#i took a break from it. its been two or three months since that folder was last opened (and if i did open it. i didnt do anything)

[skeletoninthemelonland]

😭😭

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Infestation.

Written for a lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Gyutaro x Reader (Demon Slayer).

Word Count: 3.5k.

TW: Modern AU, Implied Non//Con, Long-Term Stalking, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Voyueristic Themes, Blood/Bruising, and Mentions of Cannibalism.

You only got to tour the apartment once before you signed the lease.

A ‘realtor’ with piercing eyes and silver hair met you at the door twenty minutes late with a heavy ring of keys in one hand and a disposable cup from an upscale coffee-chain in the other, muttering something about traffic as she let you into the dank, dark space. She explained, as she shoved open creaking doors and tried her best to clear the dust off neglected furniture, that her uncle owned the building, that she and her brother had stayed here for a while before she found another place on the other side of town. You asked if her family was close-nit, and she looked away, mumbling ‘something like that’ under her breath. You asked if she did this kind of thing for her uncle often, and she gave you a strange look and didn’t answer. You didn’t have the courage to press the topic. She had the kind of presence that made you want to shrink into yourself, to agree with everything she said and do anything and everything you could not to get on her nerves. If, at any point, she’d put a contract in front of you and told you to sign on the dotted line, you probably would’ve done it. If the apartment hadn’t been in the state it was, you probably would’ve asked her for it yourself, just to try and get on her good side.

The space itself was, somehow, even worse than the listing had made it out to be. The lights flickered, the walls were water-stained, and you couldn’t fully open the fridge door without lodging the handle against the cabinets on the opposite side of the kitchen. If you hadn’t been so desperate, you might’ve walked out in the first fifteen minutes, but you were, so you held your tongue and nodded along and let her sit you down in front of a manilla folder, already plotting out how you’d politely refuse and thank her for her time and beg the owner of the studio a few blocks north to give you another chance. That was what you thought you were going to do, at least, until you saw the rent.

“That’s… not what it was on the listing,” you muttered.

“That’s the rate. Take it or leave it.”

“Without utilities?”

“With. But you’re on your own if you want cable.”

“When would I be able to move in?”

“If you can get me out of here in an hour or less, whenever the hell you want.”

You signed everything she put in front of you, barely bothering to pretend to read the countless forms. She left you the keys, apologized for how loud the other tenants could be (something that must’ve changed since she moved out, you guessed – the entire floor was dead quiet), and in two days, your former roommates had sent you off with a tearful goodbye and, for the first time in longer than you could remember, you finally had room to breathe. A musky, beige room that you were pretty sure you’d have to have fumed sooner or later, but still – room to breathe.

And you were thankful for it. At first, at least, you were thankful for it.

~

And then, three months in, things started to go missing.

Which wasn’t that bad, on its own. You’d lost things before, and you weren’t the kind of person who’d break out the salt and thyme the first time one of your socks went missing, or you couldn’t find a pen you just seen a few days ago, or a mug you could’ve sworn you’d left on your bedside table the night before somehow made its way to your kitchen counter by the next morning, its contents drained but its clay handle still warm. You took it in stride.  You laughed and smiled as you told your friends about the soft creaking you would sometimes hear coming from just behind drywall, the creepy stains on the bathroom floor that just barely look like dried blood when you squint, and you ignored what you couldn’t brush off so easily, kept the hours you spent lying awake at night because you just can’t shake the feeling of unblinking eyes prying into your flesh, the bruises and cuts you’ve decided to blame on thin mattresses and sharp corners to yourself.

You didn’t tell anyone when your missing things started reappearing, either.

Not that you really could. You didn’t know how you’d start to explain the cold feeling of dread that knotted in your chest as you lingered in the doorway to your bedroom, how to laugh as you told someone, anyone about the tattered remains of a shirt you hadn’t seen in weeks that were currently spread across your bed – all ripped to shreds and stained with the same chalky, white substance you couldn’t bring yourself to give a name to. It was all you could do to stare at the mess from a distance, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to ignore the bitter taste rising up from the back of your throat. Your closest neighbor was two floors down, and you’d only spoken a handful of words to the building’s other occupants as a whole, but still, half-formed fears of faceless stalkers and angered spirits gnawed at the back of your mind. It was probably--

Mice, you decided. It was probably mice. You didn’t know what an infestation looked like, never had to deal with one before, but for what you were paying for a place like this, there were bound to be mice. That’s all it could’ve been. Cute, harmless mice.

Still, you never found it in yourself to tell anyone about your little infestation.  

~

And then, seven months in, the realtor let herself into your apartment.

It was a small miracle that you’d been awake at the time, that you were buried in a small mountain’s worth of blankets on your worn-out couch, reading some mindless contemporary romance when you heard the lock click, when you saw the same young woman who’d shown you around that first day step over the threshold – her expression one of mild annoyance and more than a trace of exasperation. She didn’t seem to notice you, not at first, not until you cleared your throat, sitting up in a half-hearted effort to make yourself more presentable. You tried to think of something to say, to ask if there was an emergency, but instead, made that much meeker and that much smaller by her aura alone, you just found yourself mumbling, “Can I help you?”

Her eyes widened as she shot to face you, her shock apparent. “You’re still here?”

“…yes?” Were you not supposed to be? You weren’t sure how long your lease was supposed to last, hadn’t talked to the landlord beyond a single, minute-long call when you first signed on. You’d been paying your rent, but still, there might’ve been a notice that you missed, a clause that’d slipped your mind. You didn’t know why the landlord would choose to address that by asking his niece to barge into your apartment in the middle of the night, but the panic remained. “Is something wrong?”

Her lips quirked, something coming across her features that you weren’t able to read in the dim light. “You’ve been away, though, right? On vacation? Staying at a friend’s house?”

“No, I… Was I supposed to be?” You pushed yourself to your feet. “Is there something wrong with the building?”

“The building’s not the fucking problem,” she snapped. You recoiled, but she didn’t seem to care, just letting out an irritated groan as she went on. “He knows he’s not supposed to take this long. Muzan’s going to be—” She cut herself off, throwing her head back and rubbing her temples. She clenched her eyes shut, and only when she opened them again did she seem to notice your discomfort, your muted distress. Just as quickly as she lost her composure, she regained it, her sneer softening into a small smile and her posture straightening until she looked not like a woman who’d walked into someone else’s apartment with no warning or explanation, but a passing acquaintance you’d been the one to approach and who was simply too polite to tell you that she had better places to be. “My apologies for the disturbance. I’ll make sure to call ahead, next time.”

She waited for you to nod, to pretend you knew what she was talking about before starting back toward the door, leaving just as suddenly as she’d come. Without giving yourself time to think, you rushed after her, leaning against the doorframe. You couldn’t imagine how she’d gotten here. The lights hadn’t worked since the day you moved in, and the hallway was as pitch-black and as endless as it’d ever been. “Wait!” She glanced over her shoulder, her smile already strained. You drew back, but forced yourself to go on. “It’s not a big deal, but I think this building might have a rat problem.”

She took a moment to respond.

Finally, as her grin broadened, she said, “There aren’t any rats.”

That night, you woke up screaming, covered in your own blood, and missing a piece of your thigh.

~

And then, a year after you first set foot in that godforsaken apartment, you met him.

‘Met’ might’ve been the wrong word. It implied something soft, something cute, something harmless – like mice or ghost stories or miscommunications. From the moment you snapped awake, a searing pain in your shoulder and hot blood already drenching your chest, he was all aggression, all bared teeth and dark eyes and gore-soaked lips curling back into a smile just as sickening as that of the woman who had to be his sister, if only because you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that your misery extended beyond the reach of their fucked-up family.

You couldn’t bring yourself to believe this was happening at all, but if you had to, you were going to tell yourself you had someone, other than yourself, to blame.

He was on top of you, straddling your waist, one hand planted next to your head and the other curled loosely around your throat, his palm pressing the delicate junction between your windpipe and diaphragm, making it difficult to manage anything but quick, shallow breaths. He’d never been this close before. You’d seen him out of the corner of your eye, occasionally – little, half-remembered blurs in the darkness; distorted splotches you’d tried to write off as depressions in the drywall or a trick of your own paranoia-ridden mind – but never like this, never close enough to see the muddled whites of his eyes, the pale grey tenor of his skin, the sharpened points of his teeth where your blood didn’t quite blot them out. On instinct, you tried to sit up, to bolt from underneath him, but he only had to flex his hand where it was wrapped around your neck and you were frozen, not willing to test his patience or your own perseverance. You didn’t know if he was strong enough to snap your neck, but he’d already proven that he could tear you apart. If he hadn’t already decided he was going to eat you alive, you’d rather not do anything to put the idea in his head.

You did what you could to go limp, to seem as small and unimposing as possible, and yet, he still let out a breathy chuckle as he shoved you downward – until your back was flat against the mattress and he was allowed to hover as far above you as possible, casting himself as something endlessly strong and impossible to grasp and impossible to escape as anything else that lurked in the dark.

“Easy, now. Wouldn’t want to get yourself hurt, would ya?” His voice was as terrible as the rest of him, raspy and barely audible yet dripping with corrosive, acidic arrogance at the same time. “It’d be a shame if you made be bruise that pretty skin. Loses some of its flavor if you beat it up too much.”

So he was going to eat you. You couldn’t pretend to be surprised, couldn’t say a nightmare featuring fanged monsters with hungry mouths hadn’t accompanied every new missing chunk of flesh and discolored bitemark, but your breath still hitched in your throat, your body going tense beneath him. Your distress was muted, but not subtle enough to escape his prying eyes. His grin widened, the corners of his lips cracking and splitting open. “You scared, little mouse?”

You hesitated, thinking for a moment before nodding. There was a bark of a laugh, a row of blunt nails burrowed into the space just below your jugular. “What do you think I’m going to do to you?” He asked, arching his back and leaning toward you, coming close enough for the tips of his messy hair to brush against your skin. “Tear you apart? Gut you and keep your hollowed-out husk as a trophy?”

There wasn’t a delay, this time. It was all you could do to wait until he’d finished to spit out the one thing you couldn’t seem to get off your mind. “Eat me.”

There was a long pause, agonizing and infinite.

Then, something sparked behind his eyes, and his smile took on a sickening lilt.

You could practically hear your heart beating out of your check, feel something deep in your chest twist and writhe as he dipped even lower; his face soon buried in the small of your neck. His hand fell away, drifting lower – his fingertips skirting over your side, groping softly at your hip before drifting to your wrist, to your hand. There was a clumsy attempt made to intertwine his fingers with yours, not helped by your own unchallenged immobility, but eventually, he managed to take your hand in his own. His skin was cold to the touch, and yet, you still felt like you were burning wherever his body pressed against yours. “No, no, I’m not gonna do anything to hurt ya. Not that badly, at least.” His voice lightened, his drawl softening around the edges. Like he was trying to calm you down. Like he thought anything he said could possibly calm you down. “I don’t have the stomach to binge like that. The last guy Daki dragged in wasn’t like you. All muscle, no flavor, had to choke down every bite. I would’ve swallowed you whole as soon as you as walked through that door just to get the taste out of my mouth, but you looked so damn cute, all oblivious and shit – I just didn’t have the heart to.”

 He straightened his back, but didn’t pull away. Rather, he stayed as close to you as possible, his scarred lips brushing against your neck, then your shoulder, finally settling on your collarbone. He couldn’t be human. You didn’t decide that, you knew it. Nothing human or mortal or natural would have so many scars, or be so pale, or have teeth so sharp – even the gentlest touches violent enough to break the skin. Not that he tried very hard to be gentle. There was the faint feeling of rough lips ghosting over your skin, and then a sharp, sudden piercing sensation; flesh and muscle splitting apart underneath the first hint of pressure. “Not that I didn’t want to,” he muttered, his breath cold against your skin. “Do you know how long it’s been since I had a decent fucking meal? If I had my sister’s self-restraint, I’d already be down to the bones.”

And yet, he didn’t stop himself from latching onto the shallow scrape, his tongue running over your skin as he let out a deep, guttural moan, the sound only slightly stifled by his proximity. You held your breath, clenching your eyes shut as he lapped up the thin trail of blood that flowed outward, over your chest. Visions of hearts torn from chests and pale hands digging through split-open stomachs flitted through your mind, but in the end, he only jerked back was a sharp laugh – more lively than it’d ever been before. There was a certain light to his eyes now, too, a new sense of rejuvenation you almost couldn’t bring yourself to recognize in the same creature who’d stalked you for months, who’d knocked on your walls and watched you at night and given you so many chances to run away, so many chances that you’d been too hopeful and too idiotic to take. You felt him shifting above you, heard your sheets rustle, and you braced yourself, going stiff in preparation for a pointed nail stabbed into your throat, or a skull-crushing blow to your head, or--

Or, for him, it, whatever he was, to kiss you.

You hadn’t known to expect it would be as brutal as it was. What little delicacy, what little gentleness he had was gone. For longer than seemed possible, your world was one of clashing teeth and probing hands and lips pushed against yours with enough force to bruise. You didn’t know whether or not he was trying to scare you, but the gesture was more violent than affectionate – messy and overwhelming and enough to have you on the edge of tears by the time he drew back, panting. He opened his mouth, but you were already talking, words spilling from your lips without reservation. Appeals to ‘please, don’t hurt me’ blurring with an incoherent blend of ‘don’t kill me’ and ‘I’ll do anything’ – anything you could think of, anything that might’ve gotten him to give you the space to breathe. Some of it made sense, most of it didn’t, and all of it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

If he was listening, if he cared, none of it earned anything more than a wry smile, a soft kiss to the top of your head. At that point, you were so desperate, so distressed, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into it – only whimpering as he hummed gently and drew you upward, until you were the one sitting in his lap, cradled in his arms. It occurred to you, not for the first time, how much bigger his frame was than yours, how small you felt in his arms. Like a bird with an injured wing, unable to fly and trapped in.

Like a mouse, your neck already snapped by the impartial hammer and your body caught in the maw of something much larger and much more dangerous than yourself.

“You’re shaking.” He was laughing, but you were. You couldn’t stop. Your body refused to listen to you, to push him away, to run, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from shivering – trembling violently enough for it to border on convulsions. “What’d I tell you the first time you freaked out, huh?”

That he liked the way you tasted. That he’d been watching you for months. That he’d thought about killing you and, if he got hungry enough, he’d probably think about it again.

You swallowed, willing the knot of dread at the back of your throat to loosen. “That you weren’t going to hurt me.”

“And you don’t think I’d lie to you, do ya?”

It would’ve been kinder if he did, if he pretended to be something remotely human. “I don’t.”

“Because I haven’t, and I’m not. That’d just be a waste, 'specially when I haven’t gotten half of what I want out of ya, yet.” You were dragged away from his chest, poised to face him. You were given a few seconds to stare up at him through the darkness, to try to begin to process what was happening, what he was doing, before a scarred palm was cupping your cheek, before he was kissing you, again – shallowly, fleetingly, before moving upward, pressing his lips against your forehead and dipping back toward your neck.

This time, he wasn’t content just to content just to hold your hand. You could feel his fingertips skirting over your thighs, leaving strips of numbness spreading across whatever he made contact with, making an attempt at delicacy before his attention drifted and his touch grew rougher, his hold bruising, his skin frigid where it pressed against yours. Against your better judgement, you leaned into your paralysis, not returning his bizarre affection, but making no effort to push him away, either. You tried to hold yourself straight, but not stiff, to keep your eyes open and your jaw locked into place, but even your neutrality was enough to encourage him, to spur him forward. You barely had time to brace yourself before you were being shoved downward once again, before you were being pinned against your own thin mattress with enough force for the jutting springs to dig into your back. Again, he was above you, and again, you were powerless beneath him, just as scared as you’d been when he was just a ghost of fear lurking in your peripheral.

“Don’t worry, little mouse.”

Just as helpless as you’d been when you couldn't see the threat at all.

“I’m takin’ care of you, now.”

[jae-canikeepyou]

| adjacent | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 18k+ (unedited & not proof read)

summary: jaehyun turns into a golden retriever whenever the day reaches the most beautiful time; golden hour. a secret he kept his entire life & always wonders how long he could keep it, especially when you suddenly showed up.

genre: au + golden retriever!jaehyun + hs!nct

a/n: idk what came to me as i brainstormed this but by now, nctzens and valentines should know jaehyun’s a golden retriever :3 so i decided to write a plot for this adorable fact T^T heavily inspired with fruits basket and beauty & the beast! i really hope you’ll like it. lmk what you think! enjoy reading lovelies! ~j

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time was ticking real quick.

he rushed through the bustling people, avoiding the narrow crowds and jay-walked countless pedestrian crossings. he needed to hide. no one should see him transform. there was little time left. why was he so careless each time this happened? his parents and younger brother warned him to be alert at all times. did he listen? no, never did. they compared him to a rock— hard headed and stubborn. but all he ever wanted was to be free.

curses! just a little more, a few metres more! he pant as he tried to catch air. he felt his flesh tingling, his senses doubling and tripling. jaehyun peddled as fast as he could, at least reach the line of bushes by the basketball court. hopping over the plants, he threw his bag aside and jumped off his bike before bracing for the fall.

the now broken bell sounded horrible as jaehyun’s brother caught up to him with his skateboard. “dad’s gonna kill you if you ask for another bike for your birthday.” he sighed looking at the loosened chain while picking up the single-track vehicle and the scattered clothes.

jaehyun transformed to a golden retriever puppy and struggled to come out of the bushes with his tiny paws and body. when he succeeded, he scratched the back of his ears to brush off the leaves stuck to them. “won’t happen, sungchan. i’ve already saved up enough by then. i’m not gonna burden dad for my wants.”

sungchan pressed the bridge of his nose. “you’re kinda being a burden now.” he picked the animal— his brother— up and put him inside his coat, as well as the belongings on the ground. he hopped on the bike and headed towards jaehyun’s campus.

“what did you say?” jaehyun barked tried opening the zipper from the inside of sungchan’s coat.

“nothing.” the younger excused. “but can i have your bike if you actually plan to get a new one?”

“ugh just bring me to the court. i’ll be late for my morning practice.”

the brothers were able to communicate telepathically as they’re related and were both cursed. instead of golden hour, sungchan transforms during the blue hour, which occured at twilight. tracing back to their ancestors, all were cursed for unknown inexplainable circumstances. they tried breaking it with all they could. every idea ended a failure. so they had to live through it, adjust, adapt and be alert.

they bumped into ten, kun and jungwoo, who were doing warm-ups and they simultaneously trailed their eyes and heads towards the jung brothers. seeing the huge pouch on sungchan’s stomach area, they all cracked up and checked the time. “oh yeah, it’s sunrise.” jungwoo spun the ball on his pointer finger.

ten grabbed the pup with one hand and jaehyun barked at him but he couldn’t understand a thing. although he was confused, he continued to carry him in his palm because jaehyun’s response was funny. “what is he trying to say?” he chuckled and poked the pup’s snout.

“he said ‘it hurts. put me down idiot’. i have to be honest with you hyung. holding us by the back of the neck really hurts.” unlike his brother, he was rather calm and collected despite already imagining the pain.

“you’re a blue holland lop bunny. it’s normal to carry you like this too right?” ten showed the pup to sungchan.

kun facepalmed at the question and took jaehyun. “no dimwit it’s not normal. sorry jae. you know he just likes teasing your puppy form.”

“‘wait until i turn back’- ugh seriously do i really have to translate hyung’s words every time?” sungchan gave jaehyun’s clothes and bike to jungwoo. “you know what to do when he transforms back yeah?”

they nodded and upon seeing the kid leave and headed towards his campus, jaehyun couldn’t wait to turn human. he would always beat ten up almost immediately— sometimes forgetting that he was naked. for the dudes it was alright. the problem was if he was with girls, though he hasn’t encountered anyone so far. he hoped he didn’t have to.

the harsh drills from basketball practice already sucked the energy out of jaehyun. not only that it was physically tiring, transforming into a dog twice a day before that have doubled the strain. then him transforming back would cause migraines and painful joints, as they were the aftermath of the curse. he had to keep his title of m.v.p and captain since the told them there was a possibility of him of having a scholarship for college. he couldn’t let a minor pain hinder that chance. not ever.

however, ten and the others could read his suffering. to them it was obvious through his exhales and slowing speed. hiding it was of no use. jungwoo ruffled his hair with a clean towel after shower. “can’t you just be like that dog in the movie ‘up’? have a collar that translates barks into actual language?”

jaehyun rolled his eyes and wore his black t-shirt. “it’s a damn movie, jungwoo. the world might’ve evolved and advanced in technology and even if they were to exist they’d be expensive. can’t afford that.”

“you sound negative, don’t you have any hope at all?” kun joined the conversation.

“never had any. stopping this curse is impossible. it’s been generations. my dad’s still suffering too. i have to find a way.” he fixed his black cap in front of a mirror.

but he knew there wasn’t. silence loomed above them as the team struggled to continue the topic. they tried not to bring it up yet each time they did, it always ended awkwardly and badly. it was either they riled jaehyun’s mood— mostly ten— or jaehyun himself was building his own raincloud by sulking about it and not looking at the bright side.

how ironic it was, he thought. generally speaking, even though being golden had good intentions and the breed was meant to bring happiness to others, he felt the total opposite. if he had to describe it, it was all insecurity, lowered his self-esteem and hopelessness only increased over the years as he grew.

thinking about it, he slammed the locker a little too hard that its components caused it to bounce back.. and also added to fuel of his anger. “break that again you’ll be in the coach’s office.” kun tied his shoelaces and the others agreed.

“my dad is the coach, what do you mean?” he questioned at the stupidity.

“you didn’t show up the last time it broke. we got the punished in your stead. uncle wasn’t happy.” ten got out of the showers last, a towel was wrapped around his waist before the younger ones were scarred for a second.

“it was sunset and i transformed! of all people dad’s supposed to understand! i-” jaehyun rubbed his face quite agressively and headed straight outside.

“oi i’m still changing! wait up!”

jaehyun kicked the bike’s stand attached to the rear wheel. he and his father didn’t have the best relationship compared with other kids, but he could say that it was better than the relationship he had with his mother. she loved her little family, yet over time the curse grew onto her. her husband would turn into a werewolf at full moon. and until now, even though that happened once month, she thought a part of him wasn’t the same person she loved before. even more so, when her sons were just the same as him.

your mom’s delusional! she doesn’t love us! she fears us!

that feeling stayed in the boys’ mind until they were old and mature enough to comprehend the situation they’re in. why couldn’t she love them like any mom would? she was no different from an animal mother abandoning her calf/pup just because they were or had defects.

mr. jung tried his best to be the perfect father, for only he understood what his two sons were going through, as they might go through decades with it, just like he was. jaehyun still remembered his first transformation, he only had puppy paws, but that was a sign to mr. jung that he indeed inherited the curse. when sungchan grew a tail at a fine age of one, their father gave up his 9-5 hour office job to tend the boys. and that was before he became jaehyun’s basketball coach. now he could monitor them at a close range.

much to jaehyun’s dismay and for that reason, he felt more caged and overprotected.

—

“y/n! coach’s looking for you!” your classmate called.

no.. you groaned. again?..

it was already after school hours. you slouched on your desk as you covered your ears, remembering the errands he asked you to do previously. you didn’t know why, but ever since you had detention because you refused to run a 1600m marathon for an assessment, seemed like the other punishment was that he passed his job to you. that was a month ago, and today was the tenth time.

but curious as you were to find answers, you brushed it off and tried not to show any remorse. it’s all for conduct, you kept telling yourself. the whistle echoed the entire hallway and jolting you up in your seat. “okay, okay! hold on!” you yelled from the back of the classroom.

as coach jung stood rather comfortably outside the room, he gestured you to walk faster with a dimpled smile. “y/n! took you approximately three minutes to walk here.” he laughed and handed you several files and a zipper folder.

“thanks for counting?..” you replied with a confused and questioning tone. “coach, what’s this?”

“all school sports teams will have an annual retreat before their playoff seasons. i need a representing manager since ours was admitted to a hospital just today.” he pointed at the list. you followed his finger and it landed on your name.

“sounds like to me it’s more practice. and you want me to go because?” you raised your brows. he asked you to follow him to the gymnasium, in which it was making you recall all those extra detention after school.

“to make up with all of the p.e assessments you ‘purposely’ missed.” he said proudly while looking at his team doing drills. but he didn’t get any response from you. when he looked on his side, you were gone and ran across the basketball gym. “y/f/n!”

you squealed as embarrassment crawled your entire body. not only were you escaping from coach, you were disrupting the team’s practice and hitting couple of duffel bags and water bottles. “ah! sorry! coming through!”

*whistles* “after her!” coach jung’s voice added an extra chill to your spine.

“ugh why us?” ten groaned with sore muscles as coach gestured to them widely.

“just go.” kun panted.

then you heard a several footsteps turn into drums until they sounded a stampede. you jumped on your toes as you passed the line of showers cubicles. good thing you haven’t seen a naked man, or else you’d faint without knowing. you turned around and went straight ahead then to your right, and hid in a random room. the echoing voices and squeaking friction between shoes and waxed floors were cut to a silence, like your ears were muffled instantly.

your wobbly legs were tired and you were sighing in exhaustion and crouched down against the door. great, i’ll stay out of their sight- “what are you doing here?” you heard a low voice and froze on the spot. “only members of the basketball team can access the meeting room.”

that sounded like the captain.

“did you hear what i just said?” he raised his brows. you slowly lifted your eyes from his shoes to his legs, then to his built and face. “well if you’re a nobody you might as well leave before coach arrives. you interrupted my recording-”

“i heard you jung jaehyun.” you tsked and realised you had the name list on your hand. “ah, as a matter of fact, i can be here because i am part of the team. my name’s on the list.” you grabbed a pen and ticked the empty box on the paper.

what are you saying, stupid?!

“uh-huh..” jaehyun trailed, putting down his camera.

“y-yeah!” you stuttered. “you heard me.”

the door shook by the loud knocks from the other side. on the frosted window, you could see four figures. orange and black jerseys, they must be the team members. “ah! the door’s locked! she’s definitely in here coach!” one said.

“i’ll toss you the keys!” he yelled. oh crap. you were caught in between. your heart patterned with the knocks.

“you look terrified after hearing coach, y/n.” the chair squeaked from the weight. “i’m guessing you’re that troublesome student he has a hard time dealing with recently?”

of course captain knows you. great reputation you have, y/n.

“so? what’s your point?” you stood up to see his amused grin.

“say hello to a term’s detention.” jaehyun waved as the door swung open, revealing ten, kun, jungwoo and.. the coach.

you sighed heavily and dropped the papers. the coach crossed his arms and you lowered your head a little. “you plan to escape again y/n? then i shouldn’t hear any excuses from you. you’ll join us for the twelve day retreat. period.” he picked the papers up and wrote something.

“sir i can’t be with a bunch of jocks for that long!” your whine had the captain blocking his ears. “i have debate finals to attend to.”

jaehyun flinched at the high pitched sound and rolled his eyes. what was your deal? it was rude of you to suddenly barge into athlete’s quarters but judging them for that was even more rude of you. he had to shut you up at some point.

“so much excuses.” he played with his nails and to you he looked more amused than ever. you rolled your eyes at his chuckle and know he would target you from now on. “dad, y/n told me she’s ‘part of the team’.” he played his video that recorded your voice, clearly saying what jaehyun heard.

coach jung looked rather surprised, but his smile definitely screamed happy. “oh? that’s all i needed to hear. welcome, uh- temporarily. i’ll inform mrs. park about the situation.”

nononono- “i did this.” you were at a loss for words. “i won’t be able to compete in the debate.”

“yeah pretty much you made the wrong decision.” jaehyun stood to tower over you. “i’d like to see you suffer our drills-”

four knocks cut jaehyun off. “oh no, she’ll only do those for two days.”

you swifted your head in confusion, seeing coach jung wrote down your schedule on the white board. you were packed and it’s a lot worse than the actual assessment planned in school. “and what about the rest of the ten days?!” you exasperated that your hairtie snapped at the right moment, and your hair fell in sightful way.

“ooh that was hot.” ten commented in soft whisper, causing kun and jungwoo nudge him on the each side.

“she’ll be our manager for the remaining days, keep track of our drills and score points, or other extra things i needed a hand with while taeyang’s in the hospital.”

jaehyun rested his palms on his waist, swirling his tongue inside with a provoking gaze at you. “see if you can keep up, manager.” he chuckled.

you checked the time, it was nearing 5 p.m. “you know what, give me a day to process all this sport thing. it’s close to evening and i have to get going-”

“it’s evening already?” jaehyun cut you off as he looked outside the window.

the sun glistening at the distance while the sky showed a pretty ombré of warm colours. his senses doubled again and his whole body ached. he had to make you leave. it was already enough that his friends knew about his situation. there’d only be more trouble if you knew too.

“uh duh? the clock’s right there.” you pointed.

“hm, anyway you have to leave now.”

“sheesh i was going to anyway.” you rolled your eyes, but felt jaehyun’s palms behind your back. “hey stop pushing!”

“you’re too slow!” his tone changed. different than the usual because panic was what you felt from his palms. “quickly!”

the rest of the boys could tell you were pissed. they couldn’t understand why jaehyun had to make a fuss out of it when all he had to do was to kindly ask you. using force would only cause misunderstandings, like what’s happening now. “hey what’s your deal?!” you flicked his arms. “do you like to push people around? just because i’ll be with the team for the next two weeks, that doesn’t mean you could treat me like this already!”

“tsk so noisy! you’re wasting time! just leave would you?!” jaehyun turned you around towards the door.

this time you wouldn’t budge. “no jung jaehyun i need an explanation with this stupid attitude of yours!” you wriggled off of his hold, pushing him back with pats several times more that he stepped backwards.

“i don’t owe you an explanation!”

“you definitely do?!”

“why can’t you listen to what i say?”

“why can’t you stop being pushy, pushy?”

“you’re the one pushing me! time’s ticking y/n!”

the continuous back and forth of bickers and the war of pushing each other was an idiotic sight. your wrist was in jaehyun’s palms as he gripped you tighter. “i don’t care captain jerk! it wouldn’t bother you or hurt you to just give me one reason- and he slammed the door at my face! argh!”

jaehyun smirked wide and proudly knowing that he ‘won’ argument. silencing you was better than letting you see his other form. the boys stared him once he turned around to face them. “what?” he questioned,

“definitely not the right way to treat a girl.” they all said simultaneously.

“you know how bad it makes me feel when you all said it at the same time?” jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose.

he knew well enough that this wasn’t his usual self. he’s good friends with you despite being in different teams of the school. you both took literature as your electives. sometimes you’d let him copy your notes when he had matches or leave small appetisers and juice cartons when he was tired and vice versa.

but no matter how close you both were, he couldn’t afford to let you see his other self.

not just yet.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

waking up so early in the day to assist the team was way more annoying than birds chirping by your bedroom’s window. instead of hearing their tuneful tweets, you had to endure endless phone calls every minute. you couldn’t remember much from that day because you passed out. and the team didn’t look for you until yesterday.

coach jung waved to catch your attention, only to be greeted with your huge yawn and a disinterested face.

“ah there she is! c’mon now, i got the green light from mrs. park. she agreed that p.e is the only subject you’re likely to fail this semester, so she’s giving you a cool-off from the team and focus on here.”

“yep. heard you coach.” you tied up your hair, only listening to half of what he said. “where’s the captain?”

kun did few stretches & jumps, his expression mirrored the other two boys who were also doing the same. you had a feeling about this— their telepathic gaze and awkward silence. you took a basketball to pass it to ten. “is he still mad about me calling him a jerk? that was a few days ago and i didn’t expect him to be that sensitive.”

they laughed because they couldn’t deny his obvious trait. “he doesn’t show it but somehow you know he is.” ten passed the ball back to you. “but not this morning y/n. he’s late for.. another reason.”

you hopped to catch it yet you were a second late, and groaned as you had to run far to retrieve it. “uh-huh. nature calls in the morning, again?” you yelled.

“do you think she knows about jaehyun?” jungwoo asked the older ones. they eyed you rummaging in the bushes for the ball, later looking back at each other for answers, but no one knew how your mind worked. “it’s been five days and no word from her at all.”

“if she actually does, i guess she just doesn’t want to be involved? i think we can trust her for that.” kun drank from his bottle.

ten didn’t look convinced. “involved or not, we have to make sure she doesn’t tell anyone about jaehyun’s curse. keep an eye on her-”

“ah!” they heard your squeals and ruffles from the bushes. “guys look what i found!”

kun sighed when they saw you running back with a golden retriever puppy in your arms, taking back his words said earlier.

“uh-oh. that scream means she has no clue at all.” jungwoo brushed his hair up.

“this puppy is so cute! i wonder what it’s doing here? are you lost?” you hugged and sniffed into its fur and gosh it smelled like vanilla shampoo. there was a metal collar around its neck, the piece spelled “jj”. “aww it has a name!”

no matter how happy you looked from the boys, they couldn’t help but take a photo of you and ‘puppy’ jaehyun. they had to tell you before it was too late. the golden hour in the morning was shorter than sunset, so either they would tell you straight up, or let jaehyun transform back to human.

but guess what? they were too late. they shouldn’t have second-guessed.

what had happened was way beyond your comprehension. it was in an instant. all it felt in totality was that, you weren’t carrying a puppy anymore. you lost balance and the weight in your arms doubled or tripled, you couldn’t tell. but you knew you were falling backwards. was there to brace for impact? none.

you blinked several times from the orange sunrise blinding your vision from the window. slowly you got up to sit and soothe the pain. that hurt..

here’s the thing. remember you mentally told yourself you hoped you didn’t run into any naked boy in the basketball team’s showers? there you have it. you jinxed it. jaehyun’s figure was on top of yours and you knew he had no clothes on. oh goodness.

“hyung? you forgot your lunch box- oh.” sungchan barged in the scene and everyone could tell he sort of malfunctioned. he froze then facepalmed.

you took turns into looking at the embarrassed jaehyun and at the boys who whistled to avoid the numbers of questions you were going to ask.

kun quickly shielded your eyes where your doubts were showing in your face. and no matter how much thought hard, you just couldn’t believe it. with fear written all over you, you dusted your pants and hands reached kun’s arm to support your weight.

“oh so you shielded her eyes but not my body?!” jaehyun’s voice entered your ears and you swore there was a hint of puppy whimper.

“this is a dream.. right?..” you asked before you fainted.

sungchan managed to save you from the fall. “whoa! ah, i had a feeling something like this would happen.”

—

“was she always like that?” minnie took a peep of your classroom, her eyes showed confusion. “is she tired?”

lisa shrugged and in her innocence she pursed her lips. “i don’t know. she’s been sighing a lot for the past hour? i wanna ask her but it might be too personal.”

you could her them and they were wrong. it was nothing personal at all. you’ve been sighing because you didn’t know how it was possible but it just happened— right before your eyes. since then you hoped that science could explain but not even the smartest people could give you a conclusion. you’ve been called out from lessons that came in the day and not that you didn’t blame jaehyun.

because for one thing, he at least told you the truth and the answer to your question as to why he had to make you leave that day. you propped your chin on your palms from jaehyun’s warning: “tell anyone i swear i’ll make you run a hundred laps with no water breaks.”

but the other thing? he was naked. and that’s not something you could erase in your memories overnight.

you let out a small whine that led to minnie and lisa copying your position, obviously making fun of you. “seriously, not a good time.” you laid on the table and hid from them. “don’t ask me anything.”

minnie and lisa looked at each other as you were being unreasonable and already gotten them curious with your remark. they both grabbed each of your arm, tugging on your sleeves where they begged nonstop for you tell them what had happened. they knew it was about the basketball team.

since you started to train and be with them, you’ve never complained. because if you did, coach jung would add another exercise for you, in which you knew you couldn’t handle. broken bones and sore muscles awaited for you. so you chose not to utter a single sigh, but you were careless just now and there was no escaping from these best friends of yours.

“c’mon y/n! tell us the deets! you sighing could only mean one thing.. did someone confess to you?” minnie closed her eyes and a wide smile suddenly became shrieks of laughter when you facepalmed. “oh who in the basketball team confessed?” she singsonged.

it’s not really a confession, jaehyun being a golden puppy is a secret that was never meant to be revealed but i happened to see him transform-

“what if it’s not a guy? maybe two? or three? oh gosh this is like a reverse harem anime-” lisa began to hype an awful assumption but you covered her lips. and plus? her voice was loud and how embarrassing it would be when the rest of the class heard it.

you were already restless at their energy. “none you idiots. i was sighing because i didn’t know that people with dimples would be that attractive.” you tried to divert the topic.

“pfft you’re talking about jung jaehyun?” lisa raised her brows and grinned teasingly to get a reaction from you.

“no, i’m taking about coach jung.” you hit her arm.

“but jaehyun’s his carbon copy, so you’re basically saying he’s handsome too.” minnie quickly rebutted.

“i mean, coach’s the original face so he’s definitely more handsome-” you paused. shoot they nearly got you to a corner. “wait- why are we talking about this? i thought we’re talking about me.”

“ah you were paying attention to our conversation?” minnie’s eyes grew.

“you’re not telling us anything dimwit.” lisa hit you back.

couple of squeals echoed the corridor and your classroom door crowded with people. apparently jaehyun stood by the door frame and scanned the room looking for you. when he spotted you, his face bubbled up and literally glided his way to your seat. you could tell he was slightly fuming, but you didn’t know what reason. “y/f/n! come here for a second!” he grabbed your wrists and pulled you up from your chair.

you tried to catch up with his pace as he continued to pull you. “let me go!”

jaehyun did in fact let go of you, but he instead led you to hit your back against numerous lockers. the squeals didn’t stop there and how that you were the centre of attention amongst all of the students, you had endure this for a little while. he was staring into your soul, eyes piercing that could strain yours, you knew he was pissed about something.

he slammed his forearms at the space right above your head, then the screams of giddy began to grow louder. you managed to see your friends at the far end of the corridor. they were smiling and lisa mouthed ‘kabedon’, making you flustered than you already were. “what do you want?” you asked.

“i thought i made myself clear?” jaehyun smirked as he felt you quiver against his skin. he leaned lower that his whispers tickled your ear. “did you tell anyone? your friends?”

“i’m not gonna risk my health for some dumb secret.” you rolled your eyes and crossed arms.

“please it’s not like our training puts your life on jeopardy-” jaehyun butted back.

“it’s safe with me. if there’s anything you’re worried about, just look at your fanbase. you’re making them sad.” you sighed, walking away and through the girls who has been following jaehyun around.

jaehyun exhaled at a rather slow pace. he liked your reaction and was aware of their presence. and in order to shoo them away, he had to do what he did. he just hoped you’d notice that too. “see you after school!” he yelled.

you briefly stopped in your tracks at his greet, you continued walking and pulled your girls away from the scene. you didn’t pay any attention, but you knew they couldn’t contain their smiles appearing on their faces.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the bags full of foldable cones fell to the floor. the rest of the team turned to your direction, who already made mistakes on the first day of camp. they knew that you were obviously flabbergasted with your encounter. it was funny that you managed to stride your way so quickly towards jungwoo— he was very much entertained with your expression. “i know right? that was me earlier.” he stroked the large pup.

“h-how did puppy grow so big? that’s an adult sized dog! you stuttered but hiding your love for golden retrievers just wasn’t possible. there were times you forgot that this was actually jaehyun. “it’s only been a week.”

“yeah i’d like to know the reason too.”

suddenly you heard jaehyun’s voice. it felt like he was close to your ears again, but he wasn’t anywhere near you.

remains of memories probably were still in you head. you wouldn’t say you were traumatised, just surprised. why the hell am i hearing his voice? you shook the thought off at first but then again-

oi y/n. beside you. i’m talking to you!

what?

you gasped and fell on your butt. the pup’s ears were on alert and you knew he was hearing you too. “you can hear me?” jaehyun’s dog form practically towered on your fallen self. you avoided his look although the pup was so cute. his paws poked your shoulders, whiskers twitching as he waited for your response. “don’t look away! you can hear me right??”

all the guys could see was jaehyun staring down at you. and while you did the same, your knitted brows only meant something was definitely going on. they wanted to know. “what’s wrong y/n?”

your lips shook in heavens knows it was fear. “you’re asking me what’s wrong? why can i hear jaehyun? can you hear jaehyun? oh my g- this is really really weird-”

“you can?” they scooted closer to you, very much intrigued with your gift.

“and you all can’t?” you pushed jaehyun away for his body was weighing you down. he whimpered and got up to sit in front of the boys too.

they shook their heads vigorously. “only sungchan and coach were able to hear him.” kun stated, typing on his cellphone to inform his family.

“y/n! let’s talk when i transform back!” jaehyun’s paws kept poking you again. you glared at him with a loud hiss. his ears were alert, he didn’t realise that he was clawing you already, and turned a few rounds before he was laying like a bagel-shaped position.

jaehyun thought it was pretty strange. never in his life were there any people who could actually converse with him telepathically. other than his family, you were the first and he was determined to find out why this impossibility was made possible. there was a spark of hope forming in his heart at this sudden revelation. the glow from the orange light then shone above your head, marking the end of sunrise.

you looked at jaehyun’s dog form, it was- correction, he was.. quiet, and was still staring at you as if you were his master. he laid on this front legs, snout on the ground. huh, he can actually be behaved. footsteps were closing in. at the distance, coach jung walked with lisa and minnie, who were in their cheerleading uniforms. right, you forgot that they were also included in the annual athletes camp.

for a moment you panicked because you knew jaehyun would transform back from being a dog. ten and rest knew more people shouldn’t know about jaehyun’s curse. they were glad you read the atmosphere too. seeing jaehyun’s jersey in his duffel bag, you grabbed it and wore it on the animal.

coach jung made eye contact to your direction. he diverted the girls’ attention, and led them away from the basketball court. they headed towards the storage to “retrieve” some equipment.

jaehyun grunted and growled, his fangs tried to bite your skin. however, goldens were known for having a soft jaw, so his bites weren’t that painful. when you finally managed to put the jersey on him, jungwoo couldn’t catch up. “why let him wear the jersey?” he questioned.

“so he wouldn’t transform back naked when lisa and minnie arrives.” you pointed out the obvious.

ten held his laugh in. you recognised this tone, and prepared what came after. “heh..” he trailed off. “is it because you want to keep jaehyun to yourself?”

you continuously threw random items at him as heat spread to your cheeks. “screw you!” you scoffed. “get jaehyun to wear his pants. i have to pack a lot of things before we head onto the bus.”

“yes ma’am.” ten nudged your shoulder. “i’m kidding y/n. don’t take my jokes seriously.“

“it’s fine.” you picked up the fallen cones. “you’re worried about people knowing his curse. so i’m just doing my part to keep it secret.”

he pursed his lips and his heart softened at your willingness to help. “hm, i guess i can trust you after all.” ten opened the bag to help you pack. “oh! and also, jae in his dog form already is naked anyway.”

“you think i’m not aware of that?” you rolled your eyes.

your friends already have settled themselves inside the coach bus and you were seated in between them. now they would get to witness you with the team and hoped for a budding romance with any of the boys. you lowered your face under a cap to pretend you were sleeping, but in reality you just wanted to avoid lisa and minnie’s bombardment.

few rows at front, jaehyun stared by the window, deep in thought. rarely spoke a word since they started their journey to the retreat campsite. why was his hunch telling him to get closer to you? why could you hear him and he could hear you? he slightly turned to his side between the gaps of two seats. seeing you giggling with your friends had him rethinking if what happened earlier was just his imagination. he wondered why you purposely ignore him after he transformed back.

he slid lower from his seat. “i’d understand if this was a soulmate thing, but it’s not.” jaehyun sighed heavily where he broke the silence and supposedly ending the conversation earlier. now that he wanted to talk about it, his friends were still up for the news.

“oh yeah. those things are going on. except it only happens to some people.” kun popped a chip in his mouth.

“i just don’t get it. dad told me that never occurred to anyone with this curse.” he stole the bag of chips from the younger one to relieve his emotions.

jungwoo’s pursed his lip in wonder. “maybe the curse in another light has its own blessing? maybe you guys are soulmates?”

“nah, impossible.” they all said simultaneously.

“it’s a possibility-” jungwoo’s face soured where wrinkles appeared on the sides as the boys flared at him.

jaehyun shrugged not knowing what to say. his friends have bizarre ideas throughout the journey, and he wouldn’t say they were wrong either. all he could do was to wait until the next transformation. maybe you would say your thoughts about it through telepathy.

he would know if time passed quickly when he didn’t pay attention to anyone. one of them was the number of times you waved in front of his face to snap him back to earth. “jaehyun?” you laid on the ground and called out, panting to catch air after your successful reps. you tugged the ends of his track pants.

“hm?” he hummed, looking for your voice until he got annoyed with your repetitive pulls of his clothes. “ah stop that. i have to report your record to coach. come with?”

“do i really have to?” you whined. “i could barely stand, my legs are wobbly and i’m hungry.”

jaehyun rolled his eyes and took your hand, pulling you up on your toes. “then let’s grab something to eat on our way to the camp, hm?”

you gulped at the sudden gesture, even more so when you noticed your heart beating faster around him. somehow your sixth sense told you your friends were somewhere in the woods looking at you, and you were right.

minnie had her binoculars by her eyes as you and jaehyun headed in another direction back to everyone else were. she held in her excitement with a huge inhale. out of curiosity lisa stole the binoculars from her. a growing smile showed her pearly whites when within its frame, jaehyun was pushing you from the back before he took your hand again because of how slow you were. “min, consider your reverse harem dream for y/n over. we found her leading man.”

—

“few more reps y/n! do it properly this time?”

jaehyun rubbed his face, raising his tone in question of your athleticism. it was the second and final day of your assessments. your core should be able to get used to the pressure if you’ve done the reps for two straight days. so as of today you salute to all people who persevered and with great stamina. you just.. weren’t that person.

you’ve grown conscious now that jaehyun’s friends were watching a few metres away. you’d prefer kun counting and timing your exercises over him. in contrast, kun’s a little more understanding than the hotheaded jaehyun. “if i say i can’t, shouldn’t you consider stopping here? it’s the last one anyway so put random number on the blank or something.” you struggled to lift yourself up from the ground, arms in an ‘x’ position over your torso.

“is that so? then you wouldn’t mind if i write ‘0’ for the final count?” jaehyun checked the stopwatch while his knees put enough weight on your feet. “at least do five more?” he sat on the soles of his shoes.

“ugh! fine!” you tsked and did sit ups slowly, eyes shut closed.

jaehyun smirked with how determined you were in finishing. and he has gotta credit you for having the last brain cell to endure his overly playful bossiness and plans up his sleeves.

but even his friends has something up in their sleeves. they whispered to each other and nodded heads as excitement already boosted their anticipation. ten cupped his mouth then giving the raised brows as signal to start. “y/n! jaehyun’s recording your expression with his phone!” ten yelled.

jungwoo’s mouth widened and followed along. “jae! there’s a bee behind you!”

“what?!”

“where?!”

the moment you froze and opened your eyes after bringing yourself up, and jaehyun leaned forwards to avoid the insect, was way too hilarious for the guys to see. both of your faces were centimetres away from each other and jaehyun’s ears already tinted pink. jaehyun already found it awkward to help you for three days, but he never prepared himself for something like this.

as his friends bursting out laughing, that was when he realised it was all their plan. you were still too close to him, so he cleared his throat to cut the gap between. “is that a pimple on your nose?” he asked, only for his nose to be smacked and soon be numbed. “agh!”

what the- “jerk! don’t point it out!” you kicked him and rolled sideways to stand up, angrily leaving the area with the sheet in your hands. “i’ll give this to the coach!”

jaehyun held his nose and walked back to the guys, who were still laughing their butts off and rolling on the ground. “you can stop now.”

“oh that was funny! it was like a typical ‘ba-dump’ scene in a rom-com!” jungwoo wiped a tear.

“should’ve recorded it!” kun threw his head back while his hand rested on his heaving chest.

“no worries! at least it’s recorded in jaehyun’s mind!” ten cheered with closed fists.

“it’s embarrassing!” jaehyun threw his towel.

bonfires were mandatory at the start and end of the camp. however, because of your assessment, coach jung had negotiate with the other members of the basketball to get to the campsite a day before the other teams actually arrived at night. so for the kun and the rest, they had a little more free time than jaehyun. and him being the coach’s son.. he didn’t have the same benefits. he was stuck with you because he had to keep an eye on you while

he thought being with you would only be for the first two days, then he would go for his training. and yet here you were, sitting beside him in front of the bonfire while everyone else arrived and other danced to their hearts’ content. maybe he could ask you about the telepathy thing? but figuring you were cranky from earlier, he held back.

“can i ask more about your curse? if it’s okay with you to tell me.”

jaehyun nodded, you had the right to. not because you accidentally picked a random puppy then saw him naked few moments later. you could hear him in your head, and that was enough reason to tell you rather than a general information about it. “yeah. i’m okay with it.”

“you said your ancestors had the curse too. was there any specific reason why they had to suffer that your family and you had to be the..” you paused for a while. jaehyun was waiting for your next words, you guessed it was alright to say it. “..collateral damage?”

“right. i didn’t tell you more of it yeah?” he sniffed from the chilly night. “i don’t know how far back in the years it happened. but they said the head of the family casted out his wife because he assumed he cheated on him. he was the only person the wife ever treasured, so when she was accused, she took his pet and killed it. the head found out, he cursed her that her descendants turn into animals. and we’re the descendants of that woman.”

“that’s awful.” you cleared your throat. “i’m sorry you have to suffer the curse.”

“you don’t have to be. i’m just trying to cope with it.” jaehyun chuckled. “how awesome would it be if there was a way to reverse everything.”

“gotta find the blessing then.” you laid on the grass.

jaehyun’s face wrinkled in disgust. “okay you sound like jungwoo.”

“at least appreciate me for trying to lift your spirits up.”

he hummed in agreement.

“or you can just.. let the blessing find you.” you singsonged as you realised how corny you actually sounded.

“fine, and if it’s you?” he had to give a hint of the telepathic communication.

“because i can hear you when you’re in your retriever form? i’m not exactly a blessing but yeah i’d like to know how telapthy works too.” you stared back at the bonfire, flames flickering as the smoke flew in the air. as of tonight, you wanted to be that person who’d be the igniter of that hope he held on. “if i could help out a little, i’ll be happy to help.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

lisa and minnie stared at you, both had their palms under their chins as if their silence asked you to talk. “i can’t eat when the two of you are like this. it’s very disturbing.” you gripped on your fork, hesitant to eat as you took glances between the food and them.

you knew what they were going to ask. not like you didn’t want to share, it was just that you knew them well enough that they wouldn’t stop once they start. the food was getting cold every second passed, due to the wind outdoors, it was more vulnerable. lisa stretched her elbows while holding her poms to be noticed. five days have gone by and even though you were rarely with them in all those days, she had to ensure you’d tell them about the basketball team and your leading man— although you had no idea about that.

“any updates?” she raised her brows.

“nothing is happening with me or anyone in the team, if that’s what you both wanted to know.” you sighed. “i’m just simply taking down minutes.” you said sternly, kind of regret that you answered her and swirled the noodles with your fork.

“are you sure? twelve members should be enough for that.” minnie tied her shoelaces and bent down with a pressed smile when you pout. she softened her gaze when you were telling the truth and that their teasing should stop there. but they knew that the team should know something about you.

“they’re divided into teams. some did the score board while others practiced on their own. of course i have to be the one- why are you pulling my arm?” you asked and eyed them as if they stained your clothes.

lisa twirled on her toes and posed with her arm rested on her waist. “you’re being quiet again.”

“i’m not?” you said monotonously while you munched on your food.

she sighed and grabbed your chin. “you don’t look at me when you’re lying.” she hummed, yet you didn’t respond. “what’s up y/n? something’s on your mind i can tell.”

in fact a lot of things were.

so far in the week, you’ve helped jaehyun theorise solutions to end his curse after practice. not only for him, but his family and extended family too. some have passed not having to enjoy their lives, while others chose to hide themselves from the world. and a small percentage of the family tree actually tried to live through it— that was jaehyun’s family. coach jung was as determined as jaehyun to put a stop into this curse.

not only that thought alone. to you, jaehyun has been rather noticeable. even if you weren’t thinking of him, he’d appear out of nowhere— during your breaks, on your night-walks alone or even heading to the toilet. you’d always bump into him and his presence seemed to be marked in your consciousness now. not that you liked him around, it was just captain was more friendly than others made him out to be. “really, it’s nothing.”

to say that jaehyun didn’t feel same was definitely an understatement. since the start of the freshman year, he knew you were the loud girl with the two hot cheerleaders, but always wondered why you’ve never joined the team. sometimes he would catch you sitting at one corner, dancing along with the routines aside from cheering your friends on as he was heading to practice.

now he took a peek of you eating alone while lisa and minnie showed off their new uniforms. he was about to call you out to help the team, but the girls pulling you almost immediately once you were done had him holding back. “chaeyeon will be arriving soon, and remember the dare was to wear our uniform.” minnie giggled while you begged her to stop, to the point you nearly cried thinking about it. “you agreed to it-”

“i didn’t agree to it! you agreed for me! i had no say!”

jaehyun’s eyes widened at the thought of you in uniform. your yells were getting louder and pitchier. should he be your knight and shining armour? probably not. he’d like to have something to tease you about. for a moment there was silence, he hid behind the corner of a storage building. you were still telling your friends to stop doing what they were doing. but it was two against one, and he knew you were at the losing end.

the door slammed open, your huffs and puffs getting heavier and closer to where he was. jaehyun’s heart beat so fast that when he finally decided to call out your name, you bumped into him and he caught you to prevent you from falling. “i was about to fetch you, manager.”

you felt heat spread your entire cheek because of the attire you were forced to wear. “well you did and i’m here. can we go? my friends are giving me the stares.”

“fiesty, but i think you look alright.” he chuckled when you grumpily walked ahead. jaehyun followed you from behind with his hands in pockets.

what does he mean by that?

lisa and minnie pursed their lips, soon bursting into giddy squeals and continuously fanning each other from what they saw yet the second time. “he was really checking her out.” minnie laughed.

“his ears said it all.” lisa checked her watch on her wrist. “basketball team’s practice match is starting soon. wanna sit in?”

“girl you bet i will.”

even hours later you blew your baby fringes blocking your view. as you flipped the score board and whistles for a time-out echoed the outdoor gym, your friends could tell how uncomfortable you were but they’d do nothing to get more reactions from you. they liked that you entertained them. and what choice did you have? chaeyeon was already taking pictures of you in the uniform you despised wearing.

coach jung briefed the team information on their opponents this season. you wrote down important points, feeling the chill of the early sunset. you couldn’t wait to change into actual soft and comfy clothes, mosquitoes weren’t your friends.

jaehyun listened to his dad repeating the same points- mostly because he got the advice first before others. he heard you hiss several times, you were supposed to jot the notes down. then it got frequent. he tiptoed to see you opposite from him, shooing the bugs away. of course you were still wearing the cheer uniform. he didn’t want to draw attention, so he stealthy walked behind the guys and straight to you.

“trouble?” he asked.

“just a little chilly, that’s all. meeting’s nearly done yeah?” you hugged the file to your chest.

“say so if you’re cold.” he took his jacket off and draped it on your shoulder.

“and who am i to tell to?” your voice challenging him.

he hummed so low that it almost lulled you to sleep. “me. i’m not the captain for nothing.”

you were both busy talking that you and him weren’t aware of time nor anyone else close by. mind you that minnie and lisa were watching the whole thing. you managed to smile even if you were crossed with how you were dressed. like you enjoyed his company.

they couldn’t hear your conversation, nor were your lips were moving. but the body language they saw already proved and confirmed their assumption. they had to tell you. they went straight to you once the meeting was over, and pulled you aside whilst jaehyun was talking about his childhood.

jaehyun raised a brow and chuckled as you were being pulled away. his friends immediately surround him, bombarding him with questions that he wasn’t paying attention to the meeting. “dude, your time’s near.” ten smacked him on the back.

“don’t make it sound like i’m dying, ten.” jaehyun rolled his eyes, but whenever he did, they were always fixated on you. he couldn’t shake off the feeling you were that something to solve the curse.

“be alert than be busted.” ten shrugged, head tilting to where you were. your friends were busy recording you and giggles filled the air. “how are you so calm now jae?”

jaehyun pursed his lips. “with her, there’s no way i’m calm at all.”

“okay now i can’t tell if that answer was from human jaehyun or doggy jaehyun.” jungwoo pointed out.

his friends all looked at each other, jaehyun wasn’t his usual self. it was as if he was dazed but was able to converse with them properly. slowly his naturally peach-like fuzzy cheeks grew more fur, his tail started to reveal. although they were quick enough to hide jaehyun, they didn’t realise the commotion that came afterwards and drew everyone’s attention.

you swifted your head at the boys’ yells and gathering circle, faintly hearing jaehyun’s refusal into whatever they got him into. “stop it! hey!” he hissed.

jungwoo, a little too excited of the drama going on, spotted you looking at them and gestured you to come over too. your friends built up a curiosity and went ahead of you. as for you, you were mentally tired to think of anything.

not until you heard kun’s wavering yet convincing words. “uh.. y’all wanna see magic?” he chuckled nervously as he knew what jaehyun would do to him after all this was over. “quickly because it’ll happen soon!”

you held in a laugh at jaehyun when he was forced to sit down on the grass to hide his tail. “i’ve been trying to master this for months and i thank jaehyun as my participant. who loves animals? give me a name.”

most hands were up and the answers were said at the same time. some didn’t believe him, but others have seen kun’s little magic tricks over the days. so something of a huge scale like this already got them curious than ever.

“ah i hear great ones but i’ll choose dog. now i’ll turn jaehyun into a golden retriever.” he draped a blanket above his friend.

ten and jungwoo bit their lips to contain themselves, holding onto each other as they filmed this once-in-a-lifetime event. the circle enlarged in scale with the poor lad at the center and the golden hour shone over everyone.

“in 3.. 2.. 1..” kun only snapped his fingers then the blanket shrunk in size. your schoolmates were convinced that something was actually happening.

and it was amusing because you were able to hear jaehyun swearing so much in your head.

you let out a giggle. jaehyun was soon surrounded by everyone who wanted to pet him. even your friends went over to the animal. “at least pretend to be happy for them. goldens are known for being clowns.” you told him.

*sighs* “tell kun i’m gonna kill him.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the silence was all jaehyun ever wanted after the shock he had to go through from kun’s improv few days ago. he’d be thankful for a moment because he actually forgot the gideon hour at the time, but he would soon later be clouded with annoyance that he should’ve been informed beforehand of his actions— not only kun, the others included. they’ve got a part in this too.

his friends seated side by side with bruises and bandages on their faces, jaehyun still giving them the silent treatment. he was cranky about that, yet even more so when there was no progress into finding a solution to his curse. “jae. we said we’re sorry.” jungwoo apologised and felt that he was the only one giving effort to talk to jaehyun compared to kun and ten.

“and i said it’s fine. so stop saying that before i actually don’t forgive you.” jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose.

after walking up the slope to the cabin with heaves of breaths, you managed to hear their conversation before opening the door. “i refilled your bottles.” you threw them on a duffle bag, not caring whether either of them rolled away. “i have to apologise too, jaehyun. i haven’t come up with anything to help you.” true enough because you couldn’t think straight or have the energy to use your remaining brain cells for that matter.

“ugh it’s fine. i’m not in a rush or anything. not even assigning you to solve within the duration of the camp.” jaehyun squeezed the bottle as thirst continued to drive him crazy, the heat as well, so he removed his tshirt. you averted your gaze and looked elsewhere. maybe you were still a little bothered seeing him half naked after the incident?

ten sought the opportunity and decided to fan the flame even more. “why look away when you’ve seen him already?”

he managed to dodge your hits and you turned around embarrassed. jaehyun could see you fanning yourself from the heat. “it was an accident!” you cleared your throat.

“gah i’m tired. we’re done with practice. we get a day off tomorrow, so can’t we watch a movie? who has disney plus?” jungwoo wiped himself with a towel.

“i do.” kun brought out his ipad. “what do you wanna watch?”

“i haven’t watched that one.”

“beauty and the beast?”

“o-kay, i’ll be going now.” you yawned as you began to feel the exhaustion take over your body. “see you tomorrow.”

the door closed and suddenly you remembered a funny memory last halloween when taeil dressed himself as belle. he blended in with the other ladies that you didn’t realise it was him. either it was the wig’s work or just taeil in general. you found it funny when a bunch of young teens become children again as disney’s mentioned.

your phone vibrated with your friends asking to help them out with their practice. “i came to the camp for the basketball team, not you two.” you left a voice mail. all you wanted was to rest up today. not until a certain realisation hit you hard.

because what if?

it hasn’t been that long since you left the cabin when the boys jolted from their positions. their peace and concentration on the movie already ruined by you. “oh my goodness i think i got it?” you slammed the door.

jaehyun sat up and set his phone aside. “you’re saying it a question rather than a discovery. not convinced.”

“will you be when i tell you if it’s based on that movie?” you pointed at the tablet.

he trailed his eyes to the screen then back at you, a more confused expression on his face. “you expect me to find someone to love me so my curse will be lifted?”

“pfft nah kidding, you don’t seem that loveable anyway.” you stole a lollipop from ten. “okay bye for reals.”

as the door closed, ten unwrapped another lollipop. “bet you he’s thinking of his potential ‘belle’.” ten nudged the boys.

“shut up. i’m not going to base my life on a fictional movie.”

“but it could be y/n. i mean she can hear you.” jungwoo paused the film.

“it’s not going to be her and it doesn’t prove anything.”

jaehyun thought a lot for two things— you keeping his hopes up, the other was you setting his heart in a frenzy and he always hated that feeling. he groaned and dragged himself to bed to place a towel over his face. sure he’ll hold on to that idea you came up with for now. however it didn’t prove on telepathy.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your heart missed a beat when jaehyun waited for you in front of the cabin you stayed at. he thought you bumping into his torso wasn’t a good way to greet in the morning, whereas you feeling some fur on his tshirt as greeting was any different. jaehyun handed you a file and a little note from coach.

while you read it, you could sense jaehyun was staring, like he had something to say. he retracted his lips when your friends appeared behind you with grins annoyingly appearing on their faces. “make it quick captain. we have things to discuss with y/n.”

“yeah sure. i just dropped by to pass this to you. coach said to make copies. i’ll come back after you’re done with breakfast.” he cleared his throat and announced his leave.

“hm. fishy. he could’ve just left it here outside but he seems like he waited for you.” lisa drank from her cup as you all sat and ate breakfast together.

“right? it’s been days he acted that way!” minnie walked back to the table. “he’s indeed a gentleman, but there are times he’s very hard to approach.”

you unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. “anyway, what is it you guys wanna talk about?”

“lisa will go first. she couldn’t wait.” minnie giggled.

lisa laid out series of pictures of nature she recently took and were indeed beautiful. “oh my goodness they look amazing!” you sat up. “as expected from someone in the photography club. i bet if you submit these to johnny he’ll regret putting you as backup-”

“really?! i took advantage of the retreat and i made sure they were pretty!” lisa interrupted you and placed more pictures down. “these are my favourite! i’m thinking of sending these to johnny instead!”

however your face turned sullen at the next pictures. they were blurry and almost gone, but it was definitely jaehyun at the background, each one showed he was transforming from human to dog. you paused and your heart did the same.

the silence got longer, you knew you had to speak up, but no words came out. “what’s wrong y/n?”

“you can’t submit these to johnny.” you brushed the first batch of pictures aside and bind latest pictures together.

“why not? you supported the rest of them! how could these be not good enough?” lisa’s voice changed in an instant, like you’ve taken away her pride. she sat back with folded arms, her behaviour scared you a little.

minnie slightly wiggled your hand. “hey, are you hearing to yourself y/n?”

“sorry, i know i sound stupid-”

“you are!” lisa huffed where her cheeks blew up. it was cute though.

“but you have to hear me out.” one thing was for sure, your stress levels shot up high if word gets to jaehyun. you had to prepare for the consequences.

“okay, so why can’t i submit them?” lisa sighed.

you held her hand. “it would be alright to, only if these are not in the background.” you said, pointing out a figure at the background of the subject. it all became clear as day to them when they looked closely. “did jaehyun just.. transformed?”

you were surprised with how quick they were able to catch on. as much as you wanted to protect jaehyun’s family curse, things would’ve turn for worst if someone else had noticed it. i’m sorry jaehyun, this is for your own good.

“we believed kun’s ability of illusion and his magic tricks. ten sent us a video of it and it didn’t really occurred to us that the golden was actually jaehyun.” minnie pursed her lips. “if you think about it, he does look like a golden.”

“how is this possible?” lisa asked with a growing smile, but refrained since transforming twice everyday was nothing good anyway.

“i found about his family curse accidentally. he turns into a dog when it’s golden hour, like sunrise and sunset.” you propped on your elbows.

“it’s a curse? poor lad.” minnie gasped.

a rather sad nod caught them off guard. “the coach signed me up to join this retreat. it’s not only for my missed p.e assessments but it was to keep his curse a secret. a-and now that you know, i’ll be damned if word gets to him. so you have to promise me you both don’t say or do anything..“ you sounded as if you begged. that was how much your the friendship you have with jaehyun meant to you.

“and yeah, that’s my answer. the magic trick was just a cover up to hide jaehyun’s dog form.” they listened and were surprised to hear you like this.

your fidgety hands and nervous breathing was too obvious. if jaehyun was just a friend, you wouldn’t act as if he was your- “oh no.” you slumped down on your arms. “why did i..” you mumbled as your feelings for him became clearer to you.

“oh my gosh. you like him! you like jaehyun!” lisa covered her mouth and changed the lingering negative atmosphere.

ba-dump. i..

“then that means your love for golden retrievers doubled!” minnie hugged you.

“no! it’s b-because you’re putting m-me in the spotlight-” you stuttered when they leaned towards you. “i’m gonna go.”

jaehyun flinched even though he was at a distance. your friends were yelling quite excitingly. you were being chased by them and although it was inaudible. he answered his phone as it was ringing for a while. “what, ten?”

“don’t ‘what’ me!” jaehyun tilted his head from his friend’s volume. “jae where are you?”

“i’m at y/n’s cabin and on my way bac-”

“nevermind that. i can see you.”

ten rushed towards him and looked at the cabin. “where’s lisa?” he squinted his eyes.

“just her and minnie chasing y/n out. i don’t know how but they left the door open. what are you doing here anyway?”

he mimicked a photographer’s gesture and pointed at the cabin. “lisa told me her pictures have developed and i’m here to get them.”

jaehyun flicked his forehead. “and you could’ve asked me instead.”

“they’re confidential and i’m shy if anyone sees it.” ten walked to the cabin.

“gross. just get them and head back quickly.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you lost track of the days that have passed and there was an unsettling feeling that stayed in your chest. had it been two or three? you couldn’t remember. the basketball team’s practice matches and drills were normal. but there was a difference in air lingering around jaehyun. he still talked to you, kept the same gentle smile and was caring as usual. except whenever he did those, it seemed like he was distancing himself from you, creating an imaginary wall just to let you know your limits and boundaries.

you’d like to think it was because of the pressure coach has been giving him since the play-offs were close to date. but, it wasn’t all jaehyun who behaved that way. ten also distanced himself, his gaze pierced against your skull and thinking about it only caused you to have migraines. you were more scared of ten.

coach jung have asked you to help the cheerleading team, saying you’ve helped them enough. the amount of appreciation he had for you was too much, you couldn’t ask him about how jaehyun recently. yet this was all too sudden that your gut feeling told you otherwise. you planned to talk to jaehyun after the day ends. because in all honesty, something definitely happened.

and the boys left you out of it.

approaching jaehyun was harder than you thought. now you’ve realised it, he was always the one who took the initiative and you on the receiving end took the benefits of his kindness. it was supposed to be the other way around, so why were you taking advantage of this?

if having feelings for him was the reason for that, then you’re really stupid y/n. you laid on the grass in defeat from your thoughts and closed your eyes. you decided to have some peace and nature was your best friend in time like these. chirping birds and crashing riverbanks-

“jaehyun where are you?!”

ah crap. you twitched hard enough that swarms of goosebumps appeared on the majority of your skin. on your stomach, you hid behind the bushes to see jungwoo and the others struggling to find him. even at the mention of his name you were already feeling shy and flustered.

“is he skipping practice again?”

“ah whatever let’s just leave him.”

“i understand why he’s like that.”

“even i would feel hurt if i were him.”

a heavy and deep audible breath from their sudden entry was difficult to hide your response. you tried to leave as quiet as possible. not wanting to get caught, you had to move stealthily with few glides backwards on your knees, eyes glued to the boys’ actions if they looked elsewhere. when you felt something blocking the soles of your shoes, somehow you knew what it was.

“you’re blocking my way.” jaehyun’s irritated tone made your chest ache— in the most painful impact you never expected from him.

quickly you stood up and made sure you stayed out of sight from the boys. jaehyun scratched his temple at your awkward behaviour. he was already in front of you, why were you hesitating to ask him questions he left unanswered? jaehyun pulled a long face when you still remained silent. “if you’re not gonna speak when you clearly have something to say, do i really have to say it for you?”

what the hell is his problem? what’s with his tone? “yeah as a matter of fact i do. the thing is, i don’t understand why you’re being like this. you ignore me but still talk to me when i don’t help with the team anymore, and for some reason you’re mad at me?” you grimaced while leaning on a tree trunk.

there was cynism in jaehyun’s nods and the swirls of his tongue evident on his cheeks. you hated his attitude and all you wanted was an explanation. “whatever this is, i’ve got no reason for you to doubt me, jaehyun.”

“ah, really? ‘cause you just gave me one.” he fished out something from his pockets and as you watched, the item he was holding was too familiar and they were obviously not his. he flicked the sheets and that was when you confirmed they were the new pictures lisa developed.

why were they with him? at the pit of your stomach, a whirlwind of emotions and stressing pressure began, and you didn’t like the feeling at all. “what-”

he threw the pictures on the floor. “other than my family and friends you’re the only one who knows about my curse! and at some point you go against my back telling them to picture me when i’m left clueless?!”

right now you were really afraid jaehyun’s mood would attract attention.

you closed your eyes as he raised his voice. “look i have no idea how you got those but i promise you i had nothing to do with the picture-” you insisted and could feel your blood pressure rising.

“how- how could you betray me like this?!”

your heart fell and instead of feeling bad about him knowing, you felt your head ache with so much anger building up inside you. because jaehyun didn’t bother to listen or let you explain yourself.

“i found you in the background before lisa actually showed those to johnny! it would spread if she did! where’s the betrayal in that?!”

he stepped closer to you, your entire was itching to run away. “i don’t care! you still told your friends! you could’ve said another excuse like kun’s practicing his magic trick or something! you promised me my secret’s safe with you!”

that’s messed up. i did tell lisa and minnie but not because it was to mock him!

“kun was no where to be seen in the picture! what else can i do? lie to them? i know my friends more than you do and they won’t tell anyone!” you raised your voice as well.

jaehyun scoffed, rolling his eyes. “i don’t trust them!”

“well, i do! and you should trust me!” your tone wavering at all emotions hitting you at once. especially coming from him— the guy you developed feelings for.

“the moment you told them you broke my trust already! what else did you tell them, hm? my dad and brother having the curse too?” he brushed his hair in anger when your silence meant yes. “ugh is this really happening?! you told them everything!”

“okay that’s enough-” your vision blurring from the tears wanting to fall.

“i’m asking what else did you tell them?! dammit y/n what could be so important to you than my secret?!”

“well- i-”

“i what?!”

other than the secret, you knew what went after the reveal. then you realised the weight of your words, you couldn’t tell him that you actually like him. you wanted to be selfish this once. “i can’t.. tell you.”

jaehyun started to harbour more resentment towards your reasoning. he found it ridiculous of you to even continue with this conversation. ten already warned him that the secret wasn’t safe with you in the first place. the glimpse of hope faded when he thought you’d be the key, even if you were, trust was still important to him. it was the very thing his mother lacked and you doing so reminded him of it.

his expression darkened and you were afraid of him— excluding of how cruel he was with you on the exercise reps. you were afraid you just broken a promise and put your friendship on a rocky end.

“so that’s it? i’m begging you with my life on the line and you just gave me the most bullcrap answer!”

“you’re being unreasonable!” you yelled.

“shut up! you found about my curse so you should be the one compromising!”

“y/n!” lisa came running with a panicked face.

tsk, wrong timing. “not now.” you mouthed.

“have you seen my pictures?! i told ten to get them the other day but he got the wrong envelope! it’s the one with jae-” she bent down to catch her breath and was taken aback with jaehyun’s presence. “..hyun.”

the boys followed lisa and once they found their friend, you could tell ten’s stares that felt like daggers. he pulled jaehyun away but eyes still locked on you. “what happened?” lisa asked as you mirrored ten’s expression, but your friends could see the hurt in your eyes.

“he has the pictures. i think ten saw them and gave them to him. jaehyun’s mad, he thinks i betrayed him for telling you-”

“no that’s not it!” lisa held your hand and glared at the boys, especially ten, since he was her childhood friend. “you had every right to tell us because the pictures are my works-”

“shouldn’t have said anything further y/n! you should’ve gotten the pictures and told us instead of them! you promised, remember?” ten finally spoke up.

you rolled your eyes. “and what?! you’re like saying i should risk my friendship for his stupid secret!”

his friends turned heads to jaehyun to see his tight-knit brows and softening demeanour. jaehyun frowned and hurt was evident in his face. he was hurt by you, someone he developed feelings for in a short amount of time. “i believed it when you said you’ll help me. or were.. were all those just words to you?”

ah.. that came out wrong.

you bit your lips to say something, but they left so soon after, making your chest squeeze as if your lungs let out the last bits of oxygen from your body.

shortly over an hour, jungwoo watched his friend pace back and forth, nibbling on his nails when the tension grew in their cabin. “aren’t you too hard on her? you didn’t let y/n explain further-”

“i can’t believe her!” jaehyun crumpled the picture after looking at it. “how could she do this to me?!”

“honestly i just don’t think she’s that type of person to go behind someone’s back for her own entertainment.” kun spoke up and tilted his head, avoiding the cup that smashed on his side of his cheek. “perhaps you’re mistaken.”

jaehyun wasn’t in the right headspace whenever his past trauma was reminded or brought up, so no matter how much reason was given, he wouldn’t listen. “do i have to repeat it? she already had her fun when she told her friends to picture me!”

“your explanations are always so conclusive.” kun sighed.

“and your heart’s too soft as usual, kun! so back off!” jaehyun grabbed the older one’s shoulder and shoved him against the wall.

he released him soon after realising that he didn’t once listen to you, but he was too stubborn to take any more excuses. there was one thing he thought you were wrong— weren’t you risking your friendship with him by exposing his secret he kept so dearly? maybe distancing himself more than he did would clear his mind off from the mess.

—

when all sports teams lined up with their designated coach buses the days after, jaehyun slightly put his chin up to search for you in the crowd— in a subtle manner, since he still stood in his decision into having his space from you yet didn’t want it to be obvious to others that he cared for you still.

you knew he was staring from afar. it was a stupid misunderstanding, both of you were in the wrong, but he made you feel as if you carried the blame for this.

sure that was a given, that he would react worse than expected. you were going to take the pictures from lisa anyway, and the guys wouldn’t know that your friends knew. you didn’t expect you’d burst out of anger or that ten took them before you did and made the assumption. it still drove you mad, ten probably convinced jaehyun of your doing since he didn’t trust you at first.

that aside, you decided to ride the coach bus with the cheerleading team. “when we reach school, you can forget about the basketball team and camp. how dare they hurt you?” minnie hugged you as you stared out the window.

“if i had to weigh it, it’s not me who’s hurting. jaehyun is.” you sighed and pat her back. “how do i act if i bump to any of them? i’ll probably do something stupid again. at all cost, i’mma just- *sigh*”

“she’s talking about jaehyun right?”

“yeah she’s still not straightforward about him.”

“we know she likes him. she doesn’t have to hide it.”

“i can hear you both.” you lowered your hat to avoid their gaze.

jaehyun sat beside his father at the front for a change, playing with the blinds to cover sunlight. coach jung knew his silence more than anyone, even if jaehyun didn’t plan on telling him. “i’ve done what you told me to do. you didn’t want to see y/n after the fight. so? did it to any change?”

“no. i kept my distance and i’ll see if she’ll admit her mistake.” jaehyun adjusted the fan above him.

“jae, if only you saw her reaction when i told her to not come see the team. i know you’re smarter than this. you know it’s not all her fault.”

he clenched his palms hard. crescent moons soon showed themselves on the flesh. “where exactly in this is my fault, dad? have i not been patient to wait for curse to be broken? who said that y/n might have a contribution in this? it’s you, dad. i’m not holding any grudge against y/n. i’m just disappointed at her because she’s nothing i ever imagined her to be. goodness’ sake i even like her.” he mumbled at the last sentence, missing the point that his dad could hear it.

coach jung let out a short laugh at the remark. “not sure if you noticed, you haven’t seen y/n working hard at researching about our curse while you boys practiced. she’s always brainstorming at the possibilities, science or not, she’s always looking for ways. don’t let anger cloud you.” his father paused and had a pressed smile. “..don’t end up having small fights like me and your mother. you wouldn’t want it to be bigger than it already is.”

“yeah.. i know.”

you woke up with a thud and saw a rather prominent bump on your right temple through the reflection of the window. arriving at the campus grounds was quicker than you thought, despite being almost a half day journey. you overheard that the basketball team would stay there a little longer and you had to leave immediately because once everyone has gone home, you’d see him. you didn’t want to risk yourself from being spotted after you both fought.

it was a small matter now that you think about that day. stubbornness outweighed understanding in the two of you, and that resulted in immaturity. and if neither of you were willing to admit, might as well make the first move.

but you were stubborn as he was.

once the coach bus was nearing the parking area, the first and only thing you decide to do was get out of the vehicle and head straight home. you wouldn’t let your friends speak and looked at their bus. there sat jaehyun fiddling with the curtain. you then rushed out, covering your face from the basketball team as they too were getting off. “is that what she meant ‘at all costs’?” minnie facepalmed as she saw you walking away quickly.

“oh look, there’s y/n.” coach jung tapped the window to make jaehyun notice you. the way you behaved was weird for him, because it was too obvious you were avoiding getting seen.

“i don’t care.”

“it means you do.” his father messed his son’s hair. “okay, off you go. i’ll cancel the extra practice today and let all of you rest up during the weekend.”

jaehyun’s lips agape at his father’s last minute decision. he wore his cap and slung his bag. “if you’re doing this and expect i’d make up with her, you’ll regret ever cancelling practice.”

“ah c’mon. your old man is helping you out with a girl. can’t you tell what i’m doing, jae?” he laughed at his son’s reaction. he could see himself in jaehyun and knew things would get better.

“it won’t work dad.”

he rolled his eyes and went to where the bikes were parked. he kicked the stand at the rear wheel when his friends caught up to him with their own bikes. goodness why can’t they just leave me alone? “what do you want?” he stood a little to pedal ahead.

kun rode along beside him, eyes alternating at and on the road. “what now? you’re just going to pretend you didn’t see y/n? like nothing happened?”

“how can i ignore that when her figure’s so obvious and literally running away from here? i’m not going to do anything about-”

jungwoo then sighed heavily, causing jaehyun to knit brows. “she looked over our bus you dimwit! that means she thought of talking to you but held back because of-”

“i’ll talk to y/n in my own terms and in my own time! stop forcing me to do things when you think it would work well for me!” jaehyun pressed on the brakes with his palms.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

kun and jungwoo’s eyes followed your swirling fork and the silent air that had been going for half an hour. they thought knocking onto the doors of jaehyun’s closed heart was hard, never expected yours was harder. you wouldn’t say anything after they invited you, claiming they missed you around them.

because it had been two full semesters since then. from what the boys told you, jaehyun lost focus and couldn’t lead the team to the championships. he always fought with his father and would burst in anger, throwing unnecessary fits towards them even though they worked hard to reach the quarterfinals.

this behaviour would happen so often that it began to strain his relationships with everyone on the team. the transformation did a lot worse to his body, he’d get sick and weak, and for over months, he would not transform back immediately within the golden hour ended. it lasted longer. sometimes even the morning after.

it worried them that if jaehyun given up all hope and continued to act that way, the urge to find the solution would never take place. and that he would remain an animal forever. even so, you knew their intentions to invite you today despite feeling sad for jaehyun. and you prepared your answer before they could speak.

“y/n-”

“as much as i love to stay, i’m here to tell you you’ve wasted your efforts. if jaehyun won’t talk to me.. then i’ll just keep giving him space until he apologises first.” you were already losing appetite talking about it.

“and you think waiting game would pull off too, hm?” kun’s dimple deepened, a flat smile seen on the exterior.

you put down your fork. “i didn’t think we’ll last this long not talking-”

ten smirked in disbelief, you forgot he was there too. his presence was almost non-existent as he kept quiet the whole time. “keep it like that. you’re held accountable for making jaehyun the way he is now.”

“ten!” kun scowled at the guy. “i told you not to talk.”

you rolled your eyes that his words hurt more than the eye roll. “why is he here anyway? you said it’ll only be the two of you. unbelievable.”

“to see if you came up with a solution to lift jaehyun’s curse. looking at you now, i guess you didn’t.” he said and you tried your best to refrain yourself from hitting him. “were you mocking him when you suggested it might be the same answer as that disney film?”

“i said as a joke but it might be a possibility. we live in a world where people go through inexplainable experiences that science couldn’t dive in deep.” you sighed.

jungwoo tapped the table to stop the bickering you and ten were starting. “like my hunch says, maybe it’s another soulmate thing i’ve mentioned to you guys at the camp.”

“it’s not a soulmate thing, jungwoo.” kun and ten said simultaneously.

you brought out an a5 sized sealed envelope and the action alone made the boys stunned. “don’t open this. just give it to him. anyway, the sun’s setting. i really have to go.” you passed the item to kun.

it’s suffocating. i can’t stay here long. they saw how hesitating your limbs were, your eyes averting them and clearing your throat several times.

“ten, does this look like she didn’t do anything? this proves she’s trying.” kun took the envelope and hit it on ten’s head.

as you put on your coat whilst standing next to the table, ten sat back with arms crossed. “acting smart, aren’t you? you really think you’re the belle for jaehyun huh? i wouldn’t believe that for a second.”

“i didn’t say anything about me being the solution. i’m still keeping my promise to help him. and trust me, i don’t think i’m belle either.” you grabbed your bag and left, your food gone cold and jungwoo sighed at the air turning worse thanks to ten.

the cash money was placed on the table when kun called the waiter. “please keep the change.” he looked at your slouching figure by the bus stop across the restaurant. it screamed sadness and hurt all over.

the reason for suddenly leaving wasn’t because you were offended with what ten said. of course there was truth in his words. at some point you thought you were someone important to jaehyun, since you could hear him.

you thought you both were soulmates.

you left because you spotted a familiar figure standing by the door. haven’t been seeing him lately only made you feel angry at yourself. you were a coward, you even passed the envelope to the boys instead of giving it to jaehyun yourself. your friends already encouraged you about it, that that was the only thing to narrow the gap between you and jaehyun. it was to show that you were still supporting him.

why are you like this y/n? if you like him, you’d do anything to get his attention and forgiveness. why are you doing things to push him away, rather.. why are you forcing yourself to not care when you still do?

you continued to walk with your head low for another hour, troubled in your thoughts as they’ve been bothering you for many months. snap out of it y/n-

*tug*

*scratch*

the hems of your baggy jeans were pulled and torn with minimal, adorable force. it took you a while to process the animal before you. a blue bunny, what’s a bunny doing here- oh.

“sungchan?”

—

he rose from the bushes in front of their house. you stood there awkwardly while he figures to cover his body after the blue hour. “i’m sorry for asking you to bring me home. i get tired from hopping sometimes.” he grabbed a towel that he was hanging by the gate.

“no worries. i-i’ve seen- nevermind.” your voice softened at the latter.

sungchan pursed his lips to refrain himself from smiling since he was there and witnessed when it happened. “come in, i’ll make you some tea. it’s my way of thanks.”

although he was kinder than his brother, probably more mature, he was still young that you could see through his intentions. you knew he wanted some patching up done between you and jaehyun. you hesitated for a while, but since you were there already, might as well try to talk to him—

even if there was a slim chance of making things work.

you sat on the sofa, slightly still and awkward being in the residence. little sips, light breathing and the soft wind from the fan were only heard within the living area. “did my brother cause you a lot of trouble during the camp?” sungchan asked and knowing that you were silent, he knew jaehyun probably did. “how about now?”

“actually, i think i’m the one causing more trouble for him because i feel like i’m not doing anything to help when i said i would.” you sighed as he continued to listen.

“really? i heard from the others you’re helping so much that it changed my brother.. at the least he’s not cranky.” his nose twitched so adorably that you thought it was derived from being a bunny almost his whole life. “also, there’s that envelope-” he paused while realising how your expression caught him off guard.

maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it, but he wanted you to know he wasn’t spying on you. he made that clear with his silence.

if he saw that back at the restaurant, that only meant he was there for quite some time. you let out a small smile that he was probably there not for you, but to wait for his brother’s friends. instead of bumping into them, he bumped into you.

“oh, that. it.. has a bunch of handwritten letters i’ve compiled when i struggled talking to jaehyun. i just felt that maybe it’s more sincere if i had to apologise.. y’know, eventually.”

he pursed his lips and nodded. “then why not put those words into actual words? like verbal words.” sungchan’s fingers pointed upwards, hinting that jaehyun was up in his room. “for all i know it’s the most sincere thing to do.”

crap, he’s not expressive but he’s so so mature for his age. it made you feel inferior for a moment.

“but before you do that, i have to tell you something that my dad and brother missed out about our curse. why jaehyun-hyung is more pressured than i am.”

(few minutes later)

you slid against the wall while sungchan went out to do grocery shopping. at the other side of the door, in between the thin gap, you could hear soft breathing; jaehyun was on his bed, sleeping in his dog form and it hurt you since time already passed both golden and blue hour, he should’ve transformed like his brother did. instead he laid there as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

meanwhile, jaehyun knew you entered his room. he pretended to be sleeping and expected he wouldn’t know how to act when he gets to face you. he decided to stay as he was.

until you pat then caressed his head.

he didn’t want to settle or give in for the fact you loved golden retrievers. he blamed on the shallow euphroria dogs easily feel. and because he was in his dog form, the anger he held for you disappeared. but at the same time, was your touch out of care or pity? he couldn’t figure it out. then he could hear the beats of your heart, and that made him sit up. your heart was fast. it was worrying. it was—

“why didn’t you tell me the whole story?” your voice wavered in heaving breaths as he finally looked you in the eye. his ears twitched and he faced the door, knowing that sungchan told everything.

jaehyun shook his body and whiskers moved before he telepathically answered you. “believe me i tried. i hate myself for being sensitive and i couldn’t bring to tell you because i got angry. but you have to know that i value trust more than anything.”

“you know what’s ironic?” you sighed, pressing your forehead as pain began to form. “you didn’t trust me first and and we fought because you didn’t do that. and you didn’t trust me enough that you only told me what, like 50 percent of it?”

of course he knew what you referred to.

he was going to tell you the day he visited your cottage at camp. but he didn’t get to, because ten told him news ahead of him that it ruined the purpose to talk to you. it wasn’t that he blamed him, it was due to the fact he wasn’t prepared for something like that. even for something like this.

because there was that prophecy weighing on his shoulders.

“sungchan said that it has to directly come from you, so you better tell me now before our friendship falls out.” you warned and leaned back against the headboard.

currently your friendship was on the line, wobbling on tight ropes. pushing you further away would do no good.

jaehyun sat and his paws were dignified into a comfortable position. his head laid on a cushion pillow, facing towards you. “fine. most of my family turns into wild animals, and they couldn’t control themselves in that other form. their wildlife instincts overpowers their thoughts.” he yawned.

“and it’s different for me and sungchan. when we were born, when we had our first full transformation, they were shocked to know we turn into domestic animals. we’re able to remember, think and live as if we’re still humans. at the end, it’s either of us to stop the curse.”

“so why did your brother mention that you’re the most pressured? why did it only have to be you?” this time you spoke, there was more depth into your feelings if you spoke. as sungchan said, verbally was more sincere. “you could share the burden with him.”

he sighed at the tone of your voice. “isn’t it obvious? the role is immediately passed onto me not because i’m the first born.. it’s because you suddenly could talk to me.. telepathically.”

“yeah and we couldn’t even figure that one out yet.” you scoffed remembering the times you’ve placed your efforts on that matter and now it had gone all to waste. all because you both had that fight.

he read through your eyes and sensed the intention from your words. plus he hated how you delivered it with that certain tone. “i didn’t bring this up just to blame you for my own satisfaction!” he groaned. “i brought it up so that i can apologise! i was wrong, okay?! i should’ve listened to you instead of carelessly listening to ten-”

you refrained yourself from showing any further hurt. recalling it would only make you cry. “well you were manipulated with ten’s assumptions. you believed him more than me. he had proof while i didn’t. i was in the losing end! not like i expected you to change your mind. so can we just.. get this overwith and tell me what the prophecy is?”

he was speechless for a while. you being straight-forward yet in a pained voice was too much for him. he was already softening his feelings for you and you had to tense it all up again. “‘only one could save those who lay under the curse, for they must be in the correct peace of mind and body to break it before it turns for worse.’”

“and the ‘worse’ means you won’t transform back anymore?” you asked, the prophecy already piercing your heart as you waited for more explanation.

“that and..” he trailed off. “..we lose our humanity too. we won’t remember anything. memories erased like a snap of the finger. and we’ll just be.. another animal.”

you pushed yourself to sit up as your heart clenched tight. “jaehyun! why say it now and not before?”

“because! what is there for you to do-”

you squished the dog’s into a wrinkly mess, to the point jaehyun couldn’t see anything. his paws tried to put your arms down, but even clawing was hard for him to do. then he felt you lean forward to hug him. “y/n? what’re you doing?” you didn’t answer.

crap, this is warm. it feels.. nice. embarrassed, he put his thoughts at the back of his mind. “are you doing this out of pity? do i look that helpless-”

what crossed his mind was that you thought he needed a hug and was the only thing you could do. but you proved him wrong, so, so wrong. and why didn’t he realise it sooner in his life?

“you have to treat yourself like someone you love!”

what?

“you have to fill yourself with it! have you been thinking half-heartedly or do things half-assed because you’re different from people? do you not realise there are people who loves you? you trust them so less that you’re not confident into breaking the curse! because you didn’t really try!”

he froze in his stance, like a bullet pierced through his chest with how true your point was. he didn’t know what love was when his mother left the family. he didn’t dare to open up with his dad and brother, not his friends as for so long he didn’t do that one important thing— trust.

jaehyun thought he did that. he had enough encouragement but only to the level of content. he didn’t expect more as what else was there for people cursed like his family? “why are you so worried or do this much for me?”

“because no one actually helped you!” your arms tightened around him. “your friends were occupied into thinking that protecting you and your curse from others was the safest thing to do. it’s not! it just gets you self-conscious, conceited and too comfortable to not to do anything at all!” everything you said knocked down the pillars of his pride. he wasn’t at all living in humility if his friends did ever help.

“y/n we’re nothing more than friends. how could you be pushing yourself onto my problems-”

“i’m one of the people, jaehyun. don’t you get it now? i l-”

as if the phone line got cut off, he couldn’t hear the rest. you appeared like a television who lost its voice, however, somehow he knew what came after that. he didn’t want to admit it, after spending time with you at camp, he realised his heart felt the same.

you were quick to catch on. the golden retriever just stared at you, you couldn’t hear him as well. not even telepathically. jaehyun laid back down, ignored you and went to sleep. you nudged him, he wouldn’t move. you felt a swarm of blame towards him. if only he told you earlier, he wouldn’t be in this state where he was just another dog. mostly you blamed yourself for not taking the initiative first to fix things. you went along with your anger and his waiting game.

where did it get you? to this.

the one second revelation he heard from you and then fell into slumber, he was standing in front of himself, before a mirror. a series of himself switching from human to animal throughout the years. the glass cracked over his face. as if he entered a new world, he had to prepare mentally for what was to come.

instead he awoke like he only passed out from exhaustion. to only see you hugging your legs, head down with soft sobs and hiccups, he reached out for you yet hesitated. he checked the time, the golden hour was to arrive.

“y/n.” he called out in a low voice.

“no.” you mumbled. “i shouldn’t be hearing him.”

“but you really are, though.”

you shot your head up, tears rolling down your cheeks when you felt his touch— his large palms holding yours. he transformed, you had many questions as you thought it was too late.

confused and tired, you stared at him blankly. processing the guy before you took a whole minute to realise jaehyun transformed back. “is.. is this a joke?” you coughed and rubbed your tears. “i saw you faint- i saw how you lost the light in your eyes- i saw-”

he’s blushing. his ears are red.

jaehyun pulled you into an embrace, he caressed your head as if he held a newborn. “the curse broke around the time i realised i lacked self-care. it was the same time you said it too.”

looking back, he didn’t treat himself right since the beginning. he realised he shouldn’t have looked for a solution or someone to love him. he was the someone he was looking for, and should’ve reflected on himself than to rely too much on others.

“you’re still hugging me.” you said, stopping his trail of thoughts. you pat his back quickly and he was holding you tight. “you’re squeezing the oxygen out of me.”

“can’t i hold you longer? you’ve been so helpful even when i pushed you away. now i don’t really want to let go.” jaehyun whispered. he never felt something like this before— this urge to love someone. “what if the curse comes back when you go away?”

you felt your head bursting with temperatures your body was experiencing now. “you really have to let go!” clearing your throat, you tried to shove him away.

“no. don’t be stubborn.”

“don’t be clingy, clingy!”

“you want me to hug you though.”

“i do but- wait no that’s not- i-”

he squeezed your face between his hands. “you love me, don’t you. and you said i’m not loveable.” he teased and goodness his dimples shot you at the heart. you kicked him in the chest yet he leaned forwards, closer than usual. “i can feel your veins beating crazily.”

ah for crying out loud! “jung jaehyun.” you called him with a stern and plain voice. “get off me.”

“tsk i said i wouldn’t-”

“jaehyun you’re naked.”

hm? he pulled himself away from you, looked down and covered his lower body. ah heavens- “i’m sorr-”

a thud was heard by the door. you both turned heads to sleepy sungchan dropping a parcel delivered to jaehyun while holding a toothbrush with his mouth and prominent bed hair. “uh bro, this is-”

“dad! i think hyung’s in his mating season!”

“i’m so not!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

because the curse was lifted and jaehyun made it happen, all those who fell under it soon experienced freedom and joy after years of agony and pain and fear. feelings opposite to them showered upon them that morning like spring rain.

you sat in between jaehyun and ten, who haven’t been talking to each since they fought over little things, mainly about you. ten still didn’t believe that you were jaehyun’s girlfriend, because he recalled you guys were not going to mend things.

“so that’s it? it’s so hard to believe. she just hugged you and the curse’s gone? even more so you’re both dating?”

“ten, c’mon dude.” kun brought out his fist to bump yours. “she’ll be hanging with us from now on. you have to stop being a stuck-up.”

ten shrugged in defeat and finally nodded in acceptance. “fine. i’ll let it go. i mean the curse’s broken won’t bother jae anymore.” he turned to you. “i’m sorry y/n. jae and i have been best friends since kindergarten. so it’s kinda a brotherly instinct to protect him. it just comes out.”

“you do seem like the leader of the pack.” you fiddled with jaehyun’s fingers while he draped his arm around you.

“i thought i was the leader?” kun sounded offended, but not entirely.

jaehyun remained quiet. he told everyone what had happened. however, there was still one question left unanswered. what was the telepathy about?

what did it have to do with you and him? he thought about that real hard. were you actually a missing piece in the prophecy or did he misunderstand it? there were a lot of possibilities, a lot of ideas coming up that maybe he figured it wrong. maybe you did contribute to the breaking of the curse-

“ah!” jungwoo exclaimed as flicked the paper back and forth. he proudly showed what he found, putting the pieces together. the paper was moving quickly that the pairs of eyes couldn’t focus or see anything. “i’ve been telling you guys since camp but you wouldn’t listen to me!”

you squinted your hardest to see the words. all you got from the sheet of paper scribbles and connecting lines. the boys started to fight for the so they could read the younger one forcibly shoved in front of their faces.

jungwoo wanted his friends to feel their pride stepped on them, and held on the paper. “read the prophecy again. i’m excited-”

“you being excited about these things is nothing new-” ten yelled, and kun covered his mouth at the loud volume.

“‘only one could save those who lay under the curse, for they must be in the correct peace of mind and body to break it before it turns for worse.’ guys, it’s already hinted in it!” he pointed at the parts he was scribbling on earlier.

he expounded the prophecy was a little misleading. it wasn’t being literal about the right mind and body. they were the results of the having the correct heart, as the two would only be affected greatly if not for the heart.

jungwoo scooted next to you. “y/n, you weren’t only the key to solving it. you were the only person who gave him that push and made him realise he should love himself for who he was. you gave him that peace of mind because you are the heart. as we all know, the mind and body can’t function without the heart.”

“that sounds sweet?” kun blushed even though he wasn’t supposed to.

“yeah sure but the telepathy happening at the same time with my curse was just a coincidence though?” jaehyun asked.

“onto my next point!” jungwoo drew on the paper again. “i realised you told us before that only family members of the same curse can talk to each other telepathically.”

jaehyun’s brows only furrowed narrower. “which doesn’t make sense because she’s not part of my family.”

jungwoo grinned widely, it almost made you nervous but if it was coming from jungwoo, it always had to be something good. “not even us lads can even talk to you with our minds though we’re close like brothers. what if it’s a sign that she will be part of your family? even if the curse’s broken, it still proves my point that you were soulmates all along.”

somehow you knew it was headed to this. what jungwoo’s saying was similar to your hunch. you weren’t confident as he was because at the time, the curse wasn’t lifted. now that it was, you never knew you were actually right.

jaehyun shrunk in his seat after hearing jungwoo’s theory. he looked at you; who was now giggling with the others. he never thought you were his soulmate, it never crossed his mind. you appeared in his life as a shadow at first, before you resurfaced and made it a roller coaster ride. it was an eye opener for him too, you loved him for who he was, his flaws— that being the curse. although there were frequent bickers, that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy or hate them. he was afraid you’d leave after knowing his transformation.

you didn’t. you stayed. not because you were forced to just to keep his secret, you stayed since you said you’d help. and that lifted weight off of his shoulders. colours came into view more spirited, clouded thoughts in his head faded and everything he heard that were once muffled became clear. he had to compare it like he was reborn.

in the end, you were still beside him, adjacent to him.

[fa-headhoncho]

Untitled TFATWS Fic: Part 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt/Background: After turning yourself in to the government following the events of CA:TWS, they lock you up for the crimes you committed during your time at Hydra. Spending years there until Captain America got you on parole during the blip to help fight Thanos. Now, after doing community service acts and helping the broken society, when they give the new Captain America the shield, you’re thrown back into a life you didn’t want.

Word Count: 1871 (ahaha, yea)

Reader: Female

Warning: parole officers might be triggering??? idk

Author’s Note: I’ve decided to end my 141 part Wattpad Sebastian Stan imagine book and post on Tumblr instead :’), a happy day. Also, I’M SORRY THAT I LIKE SLOW BURN SERIES OK? Schedule for this series is every Thursday. ALSO IF YOU HAVE TITLE IDEAS FOR THIS SERIES, LMK! PLEASE

Masterlist

Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

=====

The sound of your heels echoed throughout the dimly lit room as you make your way through the exhibit. The walls take you back in time, reading how Captain America came to be and all his past accomplishments. They even updated from the last time you were here, documenting the events on the Blip.

You didn’t even know where you were going, absently letting your emotions and feet lead to where it felt you needed to be.

“For a former spy, you’re not really good at sneaking up on someone.” Rhodes’ voice greets you once you open up the curtain to a different area. A small smile sneaks its way across your face seeing the two men in front of you.

“Bit out of practice.” You spit back, walking towards them. “It’s nice to see you again, Rhodie.” You open your arms out to him and he gladly takes the hug. “Hopefully life’s been treatin’ you well.”

“For the most part,” He chuckles out while pulling away from the embrace. You move on to the other man, him happily wrapping his arms around your waist as you wrap yours around his shoulders.

Sam lets out a breath into the crook of your neck before pulling back. “You doing okay?” You ask, looking at his face for any sign of emotion. He nods but there was something in his eye that told otherwise.

You open your mouth to push him for the real answer but Rhodes cuts you off, “Well, I have to get going. It was good seeing you, (Y/L/N), hopefully, we work together soon. Remember what I said, Sam.” With that, he leaves the room to leave you and Sam alone.

The room fills with silence as the two of you turn to the iconic suit and shield in front of you. You try to watch Sam from the corner of your eye but he just stands with his back straight and his eyes forward.

“You know, I’m sure Steve would understand.” You decide to say, clasping your hands in front of you. “I didn’t become as close as you did, but from my time with him during the Blip, he tried his best to help everyone. He had a lot of responsibilities and issues of his own along with having a whole country looking up to him... 

“It was a lot… he opened to me about it one night before… you know.” You admit which makes him finally look at you. “He told me what he was going to do and all I could do is support him… I asked him what he was going to do with the mantle and he said give it to you.” Turning your head, you make eye contact with him. “I asked him if he was sure.”

He lets out a snort at that, shaking his head at you. “Really gotta do me like that?” He wipes his hand across his face then stuffs his hand in his pockets as he turns to face you. “I thought we were having a nice bonding moment and then you had to drop me like that?”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips at his whining. “I’m being serious, Sam, stop.” You hit him on the shoulder. “He said there was no doubt in his mind that you do what needed to be done with the shield. He trusted you and your judgment, Falcon.” You emphasize his hero name which he just rolls his eyes at you.

“Yea, I’m sure he did.” He smiles and then changes the subject, “How’s parole treatin’ ya, still got the collar on?” He gestures to your ankle causing you to lift your dress pant leg, flashing the electric bracelet around your ankle. He lets out a hearty chuckle at it. “Still can’t believe that they have you on a leash.”

“Price you gotta pay for freedom.” You shrug and drop the cloth. There’s a beat of silence between the two of you, both of you taking a glance back at the exhibit and the shield.

“Have you talked with Bucky recently?”

“No, I was going to ask you.” Your heart sinks at the realization. “We’ve been texting a bit but I haven’t seen him since I spent the weekend with him a couple of weeks ago.” You shyly admit and look down at your feet.

“Weekend, huh?”

“Shut it, Sam.” You knock your foot against his. “We didn’t do anything, he doesn’t like me like that. Plus, he wouldn’t even let me spend the night. I had to go to a hotel, he sleeps on the floor, Sam! I’m worried about him.” It took weeks for you to convince him to let you come over and you finally knew why when you step into his apartment. It made your heart sink, it looked like if a Hydra cell got a remodel. “He has two chairs and a tv.”

“Living modestly I see.” He snorts out, covering up whatever he was actually thinking. It’s now your turn to roll your eyes at him, frustrated that he isn’t willing to talk about this. “Hey, he’s still figuring stuff out, okay? He just got all his memories back and he’s still working on living with his past. You should know better than I do to give him time.” His tone is soft as he lightly scolds you. You hang your head at his words, knowing he’s right.

It took some time for you to come to terms with your past when you turned yourself in after Hydra and SHIELD fell. You took accountability for your actions during your years at Hydra and spent a few years in jail before Steve took action to help you get on parole. That didn’t mean you weren’t fully recovered.

“When are you joining me on the field, anyway?” Sam changes the topic noticing how you went silent and your eyes looked past him. “I could use you on some of my recon missions.” 

A large smile forms on your face at the mention of your parole. “A couple more check-ins and I’m good, I think.” You excitedly inform, “They actually want to talk to me about something, and then it’s the last three months. Saving the world made my good behavior skyrocket.”

“I’m sure it did.” He smiles, “Well, let me know what happens. I’m heading down to Louisiana soon and my sisters want to meet you. She heard about your work with the soup kitchens in New York and she wanted some insight.”

“Really? Give her my number, you know I’d be happy to talk with her. I’ve been thinking about trying to get my officer to convince the big guys to expand my tracking radar so I reach out more.” You start to ramble about the ideas you’ve been having for more community service actions. During the blip, Steve got you into volunteer work and it sparked something inside of you. He said it might give you a new purpose and he couldn’t have been more right.

The two of you spend the rest of the day together, catching up on everything that’s been going on. You didn’t realize how much you missed his snarky comments and banter until he smothered you in it, “making up for lost time”, he said. He continues the bullying by texting back and forth for the next few days.

It was nice to have a friend after everything that happened over the last few years. Steve and Nat were gone so the friendships you built up during the blip were just a memory now. Yea, Bucky and you were friends but it was a bit more complicated than that.

It’s a few weeks after that and they’ve already named some prick the new Captain America. You were frustrated at Sam but you realized that he couldn’t have known that this was going to happen. Especially since when you reached out to him and he was more furious than you were. Bucky was a whole other story. When the press conference aired, he immediately called you and went off about Sam. You couldn’t offer answers so you just told him to talk to him about it. This didn’t involve you.

Now, you were sat at some random government office in DC. You were beyond nervous, leg bouncing and fingers tapping. Kevin, your sweet parole officer, had called you in for an emergency meeting. He didn’t mention anything about the content of it but he assured you not to worry. It didn’t help, though, your mind was scrambling trying to think of anything you could’ve done to break your parole or anywhere you could’ve gone that went outside your tracking radar.

“(Y/L/N)?” The familiar voice echoes through the lobby makes your head snap up. Kevin, your knight in a cashmere sweater, stands there with his hands in his pants pockets. He nods his head, gesturing for you to follow him.

He leads you down a long hallway, stopping at the end of it and holding the door open for you. You send him a grateful smile before entering the office. It was very different from his usual office. The tall windows lined the wall from floor to ceiling, making the already large room feel even more spacious. It was a bit unsettling compared to his close-knit office space located in an old house on the outskirts of DC.

Kevin moves you two to the large conference table on the other side of the room, having you sit before he does. He takes the chair at the head of the table, sighing as he opens the folder and takes a few papers out.

“Sign these.” He slides them over to you but you furrow your eyebrows in response.

“What’s going on?”

“You’re being released.” He announces, leaning back in his chair with a tight-lipped smile on his face. Your jaw drops and your heart picks up but you can’t help but question it. You quickly compose yourself and look down at the papers.

“Isn’t it a bit too early?” You ask while briefly scanning the papers. “I still have two months left, not that I’m not grateful but where is this coming from?” This was happening too suddenly, Kevin was good with warning you about the activities that go on behind the scenes of your parole and he didn’t even mention the thought of an early release.

The brunette man lets out a sigh, running his hair through his long hair. He then leans his elbows on the table with his head propped up on his palms, he opens his mouth to answer but is cut off by the office door opening.

The new Captain America and his sidekick come waltzing in, a few of his goons following as well. He didn’t need the uniform or shield for you to recognize him since his face has been plastered on every channel since they came forward with him. He’s all everyone could talk about.

“He released you.” You barely hear Kevin as your mind goes into spirals. What the hell did this guy want? Why is he even here? What the hell did he want with you?

[hangovercurse]

Wanna Help You Relax

You’ve been working really hard this week, and Colson wants to help you relax.

Request: “Hey I just saw that ur requests were on and I wanted to know if you could possibly write a cute little fluff/smit piece?”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), cursing

A/N: I didn’t know who you wanted so I just wrote about Colson, lmk if you want someone else! 

Word Count: 2143

masterlist

You were startled out of your work by the sound of your phone buzzing with a text message. You unlocked your phone to read the text from your boyfriend of 2 years, Colson, catching the time as you did. 7:30.

Will u be home 4 dinner?

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath, looking at the unfinished document in front of you. You sighed, trying to figure out what to do.

I just saw the time. I still have some work to do but I can bring it home

From his position on the couch in your house, Colson groaned.

You’ve been working on this all week, babe. You can take a break for a day

You rolled your eyes at his text. Somewhere inside of you knew that he was right. You hadn’t done much of anything except work for the past week, which has been the cause of tension in your relationship. But you knew if you didn’t finish this project by Friday that you definitely would not get the promotion you were up for.

I promise I’ll be done with it Friday, then I’ll take a break. I’m on my way

Honestly, he was lucky you were making it home for dinner, which was not something you had been able to do in the past three days. Instead, you had been opting to stay at the office late and skip dinner.

You threw the papers on your desk into their folder and the folder into your bag, along with your laptop and anything else you thought you might need.

 Colson had been trying not to get frustrated with your absence, but after being at home 24/7 with you and Casie, being without you was difficult. You would get home late, only to tell him you needed to work more. And anytime he tried to get you to sleep or eat or do anything else, you shut down, telling him “It’ll be done on Friday.”

And he knew he had no place to talk, he had left you for months at a time while he was touring sometimes, but at least he tried to call you as much as he could. Now it was just like you weren’t there at all.

You both tried to ignore the tension at dinner, focusing instead on light conversation, mostly facilitated by Casie, and the food. After you had all finished, Colson asked, “Case, could you do the dishes tonight?” The girl happily obliged, hopping around the table and picking up yours and Colson’s plates.

You thanked her, watching her leave into the kitchen before turning your eyes to Colson, only to find him already looking at you.  “I’m gonna go get some work done, babe.” You stood up, watching his eyes follow you slowly. You knew he wanted to say something, but you really appreciated that he didn’t. Instead, he just nodded, letting out a small sigh.

You walked into the office he had set up just for you when you moved in, placing your bag on the desk. You smiled at the picture of him that sat on the desk, the same one on your desk at your workplace. You sat down, pulling your laptop and papers out of the bag, and setting up your space.

After about an hour and a half of you working, Colson decided you needed a break. It was almost 10 pm and he just wanted to hold you for the next few hours before you both fell asleep. All of his friends made fun of him for it, but he turned into the softest person ever around you. It was the biggest reason he’d fallen in love with you, you made him a better person.

So, he walked into your office, quietly, smiling as he saw you typing away at the desk. He always thought you were prettiest when you looked like this, focused and determined. He walked up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders and massaging gently. You jumped a little when his hand first made contact, but quickly relaxed at his touch.

“Hi baby.” You smiled, looking up to him with a soft smile on your face.

He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, “Hi babe. How’s it goin?” He nodded towards the screen in front of you.

You sighed, turning to look towards the screen with a frown. “It’s getting there. I keep looking at these notes that my co-worker took but they aren’t quite fitting into what I already had, so I’ve been rearranging everything to see if I can incorporate both. It’s a bit frustrating but I think if I get this done by like noon tomorrow then I can finish everything by Friday morning and then polish everything up and turn it in.”

Colson let out a breath, resting his chin on your head. “You’re way too smart for me sometimes.” He chuckled.

You looked back up to him, a confused expression on your face. “That’s a lie and you know it. You’re a fucking musical genius.” You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, but Colson had another idea.

As soon as your lips met his, he placed a hand on your cheek, deepening the kiss. He hadn’t felt your lips in almost a week, and it had been killing him. Truthfully, you had missed it too. You wanted nothing more than to have his lips roaming your body, but you knew if you let that happen you wouldn’t get your project done.

You pulled away and turned back towards your screen, a soft smile on your lips. “C’mon baby.” He mumbled, “just take a break with me.” His hands returned to massaging your shoulders, his mouth moving down to your ear, pressing a kiss to the sweet spot just behind it. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He whispered, biting your earlobe lightly.

“Cols,” You whined, hating that he knew exactly what to do and say to turn you on. “I can’t.”

He kissed down your neck, nipping at the skin occasionally. “Yes, you can.” He moved up to your jaw, one hand turning your head back to face him. “You’ve been working so hard lately.” He mumbled, “I wanna help you relax.”

You hummed at the feeling of his lips on your hot skin. His lips hovered over yours, his hands traveling all over your body. “Wanna make you feel good.” He murmured before pressing his lips to yours.

Instinct took over you and you turned fully around in the chair, sitting on your knees and wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands went to your waist, running up and down your sides. He took your lower lip between his teeth, nibbling on the skin. His hands reached the bottom of your blouse, playing with it before pulling it up. You disconnected your lips to bring the shirt over your head, and Colson threw it across the room. You stood fully from the chair, hands running up his chest as his lips went to your neck, sucking the skin again as he traveled down to your collar bone and chest. His hands reached behind you, fiddling with the clasp of your bra before removing it.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Colson muttered, eyes travelling your chest. You blushed slightly, reaching to take his shirt off, which he gladly obliged to. His mouth moved back to your skin, taking one of your tits in his mouth, sucking gently on the nib in the center. You moaned as his hand came up to massage the other. The hands in his hair pulled gently on the blond strands, causing groans of pleasure from the tattooed man.

He pushed you backwards softly so you were leaning against the desk, his lips travelling down your stomach until they reached the waistline of your pants. He pressed small kisses over the area as he slowly unclasped the black material, pulling it down your legs to reveal your red underwear.

A smirk made its way to his face, kissing your heat through the material. You took in a breath through your teeth at the contact, realizing how long it had been since he’d made you cum.

He moved the material to the side, licking a slow stripe up your slit and watching your reaction. Your hold on his hair tightened and he chuckled, the vibrations shooting through your heat. His tongue dipped into your folds, collecting the wetness that had already been forming. He then moved up to your clit, taking the sensitive bud between his lips, sucking softly.

“Mmmm Colson that feels so fucking food.” You moaned softly. He looked up at you, watching your face as he worked on your clit. His hands travelled up your thighs, pulling the red fabric down your legs. Two fingers found their way to your folds and pressed gently into them.

You moaned out as he began to pump his long digits in and out of you, his mouth still working on your clit. You looked down, meeting his eyes that were darkened with lust. The sight of him alone almost made you fall off the edge, but his motions stopped as he felt you start to clench around him. He pulled his fingers out of you, standing up slowly and licking them clean. You whined at the loss of contact, to which he chuckled and moved closer to you.

“I’m gonna take you on this desk, baby girl.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. So, you simply nodded your head, closing your laptop and placing it and everything else onto the chair. Colson smiled at your obedience, pressing a small kiss to your lips and moving down to your jaw. His hands gripped your hips and slowly made their way down to your thighs, stopping right below your ass. He squeezed the skin and you lifted your legs up, wrapping them around his waist as he held you, leaning you against the small desk.

Your hands moved to the button of his pants, pulling them down with his boxers to release his member. You gripped it softly, running your hand up and down its length as Colson continued his attack on your jaw. He groaned against your skin at the feeling, quickly removing his lips from you to line himself up.

“You’ve been taking your pills, right?” He asked, softly.

You giggled, “Yes, babe, I’ve been taking my pills now will you please fuck me.”

Colson looked at you with a smile, eyes gazing deep into yours as he pushed himself into you. You threw your head back at the feeling, his cock spreading you out, grazing every inch of your pussy. He took that as his cue to press kisses to your neck and shoulders, slowly pulling himself out of you and thrusting back in. “You feel so good around me baby, shit.” He moaned, stabilizing you on the desk before moving his hands to your lower thighs.

You moaned as his thrusts got faster until he found a steady pace. It felt like his cock was made for you, hitting every spot that drove you wild. Every time he hit that one spot, you moaned out, causing Colson to thrust harder.

His head had found its place resting on your shoulder lips near your neck. He whispered, breath hitting your ear, “Wanna feel you cum around me, can you do that baby?”

You nodded slightly, moans still falling from your mouth. His pace picked up even more, and you could feel your orgasm approaching. His lips returned to your neck, biting and sucking at your sweet spots, enough to send you over the edge.

“Fuck I’m gonna-“

“Cum for me baby.” His voice pushed you over the edge, euphoria taking over your body in waves. The feeling of you clenching around him prompting his climax. You felt his cock twitch as his hot seed entered you, his thrusts slowing down as you both moaned in pleasure.

You both stayed in that position for a while, his hot breath hitting your neck as you tried to slow your breaths. Finally, Colson pulled out of you, setting your legs onto the ground.

“Honestly, I’ve been thinking about fucking you on this desk since you moved in.” He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You smiled, “guess we need to do it again at some point.” You hopped of the desk, grabbing his shirt from the floor, not feeling like putting your pants on. “You wanna grab a shower with me?”

“That is the most ridiculous question I’ve ever heard. Of course I do.” He buttoned his jeans, grabbing your clothes from the floor. He took your hand in his, leading you to your shared bathroom.

Safe to say that you were definitely more relaxed.

[willowisbunger]

God Im Sorry (A tapeworm clef fanfic)

Before we begin. This is all for jokes. I am so sorry for anyone who has to read this. Its also just a draft and will be complete at some point. For now enjoy what little I give you.

You find yourself resting on the couch of your dearly beloveds bed quarters. You scroll through your phone looking fondly at old text messages of when you and your husband to be's first text messages. All the ridiculous nicknames you two exchanged, all the flirting, photos, and various other things you two have sent to each other over the years. You couldn't help but giggle. You find it hard to believe this all started cause you decided to help some weird blonde guy with a ukulele out with his broken leg.

You two have been dating for almost 8 years and two months ago, the man, Dr. Alto Clef. He took you on a date. Just a nice simple stroll around the woods, which ended in a nice picnic by a river. In which you saw the man you have fallen head over heels for, get down on one knee and began plucking at the strings of his ukulele. Singing a sweet melody like a song bird in the spring, before pulling out a wedding ring and asking those simple words of "will you marry me". Your heart flutters with glee as you chuckle. You feel giddy and so over joyed with happiness. Right as your giggle fit calmed down you heard the front door open, and there stood your beloved. With a wide grin on his face as he held some folders in his hands. He had a doctors appointment that day since he had been feeling strange. With his face showing his usual bright beaming smile and his three beautiful eyes showing their usual mischievous gleam, it was clear that he was in more than perfect shape.

"Heya there pumpkin. I'm home. And I've got some great news." He spoke in a raspy slightly southern voice. At first it was grating on ya, but now its like all your favorite songs combine into one incredible tune. "Welcome home sweetheart!" You chirped as you ran up to your beloved teddy bear to give him a quick peck to the lips as you hugged him close, "What's the good news teddy? I can tell from that big dumb grin of yours ya got somethin real good to tell me. What did the doctor say?" You said as you affectionately pinched his cheeks causing him to laugh as he took both your hands to hold. "Well besides me being fit as a bull. Looks like I'm gonna be eating for two from now on."

You blinked and tilted your head in confusion, slowly processing the information as you stepped back a lil. "How? Babe I never top and we always use protection. Who-" "Oh no pumpkin. I ain't pregnant" He interrupted, chuckling as he ruffled your hair. "I got a tape worm. The doc took some sonograms of my stomach to see if there were any issues and yeah, there's a lil fella in there. Look." The blonde handed you the folder, which you opened and began reading through and your face turned pale at the sight of the tape worm in the photo of an ultra sound. You gagged a lil as you shoved the folder back into clefs arm. "Babe that's not okay!!!! That's a parasite!!!! Its gonna just keep reproducing and shit and its gonna fuck up your insides." You said quite loudly, usually you were quiet but this, this was making you quite distressed. Your fiancés face turned from a smile to a disappointed frown "I thought you would've liked clef junior....".

You stood baffled at the situation before you. Your dearly beloved, just, accepting and seeming to be happy about the fact he has a god damn TAPE WORM living inside of him. You've seen some shit in your days working for the foundation. A sheet of music that makes people go bonkers and try to bleed, Kondraki -clefs ex- ridding on god damn 682, and other shit that would boggle anyone's mind. But this. THIS RIGHT HERE. Just.... Leaves you speechless. "Pumpkin?" the third eyed man spoke in a concerned tone, which rarely came from him. "Are you okay?" You held your head in your hands as you sat back down on the plush couch and just took a deep breathe, and just as quickly as you sat down you sprung back up, grabbing your jacket and zipping it up. "Babe.... I just.... I need a moment.... I'll be out for awhile.... This is just, strange even for you and I need a moment to think about this." You sped walk past your -potentially ex- husband to be to the door. You shut the door, seeing Clef's face look uncharacteristically sad at you. It hurt you a little to leave your teddy bear like that, but you still needed time to just, think and process this whole situation.

You leave the housing area for researchers and quickly the site as well. You hail a cab and as soon as you enter the bright yellow vehicle you tell the faceless driver to "Take me to the nearest motel." Which he happily complied especially with the hefty tip you gave him. You just, Needed awhile to think and god knows how long that could be so you may as well rent out a room away from that hell site foundation to have a clear mind. After all who knows what might happen. Fucking Dr. Bright could tell you to give it a chance and raise the worm together with your teddy bear or some shit. You never know with this job and the people you worked with. While in your thoughts you rented out a room, room 105. Great another reminder of your hell job, even though it was just the simple numbers of 0 and 5 you can't help but be reminded of your faceless higher ups and the fact you work for them.

You found your room and quickly made your way inside to flop down on the bed, beforehand making sure to put up the "Do not disturb" sign and locking it. You burried your face into the hard cheap pillows of this motel, missing the one you had back at your place with its soft textures and the scent of your beloved.... Which once again brought you back to the worm. That fucking worm. Why the hell was your husband so keen on keeping it? He's at least some form of scientist he should know that tape worms are a dangerous parasite that affect your health. You stare up at the popcorn ceiling just, trying to wrap your head around WHY. Why would your partner; your future husband; the one who knows everything about you and you know everything about them.... just why are they keeping the tape worm?

You of course knew the stuff your teddy was known for, sleeping with that statue after a date, killing a dangerous reality bending child, father to 166 (who you were honestly happy to take in as your new step daughter). Out of everything. The tape worm makes you break. Makes you rethink your relationship with the man you've been dating for years at this point. All you can do at this moment is sigh, hearing the phone in your coat pocket buzz. You pull it out and set it to "do not disturb" as you set the device aside on a night stand. "Maybe I should sleep it off. Maybe I'll have a clearer mind then...." You say to yourself as you threw your coat off and roll onto your side. Feeling uncomfortable in your current clothes but you didn't pack a bag so, you just ignore the discomfort until eventually.... You drift off to sleep. The shallow hum of power surging through the building and the busy city outside envelop you as you feel unconsciousness take over.

While in your state of unconsciousness you hear a silky smooth, deep yet gentle voice speak to  you. "Y/N... Y/N its time to wake up Y/N". You slowly awoke, opening your groggy eyes, what laid before you, you didn't know. They had a handsome chiseled face, comparable to the statues found in ancient Greece with even a similar tone of white marble. They had thick luxurious hair that went down to their waste, rippling muscles that went down both torso and back.... They were ungodly white though. And didn't have legs. You stared at the bottom half and slowly processed what you were looking at..... A fucking tapeworm man. A fucking humanoid tape worm what the fuck. "Im going back to bed" You said as you laid on your side, and tried to ignore the hallucination.

The tapeworm creature, slid over you just to get to the side you were facing. You shivered feeling it’s disgusting body wiggle about. You close your eyes tightly as you did your best to ignore it. You could feel yourself holding back even more shivers as you felt their cold hands touch your face. “Y/n…. Look at me…. I just want to talk.” “And I just want to be left alone and not think about tapeworm men trying to seduce me while I’m contemplating breaking up my engagement.”

[nxrthmizu]

love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There’s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!” Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

[bluejayblueskies]

eros

n. a natural, passionate love; based in physical touch, such as a kiss to the back of a hand or to another’s lips 

Words: 3.1k Relationship: Jonathan Sims/Tim Stoker Tags: Pre-Archives, First Date, Alcohol, Ace Rings, Asexual Jonathan Sims, Kiss-Averse Jonathan Sims, Sex-Repulsed Jonathan Sims Warnings: internalized acephobia (throughout), mention of past acephobia (brief), fear of poor reaction to finding out a character is asexual (doesn’t actually occur), brief mention of unsafe food

|| Ao3 ||

.

In retrospect, Tim probably shouldn’t have begun their very first conversation on their very first date at the very nice bistro by the Thames (which he’d chosen because he’d panicked and picked the place that was the least likely to earn Jon’s disdainful expression) with, “I really, uh, like your ring?”

 It had seemed innocuous enough. But from the way that Jon froze up, his eyes affixed to the menu in front of him with suddenly rapt attention, it was painfully apparent that somehow, somewhere, Tim had fucked up. It had barely been five minutes since they’d walked through the doors of the restaurant and their date had officially started, and he’d already managed to ruin it. God, it had taken him months—months—to work up the courage to ask Jon—beautiful, prickly, awkward, and completely oblivious Jon—out on a real, actual date—no, not a lunch date, not a coffee date, a would you like to get dinner with me date?—and he’d already somehow crossed a line he hadn’t known not to cross.

 “Or, uh. Not?” Tim’s mouth says all on its own, which is worse, so much worse, just shut up Timothy Stoker. In an effort to do some—any—kind of damage control, Tim says, “Sorry, just- just forget I mentioned it. The, er. The mushroom ravioli here is good?”

 Tim’s never had the mushroom ravioli. It just seemed like a good thing to say.

 Fuck.

Jon still hasn’t said anything. One of his hands has gone to the shining gold ring holding the cream-colored fabric napkin neatly wrapped and is twisting it back and forth, like Tim usually sees him do with the black ring that sits on the middle finger of his right hand. The ring that Tim had seen ages ago, back when Jon had first joined Research, a stripe around the base of his finger that was fractionally darker than the skin around it. It was something he never took off, and Tim found his gaze going to it every time Jon would hand him a book or a file folder or a cup of coffee. He’s held Jon’s hand only once, and the ring had been cool against his fingers, worn smooth from how often Jon’s hands went to it during the day to twist it back and forth, an absent-minded motion done whenever Jon was stressed or anxious or nervous or just deep in thought.

 Jon’s fingers twitch around the napkin ring, just for a moment, like they’re itching to reach for something else, before stilling, and now Tim just feels guilty. Before he can stop himself, he says, “I- I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, Jon. I’ve just. I’ve always thought it was nice?” Oh god, stop talking, just stop—

 “It looks good on you.”

 Finally, Jon looks up from his menu, his eyes blown wide with surprise. “What?” he says, his voice just a touch rougher than normal, and Tim isn’t sure whether or not to find that incredibly concerning or incredibly hot.

 Focus, Stoker.

 Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, he supposes. So, with a shrug that’s meant to seem casual but really, really isn’t, Tim says, “I’ve always thought so. The way you fiddle with it sometimes, it’s- it’s, I don’t know, cute.”

 “Cute?” Jon says, that same roughness scraping the edges of the word raw.

 Fuck it. “Yes, Jon, cute. I asked you on a date because I think you’re cute and because I want to spend more time with you and because I like you. And I just- I don’t know, it just seemed like the ring was something special to you? Maybe should have gone for something like favorite movie first or something, but I already know a lot of that stuff, and I guess I just. Wanted to ask?”

 Tim’s thrown all semblance of this being a put-together, normal date out the window. Not that anything has ever been normal, or easy for that matter, with Jonathan Sims. Still, he wants this to work. He wants it so goddamn bad he aches. So he bites his tongue, watches Jon’s face, and waits.

 The waiter comes to their table suddenly and without any preamble, with quite possibly the worst timing ever. Tim has no idea what Jon orders. He just blurts out mushroom ravioli on instinct and orders a mid-priced bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon because if this conversation turns any more sideways, at least he’ll have wine to drown his sorrows in.

 There’s a brief pause after the waiter leaves, during which Tim can’t help but notice that Jon’s hand has gone back to his ring, twisting it back and forth on his finger with what now seems like an intentional focus, a way to ground himself in the feeling of it against the pads of his fingers. Then, Jon lets out a small exhalation and says, “I’m… I’m not upset that you asked, Tim.”

 Oh. Tim searches for something to say and comes up with nothing. Relief and confusion curl in his chest in equal measure, and he settles for just nodding, giving Jon what he hopes is an encouraging smile—though it feels decidedly more like a grimace than he’d like.

 In the interim, the wine arrives at their table, their glasses filled by the waiter and the bottle set near the candle flickering in the center. The firelight refracts off the dark glass and Tim swears he can see it reflected in Jon’s eyes, a repeating reflection of flames in Jon’s pupils that goes on for eternity. Tim takes his glass, feeling the desperate need to have something in his hands, and takes a long sip of the wine. It’s nicely bitter on his tongue, briefly chasing away the salty, nervous taste that had filled his mouth.

 Jon takes his own glass in hand and tilts it back and forth, watching the red liquid within swirl around and around. After a long moment, he says, “I wear it for a reason, and I… I suppose I’m afraid that you won’t care for that reason.”

 What? Tim sets his glass down more heavily than he intends to and reaches across the table. When his hand meets Jon’s, Jon flinches ever so slightly.

 “Sorry, sorry,” Tim says, hastily retracting his hand. Before it can retreat more than a few inches, however, Jon shakes his head and reaches forward, grasping Tim’s hand firmly in his. His fingers are warm and dry against Tim’s, and the ring on his finger is cool to the touch where it presses against Tim’s palm.

 “Please, don’t- don’t apologize.” Jon looks down at the table, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and worrying it for a moment before continuing, softly, “I just don’t want to mess this up before it’s even begun.”

 Tim says, with more certainty than he’s ever felt about anything, “You aren’t going to.”

 Jon sighs, exasperated. “Tim, you can’t possibly know that.”

 “Yeah, I can. Because whatever horrible reaction you’re expecting from me isn’t going to happen. Unless your big secret is that you’re secretly a mass murderer, or- or that you’re only dating me to use me for some big master plan—neither of which seem likely explanations for the situation at hand—I’m not going to hate you for telling me. If you don’t want to, I won’t pressure you to, but I don’t want you to not do it because you think I’m going to like you any less for whatever it is. I’ve had a year and a half to pine over you, Jonathan Sims—believe me when I say that I want to be here, with you, more than I’ve wanted a lot of things in my life.”

 Tim really hadn’t meant to say all that, but there it is, and he finds he really doesn’t regret any of it. Well, maybe the pining bit, if only to scrape back together at least a bit of his over-confident and charismatic reputation. Jon’s eyes are wide with shock again, and his mouth opens and closes a few times before he finally says, in a punched-out voice, “A year and a half?”

 Oh. “Ah, yeah,” Tim says sheepishly, rubbing his free hand on the back of his neck. “Didn’t really think I was being all that subtle, but. Yeah.”

 Jon looks scandalized. “Tim, that’s the entire time I’ve been in Research! This whole time, you’ve—”

 He breaks off with a strangled noise, and if Tim squints, he thinks he can see the tips of Jon’s cheeks darkening, though that could just be the flicker of candlelight across his face. “You didn’t say anything,” Jon says finally, after several seconds of silence during which Tim decided to stop pretending like he’d ever been anything other than completely enamored with Jonathan Sims.

 “Sure I did,” Tim says with a shrug and a sliver of a teasing smile. “Three days ago, when I asked you out to dinner. And now, of course, can’t forget that.”

 “Tim!” Jon’s hand retreats from Tim’s and he pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Christ, and I thought six months was a long time.”

 “Six months?” Tim echoes, a wide grin splitting his face in two. “Wait, wait, have you been—”

 “Tim—”

 “—for six months?”

 “Well, it’s better than a year and a half!” Jon snaps, taking his hand away from his nose and shooting Tim a glare that contains about as much heat as a block of ice.

 Tim laughs and reaches for Jon’s hand again; when Jon sighs and allows him to take it, Tim runs a thumb along the back of it, feeling the smooth texture of Jon’s ring as his thumb passes over it. “Mm, perhaps I should have said something sooner,” he relents, his mouth still curved into a smile. “But I didn’t want to mess things up. I like you so fucking much, Jon, and right now, I can hardly think of anything in the world that could change that. All right?”

 Jon’s staring at their hands, his forehead creased with lines of mild irritation. When he says, “All right,” there’s still a touch of petulance to it, but there’s something softer behind it as well. Something warmer.

 “All right,” Tim repeats.

 They talk about everything and nothing as the evening stretches on, and Tim doesn’t mention the ring. He can tell that Jon’s still thinking about it by the way that his hand goes to it every so often, twisting it around his finger as he talks about the proper types of grass for each climate and the fermentation process for the wine they’re drinking and the food safety protocols put in place to ensure that things like insect legs and metal shards don’t end up in their meals.

 (“Ew,” Tim says, spitting his wine back out into his glass and giving Jon a look that he hopes fully communicates his disgust.

 “Sorry,” Jon says with a wince. “Um. But it’s safe? Because of the protocols.”

 Tim is not convinced.)

 Despite all of that, the meal is lovely, and the tingling warmth the wine is sending throughout his body is lovely, and Jon is lovely. Tim can’t stop staring at him—at the few curls that have slipped loose from his braid and that now frame the sides of his face, at the crisp cut of the emerald green suit he’s wearing that Tim had almost made a joking remark about before he realized that he found it really, really hot, at the way that Jon’s nose wrinkles and his hand flies up to cover his lips when he laughs, like his joy is a secret to be kept hidden. Tim has to take another long drink of wine to keep himself from blurting out right then and there that he loves Jon; he doesn’t think that an hour into their first date is quite the right time to lay his entire heart bare.

 They haggle over the check for an embarrassingly long time until Jon finally relents when Tim pulls out the a year and a half is a much longer time than six months, Jon, and also I asked you card. The night is cold and biting when they step out of the warmth of the bistro, and when Jon gives a full-body shiver as they’re walking to the tube station, Tim doesn’t think twice before shrugging off his coat and wrapping it around Jon’s shoulders.

 “Tim, I can’t take this.”

 “Oh? Seems to me like you already have it. Would probably be more trouble to give it back at this point.”

 Jon looks at the ground sullenly, gripping the edges of Tim’s coat with thin-fingered hands and pulling it tightly around him. “Must you always be so- so chivalrous?” Jon mutters, like it’s somehow a crime now to be nice to people.

 “Only on days that end with ‘y,’” Tim quips, and he wraps his arm around Jon’s shoulders. His fingers brush against the ring on Jon’s hand, settling there as they continue on their way.

 Tim doesn’t really live near Jon, but he still walks with Jon to his flat, his left hand at some point having slipped into Jon’s right. The ring cuts gently into the flesh of Tim’s palm as they walk, and Tim wonders if Jon finds the pressure of it between their hands as grounding of a presence as Tim does. Then, they’re at the door to Jon’s flat, and Jon lets his hand slip from Tim’s as he fumbles for his keys, narrowly avoiding dropping Tim’s coat onto the ground as he catches it with one hand and retrieves his keys with the other.

 “I…” Jon hesitates, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, before continuing, “I had a nice time tonight. I… that is to say, if… if you would like to do it again, I… I wouldn’t be opposed.”

 Tim chuckles, a soft, quiet noise, and throws caution to the wind, placing a gentle hand on the side of Jon’s face and feeling the prickle of stubble against his palm. It draws a surprised, breathy noise from Jon’s mouth, and when Jon’s eyes find his, Tim sees in them those same nerves from before, when Tim had finally tripped his way into It looks good on you. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t be opposed either,” Tim says with an audible smile in his voice, running a thumb softly over the curve of Jon’s jaw.

 Jon lets out another little noise, and all in a rush, Tim thinks, I want to kiss him.

 So he takes a step closer to Jon, lets his eyes fall to Jon’s lips, and says, “Can I kiss you?”

 The nervousness in Jon’s eyes multiplies tenfold, and in a quiet voice, like he’s admitting to something overwhelmingly tragic, he says, “Is it okay if I say no?”

 Something sharp shoots through Tim’s chest at that, and he only recognizes it as concern after he’s taken a small, shuffling step back in some instinctual effort to give Jon more space. Tim can see a million thoughts flashing across Jon’s face, none of them good, so he says before Jon can think to- to apologize again or something, “Of course it’s okay, Jon.” He hesitates only a moment before allowing himself to give in to the confusion nagging beneath the concern (and ignoring the hurt below that) and saying, “Is… does this have something to do with the ring?”

 Because Tim can put two and two together like any researcher worth his salt. And by the way Jon’s hand instinctively flies to his ring when Tim says it, he knows that he’s right. He just doesn’t know why.

 “I said you wouldn’t like it,” Jon says quietly, and Tim’s heart breaks at the certainty in Jon’s voice. Even though Tim hasn’t said anything yet. Tim gets the horrible, sinking feeling that this has happened before and that whoever had been standing in his shoes then had not been nearly so kind.

 “Jon,” Tim says firmly, his hand dropping from Jon’s face and finding Jon’s hand instead. He tangles their fingers together and squeezes tightly, hoping that the sensation will ground Jon enough that he’ll be able to hear what Tim has to say and that he’ll believe it. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to kiss me, then we don’t have to kiss.” He hesitates, only for a moment, before continuing carefully, “If you don’t want to do… any of that with me, that’s also okay.” He bites back the need to make a joke to dispel the awkwardness and says instead, straightforwardly, “Kissing, sex, all of that—I like them, sure, but I like you more, Jon. So if you don’t want to do any of that, then we don’t have to, okay?”

 Jon’s hand is stiff in Tim’s, but his eyes when they meet Tim’s are wide and watery and full of a raw uncertainty, like he thinks that any moment Tim will admit that it’s all too much, that Jon isn’t enough, that it just isn’t working out. Whatever he sees reflected back in Tim’s eyes, however, is enough to cut through that uncertainty and leave behind something cautiously hopeful. “You… you really mean that,” Jon says, a strange sort of wonder in his voice, like a child staring up at a truly clear sky for the first time and witnessing the full scope of the stars above.

 “I do,” Tim says resolutely, leaving absolutely no room for misunderstanding.

 Jon looks down at where their hands are joined and says, quietly, “Okay.”

 That same rushing, swelling feeling overtakes Tim in a tidal wave of affection, and he says, “Are hugs okay?”

 Jon lets out a little huff. “Yes, Tim, of course hugs are—”

 His sentence ends in a punched-out noise as Tim wraps him tightly in a hug, feeling Jon’s hair tickle the side of his neck and the rapid-fire hummingbird beating of Jon’s heart against his chest. “Good,” Tim says into Jon’s hair. He takes a chance and presses his lips to the crown of Jon’s head; from the way that Jon shivers and presses himself closer into Tim’s embrace, it was the correct choice. So he does it again, holding Jon close and trying to communicate with the press of his arms and the pressure of his lips against Jon’s hair just how much he wants this. How much he wants Jon.

 “I really should get inside,” Jon says finally, his voice slightly muffled from where his face is buried in the fabric of Tim’s shirt. “It’s gotten to be quite late.”

 “Mm, just give me a sec,” Tim mumbles into Jon’s hair, holding him a bit tighter to accentuate his point.

 Jon’s laugh is light and breathy, rumbling against Tim’s chest like the purring of a cat. “Okay,” he says, his smile hidden by Tim’s shoulder. “Okay.”

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 13

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

Your heart sunk as Steve’s words echoed throughout your head.  He said he wanted to talk.  He said that things were not alright.  This was it. This was why you never bothered to try and be in another relationship again.  Sure, John was part of that decision too.  After what he had done to you for years, you didn’t want to start any kind of relationship either.  You were happy with your single life.  Just you, your cozy apartment and your job.  What more could you have asked for?

Now, now you were starting to really enjoy the relationship and dynamic between Steve and Bucky, but what happens now?  Do you move out? Do you remain in a relationship with Bucky?  Just because someone has a soulmate, doesn’t mean it always works out.  It’s rare to not live your life with a soulmate, but it’s happened.  

“Stevie, what’s going on here?” Bucky asked, walking further into the room.  

Steve sighed, turning to face you and Bucky.  “Look. Why don’t we all just take a shower and meet back in the living room.  I’ll have pizza ordered and we can talk about a few things.”

“Yeah.  Alright pal,” Bucky spoke as he placed a hand on your shoulder.  “Are you alright doll?”

No.  No you were most certainly not alright.  Your chin began to quiver but you willed your tears to stay away, at least for now.  “I think so,” you replied to Bucky, your eyes begging Steve to look at you but he wouldn’t.

When you made it to the hallway, you ran to your door as you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Once inside, your underwear and shirt were ripped from your body on your own accord.  With the shower turned on, you stood under the waterfall and cried. Sobbing your heart out.  You didn’t know what Steve wanted to talk about. The only thing on your mind was that he wanted to end things with you.  

After your tears ran dry, you hopped out of the shower and dried off.  You were rather sore in the lower half so you decided to forgo wearing any underwear and instead put on a baggy pair of sweat pants along with a long sleeve top to hide the cuts on your wrist.  

Slipping on your slippers, you quietly walked down the hallway and towards the living room. Bucky and Steve were both already there. All three of you were practically matching.  Everyone wearing sweatpants and comfortable shirts.  They were moving the pizza boxes into the living room when Bucky eyed you.

He motioned his head towards the couch.  “Come on doll.  Let’s eat.”

The last thing on your mind was eating at this point.  Your stomach was a wreck of nerves as you sat down in the middle of the couch.  Steve and Bucky sat on the chairs on either side of you and they began to dig into the pizza.  

You wanted to eat. You wanted to show Steve that you could obey the rules, but your stomach was in knots.  Bile began to work its way up your throat and you rushed to grab your water, taking a sip.

“You have to eat Y/N,” Steve said between bites; his eyes finally on you.  

Again, your chin began to tremble.  This time you weren’t able to stop the single tear that rolled down your cheek.  “I-I can’t.  I’ll eat after we talk.  I promise. I’m too nervous to even think about food right now.”

Bucky put his plate down, concern on his face.  “Why are you so nervous doll?”

The floodgates opened and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop the tears.  “You’re going to break up with me aren’t you Steve?” you bawled.  “Please don’t leave me.  I didn’t mean to be bad.  I’ll do better.  I promise! But you can’t leave me!  I’m so sorry I fucked this up Steve!  I always fuck things up.”

You were weeping deeply, your hands covering your face as you were bent at the waist; forehead to your knees.  The couch dipped on either side of you and you were lifted by strong arms into someone’s lap.  Steve. It was Steve’s lap.  You knew his smell.  

There was a cold chill on your back and you knew it was from Bucky’s metal arm.  “Sweetheart,” Steve cooed as he rocked you gently back and forth, “Where did you get the idea that I wanted to leave you?”

Your fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him closer to you as you tried your best to take deep breaths, inhaling his scent.  God it was so calming being this close to him.  

“You-you said things weren’t ok and that-that we needed to-to talk,” you hiccupped.  Steve held you tighter as you spoke.  

“No sweetheart.  I would never leave you.  There is nothing you can do that would make me want to leave this relationship.  Do you understand me?”  You didn’t want to speak, so instead you nodded your head.  “Alright good.  Now, I’m going to hand you over to Bucky because I have to go and grab a few things.”

Carefully, Bucky pulled you into his arms and you curled up on his lap; your head resting against his chest.  His heartbeat was strong.  Steady. Just like Steve’s.  It was calming and soothing.  

“Doll, what’s got you acting like this?  First you were furious and angry and now this.  I’m worried about you.”

His words clenched at your heart.  It had been a lot time since anyone said they were actually worried about you.  John never worried about you.  No.  He didn’t care how you felt.  All he cared about was how he felt.  He was the most selfish man you had ever met.  

Steve’s footsteps made you perk your head up.  In his hands were a few folders with paper tucked inside.  He sat at the end of the couch facing you and Bucky.  

“Why don’t you come sit in the middle,” Steve said, patting the couch.  Like a sloth, you slowly untangled yourself from Bucky and sat cross legged in the middle of the couch.  “Now, I want you to know that I am not mad at you alright?  But I am disappointed.”

Disappointed.  That was never a fun feeling.  It never felt good to hear someone is disappointed in you. Especially if that someone means a lot to you.  

Steve grabbed the folders in his hands before giving them to Bucky.  You didn’t know what was in those folders.  You weren’t sure you ever wanted to know.  The last few days had been long and tiring and you just wanted to sleep for the next week straight.  

It was quiet in the living room as Bucky glanced over the paperwork.  He didn’t say anything.  With a quick glance, you looked over to him.  His face was emotionless.  Was that a good thing?  At least he didn’t look angry.  Right? Your heart hammered in your chest as you waited.  Waited for what seemed like hours.  Was this night ever going to end?

“Are we ready to begin?” Steve asked as he watched Bucky close the folders and place them on the coffee table in front of you.  

Bucky was still quiet, his thoughts pondering everything for a few minutes.  “Take it away Stevie.”

A few tears trailed down your cheeks as you waited.  At least Steve wasn’t breaking up with you, so that was a positive thing.  

“You’ve withheld some pretty important information from us Y/N,” Steve’s voice was stern, but not angry. “Do you want to tell us about that?”

Your arms trembled as you placed them on your lap.  You began to play with the hem of your shirt as you thought of what to say.  “Is it about my ex?” you asked.  

“That, and some other things.  But let’s start off with him,” Steve began to speak with authority as he picked up one of the folders on table and began to go through it.  “From the first time we discussed your past, the way you made it sound was that you were only with him for a few months after he began raping and beating you.  From this police file, it states you were with him for almost four years.”

He was right.  You were with him for that long.  John was rich.  He had security and power.  Power over other people and definitely power over you.  You had felt like a prisoner with him.  It took many years to plan your escape.  To plan it in such a way that you knew he’d be locked up for good.

You explained that to Steve and Bucky and they sat close to you, nodding at your words.  They were being very understanding of this all and that was exactly what you needed.  “I’m sorry if I made it sound like I was only with him for a few months.  I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

“It’s ok doll, we understand,” Bucky cooed softly, grabbing your hand with his as his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your skin.  

Steve closed the folder and picked up the other one.  It was thick. There was so much paper inside that folder.  “Now,” Steve began as he held up the folder in his hands.  “Were you ever going to tell us about your mental health issues?”

Yep.  You kind of figured this was what it was going to be about. Steve moved closer to you as he wiped a tear from your cheek.  “I-I, yes I was going to tell you about that.  I just was kind of waiting for the right time because you two had a lot on your plate with missions.  I didn’t want to distract you two.”

“Sweetheart, that’s not how this relationship works.  You’ll never be a distraction to us.  You are the most important person in our lives and we just want to be able to protect you and keep you safe.  Is this why you’ve been acting out so much the last few days?”

You nodded and began to explain everything to them.  They had already read your file of course, but they wanted to hear it from you.  You explained your parents suicide.  How mental health runs in the family.  You explained that you were diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and how your medications were not working.  They were worried about that part instantly, but you assured them you had an appointment with your psychiatrist in a few weeks to sort that all out.  

“Let me see your arm sweetheart,” Steve said in a soft tone.  

Your eyes snapped up to meet his.  “What? Why?”  You didn’t want to show them your cuts.  You didn’t want them to worry about you anymore than they already had.

Steve’s eyes were both pleading and demanding.  You knew you weren’t getting out of this situation.  With a shaky sigh, you gave him your left arm.  He carefully pulled back the long sleeves and a gasp left both his and Bucky’s mouth.  

Bucky moved from the spot behind you and kneeled in front of you and Steve.  They both had your arm in their hands as they gently inspected the cuts that ran up and down your wrist.  

“Oh doll,” Bucky spoke with sadness in his voice, making you break down.  

“I’m sorry,” you wept, not being able to hold back anymore.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to, I promise.  Please don’t be mad at me.”

You were wrapped up in their strong arms and you had never felt so safe, so protected in your life.

“We’re not mad at you doll. Not about this,” Bucky said, Steve quickly agreeing with him.  

“You promise?”

“We promise doll.”

Steve and Bucky sat on the couch as you lay across their legs.  Your head was on Steve’s chest and your legs rested on Bucky’s.  You had felt so content, so satisfied to just be sitting there with your soulmates.

“I want to apologize to you Y/N for how I acted last night,” Steve said and you pulled away from his chest to look at him.  Your brows furrowed in confusion.  “When we were together last night.  Intimate. I was a little rough with you and I’m sorry.  I never meant to hurt you.”

“Steve,” you said his name with a smile on your lips.  “Don’t be sorry.  You didn’t hurt me, I promise.  And as for the rough part.  Well, I really enjoyed it,” you admitted.  “Too be honest.  I was kind of surprised.  I didn’t think you had it in you.  I was fully expecting Bucky to be the rough one in the relationship.”

The three of you let out soft chuckles of laughter.  

“There is something we should probably discuss though,” Bucky spoke up.  “I know we’ve both been with you now, intimately.  But we never discussed being safe.”

You knew exactly what Bucky was talking about and you wanted to ease their minds.  “No need to worry about that.  I’m clean and I’m on the pill too.”

Collective sighs came from both of your soulmates.  No babies for you three yet.  At least, not anytime soon.  You wanted to enjoy your time with them.  You wanted them to yourself.  

You face became ablaze with heat as you felt their eyes on you.  

“Tell us what you want doll. What do you want right this moment?” Bucky asked, his hands roaming over you sweatpants clad legs.  

Looking between the two of them, there was only one thing in this exact moment that you wanted.  

“I want both of you.”

That was all they needed to hear.  Steve picked you up, bridal style and the three of you made quick work of getting to your bedroom.

[sodone-withlife]

icarus fell, and blood stained the ground

i'm back!! (but not really—the new school year literally starts in an hour and it will be back to my pathological dependence on academic validation. at least i can say i've technically published another fic before summer break ends)

anyway, here's the fic in response to part 1 of sumayyah's post. i published a companion poem for this some time ago. as per usual, i gave up on proofreading so hopefully any mistakes don't detract from the story. also, i hope the formatting and jumping back and forth between italics makes sense—let me know if it doesn't, though it might be easier to read on ao3 (it should go up on there by 4pm PST because school)

warnings: murder, major character death (may potentially be classified as suicide-by-proxy, depending on your interpretation), guns, canon typical violence, slight gore at the end, mentioned substances

word count: 1.9k words

The damned man thought of everything, Jessica thought as she scowled at the damned folder that sat innocuously on the large mahogany desk.

The desk that would soon be cleared, all traces of the previous owner gone.

She lifted a shaky hand and brushed it through her hair, shuddering at its greasy and unkempt state that hinted at the state she had been in recently. Weary to the bone, she forced herself to sit back up and grab her phone, dialing the number that was written on the sticky note placed on the inside cover of the folder. It didn’t surprise her to hear an unfamiliar female voice answer the phone with a “Ms. Brooks?”

He had thought of everything, after all.

Really, the only thing she was surprised at was the sheer extent of his connections—but thinking back to her phone calls with Haley back when he was still practicing law, the talks about extravagant offers from top corporations and firms, she really wasn’t surprised. Thus, it made sense that her call to the top law firm in the state would be answered within two dial tones and by someone who already knew who she was.

And within minutes of talking with the woman who introduced herself as Ms. Stevens, Jessica became even more aware of just how prepared her brother-in-law had been before he walked to his dea—

Not an in-law anymore—her brother. He had long since earned that designation, that spot in her broken family, no matter how much self-flagellation he put himself through in regards to her sister’s murder and no matter how much abuse her father hurled at him in the years before the man who once viewed him as a son succumbed to dementia.

Hours later, despite having already reached her limit twenty minutes into the call, she finally hung up the phone with only funeral arrangements as an immediate concern. Slowly, she stood up from the chair and mechanically made her way into the tiny bathroom that had once been a familiar sight, when her nephew was still a child—

She forced her mind away from that minefield; she wasn’t willing to spend another sleepless night thinking about what had gone down in the past month, what had happened a week ago in that apartment, what her nephew was doing and thinking in the cell that only seemed to become colder and crueler the more she thought about it.

How many prisons had he visited? How many interrogation rooms, holding cells, general population cells, max security cells, death row cells? Did he ever get used to it? Could he allow himself to get used to it, to forget that these people are also human no matter the crimes they’ve committed?

A careful hand fell onto Jessica’s shoulder, and she shuddered under the warmth that seeped into her body, a warmth that had been lacking from her life for a long time now. She turned to see Morgan staring back at her, concerned.

“You didn’t pick up your phone,” he explained neutrally, flicking his eyes towards her phone—and sure enough, there were ten missed calls, each from a member of the team. She looked back up but avoided his concerned gaze only to latch onto her reflection in the mirror and internally winced at her haggard appearance.

“Did you—“ she coughed, clearing her throat, “have you figured out what happened?” Morgan’s unspoken question about her well-being went unanswered, and she continued to avoid looking at him.

She watched the man shake his head through the mirror, unsurprised and once again cursing her brother for his incessant habit of playing his cards close to his chest, especially when it came to personal issues.

How else is—was—he one of the best at poker in the bureau, often even beating Reid?

“He hasn’t talked, either,” Morgan informed her quietly, saving her the pain of asking the question herself. “Forensics is still struggling to put together a cohesive picture. To be honest, I doubt we’ll ever find out what actually happened in that apartment.” He shook his head, frustrated at the man he considered his brother.

If either of them bothered to ask, they would have found that both were truthfully unsurprised at this outcome, given what they only recently learned about the factors and circumstances that led to it. The few established facts about this case in addition to speculation based on systematically organized notes left in an even more meticulously organized folder painted a clear enough picture of the events preceding the fall.

But it wasn’t really an accidental, flailing fall.

In all truthfulness, he didn’t fight it.

Icarus let himself fall to his death in an attempt to compensate for his hubris, to suffer the consequences of his mistakes, and it was both a cowardly attempt to escape the hellish burns caused by the boiling, melting wax and a selfless attempt to teach posterity to avoid ending up like him.

Jessica remembered the warmth of Morgan’s embrace when he ignored all protocol and took it upon himself to inform her of what had transpired in the past two months, regardless of the still-ongoing investigation. It didn’t do much to soothe the cold that had threatened to swallow her whole as she listened to the details in silent horror.

He had sat her down in her apartment, the one she had taken care of her ailing father in before he finally died and the one she couldn’t bear to move out of for all of the memories that had been formed inside—with her father on his good days, with her brother, with her nephew

“A week ago, we were invited by MPD to consult on a series of killings that happened over the course of a month. We had an eye on the situation since the second murder, and there were two more victims in the span of a week before we were finally called in,” he began quietly.

He had suspicions as to what was happening by the time the team was invited in on the case at the personal request of the MPD chief. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had come across this profile before, but there were simply too many puzzle pieces with matching edges for the connections to be brushed off as a coincidence.

“Based on the rate at which bodies were popping up, we anticipated another one within two days of us being called in, but the killer had gone suspiciously silent. We went through crime scenes, forensic reports, and things weren’t adding up.”

"It’s a local case and we’ve coordinated with MPD multiple times, they know the drill. I’d like to take a personal look as well, the brass has been all up in my business about this case given its proximity to the Hill."

That’s what he said to the team regarding him suddenly taking the initiative to go to the crime scenes despite his responsibilities—it had been a while since he last went out to crime scenes, often taking care of the office politics and coordinating the investigation back at whatever precinct or office the team had taken over.

“There were odd inconsistencies, missing pieces of evidence… There was evidence to show that the killer was an amateur, but ultimately the profile we ended up building was nowhere near as detailed as we hoped it could be—but it ultimately went a long way in helping us figure out what was really happening.”

Old case files going missing from his home office, growing interest in his job, sudden mood swings happening long after the worst of puberty, increased isolation, dropping grades…

Absentee fathers of Georgetown students being stabbed and shot to death as if the killer was unsure about what to do, an innocuous Jack-in-the-Box takeout bag sitting near the last three bodies…

Numerous signs, and yet it was the outwardly irrelevant piece of trash, perhaps a sign of the killer’s gluttony—a sick joke that only he could have recognized—that led him to put all of the horrifying pieces together. It’s been over a decade, and yet the memories of that damned day remained as clear as ever, dogging his every footstep. Nightmares in which the worst happens still often visit him in his sleep, sometimes even combined with the effects of Peter Lewis’s drug concoction, effects lingering even after all these years.

“Somehow, we completely missed the fact that he fit the victimology. Maybe it was because of his efforts to distract us… If we had put it together earlier we might have been able to figure it out much earlier, and maybe everything could have turned out differently.”

Only after intensive counseling and careful editing of his case reports was he allowed to continue in the bureau after Lewis and his targeted attacks, and yet he knew he was still being watched. It was with that thought in mind that he made a decision on how to handle the situation. Either way, his life would be irrevocably changed, and there would be casualties alongside him.

All he had to do was figure out how to minimize them.

“He never came in that morning; Reid was the first to notice the lights off in the office. We were headed towards his apartment complex as soon as we saw a cleared-out office with a retirement letter being the only thing left on the desk. All of the pictures, trinkets, law books, messy stacks of paperwork—gone.”

A retirement letter for formality's sake, one copy emailed directly to the director and one printed on his desk, to simplify some things for the bureau and to ensure that Jessica and his son get his pension should the worst happen. All of his decisions, meticulously recorded and justified, except for this last one to protect the team from the consequences of his choice. All of his notes, all of the claimed evidence, carefully stored in the file box he left next to the retirement letter back in the office. Favors accumulated since law school called in, contacts throughout the local justice system ready to step in and deal with the fallout.

All of this, an attempt to compensate for the mistakes he’s made over the years and his hubris, to protect the remnants of his family and the team.

Morgan couldn’t finish telling Jessica what had happened, voice somehow caught in his throat and refusing to cooperate. He simply shook his head, and she folded in on herself, the weight of the last week too much for her to hold up. Slowly, he pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back but not doing much more to soothe her.

This is a wound that wouldn’t ever heal.

The story ends like this:

Icarus burned, and Aaron Hotchner said nothing as the hand that held the gun against his temple shook with uncertainty. Everything he wanted to say was written—one might call him a coward, but writing had always been so much easier for him—and he knew that he would be the final casualty, that the killings would stop after tonight.

Icarus fell, and Aaron Hotchner was flung sideways, the unyielding bullet from his gun fired by his own son shredding the brain that thought had of everything but the emotional and psychological effects his final decision would have on his family and friends.

Daedalus grieved over his son’s crumpled form, and Jack Hotchner would be found with his father’s dead body in his shaking arms as he stared blankly at sights unseen to the team, who had come hours too late.

Blood stained the ground, seeping into the cracks and crevices of grasping fingers, and nothing would ever be the same.

[heli0s-writes]

IV. Symbiosis

Summary: “Since you’ve been caught—” Fury squints, “Canoodling With The Allegedly Injured James Barnes, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s already halfway finished with digging you up. Forgeries. Petty theft. Grand larceny. The damn rest of the kitchen sink. So, Ranger…” The way he says it is both lazy and threatening, completely on brand and irritatingly calm.

“Here’s my suggestion: get ahead of this thing before it knocks you on your ass.”

A/N: 4.8k words. I’m a liar who lies because after 4 months of overthinking and coming up with diddly squat, here is part 4 of Trinity Epoch sans smut. I’m sorry! I’ll double your pleasure next time. xx Thank you for sticking with me, I’m so sorry it’s taken so long.

Warnings: Language. References to canon-typical violence.

Trinity Epoch Masterpost

Bucky stays like that a while longer, just breathing.

Your fingers trace his hair—running through the strands, over the shell of his ear, then resting briefly on his cheek. All the ways you used to with Natasha when she’d break her own heart, or maybe ways you would have liked her to have done for you when you felt like you were dying a little bit.

You feel it now: a small death in the wake of last night’s simple touches. Your body and Steve’s body curled around each other sprung something immeasurable, as if the drift flowered then and ripened beneath your skins. You bit into it. You savored its taste. You could have lived on it alone.

Everything smears together like a child’s careless hand in a mess of paints until all the brights muddle dark. A shaky breath as you work yourself into calming, trying to find coherent words while your head remains a pot of sideways soup, at best.

Bucky shifts until he’s looking up at you, nose millimeters away. His irises are just a touch more gray, a sprinkle less green. You can see Steve in him, just as he can see Steve in you and then your eyes begin to prickle, Nat’s face undulating behind the burn.

You don’t really know what you want to say. Maybe apologize, run, beg for forgiveness, grab Bucky by the shoulders and shake him until he understands that you didn’t mean it— you didn’t mean to hurt him. That you love him. That he lives inside you, too.

His ghost from the drift— the aftermath phenomena of the neural bridge when pilots take on a bit of each other’s consciousness out of the cockpit and into the world with them. Take two people with a predisposition for the drift into the cockpit into each other’s brains and they exit heightened—sharper, better—imbued with each other’s strengths and knowledge. Mind-meld long enough, deep enough, and your core endures, but you become a different beast.

When Steve’s consciousness bled into yours, so did Bucky’s. If you walked away with half of Rogers, you also got a quarter of Barnes and it only compounded worse during Polidori’s drop. Resurrecting trauma, agitating itself, making a mess of your weary soul.

You relived his amputation last night, just as fresh as you relived Nat’s death. More visceral than the first trial run, you witnessed him—felt him—torn and hoarse, clutching his shoulder as he rocked helplessly inside Orion’s chest, frayed wires sparking across his cheek and landing in his own blood. His teeth gnashing together as he tried to hold on for Steve’s sake, steering his co-pilot’s panic back on course. Terrified and agonized, but he was hellbent on making it out.

Bucky who made you laugh. Bucky who took you to dinner. Who walked with you, gave you his jacket, listened to your rambling and crying, and kissed you because you reminded him of his co-pilot, or maybe of himself.  

How could you not love him, after all this?

Armageddon slows for nothing though, and before the first letter of his name can fall out recklessly from your mouth, three precise thumps jostles it back in.

Steve’s voice is muffled through heavy steel. “You in there?”

The door slides open with a tremulous croak but neither of you bother to separate. Nothing seems to matter now.

“Buck...” Steve looks from one raw face to the other, stepping forward and reaching out. He grasps Bucky’s hand. “We should talk—” he closes his mouth into a thin line, shoulders slumping heavily before letting go. “I’m sorry. Later. Shit’s hit the fan.”

-

The office is stagnant air full of questions but other than the squeak of the marshal leaning back in his chair, nobody makes a sound.

Fury untucks a finger from the crook of his elbow before pointing it between your eyes.

“Culpability.”

Across the room, you flinch in his crosshairs. Standing apart from them, you’re partially slack against one of many steel filing cabinets, using it to prop yourself up in case your knees might give out as vertigo descends.

It’s been a lot to take in. Everything— the night, the morning, emotionally, mentally, physically. The hull is a steel cage, and pilots are well armored, but you’re still hooked up to the robot enduring damage, taking hits at barely .0001 percent, but taking it all the same. You’re bruised up good beneath your clothes— Polidori’s claws leaving four tender imprints of a scratch to Orion’s right shoulder. Your shoulder. Steve’s shoulder.

To your right, he shifts. A tiny hint of pain streaks over his expression before it falls serene again, fixed on Fury.

“Since you’ve been caught—” the marshal squints, “Canoodling With The Allegedly Injured James Barnes, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s already halfway finished with digging you up. Forgeries, petty theft, grand larceny, the damn rest of the kitchen sink. So, Ranger…” The way he says it is both lazy and threatening, completely on brand and irritatingly calm.

“Here’s my suggestion: get ahead of this thing before it knocks you on your ass.”

This thing, being any story a 13-year old kid with two thumbs and a twitter account can spin between now and when you let Pepper Potts spin it for you first. There’s not a lot imagination can’t conjure to fill in the blank pixelated space between Bucky standing on the curb and you right behind him wearing his cap and jacket. Not to mention that once speculation goes live, it starts sprouting all sorts of appendages with minds of their own, and no matter how diligently you might cut one off, two would only sprout in its place.

The marshal stands up and takes heavy steps before turning the corner of his desk, absently tapping a pile of folders together like they’re not already in a perfect column. He slips a manila folder out from the stack and it becomes obvious that his suggestion is just buildup to some other type of impetus.

When you open the file up under his sharp gaze, you feel the blood drain from your face and possibly from your entire body.

The bullet he aimed between your eyes hits home. Cue your brains blowing out slow. Impetus met.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky appears over your shoulder, staring at the same grainy photocopied document. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I make a lot of jokes?” Fury leans forward, pointer curving over the top edge, tapping emphatically one, two, three times, even waving it back and forth in front of your unseeing eyes. “I’ve got a good contact inside the PPDC who risked a lot to get this out. They’re just plans for now, dogeared behind other pages, but don’t doubt the Corps’ cowardice for a second. The second this program looks like it might not hold up, they’ll turn their efforts there.”

You’re gone. Trapped between the lines, vehemently scanning the page, reading the same words over and over until they no longer make sense. But it’s not like they made any sense in the first place.

ANTI-KAIJU WALL: CONSTRUCTION AGENDA. SPRING 2020.

The conception of a perimeter stretching around the Pan Pacific—North and Central America, East and South Asia to isolate emerging Kaiju. It’s a fetal skeleton at most, the roughest of outlines for a plan, and truthfully, it’s no plan at all.

It’s shameful. It’s shit.

The so-called Wall of Life implies the portending death of the Program—of all Shatterdomes and Jaegers. It implies no support, no funding, and no repairs. No Kodiak. No juniors. No future.

Back and forth, you’re still desperately inspecting as if the words might shift into a new message, maybe one that didn’t spell out certain extinction, but despair is rippling across your face. Bi Fang and Polidori had wings, and they were only Category II. Bi Fang massacred one of the best pilots you’ve ever known—and it was only a Category II. Any higher and they’d blow through that wall like a ribbon of wet toilet paper.

Hysteria creeps up at the mere thought of it, fear stubbornly lodging itself in your throat. Nuclear-powered automata—the only proven defense against the terror of massive alien attacks are being dismantled in favor of steel rods and cinderblocks. They might as well build it out of Legos.

Anti-Kaiju Wall. A string of ants meeting a boot.

You’re panting softly, tongue swollen in your mouth, shaking with equal parts terror and rage, on the verge of breaking into inappropriate laughter and yelling.

“What—what do they expect?” You croak, “The breach opens, the fucking thing comes out, sees a fence, and what—they think it’s—going to crawl back in…?”

“Hey, calm down,” Bucky curls his fingers around your elbow. His hand and its black plates are peering at you, purring, dull gold bands threading at the knuckles. For a second, the prosthetic disappears. For a second, he’s blood red again.

“Hey!” Bucky grips tightly when you sway. “I’m fine! Don’t—don’t.” Steve’s jaw is set firmly on your other side, arms crossed so severely his biceps bulge with the strain.

“Nick,” He’s abruptly brusque as he eases the file from your grip. “Give us a minute.”

“You’re in my office.” But the marshal’s words hold no bite. He’s already won; he knows. Cornered again, he’s got you same as before in Red Cloud. 

You get the gist: play out your redemption arc and come clean with your record. Win over the public, hoard all the additional support and funding you can because you’ll need every goddamn cent of it when the PPDC rips it away. The gossip. The photos. The headlines. It’s the perfect opportunity for a few hundred million when the media is putting a magnifying glass on your presence in Hong Kong.

Duty. Duty. Duty.

You’re just one small part of this colossal puzzle—a negligible smear of guts across the battlefield trying to keep the rest of the pieces together while the PPDC sits in their panic rooms throttling the entire fucking thing.

Fury steps to the cabinet and slides the file back in its place, keeping the illusion of it being just another unremarkable envelope in a row of hundreds of others. The metal drawer shuts with a clang, housing the most damning piece of information you’ve ever seen. His tact aside, you know he would never show you his hand like this if it wasn’t completely necessary—or pertinent.

Steve was right, you understand now.

The world owes you. And it owns you.

-

The next six—seven?—hours scatter like pulled teeth with your head spinning like a top the entire way. Pepper had been outside the door for the conversation, waiting on standby to whisk you off for princess lessons. Having already (and correctly) predicted your compliance, Fury scheduled an interview for precisely at nine. Then you were off, towed along by Miss Potts and her hasty strut.  

You try to find perspective, reminding yourself that you’ve successfully gone toe-to-toe with the Empire State Building with fifteen rows of teeth seven fucking times and come out on the other side alive and if not in one whole piece, then at least 2-3 relatively serviceable pieces. You’re functional. A little damaged, but fine enough. But there’s also the fact that you’d just hopped out of Orion not even 24 hours ago coupled with how you’re suddenly in the middle of something that feels less like a confused love triangle and more like divine providence at the end of the world.

Fuck. No time to think about it now. The human brain is not programmed to multitask, and you’re hanging on by a mere thread. You prioritize making it through the night just as alive as you can make it out of a drop. Just a couple of hours and you can rest. Just a couple more.

After what felt like an eternity and a half of simulating Q&A, practicing your posture, smiling into a mirror, and one horrible limo ride where you stared dead-eyed out the window—Steve and Bucky’s steely gazes after you—the building finally comes into view.  

Hair. Makeup. Wardrobe. You wear pants. You smile for the camera. You don’t stand in the middle of the group photo.

8:55 and time halts to a near stop. You can hear your heart in your throat, or in your skull. Your eyes feel switched from their sockets, or stomach rotated 30 degrees. Someone fixes your mic wire, your blouse collar, asking you to turn just a little over there. Three cameras are pointed to capture every angle, punitive red dots angry and glaring.

A live broadcast was agreed upon to ensure the least amount of potential edits and skews, as well as the charmingly quaint idea that it’s unscripted. The rub, therein, lies upon the burden of poise and a flawless performance. You rehearsed lines until your jaw felt like it was coming unhinged. Then you did it again. 

Everything requires precision, and you keep that in mind with your hand on the glass of Dom Perignon being constantly refilled. An amicable gesture by the hosts, but their intentions are cunning: loose lips sink ships, and they’re betting on yours to sink the S.S. Orion Bravo.

Out of view, the translator sits with her legs crossed, listening to the questions before turning the words over in English.

You take a sip of champagne and it fires off like a gunshot—Cantonese and English in rapid-fire verses.

<2017 was a fateful year for both the Jaeger Program and the world. Beloved pilot Natasha Romanoff sacrificed her life to protect Alaska’s coast in a final battle against Category 2 Bi Fang. Memorials dedicated to Romanoff’s efforts appeared across every nation to lament her death and celebrate her heroism. Yet, somehow, no one seemed to be asking the million-dollar question: Where is her co-pilot?>

<Two days ago, pictures were taken in Hong Kong of James Barnes and a mysterious woman. Our sources here at TVB have worked tirelessly to uncover her identity.>

<Today we have the pleasure of introducing her to everyone tuning in. This is the first time you’ve ever been in the public eye, and astonishingly, next to two of the best pilots in the Program. There are so many questions, but first, the whole world wants to know…. why keep it secret?>

The host’s open hand urges your reply.

The lights seem to turn up even brighter. Your back starts sweating. The room is about to collapse. In short, naturally­­—infuriatingly—you choke.

Seven hours of droning like a broken wind up toy, already knowing how to answer this question by heart, prepping yourself for the interrogation, the relentless demand to publicize your grief, to placate the people about your relationship with their heroes—and, you choke.

Bucky’s chin tilts microscopically in the corner of your line of vision. You’re fine, he’s saying, you got it. He’s strangely calm, even pleased, as you stutter involuntarily. Like he’s the first to remember an inside joke you’d long forgotten, his grin widens the longer you look at him. Steve turns next. Focus. Don’t fight the drift. The drift is silence.

And suddenly, your shoulders ease. The static in your exhausted brain slides out of your ears.

You sit up tall. You smile. It doesn’t quite feel like your smile, but, it’s a good one. You know this smile; it’s Steve’s smile. Like a seamless assembly, you fall into rhythm.

The white of his teeth slip out from between Steve’s lips. He notices too.

You calmly recite the introductory speech you’d been practicing for the last two hours, feeling out your new voice, borrowing from his bearing—deeper, smoother, certain. The major points get run through: your record and own personality traits keeping you from the spotlight, admitting genuinely that you’re pretty damn uncomfortable now, so they’ll have to forgive you for any slip ups. It goes over well, as Pepper predicted; “candid” blunders made Rangers human—made them likable.

When the subject of Anchorage rolls back around, you can practically feel Steve’s jaw bulging preemptively. You graze his foot with yours as a warning to back off.

<It’s remarkable that you were able to bring the Jaeger back to shore, there has been only one pilot who was capable of that—>

“I’m thankful to have had Stacker Pentecost as my mentor. I owe so much of my resilience to him. It was difficult, but simply put, I had no other choice. I feel so lucky to have survived it.”

<Natasha Romanoff-->

“She was one of a kind.”

<Was it hard to—>

“Yes.”

The host clears his throat, visibly awkward that you’re being so terse, but taking the hint until  Bucky turns into the spotlight, that divorced happiness he’s so skilled at beaming into the lenses. 

Steve easily picks it up, steering the conversation where he wants it to go. He’s disarmingly sincere as he relays the process of Bucky’s injury, replacement, apprehension, and finally success

His bright blue eyes flicker secret messages and you decipher them all.

“The connection was like—"

There’s a bell chiming in your ears. Bright, crisp chirps of it, cutting through laughter and bickering. You taste summer air in your throat, Bucky’s hair flying in the wind. “Riding a bike…”

“Exactly. New bike, same motions, and it worked. It was great. We learned things about each other. Some good, some bad—”

Crosshatched pencil lines of their shared apartment. Smudges of charcoal in a sketchbook. “He’s an unbelievable artist, but—”

“No— don’t say it!”

Bucky smothering a small kitchen fire. Steve throwing a damp rag on him in a frantic attempt to assist. Your voice is bubbling out gleefully. “—an awful cook!”

“It’s true,” Bucky smugly chimes in. “The boy can’t boil water. Breakfast eggs come with shells every time.” You can taste the grit between your molars—crushed grains inside an overdone omelet, Bucky spitting out spinach and feta cheese.

“Oh my god,” you sputter into a sip of champagne. “It’s so bad.”

“Do you see what I have to deal with? Two people knowing my secrets. Two.”

<Fantastic! Already we can see a great friendship here—>

It seems congratulatory, but there’s determination to drive into scandalous territory, poking at any rumor to lance and leak. A sly smile crosses his face as his assistant shows photos of you and Bucky in the city, but the lurid suggestion only gets shrugged off. “We’d gone out for dinner. It was the first time I’d left the Shatterdome after Seigehook and I needed moral support.”

<The jacket tells a different story.>

“I’d give you my jacket if you looked cold.”

<Steve, Ophelia isn’t concerned that your new co-pilot is a woman?>

“No, absolutely not. ‘Lia’s the first person to support Orion—and the loudest. I don’t know what I’d do without her. You don’t have her behind the curtain, too, do you?”

<Well, what about personal memories? Won’t you know everything about each other…? Private things?>

“Sure, but what pair of pilots don’t? You got twins and siblings, not just married couples. Look, here’s the thing: the neural bridge doesn’t take you to a filing cabinet. It’s not open like that. It’s more like—somebody help me—” Bucky snaps his fingers your way, “—what’d you call it the other day?”

You didn’t, but you say, “A dream?”

“Right, a dream. If you think about it, you can pull on it, but if it’s not in the forefront of your mind. It’s a non-issue.”

“We’re all adults here,” Steve confirms.

<Do you plan for James to return to the cockpit? Is that the goal? James, how do you feel about all of this, taken away from your own Jaeger?>

Steve’s palm faces outward as if keeping the host at bay— or, you think, keeping himself at bay.  “Hold on. This isn’t about replacement. Nobody is framing it like a nail in the coffin—we’re in the interim of a period of time, readjusting. Short of death, nothing is going to take him away.”

Sunlight. Recruitment. Ice baths. Training until they had to carry each other to bed. Your eyes flutter, head pilfering through the memories like instinct.

“James is still Orion’s co-pilot.” You agree. Apprehension. Dread. Terror. Confidence in each other even when they didn’t believe in themselves. They were together. Nothing else mattered. “Steve’s co-pilot.”

The tight look on his face is temporarily wiped as he beams proudly, “He’s my Bucky. Always has been, always will be.” He claps Bucky on the back twice and each thump’s echo bounces its way into your chest.

Bucky bristles and sputters, but a healthy pink dusts its way across his cheeks, “Don’t embarrass me, Rogers.”

“Are you blushing?” You tease, elated.

“Don’t you start, either.”

<Well… this is very wonderful. Is there a possibility we’ll be seeing a triple-piloted machine? The Tang triplets have been in talks for a new model.>

Steve shakes his head. “We haven’t discussed it yet. Nothing’s off the table, by any means. Just not priority at the moment.”

<What is priority at the moment?>

“Normalcy, as much as we can get in the middle of all this.” Bucky holds out his hand, closing it into a fist, letting the camera zoom in. “We’re… still working through all the kinks, balancing the personal and global.” 

He flexes his fingers, letting the microphones pick up the drone of machinery, but his meaning is another secret. Clicking Morse codes of well-oiled obsidian plates purring two names. You’ve stopped listening to everything but the echo incandescent in your heart.

You down your glass.

-

Champagne tipsy, you try not to stagger through the lobby. The doorman nods toward the limousine parked faithfully by the curb.

The barrage of questions slowed after it became apparent that there would be no sensationalist headline. There was attention to Bucky’s arm, his handsome face, of course, before the banter quickly devolved into entertaining frivolous sidebar queries. Five flutes bubbled down your throat and by the end of it, you no longer wanted to grab camera one and shake the shit out of it, anger whittled down to a dull hum of annoyance.

Thirty million stupid dollars for inane reels of:

What’s in your purse? What do you eat? How do you stay feminine in a Shatterdome full of testosterone—have you tried any K-beauty skincare routines? Do you have anyone special in your life?

Bucky went in, then, leaning forward until he was nearly rocking off and leveled his glare. You know she’s on the other side of the same robot, buckled up into a ninety-pound rig steering two-hundred tons of—

It took a miracle (see: Steve’s firm hand discreetly on the back of Bucky’s neck and Pepper drawing a sharp line across her throat) to effectively halt the derailing train.

“I can’t believe,” Bucky grouses now, opening the door and waving the driver back to the front. “Those goddamn questions.”  

“Does wiping my sweaty face with my even sweatier shirt count as skincare? What’s the K stand for?”

Bucky smacks the back of your head with one hand, other clumsily yanking the door open with the other. “For Korean—have you been living under a rock? Just—get in the fuckin’ car.”

You slap him back. “Quit it, you invalid.”

“Invalid? I’ll show you a fuckin’—Steve, did you hear—”

“Both of you, get in the car.”

And you shriek, scrambling in and yanking Bucky along by the scruff of his jacket. Mischief courses beneath your skin, encouraged by clever alcohol, now fully buzzed its way to every extremity.

Still giggling and leaning into the thrill of it, you slump over the smooth plastic molding of the door and press your face against the tinted window. It’s a cool reprieve on your warmed cheek, frosting when your temperature meet the glass. Bucky’s easy Cantonese, albeit slurred, is requesting a ride back to base. His hand has found its way into yours, fingers laced large and warm, clasping tight before he lets go.

“Haven’t had a drink—oh--” you murmur, catching yourself as the wheels shift.

“Since Red Cloud.”

“Outta my head, Rogers.”

“Says the person who kept finishing my sentences during that interview.”

“It’s the champagne! It makes me—“

“Stupid?”

“You’re an ass, Barnes.” But you’re laughing at him, at the way he’s smirking— cheeks gone ruddy. Both of them, open beside each other, heads inclined intuitively together. It makes you ache to see—to experience again after disruption—Rogers and Barnes. Barnes and Rogers. Perfectly fitted.

The partition slides up. The sunroof tugs open with a whistling draft.

Hong Kong’s lights are vivid—too much to properly see the extent of space’s beauty, but there are a few twinkles you’re able to make out in the moonless night as light poles and skyscraper tips whiz overhead. They’re brighter than most, simple to spot patterns in the dark.

“Orion’s out tonight,” you mutter, moving to catch the line of its belt, “Look. Beneath his feet is Lepus, the hare, pursued for all time.” From across, Steve follows, also looking to find their hero as your hair rustles wildly, making a hurricane against your ear.

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” Bucky scolds. He’s annoyed and comfortable on leather, ankle crossed over opposite knee. “You’re not being chased by anything. Besides, if you were a constellation, you’d probably be the soup ladle.”

You laugh. He’s always playing the part of a stoic so well. “Hey, I’ll have you know the Little Dipper’s got the north star in it. That soup ladle’s gonna be the thing that gets you home when you’re lost.”

The tone shifts—time dragging its pace as you look at them in wonder. The city’s overripe heaviness of the blows through, making goosebumps on heated skin.

“Buck,” Steve says, and Bucky slips his jacket from his shoulders to slide over yours. He tugs the lapels down like he’s trying to keep you on earth and your hands clasp on his wrists for a second before you let go. They’re both sitting up now, watching your bleary gaze unfocus.

Steve and Bucky oscillate in front of your eyes, their lines blurring until it doesn’t really matter who you’re looking at—until they become one. So easy, like this, just them like two sides of the same coin, belonging so seamlessly to each other.

“Sorry,” you blurt in shame, “I feel like I fucked it up. Ruined a thing that wasn’t mine to ruin.”

“Think you put it together,” Steve responds quietly, and the simplicity of his statement throws you off. “We found our way.”

“Soup ladle,” Bucky jokes.

“But, aren’t we just trading one war for another? World peace only made it because of monsters.” Unspoken questions hidden inside large-scale metaphors— symbiosis could only be achieved under the lies of other relationships. Whatever this would be, it wouldn’t be accepted. Steve still retains his supermodel girlfriend and you and Bucky dutifully fall in line for your own packaged little PR lies.

He shrugs. “I’m fine with losing a few battles in this war, but Orion’s got a good track record, doesn’t it, Buck?”

“Twelve— thirteen kills, sweetheart.” Bucky’s grin is lopsided. “Don’t forget you made that happen.”

“Thirteen’s an unlucky number.”

“Feels lucky to me.” Steve’s hand wraps around your wrist, thumb resting on your pulse. He taps your skin, looking genuinely apologetic. “Listen, all I can do is ask— and I’m not good at asking for things. I just want to make them happen.” A quick glance at the watch under his cuffs and he tugs at your arm like a lost child, “So, before we get back… will you come here?”

As he said, he’s not really asking. More like reaching his will out to you, finding you when you’re caught in the undertow and pulling you back to safety. To them. Okay. Okay.

Your footing slips, but they take your hands and turn you carefully, letting you settle in between. Bucky hums a low sound, fingers curling around your waist. Steve does the same to the opposite side and you feel both torn apart and held together by them.

Steve nuzzles your neck, hot on your skin.

“She was wrong,” he whispers, barely audible over the sound of your rising breath, “You know that? She was wrong, and I was wrong. I thought it couldn’t happen—thought I had other priorities, other things to manage and settle and save and... I lost sight of what matters most. But I’m gonna really fix it this time—I’m gonna do it right by you.” 

He looks to Bucky, pained and relieved, “Both of you, I promise.” He takes Bucky’s hand in his own and holds it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, his palm, saying softly, “I love you, Buck. I’m sorry you waited so long.”

“Hey stupid,” Bucky says shakily when your chin starts to quiver at the sight of them. He’s sniffling and swallowing his syllables, unable to stop himself from staring at Steve’s face in his hand, how Steve kisses the blue pulse in his wrist. “Ain’t you—too pretty to cry?”

The rocking of the car flattens out as Steve gently presses his lips to yours, letting the trail of salt bursting down your cheek into his mouth. He moves to the line of your jaw, promising,

It’s okay. I got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you anymore.

They kiss you and the world turns itself right.

They kiss you and then they kiss each other. Again and again and again.

[deathonyourtongue]

Sanguine Nocturnus | 1

Summary: Even after 2000 years, the world can still surprise you. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 2K Warnings: It’s a vampire fic. Death. Blood. Gore. Sex. Horror. Not for the kiddies or the squeamish. I mean it. A/N : I know I said I’d wait. But y’all have been clamoring...

Death has a way of manipulating time. Moments meant to go slowly end in a blink, while junctures that ought to speed past, linger like dew on the vine...

Carla Montanari stared at her mother’s corpse, waiting for her to move. Waiting for the only family she’d ever had to open her eyes and say it was all a joke. Her mother had always had a cutting sense of humor; no topic was off-limits, and as she aged, death was a favored punchline. Now, it seemed, her mother had pulled off the ultimate prank, though Carla failed to see the humor in it.

The mortician had done an excellent job all things considered, but Carla could still pick out the differences between the body that lay at the altar of Saint Vincent’s and the one she had grown up with. A jaw that had been given too much lift, makeup that was a shade or two darker than what her mother normally wore, wrinkles that had disappeared when her face had been sewn back together. She’d been told she was lucky to get an open-casket service at all, given how much trauma her mother had suffered, as if it were some sort of consolation prize.

Looking behind her, Carla did a headcount of those in attendance, smiling softly when she saw that her mother’s bingo group were all in attendance, each woman donning their Sunday best in order to pay their respects. What her mother lacked in family, she’d more than made up for in friends who were all cut from the same cloth. Good, salt-of-the-earth people. Carla had always envied how easily her mother made friends, how she could chat up anyone, no matter how different their background and find something in common. It was a skill she hadn’t passed down, leaving her daughter to carve out a small handful of friends who were more acquaintances than anything else. 

Crossing herself, Carla took a deep breath, looked down at her mother once more, and finally leaned down to kiss the cold, clammy skin of her forehead, doing her best to ignore the faint waft of formaldehyde that filled the casket. A solitary white rose tucked beneath her mother’s hands was Carla’s final act before turning away. 

Time blinked, and she found herself seated across from her mother’s lawyer, a slab of mahogany separating them, the coffee she’d been offered growing cold as the AC hit it from overhead.

“I suppose we can do away with formality, since it’s just you,” the older man said, his smile tight and distant. Carla nodded, feeling as though the man wanted to be done so he could attend to other, more important, matters. 

“Your mother left all her possessions and accounts to you, no surprise there. She gifted her friends each an item from her apparently extensive purse collection, so we’ll facilitate that for you. The accounts are all in order, and what isn’t used to pay off her final bills, will be transferred to your account by the end of the month. Lastly, there’s the matter of the inheritance. This may be news to you, but your grandmother set up an inheritance in your name when you were born. Initially, it was meant to pay for college, but when you got your full ride, your mother decided to keep it going until her passing. Her hope was to give you a nice nest egg for retirement, or your first house...something to that effect.” 

Carla looked down at the document, counting and recounting the total in disbelief. Her mother had always been terrible at keeping secrets, having given away things to her friends that had mortified Carla when she was younger. 

Guess you were better at it than I thought.

Inhaling deeply, Carla sat back in her chair, hoping the meeting was over. The quicker she could get out into the fresh air, the better off she’d be. 

“There’s one more thing,” her mother’s lawyer said, keeping Carla rooted to her seat even as the muscles in her legs twitched in readiness to stand up. “Your mother wanted to ensure you were aware of the fact that you have legal claim to Italian citizenship, if you should ever choose to take it. They call it Jure Sanguinis; Right of Blood. The process can be expedited, given that you’re only second generation American. Sign here and we can get it in motion for you.” 

Carla signed blindly, eyes unblinking as she tried to process the information. Her mother had always been a planner, but had never once mentioned so much as a will to Carla. Now, seeing everything packaged up so neatly, her mind spun wildly.

“Think you know a person…” She muttered mostly to herself, the lawyer giving her another one of his performative smiles, his eyes going to his watch for what must have been the tenth time in as many minutes. 

Leaving the office with a folder and the untouched coffee, Carla couldn’t help but feel time begin to crawl, reinforcing the feelings of numbness and solitude that would haunt her for weeks to come.

Working steps from Wall Street had its perks. Tips were usually far more generous than in other parts of town, fights were rare, and drunk girls crying over their shitty boyfriends were nonexistent. None of that made it any easier, however. Frat boys turned into day traders, socialites grew even more entitled as their brunches turned into botox appointments, and there was never a shortage of patronizing stares for those that had to actually work for a living. For Carla, navigating the catcalls, one-liners, and straight-up sexual misconduct was easy enough; it was the entitlement that never failed to get under her skin. 

“Um, hello? Waitress? This is wrong. I asked for a Negroni.” Looking up, Carla swept her long black hair over her shoulder as she processed the words that were spoken. Having decided to keep living life as though things hadn’t irrevocably changed, Carla was doing her best to ignore the stress that had been slowly creeping higher and higher each day. Busy nights at the bar were proving the worst, with Carla coming through the door at the end of her shift ready to rant about the night to her mother, only to find the place pin-drop silent and utterly empty. 

Looking down at the drink, Carla gazed back up at the woman with the blond, news anchor hair and cocked her head to the side in confusion. 

“That is a Negroni.” 

“Uh,” the woman snorted in disbelief, “no it’s not. Remake it, and do it right this time.” 

“This is a Negroni. One part gin, sweet vermouth, and Campari each, with a peel of lemon.” The woman laughed condescendingly and Carla could feel her patience start to disappear. 

“No, a Negroni, if you knew anything about bartending--which you clearly don’t--is made with Rye and dry vermouth.”

“Lady, I make at least ten of these a night. I work six nights a week. You’re the first, and only, person to ever tell me it’s wrong. You’re thinking of an Old Pal, and I’d be more than happy to make that for you, but this? This is a Negroni, which is what you asked for.”

“Fine, we’ll see about that.” The woman huffed, her manicured hand slicing through the air in a dismissive motion. 

“That’ll be $10.99.”

“Absolutely NOT! I’m not paying for your mistake. Make it again, make it right, and make it now!” The woman crowed, her hair imobile as she shook her head, looking for all the world like Carla had slapped her.

“It’s a different drink. You paid for a Negroni, you got a Negroni. You want an Old Pal, you pay for an Old Pal.” Carla replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for the woman to make up her mind. 

The alcohol burned Carla’s eyes and she stumbled back in shock, moving towards the large sink she knew was behind her on pure instinct. Washing her face to get as much of the cocktail off as she could, she knew she’d reached her breaking point. 

Any other time and she’d have brushed it off, had security kick the woman out and gone about her night. Now? She’d had enough. Moving slowly to the back, Carla took off her apron, hung it up next to her coworkers’ and slipped out the back door. 

Nearly sprinting the whole way home, it was only as she stepped through the door of her apartment that the tears came unbidden. Sliding down the wall, Carla cried for the first time since her mother’s passing. 

The next morning, after calling in her notice, Carla allowed herself a day to simply be. To scream, to cry, to let out all the emotions that had befallen her since answering the phone that fateful night and hearing that her mother had died in such a vicious and preventable way. She let rage fill every vein as she thought about how the person who hit her hadn’t even bothered to stay at the scene. She lamented every missed moment, every fight, every what-if. Finally, she curled up in her mother’s robe, and cried herself to sleep.

Knowing she couldn’t handle another day at a bar like the one on Wall Street, catering to bratty adults who’d never been told no a day in their lives, Carla began leaning more and more towards escaping it all. Her now-empty apartment, her routine assortment of familiar faces (none of whom had even bothered to call and offer condolences), and more than anything, the city itself; all of it seemed worthless and foreign without her mother’s smiling face. As she sat and scrolled through picture after picture on her phone, the promise of a new life in Italy seemed more feasible, and more and more necessary.

On day three, after a day spent mostly in bed, dreaming about the possibilities of what life could bring now that she was committed to leaving, Carla put in a call to the lawyer, vaguely remembering the document she’d signed. There was nothing but relief when she was told they were simply waiting for a few more documents to finalize it all. 

With the foundation for her new life in place, Carla began to flesh out the bones, focusing her research on where to live, and who was hiring. Though the inheritance was enough to live comfortably for several years, Carla didn’t want to squander it. Moreover, she still wanted to work and feel useful in some way; early retirement could wait.

While she was spoilt for choice when it came to renting, a job was harder to come by. Carla started her search with the lofty goal of finding something where she could put her history degree to good use; a research assistant, a curator, hell, a tour guide. When it became clear that her lack of experience was a hurdle she wouldn’t be able to cross so easily, Carla reluctantly turned to what she knew. 

Weeks went by like thick molasses as she looked at bar after bar, finding that they either weren’t hiring, or looked like the kind of place people went into and never came out of. Her options were narrow to start with, since Carla had her heart set on Rome, the need to entrench herself in one of the world’s oldest cities, one she couldn’t possibly ignore. With each day that passed, she felt her dream beginning to slip away. Carla was nothing if not tenacious, one of the few traits she’d shared with her mother, and despite feeling discouraged at her prospects, she kept looking.

Finally, as the clock nearly ran out on her deadline to provide proof of employment, Carla found the perfect spot. Though the bar catered to a higher-end clientele, gone were the stockbrokers and lawyers, and in their place, a younger, cooler set. Attracted to the dark, almost feral, atmosphere the bar promised in its advertising, Carla applied, crossing her fingers in the hopes that they’d call. 

She was still browsing the site when her phone rang and the owner greeted her in a thick, Italian accent. Breezing through the interview questions, Carla’s eyes roved over the pictures of all the beautiful people that frequented the night spot, pulled in by how effortlessly cool each of them looked. With the promise to call her by the end of the week to confirm the position, the owner ended the call, and it was all Carla could do not to jump for joy. 

Flopping back on the bed, she couldn’t help but let herself feel true happiness, happiness which she’d unconsciously been denying herself while she mourned her mother’s death. Though she’d been dealt a life-changing blow, Carla felt as though, slowly but surely, time was going back to its usual pace, and her life was taking a turn for the better. 

With a smile from ear to ear, she sat back up and emailed the lawyer, confirming she’d gotten a job, an apartment, and a plane ticket to Rome. As the message zipped away and the window closed, Carla found her eyes drawn back to the website, and her new place of employment. 

Romulus

[thewritewolf]

After the End Chapter 25: Study

First | Previous | Next | Last

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“So is this everything you’ve got from daddio?”

Adrien looked at the mountain of paperwork, spread across folders and binders and ledgers, stacked precariously in his father’s old office, then looked back at his best friend with disbelief.

“Did you want more to go through?”

“Chill, bro. Just tryin’ to get the lay of the land, ya know?”

Alya put a hand on both of their shoulders. “Don’t worry, this is more than enough to work with. Let’s just start going through all this with an eye for detail and see where it takes us.”

“I just don’t know what we’re hoping to find.” Adrien let out an exhausted sigh as he pulled up a seat and grabbed a stack at random. “I’ve been pouring over this stuff for months now. What else could there be to find?”

“Adrien, my chaton, I think the world of you, but you don’t have a deceitful bone in your body.” Marinette took up a spot near him and took a ledger. “Besides, you haven’t exactly been in the best mindset while you’ve been on your own.”

“Having a bunch of extra eyes lookin’ at this stuff is only gonna do us some good. I’d bet my hat on it, bro.”

“I’m hoping you’re right.” Adrien’s eyes went distant for a moment as he frowned at a paper in front of him. “Otherwise, I don’t know how we’re going to tackle the Gentlemen.”

The next hour was spent with each of them pouring over documents from the elder Agreste, from anywhere between fourteen years ago and a month before the battle that ended his life. Despite his fears that it would be another tedious slog like it had been the first time, the off and on conversation with his friends kept things lively. At least, as lively as they could be while they were digging through his dead dad’s stuff.

With Marinette sitting so close to him, he was the first one to realize that something was up. He noticed that she was flipped back and forth between two pages, her nose crinkling in the way that he’d long come to associate with intense focus while she was in the mask.

He craned his neck to look at what she was, but it just looked like some internal memo from a couple years ago. There were vague memories of him looking through it weeks ago but it was just another dreary Agreste communication.

“Something up, m’lady?”

She held up one finger without looking up. By this point the others had started paying attention to her. All three of them waited for her to finish whatever it was she was doing. After a few minutes her eyes widened and she gasped.

“That’s it!” Her eyes locked onto his. “There’s some kind of message hidden here!”

“Wait, are you sure?” Adrien leaned over her shoulder but didn’t see anything out the ordinary.

“Yes!” Marinette pointed out a couple words in the middle of the memo. “There are a couple letters that have been randomly capitalized here.”

“Well, Nathalie was usually pretty overworked so I’m not too-”

“But its not just that! There is a lot more paragraphs than what a tiny memo like this would really need. And if you pull out all the capital letters from each paragraph…”

She sketched some notes on the side. Spaced out like she said and with the letters in place, they almost looked like a small sentence. A sentence with completely jumbled up words, but still.

“Okay…” Adrien felt a spark of excitement. He hadn’t expected to find something so quickly. “What do we do now then? It doesn’t make any sense like it is right now.”

“That’s where we come in.” Alya took the paper from Marinette’s hand. “Nino, M - keep digging through those memos. Adrien, find as many of those as you can to pass to them.” Alya pulled out her phone and began typing furiously. “And can you give me any important words that your father might have used as a cipher?”

After another hour of frantic work, they’d compiled a few whole papers of transcribed secret messages. They’d even pinned down that the only ones with messages were memos on the Wednesdays of each week, for whatever reason. And eventually Alya cracked the code - naturally, the magic word had been ‘Emily.’

Working as a team, they managed to get an entire one sided conversation decoded.

“Any idea where the other half could be?” Adrien said as they finished up.

Alya shrugged. “No clue. But these were internal memos, right?”

“Yeah…”

“So the Gentlemen had to have at least one person on the inside of the company.” Alya frowned and tapped at her chin.

“I’d bet that he also had them respond from the inside then too.”

Nino gave him a confused look. “What makes you say that, bro?”

“He was a control freak. There was no way he’d let it go out into something he couldn’t control, like the newspaper.”

Alya frowned in thought. “You might be onto something there, but we don’t know for sure right. We’ll have to make do with what we have right now.” She looked over at Marinette, who was pouring over the notes that they had made. “So… what’s it all worth, M? Was it worth two hours of our time?”

Marinette nodded slowly and looked up at them with her lips pursed into a thin, pale line. “This was without a doubt worth the effort to get it.”

“Well don’t keep us in suspense, girl! Spill the beans!”

“They’ve been working on this for a while, but basically?” Marinette took a deep breath. “They’ve got pieces of the old Guardian monastery and are using that to turn off kwami powers.”

They exchanged looks with each other.

“You’re… gonna have to explain that to us, girl.”

Marinette rubbed her temples. “Okay, so the Guardians are responsible for taking care of the miraculous, right?”

“Yeah…” Adrien glanced at the other two, who were just nodding along.

“Well, Hawkmoth wasn’t the first time a chosen has gone rogue. So they made their main base out of stuff that was pretty resistant to the powers of the miraculous. Or, well, they enchanted their stained glass and masonry to be that way.” She looked at Adrien. “If you tried to Cataclysm their building at the height of their power, it would have absolutely no effect.”

“But didn’t they get wiped out by an amok?”

“Yes - the powers of an amok, not the miraculous itself.”

“Seems like a pretty big flaw,” Alya said, crossing her arms.

“To be fair to them, those powers are both the hardest to account for, and have the miraculous holders easiest to take out in a one on one fight. After all, the butterfly and peacock miraculous don’t help much in a direct battle - they’re only good for attacks from a distance.”

“So - what?” Nino rubbed his temples. “They nicked some old rocks and that makes ‘em supes powerful?”

“Something like that.”

“Wait.” Adrien held up a hand. “Didn’t the old monastery get restored by the Ladybug cure years ago? Wouldn’t the monastery have resisted that?”

“Apparently the enchantments wore off a lot, and they had to spend years restoring them.” Marinette smiled. “But you’re right - the monastery is back. Which means they won’t be able to get more pieces of it, at least not without fighting a bunch of mystical warrior monks who know this stuff way better than they do.”

“But where does that leave us now?” Alya asked, elbows on her legs as she leaned forward.

“It means two things.” Marinette held up one finger. “First, it means that we know what these… let’s call them lodestones will look like. Old masonry, maybe something glass or jewel-like.”

Adrien’s eyes flew open. “Like that egg the Gentlemen dropped to get out of the alley!”

“Exactly! And two,” she held up a second finger. “Once their current stock is gone, they have no way of getting more. I’m also going to bet that they won’t be keeping all their lodestones in one place - between each one being a huge source of protection, from what I understand of Guardian magic, having them charged like this and too close together would break them. ”

“So… where do we start, then?”

“The lodestones need to be activated to work, and I doubt they’re going to keep them turned on all the time even though we know where they are.” Marinette started pacing. “And we know that since Chat’s transformation didn’t immediately drop that powers active before the lodestones are introduced are unaffected.”

Marinette stopped and grinned at them.

“I have a plan.”

[hobicomeholla29]

Cuff me if you can - Part 1 - KTH

Pairing: Dad! Street Racer! Taehyung x Judge! Reader

Genre: Fluff/ Slight angst/ Crack

Word Count:5k

Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence/ Cursing/ Mentions of bribing/ Probably incorrect use of legal terminology/ Incorrect legal procedure/ That’s all for this chapter. Oh! unedited!

Rating: PG13

A/N: Well hello again beautiful people! Thank you for taking the time to read this! This sieres are part of BTSghostie writer event for the month of september. Dynamite Dads!

Summary: Kim Taehyung and yourself, live your lives on the opposite side of each other. Yet that doesn’t mean that you can’t meet in the middle.

Masterlist

Getting out of your car, the cool morning breeze caressed what it could of your exposed skin. The walk from the parking lot to the courthouse wasn’t long, but the chills that ran through your body made it feel like it took a little over the usual 5 minutes.

The sun shined like every morning, yet today it felt different somehow.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it felt as if today would be the beginning of something new or different, and that was a lot to say for someone like you.

“Morning judge y/n!”

“Morning”

Your job placed you in a position where you were always in the eyes of criminals and felons that were either angry, moody, violent, sad or careless  ­—and any other word you can come up with, when thinking about wrongdoers who are finally facing the law­­— forcing you to try seeking for positivity in other aspects of your life.

 Since you were a child, you always had an itch that annoyed you every time you had to be in the presence of an unfair or unethical situation and couldn’t do anything about it.

 It is positive to say that you got it from your mother's strong moral views on righteousness, honesty, and integrity.

 And so a dream came up to you, a dream you had expressed to your parents at the tender age of 5 while watching cartoons one cold morning, your parents discussing the latest incident on that morning's newspaper on the other side of the room.

 "I want to put all those kwiminals in jail"

 There was something fulfilling about being able to help people get justice for the wrongs that were done to them, something about making the corrupt, nefarious, and unlawful pay. Your dream never wavered, the sole thought of what the future would hold made you buzz with excitement during your teenage years and still did now in your adulthood.

 It was present during your entire life, you weren't afraid of speaking up when a witness was needed in an unfair situation in school, whether you were putting yourself in a position against a classmate or a teacher, all that mattered was that the problem was solved in a fair manner.

 Yet, even though you kept steadfast loyalty towards your beliefs, it sometimes got you in trouble, as not everyone sees good in someone openly voicing their wrongdoings. Leading you to sometimes being labeled as a snitch —and no one wants to befriend a snitch—.

 Nevertheless, you pushed through, finally meeting people that shared your views in college.

 It was nice to be able to have a conversation with people with the same mentality and strong feelings towards justice as yourself —not saying that you didn't encounter people who were walking this path just for the money.

 And finally, after graduating from law school with two of your closest friends by your side, you decided it had been way too long of a peaceful ride for the evildoers and it was time to get with it.

 "Good morning Y/n!" A voice spoke loudly from behind you.

 "Morning Guk! How was your weekend?" It was always nice to see Jungkook 1st thing in the morning. For some reason, his cute bunny teeth always gave you life.

 Jungkook was one of your friends from college AKA best friend #1. He had the face of a baby with the wisdom of a 70-year-old man –who would have thought.

 His words towards you were always of encouragement or offerings of helping you with anything you needed –just like in college.

 He was methodical with his work, always studying his cases with a careful eye and with discipline. Some hated it, stating he took way too long to make final judgments, however, there wasn't a ruling that Jungkook had ever issued where the victim had been left to suffer the mischief without the guilty paying the price.

 "Pretty calm actually, taking into consideration that I had the Kang case on Sunday" The younger of your friends exhaled "That man has got to get a grip on his life, this is his 3rd showing" He made a pause as if bringing up some memories from the case, however, he quickly returned to the present "How was yours?"

 "It was quiet; abnormally so, thus my wild guess is that this week I'm going to be assigned as many cases as possible."

 "I know that feeling. The impending doom crawling towards you in the shape of Jimin dropping them on your desk."

 “Yep…” You sighed bracing yourself for the upcoming day.

 Briefly talking about other uninteresting subjects and your mundane lives –like, when was Seokjin going to invite both of you out for lunch— you both eventually parted ways to your own chambers.

 "Good morning Judge Y/n"

"Morning Jimin, you look refreshed!"

 Jimin —your perky judicial secretary— was the earthly version of an angel mixed with a dutiful fairy, you sometimes wondered how he even managed to hold up that 1,000-watt smile all day while dealing with you.

 You had been working together for 3 years now and every year they decided to rotate the secretaries, you prayed they wouldn't change him for someone else.

 "I am! Thanks for the days off, they really helped!"

"Don't mention it bubs. What do you have for me today?" You asked as your heels clicked on the tile making your way behind your large rectangular Victorian style oak desk, Jimin quickly trailing behind you with a stack of folders in his arms.

 "These four are for today and these four are for tomorrow" he said as he divided them into two groups in front of you. "I'll have the ones for Wednesday and Thursday ready by tomorrow" he concluded with a small nod and a smile of accomplishment on his plump lips.

 "Thanks, Jimin. What would I do without you?" you smiled up at the younger man, who smiled wider and turned to leave to his own desk a couple of feet away from yours.

 Finally, mentally prepared to start your day —after mindlessly scrolling through your phone for 20 minutes— you unlocked your computer and began reading through the files that Jimin had left on your desk labeled ‘Monday’.

 "Another asshole, who thought he could get away with a hit and run..." you muttered to yourself, as you reviewed the first case.

 The following trials were for a domestic violence case and 2 robberies.

After reviewing the files, you began transcribing some of the information on your computer, adding personal notes based on the evidence that had been collected for each case and saved it all for its intended use in the next 2 hours.

"Since no one likes a slacker, I might as well go through the ones for tomorrow as well."

As expected, there was another case of robbery, one for theft, a case for assault and last but not least a misdemeanor for street racing. 

After an hour of transcribing that called for a well-deserved break, you stretched your arms above your head, sighing softly as the tension was released.

 "Judge... would you like some tea? I'm on my way to the Cafe"

"Ugh Jimin, I love you, why are you so sweet, I'll come with." As you both picked up your belongings and were about to head out to the small cafe across the street, an unforeseen visitor arrived abruptly, startling both you and your secretary.

"Oh, so you're both slacking off now. I thought that was a Y/n thing?"

"I- No judge- we-" Poor Jimin couldn’t even complete a sentence, his mind still in a jumble as a result of the sudden barge into your chamber.

"Seokjin, shut up.” You cut your eyes at his comment. “We are going to the café. You either come with or move out of the way." You laughed a bit while pushing past your best friend #2, making your way out.

Oh, how lucky were you to be able to have them working near you.

 Back from the cafe and ready to face all cases for the day, you walk to your chamber accompanied by Jimin who helped you wear your black robe, both quickly headed to the courtroom for your first trial right after.

Monday had gone by smoothly; all cases being addressed as they should and all sentences set in place.

Tuesday was a better day, the morning had been less chilly than the day prior and you could read a bit before your hearings of the day, since you had proactively  reviewed the cases of today, yesterday.

After the third time hearing it today, a fourth was just unnecessary, however entering the courtroom for the fourth time on that day, you heard the bailiff announcing your arrival.

 “All rise. This court is now in session.” Shuffling could be heard, a sign of everyone in the room getting on their feet. “Honorable judge Y/n L/n Presiding.”

You took your seat and announced to everyone that they could do so too. You took the files that the bailiff handed you and began reading the case.

 “Good morning everyone. Today's hearing is for case 3476, the city vs Lee Simon, Kim Taehyung and Jean Reynolds” you announced.

 “Lee Simon, Kim Taehyung and Jean Reynolds, all three of them, age 26, accused of trespassing private property, injury of a third party and driving over the speed limit, while being timed against each other. All of it initiating from 25th avenue to Map of the Soul street.” You concluded.

“How do you plead?”

“Innocent” “Guilty” “Innocent”

 Internally, you wanted to laugh, but you knew your position required for you to remain serious and focused. It wasn’t the first time a group of friends split due to being involved in a situation they weren’t expected to be in, and it wouldn’t be the last.

 “Seeing that you have different views, let us review the information presented.”

Videos and pictures from street cameras were shown, as well as footed from a dash camera in a hidden police vehicle.

 “Evidence shown so far, seems to portray all three of you as guilty, and the witnesses are yet to come in, excluding the owner of the vehicle you crashed into while running against each other as well as the owner of the private property you drove through.”

 You watched all three of them carefully as you gave them a run through of how this case was going on for them. Two off them looked indifferent, like someone who has done it before, did it this time and will probably do so again.

A chance was soon to be given to all three of them to express why they believed they were innocent, however another piece of evidence was brought in.

“According to this report sent in about your record, you are all repeat offenders, meaning that your options are limited; paying for the legal fees and community service, paying for the legal fees and 1 year jail time or paying for the legal fees, suspension of your driver’s license, a fee of $10,000 and a possibility of impoundment of the motor vehicle used in the crime.”

 "I am going to admit I was there, but I did it for a specific reason, your honor."

"And what reason could that be?"

“Can I approach the bench?”

“Permission granted." The man in question slowly approached you, eyes never wavering from yours.

"I needed the money your honor. I have a daughter..."

"Says here, that you have been detained before and gave out the same reason, so why should we let you off easy Mr. Kim?"

 “So… there is no way we aren’t paying the legal fees -I take it?” the one with the tiger-like eyes spoke up, a small smile playing on his lips as he did so.

“No” the frown on your face was so pronounced, that no area was left for more of his attempt to banter.

“Do I get the easier outcomes if I plead guilty.”

“That’s a possibility...” Now you know why he pleaded guilty. He’s not new to this.

“I have a daughter your honor… I can’t go to jail” He said before you were able to add to your previous sentence.

“That’s for me to decide, however, can’t she stay with a family member?”

“She only has me…” his eyes turned gloomy as he directed his gaze to the floor Infront of you. Should you even trust that action. It could be staged for all you know.

It annoyed you the way how the immediate mention of a child felt like a tool he was using to soften the blow of your possible verdict. However, it still got under your skin and you felt your hard-exterior crumble, allowing your feelings to take over and think about the poor child that would have to deal with an uncomfortable situation.

“How old is your daughter Mr. Kim?”

“four” His demeanor changed entirely the moment he found more time to speak about the hypothetical child he had.

“Who is she with at the moment?”

“A friend”

“Everyone back to their seats…”

You were so predictable. Jungkook would have never softened for something like that.

He would have given him 2 years in jail, taken his car, taken his driver’s license and custody of the child as well, for not being a suitable parent. But no, you had to be like Seokjin, soft hearted and taking people’s feelings into consideration. Bleh.

 “Based on the evidence collected. I am ready to provide a verdict for this case. Lee Simon and Jean Reynolds you are sentenced to serve 6 months of county jail time, pay a fine of $5,000 plus all legal fees and your license will be suspended for 6 months. Kim Taehyung, you are sentenced to a fine of $3,000, suspension of your driver’s license for 6 months, paying the legal fees and community service for 6 months.” You stated re arranging the documentation on your desk and setting them aside.

“Please take them. Mr. Kim shall be escorted to the officer’s department in order to have his rules set in place.”

“Thank you.” A voice said to you right after. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Kim Taehyung, however you did so. He was flashing you a large square smile. It wasn't 1,000 watts like Jimin’s but it was still warm and different, even a bit playful if you looked at it for long.

“That daughter of yours better be real.” You muttered before collecting the final documentation and exiting the room.

But not before hearing.

“Didn’t know they had such pretty judges in here, I should get arrested more often.”

You should have put him in jail. Or maybe not.

It’s funny how you haven’t been able to get your mind to stop remembering his cheeky squared smile and that aura of a playful child in a large man. It's been 2 weeks now.

Yet you can’t forget him walking up into your courtroom with all that confidence, as if he owned the place.

“Ugh”

“Everything ok?”

You gasped loudly, not having heard Jimin enter the chamber as you mindlessly rolled your mouse around and thought about the man who you sentenced to community service a couple of weeks ago.

“You nearly killed me Jimin!” you voiced a little louder than you should have, the fright still showing in your tone.

“I'm sorry" poor kid, all he did was be nice all day.

“You're fine, I just didn’t hear you come in” you answered, returning to aimlessly move your mouse and stare at the open word document on your computer screen.

“Oh! I see. Well in your favor, I was trying to be quiet. Anyways, what are you doing here so early judge y/n?” leave it to Jimin to always worry about others.

“I thought I could… focus on something else by working a little, but the chambers triggered my distractions even more…” You tried internally to not bring it up, but you knew you had to tell someone about it.

About the fact that maybe you might have an itty-bitty tiny crush on a man you barely saw for a span of 40 minutes and convicted for a crime. You are so lame.

Jimin moved around his desk -you assumed- arranging all of his documents for the day and bring his computer to life.

“and what is it?” he asked you after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence.

“What is what?”

“The distraction that's caught your attention, what is it?” his eyes stared at you widely, they looked so earnest and kind. Just wanting to help you with whatever inconvenience you were having.

“Um… well… you’ll probably think it's dumb"

“I promise I won't” he answered so fast, it felt like he was expecting you to decline opening up to him.

“Well…. I… kinda-have-a-small-crush-on-a-man-I-barely-know-and-could-be-a-scofflaw.”

Your sentence had come out abruptly and in such a rapid fire, that you could see the cogs turning in Jimin’s head as he connected all the things you had said and laced them together.

“Did you just say scofflaw?”

“Is that all you caught from my sentence?” flabbergasted, that's what you were with his reaction.

“No, but… really? scofflaw? Not even judge Harry who's 78 uses that term anymore.”

“Not the point Jimin…" frustrated at the weird turn the conversation had taken, you pinched your nose bridge, trying to figure out the young man's train of thought .

“Ok, ok. But is it one of the guys from a couple of weeks ago. The street racer ones?”

“How do you-"

“Eva from the reception said that, Joyce from finance told her that, Hyerin from chamber 5, saw them being called in on their hearing day and that they were all —her words, not mine— as hot as a super-sized bag of flamin hot Cheetos.”

 Now that’s stuck in your mind. Jimin was definitely not helping.

 “Curse you, procrastination!”

 Grocery shopping should have been done weeks ago. But you were tired, and sleepy and distracted and everything in between that could keep you from doing the boring task that  buying your own food was.

 Walking through the aisles in the grocery store, you could hear a little girl talking her —probably parent's— ear off.

 Not paying too much attention to her, you were barely able to catch a couple of words here and there as you walked around picking up what you needed.

 "Fishies would be a good pet because I can't hu't it if I hug it awound his house"

"Why can't I see my own eyes?"

"Can we get vanilla this time, stwabewies we'e yuck!"

"How do clouds float? Why don't they fall?"

"Look! Look! A toy!"

 She sounded so excited and the little lisp with her R's was the cutest, you thought.

 You were almost done with your list, only missing some meat or poultry and a pound of potatoes, —'cause you've been craving gratin potatoes for a while and you were done living a life without them.

 Making your way to the missing items, you could once again hear a conversation going on between the little girl and the other person, but this time the adult with her spoke. It was a grave voice, very deep and somewhat familiar, yet not enough to put a face to it.

 "You are not having a pet, until you understand the responsibilities that come with taking care of an animal" The voice answered the little girl sternly. You could imagine the man's face voided of any emotion and trying to maintain a serious visage. Probably trying to teach his daughter a lesson.

Again, the voice sounded familiar, giving you a tingling sensation in the back of your mind. However, in your distraction, the links that attempted to connect in your mind remained ignored.

 You continued rolling your cart, hastily turning around each corner; ready to pick up what you were missing and bolt home to make the delicious meal you have been craving for.

 However, you were suddenly stopped by another cart that crashed right into yours as they rushed towards you from around the corner.

 "Oof, My bad" - "Oh no! I'm so sorry!"

 You both said in unison.

 “Oh...” Came the immediate reaction from both of you, as you noticed who the person you had bumped into was.

 "So, the whole you having a daughter wasn’t a lie after all"

 "You offend me your honor." Was his reply as he chuckled a bit to himself "But I guess I am not a good example of what a decent human or father should be like..."

 "Oh Hush! We all make mistakes. Even some that land us in Jury or court" You giggled a little trying to soften whatever thought had him thinking he was the worst human ever to walk on this earth.

 Of course, he had made a mistake —a couple of them at that—   but it wasn’t murder, and he was attempting to make an income for his family.

 "What's her name?" You asked him as you both watched her eyeing the fish tank you assumed she saw the fish at before.

 "Yoonah. But she prefers to be called Nah-Nah" His voice mellowed. You looked at him with a smirk on your face, but all you got was the sight of a man watching his daughter with the fondest of gazes. So much love could be found in his eyes, he was proud and filled with warmth. The small smiled that decorated his features said it all.

 “Is she your only daughter?”

 Your question brought him back to the present.

 “Oh, yeah – she is” Was his curt answer. The tone he used made you feel a bit guilty, as if you were way too into his business, so you decided to cut it short.

 “Well it was nice meeting you outside of court Mr. Kim –and little miss Yoonah as well.” Were your final words as you waved your hand swiftly and left to finish your shopping, missing entirely the smile that graced his lips when he heard you address his little girl.

 For some reason, you hoped to see them one more time before you left the store, just to make sure they were ok —even though there was nothing dangerous at a grocery store.

 --

After so much fussing and so many tantrums, Kim Taehyung was finally tired out.

It could be seen from a mile away, just by watching his shoulders slightly slump and Yoonah grinning up at him with a content expression.

 Naturally, the best view of your day was Kim Taehyung walking out of the grocery store with four bags on one shoulder and a small plastic bag in his right hand, filled with water and two gold fish swimming peacefully.

So much for the sterned voice he had back there.

 You lingered a little more on your way to your own car, head turning slightly to your left, just to watch him interact with his daughter. You are sure you look like a creep, but it was so endearing, you couldn’t help yourself.

He kept her close by while he loaded the trunk with groceries and tickled her sides while placing her in her car seat. N sight of a father that didn’t care for his daughter or an irresponsible parent. Yeah, that was going to be your excuse for staring longer than needed.

 Yet what was a little more time for you, was enough to give him a full view of you watching them both with something in your expression that he couldn’t read, but whatever it was, had his heart racing a little more than it should for somewhat of a stranger that could put him in jail.

You’re not sure if it’s one of those times where once you meet someone one time, you end up seeing them everywhere.

How is it possible that on a chill evening in the park, while you were enjoying a slow-paced stroll and a hot chocolate in your hands, you see him again. You are about to start thinking that maybe he is following you and in addition to committing his past crime, he is also a stalker.

But he couldn’t be. He’s not even looking at you. From your short distance from him, you can see his eyes trained on something else. A fond smile decorated his lips as if whatever held his attention was above everything in this world.

From this angle you could appreciate his profile. A very handsome man you should say.

His eyes slowly crinkle into smaller half-moons in favor of his now growing smile taking more space. His teeth now baring and the apple of his cheeks flexing.

Oh! what a sight.

What would it feel like to poke them? you thought to yourself.

Yet, your legs had other plans and were already in action. Your brain had already sent signals to your arms and fingers to poke all soft parts that it came into contact with.

You are a judge, for goodness’s sake, touching someone without their authorization is battery. What are you doing?

 Yet right before you were able to do so you heard her.

“Daddy!” The soft giggles that followed filled the air that surrounded you. You turned your head to the direction of the sound and just in time you caught the sight of a little girl running from the playground into Taehyung’s arms.

Before you even turned to him, he was already catching her, squeezing her tightly in his embrace.

“Did you see that daddy? I did it!”

“Yes, you did princess! And you were amazing! Best cartwheel I have ever seen!”

The little girl giggled and squealed as Taehyung blew raspberries everywhere around her.

 When she finally calmed down, her eyes met yours and her head tilted in questions.

“It’s the groceries lady daddy!”

Turning to look at who his daughter was pointing at, he met you, only 3 steps away from him.

“Jud- Judge Y/n?”

“Hi again Mr. Kim, seems like we keep bumping into each other.”

“So it seems.” Today his smile was a careless one or was it a content one. Either way they were still that remarkable boxy smile.

“Nice to see you again miss Nah-Nah.” You greeted the little girl that had noticed you first and a hearty giggle left her body in return.

“What brings you here?” Asked the man that you had somehow forgotten was by your side or maybe you were just trying to ignore the strong tiger eyes that bore into you by entertaining a conversation with his cute daughter.

“Daddy, can I go to the big slide?”

“Not, without supervision Nah-Nah.” He answered so seriously, it reminded you of the voice in the grocery store.

“But daddy, I am a big gu’l now”

“Nah-Nah…”

“Daddy…” he sighed so loudly; you couldn’t help but laugh at his odyssey.

It was Deja vu from the grocery store and fish all over again. All that big father talk for nothing. He was so whipped for his daughter.

“Ok, let’s make a deal…”

“Yes!”

“You can go to the big slide, but if you get an ‘owie’, I want you to get up and dust off just like big girls do. Ok?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Ok, princess. Go on”

Not a second went by after his sentence and little Yoonah was already off to an adventure with the rest of the kids in the park.

“She is so precious”

“Thank you”

You both stayed in a comfortable silence, staring into the distance in the direction Yoonah had left of. However, that peace was cut by the man standing near you.

“So, are you following us now your honor?” That playful smirk of his was back, alerting you quickly that he was just attempting at a friendly banter with you.

“Hmm, maybe I am, but I’ll never let you know.” You said winking at him.

He laughed so loud at the action, that you could not hold back a laughter of your own.

“So you do have a sense of humor” He stated after calming down.

“I do, when I am outside of my line of work.”

“Understandable…”

Once again, a comfortable silence fell between you both as you watched his daughter running around filled with glee, playing with other children.

“So, who were the ugly judges you encountered before me?” Now it was your turn to start the conversation and again he laughed. Who would have thought you were this funny.

“So, you did hear that.”

You definitely did and deep within you hoped he meant it. Even though it wasn’t the time or place for his flirting.

“Maybe…”

“I meant it… just in case you were wondering.”

Yes, you were!!!

“Oh! I- umm… Thank you.” You could feel your face heating up, however you refused to end the eye contact you were keeping up since your conversation began.

“Anytime… Like honestly. Any. Time. And every time. I’ll repeat it every time I find it necessary.” He said his smile growing with each word that he sent your way. And you, well you weren’t one to back down on a flirting challenge.

“And how is that possible, if we don’t see each other all the time?” you asked, acting coyly.

“I might have a solution for that, your honor.” Welp. Now you got yourself into something.

Two weeks had gone by since that day.

Two weeks after Mr. Kim had asked for your number and invited you for ice cream with Yoonah, under the excuse of a thank you for not sending him to jail. Needless to say, you quickly corrected his statement to not have him think this was a favor you had done for him, but a decision you had made based on evidence and circumstances surrounding the case.

It had also been a week since Mr. Kim changed from that name to Taehyung.

The mocking that came with you saying his given name for the first time was endless.

“Awww, so no more Mr. Kim?”

“Shut it Taehyung!”

[jlalafics]

Hey can you do an everlark fake dating please🥺🥺

Anon, I’m sure you were looking for something a little more romantic than what I came up with. There is romance, but there’s some other stuff too.

Thank you for inspiring this four-parter. I hope you enjoy!

_____

Summary: Peeta needed a date for his brother’s wedding. His co-worker Katniss was more than willing to play along. Sometimes, simple favors can turn into so much more. A fake dating story done in four parts. Rated E. Definitely NSFW.

A Simple Favor

The Invite

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Peeta gawked at the frilly invitation in his grasp, then at the attached list of activities.

Three days.

Three fucking days of wedding activities to torture him.

“Can we tone down the cursing?” Katniss, his co-worker, sat down at her desk adjacent to his. “This is a place of business.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you had to go to this.”

Peeta swiveled his chair, tossing the invitation onto Katniss’ desk. It landed smoothly atop her keyboard and she reached to read the perfect calligraphy print announcing the upcoming nuptials of Rye Mellark to Delly Cartwright.

She turned back to Peeta. “Yeah…so?”

“Look who’s the Maid of Honor.”

Katniss looked to the right part of the invitation which listed the wedding party.

Her grey eyes suddenly shot up at him. “Oh, holy fuck! Is that her?”

“Yeah. It’s hard to look at her name and not still see her sucking off my best friend.”

Katniss snorted. “Yeah—that’s not an image even I would likely forget.” She examined the invitation again. “Gawd, even her name is pretty. Madge Undersee.”

“Don’t remind me,” Peeta growled, yanking the invitation from her grasp. “Who plans three days of pre-wedding activities?”

“Your brother and his affianced, apparently.” Katniss gave him a sympathetic smile. “You think she’ll bring him?”

“According to my brother, they’re officially together now.”

Peeta never used to be this bitter.

However, two years ago, that irrevocably changed when he discovered his then-fiancée on her knees and giving his best friend a blowie—on his bed. Madge had wept, of course, telling him that it had just happened.

And Gale…he had begged for Peeta to understand that it wasn’t just sex…that he felt something more for Madge.

How the hell was he supposed to understand that?

Peeta had packed his things and immediately left the apartment that he and his best friend had been living in—let the fucker deal with the astronomical Bay Area rent on his own.

He then accepted a job at Panem Projects, a Brooklyn based start-up created by tech mogul Haymitch Abernathy. The uber-genius had invented an app that allowed you to search for specific non-profits and charities that one may be interested in contributing to.

On Peeta’s first day, he met Katniss Everdeen, who was part of the QA department he was in. She was a supervisor while he was just one of the lowly engineers.

They had been sitting across from one another ever since.

“That sucks.” Katniss sat back, crossing her legs, as she watched him carefully. “Did you want to get wasted after work?”

++++++

It was at their fifth round of shots that the idea came about.

“I can’t go to this.” Peeta held the invitation, now beer-stained and being used as a coaster for their peanut bowl. “It’s basically a three-day Peeta Mellark roast!”

“Yeah, and a wedding,” Katniss replied. She leaned forward, her cheeks warmed from booze. “You know what you need? A date to this God-awful event. Not just any date, a hot date.”

“Here’s the problem, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“It doesn’t have to be a real date,” she reasoned. “Find a great-looking chick who’d be willing to spend three days looking like she worships your cock. Isn’t this what those dating apps are for?”

“I don’t want a stranger around my family!” He reached for the beer bottle in front of him—was this even his? “That’s how those Netflix crime specials come about.”

Katniss chuckled. “Okay. Understandable.” She met his glazed stare. “I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“I said I’ll go with you,” Katniss declared. “I’ll be your hot date.”

Peeta took a long swig. “Uh…no offense Katniss…you’re definitely pretty…but hot?”

“I have been known to dress up once in a while.”

He looked at his friend; her dark hair was in its usual braid and she wore a pair of fitted jeans along with a zip-up with the Panem Projects logo on it—some sort of fiery bird. On her feet were a pair of Converses that had seen better days.

“You’re really know how to make a girl feel desired,” Katniss told him. “I can’t think of any possible reason why Madge would dump you.”

“Hey now! That’s hitting below the belt!”

“Well, you don’t think I can be hot!” she retorted. “Give me your phone!”

Peeta, in fear of his life, pulled out his phone from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to the woman.

Katniss picked up the invitation with her free hand and started to type with the other.

“Katniss…Motherfucking…Everdeen…” She handed the phone back to him. “I’ve RSVP’d for you and added myself as your plus one.”

He looked at the browser window and then back at a smirking Katniss.

“You actually wrote ‘Katniss Motherfucking Everdeen’ as my date’s name.” Peeta had to smile. “My mother is going to love that.”

“She’s going to love me,” Katniss assured him. “She and everyone else at this wedding is going to forget who the hell Madge Undersee is after I’m done with them.”

Peeta had to ask. “Why are you doing this?”

“I know how it feels to be taken by surprise.” She was suddenly staring very hard at the dirty bar table they sat at. “Plus, you’re my friend and we take care of each of other.” Her eyes met his, her own looking like she was on the verge of breaking. “Right?”

Peeta reached over and squeezed her hand. “Right.”

++++++

“Okay, so I have prepared a portfolio of myself.” Katniss presented him with a closed folder. “Childhood photos…likes and dislikes…just some general information that a boyfriend should know.”

“34C?” Peeta eyed her doubtfully, briefly flitting to her white button down. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You bought me a lovely dark green lingerie set for our last anniversary.” Katniss pulled out a piece of paper. “Here is a little questionnaire that I’ve made for you, just for me to know you a little better.”

Peeta skimmed over the questions. Most of them were pretty general; where he was born, his parents’ and his brother’s name as well as their ages, his favorite foods…then—

“Why do you need to know if I’m circumcised?”

“If we have supposedly been together for about six months, shouldn’t we be having sex by now?” she questioned.

“True.” Peeta looked around the room. “Is it okay that we’re using a meeting room for this?”

Katniss shrugged. “The guys in IT use this room to play Pokémon every Friday.”

“Also, when are you going to do something about…” He waved his hand out at today’s outfit: a pair of black slacks, a white button down, and brown loafers. “…that.”

“Don’t you worry your perfect little blond self.” Katniss playfully ruffled his hair. “I didn’t realize that you were so fixated on looks.”

“You were the one who suggested ‘hot’,” he pointed out. “However, my parents, who are generally good people, can sometimes be judgmental. So besides being very smart and extremely accomplished—we’re going to have to show them how great you are on the outside.”

“Peeta, do my looks matter to you?” she suddenly asked. “I mean, do you think that I’m pretty?”

Katniss wasn’t what people would call conventionally beautiful.

Her hair was a single shade of black which could be a bit-frizzy on humid days, and her complexion was sun-kissed with a sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks. However, Peeta saw deep grey eyes that sparkled when she was particularly excited about something (pushing a new feature on their app, for example) and full rose-colored lips that needed no lipstick.

And when she smiled, everything about her just lit up.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he said truthfully. “I do worry that the people at this wedding won’t see you the way I see you.”

“Then that’s their fucking problem, isn’t it?” Katniss smiled gently. “We just have to make this look real. I think we can do this.” She pushed a pen towards him. “Now, fill your questionnaire out, okay?”

“Alright.” He reached for the pen and his eyes went to her. “Katniss?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

++++++

Two Weeks Later…

“Sister—Primrose…24…a nurse in Seattle…Mom…Kate…former teacher…Dad…Marcus…former General in the Army….”

As he waited for Katniss’ Uber to arrive, Peeta went through the flashcards that he and Katniss had created in order to get through the three days leading up to his brother’s wedding.

They had everything from their first date (a Harry Potter trivia night at a bar close to their office) to any distinguishable body marks (him—a scar on his knee from falling off his bike at 12 and her—surprisingly, a scar just above her left butt cheek from a tattoo removal procedure, though she wouldn’t tell him what the tattoo was).

“Peeta?”

He had been so distracted that he didn’t even hear the car pull up.

“Sorry.” He tucked the cards in his back pocket and lifted his eyes to greet her. “Hey…holy shit.”

This was not Katniss Everdeen.

Katniss Everdeen didn’t wear her dark hair down in smooth waves that framed a perfect heart-shaped face. She didn’t wear sleeveless black jumpsuits that revealed rich olive skin and plush breasts (she was definitely a 34C).

“You like?”

She did a little twirl for him, graceful despite the stilettos she wore.

And, Katniss definitely didn’t have an ass that made his mouth water.

The unbidden thought of biting into one of those full globes caused his cock to twitch in his now too tight jeans.

“I like.” Peeta gave her a smile. “Maybe a little too much.”

She looked triumphant. “Give you a boner?”

“Fuck yeah,” he replied, a tad breathless.

“Then I’ve done my job.” Katniss wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hello boyfriend.”

Her mouth covered his own and his arms encircled her waist, pulling her tightly against his body. She teased, nipping at his bottom lip, her tongue skimming his lips before pulling away. Something surged inside him and his tongue invaded her mouth, sweeping in to taste sweetness.

Katniss growled against him, her center pressing into his now definitely hard cock.

Reluctantly—because they had to either breathe or die during the world’s hottest kiss—they pulled apart.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, gasping for breath.

“Because we’re supposed to be in love.” Her chest heaved, her eyes just cooling down from their kiss. “And couples in love kiss like that.”

“I know no couples who kiss like that,” he told her, a smile unexpectedly forming on his lips. “But feel free to kiss me like that whenever you see fit.”

++++++

During their five-hour flight, they went over the wedding itinerary.

“I’ve had a stylist pull looks for us for all the fancier events,” Katniss explained. “Don’t worry, nothing looks like we’re trying too hard. We’ll be more complimentary to one another.”

“What would trying too hard look like?” Peeta asked curiously.

“Well, if your tie matched my dress for example.”

A flight attendant stopped in front of their seats. “What can I get you both?”

Katniss smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He will have…” Her fingers brushed against his ear lobe and he couldn’t help but shiver in pleasure. “…a cup of chamomile tea. I will have a coffee—”

“With milk and two sugars,” he breathed out, trying to smile up at the attendant.

“Thanks baby,” Katniss cooed at him, her hand brushing through his hair affectionately.

The woman quickly fixed their drinks, handing their cups to them one by one.

“Can I just say that you too are extremely adorable?” the flight attendant remarked.

Katniss put a hand to her chest.

“Thank you!” She looked to Peeta; her expression full of affection. “He’s just so easy to love.”

Peeta smiled tightly. “This is my dream girl…” He patted Katniss’ hand. “…right here.”

The flight attendant practically squealed before going to the next seats.

“You really could be a little bit more convincing,” Katniss remarked. “Maybe act like my touch doesn’t repulse you.”

“You don’t!” He shifted towards her. “In fact, it’s really the opposite.”

Katniss rested back against her seat. “Really?” She crossed her arms. “Convince me.”

Peeta unbuckled his seatbelt. Pressing the release button of the armrest, he pushed it up so there was no divider between them.

Katniss waited, obviously interested in what he was up to. He realized that their tray tables covered anything below the waist and his mouth widened in a grin.

“Tell me.” His hand went to her thigh. “What exactly are you wearing under this?” The fabric beneath his palm was smooth and he could feel a full firm thigh. He continued upwards towards the cleft between her thighs. “Are you even wearing underwear?”

Katniss’ arms fell to her side and she swallowed thickly. “I am.”

“And, if my hand found its way between your thighs—” His hand stopped just about an inch from her center and she let out a labored breath. “—if my fingers brushed against this practically non-existent cloth, would I find you wet?”

“Maybe,” she whispered.

Peeta leaned forward, his mouth going to her ear.

“Would you let me put my fingers to your clit? Let me rub you until you came all over this seat?” His pressed his mouth to the spot behind her ear and she shivered. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d happily fill this cabin with the smell of sex if I fingered you into completion—”

“Stop—” Katniss gasped out, her hand covering the hand on her thigh. “I’m convinced.”

“Good.”

Peeta moved his hand away—but not before quickly brushing the tips of his fingers at her center. The feeling of heat had him hard immediately.

“You’re far from repulsive, Katniss.” He met her heated stare. “I’ve always thought that.”

Katniss snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Peeta took her hand, placing it to where his erection demanded to be freed.

“Believe me,” he demanded, and her fingers moved against the rough fabric of his jeans. “This is because of you. Yeah, it’s extremely hot to see you in this get-up, but what makes me hard is that look in your eyes.”

Katniss licked her lips. “What look?”

“That fire,” he told her, his thumb caressing the top of her hand. “That fire in those grey eyes will always get me, if you’re in this black jumpsuit—” Her fingers enclosed along his cock, gripping him firmly. “—or if you’re wearing that ugly zip-up sweater that HR gave you for your work anniversary.”

“Excuse me?” They both jumped at the voice and looked to see the flight attendant. “We’ve just been notified that we’ll be landing a little sooner than we announced. So, if you could finish your drinks in the next few minutes—”

“Of course,” Katniss said quickly, her free hand reaching for her cup. “We’ll be done soon.”

The woman gave them a smile and moved on to the next row.

Katniss sat back, the hand on him quickly disappearing.

“You’re going to be more problematic than I thought,” she said, her eyes dark.

“Trust me.” Peeta let out a breath. “The feeling is mutual.”

++++++

“I never asked, but you and Rye are pretty close, right?”

Peeta nodded, pushing the cart with their luggage down the corridor as they left baggage claim.

“We’re probably just as close as you and Prim are,” he told her. “And Delly is great. Horrendous taste in friends, but she’s really a sweet person.”

“Do you suspect that Rye will see through all of this?” Katniss questioned.

Peeta shook his head. “We’ve done our research.” He stopped, reaching for her hand. “I also always thought that you and I had great chemistry…in the workplace. I think it transfers easily into whatever we’re trying to pull off.”

Katniss smiled. “I feel the exact same way.”

“Peeta!”

They turned to see a couple, running toward them excitedly.

Rye rushed over, pulling him into a tight hug and practically lifting him off the ground. His brother was a broad fellow; muscular from years of playing football throughout high school and college. However, Rye was as gentle as they came when it came to his younger brother and the lovely woman that he would soon be marrying.

“I’ve missed you, little brother!” Rye said affectionately. “Welcome home!”

They drew apart, just as Delly pulled away from hugging Katniss.

He reached over to quickly kiss Delly on the cheek. “Hello soon-to-be big sister.”

“Hello, my sweet little brother,” Delly greeted in return.

“Rye, Delly—” Katniss beamed at him and his heart leapt at the affectionate gesture. Taking her hand, he presented her proudly to the couple. “—this lovely woman is my girlfriend, Katniss Everdeen.”

Delly grinned at his expression. “I can already tell that she’s going to be a perfect addition to our family.”

Rye took Katniss’ hand, leaning and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“I welcome anyone who makes my baby brother smile this brightly,” he told her. “Welcome to San Francisco. Have you ever been here?”

Katniss shook her head. “This is my first time. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks!” Delly glowed in excitement. “I can’t wait for all the festivities—” She whipped around to her fiancé. “—and for us to be married, of course!” They all chuckled at her exuberance.

Rye led them out into where the town cars were stationed; a man in a black suit immediately took the cart and headed to the trunk of the black Sedan in front of them.

“A driver?” Peeta asked.

“Mom and Dad insisted,” Rye responded with a grimace. “You know them.”

They all slid into the wide back seats, Rye closing the door behind him.

Delly immediately pounced. “So, how did you two meet?”

“We’ve been working together for the last two years at Panem Projects,” Katniss told her easily. “I’ve always liked Peeta and we became friends right away.”

“However, a little over six months ago, I finally got the balls to ask her out on an actual date,” Peeta finished for her. His hand found hers, their fingers entwining easily, and he met Katniss’ eyes. “And, wonderful woman that she was, she accepted. We’ve been together ever since.”

“I love it,” Delly said sincerely. “And you look so beautiful together. The children are going to be gorgeous.”

Rye smiled affectionately at his fiancée. “Don’t scare Katniss off, love.”

“I don’t know,” Katniss said, eyeing Peeta playfully. Her free hand reached to push his hair away from his face. “I’ve always loved blue-eyed children.”

“And, the children would look particularly lovely if they had Katniss’ hair,” he added, his hand reaching to the tuck a tendril of her hair behind her ear.

How did he never notice what was in front of him?

“Oh man,” Rye said, looking between them. He smirked at his brother. “You are so fucked.”

++++++

“It’s so wonderful to have you here, Katniss,” his mother said. “We’ve never had Peeta bring a girl home. You know, except for Mad—" She waved her hand, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you are most welcome.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Mellark,” Katniss replied graciously.

“Call me Janice, my dear.”

Behind her, Peeta followed along with his father carrying their bags up the stairs.

“She seems like a lovely girl,” his father told him.

“I care for her a great deal,” Peeta said as he watched his mother and Katniss chat easily. “I don’t know how I even got her.”

“Trust me, son.” He gave Peeta an affectionate smile. “I think she feels the same way. I can tell just by the way she keeps looking over for you—like she can’t believe that you’re together.”

They stopped at the door to his childhood room.

“Well, we put some extra towels in your bedroom,” his mother told them. “And, Mags—” Peeta had introduced Katniss to the head of the household when they first entered his childhood home. “—made sure that fresh sheets have been put on the bed and she’s aired out the room as well.”

“Okay, but where will Katniss be staying?” he asked.

“We’re not so old to not know that you aren’t sleeping together,” his mother said. “So, we just set up your room for the both of you.”

“That’s perfect,” Katniss told his parents. She looked to him boldly. “Show me your room. I’m dying to see those little league trophies of yours.”

“We know that you must be exhausted,” his father told them. “So, we’ll just have dinner sent up and we can rendezvous for brunch tomorrow in the main dining room.”

“Thank you, Marshall,” Katniss said as Peeta opened the door for them. “Thank you as well, Janice.”

“Of course, dear.” His mother gave them a jaunty wink. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Entering the room, Peeta placed their bags at the end of his bed.

“What kind of life did you leave when you came to work at Panem Projects?” Katniss stared up at the high ceiling of the room, her eyes traveling to the four-post bed, and then to the floor-to-ceiling windows. She went to one immediately. “Oh my God! You can see everything from up here!”

“A house on Twin Peaks affords that kind of view. However, it’s not so great on foggy days,” he told her, watching as she examined every bit of his room from the bathroom (“A clawfoot tub!”) to the walk-in closet (This is practically the size of my studio!).

Taking off her shoes, Katniss leapt onto his bed. “Holy shit! This is heavenly!”

Peeta went to her, toeing off his own shoes before joining her.

They laid side by side, hands immediately reaching for one another.

He turned to her. “Did I ever say thank you for being here?”

“It’s all worth it to stay in this sweet room,” Katniss replied, her grey eyes dancing.

“So, you’re just here for the room?”

She smirked. “Well, I did also find out that you have a huge cock—so that’s a bonus.”

“Katniss!” Her laughter filled the room and his stomach tumbled in pleasure hearing it. He suddenly flipped, his chest over hers and the giggles fell from her lips. Peeta stared down at her, her grey eyes suddenly darkening as he examined her. “You’re something special.”

“I’m nothing.” Her chest rose and Katniss let out a shaky breath. “I just want to be here for you.”

“I want to kiss you,” he suddenly said, his hand reaching to trace her jawline. “Would you allow it?”

“Are you doing it because you want to thank me?” she asked tightly. “Or because you want to explore what is obviously between us?”

“Both, I think.” Peeta had never felt this exhilarated or this flustered by someone. Just a touch from Katniss and he was in a whirlwind, happy to be caught in it. “I just think you deserve someone less broken than I am.”

“We’re both broken.” Her hand reached for the nape of his neck, drawing him down until their lips were brushing. “I don’t know if we can fix that, but we can help each other mend.” She smiled against him. “Let’s see where this weekend takes us, and we can go from there. For now, I’m allowing you to kiss me. So, make it a good one.”

Peeta dipped his mouth into hers, sampling just a bit, and it was like he could breathe again. Immediately, his lips sought hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and swirling against her own. Katniss moaned and his heart rose in triumph as she pressed herself to him eagerly.

His hand reached to cradle her head, his fingers entwining in soft waves and he plunged into her mouth once more, exploring her in their kiss.

Katniss ripped her mouth off his, a string of saliva still connecting them.

“Fuck!” Her eyes were frenzied. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

He grinned. “I’m just exploring.”

Despite his attempt to remain cool, his own heart raced; the feel of her mouth…and her tongue undoing him.

This wasn’t the plan, but it felt right.

“This whole game we’re playing,” she said, her eyes full of hunger. “I’m going to crash and burn, aren’t I?”

“If you burn—” Peeta kissed her tenderly. “—then I burn with you.”

END OF PART ONE

[sohotthateveryonedied]

In the Eye of a Hurricane

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

He can hear his mom’s voice as he reads the letter, recognizes her handwriting in all its fancy loops and swirls. She tells Jack in the letter that she has been hiding a secret from him for years and doesn’t have the guts to tell him in person. Tim skims, tries to pick apart his mom’s long-winded explanations about living in fear of being found out, of the shame that followed her every day.

Tim can’t even begin to guess what she could be talking about until finally he sees it, clear as day in black ink.

Timothy isn’t your son.

Mom is dead. Dad is in a coma. Bruce is...here.

Tim is still getting used to the idea of a parental figure sticking with him for longer than a few weeks at a time. He keeps waiting for Bruce to turn a corner and disappear without a trace like he should, but it never happens. He stays by Tim’s side, offering support that Tim wasn’t even aware could be offered. It’s different, but it’s a good different. Tim only wishes that could be enough to wash away the grief. He takes it one day at a time, bit by bit, if only to keep himself from looking too far ahead and seeing the sea of loneliness waiting for him in the case that his dad never wakes up. Today he dedicates himself to handling his parents’ finances, sifting through the mess they left in the hands of their thirteen-year-old son. It’s eerie being in his dad’s office now, like he’s entering a tomb. Tim is searching for his parents’ insurance documents so he can get that dealt with and out of the way, then move on to the next project. Whatever takes his mind off of it all. It’s hard enough seeing his dad lying in that hospital bed every day, looking dead but not quite getting there yet. Tim opens the next filing cabinet, grabbing another stack of files and opening the first folder, only for an envelope to fall out. It’s not like the others, otherwise Tim would have put it back and disregarded it altogether. But this one is not a clean white envelope you would find in any office. This one is made of thick paper, yellowing at the edges with swirl patterns on the flap. Jack, don’t open this until I’m dead, it says in Tim’s mother’s handwriting.

Dad clearly didn’t obey orders (what else is new?) because the envelope has already been torn open. It’s crumpled at the corners, creased in places it shouldn’t be, as if Dad was angry when he stuffed the contents back into the envelope and locked it away in this cabinet. Tim’s first instinct is to read it. After all, Janet Drake is dead. She’s not here to scold Tim for going through what isn’t his, but that is precisely what stops him from opening the letter. This is from his mother—his mother who is now dead. And his dad is in a coma. Poking into their business...it feels wrong. No matter how curious Tim is, he can’t desecrate this letter. So he tucks the envelope into his pocket, careful not to wrinkle it. He can’t imagine what the letter must be about, but that isn’t very surprising. Despite being their son, Tim didn’t know Janet and Jack Drake any better than he’d know a gym coach or one of the housekeepers. He knew everything about their company and their lifestyles, but he never got more than a glimpse into who they truly were. Not until it was too late. The closest Tim would ever get to bonding with his parents were the rare nights on which Mom and Dad would sit with Tim on the sofa, watching Pixar movies until he fell asleep. Those were his favorite memories of his parents: his dad calling him “champ” and talking endlessly about the movies’ animation styles, Mom with her hair down and her makeup washed off, for once not caring about her appearance. Tim doesn’t know what the letter could possibly be about, but curiosity is a persistent thing. Days click by, switching off into nights in an endless cycle. Dad doesn’t wake from the coma. Tim isn’t sure if he ever will. Dick and Bruce hover around him like house flies, waiting for some kind of ball to drop. Maybe for Tim to break down, to cry, to mourn the ending of his world. Instead, all Tim can do is wonder about the letter. If it was so important, Tim would already know whatever it was, right? Maybe it’s a copy of his mom’s will. Maybe it’s a map to a collection of buried treasure that she never told anyone about. Maybe it’s a confession that she was secretly a supervillain and all of those trips she and Dad took were actually with the intention to rob every bank across the eastern seaboard. Tim keeps the letter buried under piles of school papers in his desk drawer, but it might as well be sending out a signal to him every minute, reminding him of its presence. He falls asleep night after night in his temporary room at the manor, listening to the letter rattle around in its drawer like a tell-tale heart. What does it say? What secret was his mother hiding? Is it about Tim? Is it about her past? Will it unlock some family conspiracy? Tim makes it almost a month resisting the siren’s call before he can’t take it any longer. He climbs out of bed one night, the floor cold on his bare feet. He grabs the letter from its hiding place and jumps back into bed where the shadows’ tendrils can’t reach. He pulls his blanket over his head, a shiver running down his spine as he clicks on his flashlight and sets the beam on the letter. He can feel the walls watching him, witnessing this desecration of his dead mother’s written crypt. These are the last words he will ever get from her. Tim opens the letter. He recognizes his mother’s stationery, the flower patterns at the top. Back when he was younger, Tim used to spin around in his mom’s desk chair and ask why she had special paper with her name on it. “Because important people like to stand out in their letters,” she’d say. “Why can’t you just use regular paper?” “Because regular paper doesn’t have your name at the top. You can’t feel official if you’re not using official stationery.” Tim thought about that as he spun. “You can if you write it in yourself. All you need is some crayons.” His mom chuckled and ruffled his hair. “I suppose you could do that too.” He can hear his mom’s voice as he reads the letter, recognizes her handwriting in all its fancy loops and swirls. She tells Jack in the letter that she has been hiding a secret from him for years and doesn’t have the guts to tell him in person. Tim skims, tries to pick apart his mom’s long-winded explanations about living in fear of being found out, of the shame that followed her every day. Tim can’t even begin to guess what she could be talking about until finally he sees it, clear as day in black ink. Timothy isn’t your son. He stops. Rereads the sentence. Then again. And again, trying to tempt the words into making some sort of sense. Tim doesn’t know how long he spends staring at those four words, his eyes glazed, before he tentatively starts reading again. Janet talks about how guilty she feels for not confessing this earlier, how she doesn’t want Tim to find out, how sorry she is that Tim isn’t the son Jack wanted him to be. That she disappointed him by giving him Tim instead of the “correct” child. Tim is going to be sick. He throws off the blanket and goes to the gas fireplace across the room, turning it on. He crumples up the letter and throws it in without a second’s hesitation. He watches it catch fire, the flames blackening the corners as they eat away at the letter until it’s no more than ash. This can’t be real, he tells himself. It can’t be. His dad… He knew. Dad knew all this time. They both did. Tim has been walking around, thinking he knew exactly who he was and where he came from. Writing his dad’s name on school forms and calling himself Tim Drake when he’s not even a Drake. Not biologically. How could they hide this from him? Did it never occur to them that Tim should know this kind of vital information? That it might literally reconfigure his entire life? Tim sits there on the rug, staring at the fireplace as the walls crumble around him. He can’t believe they kept this from him. Who doesn’t tell their own son that his genetics aren’t what he thinks they are? That somewhere in the world, there is a person walking around who has no idea he’s got a son somewhere. He probably doesn’t even know that Tim exists. The more Tim thinks about it though, the more it makes an odd sort of sense. His parents have always been distant, always treated Tim like they expected something different every time they looked at him. Like he was so entirely Other that they couldn’t help but be disappointed, no matter what he did or how hard he tried to get them to love him the way other kids’ parents did. He wonders when Jack found the letter. Was it given to him with instructions, or did he stumble upon it one day in Janet’s office? Did he confront her right away, or did he wait a while? Tim thinks back to three years ago when their marriage took its first sudden dip, as if they hit a wall out of nowhere. Could this have been the cause all along? Three years since the secret came out. Three years of arguments bordered by stony silences, flipping back and forth between moods whenever they weren’t on yet another long trip, trying to salvage a failing marriage. Tim used to assume it was his fault that his parents were never home—maybe there was something wrong with him that they didn’t want to see. Now it all makes sense. Jack has never acted like much of a father to Tim in the first place, as if he’s subconsciously known all along that there was something dividing him from his son. Because there was something dividing them, something deep in their DNA. Which, of course, begs the question: If Jack isn’t Tim’s father, who is? Parts of the letter were ripped, the ink smudged in places from what must have been scars of Jack’s anger at finding out his family was built on a lie. If Janet did divulge who Tim’s biological father is, Tim couldn’t find it in the letter. There are only two people in the world who can give Tim the answers he needs, and one of them is dead. The other one is close behind. He’s stuck in limbo. The days after the revelation pass in a haze. A haze of astonishment, silent questions, answers he needs but may never get. Tim keeps waiting for the universe to shift, because he just found out information that changes everything he thought was true about himself. He should be feeling something, right? Maybe it’s because he and his dad never had a real relationship anyway, so there’s nothing to mourn. There’s no deciding moment of what does this change? because there's nothing to change. He and Jack have been living separate lives for a long time now. This revelation just cements something Tim has known for years. He never had a father before. Why should it change anything that he still doesn’t have one now?

[Read the rest on AO3 because this one got kinda long.]