wrote, and everyone flips out when they hear it. We salute Pono AM for writing this perfect song. They enrich the STL music world. My only advice to them was to never get tired of it or take it for granted. 

Paige: We took their band photos at our space on Cherokee Street, for an RFT article. I was impressed because they arrived with matching shirts that still had the tags on them, and it was really exciting to see a new band on the scene who was really good and also putting in the effort to be graphically interesting. We believe that stuff counts. All of their shows, if you got there early, you’d see all of the band members blowing up as many balloons as they could, so there would be balloons bouncing around their set for the whole show, and it made it even better.

23. Sir Victor Uwaifo And His Titibitis - "Iranm Iran"

Analog Africa has a new album! It’s called “Edo International,” and it shows off a whole other side of Beninese music that isn’t T.P. Orchestre. I think of T.P. Orchestre as just a giant force in Beninese music, but then this comp comes out showing so many other roots of Benin City’s highlife-funk scene. Victor Uwaifo was a Nigerian guitarist who returned to his hometown in Benin City and built Joromi Studio. The sound he put together at that place, via his own bands and others’, came to be called Edo Funk.

24. Laughing Man - "Brilliant Colors"

This is a tape of one of the artists of one of the group houses that we always would stay at in DC. Benjamin Schurr runs a tape label and it was always such a treat getting the new batch of Blight. releases for the van soundsystem when we’d roll through town, or one of his bands would tour through St. Louis. They were always interesting stuff and a wide range of sounds and styles. 

We first met Brandon Moses when he was on tour with Paperhaus in St. Louis. I think it was his birthday, too. He didn’t tour a ton with them. Laughing Man was our first time hearing him front songs. We always enjoyed staying with Erik and Benjamin and Brandon and enjoyed sharing that green power juice that Brandon gave us — really powered us up for the next drive. 

- Bembeya Jazz - “Petit Sokou”

I have felt love for this song for awhile, but Josh Weinstein recently sent a video of the band actually performing this song and WOW, it is hypnotizing. The outfits, the instruments, and the expressiveness of the guitar playing are all so vivid in black and white: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RpZVF_kKUJ4

25. Maxime le Forestier - “San Francisco”

Our thanks to Paige’s French instructor for showing us this song. Paige’s version is well worth hearing too, I must say: https://www.instagram.com/p/CKhJfqDDe2q/

p.s. Paige again, if you want to see the dragon birthday card that Evan made, here it is!

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 36 - Apologies

Author’s Note: Here we are! Not all of the classmate's apologies are seen here, but they all do apologize (to Marinette. Adrien gets separate apologies). We've got a strong language warning for 'fuck', but I'm also giving a heads up that Claude's chaotic energy is strong in this chapter. My friend was ready to riot. I love my child.

Chapter Summary: Marinette's former classmates finally apologize.

First | Previous | Next

“He’s probably sleeping on the chaise,” Allegra guesses. The four of them are back at the bakery, and Tom and Sabine told them that Adrien stayed the night.

“I’m glad that he got t’ stay somewhere other than his house,” Allan remarks as they climb up to Marinette’s room.

Claude is the first to note the empty chaise, and they grin. Putting his hand to his mouth in excitement, he hurries to the loft, fist pumping and cheering quietly. Taking out his phone, he squeals, “Guyssss, they’re cuddling.”

After taking ample pictures, they hop back down so the others can see. All three of them take more pictures.

Adrien is lying on his back, head against the pillows. Marinette is tucked under his chin, arm thrown over his chest, mouth slightly agape. Adrien’s right arm is hugging her back, and their legs are somewhat tangled together.

“This is precious.” Allegra bounces where she stands, looking over the pictures.

“I almost want to let ‘em sleep,” Allan comments.

“Almost,” Claude repeats, going back to the loft, “Mari, Adrien, it’s morning!”

The two don’t react, but a few more calls of their names and some gentle jostling of the mattress prompts Adrien to open his eyes. Blinking a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes, he brings a hand to face, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“Hey, Claude.”

“Hello, sleeping beauty. You rest well?” they tease.

Adrien smiles softly, mumbling, “Better than I would’ve back at the house. B’sides, Mari’d been overworkin’ herself again. Had t’ make ‘er sleep prop’rly…”

“That’s nothing new,” Allan sighs, “I think you’re the only one who can actually convince her to sleep, Adrien.”

“It’s a gift.”

“You guys are adorable.” Allegra shakes her head.

“Mostly Marinette though.” Adrien stretches, sitting up properly. The girl in question doesn’t wake, just mumbling sleepily and slipping off his chest, “Mari, it’s time to get up.”

He pokes her a few times, but she just bats his hand away, grumbling.

Claude snickers.

“Marinette, come on.” Adrien lifts her to a sitting position, she opens her eyes to glare at him. Noticing Claude, she waves lightly.

“Hello to you too, Princess Charming.”

She sighs, sitting up on her own, “I guess it’s morning?”

“No, it is midnight,” Felix deadpans.

The friends snicker and the three make their way down from the loft. Allegra holds up her phone, “We all have pictures of you two being absolutely precious, so we can send them to you. Maybe for your wedding?”

Marinette sticks her tongue out defiantly, “Maybe, we’ll just elope.”

“Claude would still find out, then they’d just drag us all there to be there. Y’ can’t escape from Claude,” Allan retorts.

“Nope! No escape from me!” Claude hugs Marinette tightly, making her laugh.

“Did you guys eat dinner before you went to sleep?” Allan looks at them suspiciously.

Adrien rubs his neck. “Uh… do cookies count?”

“No.” Allegra crosses her arms.

Claude lifts Marinette off the floor slightly. “The babies need to eat!” He cries.

Marinette kicks her feet fruitlessly, unable to reach the floor.

“Shortie,” Claude teases.

She scoffs, “Excuse you!”

“All in agreement with Claude’s statement, say ‘aye’,” Adrien announces, raising his hand.

There’s a chorus of ‘aye’s from everyone, making Marinette scowl.

“Betrayal. Complete and utter betrayal.”

---

The friends are wandering around the city, no real plans for the day. The citizens of Paris have been kind enough to leave Adrien alone when they notice him. When they make their way to the Trocadéro, they spot Max, Alix, and Kim.

Marinette studies them. Max is sitting on a low wall with a laptop and several notebooks surrounding him. He looks frazzled, and is repeatedly looking to his calculator to calculate something. Markov floats above him, seemingly in a better state than his maker.

Alix is skating in tight circles, gesturing wildly and speaking in a rushed, anxious voice to Kim. The boy is pacing, talking with her as well.

Markov spots the group of six first, smiling and waving in a friendly manner, but doesn’t mention their presence to the three teens he is with.

Marinette stands straighter, squaring her shoulders and walking closer. Her friends follow behind her, but walk a little ways away to give her space. They’re careful to keep an eye on the three classmates.

They haven’t earned any trust.

“Kim. Alix. Max,” she nods at each of them, and they turn to stare at her, “Hey, Markov! Good to see you again!”

“Ms. Marinette!” He greets her, flying over, “Thank you! The plan worked, Max and his friends have been cured!”

The three in question continue to stare at her, seemingly frozen.

Marinette smiles, turning to gesture at her group. “That’s good to hear. Do you remember my friends?”

The robot nods, flying over to them. “Of course! I am programmed to recall any human or animal I am introduced to! Greetings, Allan, Claude, Felix, and Adrien!” He turns to the braided girl, “By my calculations, you must be Allegra! It is nice to have properly viewed your face!”

She smiles, “Nice to meet you too!”

“Marinette!” Alix is the first to break from her stupor, running to the girl. When Marinette noticeably stiffens, seemingly preparing for something, Alix stops. “I’m so sorry.”

Marinette just stares at her, waiting.

“I- We- I never should have believed her. Lila. None of us should have! All of her stories were complete nonsense! I should have known that you’d never do the things she said you did! You were the best part of our class, and we fell apart without you, I- I’m just so sorry, and she did horrible things, and I just- I don’t know how to say how sorry I am.”

Marinette sighs, then speaks flatly, “You’re right. You shouldn’t have believed her. You shouldn’t have treated me the way you did. I didn’t deserve it, and even if I did do those things you wouldn’t have achieved anything besides just causing more hurt.” She turns to speak to all three of them, “I could honestly press charges, on many counts for so many of you. I’m not going to though, because I can guarantee that the hurt you’re all feeling now is merely a fraction of the pain all of you caused me, and I wouldn’t want to draw that out any longer for anyone - even Lila. Maybe someday, years from now, I can forgive you, maybe we can be friends, but there’s no undoing what happened, and we’ll never be as close as we used to be.”

Alix nods in understanding, then shakes her head, “You shouldn’t. None of us deserve that, after what we did.”

Marinette shrugs. “Maybe not.”

“Marinette?” Kim steps forward, “I’m sorry too - we all are. There wasn’t any reason for us to believe her over you, especially since you were, well, you. You were our class president, our everyday Ladybug-”

“Oh, fuck, she turned us against Ladybug!” Alix whispers in horror.

“-and you didn’t deserve any of it, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Kim.”

He nods sorrowfully, stepping back and fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie.

Max steps forward, looking down focusing on cleaning his glasses on his shirt. “M-Marinette. I apologize. Ever since the concert, I’ve been trying to run through my calculations to figure out where I went wrong. None of this makes sense, and logistically, I should have figured it out. Especially since Markov was so confused- I- He- He’d say that things weren’t adding up, and I would brush it off as a glitch in his system or a computer error. I should have known to factor in human error.” His normally steady voice is shaky, and he can barely keep it steady, staring at her with teary eyes.

Marinette’s heart can’t resist the urge to comfort him. She knows they don’t deserve to be comforted, but she hates seeing people upset.

She opens her arms slightly in an offer of a hug, and he nods shakily, hugging her tightly. Alix races over and just about knocks them over when she joins them. Kim, not to be outdone, does the same, and the four teens hold each other for a long moment.

It feels like goodbye.

They separate, Max and Kim blinking furiously and Alix with tears running down her face shamelessly. Marinette gives her one last tight hug before turning to head to her friends.

“Adrien?”

The model turns at Alix’s soft call. He waits.

“I’ve met so many creeps at the museum, I should have been able to recognize Lila for what she was. I’m sorry that you had to go through that, you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry we helped her, I’m sorry we ignored you, and I’m sorry for being blind. I- I hope you have a better life, with better friends. They seem pretty great.” She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, smiling sadly. The boys nod sincerely.

Adrien turns slightly, looking back at his new group. Marinette has tears in her eyes, but she’s smiling wide, which is a look he’s grown accustomed to being on her face. Allan is hugging her tightly, and Allegra is talking with her. Claude is cracking puns - if Felix’s disappointed face and Allegra’s scowl is anything to go by. Claude glances up and raises an eyebrow at him, making sure he’s okay. He nods, and the other boy grins, turning back to the others.

“Yeah. Yeah, they are.”

---

“Cereal is a soup though!” Claude insists.

Felix and Allegra sigh in unison.

Allan shrugs, “I’m with Claude, it’s definitely a soup.”

“Thank you!”

“But it’s not!” Marinette cuts in, “By definition, soup is-”

“-a liquid dish-” Claude interrupts.

Marinette ignores them, continuing, “-a liquid dish typically made by boiling meat, fish, vegetables, in stock or water! Do you boil your Cheerios, Claude?”

“‘Typically made’!” Allan quotes.

“Not to mention,” Claude starts, “The definition had an ‘etc’ after the list of what you add, which leaves it open to interpretation!” “Mari, you can’t avoid the truth. Cereal-”

“-is not a soup!” Allegra, Felix, and Marinette speak over him.

“-is a soup.” Adrien finishes.

“By your logic, the Seine is a soup of river water and boats!” She gestures wildly to the river beside them.

“It does have fish!” Allan raises a finger, gesturing to show he thinks she has a point.

“Well, duh,” Claude adds.

Adrien puts an arm around Marinette’s shoulder, “Good to have you on our side, Marinette.”

“I want a divorce!” She goes over to Allegra, staring at the ground, “Kill me. Kill me now. The Seine is not a soup.”

Allegra hugs her, patting her on the back comfortingly.

“What was that, Ma-Ma-Marinette? I live on a soup?”

Marinette wheels around, turning to the blue-haired boy leaning over the railing of the Liberty. “Luka! You’re smart and reasonable! Please tell them that cereal isn’t a soup! Neither is the Seine.”

He hums, closing his eyes and strumming on his guitar. “I think… that anything can be a soup if you truly believe.”

Marinette stares at him in shock for a moment, then throws her hands up in the air and walks away, “Nope! Nope! Can’t do this! I’m out! Sayonara! Goodbye! Farewell! Au revoir!”

Her friends snicker. She turns back and returns, sighing.

“Ignoring your blatant lies, how are you? It’s been a while.”

“Pretty good. Better now that Jules isn’t under that siren song anymore,” He smiles at her, “Thanks for that, by the way.”

She raises an eyebrow, “How’d you know I was responsible?”

“That whole thing had your song written all over it. I was there.”

Allegra snaps her fingers, pointing at Luka. “That’s where I know you from! You were a part of the competition!”

He nods, “Yeah.” He strums on his guitar, thinking over something for a moment, “You were… with the flutes? Adrien was on piano, obviously.”

She nods.

“How are you?” Luka asks Marinette, “Your song is… different. A good different.”

Allegra, Claude, Allan, and Felix seem confused by his meaning.

“Much better than I was, now that I’m out of Dupont.”

“They wouldn’t let your song soar. You were forced into a decrescendo that threw everything else off. Now?” He nods approvingly, “It’s much better.”

“You didn’t know me before Dupont,” she points out.

“Anyone can tell when the music is wrong.”

She tilts her head and squints at him, “Hmm.”

“Uh, what song?” Claude interjects.

Marinette shrugs, unsure how to explain.

“Jules and Rose are ready to see you,”  Luka says out of the blue, “You can head on back to them, Jules is probably expecting you.”

Marinette smiles, turning to her friends. “I’ll be back. Luka can explain his whole song thing while I’m gone.” She waves as she boards the boat, heading down to Juleka’s room.

It opens slightly when she knocks, and the girls inside wave her in.

Rose looks close to tears, and Juleka isn’t much better.

“We’re so sorry,” the taller girl manages. “Luka had always told me to be careful near Lila, and I just… never believed him, never cared. You were always so you, I should have known better than to think you’d do what she said you did.”

The designer smiles weakly.

Rose finally breaks, sobbing and rushing to hug Marinette tightly. She can make out some of the muffled apology, and gets the gist of it. She returns the hug, which only seems to make Rose cry harder.

“W-we d-don’t des-deserve y-y-y-you!”

Marinette just continues to comfort her as best she can until the girl quiets down. Rose goes to sit next to Juleka, who now has a few tears rolling down her cheeks silently.

“I won’t deny that you guys hurt me. Deeply. It took me months to recover from that properly, and I’m not sure if I’m even done healing yet. I… I can’t even begin to describe how… awful it got. I don’t hate you-”

“You should,” Juleka argues, “You should.”

Marinette sighs, “What would that achieve? No, I’m not going to continue this cycle. I don’t forgive you, and I’m certainly not going to forget, but I’m not going to hate you. I put enough energy into hating myself these last few months, I’m not about to waste energy that way again.”

Juleka shakes her head.

They talked for a while longer, before Marinette eventually had to go. Returning to the top, she sees all of her friends chatting happily with Luka. Felix is the first to spot her and she gives him a tired smile.

Luka turns, playing something on his guitar that matches how she feels perfectly as usual.

“It was nice seeing you, Luka.”

“It was nice seeing you, Marinette.”

Waving goodbye, the group moves on from the houseboat. By now, it’s beginning to grow dark out, and eventually the group grows smaller as more of them go home when they pass by. In the end, it’s only Adrien and Marinette. He’s going back to his house, but some of his stuff is at her place, so he gets to stop there first.

At the park outside of her house, her remaining former classmates are waiting. Alya isn’t there, which is a relief.

They need to talk separately.

One by one, Marinette speaks with each of them, Adrien watching vigilantly by her home.

Nino is last.

“Nette? It was really uncool of me to treat you the way I did. Y-You were the best part of our class and I just let everyone throw you away. I threw you away. It- I have no excuse. Lila lied, but we didn’t even question her, even when you pointed out the flaws. We ignored e-everything, and I just- I’m sorry. We grew up together, and it took a day for me to decide that meant nothing.”

“Nino, I won’t lie,” she notices how the boy winces at the phrase, “You and Alya hurt me the most out of the entire class. You went from my best friends to my worst enemies so quickly. I’m not sure you’ll ever fully understand how much that had me questioning my self worth. I spent months thinking I was nothing but some awful burden, and it was only recently that I finally realized that I didn’t do anything wrong. I made so many excuses for you and none for myself. I’m not going to hate you. I’ve spent long enough dwelling on nothing but hate that I’m done giving energy to that. I’m not forgiving, and I’m not forgetting, I’m just tired. Tired of dealing with this situation that never should have existed in the first place if my ‘friends’ had trusted me, tired of… a lot. Consider us a little worse off than strangers - because at least strangers haven’t caused me months of emotional pain.”

Nino nods tearfully. Marinette sighs. “I don’t hate you. I really don’t. Goodnight Nino.” Giving him a quick hug, she turns to head to the bakery. Adrien meets her halfway and she just about asks him to carry upstairs because she is completely spent. Her poor sleep schedule tied with everything that happened today, it’s no surprise she feels dead on her feet.

“How are you holding up, my lady?” He puts an arm around her, squeezing her a little.

“Eh,” she manages.

She knows he can see through her, but she’s not particularly focused on hiding her lack of energy at the moment.

“Then it’s time for you to get to bed.”

She nods, she really doesn’t have a problem with that plan.

---

Author’s Note: Marinette is probably being too lenient on them, but she's Marinette, so what else would you expect?

Disclaimer: Claude & Co.'s opinion on cereal does not reflect the author's opinion. That said, the author would love to see where you guys stand on that matter.

Alya is next chapter, so don't worry that she's not here. Also, I'm going to try and write all/most of the remaining chapters of With Time by the end of  this weekend. I want to finally get rid of that question mark. Once I have it all written I'll probably start updating more too! (Tuesday would be my extra update day, so if I do finish the story by this weekend's end, then expect Chapter 37 on Tuesday!)

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

P.S. Okay, I'm getting curious. What's your stance on soup? I, of course, went overboard and created a survey, so I guess answer it if you want?

First | Previous | Next

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

An Ephemeral Eternity in Seven Parts - Steve Rogers x Reader.

MASTERLIST

Word Count~ 3k. Warnings: Gifs aren’t mine. My English. There is a triggering part and for that I am sorry. If you need to talk about all those very heavy thoughts, I am here and so are many people. Don’t try to end your life. It has meaning, even if you can’t see it right now. I promise you.  Also, you might know it by now... some Bucky x reader too.  Part I Part II Part III

PART IV 

 Standing her ground, going against Tony and betraying him as he had informed her in a text were already enough to destroy whatever was left of their father-daughter relationship. Fighting against him though...that would be the cherry on top. She was hoping for something civilized but instead she was about to get a civil war. Sleep had been avoiding her lately along with Steve and Bucky. In fact, Sam was the only one who actually talked to her for more than five seconds. She understood the reasons behind that but it felt like a lousy attempt and got under her skin. They hadn't had the chance to talk since that kiss but she knew that it wasn't the fact that things had happened so damn fast - he was dreading it. He had never believed he would feel like he did with Peggy and he was mistaken. He was aware that it was a bit more really than the 40s and a lot harder too. He was thankful for all her help but had insisted that she wasn't part of whatever would go down between him and her father. She never listened to anyone but her own mind. With the third glass of red wine in her hand, she waltzed around the small rented loft. Sam was out, being their food supplier, Bucky was trying to get some sleep and Steve was in the shower. She sat down in the small couch by the window - at least, the view was to kill for. Her mind was blurry and for that she was thankful, not being able to think for an hour was everything she was looking for in the bottom of that glass. When she heard the floor squeaking, she already knew who it was causing the chilling sound but she turned to look at him anyway. She gazed at him as if he was art - beautiful, moving in many ways she had previously though impossible, flawed in a tragically elegant way. She had always known he was going to break her heart but she dived. Sensing him holding back, she smiled and pointed out the bottle of wine. He got himself a glass and filled it with the rich, red wine and was even kind enough to refill hers. As he sat down next to her, his perfume was intoxicating her - and it wasn't even the perfume... it was how familiar and intimate he smelled that made her wish they had more time. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked her in a hushed tone as he sipped his drink in big gulps. She exhaled loudly and pressed her lips into a thin line. "I don't know Steve. My head is going to be in the mission, if that's what you're asking" she told him, pretending it didn't hurt her. He winced and tried to drink his thoughts away but it didn't work. He knew her, for better or worse and she wasn't being honest. He put down his glass, took hers and placed it right beside his own and turned to face her. He took her hands in his, gently rubbing circles with his thumb to her palm. "You don't have to fight against your father. I put you in that position and I'm sorry -" "You didn't ask me to sign the Accords, you didn't ask me to blindly follow your decision. I chose this. I know I don't have to. But I will" she cut him off, not leaving him any chance to smooth her agony. He felt useless. Maybe it wasn't all his fault but he certainly made it worse. And her position was so difficult - he admired her for he wouldn't have been able to go against his father to fight for what he believed in. Back then, at least. He wanted to hug her and tell her that everything was going to be okay eventually, but he would lie and she would see through him. So, he decided to be honest with her. Maybe they wouldn't even get a second chance. "I have never been completely honest with you and you deserve much more than that. There is something I wanted to tell you since...well I don't even remember anymore. I have never been good with ladies and I don't think that has changed. In fact, it might just-" he had been cut off again. He usually didn't like it but he was willing to make an exception if it was her cutting him off like that. She had pulled him closer and kissed him. It was as simple as that. She craved his soft lips caressing hers, his hands wrapping her in his embrace, her hands running through his golden locks. This time it was different. He gradually deepened the kiss, his hands holding her in his hug, wanting to be with her. She knew exactly what she wanted and where that went - if they weren't meant to have forever it was going to be okay with her. She flickered her tongue, tracing his upper lip and biting his lower as her hands explored his back. He broke the kiss to look at her, to see her eyes looking his but instead of him talking, it was her making his decision so much clearer. "I've had sex but I don't know what making love feels like" she whispered so inaudible low. Even though they had never talked about their... status - he was scared to even admit his feelings - it felt right. He hugged her even more tightly and lifted her up, kissing her all the more passionately. All the pieces were falling into place - nothing was perfect outside the bedroom they now were but at least she was with him and he was with her. He softly laid her on the bed, never once leaving her escape his embrace. He was treating her like porcelain even though he knew she was steel; she was too precious for him to treat her any differently. And for the first time, she was okay to be vulnerable in front of someone else. She was glad someone was finally accepting her flaws. He never made her doubt herself.

He worshiped her.

And for a night the world stood still.

 The next morning, she woke up later than she would normally would. She did have an excellent reason. She opened her eyes, expecting to be blinded by the sun but instead she was pleasantly surprised by a dark and raining sky. She always loved those days a bit more - there was no need to hide when the day was as dark as the night. What she hadn't been expecting was an obnoxiously huge cup of coffee next to her along with an entire buffet - to her amazement -  and Steve only in his sweatpants looking out the window but sneaking peeks of her image. He smiled at her and sat down at the bed, next to her, kissing her forehead and then her lips, his eyes soft and innocently sweet. She didn't know they had time for that kind of special treatment. "Hi" she said with a raspy voice but he thought of it as sexy. Her hair was disheveled and his eyes traveled to her peaceful face. "Good morning to you too" he chuckled at her not so functioning state. She had never been a morning person and to prove her point she just raised her eyebrow as she slowly got up from the bed, taking a big sip of coffee and feeling the cold running up her spine. It was chilly. "So what's for today?" she asked once her mind had finally turned on, ignoring their last night, something he noticed. He had also noticed she was cold and he offered her his oversized sweater - it had his sense all over it she realized once she put it on but she was happily wrapped in a cocoon of blissfulness. He put a strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand floating mid-air, momentarily considering every possibility. "We have another day, so..." he told her honestly. He finally rested his hand on her waist, bringing her closer to him. He wanted to ask her so many things but he was afraid that maybe she would feel under pressure. She could read it in his impossibly delicate eyes. "Okay then... Look, Steve. About last night..." before she could actually tell him her thoughts, he tried to cut her off, thinking he might ease the blow. "You regretted. That okay, no wor-" "Why on earth would I regret it? I like you Steve. A lot. And last night... it was special" she finally finished off her sentence with him not being able to believe what he heard. He slowly smiled at her as if he was found innocent in court. She was still mesmerized by his eyes - so captivating and bewitching. In one swift move, he raised her up and enveloped her in a hug, one hand under her legs, the other holding her back while hers went to his head and neck. It was more than she expected of him and less than she would have craved. Her mind was screaming to her heart what she already knew - they weren't meant to be. She smiled through her thoughts and kissed him. The soft hint of the coffee and the even lighter taste of smoke, made her lose herself in him. He guided her legs around his waist and held her impossibly close to him. Some airy moans escaped their mouths and for better or for worse, the door swung open, revealing a slightly upset Bucky, trying to make his presence known with a small cough. Her eyes opened wide and she was on her feet not a moment later. She wasn't quite sure why she felt the way she did. It wasn't something abnormal - he knew how they felt about each other. Yet her heart squeezed in an unexplained way, leaving her puzzled.  "Sorry to interrupt, Sam has an idea... he says he knows a guy" he said darkly, not once making eye-contact with her. But of course, there was a war coming up - and it so happened to be against her father - there was no time for romance. Alas, their time had expired. 

 He left in a hurry with Sam to meet up with someone named Scott Lang and she had locked herself in the bathroom, trying to run a proper bath without once thinking about everything. With a bottle of red wine, she had already drunk and one more waiting for her next to the bathtub, she lowered herself into the bathtub. The water was hot; so hot it would probably have burnt her but she couldn’t feel. Her body was numb and she wanted that numbness to enter her mind too. Everything had gone silent and she already felt dead. Her hand flew to the bottle and she took a large sip, downing the wine in big gulps. It was only her and the water. Her and the water. The water. She faintly heard someone calling her name but it felt so distant, so far away from her.  It felt like it was meant to be. Like her life would come into a full circle and she could have her closure. Finally. It felt so long since she had been able to contain it. All of her life, she had known nothing else but pain and torment. Blood she had spilled, murders she had committed, so much to take in. She had found out she had a father only to be asked to choose a side. That constant hide and seek, she had come to believe that it was all there was. And then she had kissed him, finally letting herself feel.  She stopped breathing and closed her eyes. One, two, three… even the numbers became insignificant. She felt the burning sensation; her lungs were desperate-they were fighting for air. Her whole body was fighting to survive. However, her mind was determined to keep her there. She felt dizzy, sort of lightheaded. It was about to end. This misery. It felt kind of sad though. The one person she truly wanted to care, did. But she was too lost to be found. No more pretending, no more facades. no more tragedy, no more lies.  As she was about to slip, two strong hands were gripping her by her shoulders, pulling her from the water. Before she could even open up her eyes, she was being carried away. She knew it wasn't Steve who had her wrapped in his arms, she could feel the cold metal against her naked body but nothing stopped her from leaning closer and resting her head in his chest. Sooner rather than later, he softly laid her down. For the first time, she opened her eyes, only to find his impossibly silver eyes already looking at her. There was a pause, silence filling up the room, tension fusing between them. His eyes were pained and terrified, worried sick about her. She was looking at him with an apology in her eyes but she wouldn't say the words because they felt stupid and he knew - he never wanted her to apology for feeling too much, for being overwhelmed. He needed to know; however, how could she feel so desperate when she was happy just that morning. It wasn't something he couldn't understand, as he had thought of it many times before. Shaking his head, clearing up his mind, he handed her some warm clothes as he wanted her to be a bit more comfortable - well, that and he couldn't be in the same room with her naked and fragile because his head was going to places he had tried to stay away from.  "I am sorry" she whispered after a while but he winced and looked at her even more hurt. She lowered her eyes and tried to stop her head from spinning. Her legs were hanging out of the bed, still naked as she had only managed to put on a long shirt. "Why?" he simply asked before he could stop himself - he knew it wasn't still the time but he couldn't help it. She took a deep breath before she answered him, truthfully.  "It felt easier". It was just a whisper but it broke his heart. His hand cupped her cheek without even thinking about it. Those secret glimpses, the softness of the look, the gentle touches that didn't steal the other's body but simply made anew, the soundless actions of love that were not asked but given nonetheless, those were personal moments no one else knew about. He softly closed his eyes, containing himself, resisting the urge to hug her and never let her go.  "No. It didn't" he whispered back at her, as she let out a sad chuckle.  "It didn't" she agreed and tucked his hair behind his ears, her fingers tracing his jaw line. He stood up, abruptly enough for her to understand that both the tension and the ease she felt were mutual.  "I am not going to tell Steve - but I think you should. He cares about you" he said and left the room. 'So do you' she thought with a bittersweet aftertaste creeping up to her heart.  She had no idea how she would muster the courage to tell Steve, she did know she had to. She had promised him that her head was in the game, while if fact she was lying through her teeth. Fighting against her father, playing a part in Zemo's plan, all of her past was catching up with her and she felt terrified, sick and tired of all the bloodshed, she was exhausted from all the pain she had caused. Maybe she wasn't ready to blow up her entire life, now that she had gotten one. Then again, she had every reason to stand her ground, to fight for what she believed, but oh, did that felt like an eternity away. She had to make a decision. But, how could she? She was still thinking about a very unique pair of eyes. He crept into her heart, seeking to devour her, but he was the one consumed, he knew that much. He knew how stupid he had been... she was in love with Steve and Steve, his fucking best friend, was for once after a long time happy. He had seen the way they looked at each other. On top of all that, finding her in the situation he did drove him insane. Oh, and there was going to be a fist-to-fist battle just hours away. His mind screamed and hers grew quieter, for she understood that she had been lost for too long.  She would talk to Steve, even though she had no intention of tiring him with her burden. She would stay out of the fight. She would get away. She would say goodbye.  [Taglist: @accio-rogers​ @coffee-with-orion​ @moli1497​ @stydia-4-ever​ @smilexcaptainx​ ]

[nighting-gale17]

If it’s not pushy, prompt wise I really really loved your werewolf fic that you started! Honestly anything more of that would make me soft. PS you’re #writergoals

Ahhh I’m so glad you liked it! Honestly, I got such positive feedback from that fic it really surprised me. So here’s part 2!!!! 

As always, send in your prompts :) I love writing the stuff you guys send me!

Here’s Part 1

He saw the signs but he ignored it.

It was like seeing his sister again ripped open the scabbed over wound in his heart. The ache in the center of his chest seemed heavier than usual and the loneliness he often found easy to ignore was insistent on demanding his attention. It smothered him. It made him struggle for every breath—wolves couldn’t cry and Buck hadn’t been human in so long he wasn’t sure he remembered how. So instead, at night, when the half-moon was at its peak, he howled out his pain and misery.

Buck spent several days hiding from her pack. He was angry at his sister—he still believed she abandoned him on that day, allowing that monster to completely ruin any semblance of normalcy the two of them had desperately tried to obtain without a pack. And now she was pregnant with his child. It’s been around twenty years—how many more of his children had she had in that time?

It was difficult for him to stay away for too long. The fragile, tentative bond he had created with Christopher was the closest he’s had to a pack bond for a long, long time and when he felt it tugging him towards the boy he couldn’t ignore it. 

He slunk silently through the undergrowth near the edge of the Pack’s territory, his ears up and alert as he looked around for Christopher. He could tell the young pup was nearby, the excitement through the bond was practically impossible to ignore. He scanned the surrounding area, his eyes landing on two figures standing and talking quietly while Christopher played around in a shallow creek.

He sniffed the air, his ears flattening nervously against his head when he recognized the scent of Christopher’s father Eddie, and the other man, who Buck could tell was the Alpha just by the raw power he was radiating even from this distance.

The man’s presence made Buck nervous, and he almost turned tail and ran in the other direction if it hadn’t been for Christopher perking up, apparently sensing he was close. He yipped into the air, circling Eddie and the Alpha, bringing their conversation to an abrupt halt.

Slowly, Buck slinked out of the undergrowth. He was still wary around the Alpha, but he didn’t see or smell Maddie’s presence anywhere and he supposed that would have to do for right now. He let out a huff to announce his presence a few feet away, tail swinging uneasily behind him.

Bucky! Christopher’s voice in his head was a welcoming surprise as the little pup barreled towards him as fast as his feet would carry him. You came!

I promised, didn’t I, buddy? Buck answered him, nuzzling the top of his head and bumping their noses against each other affectionately. He wasn’t sure he would ever get over how odd it was to speak with someone again—it had been so long.

“We weren’t sure you would come this time,” Eddie said as he walked towards them. His hazel eyes glimmered curiosity and— something else Buck wasn’t sure. “Maddie—” he cut himself off when Buck snarled lowly at the name, his eyes narrowing into slits.

“Hey, enough of that,” The Alpha warned, his eyes flashing red and a frown forming on his face as he stepped up next to Eddie.

Buck abruptly stopped and looked away, his ears flattening against his skull in a small sign of how uncomfortable he was. The Alpha made panic claw at his chest and he had to fight against the instinct to run away again. He tried to remind himself that this Alpha wasn’t him but—it was difficult.

Eddie cleared his throat. “She told us about what happened. She wanted us to tell you that she’s not with him anymore.”

Too little too late, Buck thought to himself bitterly, sitting down on his haunches and huffing. He flicked his tail back and forth, absently entertaining Christopher while his stare flicked back forth from Eddie to the Alpha.

“Why won’t you change back?” Eddie asked, his annoyance obvious. “It’s difficult for us to talk to you like this.”

I’ve already told you that I can’t, Buck muttered to himself, a low growl leaving his throat.

Christopher must have been reiterating his words because he saw Eddie’s frown deepen from annoyance to concern. “You said that last time. I’ve never heard of a wolf who couldn’t change.”

“I have.” The Alpha spoke, looking at Buck with an intense gaze that wasn’t hostile, but still made Buck shift uncomfortably underneath the weight of his stare. “Omegas traditionally struggle to maintain their hold on their humanity without the bond a Pack provides. If Buck has been Packless for as long as Maddie claims, that would be why he can’t change back.”

Buck didn’t know that. God, there was so much that he didn’t know. He just assumed that since Maddie left—since the emptiness took up the spot where the bond used to be—he’d never had any need to be human and had just altogether forgotten how.

It never occurred to him how lost in his wolf he had gotten.

Bucky can join our Pack! Christopher chirped, momentarily distracted from his battle with Buck’s tail.

Buck felt all of the breath leave his body at once and his brain seemed to freeze at the suggestion. Christopher’s declaration seemed eager and genuine; he had no idea the weight his words held as he went back to chasing Buck’s tail.

Being a part of a Pack… it was a hopeless dream Buck had been chasing since he was a pup. he’d always dreamed about having a large Pack to take care of him and Maddie— they’d always have enough food every night and they would never have to go to bed cold because they would have an entire Pack keeping them warm. They wouldn’t have to live in fear every day that a larger predator would find them and hunt them down because they were too young, too weak to protect themselves.

He’d always dreamed about having siblings to chase after and play with when he was lonely because Maddie was out hunting for them. Buck longed for the safety and protection that came with Pack. 

But that’s all it was—a dream.

He had no idea how real Pack dynamics work. The only Packs he had ever encountered had been terrifying and cruel to him because of his omega status—he wasn’t a part of a Pack and it was something they could smell on him. He knew he would never belong. The idea of joining a Pack was thrilling and terrifying, yet the only reason he didn’t run away again was because of oblivious Christopher chasing his tail.

“He did save Christopher, and they’ve already bonded, Bobby,” Eddie murmured to his Alpha, glancing over at the older man. “And Maddie has been desperate to get him back.”

The Alpha, Bobby, looked thoughtful as he considered this. It was a big deal, Buck knew, to accept an outsider into a Pack. There was never a guarantee that they would fit within the Pack dynamic or be trusted by the rest of the wolves. No one had ever wanted Buck to join their Pack—no matter how many times as a pup he had tried and begged and failed. He wasn’t good enough, he accepted that, which is why he was shocked when he heard Bobby’s next words.

“If he wants to, I don’t see why he shouldn’t,” Bobby said, smiling a little at the shocked look on Buck’s face. “Your sister is our family, so you’re our family too.”

Buck pawed anxiously at the ground, trying to dispel some of the irrational panic he felt. His indecision should be proof enough he was too broken to cohesively join a Pack—what kind of wolf balked at the chance to join such a large, welcoming Pack? He felt his tail instinctively tuck slightly between his legs as he lowered his head. He was just—

He was scared.

Christopher whined a little at his sudden drop in mood and walked around Buck to nudge his little nose against the side of Buck’s mouth. Why are you scared?

Buck licked the top of Christopher’s head comfortingly. I’ve never been in a Pack before, baby. I’m just scared they won’t like me when I make mistakes.

That’s silly. Christopher pawed at the edge of his snout. Daddy says everyone makes mistakes and that we just have to do better next time.

Your Daddy sounds really smart. Buck rumbled, glancing up briefly at Eddie and Bobby, who were watching them curiously, before turning his attention back to Christopher. He wished he had the boy’s blind faith in the world. But I’m not sure, buddy.

Christopher stared up at him with those round, blue eyes, his head tilted slightly in concentration before he let out a yip of excitement. What if you just stay for a little while? And if you like it, you can stay forever! 

Buck hesitated, the anxiety swirling around in his chest when Christopher turned around to Eddie and Bobby and presumably told them the same thing.

“If that would make Buck feel better, we could work with that.” Bobby agreed a small smile on his face when Christopher yipped again, his tail swinging excitedly from side to side as he stared up at buck with pleading blue eyes. 

Buck thought about before he found Christopher—the lonely days and nights, the cold winters by himself, the terror of being chased from his home by other Packs or predators he was too weak to stop alone. Then looked down at Christopher and saw those pleading eyes, felt the small blossom of warmth his bond with the pup took up in the vast hole in his heart.

He wanted to feel whole again. He craved it—more than anything. More than his mixed feelings towards his sister, more than his fear of Alphas. He wanted a home. He wanted to belong.

He wanted a family.

Okay. Buck agreed, leaning down to nuzzle the top of Christopher’s head. I’ll give it a try.

[starscheme]

With All My Heart

Chapter Ten: Found, but Lost

Hours had gone by and still no sign of Garnet. The sun had long since set, forcing the Off Colors and the Crystal Gems to search by flashlight. Pearl and Amethyst joined the search, unable to sit at home any longer. Most of the gems had jumped from place to place by warp pad, each one marking off areas they had already searched. Amethyst made sure to stay with Pearl as they rushed around. None of the Gems worried about a late night, they were frantic over Padparadscha’s late prediction. It was a good thing they didn’t need sleep or food. It made for a good search party.

“You find anything, Rhodonite?” Asked Lars, walking through some large leaves to meet her at the warp pad.

“Not a trace. This is hopeless…we’re never going to find her…” Rhodonite moaned sadly, hugging herself with all four arms and nearly blinding Lars with her flashlight in the process.

Lars covered his eyes and sighed, stepping onto the warp pad so that the Gem could take them back to beach city. “…I haven’t heard anything from Steven or Pearl either,” he replied, taking his phone from his pocket to check if they had called once again. I heard he ran off to look for Spinel too. If anyone can find her, he’d have the best luck. Those two were always together…”

Once the beam of light had brought them back home, they were faced with Fluorite, the large fusion that was kept at home in case Spinel happened to come back. “Anything,” asked Lars.

Fluorite shook her head slowly, disheartening Lars and Rhodonite. The two sighed miserably and Lars took out a map from his pocket to mark off the area they just searched. “…you should get some rest,” Rhodonite began in concern, “it’s almost dawn. Don’t you need a little sleep?”

Lars offered the gem a tired smile. “I don’t need as much as I used to. Don’t worry, I can keep going. Let’s at least search one more area.”

As Lars and the others kept on trudging on, Steven had been searching all night long and found absolutely nothing. No one besides the off colors had seen Spinel when she left and there was still no word from Garnet. Checking his phone again, he could see that it had already died. The half gem had run all over the city calling her name, going anywhere he could think of that they shared a memory.

"We were always together..." Steven muttered, doing his best to hold back tears. A lack of sleep didn't help his emotional state, but he couldn't possibly rest while Spinel was out there alone. Especially after hearing Padparadscha's foreboding prediction. He took only a moment to stop running and catch his breath and was ready to set out again until a familiar voice called out his name.

 "Steven, there you are!" Connie exclaimed, hanging her head out of the passenger seat while her father drove. Stopping on the side of the road so Connie could get out, she rushed over to Steven and hugged him tight. "Pearl told me what happened to Spinel. I'm so sorry, Steven!"

Honestly, Steven was relieved and welcomed the hug from his friend. No matter how confusing everything has been, the one constant was that Connie was one of his best friends. Nothing would change that. "...I'm still looking for her.”

"Lars and the others are still looking too, don't worry, Steven, we'll find her."

"Thanks Connie, I'm gonna try a couple more—"

"—-you should rest for a while Steven. You don't look well, Connie insisted. "You've been up all night. Some sleep will help a lot."

"I can't sleep until I find her. I won't be able to. The whole reason she slipped away was because I fell asleep in the first place! She fell asleep in my arms and now she's gone..." declared Steven, wiping the oncoming tears from his eyes.

Connie couldn't help but be curious about what he said when he mentioned holding Spinel in his arms, but she had to put that aside for now. Spinels safety came first. "The rest of us will keep looking and Pearl knows Spinel really well. I'm sure we can do this. Now please Steven...you HAVE to get some sleep. Without it, you'll be of no use. Besides, Spinel wouldn't want you to—"

"Stop." Steven insisted bitterly. The way she made it sound like Spinel was already gone, he didn't like it.

Connie could see that the lack of sleep and worry had worn Steven down. She was about to suggest he rest once again until her phone began to ring. "It's Lars," Connie announces hopefully. Maybe his search party had better luck. Answering the phone at once, Connie listened as Lars spoke and suddenly a wide grin spread across her face. "Steven, Lars found Spinel! He's back at your house right now!"

Steven suddenly felt his legs give way and he dropped to his knees with a tired laugh. "Is she okay? Did he say anything about her Gem?"

"No, he just said he found her Gem. She must have been poofed by something. Come on, we'll give you a ride back home!" She exclaimed as she helped Steven to his feet.

Inside the car now, Steven waited anxiously to get back home. Sure she had been poofed, but as long as she was in one piece, everything was going to be okay.

Once they reached his home, Connie and Steven thanked her dad, rushing from the car to go and see Spinel. However, instead of being greeted with happy, relieved faces, Pearl, Amethyst, and Rutile stood in front of the house, as if waiting for Steven there with distraught over their faces.

"Why are you guys out here? Where's Spinel?" Steven asked at once as he ran over. It seemed like they were there to block him from going inside.

 "Ah, Steven..." Pearl began, looking a bit shaky herself. Trying her best not to burst into tears again. "Something has...happened to Spinel. Before you go inside, you should know—"

So something was wrong. Without waiting to hear another word, Steven leapt over the gems that blocked his way and landed onto the top of the stairs, rushing inside.

"I said, I don't want a hug!" Lars shouted, pushing Spinels extended arms off of his waist. He and Rhodonite stood in the middle of the living room with Spinel, but not the Spinel Steven remembered.

Steven stood frozen in the doorway, staring wide eyed at the Spinel Pearl had shown him in a hologram earlier. Her hair was tied into buns that took the shape of hearts, the black lines that ran down her cheeks were gone, her eyes had changed color, and the biggest change of all? Her heart Gem was right side up. Still, even with all these changes, Steven was just relieved to see that she was okay. She must have really changed her appearance after reforming.

"Spinel!" Steven called out happily as he ran over to her, taking her hands in his. "I was so worried about you!"

"Worried?" Spinel repeated. Even her tone of voice was different now. "Why would anyone worry about me when I have my best with me?" She giggled happily.

Steven looked into her eyes, growing a bit more concerned. She really didn't sound like herself. "O-okay. Well...I'm just glad you're home. We can talk about what happened later if you want..."

"Eh, sorry mister, but I don't live here," Spinel answered with a smile, "where my best friend goes, I go!" She announced happily, slipping her hands from Stevens grip and backing up to stand beside Lars, putting her arm around him.

Lars looked terribly uncomfortable and shrugged his shoulders as he looked to Steven for help. "She's been like this since she reformed," he explained, pushing her hand from his shoulder. "She said she's my new best friend..."

"That's what I was trying to explain to you, Steven," Pearl chimes in as she entered the house, holding what appeared to be the small rod that Steven recognized as Spinels Scythe. "Spinel...seems to have poofed herself with this."

Steven was still confused. "So?"

"Steven...Spinel is like me. She didn't originally have a weapon since we weren't built for battle like Ruby or Amethyst. ...Since the rebellion began, Spinel has been using something called a rejuvenator that had been reprogrammed from its original purpose. Which was to...reset a Gem back to when it was new. She must have had another rejuvenator since she kept backups in case hers broke...from her appearance, she clearly used it on herself. Which means she doesn't remember...anything. All of her previous memories are gone now..."

Steven felt like he was living in a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. What on earth was she talking about? There's no way that Spinel would just forget like that. Not after everything. "Spinel?" Steven began, turning to her once again, slightly irritated when he saw her clinging to Lars' arm.

"You don't...remember anything? You don't remember me?"

"Sure don't, am I supposed to?" She answered with a shake of her head, the smile never leaving her face.

"...she must have wanted to be like she was before. ...to fix everything..." Pearl choked out.

"You mean to fix what YOU said she should!" Steven insisted, clenching his fists at his side and glaring down at the floor. He couldn't help but blame Pearl. He didn't want to hurt her, but the words just kept pouring out before he could stop them. "You said she was wrong and so she FIXED herself! I told you that she was fine! Why couldn't you just—"

"Hey, hey, Steven, Calm down!" Lars pleaded anxiously. "This isn't going to help."

"That's right," Spinel added happily, "let's turn our frowns upside down and play a game!"

Steven glanced up at Spinel, feeling a sharp pain in his chest when he saw her face. "...I—I...what am I supposed to do?"

"...I'm sure this isn't permanent," One of the Rutile twins began as they entered his the others, walking over to Lars and brushing Spinels hand from his shoulder.

"Lots of gems got rejuvenated on home world. The ones that started to get their memories back tried to run...but were eventually shattered."

"Started to get their memories back?" Pearl and Steven repeated together.

"So that means there's a chance her memories are still in there somewhere?!" Pearl asked hopefully. Since she had been beside Pink her whole time on Home world, she had never seen anyone rejuvenated. The diamonds would merely shatter or break a gem that stepped out of line.

"I should think so..." the left twin replied, "but we don't really know how it works."

Steven was still a little lost, but ever optimistic, he tried to spin this in his head. Spinel didn't remember him now, but she could remember him eventually. So this wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. At least she wasn’t actually broken or shattered. Still, just how long would that take though and how was he supposed to remind her? "O-okay. So we just...need to remind Spinel who she is. Then...she'll be back to normal and everything will be fine."

"Yeah, okay, but in the meantime, what are we gonna do about this?" Lars asked as Spinel coiled her arms around him gently and pressed her cheek cheerfully against his as she giggled.

"Well first, stop touching her." Steven answered irately, finding it difficult to not simply forcefully separate the two.

"Dude, are you serious?! I can't even move my arms!" Lars replied. "Hey uh, Spinel? Can you...let go?"

Spinels happy expression didn't change, but she released Lars without protest. "Anything for my best friend."

"Why is she doing that? Why is she suddenly so attached to Lars?" Steven demanded, finding that he was most unsettled with this outcome.

"She must have reformed around Lars. He was the one that found her after all. When a Spinel first forms, the first person they see is...who they think they were made for. She must think Lars was her intended...owner, if you will."

"Well tell her he's not!" Steven insisted, not sure what to do about it. Though he has happy that Spinel could get her memories back and he was glad to have her home unharmed, he was not happy at all that she was so close to Lars.

"I'm afraid until she gets her memory back...Lars is her...new best friend." Pearl answered sadly. This really did seem like all her fault and she felt so ashamed of herself.

"Well, we'll just leave Spinel here with all of you. I'm sure you can make her remember in no time." The right rutile twin said with a smile before turning for the door.

Lars offered them all a nervous smile before he headed for the door as well, only to be stopped when he felt Spinel grab his hand in an attempt to come with him.

"Huh? Oh, no, Spinel, you stay here." Lars said with a forced smile.

"What are you talking about? I can't leave my best friend all alone," she replied cheerfully.

Pearl sighed sadly, "Lars I...know it's an inconvenience, but would you mind letting Spinel stay close to you until we help her to remember? ...Spinels like to be with their best friends and I don't want to stress her too much while she's like this."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Steven interjected. "She's not gonna live him."

"I just wanna go lay down..." groaned Lars, regretting his decision to help them find her now.

"Lay down? That sounds like a fun game! Let's go play it together!" Spinel exclaimed.

"NOPE!" Steven at once, immediately uncomfortable with the image of Spinel lying in bed with Lars. "That ain't happening!"

Pearl scanned her brain, trying to think of someway to fix this. Steven was already so upset with her.

"Oh, um, Spinel..." Pearl began with a soft, forcefully cheerful voice.

"Perhaps you and Lars would like to have a slumber party here tonight?"

"What?!" Lars demanded as his voice got a little higher.

"Oooooh, what's that? Is it fun?" Spinel asked, bouncing lightly in place.

"So much fun," pearl replied. Spinel may have lost her memories, but Pearl still knew how to handle her. After all, it was her job to do so when they first met. "You will get to stay here with Lars and all of other friends."

Spinel clapped her hands excitedly, "yaaaay! That sounds great! What do you think, Lars?" Asked Spinel as she hugged his arm.

Lars and Steven both looked down at her hands as they held onto Lars' arm.

"I don't like this," stated the two boys with a frown.

A/N: So here’s the thing, a jealous Steven is my life fuel.