#remember the ten year old with his little brother's body in his school bag

[hussyknee]

I have never felt this kind of bloodlust in my life.

[pea-shooter-brain]

Friendly reminder that the stats show that at least 101 women were murdered in Australia in 2024. That is roughly one murder every three to four days. 2023 it was only 64. And it is so, so unbelievably tragic we have gotten to the point where 64 women, 64 living people with hopes and dreams, can be called “only.”

I live in Australia.

Sometime in November, the body of Isla bell, a nineteen year old girl who had been missing for weeks, was found. The killer is Marat Ganiev. A man named Eyal Yaffe assisted him, and is currently WALKING OUT ON BAIL.

I didn’t know her. But I will always know the way my mum broke down in tears. “They left her in a dump. They killed her and left her in a fucking dump.”

It could have been either of us. We only live a few suburbs away.

Sometime in November, maybe early December, I was left home alone while my family went to the shops so I could look after the dog. I was instructed to keep every door and window shut and locked. After they left, I went and collected every sharp or heavy object that could potentially be used as a weapon and put them all in the bottom drawer of the dishwasher.

Skewers, knives, scissors, metal coat hangers, forks, rolling pins, everything. I then filled a metal water bottle as much as I could while still being able to swing it. I then went and sat on my bed, with the dog, and tried to distract myself.

Why?

Because my mother’s unstable, mentally ill, estranged brother had sent his own damn child death threats, and mentioned us in them. He hit my mother, when they were younger. He told her to kill herself.

He got put into a ward in December. I heard my Nan say she told the doctors she would rather kill him herself then let him out.

I was standing in the kitchen eating banana cake at the time. It was Christmas.

I don’t speak to my dad anymore. He was controlling, narcissistic, he tore my self esteem to shreds whenever he thought he could get away with it. One day he said to me, “I love how your solution to every problem is to be a lazy turd.” I said, “and I love how your solution to every problem is to insult me.” He was bitter about it until I left for the week, and was still bitter when I came back next weekend.

He was dismissive of my mental health. He denied the existence of my disabilities and then complained about textbook symptoms. He treated me like an emotional punching bag and would shit talk me in front of my little brothers, who used to adore me.

I always dreaded the car ride to his house. I always got anxiety that I could feel deep in the pit of my stomach for the entirety of Friday. Because something always happened. There was always some fight, some argument, something that could only leave me guessing if he would blow up or turn a cold shoulder for the next three days.

He would call other drivers retards. I technically fall the umbrella of people who can say it and I still feel disgusting even typing it for educational purposes. He did it so often that I would get anxiety specifically about that happening, because I knew how gross it would make me feel to not say anything about it.

I remember when I was younger, somewhere between ten and thirteen, hearing him say it for the first time. He was on the phone with a friend from work, shit talking some other people from work. I asked him not to say it, because I got called it repeatedly and unceasingly in school. He said he would. He didn’t.

It’s been almost a year since I stopped talking to him. He’s only tried to reach out once, in august. He sent me an email to say happy birthday.

I ignored it.

Violence against women, aggression towards women, hatred of women, it’s all so very, very real. It is insidious, and it is inescapable.

I am sixteen years old, i have had strange boys yell at me to suck their dicks, I’ve cried on a neighbours porch because I thought I was being followed home, I have had such severe anxieties navigating public spaces in broad daylight that I still haven’t been going outside as much as I used to before the pandemic, four years later.

I am sixteen years old, I am too young to have this kind of fear, this kind of anger, this kind of sheer fucking exhaustion. But I do.

And I’ve decided that I refuse to be too young to talk about it.

[hellspawndoodles]

Havin a moment about one of my blorbos, novella under the cut.

Imagine, if you will, that you are Some Poor Bastard living somewhere in the deep south. Your parents used you as their physical and verbal punching bag, and you struggle with both the severe mental illness that runs in your family that no one really seems to want to address or get help for and your deep-rooted trauma. You moved far, far away from the city you grew up in to a dying town in the middle of nowhere with your high school sweetheart and your baby son. Yeah you're pretty far away from your wife's family aka your only support system and the people here are fucking weird, but you've got a good job at the local funeral home and you have a pretty chill group of drinking buddies/confidants now, so it's not all bad.

And then your temper gets worse, and your impulse control goes out the window, and you start treating your little boy worse and worse. You love him but you just keep hurting him. It doesn't get better when you have your second child.

And then you find yourself accomplice to the murder of a ten-year-old child. Well, you were responsible for dumping the body after one of your..."friends" decided the poor kid was a devil and beat him to death, but you know he was alive when you dropped him into the bayou. You felt him stir in your arms, saw his eyelids flutter as he tried to force himself back into consciousness. No one thinks you were involved, there's no evidence to pin on you, but you know.

And then your younger child dies. It was a freak accident, and you weren't there to help him, he was out with his big brother because you'd flown into a barely-coherent rage over something trivial and they were trying to get away from you.

Mere months after that, your older child is killed in a break-in. Once again, you weren't there. You don't remember why-maybe you were in the next town over because their hardware store hadn't shut down like the one back home? Doesn't matter. Both of your baby boys are dead now because you were a violent, temperamental asshole who wasn't there for them when they needed you and thought whiskey was a good substitute for therapy and Zoloft.

On top of that the love of your life's gone completely cuckoo and thinks your children are just away for a while and will be coming back. She's been dusting your older child's room on the regular and leaving little reassuring notes for him to find when he 'comes back'. This is about as fucked-up than that 95 year old grandpa type that was just living with his wife's corpse for two weeks straight a year or so back, maybe more since she's 38 and OBVIOUSLY doesn't have dementia.

You get her checked into a psych ward in the city she grew up in.

You try to live your life as best you can-you start going to church again, you're keeping a journal to process your grief, and you've been doing your damnedest to stop drinking, or at least cut back.

It doesn't help. You're having nightmares-about your wife, your kids, the boy you dumped in the bayou, and, weirdly enough, a pastor and his(?) fucked-up demon son. You're pretty sure your house is haunted. You've been hearing muffled screams and childish giggles and the pitter-patter of little feet that ten years ago would've filled you with joy and sheer paternal love but now it feels like a mockery and you keep seeing little child-sized shadows in the corner of your eye.

All of that is still better than the guilt. Oh, God, the guilt. You've all but killed your family and destroyed the life of that poor single mom a few streets down because that devil child was her kid.

You can't look in the mirror anymore. You only see demons and walking corpses when you try.

Well, your son's old baseball bat still has some use, then.

It's been months. The voices and shadows and nightmares won't stop. You can't take it anymore. You can't live with yourself. Not with everything you've done. Your parents were right. You're horrible, through and through. You don't deserve the happy life you tried to make for yourself.

But you can make all the guilt and hurt and fear go away. You know that now.

You just need to pull the trigger.

[ihopeineverloseyou19]

Getting older was never a reason to celebrate

tw: small mentions of abuse, blood, loneliness, self-loathing

words: 1.2K 

He wasn't considered important enough that people would remember it, remember him. Who he was. He didn’t care about it, so why it had to hurt so much, when his family didn’t either? @hotch-central @jaspxr @masterwords

He wasn't considered important enough that people would remember it, barely his school classmates did, so why did it hurt so much when his parents barely acknowledge that day? When they didn’t remember even the important things. His mother always forgot some food from the list his father so carefully created wherever the both of them had to go to buy some, for the meals he required to eat, his father needed everything on that list. Every item was important. If that happened, well, there would be a fight, it would start as a warning as Aaron’s father inspected their shopping bags, never spending more money than he gave them.

Money was tight in their family. Money, Aaron thought, was why he never got nice things, like clothes or presents on his birthdays. The occasional years hir mother remembered it. His father didn’t care about him, about his son growing up, Aaron learned to do the same, following his steps, not caring about his clothes not fitting correctly, he had worse problems than those, people not simply knowing when his birthday was, it was indifferent to him. He didn’t like celebrating it much, so why would he feel saddened when his other classmates would bring in something (most times a home cooked cake made from their mother). And the birthday wishes would spill out momentarily?

Forgetfulness was nothing new in his home, he should have been accustomed to his parents not knowing it. His mother didn’t even remember how old he was most of the times, even after the bad days, when she could not get up from bed, when her whole body ached, because his father had been more savage than other times, when blood was involved, his mother didn’t leave their bed. Aaron learned long ago not to bother her, not knocking on the door asking for presents, wondering where the cake he was made for seven consecutive years was, why his mother had not wished him a happy birthday and woken him up to a breakfast full of his favorite sweets when his father had gone to work. Why did he feel so empty on a day of celebration of his own birth? 

Sean came around faster than he could notice, ten years after his parents stopped seeing him, noticing him around. With Sean, they had a reason, he was not invisible to them, now, the new baby was the excuse, his father even helped, which was a rare occurrence. His father, who never gave a hand with anything, a mistake he committed when he yelled why his father had never had to put the table, Aaron slept with his first black eye. The first of presents he would get from his father, little marks across his skin that he didn’t ask for.

Every time his mother looked at his younger son, something was breaking down in Aaron, parts of a childhood he didn’t get to live. Parts where Sean was the only protagonist, out of the two boys, the one who had a normal life, between those four walls. His parents marriage was not bad for him, after all, his father had change for the better, he stopped touching his mother, and he didn’t feel the need to hit every moving object in his home, without counting Aaron, maybe it was what bothered him, that he keep immobile when the fist came to him, still, when the punches were coming his way, angry that he could not protect himself. But who could he? It was the first time he received any sort of emotional touch from him. He had to take everything he could, before his mother found out, before anyone found out. 

His little brother was different, he noticed it right away, from the continuous interest he always had on him. He was special to him, someone he had to protect through every fight his parents picked at night, tucking him in, later when plates were broken and the front door slammed close Aaron would go down to help his mother clean some of her bloody wounds, bandaging her just how he was taught, checking first if his little brother was asleep, checking if he had noticed a change in their family.

Sean, the first person that had cared to learn about his birthday, the first cake he had in eight years, his brother had saved up his monthly allowance to buy a chocolate frozen cake, it was the cheapest he could find. Aaron knew because he did the same thing once for his father's birthday, when his mother could not get up from bed. One of those days that Aaron was left alone. Those kind of bad days where he had learned to take care of himself. He knew that if her mother didn't have everything perfect for his father's birthday, she would spend more than three consecutive days in bed. If he didn’t want that to happen, he had to act quickly. Every movement came calculated after the first time, long sleeves were a necessity wherever he left his house, with those clothes, no questions were asked, as for the fights, they happened in every marriage, it was completely normal. For him at least it was. The only thing he could find that his father and him loved, was the love for chocolate. 

Now it was different. Everything changed when he stepped out of his house, leaving his little brother behind, because he would have been well taken care of. They didn’t have a problem with remembering he even existed, or his clothes size. His mother would never mistake his age or buy him clothes too little to fit, because he had grown out unexpectedly when he was eleven. Sean was not going to live through that, as much as it hurt him to admit it, his father loved him, more than he did Aaron. 

Old birthdays were not something he was proud to celebrate, even acknowledging that he was getting older bothered him, perhaps it was the lack of childhood he spent trying to be everything but a child, always vigilant of his father next blow towards his mother, or searching for some place away from home that he could feel safe enough to be himself. He lived being indifferent to his parents, he wondered if it was something he could recover from someday. 

 New birthdays, on the other hand, were everything he had desired to have as a child, happiness had to be the first thing he came up with everytime one of his colleagues reminded him that ‘tomorrow is your birthday’. If he could pick something he would cherish forever, it would have to be Jack, running towards his and Haley’s bed, little feet tip towing against their bedroom floor as he jumped in him, plastering him with kisses because it was his birthday, and the gift he received every year from him, he was convinced that they would need a bigger fridge. Aaron appreciated his own family, more than they would ever know, and even Sean, who was there every of his birthdays, with a yearly phone call. If he was lucky, his mother would also be on the other side, wishing what he had wanted to listen to since he was nine years old, nothing more than ‘happy birthday’.

[jiyongssi]

that time when kinn anakinn theerapanyakul had his first crush

the back door of the masserati slams shut behind a fuming second-in-line heir of the theerapanyakul family.

chan keeps his flinch perfectly contained by focusing his stare right ahead where other kids are bustling out of the school gate, bags too big for their little bodies, almost dragging them back and down

every single one of them prim and proper with tailored little suits and skirts exhibiting their wealth. except then he starts spotting a trickling of cheap cottons and broken thread bags and his brows furrow before he remembers the recent interdistrict event being organized for this whole week

behind him, his newly dismissed young master is quietly angry; tiny lips forced flat just as his glare burns the entrance of the school. if not for the heat of his stare, no one would know young master kinn is angry at all; product of years of careful training.

it breaks chan's heart honestly.

"someone's pissed," the youngest theerapanyakul states casually, not taking his eyes off the scribbling he's been busy with since he hopped into the car.

"mind your own business," anakinn bites out.

chan shifts the gear, steering into the road. part of him prays this journey will be calm but most of him has resigned for the oncoming turbulence.

just as he predicted -

"i am minding my business. you're my brother so you're my business." little kim shrugs too calmly for his age.

too cool, too collected, too... kim, chan notes with a soft sigh.

he tries to bury most of their banter as background noises but a certain word catches his attention and thenforth, chan eavesdrop, if not for curiosity, for intel then.

"didn't you learn in first grade to be nice to people if you want them to like you? or do they only teach that to smart kids like me?"

chan watches the hindmirror as anakinn's hand curls into a tiny fist. he was four years old when he last brawled like a normal child. at ten, anakinn is beyond shouting and retaliation. chan grieves for his twenty when even his emotions will probably be buried.

but that's not now because a ten years old kinn still blushes in his furiosity and admits albeit softly that he did give that 'brat' a present. even offered to show him around the school.

"oh ho ho!" kimhan giggles. his attention finally leaving that pink book of his. "so you got rejected then?"

"shut up!" kinn snaps. chan's so surprised he immediately looks towards the youngest expecting him to.. he doesn't know, do what kids do like cry perhaps.

but once again the theerapanyakul surprises him when kim simply cocks his head to left, regards his elder brother for a whole minute before simply returning to his book.

"what's his name."

he, chan notes. probably someone kinn admires and wants under his wing.

"not telling you"

"okay. which school then?"

kinn makes an annoyed sound, turning his whole body away and towards the window. chan's lip quivers in amusement.

young master kimhan is like a dog with a bone; "come on, i won't tell anyone. i don't even know who is it. we don't go to the same school. kinnnn...,"

and it's that last babyish drawl which gets him what he wants. something in chan settles with relief. kinn will be anything when he grows up but this part of him; that tenderness he reserves for his loved ones, chan doubts that will ever be robbed.

"porsche," kinn sighs, then immediately after, "do not tell pa. or ma. or anyone at all."

"what about tankhun?"

kinn hesitates before he says, "if he doesn't ask, don't tell. I'll tell him myself. If he asks," he nods mostly to himself.

"okay.. So which school?" kim prods, his precious pink book long abandoned for informations.

"i don't remember what school. but he's competing in taekwondo. he's very good. he never lost even one match. they say he'd been to bigger match like the whole of thailand or something."

"national level," kim nods knowingly.

for a second kinn pauses, scrutinizing his baby brother but continues with a shake to his head when kim pushes him to go on.

at the driver's seat, chan deliberately slows down the speed and keeps his ears sharp

anakinn tells about his approach and offer. how he waited till porsche finished his match before going over to give him a can of ovaltine he purchased from the cafe. he recounts how porsche looked him up and down and just brushed past him like kinn was a nobody. how half of the school saw that and how tay keeps teasing him about it and how he's pissed he has to go back to school tomorrow to face that all over again.

once the story's ended, with it bleeding out most of kinn's anger, young kim taps his chin thoughtfully and humms.

"i think you should have said, 'it will be my honour to show you around' rather than 'it will be your honour if i show you around'. i think he thought you were.. hmm.. what is that word that starts with p and has that omp sound to it, uncle chan?"

chan panics. albeit for a second, to be picked out like that. cunning little kimhan...

"pompous?" he offers as stoicly as he's been trained.

"yes!" kimhan cheers, "i learned that yesterday, it means like arrogant. thank you, uncle chan"

"i wasn't pom - whatever that is." kinn visibly seethes.

chan adjusts his collar, feeling tight around his neck

"no, but you sound like one if you go around telling people it would be their honour to be with you." kimhan tells him like he's reading a script. "maybe you could try again tomorrow."

kinn scoffs, but kim continues

"tell him you like to be friends. Don't use the word honour. It's confusing,"

Anakinn bristles, "What's so confusing about honour. We're ten years old. If he don't understand what honour means, he best not be my friend at all"

to chan's bewilderement, kimhan shakes his little head in the exact fashion his father does when confronted by his own brother and says, "oh kinn.. only god can save 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.

[lantsovsupremacist]

I was wondering if you could do a Nikolai fic w a Tidemaker reader who works for him on the Volkvony ?

whenever i read nikolai stuff, i imagine his girl to be a tide maker. so, of course it’s my honor to make this happen 🙏🙏 also i got carried away and there will most certainly be a part 2 🤪🤪

mijn dochter: my daughter (i went with dutch because that’s what kerch is supposedly influenced by)!

nikolai lantsov: mirror ball

it all began out of desperation, as most things in your life often did.

born into a family of ten living on the farmlands of kerch, there were always too many mouths to feed. despite the nature of your family’s occupation, whatever could be harvested or slain for food often ended up sent to the markets to try and keep up with the land payments. it was this necessity to help your family (an expectation of yourself as the middle child as much as your younger siblings) that kept you from attending school the day testing occurred. considered the bottom of the lowest class, nobody deemed you important enough to reschedule a test or even find you a spot for the next year’s round.

you believed the position of the testers. it was not because you felt particularly unimportant, just that there was no history of grisha in your family or few you had ever come into contact with. in fact, watching the older kids get tested was your only example of grisha power. a lack of suitable education did not help your case. so, you disregarded the event or lack thereof quickly after it passed.

however, when you pulled the tide in to help the withering crops survive one summer—out of sheer desperation—you could no longer ignore the possibility. the land only needed to close in to the sound by a few feet in order for the water to saturate the fields properly. it could have been a trick of a weary mind. you might not have even realized what had happened if not for your father’s startled gasp.

he muttered a single word, grisha. anything else was unintelligible under his breath—likely a slew of curses. he had even less of an education than you and your siblings. for months, you pleaded for your parents to pretend as if nothing had changed. your oldest brother knew the word for it: tidemaker. one of his best friend’s at school, their older sister had been one. but, she had been taken away. you could not imagine leaving your fields and the sun that hung above them.

you did not want to be a danger to your family, what with the way in which discovered grisha were treated in kerch’s cities. you could only hide for so long. in addition to this worry, you believed by using this resource, you could find better pay to send home. it was not the second army you desired to join but perhaps, some freelance work.

the volkvony was much larger than the scattered fishing boats dotting the coast. even those you saw rarely, the docks being miles outside your town. the pirateer’s vessel and those occupying it radiated power. the reminder of your own ability did little to ease your anxiety.

you mother’s final parting words rang in your head, and you held onto the echo for as long as you could.

“you are a fierce force to be reckoned with, mijn dochter.”

right now with your knees knocking and shoulders shaking, you hardly felt it. your mother often remarked you showed courage in different ways. you might have paled at standing up to the bully that had broken your sister’s arm as a child and allowed your eldest brother to physically retaliate, but your calm nature quieted her cries as you held her gently, waiting for help. you knew that even when he did not verbally express it, your father still appreciated how you took it upon yourself to care for the little ones, handle the crises at home. you made life work for everybody.

your littlest brother, espen, would think you were strong despite the obvious nerves riddling your form. before you left, he hugged you goodbye with all of the strength his two-year-old body could muster, imbuing you with it. his childlike magic satiated any apprehension that came your way on the voyage to the boat’s docking in ketterdam—a city’s whose reputation limited your visits to three occasions in eighteen years. and when it faded, because it always did, you held tight to baby noa’s fairly like giggles, each one of her accompanied smiles locked carefully away in your heart.

even with living a life largely locked on land, the water brought a unique sense of calm to your restless spirit. to any onlooker, your closed eyes and deep breaths by the banks could be attributed to the anticipation of adventure. however, anyone who truly knew your heart would understand the greater impact of the tides. they might even notice the slight curl of your lip or scrunch of your nose, the actions of concentration supporting the delicate ripples of waves on the edge of the sound.

a voice from behind you nearly caused you to jump right off of the dock. one might think that growing up in a household of ten, you would be painfully aware of your surroundings. that could not be father from the case. you did not intend to walk through life stuck in your own head, but it was a habit.

“we’re boarding now,” the same person spoke again, “you’re our new tidemaker, right?”

“that’s right,” you annunciated softly with a nod of your head.

now having stepped forward, you identified the figure to be a girl a few years your elder. with short cropped hair and a glint in her eyes, she intimidated you. however, her tone was kind and seemed welcoming.

“i’m tamar and that,” she extended a hand to point, “is my brother toyla. heartrenders.”

you nodded again, rolling your lips into your mouth. following behind her, you strung your bag over your shoulder and avoided the more worn planks on the dock. the wood was speckled with age.

“how long have you been in the harbor?” you questioned, genuine curiosity in your words.

“only a few days,” she replied without turning her head, opting to keep her gaze ahead as she weaved through the crowd, “ketterdam intrigues sturmhond, but he never keeps us here for too long.”

recognizing the captain’s name who had graciously offered you a position onboard the volkvolny only two days prior, you continued after tamar. you remembered his crooked jaw and nose that had obviously been broken before. however, the ease of his smile and light in his eyes gave you the push to accept. he had approached you in the spot which you had stood only this morning and caught you in a similar position. he had been uniquely attentive.

the way he revealed that he had caught onto your ability with the ripples in the shallow water still caught you by surprise and perhaps, amusement. he had asked you to help him skip a rock. you smiled at the memory now, a small but authentic one only for yourself.

“are all of the hands grisha?” you asked another question, careful to lower your voice.

home to various brothels, pleasure houses, and gambling dens, as well as gangs, ketterdam could trap grisha in servitude if they were not vigilant. this and the general boisterous nature of the city were largely your reasons for avoiding it. you preferred the tranquility and predictability of the countryside, where all that stood out among the plains were the occasional rolling hill and far away slopes of mountain.

your older brother coen studied in the most acceptable part of the city on a scholarship, the only one of your siblings (including yourself) that showed enough intellectual promise to merit pursuing an education over farm work. the only other member of your family to dare encounter the barrel was lotte. given she was now estranged and likely involved in gang work, her possible presence did little to soothe you.

“oh, no,” tamar answered, “in fact, most aren’t. we try and keep it quiet.”

humming in response, you used the handrail to board the ship. you took a deep breath to quell any remaining anxiety. once your feet touched the hull, there would be no room for fear or at least, any expression of it. you were used to keeping to yourself, your head down and hands working.

the salt air filled your lungs easily, and you were greedy for more. it left a pleasant enough taste in your mouth. you realized you were content here and wondered if you might even find happiness on the ship.

after showing you to the quarters you would share with two other girls, you straightened your cot and placed your bag underneath it. you made quick work of braiding your hair back, pacing the room as you did so. there was work to be done, and you would be sure to see to it.

grounding yourself to steady the spinning of the room, you faced your things one more time and headed out to the deck above. for once, you were surrounded by people like you. while this did not quite give you confidence, there was a semblance of reassurance flickering in your heart.

you no longer needed to be perfect for everyone else. though your family was still largely your responsibility as they would receive a portion of your wages, you no longer had to pace your interactions with each member. if you wanted to, you could be as loud and lively as the rest of the crew surely was. scrunching your nose at the thought, you stepped by an empty crate and up the stairs. you liked being quiet. it gave you the headspace to observe others.

a long life of making the lives of your younger siblings and parents easier gave you little time to think for yourself or about yourself. maybe this adventure was all a farce to finally please yourself, to learn to believe in yourself, but you had forced it to be about the others. always placing the focus away. that was an easier story to believe rather than accepting that maybe, you were doing something for yourself and maybe, that was okay.

perhaps it should have made you nervous, but you were a shy version of excited at the idea of testing out each variant of yourself to see which one you believed in most. you had shown everyone else what they wanted or needed to see for many years. you needed to live for yourself now.

you had a right to the sea and you were determined to take advantage of it.

[yoonpobs]

to the touch | pjm

pairing: park jimin x oc (ft. brother yoongi)

genre: mutual pining, fluff, cute crushes, brothers best friend

warnings: JIMIN that's it

words: 5, 216

summary: he's back

“You’re … you’re here?” You squeak and it’s not one of your best moments even if you were sure Yoongi would argue otherwise and that you rarely had average moments, to begin with. But there was something about spontaneity and surprise that threw you off in the worst way possible and made your brain short-circuit to the point where you’re unable to throw coherent thoughts together. And this was definitely a surprise, one that you’d never expected to happen because—

“I am,” Jimin says curtly, tossing you a firm nod of his head when he pushes you aside and steps into your apartment like he’s been year a thousand times. But in reality, it’s his first time standing at your doorstep, first time knocking on your door, and definitely the first step he’s ever had the chance to get a glimpse of how your living room looks like.

You’re still gaping at the entrance with the door open and you’re sure if any of your neighbors were to step out of their homes, they’d just see a lone girl outside that looked a little too unnerved to bother. When you snap out of it and turn your body to face your visitor, he’s already made himself comfortable on your couch and it’s hard to piece together the fact that Jimin was quite in fact in your living room, and lounging on your couch, staring at your television like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“W-What—how?” You croak because there are about ten million different thoughts running through your head but the most pressing one is how Jimin looked … different.

A good difference, for sure. He’s always been handsome and unreasonably so. Especially with the way that he’s dyed his hair back to black and the gentle fluff of how it lays atop his head. You note that he still kept his style despite him going MIA for three years and wore slacks that shaped his legs (and butt) beautifully with a casual shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants. It was unfair how effortlessly good-looking he was on a spontaneous occasion while you looked anything but, especially with your sweats and old tank top.

But Jimin had always been a little hard to read. Terrifying and brassy all at once but never obstructive—although you’d argue that his presence was the obstruction as it is of how distracted you feel whenever he was around you years ago. It’s like you never learned how to accommodate his presence because he happened to fill every space with just his body even if he wasn’t that tall.

“I thought I’d pay a visit. Your brother gave me your address.” He says, finally turning his head to face you, and its still blank like every expression you remember made towards you. You expected nothing more or nothing less than the way he stares you over and makes you feel like the outsider in your own home.

“Yoongi …” You grit, cursing your brother mentally and hoping he’d make use of that stupid sibling telepathy power he claims he has to receive your gripe.

You clear your throat as you awkwardly shuffle closer towards the couch and hover awkwardly by the arm of the sofa to keep your distance. It’s been years and it’s still a little unfamiliar to see Jimin right in front of you, and not someone you kept at the back of your mind.

“You could’ve called …” You say softly while fiddling with your thumbs. Jimin just raises an eyebrow at you and you feel stupid for saying that already.

Some things don’t change and it’s proven when your heart still beats the same when he’s around you. You cursed at yourself for being weak-willed because you thought time would help you get over your silly crush on Jimin but you also long acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t just a crush. It was more.

You hated falling for the cliches of crushing on your brother’s best friend, especially one that was just emotionally reserved and detached ninety percent of the time. The only conversations you remember having with Jimin were the ones that you were blushing at him when he looked at you a little longer than usual, or when he drove you to and from school when Yoongi left for university.

But then he disappeared, without saying goodbye and you only found out from his parents that he got into a dance program abroad and packed his things and left. Obviously, twenty-year-old you was devastated because you somehow convinced yourself that he enjoyed your presence even if he was huffing and puffing every five minutes when you’d fall into a ramble of your own.

He changed his number and he wasn’t a social media person so you had no idea what he was doing or how he was, besides the occasional mention of his name in conversations you had with your brother. It sucked. Majorly. Because you really liked him even if he was cold because you knew that Jimin was a good person. A cold and shitty person wouldn’t pat you on your head before your wisdom teeth extraction and mumble it’s okay if he wasn’t kind.

“The place is nice.” He ignores your statement and glances around your apartment and you feel smaller. You do feel a little relieved that he approved of the place, and you did spend hours browsing through catalogues and going through roommates until you decided that this was perfect. Granted, it was a little pricey but you valued comfort and a decent workplace to really get you motivated.

“Thank you.” You mumble, still shifting on the balls of your feet and Jimin just raises an eyebrow at your impersonal stance. You know he wouldn’t point it out because he wasn’t that kind of guy, but his face often spoke for him so you swallowed all the concerns you had and took a seat at the edge of the sofa, as far away from him as possible.

“Do you live alone?” He asks. You’re about to respond but he doesn’t let you.

“It’s dangerous if you do. Do you really just answer the door for anyone without checking who it is? You’ll get yourself into some serious trouble if you aren’t careful.” He chides you.

You want to scoff at him because you were an adult and you’ve learnt a few things along the road to adulthood. Jimin was always a little on edge most of the time and you knew he was just bad at expressing his emotions so you never faulted him for it. But now, you were a little older and not as naive—but unfortunately still very much into him.

“God Jimin, it’s fine—”

The door opens and both your heads immediately turn to the source, and Jimin is sharp with his movements and you try to not allow your heart to flutter when he tugs you closer to him and hides your body with his own as if he thought it was an intruder. But you knew better, so you knew it was—

“Tae. You’re back early.” You greet your roommate who only eyes the man on the couch who has you situated behind him like he was your personal shield. His bag is tugged over his shoulder and you see a few of his art supplies threatening to fall out so you hop off the couch to help him with his belongings, and Jimin’s gaze just burns harder onto the back of your skull.

When you’re close enough, Taehyung leans in and gives a brief glance over at Jimin who is still piercing him with a fierce gaze.

“Why is your booty call staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens?” Taehyung whisper yells and you glare at him, pinching his hip because just because he thought he was being quiet didn’t mean that he could easily get rid of his naturally loud voice.

“That is not my booty call!” You respond equally as agitated, “That’s … Jimin.”

Taehyung’s eyes bulge out of his socket when he looks over your shoulder once more to still see Jimin glaring at the two of you.

“Why is he so fucking scary? You said he was nice!” Taehyung hisses.

“He is nice!” You weakly defend, “He’s just … scary looking?”

You know it doesn’t convince Taehyung because he’s sighing and dropping his belongings to the floor, offering Jimin as sincere of a smile as he can muster even though you’re fully aware that he’s terrified of the man on your living room couch.

“Hi! I didn’t know _____ was having guests over. I’m Taehyung.” He smiles brightly at said guest but Jimin just blinks at his cordiality and then looks over to you.

“Is he your boyfriend?” The question throws you off guard and you can tell that Taehyung even more terrified when Jimin completely ignores his presence even though he was the tallest person in the room.

You splutter for a response even if the answer to that was obvious. But Jimin had a shitty way of interrogating people, even if it probably would work in legal settings because he was just terrifying enough for you to stumble over your words and make you look guiltier than you were.

“Unfortunately not.” Taehyung thinks he’s saving you when he lightly jokes with Jimin. And you want to facepalm because Jimin was aloof and impartial to everything, and had horrible skills of reading the room because you were sure that Jimin thought that Taehyung wanted to get in your pants.

“Tae, would you excuse us for a second?” You smile stiffly at Taehyung who is quick to oblige as he darts into his room.

Jimin now has his arms folded across his chest in a manner that makes him look more hostile, but you knew him well enough that you suppose he just had a lot of questions.

“Did you really have to be like that?” You ask irritably as Jimin scoffs at you.

“Please, do enlighten me. All I did was ask you a simple question, which you couldn’t even answer. What was that about?” Jimin responds equally as displeased but you had so many questions and you didn’t need to deal with his mini tantrum right now, especially between the walls of your own home.

“Don’t turn this on me! You turned up to my house unannounced after three years of no contact and you expect me to bend at your will? What do you take me for? A puppet?” You retaliate with petulancy and you can tell Jimin is slowly getting more annoyed by the second but won’t blow up just yet. Or probably because you had another person in the house.

“Am I not allowed to visit?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.

You scoff at his audacity because Jimin was seriously so bad at reading emotions. You weren’t even sure why you liked him but your heart never made reasonable decisions for you.

“We haven’t spoken in years, Jimin!” You throw your hands in the air, “I didn’t even know where you were or what you were doing because you disappeared like you were running away from a crime!”

“Did I need to update you on my whereabouts?” You know his question is genuine even though it was posed a little rough and you want to pull at your hair because obviously, you wanted to know! Jimin was the person you spent the most time with, outside of school, and one day he wasn’t anymore.

“Of course! I thought we were—I thought … why did you just disappear?” For some reason, it was hard to say that you and Jimin were friends either because the only reason why he’d ever tolerate you in the first place was that he was a good friend to Yoongi and you were just someone that came with it by association. He never outwardly said that he hated spending time with you but he never said he enjoyed it either.

Jimin raises an eyebrow and stands up, and you notice that he still towers over you. He walks towards you slowly, and you feel all the hotter under his intense scrutiny that you just want to retreat to your bedroom and forget this ever happened.

“You don’t need to know.” He says and you feel yourself deflate, “I wanted to visit because your brother’s worried about you.”

The confession just annoys you because you knew to a certain extent that Jimin wouldn’t be here from … wherever he was … if it was only for your brother. He had to give a shit somewhere deep down in him enough to make an effort to get your address from your brother, then turn up on your doorstep unannounced with his usual impassioned stare.

“Oh fuck off, will you? I’m not a little girl anymore. I can take care of myself.” You bite back.

Jimin shoots you an unimpressed stare at your snappishness and he won't lie and say that he was pleasantly surprised to see you after a long time. You were always pretty, in an unconventional way, he supposes. You never made an effort to look nice but just did with the way you approached life, even when you were younger. But now that you were standing in front of him with a bite that you didn't have when he left, he's intrigued.

"You weren't so rude before I left." He smirks at you.

His gaze also makes you burn and you avoid his eyes when it searches for yours. You hate that his tone makes you feel funny and that you wanted him to be a little mean.

"Yeah, well—that's what happens when you don't see someone after three years with no contact or notice. They change. They get a little annoyed because someone is just too emotionally constipated to ever make any effort to keep in touch." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Why are you throwing a hissy fit? Needed me to keep you company?" He prompts.

You flush but still glare at him.

"Whatever, Jimin. I just would've appreciated it if you called. Or at least have done something to let me know that you were alive." You mutter.

Somehow, he's managed to cage you in with his body against the back of the sofa, and your breath hitches when you feel his broad chest pressed on yours. You didn't realise it happened until he places his arms by your side, effectively leaving you with no room to leave. You gulp because this is the closest you've ever been to Jimin and you feel dizzy. He smells fresh like laundry and flowers. It's a huge juxtaposition to his demeanour, but he smells good and you want to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

"Why would I? You're Yoongi's sister. Not my girlfriend." He smirks.

You huff and roll your eyes. The reminder stings a little and you know he's baiting you.

"So? Were we not at least friends?" You snap.

He wants to laugh because you're obviously annoyed at the casual way he referred to you as Yoongi's little sister. You're frowning but attempting to pretend that it didn't bother you.

Jimin would be lying if he said he was never interested. Because he was, undoubtedly so. But back then when you were still navigating your way at the beginning of adulthood with Yoongi constantly breathing down his neck, he would have never done anything to compromise his friendship with your brother; or lead you on. But now you were standing in front of him, soft and sweet with a little edge to you that draws him in.

"Do you usually have crushes on your friends?" He pushes.

Your eyes widen and snap up to look at his teasing expression. His smirk is apparent against the rest of his face and you feel absolutely mortified that he's so close to you when he called you out.

"W-What? A crush? I didn't have a crush on you!" You rebuff him with a stuttery voice and you weakly try to push him away.

But he locks you in position with his hands around your wrist as he leans down and crowds you further with his presence.

"You didn't?" He feigns hurt, then he pulls away abruptly and you're immediately chasing his warmth, "Shame. I would've liked that a lot."

You gape at him when he shuffles away, putting some distance between the two of you as he dusts his hands on his slacks, giving you a curt smile; one that never reached his eyes but that was still Jimin being friendly.

"Y-You what ...?" You squeak.

Jimin shrugs and walks towards your door and you're half-terrified and half-relieved at the prospect of him leaving. But you're more terrified because you don't know if you'll ever see him again and with your current interaction you don't think you'll ever get over him.

"Usually a cute girl crushing on me would be a huge ego boost ... but you didn't, so ..." He trails off.

You bite your lips as you play with your hands. You know he's teasing you and you didn't know when he's gotten so forward, or good at this game. But you suppose Jimin has always been charming too, even if he was bad at emotions. He was good at playing them. And the way he rakes his eyes over your body only to bite his lip makes you burn in want.

He's about to turn the knob of your door but you reach out to grab his wrist before your mind can tell you it's a bad idea.

"W-What if I ... what if I ..." You mumble, hands wrapped loosely around his wrist as he turns around, leaning against the door the way boys do that was super hot for no reason.

"Speak up, bunny."

The nickname only makes you blush harder because it reminded you of all the times he's ever called you that stupid childhood nickname that somehow followed you up until adulthood. But you had to admit the way that Jimin uses it makes you feel ...warm. Like you want him to call you bunny for whatever reason he does so.

"WhatifIdid ...?" You mutter quickly and softly that Jimin leans in to get a better listen, also prompting you to speak louder.

"Couldn't hear you." He sing-songs.

You grit your teeth and swallow your pride because even after three years, you were soft and pliant for Park Jimin even if he was hot to the touch. You just wanted to please him.

"What if I did?" You say a little louder, braver, with determined eyes, "What if I did have a crush on you?"

He grins at you in Jimin fashion that was still a little reserved but warm because you knew him. You knew that was what he wanted to hear. So, he rests his body against the door and gestures his finger in a come-hither motion to get you to step closer, which you oblige. It should've been offensive that he could summon you so easily, but Jimin was a lot of things but he would never take advantage of your passiveness.

"I don't know. What would you have done if I hadn't left? Play friends? Family maybe?" He teases.

You scrunch your nose at the prospect of playing family with him because you've heard that phrase way too many times. Your parents at one point kept on saying how you had two older brothers instead of one because Jimin was always there, but they were blissfully unaware of your crush and the way you'd frown at the suggestion.

"We would've hung out more ..." You mumble.

Jimin snorts but cocks his head for you to continue.

"What's the point of this?" You huff, shutting your eyes when you can feel his gaze on you.

"You tell me. You were the one with the crush."

You want to correct him and say am the one with the crush, but you bite your tongue.

"You're the one who wants to know." You respond with indignation.

He chuckles, low and deep before he tilts your chin upwards with his index finger.

"You're still a little girl, aren't you ______?" You think it's the first time Jimin has called your name the entire time he's been here and you almost whine with the sultry look he's giving you.

Jimin applauds his self-control because you were a sight to behold. Even if you were in sweats and a tank, with your glasses drooping slightly down your nose and tangled hair, you still were so appealing even if you didn't know. You looked comfortable, homey and it did make Jimin burn with an ugly monster to know that 'Tae' could see you like this daily.

"Am not." You growl, but he only thinks you look like an angry bunny.

"You are. You don't know how to ask for things, hm?" He hums, tracing a finger up your jaw to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I so do know how to ask for things that I want. I do it all the time." You retort petulantly like you had a point to prove but Jimin only chuckles darkly.

"Then what do you want right now?"

Jimin's question is expected but it also throws you off-guard.

"R-Right n-now?" You stutter.

He tuts as if he expected your bewildered and shocked expression.

"When else but now, bunny?" He whispers as his gaze has you locked in a trance when your eyes dart to his lips when he drags his tongue over it. You're entrapped in him because his mouth suddenly looked really inviting.

"I really wanna ..." You mumble, ears flushing a pretty shade of red and you lean into Jimin's hand when he cradles your cheek gently.

Jimin was capable of being gentle, even though he chose not to. But he never was, though there was something about you that made his territorial, made him want to fight. He didn't know when he started feeling this way but he supposed it was a flurry of emotions and the accumulation of the times he's spent with you throughout the years. Three years didn't do him justice and only made him think of you more. He knew he was hard to read, and frankly even harder to understand. Jimin also knew that you were fully aware of this fact. But that didn't deter you in trying to get to know him, to prick yourself against all his edges that were harder to accept.

You were sweet and naive, a type of person that Jimin would usually scoff at. But your one-dimensional and idealistic view of the world was fresh to him, even if that meant you were living in your head most of the time. It never took away from the fact that you were kind and understanding. The type of person that cracked all of Jimin's harshness made him want to try.

But it didn't mean he wasn't going to have his fun. He liked seeing you like this, gentle and warm, close to him as you look at him with a hazy expression.

"Wanna do what?" He prods, reaching his hand to the back of your hair to tug your face closer to his, but maintaining enough distance to prompt you to make the first move.

Jimin would do it. But he wanted to be sure that you wanted this, and not the idea of him. Sure, he was giving you hints and nudging you, but he also was aware of the fact that you'd never say or do anything that you didn't want. You were always clear-cut about this type of thing.

"You know ... that ... thing ..." You mumble, shifting on your feet as he glances down to your face.

You still looked unsure, but you leaned into his hold regardless, and Jimin took that as a good sign. You just need a little push.

"You know I'm not that bright. You need to tell me, bunny." He says gently.

You can't stop the small whimper in the back of your throat at the nickname and it's taking everything in Jimin's willpower to not take you against this wall. He would, but you deserved sweet things and he wanted to try be that for you.

"I ... I wanna ..." You whisper, "Wanna ... kiss you."

You clutch his t-shirt in his hands and when you glance up he's grinning widely as if he's won the lottery.

He nods his head ever so softly, and you take that as a cue to lean in.

When you do kiss him, you already feel your knees buckling because it's like everything you dreamed and more. Jimin was the right amount of assertive and gentle that makes you chase his mouth even if you were pressed up against him. He takes the lead eventually when his hand cups your jaw to angle your mouth deeper into his, and your body flush against his.

You feel like a teenager again having your first kiss, but it may as well be because you've always wondered what it was like to share your first kiss with Jimin back in high school.

"Is that all?" He whispers against your lips, but before you can respond—

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" You hear Taehyung squeak and that makes you pull away from Jimin, highly embarrassed to be caught making out with him against your door like a horny teenager.

You want to curse at Taehyung but he's already ducking into the kitchen before you can get any words out.

Jimin doesn't look affected, if anything, he looks pleased. The moment you shared a clear testament of who you belonged to and Jimin loved the fact of people knowing it was him.

When you look at Jimin, you're equally parts flushed from the kiss but giddy too. You give him a shy smile, and Jimin just chuckles lowly at your bashfulness.

"I'll see you around, ______," Jimin smirks at you when he reaches for the doorknob to leave. You follow him out, wanting a little more privacy even if it was in the hallway of your apartment complex.

When Jimin steps out and with you behind him, you swing on your feet as he observes your next actions. You clear your throat, even though you were confused and glad—because that was the closest thing you could get from Jimin that was affection so you'd take it.

"So ... what does this ..." You mumble, before shaking your head.

Jimin raises an eyebrow.

"What did I say about asking for what you want?" He berates you as if he was speaking to a child, but his tone is still curt and a little detached, but very like Jimin. You know that it's him and you like that anyways.

"Don't make me say it ... it's already embarrassing as it is ..." You whine, burying your head into his t-shirt.

Jimin welcomes the sudden closeness and pats you softly on the head. It's a little stiff because he still isn't used to physical affection that wasn't 'intimate', but he did say he would try for you.

"Again: I'm not that bright." He teases.

You roll your eyes, but then bite your lips when you see he's waiting for a response.

"... what does this mean for us?" You ask softly.

Jimin smiles at you and decides to grant you a gentle kiss to your forehead. A kiss that was so domestic and soft that you feel your heart soar.

"Check your phone." Is all he says when he waves you goodbye, as you stare at him dumbly, heart still fluttering and cheeks burning.

When you return back into your home, you lean against your door as you press a hand to your chest to feel the way your heart beats rapidly against it. You feel weak in the knees but so blissful that you let out a squeal into the palm of your hands.

Once you've calmed down, and offered Taehyung a look that said you'll explain later—you rush to check your phone, only to smile at what lies on the screen.

Unknown Number [17:21]: hi bunny

Unknown Number [17:21]: save my contact

Unknown Number [17:21]: make sure that when people see it they'll know you're mine

Unknown Number [17:22]: see you soon

Unknown Number [17:22]: if you're still a little slow ... it's jimin

Unknown Number [17:25]: ❤️

You notice the heart emoji was sent a few minutes after the rest of his texts, which showed you that he may have contemplated whether or not to send it. You feel your heart flutter, as you plop back onto your bed, a wide grin splaying on your face.

extra scene

"I'm sorry ... what?" Yoongi chokes on the piece of meat he just shoved into his mouth as he stares at his best friend in the face as if he'd grown another head. But as usual, he seemed to only attract people that were vastly similar to him, and Jimin's face is unreadable as ever. But Yoongi knows he's serious and not fucking around because he's looking intently at the older boy for a response.

"So?" Jimin says casually, leaning into his seat and Yoongi needs to chug down a glass of water to ensure that the food goes down all the way before he can say anything to the question Jimin just posed him with.

"You want my sister's address ... to ... I'm sorry, correct me if I'm wrong but I had a fall and I may have a concussion so I don't know if I'm hearing things right," Yoongi deadpans but Jimin just rolls his eyes at the older one's dramatics before nodding his head for him to continue.

"You want her address to ... confess to her?" Yoongi says hesitantly and Jimin nods his head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But it wasn't. Because as long as Yoongi's known Jimin, he's been all detached and broody, uninterested in everything and everyone. He's never shown the slightest interest in anyone and usually opted for casual hookups than actual relationships so clearly, Yoongi is a little skeptical.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi asks baffled.

Jimin nods, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes. I went for a medical check-up that day and my doctor said he's never seen results as impeccable as mine." Jimin says blandly.

Yoongi scoffs.

"You're just not ... the dating type, you know? Much less ... with my sister?" It sounds weird to even Yoongi's ears. He grew out of his childish mindset and had no problem with Jimin dating you, but it was still weird to see his best friend showing interest in you.

"I like her. And I respect you. Which is why I came to you before I did anything."

Yoongi gapes at his best friend, who looks much softer than he usually does.

"Wow ... I just ..." Yoongi exhales, "Damn."

Jimin offers a small smile before gesturing to their food.

"At least we can really be brothers now." Yoongi jokes, sliding a piece of paper with your address on it to Jimin.

Jimin smiles fondly at the paper before tucking it into his shirt jacket.

The image of you in white, smiling and looking only at him drives him to see you the next day.

[softomi]

butterflies

prompt: I read in a book once that blue butterflies symbolize many things but I think my favorite was that they are wish-granters. So if you see a blue butterfly, make a wish.

pairing: atsumu x reader

word count: 3.3k

general taglist: @graykageyama

Between the twins, Osamu was always your favorite and it was clear that Osamu preferred you over his brother. Atsumu was the bane of your existence ever since they moved across the street from you. Seven years old, the parents happily introducing themselves, the children staring at each other awkwardly. One held a volleyball, the other staring at you. They were supposed to be your new friends, though all of you were seven, technically you were older. You were a grade above them having just made the cutoff to enter school early, that didn’t stop Atsumu from addressing you as though you were younger than him.

“Ow.” You fell onto your butt, Atsumu had harshly pushed you, “Tsumu.” You began to whimper, tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

He didn’t mean to push you so hard, he just didn’t like that your cooties were going to stain him. There’s a pretty blue butterfly pin in your pigtail braid and when he reaches out, your cries lessen. Your eyes widening, perhaps he was going to help you up. His fingers tug on one of your braids, a little too harshly that the butterfly pin falls out. You begin to wail more at how hurtful he was being.

“Tsumu!” Osamu rips Atsumu’s hand away, shoving the boy to stand between you and his brother. Osamu has dirt on his face from playing far away, he had left momentarily to dig through the ground but as soon as he heard your cries, he came running, “Don’t be mean!”

Atsumu doesn’t know what he did wrong, was it so bad that he was interested in your braids, “She’s the one being a cry baby.” He sticks his tongue out, scowling at you for ruining his fun.

The twins parents have emerged from the home, their mother helping you up and dusting off the dirt from your dress. Osamu lunges at Atsumu, they’re pulling each other’s hair, Atsumu is shoving his brother’s face with his palm, Osamu’s knee is pressing against his brother’s chest. Their father lifts Osamu off Atsumu, scolding the boys loudly for starting a fight.

“Apologize!” Atsumu’s head is forced in a bow by his father.

Atsumu’s fingers are clenched in a fist, “I’m sorry.” He’s gritting through his teeth. He has a scar on his cheek from his brother and he watches with a heavy glare at the way Osamu has his hand in yours, leading you into the home with their mom.

Atsumu plays by himself outside, his father watching him throw around the volleyball for an hour. He catches the ball and holds it still when he hears the door of the home opening. For a second he turns thinking Osamu has decided to come out and play but he scowls when you’re walking to him with your pretty blue polka dot dress.

“I brought you a cookie.” You have a plate in your hands, chocolate chip cookies looking freshly made. He reaches but his hand knocks the plate out of your hands, the cookies sadly falling onto the floor.

“Miya Atsumu!” His father’s stern voice sends a chill down his spine. Before he knows it, he’s being dragged into the home by the back of his shirt.

Atsumu thinks, it’s your fault he’s always getting in trouble.

After Osamu walks you home, Atsumu is allowed to come out of his room. He’s back outside and when he walks through the grass, something shiny attracts his attention. His fingers reach out, gripping the butterfly pin he remembers in your hair. He stuffs the pin in his pocket, running to throw around the volleyball with his brother.

As time went on, Atsumu, Osamu, and you fell into a respective trio dynamic. You were close-knit with Osamu, sharing similar interests in movies, games, and books. With Atsumu, you bickered and spat with him over every little thing; he stopped pulling your hair but that only egged him to think of other modes of torture. Osamu was always there to beat his brother up for you, someone’s got to knock him down a peg and that’s exactly what Osamu did.

By the time the twins entered junior high, Atsumu was beginning to notice he was the third wheel and the only way you’d ever look his way was when he tormented you. He’d spill his drinks on you, eat your food, purposely poke your sides to make you jump, scare you from around the corner, and even just plainly verbally hurt you.

“Did you gain weight?” Atsumu poked your stomach. You slap his hand away, trying to ignore him until Osamu arrived. You should have known better than to walk with Atsumu. He slings an arm around your shoulders, “Did you look in the mirror today when you got ready?”

His cackle is blow to your heart, you jab an elbow into his side, your palm wiping away a stray tear.

“Are you crying?” As much as Atsumu doesn’t want to laugh, because he doesn’t, he feels guilty, horrible even, but his automatic reaction is to chuckle, “Hey, I’m“ His apology is cut off when a fist forces him to step back.

Osamu blows on his fist, he looks at his brother with a grin, “Call it twin telepathy, I just knew you were being mean.”

Not much changed in high school, him a mere second year and you a third year. The only change he can think of is the fact that now you had a whole team to back you up. Kita was rather sharp in detecting Atsumu being a little prick to you, Suna took pride in tripping the blonde if he as much tried to approach you, the other’s seem to take more of an approach of just being near you. After all, you being their volleyball club manager was more important than Atsumu.

“Hey.” Atsumu’s voice stops you dead in your tracks before you can even step foot into the gymnasium to start setting up, “What’s with that on your face?”

Your hand instinctively flies to your cheeks, “What?”

His hand wildly gestures to his own face, “You trying to impress someone? Make-up won’t do you any good.”

You didn’t think anyone would notice the thin layer of foundation you put on or the minimal line of eyeliner; even your eyeshadow was so sheer, you wondered how he even saw it. You give him a cold shoulder, “Go fall off a cliff Atsumu.”

He follows you into the gym, setting his bag down onto one of the benches. He makes his way behind you, his finger dipped into your skirt, pulling at the waistband, “Oi, you have a rip in your skirt.”

“What are you doing?!” Osamu drops his bag at the entrance of the gym, he’s running, tackling his brother to the ground.

“Get the fuck off me!” Atsumu is shoving his brother.

Osamu is digging his brother’s face into the floor, “You’re being a perv!”

“Fuck you!” Atsumu is on top of his brother now.

You could clear up the situation if they weren’t so engrossed in murdering each other. They continue to roll on the floor, taking turns shoving the other’s face into the ground. You use their distracted minds to pull your skirt around. He was telling the truth, it was barely noticeable but there was a tiny rip on the waistband, probably where he had been pulling.

Atsumu is biting the insides of his mouth, he had been scolded by Kita when Osamu explained what had happened, and even when you explained he had no ill intentions; Kita still lectured him on how it isn’t appropriate to touch a girl without her permission. Now he’s running laps around the gym with the rest of the team while you fiddle with the fabric of your skirt.

“Here.” You look up at him, Atsumu had disappeared for ten minutes and when he returned, he towered over you, in his hand a small sewing kit, “If you keep playing with it, you’ll end up ripping the entire skirt. No one wants to see that.”

Even when he’s being nice, he has to throw in a blow to your self-esteem.

“Thanks.” You say bitterly, “But I don’t know how to sew.” Your finger scratches against your head, “I know, I’m stupid.”

You’re not. Atsumu wants to say.

You shift uncomfortably when he suddenly takes a knee. He pulls the thread from the kit, looping it through the needle to make a small knot.

“Can I?” He’s asking permission to touch you and you merely nod.

Compared to his usual self, Atsumu’s touch is soft. You stare at how concentrated he is, stitching the ripped fabric so that it looks almost brand new. Though your uniform skirt was black, the thread he chose was vibrant red. He leans his head near your hip, he uses his teeth to sever the rest of the thread. His breath hot, you could barely feel it through the fabric of your shirt. Your cheeks tint with a blush when he briefly catches your gaze, he looks away quickly.

“What are you doing now?!” Osamu has returned from his long bathroom break; his hand pulls his brother back by the neck of his shirt.

“Samu!” You wave your hands around, “It’s alright, he was just helping me.” You point to the red thread of your skirt.

Atsumu has his hands up in mercy, Osamu eyes him, “I’m onto you.”

“What? Why?!”

Osamu throws a volleyball at his brother’s head, “Because! You’re an asshole!”

“We’re twins, so by default, you’re an asshole too.”

Atsumu starts to run, Osamu tackles him pretty quickly.

There’re girls piled at the door of Atsumu’s classroom, one by one they come in as though they’re presenting their sacrifices to the king himself. He has chocolates stacked to the ceiling, the teachers are already spreading news that they can’t yell at him since they are gifts and if he was forced to throw any away, the female student body would wreak havoc.

The second-year girls slink back when they spot you, a third year that has all the second-year boys turning heads. Some are boldly stopping you to present their own chocolates which you take sweetly. They sigh happily when you walk away.

“Please accept my confession!”

You enter as the class falls dead silent, you’ve come to the second year classroom to give your gifts to the volleyball boys but you’ve stumbled into what seems to be a public love confession to Atsumu. He leans back in his seat, balancing on the back two legs of the chair as he looks up to the girl. She’s shaking from anxiety with her chocolates out for him, the students begin to whisper the longer he takes to answer. You pity her because Atsumu is a complicated person, you just never know what he’s thinking or what he’ll do next.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t accept any more chocolates. Teacher says I have too much.” Atsumu settles himself onto the four legs of his chair, “You can try Osamu.”

Some of the students let out audible gasps at his comment. You watch her lower her head, brushing past your shoulder in a dejected fashion. The class goes back to bustling rather quickly. Suna sits straight up when he spots you at the door, he taps on Osamu’s desk, the male turning away from the window. Atsumu turns to look over his shoulder, his lips in a thin line when you walk towards the three.

“Happy Valentine’s day.” You have three bags in your hand, you settle one on Osamu’s desk, one falls into the hands of Suna and the last lingers between your fingers. Atsumu stares at it, he notices you have scribbled his name on the side.

The longer you stand without giving it to him, the more he gets irritated. His leg bounces rapidly, he notices the ugly boxes of chocolates squished between your arm and side; pathetic boxes given by pathetic guys. He could do better.

“I just came to drop these off.” Your voice is starting to fade as you notice the last bag still in your hand. You flip the bag around, Osamu and Suna stare at it, a weak glance to their setter, “I’ll see you guys later.”

Osamu got cookies and a gift card to the café he’s been dying to try out. Suna got cookies and a cute little fox plush. Atsumu got nothing but a blow to his pride. He’s sitting arms crossed, knee bouncing against his desk as he refuses to look at Osamu and Suna. Atsumu wonders what you had put in the bag for him.

He had thought long and hard about his gift, Atsumu wasn’t planning on getting you anything for Valentine’s day but the team insisted that it would be a good day to show their appreciation for their manager. When Atsumu asked Osamu what he had gotten for you, Osamu showed him the mug he bought that had a bunny on it. Apparently, the bunny changes color depending on the temperature of the drink. When Osamu asked what Atsumu had gotten, the male simply shrugged his shoulders but the butterfly pin in his pocket pokes at his skin.

The group chat with the team has signified that he’s the last one who hadn’t given his gift yet. He can’t seem to find the time to pull you aside and he can’t find the courage to waltz into your classroom looking for you.

Meet me after classes, near the garden shed.

You reread the text just to make sure that it was correct. A part of you thought maybe his text was a joke meant to leave you hanging outside in the cold but as you near, you can clearly see his tall figure. His back is to you, he’s kicking the snow on the ground, it’s freezing and you’re jogging slightly to reach him.

“Hey.”

He whips around at your voice. His nose is red, trying to hide himself in his scarf. His eyes fall to your hands, you still have the bag but you’re making sure that the side that has his name doesn’t show. His hands are dug into his pockets, he’s twirling the butterfly pin.

“Atsumu?” Your voice shakes him, your eyes wide and just waiting for him to say something, anything.

Snow begins to fall, you look up, your hand lifted to catch the snowflakes that melts immediately in your palm.

“I.” Atsumu can’t find his next words because as you look at him, his heart is pounding in his chest. His eyes are falling and he catches the faint red thread on your skirt; he was sure you had thrown the skirt out, he recalls you telling Osamu that you had ordered a new skirt, “I’m sorry.”

“Hm?” You lean in, “What?”

Atsumu’s clenching the butterfly pin. He’s remembering every moment he’s ever had with you, all the hair pulling, all the nasty words, all the dirty tricks, “I said I’m sorry.” His lips are chapped, cheeks turning red from the cold, or maybe from the way he feels his heartrate accelerating, “Okay?”

You’re confused, “Did something happen? Did you get into a fight with Osamu again?”

Osamu, Osamu, Osamu. Is that all the two of you will ever talk about? Is that the only topic of common ground that you had with him? Osamu this, Osamu that.

“No.” He presses his thumb on the hairpin, “Whatever.” He sighs, his hands are removed from his pockets, in his palm you stare at the pin, “Happy Valentine’s day loser.”

Your finger brushes against his skin and you stare with wonder at the butterfly pin you recall bawling to your parents for losing, “Where’d you find this?” You’re smiling, for the first time, you’re giving him a smile.

“It’s not really important where I found it.” It sat on his dresser for years, some days he forgot it was there, other days he stared at it when getting dressed.

You’re giggling with glee, you’re pushing the hairpin to pull back strands of your hair, it’s bright blue jewels contrast against the falling of snow. The pin rests above your ear, Atsumu stares in awe. A snowball smacks against his neck, it jolts Atsumu out of his trance and he’s alarmingly looking around.

“What are you doing?!” Osamu screams from a distance, Suna’s phone out had captured the accurate shot.

“Goddamit Samu!” Atsumu screams, the cold torturing his skin. Atsumu quickly forms a snowball, you scream when another snowball hits Atsumu’s side, it exploded and struck you as collateral.

Atsumu chucks the snowball at his brother, though he tried to run, Osamu was hit straight in the face. You let out a gasp in unison with Atsumu, Osamu is building another snowball and just as he’s about to throw, Atsumu grips you by the arms, putting you in front of him.

“Tsumu! No!” You screech.

His stomach jitters, you called him by his nickname. Osamu chucks the snowball and to protect your face, you turn in Atsumu’s hands, your fingers clinging to his jacket and you’re laughing. God, you’re laughing with him.

The snowball sends you forward, your cheek pressed against his chest, your laughter vibrates onto his skin. He’s burning, he’s hot, he’s sweating. He’s suddenly gulping, thirsty, aching to drink something. Another snowball is thrown, this time it hits him in the shoulder.

“Don’t use y/n as a shield, ya dickhead!” Osamu is approaching, this time he nears with a snowball in his hand.

You’re just realizing now that you’re exposed legs are freezing. You shiver into Atsumu briefly before pulling away from him. You escape from his grasp to skip over to Suna. You’re clinging to Suna’s arm, teeth chattering, and you watch through Suna’s phone as Osamu smacks the snowball into his brother’s face. Of course, this causes Atsumu to tackle Osamu; Suna stops the recording.

“I got like ten million videos of them rolling on the floor.”

Atsumu ruffles his hair, he’s looking in the mirror to make sure all the dirt and snow mixture is out. Osamu approaches next to him, running his hand under the water. They don’t meet gazes but as they stare into their own reflections, it was like they were looking right at each other.

“Don’t do it.” Osamu states. He’s pulled one of the paper towels, wiping his hands as he doesn’t break eye contact with his reflection, “Don’t go acting like you loved her this entire time. You treated her like shit and now suddenly you think you’re in love.”

Atsumu feels guilt build up in the pit of his stomach. Osamu leaves the bathroom, leaving Atsumu to grip onto the sink. The feeling of you pressed against his chest makes blue butterflies swirl in his abdomen. He shoves the feeling down, he tucks it into the back of his heart, he puts you on the back burner.

His cell rings, Suna’s text tells him that everyone has decided to head to the gym first. He takes the time to wipe his hands, throwing the paper towel into the trash, he spots a brown paper bag next to the door of the bathroom. His name is scribbled on the side in your handwriting.

Atsumu got cookies, a volleyball keychain with his name etched into it, and a card. He sits in the bathroom, card in between his fingers, streaks of tears down his cheek while he stuffs the cookies into his mouth.

Thank you for helping me that one day with my skirt. I was going to buy a new one but then cancelled the order since I’ll be graduating any way. I never did get to thank you so I’m doing it now.

The card continues with a different colored pen.

I love the butterfly hairpin, thank you for finding it. I hope that we can become friends.

Atsumu heavily breathes, you were so nice, for someone like him, you were incredibly nice. You were so nice his heart was clenching and somewhere in the world, blue butterflies are flapping their wings.

[qyllenhaal]

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

-

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

-

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

-

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

-

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

-

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Hello I just wanted to say ur amazing writer and I was wondering if I can request Winchester brother x sister reader where the reader is the youngest Winchester maybe around 16- 17 you can choose the fits but I was hoping u can do like where the reader is depressed and has ED (eating disorder ) and doesn’t tell the brothers and one day it gets worse and passed out the brothers are worried trying to help her out but it hard for her I hope this ok if not I can do different request it just I found comfort in angst topics with struggles I go through you know sorry if this doesn’t makes sense

It started years ago. To be exact it started when your father lost it, going mental on your oldest brother Dean. The three of you were thick as thieves and it physically hurt to see the complete and utter destruction your father left behind for Dean to clean up.

Living your life on the road was okay, you had two great older brothers that kept you up. Kept you in good spirits but it's hard when your whole world around you is crashing. You know it, your family knows but no one else.

How Dean and Sam ever dealt with the massive weight on their shoulders. It blew your mind. You. You weren't worth anything, especially not your mother burning on the ceiling. Your father resented you. You didn't need him to say it, because you could tell. Dean was his soldier, Sam was the disappointment, but the smartest out of the three of you. But you, you were the reason all four of you were in this mess. The reason why John was searching for that revenge every day.

Covering it up with the idea of saving people, but you were smart, so very smart. Sam had complimented you many times on your quickness, and sharpness when it came to the lore, but regarding your father, it was never the approval you were looking for.

Lots of things happened, to get you to the age of seventeen and drowning in the pit of your stomach all because you all no desire to be here anymore. You weren't helping your older brothers you were just in the way.

In the way of progress, a major setback to them. For them to prove to John that they would be like him, do like him. They'd have to leave you behind. It was for the best.

It started off as a way to conserve the little food the four of you had. At the ripe age of seven you learned quickly that offering your food to Sam was a better idea, or skipping off to lay in a shitty motel bed was better than eating. Yes your stomach would growl and the acid would burn, but anything to keep the weight of your brother off your shoulders.

As you grew up you learned that if you stayed at school as long as you could it was the best. Dean had just learned how to drive driving was his passion, reading was Sam. And yours... yours was to stay away, out of the way.

By the age of fifteen, you had your patterned packed down and tight. You leave with Sam since he drove you to school, and since he was a senior. You felt a wave of dizziness almost every morning. The night's dinner is still wrapped in its paper bag. Claiming to take it for lunch. Dean never argued with you. Kiss your forehead and hitting the pillow quicker than he hit on the girls that passed by the motel's door.

Your father was already starting to become absent. The shadow of what a perfect family no one ever talked about. You thrived in the school building though. Sam kissed your forehead his height greatly giving him the advantage before saying his goodbyes to you and running to meet with his senior friends.

You walked alone in the hallways. The bullying started almost immediately the second you stepped into the building. Near of my brothers were aware of the shit I went through on a daily basis. Years later they still weren't.

You had settled on never telling them about my dislike for eating, you hoped and prayed most night that they'd never find out. It was better without their acknowledgment of your weakness. Who knows they might be the same way everyone was at school.

The last year had been hard for you and your brothers, your father making less, and less of an effort with all three of you. Your relationship was already straining to stay alive, the burning and hurt in the bit of your stomach was something that was constant now, and from what you could tell it wasn't going to get any better.

Your brothers are now in their early 20's still taking care of their baby sister. Nights you guys sat down for dinner were odd, without John there. The quiet days where a now older Sam would drive you to school, along by yourself all day long. The teasing being relentless.

The whole idea, you were constantly dizzy, constantly on the verge of falling asleep no matter if you were in class, or at the crappy motel room with your brothers.

Tonight though, tonight your world fell apart as you walked in through the door, your final year of schooling was just starting your summer of staying inside and reading was over. The hot day of September had gotten to you more than you were willing to say. As you walked in through the motel door, the cool air hitting you in your face, and the hot air of the evening summer day kicking you in your ass.

It was too much, down you and your light bookbag went. Dean had been on one of the motels' beds when he heard you fall, Sam behind hadn't been able to catch you even with his long arms.

You don' remember much. You do remember hearing the sounds of your brothers frantically rushing around the room, one dropping his gun, and the other rushing over to your side.

"Dean what the hell just happened?" Sam asked in a frantically worried voice. "I don't know all I heard was the engine of Baby, and then her fall to the floor," Dean said rushing to your thin frame. Neither had noticed until now when they finally had time to pay attention to their baby sister that she was rather thinner than a normal seventeen-year-old.

Paler then normal, "Sam do you notice it?" Dean asked as Sam pulled the lightweight bookbag from your small shoulders. A small hum came from Sams's lips, maybe it was too much to say it. The words making truth when they leave his lips.

Sam picked you up feeling just how boney you were. "How did we let her get this bad Dean?" He questioned, Dean kept his head down grabbing her bag and following behind Sam to the bed's side.

When you woke up your two brothers were talking quietly in the tiny kitchen. Sam saw you try to get up their conversation stopped at a halt, and they both came over to help you.

Quiet overcame the room. Dean was the first to speak. "How are you feeling, Y/n?" He asked, you shrugged your shoulders, the ache in your body was strong, but not enough to make that your brother's problems.

"Y/n please be honest with us... Is this the first time something like this has happened?" Your brother Sam asked. Swallowing hard, before talking you answered Dean's question. "I feel fine guys really nothing to worry about." Answering Sams was going to be harder, you don't really remember the last time something like this happened, maybe last week in school, maybe a few years ago. "I don't remember Sam." That was all you said. Sad expression littered their coarse and worn faces.

"Y/n, how long have been like this?" Dean asked, furrowed brows as he asked the question. "Like what?" You replied. "Like how you don't eat at dinner and think we don't notice, how long Y/n? Just answer please." Dean said.

You tried opening your mouth, but the pressure of being truthful with your brothers was overbearing. Trying again and still, nothing slipped out. Sam ur interrupted your train of thought. "Since dad started on with his hunt for yellow eyes?" Simple questions always have a simple answer.

"If you want an honest answer I'd say seven or eight." You said, pushing yourself up from laying in the bed to sitting up against the headboard. The gasps for air were real between your two brothers. One hand came to rest on top of yours while the other paced around the motel room.

Your guess as to which was mad, and empathic wasn't hard for you. Dean pacing around the room meant he was angry, and Sam's empathic hand on top of yours meant he to wanted help. "Why didn't you tell us?" Dean questioned me, Sam turned to look at his older brother. "That won't help, we were talking remember. We need to help her, bot questions her about her actions or even her reason why." Sam said, Dean, calm down as he continued to pace.

Sam returned his attention to you. Hand still laying on top of yours, "Y/n why don't we, all the three of us help you yeah?" He said you laughed a little and Dean looked up from his pacing feet. "I don't think you guys could ever help me. I've been and felt this way for ten years now. This is just how I am now. Broken and worthless to this Winchester family." You said the strain of holding back was harder than you thought. Dean had paused his pacing staring at you and Sams's hand had engulfed yours.

Dean came over, putting his finger under your chin, grabbing your attention. "You listen here, to Sam and I. We care more about you than you'll ever know. We don't care what any person thinks, we don't care about Dad as much as we care about our little sister. Now believe me when we say that all we want to do is help you, helping you is what Sam and I are here for. Y/n you aren't alone, you aren't, worthless, and you most definitely aren't broken. We can help you all you have to do is let us in." Dean said sitting down next to you when he was down.

"We love you and don't wanna see so much potential be wasted especially when we knew we could have helped you," Sam added. You were having a hard time believing them, but nothing would stop you from trying especially when you had your brothers by your side.

[redhoodieone]

Welcome Home

A/N: Hi everyone! This is an old fic that I’m re-posting for those who want to read it. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language and Smut.

  I knew my family was different the moment I found out my adoptive father was Batman. I was just a ten-year-old girl when I snuck down the stairs at midnight for a drink of water and spotted Batman leaving a trail of blood from his study and calling out for Alfred for help. The moment our eyes locked, Bruce instantly knew that I was clearly aware of his secret. He had also confessed it was him who saved me from a shootout that my parents were involved in and that it was him, as Batman. I felt I owed Bruce my own life for saving me, and I vowed to keep my father’s secret and pray that he would return home safely every night back to me.

It didn’t help that I soon discovered my adoptive older brother Dick Grayson was Robin. Not only did I have to keep his secret as well, but it made it more impossible to not have a crush on him. I mean, Dick has such a charming personality, beautiful baby blue eyes, and a devilish smile that can make any girl crawl on her hands and knees. And that ass…

I later found myself becoming the second Robin once Dick left to assume his own identity, Nightwing. Bruce trusted me, and he saw potential in me the second I told him I couldn’t see myself being a hero forever. Perhaps he never really wanted me to be his sidekick and figured if I got it out of my system that I could resume my life as a sixteen-year-old and do normal teenager activities. As if my life was normal anyways.

But things changed as soon as I was finally embracing myself as a hero. Bruce had taken in a new kid, Jason Todd. He was a troublemaker, a rebel, and a mysterious kid, who had never even spoken to me unless he had to. I don’t think my age helped the situation either; I was a couple of years older than him and he may not have seen me as an equal. But of course, the dark haired, icy blue eyed, bad attitude boy was given the Robin title, and I was removed because of a patrol-gone-wrong situation.

Stupid Harley Quinn and her baseball bat. Who knew one hit to my knee could bench me for two months (Alfred added an additional five months of rest).

Then the unthinkable happened. The second Robin was killed by the Joker. Jason Todd’s death put Bruce into a depression, and he swore he would never put another kid’s life in danger. Our father and daughter relationship broke apart before my very eyes. I spent my remaining teenage years in the mansion isolated, except for Alfred’s loving company.

I had graduated high school on time and I quickly decided to go to Gotham University to escape the Bat family. Before I moved out, I discovered Bruce had taken in another kid, Tim Drake, who was currently the new Robin. Was I hurt? Of course, I felt I was somehow replaced. Would I miss the Bat family? Maybe. Maybe not.

I did in fact wish the new younger Robin good luck. When Tim looked up at me, his light blue eyes were so innocent and frightened about me leaving him behind. I didn’t know why he would be so upset about me leaving; wouldn’t he want all of Bruce’s attention without me hanging around the mansion?

Now I’m twenty-one-years-old, and I’m still a student at Gotham University. Alfred had just called and informed me Bruce wants me back home.

As I sit in a taxi while anxiously waiting to pull up to Wayne Manor, I honestly don’t know why Bruce wants me back at home. Alfred has kept me up to date about the Bat family incidents and activities I have missed out those few years such as:

Dick Grayson becoming a womanizer (I saw it coming) and how he’s juggling working as a police officer and Nightwing. He’s still the favorite and golden child in Bruce’s eyes.

Jason Todd is back from the dead, and he’s currently operating his own team: Red Hood and the Outlaws (who knew he was leadership material underneath that thick skull of his?).

Tim Drake is Red Robin (does the fast food chain restaurant know about his superhero name?), and he’s currently assisting the Teen Titans when necessary while simultaneously aiding Bruce with detective work.

Damian Wayne is Bruce Wayne’s unknown biological child. I think he’s about fifteen-years-old now; from what I remember the last time I spoke to Alfred. I met Damian once, when Bruce asked me to meet him once Talia al Ghul practically dropped him off at Bruce’s doorstep. The boy was a little shit: bratty, stuck up, and insensitive. Even though he is the spitting image of Bruce, minus the different colored eyes (Bruce has blue and Damian’s are green), Damian claims he is set to take over the cowl when Bruce is either dead or done. God help us all…

But I still can’t figure out why I am needed back home. Is Alfred sick? Is Bruce dying after fighting all these years? Is it one of my brothers?

I jump in surprise once the taxi comes to a hard stop. After paying the man, I grab my duffel bag and I climb the front steps that I suddenly remember jumping off them as a kid. Alfred scolded me many times, and I still did it because being bad was fun.

I scoff loudly, and I jump down the five steps that would have given Alfred a heart attack. Maybe I haven’t changed as much as I thought.

I find the wooden front door unlocked, which is odd considering Alfred always makes sure to lock it. As a matter of fact, Alfred hasn’t greeted me like he always does when I come home. Where is Alfred?

After I unwrap my scarf, I pull my hoodie over my head to be more comfortable in the warm house. Sadly, I forgot to do laundry yesterday, so I came home in just my black yoga pants and red tank top. What would Alfred say?

I kick off my shoes and walk to the kitchen barefoot. Pulling my long hair into a ponytail, I notice a note on the counter that’s written for me. I unfold the note and stare at the nicest, well done cursive handwriting only one man can do here.

 Dear Lady Y/N,

I sincerely apologize for not being there to greet you properly. Master Bruce had wanted me to take my holiday to London early, and Lord knows I can use a week to myself after stitching up countless wounds, tidying up bedrooms and Bat caves, and playing messenger between you and your father. I have a cooked roast with garlic mash potatoes in the refrigerator if you are hungry. Do heat it up and perhaps show your father and brothers how to use the microwave.

I dearly love you and the boys,

 Love Alfred Pennyworth

P.S.

Look into the highest cabinet above the refrigerator, and you will discover a jar of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies just for you.

 I grin widely, and before I can turn around and find the cookies, I’m stuck between the counter and a tall, hard body behind me. I freeze.

“Welcome home, Y/N. I missed you so much,” Bruce whispers in my ear. I can feel his hot breath above my shoulder and neck. The familiar smell of his expensive cologne fills my nostrils. His large hands rub my legs and grip onto my hips very hard. “Did you miss me?”

“H-hi dad. W-what are you doing?” I ask softly, but I know it came out like a whisper. One of his hands is holding my waist, while the other caresses my abdomen. It feels strange considering Bruce is supposed to be my father, and we shouldn’t be this close or even touching each other. But a part of me wants to keep feeling his hands on me and see what he does next.

“Holding you. Smelling you. Touching you,” he answers, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He breathes harder when I press my backside against his front by accident. “It appears you want this too. Am I correct, Y/N?”

His hand pulls down my yoga pants enough, so he can reach into my underwear. Bruce continues to breathe hard from his nose when his fingers find my core. His thumb rubs fast circles on my clit, while he pushes two fingers inside me. I bite my bottom lip to stop a loud moan from coming out of me, but he appears he’ll have none of that. He stops fingering me.

“You better be loud, or I won’t let you cum, Y/N.”

Before I can beg him to keep going, he turns my face, so I can look him in those cold, pale blue eyes. “Please tell me you’re…not a virgin.” Bruce’s face is twisted in pleasure from just fingering me, but I can tell his lips are trembling and there’s a soft but pleading look in his eyes. This must hurt him as much as it’s hurting me.

“I-I’m not,” I confess, and wonder if he would change his mind if I said I was.

“Who was it with?” Bruce demands. He kisses along my shoulder to my neck before he bites on my soft spot. I hiss in pain and I grind into him again.

“Josh Mitchell. I was sixteen,” I answer harshly.

“Was he any good?”

Before I can answer, Bruce shoves the front of my body onto the counter, while he pulls down my yoga pants. My adrenaline is rushing, and I can feel myself wetting the counter from just his roughness. I can feel him unzip his pants and I can already imagine this thick, hard cock fucking me into oblivion.

“No, no he wasn’t good at all!” I cry out.

“Good, I’m actually relieved to hear that,” Bruce says, as he starts to stroke himself. “Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”

I want to turn around and watch him jack off. Hearing him pleasure himself isn’t enough. Bruce then jams two fingers back into my pussy and I whimper loudly. It has been too long since I’ve been intimate with a man. I need his cock now!

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Do I need to remind you who you are supposed to answer to?” he says seriously before adding a third finger inside me. I grip the counter and I breathe harder. I find myself rubbing my pussy on the edge of the smooth countertop for more friction, but he grabs my hips and stops me. “Now, do you want me to fuck you, Y/N, or should I leave you here, so you can dry hump the countertop alone?”

I growl louder, while my nails scratch the counter top. “YES! Yes, I want you to fuck me, Dad!”

As soon as those words left my mouth, I immediately wonder if I killed the mood. Why would I call him ‘dad’ when we’re about to have hot, rough sex in the kitchen? I need to apologize. I push myself up on my elbows and I shift my head to the side to apologize. I open my mouth to speak but stop when Bruce’s eyes darkened, and he growls as he slams his thick cock inside me.

I moan louder than I have in my entire life. His cock fills me up so much that I fear I won’t be able to walk straight for the next week or two. Bruce lifts my legs up and continues to shove me against the counter with every hard thrust. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to fuck me. The man is practically drilling into me with no kindness at all.

“Oh fuck! You’re so fucking tight. So wet and so hot,” Bruce groans out. With each thrust, I can feel he wants to let go and fuck me like he owns me.

“Go ahead, Dad. Fuck me. Fuck me like I’m yours and only yours,” I tempt him playfully.

Bruce growls and rams his cock faster into me. He keeps knocking the air out from my lungs, and I can feel my body pulsating against his. I grip the countertop harder each time, and I know my knuckles are turning white and becoming numb every second. With one hand on my hips, Bruce moves his other hand up my tank top to hold my tits.

“No bra? You’re a bad girl,” Bruce says in between panting.

“I forgot to do laundry,” I choke out.

“Excuses,” he manages to say, as he holds me up more, so he can penetrate me deeper. His cock is hitting a deeper spot in me. It must be my g-spot, because I have read about it but never actually felt it to know. I can feel myself clenching his dick tightly, and I know I’m getting closer to release. “You wanted me and your brothers to see your tits, huh?”

“Maybe,” I cry out louder than what I intended to. Fuck, what if one of my brothers hears me? They’ll really think I’m insane for fucking our father and for loving it every second. Bruce readjusts our position once more, so he can hit that spot continuously. “I-I think I’m going to cum!”

“Not yet, you better not!” Bruce growls, and drills into me harder and faster. With his powerful thrusts and the constant friction from the countertop on my clit, I know for a fact that I can’t last longer. His hands hold onto my hips while he fucks me harder than before.

I become a moaning mess. I can feel my mouth drop open because I feel liquid coming out from my core. Did I just squirt? What the hell is happening to me?

The sounds of skin on skin is louder because of my mess. I drop my head onto the counter while Bruce continues to fuck me. Before I can catch my breath, Bruce chuckles and lifts me up. “I just made you squirt. That has never happened before, has it?”

“No, that was my first time,” I answer breathlessly. He kisses my neck.

“You’re so wet,” Bruce grunts into my ear. Breathing heavily, he lifts my hips again, so he can rub my clit with his fingers. “You’re making a mess all over my cock. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I’m your bad girl,” I moan out, as I can feel another orgasm threatening to take over my body.

“Fuck yes, you are!” Bruce groans, and continues to shove his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

With every rough thrust, I know Bruce won’t last. I whimper once more when my pussy clenches his dick as he fucks me through my orgasm. A few more hard thrusts, Bruce pulls out and turns me over onto my back. He jacks himself off as I watch his cum spurt out all over my stomach.

Just seeing his hard, veiny thick cock before me turns me on once more. I lick my lips at how the tip of his dick glistens with his cum.

Bruce sighs heavily, and just when I think I should try to get up and clean myself, he pulls me up and kisses me. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, and we explore each other’s mouths as if this was our last chance to. He pulls away from me and rests his forehead against mine.

“You’re mine, Y/N. You belong to me, and the Batfamily. I don’t care who wants you, because you will never give them what you have given me. Do you understand?” Bruce asks, before giving me his famous bat glare.

“I understand, and I promise,” I swear before he kisses me once more.

“Good, now go wash up,” Bruce instructs before he helps me off the counter.

I grab a paper towel and wipe Bruce’s cum off my stomach before I pull up my yoga pants. As soon as I toss the damped paper towel into the trash, I immediately notice Dick Grayson is standing there at the entrance of the kitchen staring at me with fire in his eyes.

[luulapants]

Stories We Tell

When I was eight years old, my parents split up, and my dad, as divorced dads are wont to do, got a shitty apartment in a weird neighborhood.

The building was two stories with sixteen units. There was an in-ground pool out back, unheated in the shade, so the temperature hovered just above arctic. Half the time, instead of swimming, you ended up fishing a dead squirrel out and changing your mind. The laundry room in the basement flooded every time it rained. The appliances were junk, constantly breaking. The doors and locks, too. The landlord never fixed anything.

I didn’t give much thought to the neighbors until I was fourteen, when my dad got full custody. Someone broke into our ground floor apartment around the same time (and by “broke in,” I mean waltzed through a door with a broken lock) so we moved to the second floor, where it was a little safer. Our new balcony looked out over the rodent graveyard pool.

Over the next few years, I developed a colorful picture of our neighbors:

--

Across the hall was Doris, a madam and a raging alcoholic. She was in her fifties or sixties, but there were always astoundingly attractive young women coming and going from her apartment. She threw parties where she was the oldest woman by about three decades.

On quieter nights, Doris would sit on her balcony and get wine-drunk. If my friends and I were walking past, she would lean over the railing and shout super appropriate things at us like, “Izzat yer boyfriend, honey? R’you two using protection?!”

One time, my dad did some legal work for Doris. She paid him with two cases of wine.

(My dad doesn’t drink wine, but somehow, it was still gone by the end of the summer. I dunno, Dad, it’s a mystery to me. Couldn’t tell ya.)

--

Next to Doris was a big old dude that used to stand on his balcony in whitey tighties and watch me and the other kids while we waited for the bus. I never learned much about him, except he was creepy with a capital “Eeeugh.”

--

Across the hall from Captain Underpants were the Five to Eight Guys. So called because there were at least five of them living in that two-bedroom apartment, but no more than eight. They all looked vaguely the same: twenty-something stoners with a lot of tattoos and piercings and a fashion sense that hovered somewhere between Hot Topic and PacSun, while somehow managing to be worse than either.

I don’t think all of them were drug dealers. But at least some of them were. Absolutely. People would go into the apartment and re-emerge thirty minutes later in a veritable cloud of smoke. Our coat closet shared a wall with them, and my coats always reeked of pot. I mostly started smoking because people assumed anyway.

The summer after my Freshman year, they hung blankets up around their balcony to create an extra room. I told my dad, “That’s smart – there’s so many of them living in there, so they made an extra bedroom.”

My dad looked up at the tell-tale red glow of a grow lamp peeking out through the cracks of the blankets and told me, “Kiddo, I don’t think it’s a bedroom.”

--

Below the Five to Eight Guys were two elderly nuns.

Yes, really.

They never had a mean word for anyone: not the madam, not the drug dealers, not the creepy old man standing outside in his briefs. That wasn’t to say they had a kind word for them. Their go-to was smiling and minding their own fucking business.

I liked to think of them as our building security. Because, sure, we had no real security to speak of. The doors were always propped open, and I don’t think there was a functional smoke alarm in the entire building.

But surely God wasn’t going to let anything too bad happen to a building with nuns living in it, right?

--

Next door to the nuns was the strangest of the whole lot: Crazy Cat Man. He was Russian, in his seventies, and had lived in the building since before the landlord added the ‘no pets’ rule to the lease. And I’m pretty sure Crazy Cat Man was reasons A through Z for that rule.

I never got a real count on the cats, but it was somewhere in the ballpark of ten. But ten cats wasn’t enough to sate Crazy Cat Man’s love for animals. Oh, no.

One winter, he decided to feed the geese, and hangry geese laid siege to the building for weeks.

Another time, I heard the landlord’s voice downstairs. He was screaming, “What the fuck is the matter with you!”

And Crazy Cat Man was yelling back, “I no let squirrel in the apartment! I never!”

He had. He had spent weeks feeding the squirrels, getting friendly with them. Then he started cracking the patio door to lure them inside.

Crazy Cat Man was married. His wife had albinism and was photo-sensitive, so I only ever saw her outside once.

See, once a year, Crazy Cat man delivered phone books. It was his only job. He spent the rest of the year trying to fix his van up so it would run well enough to deliver the phone books. He was constantly working on it. Every part he put in, the van attacked and destroyed like a body rejecting a donor organ.

One day, he hadn’t pulled the van quite far enough into his garage, so when he lowered the garage door, it hit the back bumper and got stuck. That day, I learned that his wife’s absolute favorite thing in the world was watching her husband be incompetent, because she came out of the apartment for once. He couldn’t get the door back up, so he had to try to crawl under it to get inside the garage, and she was standing there shouting, “My husband is an idiot! My husband is an idiot!”

My dad and I stopped to watch this seventy year old man crawl under a mechanically compromised garage door. My dad said to her, “If he’s not careful, he’s going to be a dead idiot.”

The albino wife turned to him and hissed, “I should be so lucky.”

--

My senior year of high school, the recession hit, and my dad’s law practice went under, and my older brother died of a brain aneurysm. A week after I graduated, my dad told me we were going to be evicted, and I’d have to find somewhere else to stay until I went to college.

We moved everything out of the apartment, so nothing would be trashed when they evicted us. My dad ran off to the mountains to contemplate suicide (as one does), and, for about a month, I had this big, empty apartment to myself. My friends and I threw parties, got drunk. Hot boxed the bathroom.

And I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor in the living room, because it felt too weird to sleep in my old room with none of my things in it.

Late one of those nights, alone in my empty apartment, I heard screaming outside. I went on the balcony. All the neighbors were coming outside to see what the noise was.

On the property behind ours, across from the squirrel-killing pool, there was a huge cottonwood tree, maybe fifty feet tall. On the end of this long branch near the top, there was a raccoon. Closer to the trunk were two more. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a raccoon scream, but it’s almost human sounding.

One of the two at the trunk rushed at the third, and forced it farther to the end of the branch. Then the two raccoons started bouncing the branch. The one at the end screamed.

I think we all realized what was happening at the same time, because I heard someone downstairs say, “What the fuck,” at the same time I thought it.

It took a long time. Pushing the raccoon back, then bouncing the branch, then pushing it back again. By the end, the one raccoon was hanging from the end of the branch, which was pointing straight down. It was screaming continuously.

When it finally fell, you could hear the thud.

I heard the same person say, “What the fuck,” and I had no idea who it was.

--

If found out years later that the rumor in the complex about my dad was that he’d been a lawyer for the mob, and he got on someone’s shit list, and that’s how he ended up so broke. And it’s why he had to disappear so suddenly.

The truth was, my dad was a good lawyer, but a terrible businessman. His clients were mostly small businesses and everyday people. When they didn’t pay him, he assumed it was because they didn’t have the money, and he didn’t want to rub it in by asking.

When I heard that theory, it occurred to me that I had created characters out of our neighbors with no real regard for what was true or logical, only what was interesting. I think that night with the raccoons was the closest I ever got to any of them, as real people. Standing in the dark, faceless, watching something horrible that we had no control over.

I’m not sure what the rumors about me were, but here’s the truth: by all logic, I should have been a pretty miserable kid. My dad had untreated depression, and sometimes he stayed in bed for days. When there was no food in the fridge, I assumed it was because we didn’t have the money, and I didn’t want to rub it in by asking. I went to friends’ houses to eat. That guy that broke into our apartment when I was fourteen? He had a brain tumor, and he thought I was his girlfriend. And I should have been scared shitless that a forty-something year old man had tried to get in bed with me before my dad woke up and beat the bajezus out of him in front of me.

But instead, I started making these stories about the weirdos we lived with. I loved them. I was obsessed with them. I talked about them all the time.

“Say, Julia, how are things at home?”

“Well, you’ll never guess what the Five to Eight Guys were up to yesterday, let me tell you!”

--

I saw Crazy Cat Man two years ago. He’s still delivering phone books, and he looks nothing like I remember him.

[coconutstars]

Right people at the wrong time p.IV

Part I | Part II | Part III 

Pairing: Stiles + reader   Prompt: Perhaps, we were the right people at the wrong time Summary: Reader and Stiles finally get to talk things out and figure out if they are, finally, the right people at the right time (of course they are, I’m not cruel) A/N: HELLO, HOLA, BONJOUR. This is it. This is the thrilling conclusion. It’s long, it’s cute and every chic-lit lovers dream. Fair warning, it’s not proofed at all so be ready for some mess- ups here and there. I did my best. Hope y’all aren’t too disappointed! Thank you for all the kind comments on the other parts, they’ve warmed my heart so much. Anywho, enjoy my lovely friends.  ♡

[ :: ]

“So… are we just not going to talk about you and Stiles?” Kira was laying on your bed, flat on her stomach, supporting herself on her elbows. Her eyes were practically twinkling with curiosity. It was the end of your first week and the two of you were cooped up in your room, eating chips straight out of the bag with a sappy soundtrack playing in the background. With a sigh, you lifted your gaze from the toenail you were painting. You could tell the curiosity as to why Stiles and you had been avoiding each other like the plague was eating Kira alive.

“It’s…” you began, searching for the right words to describe the situation. You really wanted to tell Kira about Stiles but where would you even begin? It wasn’t as simple as just ‘we had a fight two years ago’. There was so much more to it. Explaining it all would take time, and a lot of energy. It would mean having to tap into old feelings, insecurities and heartaches and you just weren’t sure you could deal with that right now. “Complicated?” Kira asked, interrupting your train of thought. Your lips curved into a soft smile. “Something like that”   Kira let out a breath and rolled over on her back. “Yeah, I’d know a thing or two about that” “Oh?” you questioned, pulling your knees up to your chest. “It’s Scott” she exhaled loudly. “I don’t really know where we stand” You nodded thoughtfully. You’d sensed that there was something between Kira and Scott. They’d get… mushy when they were around each other. Kira would get all flushed and Scott’s gaze would always linger just a little too long in her direction. “I mean not that we’re…we’re not dating or anything, or I mean, I don’t know if we are… it’s all confusing and when we’re talking” Kira stammered. “Hey” you interrupted calmly “Don’t worry, I get it” Kira let out a breath of relief and rolled over on her stomach again. Her eyes met yours and she curved her lips into at silent conclusion. “Complicated” You nodded in conformation, your smile mimicking hers. “Complicated” [ :: ]

“Uh… Apparently there’s a party going on” Kira exclaimed in the middle of the romcom you were watching. She angled her phone towards you so you could read the words on the illuminated screen.

From: Scott Received 9.42 pm. Hey I know it’s late but there’s a party at Danny’s. You coming?

You lifted you gaze to meet Kira’s. “You wanna…go?” she questioned slowly, biting down on her lip. You knew she wanted to; her body language practically scream it. You suspected it had something to do with the opportunity to be close to Scott. “Uh...” you made an indifferent gesture with your hand. “yeah sure” you said with a pressed smile. Truth was you’d rather stay home. You wouldn’t really know anyone at the party except for Kira and you really didn’t want to be third wheeling it with her and Scott, especially if they were trying to figure out their “are we or aren’t we” situation. So while they did that, you’d probably end up squeezed in on a couch between some passed out kid and a couple making out. Great. Kira must have sensed your unwillingness because she suddenly got up on her knees. “I mean-“ her voice was anxious “we don’t have to! Seriously! I love what we’re doing…” she stressed. You felt bad. If Kira had the chance to… evolve or clarify her feelings for Scott, you didn’t want to be the one to stand in her way. “Kira” you began with a calm smile. “It’s fine, I want to go” Her entire face lit up in a smile. “Really!? Cool” she jumped off the bed and started pacing like she didn’t know where to start or what to do. “Wait” she suddenly said, her smile fading. “I don’t really…”. She looked down at her leggings and zipped hoodie. “Don’t worry” you grinned “I got you”

[ :: ]

Stiles POV

It was crazy how often he thought of her. He wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. It wasn’t as simple as just walking up to her and going ‘hey sorry for being a dick two years ago’. He needed to show her he meant it but how was he supposed to do that when he could barely even look at her without the guilt taking over. Hell, just being near her fucked him up. His hands would get sweaty, his pulse would rise, and his ability to get out a coherent sentence would momentarily non-exist.

Once again, Stiles eyes searched the crowded room hoping to catch even a glimpse of Y/N, but she was nowhere to be seen. All he could see was a bunch of kids playing beer bong over a trashed kitchen table, a guy from the team puking in a corner while his friend filmed it with their phones and a girl from English making out with a guy who wasn’t her boyfriend.

“She left ten minutes ago” a familiar voice declared. Scott appeared beside him, red solo cup in hand. Stiles considered playing dumb but knew there was no point. Scott was his best friend and brother; he didn’t have to be inside his head to know what he was thinking. Besides, he’d been picking up on his emotions all week. “I’m not sure she wants to talk to me” Stiles answered truthfully “Wouldn’t be so sure of it, man” Stiles let out a deep sigh. “I wouldn’t even know what to say” Scott curved his lips into a crooked grin.

“Then figure it out”

[ .. ]

Y/N POV You’d convinced Kira to stay at the party. Not that it took a lot of effort. Scott and her had been talking non-stop ever since the two of you walked through the door. You on the other hand had been hit on by some drunk guy in a Hawaii shirt, offered molly from a girl who looked like she went to Sunday school and had your favorite top ruined by a freshman with shaky hands. He’d apologized and offered to have it dry-cleaned but everyone knew beer stains were textile hell, even for professionals.

Slipping into a pair of printed sweat shorts and a hoodie, you tied your hair into a messy bun and made your way to the kitchen. You hadn’t eaten anything besides the bag of chips you’d shared with Kira. You’d planned on ordering pizza but got to busy getting ready for the party.

Raiding through the fridge you realized pretty quickly your parents hadn’t stocked the fridge before leaving for their “healing retreat” this weekend. It was some stupid trip their therapist had advised them to take every month to “heal the hole” in their marriage.

Closing the fridge, you grabbed a box of cereal with way too much sugar and made your way over to the couch. Taking a few seconds to flip through the different titles on Netflix, you ultimately settled on some new original series and watched passively while digging your hand into the box.

Getting back up, you were just about to grab something to drink when there was a knock on the door.

Shit.

Shit

Shit.

What the hell was Stiles doing here?

Full of panic, you stood in the hallway like a moron, chewing the mouth full of sugary flakes you’d stuffed your face with only seconds earlier. Why. WHY did he have to show up the one night you’d chosen to wear the shorts with fricken mermaids and seashells on them!? For a moment you considered pretending not to be home but realized pretty quickly that you couldn’t. The lights were on and your car was in the driveway. Besides, a part of you was kind of curious as to why he was at you house 11 p.m. on a Friday night when there was a party going on. 

Running your hand over your mouth, you sure to get rid of any crumbs or powdered sugar before opening the door.

“Y/N!” Stiles exclaimed, almost surprised. He’d been running a hand anxiously through his hair but moved it towards you when you appeared in the doorway. “You’re…You’re here” You furrowed your brow; you were determined to act cool even though there was a storm of emotions raging inside you. “Yeah… I kind of live here” you said, going to fold your arms over your chest only to realize you were still holding the cereal box in your hand. Sigh. For once. Could someone give you a goddamn break

Stiles shifted his gaze and started flexing and unflexing his hands. “yeah, no, course” he cleared his throat. There was a moment of silence between you.

“so, you’re uh… probably wondering why I am here” Stiles said with a nervous chuckle. You nodded slightly; lips pressed together. You still couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a few seconds.

Stiles cleared his throat again. Seems his plan of action only stretched as far as showing up at your house. “Yeah, so I came to say that…are you… eating that out of the box?” Stiles asked, nodding towards the cereal. “Yeah, so?” you asked defensively. “It’s dry” “I happen to not like milk” Stiles furrowed his brow. “What? You used to love milk? You literally drank like half a gallon when Melissa baked those fudge cookies for Scotts twelfth birthday” You remembered that party. You and Stiles were the only ones that came.

“Please, it was hardly half a gallon and I only drank it” you began, suddenly lowering your tone to a whisper “because those cookies were dry” You were acting as if Melissa was around the corner at risk of hearing you bash her baking skills.

“They were well-baked” Stiles whispered back. “More like burnt. They were literally black Stiles” For a moment it was like the two of you were kids again, sitting in Stiles room, discussing which superhero was the strongest. Stiles eyes searched yours and for the first time since seeing each other again, none of you looked away. “I’m sorry” Stiles mumbled softly. It was strange, and insanely cliché, but something inside you seemed to happen when he uttered those words. You wouldn’t call it heal but it was definitely along those lines.

“For what?”

The muscles in Stile’s jaw flexed. “everything” You looked down for a moment. Stile’s voice was low, and you could tell by his tone that he was being genuine. “I didn’t mean it” he continued. “I was mad, and…” he threw up a hand before letting it fall again “I snapped. I shouldn’t have but I did. But none of it meant anything”. “It’s fine, I get it. I shouldn’t have said those things about Lydia..especially since the two of actually....” For a moment it looked like Stiles had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. “Oh” he said as the realization hit. “Oh no, no me and Lydia aren’t... we’re friends. No, you were right about us” He paused for a moment. “My feelings, what I felt for Lydia...It wasn’t-” he searched for the right words. “Real. I made this, I had this idea of who she, of who I...” he shook his head. “anyway it doesn’t matter. What does though is that I never should have said the things I did. I ruined everything and...” He looked at you with such an intensity you wanted to look away but forced yourself not to. 

“I’m sorry” You leaned your body against the doorframe. You hadn’t realized how much you’d craved an apology until you got one. Suddenly it was like your hurt and anger didn’t matter as much as it used to. Perhaps it was the raging crush or mere wishful thinking, but you believed him. Believed him when he said he hadn’t mean it. A part of you must have always known, or at least hoped, that your friendship had been to real to not have meant something to him.

Your tone was low and soft. “It’s okay”

Stiles shook his head. “No, it’s not. But I’m going to make it up to you. I’ll do...”

You had a feeling the sentence was going to end with something along the lines of ‘I’ll do anything to fix our friendship’ or something equally as cheesy and you had to stop him. Not because it would be awkward as hell but because he needed to know you still had a crush on him and that being friends probably wasn’t the right way to go. You wish you could handle a friendship, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t be around with him without being with him. Your heart ached for him and knowing he didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him made it impossible to be near him. 

“Stiles…” you began, creasing your forehead. “I don’t think we can be friends” Your words clearly took him by surprise. “What? Why? Is it because?... I mean is it because of what I said? I swear, I really didn’t…” “It’s because I’m still love with you” you blurted. There was a moment of instant regret and you could feel every fiber of your body wanting to slam the door in his face, dive into bed and hide under the covers for the next few years.

Stiles stood there looking at you for what felt like hours. You sucked in a breath, feeling the panic in your chest “So… yeah that’s why and…”. Warm hands found their way to your cheeks and before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Stiles had pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours. It took a few seconds but when you were finally able to wrap your head around what was happening, a rush of ecstasy ran through you and you eagerly kissed him back. 

“Stiles” you whispered after a while. You didn’t want to end the kiss but knew you had to. Stiles, however seemed to have other plans and started trailing his lips down your jaw down to your neck. 

“Stiles, I’m literally standing on my front porch, dressed in mermaid shorts, holding a box of Frosties”

With a laugh Stiles pulled back. “Yeah, I meant to comment on those mermaids” he said. Rolling your eyes, you turned around to walk back into the house.   Stiles arms instantly found their way to your waist and he pressed you to him as he walked behind you. “What? I was going to say there are very fashional” “It’s fashionable, and I know” you said, not being able to hold back your smile. It was insane.

Seems like the two of you were finally the right people at the right time. 

Taglist: @loulouloueh

[hinaaspanda]

scrawny | pjs

Pairing: Bad Boy! Jisung x Chilhood Besfriend! Reader 

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, a lot of beating people up, **TW: minor instance of sexual battery, stops really early on**

Genre: Angst, some hints of fluff? 

Word Count: 10,805 whoops

It was expected that guilt etched itself into your heart. You were the reason Park Jisung was so beaten up, after all. You always were. 

inspired by the song Scrawny by the Wallows!

a/n; I apologize if the contents of this fic personally harm you in anyway; I really never meant to hurt anyone, I just wanted to write a more mature-themed fic. 

08 . 07 . 12

“You can’t beat me! I’m older and stronger than you, Sungie!” The high pitched voice of your prideful older brother irked your ears as you timidly picked on the weeds below your crouched knees. His hollers, coupled with laughs from his twin always ruined the calmness the breeze brought you. Your eyes glance towards the poor boy on the receiving end of the torture, none other than the boy next door, Park Jisung. You huffed out a sympathetic sigh. No matter how annoying your brothers get, that poor kid just a few feet away from you always had it worse.

Donghyuck, your first older brother, started at the neighbourhood weakling first. His fist hurled towards Jisung’s lower waist before the second member of this cursed partnership, Jeno, trapped the poor kid’s skull in a headlock. Jisungs figure plummeted into the grass, his small fists punching the air as he failed to fight back. Donghyuck belts out another one of his ear shattering howls before turning to your once peaceful frame. 

“Y/N! LOOK! WE BEAT JISUNG AGAIN!” 

Your hands find themselves tugging at the grass a little harder than you wanted to, the green residue staining your palms once you finally let go. You were almost at your limit with Donghyuck and Jeno, the two buttheads you had to call family. You had enough of it all. You stomp towards your brothers as rays of irritation emitted from you. 

“You two are so annoying sometimes! Can’t you just stay put and be quiet for ONCE?” you pleaded, your demanding voice throwing everyone at the park off, especially your two brothers. After all, you were always quiet, always patient with them. They watched fearfully as you gestured towards the poor Jisung lying limp on the grass, bloody bruises and scars covering up his once innocent skin. The air froze still as everyone on the playground waited for your next words. “And please stop hurting Jisung already! He’s younger than you, it’s not fair!”

Jisung winced at your words. He knew you'd say that he wasn’t strong enough. He rubs the fresh scab on his knee, his eyes concentrating on the drops of blood dripping down from it, in the hopes of distracting himself from his own confusing feelings. He knew he was weak, more than anyone else on this playground. But hearing it from you hurt just a little bit more.

The air between the four of you grew silent, the only thing making any noise was the wrestling leaves caught in the spring breeze. In any other occasion, you would have taken your time to relish this moment, but now you had your dumb, older brothers to take care of. You scan their seemingly scared figures before Donghyuck once again lets out an aggravating chuckle. 

“You can’t talk to us like that!!” Donghyuck suddenly gave you a stern look, slightly shaking his head in disappointment, as Jeno stepped beside him. “You better watch your mouth, y/n. We’re older than you, remember?”

Fear shot down your spine. What were you thinking? You’d practically be dead meat once your mom finds out you yelled at them! You sealed your eyes as you braced for impact, impact of your brothers lecturing fists breaking your frame. Impact that, also, never seemed to actually occur. Slowly your eyes opened, revealing something jaw dropping. 

Jisung’s back faced you, his stance showing an essence of power his 10 year old figure never showed before. His hands, already bruised and crumpled into fists, lowered themselves to his side as your older brothers both took their turn laying defeated on the beat up grass. Groaning in pain, Donghyuck cuddled his newly injured torso, while Jeno soothed his side with the back of his palm. 

“Don’t talk to y/n like that, Donghyuck.” Jisung boomed, his eyes never leaving the sight of the two conquered 12 year olds still drowning in pain. 

 Later that night, you watched as all three boys sunk into an endless night of lectures about not getting into fights, a night you were luckily allowed to skip. Your mind runs back to that earth shattering scene, your brothers lying below the neighborhood weakling, his stance more powerful than those of superheros. You watched Jisung trot home from your bedroom window

Maybe Park Jisung isn’t so weak after all.

...

05 . 16 . 15

“Zhong Chenle, If you make us late to class ONE MORE TIME I swear I will hurt you.” You threaten your new neighbour on the phone. You rubbed your temples with the nimble pads of your fingers, knowing full well Chenle hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet. 

“Hold on! I’m almost ready, just give me like five more minutes!” 

“You said that ten minutes ago!” 

“I mean it this time! I swear!” 

“Just hurry up, ok?” You pleaded before cutting the call. As you hastily shoved your phone into your jacket pocket, a disheveled Chenle emerged from his front door, the piece of toast hanging from his lips reminiscent of those anime girls Donghyuck always drooled over. 

You could still remember the day Chenle came into your life, taking over the vacant house beside yours. His bubbly, cheerful demeanour taking over your entire summer with all these trips to the basketball court and raids at the neighbourhood convenience store. In your eyes, he was the perfect addition to your neighbourhood friend group, which at that point in your life, only consisted of you and the neighborhood scrawny boy, Park Jisung. Well, that’s what you thought at least. 

As the days diverted from bright and sunny, to cold and frigid, and as the three of you grew more overwhelmed with middle school, Jisung grew more and more distant. As for the reason? Well, you wanted to know more than anyone, but that puzzle was harder to crack than any of your grade 7 homework. These days, it was so rare to see his face, you almost forgot he shared a class with you, or still resided six steps beside your house. 

“When do you think Jisung’s gonna hang out with us again?” Chenle’s abrupt voice awoke you from your sorrowful slumber. Your head sinks down, your eyes watching your feet on the subway floor. “I don’t know, Chenle.”  

 Your ears couldn’t help but drown out your teacher’s voice as they taught today’s lesson. You had other things to worry about, anyways. Like what you were going to eat today, or how your hair looked tied up like how it is now. But more importantly, what was going through his mind from across the classroom. It wasn’t long before the bell finally rang, signaling the student’s freedom. Your exhausted eyes watched as the herd of teenagers crowded the exit, leaving three figures inside and all alone; you, Chenle, and Jisung. 

From the corner of your eye, you watch Chenle slumps his bag over his shoulders as he, with overflowing panic, shuffled towards the brooding teenager, who looked like he was just staring at you a minute ago. Off to the side, you prayed for Chenle’s success. Or more accurately, his safety. 

“H-hey Jisung, do you wanna, uh, walk home with us?” 

Jisung pondered for a little bit, then continued.

“...us?”

“Yeah, me and y/n.” Chenle raised a palm in your direction while Jisung’s eyes followed almost instantly. All while you tried your best to hide the fact you were watching all of this go down. 

You sensed a shift in Jisungs mood just then, going from simply tired and wanting to head home already, to… anger? Why would he be angry?

“No thanks, you guys can go ahead”

Jisung shot up from his desks, various chairs and classroom furniture shivering in fear. Jisung winced at those words. The same sting he felt all those years ago at the playground with Donghyuck and Jeno, ripped through his chest. But it wasn’t like he was being called weak, or that he needed to prove his worth. No, it was simply that you were with someone else. Not with him.  “But we all live on the same street.”

“I’m fine, Chenle”

“Come on, man-”

Suddenly, Jisung whipped around, facing the innocent transfer student. He shot him one last glare before sending his figure to the ground with his fist, faster than the bullet train that provided you a ride to school this morning. Chenle let out a howl of pain as you bounced out of your seat, coming to his aid. Jisung watches as you hold Chenle’s body close, closer than he would’ve liked, before sending you a glare as well. 

“Stay away from y/n” He huffed before trekking away from the scene of his own crime. You follow closely behind, the zipper of your bag opening wider as you drag it along.

“Jisung!” You cry, your eyes scanning the halls for your neighbor, your neighbor that was always full of surprises. You finally find him slowly making his way towards the school doors before he stops, turning around to face you.

You never really noticed how much he grew over these few years. Now, his figure was taller, much taller than yours ever could be, easily towering over your small frame. His shoulders were broader, he looked meaner. This wasn’t your scrawny neighbourhood friend any more. 

“What?” He muttered, his face noticeably softer now that Chenle was out of his sight. His fingers gripped the strap of his bag as he stared you down, watching you fumble with your own words. He would rather die than admit it, but you looked cute, all nervous like that.

“Why’d you hit Chenle?”

“I-” Now he was the stuttering mess. “I don’t know”

He paused, his suddenly guilty eyes meeting yours. “I didn’t like him being with you.” 

You could almost laugh in disbelief. Was he being serious? Your head cocks to the side while your arms cross into themselves. “Jisung, please”

Jisung held his head down, knowing full well of how lame he was right now. Your eyes however, tried finding his again. Reassurance etched in each of your pupils as you lightly nudged his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry Jisung, I’m not gonna leave you.” 

His frame brightened up instantaneously as you watched him practically jump for joy at your words. So after all those years, Jisung was still a big softie, huh? 

“Now, go apologize to Chenle and let’s all go home together, ok?” You spun around, back to the classroom. Jisung swiftly trailed behind you. Of course he didn’t think twice about his apology. Sure, his pride was at stake, but for you? Park Jisung would do anything. 

...

04 . 10 . 17

“Get off me, you freak!” The pinned down middle schooler scowled under the grasp of Jisung’s bloodied knuckles. He gasped for air as Jisung clamped his hands down in a chokehold. Jisung tired his best to shoot him a mean glare through his bruised and blackened eye. 

“Don’t you dare touch y/n like that, got it?” He growled, his eyes never leaving the sight of the suffering student. Jisung watched as he desperately pried himself away from Jisung’s grasp. He deserved this, though. That moron had zero right grazing his against your thigh. Especially not on his watch. 

“It was an accident!” The student dizzily coughed out, his neck still trapped between Jisungs strong palms. “I won’t do it again, alright? Just let me go already!!” 

Like the parting of the red sea, Jisung’s palms subsided from the student’s neck, finally setting him free. The student collapsed to the ground, hissing in pain before sending Jisung a dirty look. The various students that once crowded around the scene rushed away to the sounds of an irritated teacher, leaving an awestruck Chenle, a damaged Jisung, and your guilt ridden self behind in the third year hallway. It was expected that guilt etched itself into your heart. You were the reason Park Jisung was always so beaten up, after all. You always were. 

Your sorrowful frame couldn’t muster up the courage to spit out a cohesive sentence before the P.A. system blasted through your ears. The next words that deadpan, robotic voice would utter were terribly easy to predict. 

“Park Jisung to the principal’s office, please. Park Jisung to the principal’s office. Thank you.” 

“Ow! That stings!” Jisung seethed, his hands, newly patched the moment you retired home for the night, digging into your teddy bear’s flesh as you applied the medicine to his wounded cheekbone. You scoffed beside him, picking up more medicine with the q-tip in your hand. “Well, it wouldn’t have to sting if you didn’t beat up that kid in the first place!” 

“He touched you weirdly!” He groaned in pain as you plopped another layer of that ice cold medicine he hated. 

“It was an accident! And he apologized before you choked him to near-death!” You shot back, your grip on the q-tip growing tighter. A sensation you noticed only happened whenever emotions overflowed in your heart. The pads of your fingertips gently spread a bandaid over his callous skin as the air in your bedroom grew tense. Your chest pushed out a heaving sigh. “I’m sorry, y/n.”

“I can take care of myself, Jisung.” You glanced down, cleaning up the mess from your first-aid kit. “So please, stop hurting yourself for me. I hate seeing you all beat up like this, Sungie.” 

Sungie. Sungie. It sent butterflies to his stomach. That simple childish nickname, pulling him back to that playground. The start of his fighting career. He didn’t care if that was some random nickname from Donghyuck. It sounded better when you said it. Much, much better. 

Jisung awoke from his daze as he felt a pair of lips softly graze his newly mended cheek. His head whipped fast to face you, but barely catching up to the record breaking speed of his ears turning pink. With his cheeks soon following after. His eyes, wider than any body of ocean found on this planet, flusteredly stared you down with only one question in mind. What. Was. That.

You held your clumsy eye contact as you leaned away from your rushed, but sweet, kiss. “Please?” You barely let out in a whisper. Jisung let out a soft grin, his hand hesitantly brushing yours. 

“Alright.” 

You once again watched Jisung trek the four steps to his front door before freefalling onto your bed, a full on, red-cheeked, flustered mess. Lee y/n, what the hell is wrong with you. 

...

07 . 23 . 17

The ice cream melting at such a rapid pace underneath the scolding summer heat was the least of your and Chenle’s concerns. Not with the moving truck parked outside the house of your childhood neighbor and friend?, Park Jisung. After sending flabbergasted looks to each other, the two of you bolted to the front door, disregarding any need of cleaning up after yourselves.

You couldn’t keep still as Chenle banged his fist on the door. Was he moving out? You thought back to this summer. The countless nights the three of you would relish in each other’s company, whether it would be just resting on one of your beds, scrolling through your phones, or at the playground, taking turns on the ancient swings. You smiled to yourself, remembering how Jisung would never swing himself, opting to just push you instead. Would you ever see him again? Your heart cracked open just a little bit at that last thought. The possibility of him leaving you? It hurt more than any punch or chokehold could. 

Suddenly, the tired figure of Jaemin, Jisung’s level-headed older brother, emerged. His irritated expression contrasting his welcoming gestures as he allowed the two of you inside without saying a word. And while you had nothing against Jaemin, you really wanted to see Jisung. That boy had some explaining to do.

“Boarding school!? Overseas!?” You and Chenle collectively yelp in surprise, the lemonade Jaemin generously provided you quivering in response. 

“Yeah, our parents thought it was a good way to calm him down, get rid of that fighting habit he got over the years.” Jaemin informed. “He left yesterday, didn’t he tell you?” 

Your lip bled as you bit into its flesh. No, he didn’t tell you. But you had a strong gut feeling you were the very reason for that hiatus he was taking from your life. You couldn’t help but lock yourself in your bedroom for the rest of the night, against poor Chenle’s wishes. All of it, everything was your fault. Park Jisung wasn’t the weakling, now. You were. 

...

03 . 18 . 19

The azure sky looked almost haunted at night. Chills raged through your spine as you, and an exhausted Chenle, shuffled your way home. Your plastic bag of trophies, commemorating another shop raid, hung loosely from your fingertips. Your figure gravitated towards the worn out playground bench as Chenle let out another ear piercing yawn. You were glad he didn’t retire to his own home just yet, though. You enjoyed his company. 

“God! My brother’s stuff was such a pain to lug around!” Chenle screeched, soothing his lower back with his palm as you opened one of the few soft drinks you earned from the convenience shop. “Why’d he have’ta move out for college now?” 

“It’s not like he had a choice, you know.” you fought. “School does start back up tomorrow.” 

“Don’t start with that now, y/n.” Chenle enveloped his forehead in his hands in a petrified manner, as you tried your best to stifle your laughter away. “uGH! SCHOOL’S SUCH A PAIN!!” 

You took another sip of your ice cold drink, the can so frozen, it felt hot against your skin. You, however, didn’t really hate the idea of highschool starting up again. You weren’t some measly, small first year anymore. You actually had friends now. But of course, it was a good distraction from the 2 year childhood-neighbour-sized hole in your heart. 

“You’re still thinking about him, huh?” Chenle leaned on the opposing side of the wooden park bench, taking a monstrous bite of the chocolate bar he threw aside his 2 dollars for. You sent him a stare, one conveying an emotion even you couldn’t pinpoint. “You already know what I’m gonna say, Chenle.” 

Chenle let out a light scoff before softly tapping the exposed skin of your forehead with his knuckles. You squirm, interrupting the calmness that was sipping your drink. You hated that out of all the habits Chenle could have developed, flicking your forehead was one of them. “Don’t worry! All you need to do is distract yourself, and I bet you’ll find one once school starts!”

You tilted your head up to the stars, your eyes shifting to the left as they gazed upon a familiar set of navy window curtains. While Chenle’s harmless habit did nudge you a bit, your own habit of missing Park Jisung, was more detrimental to you than any weak forehead flick could be. 

...

“We have a new student today…” The monotonous voice of your newly appointed teacher for the year already blew your ears dry with boredom as your eyes dug through every corner and crevice of this bland classroom for a way to keep you awake. But you deserved some slack to be cut in your favour. It was 9 am in the morning, you would rather be anywhere else but here at the moment. Your eyes were about to roll back in pure exhaustion as your teacher gestured towards the classroom door.

As if on cue, a towering figure sauntered in, woahs and gasps bouncing on the beige walls. You could feel Chenle’s stupefied look burning through the nape of your neck, but you were too trapped in your shock to give him a reciprocating stare. Not with him right in the center of your view. 

His uniform wasn’t remotely set on his frame correctly. The paper-like school blouse, which was supposed to be fully buttoned, was opened up, exposing a black graphic t-shirt splattered with text you never considered to be school-appropriate. In place of the faded-plaid, beige trousers that coupled with your uniform, tight black jeans hugged his legs, the gaping rips showcasing old and newer bruises and scars. A small chain hugged his left hip as your teacher once again gestured to the center 

“Everyone, please welcome, Park Jisung!” 

You knew you were just scanning and processing his appearance like two seconds ago. But finally having that name rip through your ears, you could almost explode from the overwhelmness. 

God, can I just pass away now?

...

“Y/n, I won’t ever leave you again.” Jisung’s husky voice brushed through your ears softly, as he cradled your frame, your faces just centimeters apart. His eyes, with all the stars in the sky trapped inside, gave you a look of sincerity you haven’t properly felt in such a long time. He scooped your hair behind your ear before letting out another heart fluttering whisper. 

“Be with me, y/n. Let’s run away together, hm?” 

“Y/n? Y/N!” The dolphin-esque hollers of Zhong Chenle, combined with the faded ruckus of your school’s cafeteria, jolted you awake from your fantasy as cheap bronze tinted soft drink catapulted itself into the innocence of your white school uniform. Snorts and giggles filled the chests of your friends, especially Chenle’s, as he skipped away to get you a paper towel. 

“You seem so out of it.” The voice of a concerned Sungchan your一classmate and resident caretaker一notices, handing you the towel Chenle oh so urgently retrieved. 

“When am I ever in it?” you scowled as you began destroying the fabric with the white cloth. It earned a sweet chuckle as Sungchan discreetly slid the bottle of pop away from your grasp, avoiding another image-wrecking incident. He shined a refreshing grin in your direction as Chenle bounced back onto the lunch table. 

“She was probably just bein’ emo about Jisung again, leave her be, Sungchan.” Chenle leaned in to inspect your once again dazed figure, the clicks of his judging tongue just pissing you off a little more than it usually did. “Weren’t you, y/n?”

Of course you were, you always were.

“Park Jisung? The new kid? He was an asshole to her, she's allowed to be mad, right?” The other new addition to this weird clique (and your saving grace), Shotaro, chimed in.

Chenle let out another snort, his knowing eyes now glaring at yours. “You would think so, Sho, you would think so.” 

“Okay. But he still outright ignored her, right? That’s still a pretty bad move” Shotaro rebutted. Chenle’s eyes went from devious to anxious in a heartbeat as the air around you grew silent. 

Yes, Park Jisung一your friend and neighbour for almost all of your life, did indeed ignore you after two whole years of little to no contact. And yes, you were bitter about it. Hell, it broke your heart, smashed it into pieces better than any one of his anger filled punches could. The way his eyes never fully reached yours, his cold, irritated expression. His back turned away from you, this time in an effort to hurt you. 

Although, he shouldn’t have this effect on you. For two years, you were deprived of his dangerous yet heartwarming company. You were left alone, ignored via text, forgotten. You could handle this. You watched as he shuffled past your table silently, earning gasps from the audience of students as the delinquent character he recently shifted into. You could handle leaving Jisung. Right?

“I know what could get your mind off that asshole!” Sungchan suddenly chirped beside you, earning the eyes of a curious Shotaro and a confused Chenle. You however, tuned in as fast as humanly possible, praying for any decent distraction you could get. 

“Let’s go on a date.” 

Jisung couldn’t pry his eyes off your figure, glistening under the afternoon sun that peeked through the cafeteria windows. Your attention, laid on anything else but him as you chatted away with your new friends. He stabbed the stale food with the flimsy plastic fork as he watched you, from the other side of the room, let out your signature laugh; a window-wiper sounding chuckle that you always shielded with your hand. He hated that hand part, though, your smile was too pretty to hide.

Despite your upbeat demeanour, he knew you. Confused at his lack of connection, the barren text threads on your phone. He knew you were probably furious at him right now, for not even sparing her a glance throughout class. And despite how much he just wishes to just stomp on over to you, pick up your precious frame, and kiss you right then, he couldn’t. 

He scans his morning old text threads, finding any way to distract himself from the fanservice playing in his thoughts. He clicks the most recent thread, a thread that only made him regret his decision to pick up his phone ever. 

Jaem Bro [8:46am]: have fun at school :)

Jaem Bro [8:46am]: remember what mom said, too. don’t talk to y/n 

Jaem Bro [8:47am]: she’ll only bring back your bad habits

Jisung scowls as he shoves his phone away. 

Piss off, Jaemin. 

...

“I had fun today.” Sungchan hummed as he practically skipped beside you that Saturday night. His towering figure shielded you from the glaring light of the street lamp as you softly hummed a response. “Yeah, I had fun too.”

Of course you weren’t lying. All in all, you truly did have a good time on your date. Sungchan kept his promise, all while enjoying kittens at a cat cafe, demolishing your self esteem at the arcade, and even feeding you food you never thought a 17 year old could afford. For the whole day, it felt like that Jisung-shaped hole in your heart was filled, simply retiring into an afterthought. And that would be true, if you hadn’t passed by an all too familiar bedroom as you walked home that night. 

It was an all too familiar feeling, the clenching of your heart as you gazed upon those curtains. His bed, which was also in view, sending you memories of patching that clumsy boy up almost every day. It all washed back to you. Sungchan suddenly nudged your side, waking you up from your cursed thought train. But after seeing what he saw, all you could do was yearn to return back to your dreamland.

To say that Jisung’s eyes simply widened at the sight of you, grinning sweetly at another guy, would be a definite understatement. He came so close to dropping his newly opened soda can as a series of texts shifted into his mind 

Don’t talk to y/n, she’ll only bring back your bad habits.

Jisung clenches his jaw watching you giggle at that asshole’s (presumably bad) joke. Maybe Jaemin was right. Maybe he shouldn’t talk to you anymore. You clearly didn’t need him now. 

“Jisung?” You yelped, stunned. Jisung watched you slowly inch back closer to that beanpole. He felt his limbs being pulled back into his fighting habits, jealousy burning through his lips. His hands, still off to his sides, balling up into fists. Someone was gonna get hurt tonight.

“Were you guys on a date?” 

“We-”

“Yeah, we were'' Sungchan cut in, his arm shielding you from Park Jisung’s wrath. “Got a problem with that, buddy?”

Steam puffed from Jisung’s ears as he stalked towards Sungchan. “You got some nerve talking to me like that, buddy” Jisung hissed. He was at his limit. He gave Sungchan one last nasty look. Target: Acquired. Except, with the last two years of zero practice under his belt, his aim wasn’t exactly good. It was horrible, actually.

It all happened too fast for you, one second you were safely guarded by Sungchan’s shoulder. The next? Lying limp at the mercy of Jisung’s hatred-filled fist. His knuckles jabbing deep into the crevice of your cheekbone. Deep down, you knew it was probably just an accident. But your heart didn’t listen to you. It never did.

“Ji-” You could barely muster through your own tears. You wanted to scream from the pain. But not just the physical pain. 

Jisung stood frozen before your defeated figure. Shit. What the hell was wrong with him. All he wanted was to knock out that asshole for a little bit.

“I-” Jisung stammered

“Forget it, Jisung. Quit being an asshole and leave me alone!” You spat out those last few words a little louder than you intended to as you wobbled up, storming away. Away from him, away from Sungchan and your own home. You didn’t care how far you’d go. You didn't care about the sudden rainfall pouring on you. Your mind just told you one thing and one thing only. Run

I hate you so much, Park Jisung.

Jisung waited for the sky to dress into its daily midnight attire before finally ducking into the comfort of his own home. He was overwhelmed, to say the least. Pissed, definitely, with that Sungchan asshole just existing around you. Tired, for staying out till 1 in the morning again. But mostly guilt, for being the very reason your eyes weren’t completely dry that night. He knew he was gonna regress into his fighting habits soon enough, but never like this. His eyes glazed over his screen clicking on a familiar contact.

“You WHAT?” Chenle shocked what was left of Jisung’s poor eardrum as he gawked in full astonishment. Jisung couldn’t see Chenle’s face, but he knew for a fact it was scrunching up in confusion. Jisung watched the still streetlight from his bedroom window, guilt still welling up in him.  “Man, what am I gonna do?” 

“Oh, I don’t know? Apologize?”

“How am I gonna do it? She’s not gonna wanna talk to me after this! I’m screwed!” Chenle grew silent on the other line, his brain striking an idea harder than the sudden rain pour.  “That’s it! Sung, what’s y/n’s favorite thing to buy at the shop? The one down our street?” 

Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed. “...She likes their ramen a lot, but what’s that got to do with any of this?”

“Meet me at the shop tomorrow morning. I know how to fix this.”

...

“SUNGIEEE!” Donghyuck shrieked, throwing Jisung off of his caution-filled thought process as the front door blew wide open. Although, it wasn’t much of a thought process, but rather just the repeated question of What the hell am I doing here, and you, of course. But no matter, you were always running through his mind anyways. Donghyuck pulled Jisung into a tight, brotherly hug. “Where have ya been?? I missed you!” 

Jisung shined a bogus smile at his childhood bully. This better fucking work, Zhong Chenle. 

Jisungs legs drowned in a pool of hesitance as he shuffled into your home, his ears shielding the irritable rambles of Lee Donghyuck, one half of the annoying Lee Twins duo. He didn’t care if he hadn't seen Donghyuck’s face in over two years, the only thing he searched for was you.

“You’re here for y/n right? She got a cold from the rain last night, but I could probably let you in.” Donghyuck informed, as if he could read Jisung’s mind.

“You should hurry up and be our in-law soon, Sungie!” He nudged Jisung’s arm a few times, a mischievous grin suggesting that he either read into his mind a little too much, or that Jisung was just blatantly obvious about his feelings. He prayed that it wasn’t the latter. Another figure suddenly emerged from the kitchen, giving Donghyuck a nice, crisp slap on the nape of his neck. 

“Oi, quit bein’ such a creep, will you?” Lee Jeno, the other, more down-to-earth half of the Lee twins, defied. “He’s 17, dumbass.”

Donghyuck jokingly wailed in pain, a habit he's kept since childhood, apparently. Jeno turned his attention to Jisung, a sympathetic stare shining in his eyes. At least he turned out half-way decent. 

“Y/n’s upstairs if you need her, but uh-” Jeno scratches his head. “I don’t think she wants to see you, or anyone, really.”

“That’s fine,” Jisung’s eyes ducked to the bag of snacks hanging from his hand. “I’ll just drop these off and head out.” 

“Don’t have too much fun, Sung-OW!” Donghyuck chirped, irking Jisung as he earned a slap on the shoulder from his twin. Thank god for Jeno.

Your aching head actually didn’t hurt that much, at least compared to the pain of your brooding heart. You watched a leaf fall to the ground from your bedroom window. The pain still piercing through your side, the guilt for leaving Sungchan behind at the playground, or the  confusing monstrosity of Park Jisung, it all overtook you. Your measly little brain couldn’t handle it. 

The creaking of the door wasn’t enough to spin you back to reality, but apparently, his cautious footsteps were. Your head snapped forward, your eyes meeting the view of his ripped jeans, and a plastic bag littered with snacks. Of course.

“Jisung?”

“H-hey”

You watched as Jisung stammered under his breath. He looked so nervous facing you, worlds more nervous than moment’s before one of his brawling sessions.

Jisung’s eyes kept rejecting yours as he fumbled with the plastic bag amidst his grasp. To be completely honest, Jisung was sure you wouldn’t even let him in, much less talk to him. Even if it was in such a cold manner. He shuffled towards her laying figure, his eyes still glued to the wall as he hands her the plastic bag. 

“I, uh一no, my mom wanted me to give you this.” Jisung stuttered.

You dig through the bag, the only thing trapped within it bound to give you diabetes. You scoff. “Your mom wants me to eat instant noodles?” 

Shit, right. That doesn’t make any sense. 

“Ahaha, yea” Jisung trailed off, backing away from you before proceeding to brutally stab his elbow onto your door handle. Who’s dumb idea was it to name it the funny bone, anyways? Nothing about it was funny. He lets out a soft hiss after finally turning away from you. Well, maybe Jisung himself was, he was a clown, afterall. 

“Wait.” You suddenly squeaked, making Jisungs' shoulders jerk up. Was she gonna-

“Come help me.” You handed him the cup noodles, wanting nothing but to laugh at his stupid, stupifyied face. You sniffled. “I can’t make noodles by myself like this, you  idiot.”

“Oh, right.” Park Jisung, you absolute clown. 

...

Out of all the situations you could get stuck in, the last one you expected was in your bedroom, trapped in an annoying cold whilst being fed instant noodles by your childhood neighbor, Park Jisung, three whole days after that incident. You watched as his plastic fork, etched in a tremble that had you thinking he was going to die that instant, hastily scooped the processed food before making its way to your mouth. 

However, and you would rather die than admit it, but you missed this warm sensation. You missed the company Jisung provided, the way he would grow soft just for you, moments after beating up some stupid kid. The countless bandages you used in his favour as you patched him up almost every night. You missed it all. And despite having him back in your street, he never really came back to your life. It was all different now. 

You watched him chuck the fork into the now empty noodle bowl, his next few actions sending you on the verge of cardiac arrest. 

With a tissue in hand, Jisung suddenly leaned in, his eyes still veering away from yours as he wiped off some stain on your cheeks. There could have also been no stain at all, and this was just a ruse to get you flustered. Park Jisung has gotten good at playing with your heart lately. His chest was just centimeters apart from yours, any closer and your thumping heart would be completely exposed, not that your vermillion cheeks weren’t a dead give away already. 

“A-am I too close?” Jisung barely whispered. Half of you wanted to say yes, while the other half wanted to pull him even closer. You couldn’t handle this anymore. 

“Why are you here, Jisung?” You suddenly blurted out as you grabbed a hold of his gentle wrist. “And I know it wasn’t for some stupid noodles.”

Jisung’s chest caved in as he let out a sigh. “I, uh wanted to say sorry.”

Your mind flashes back to that night, the image of his fierce, cold eyes still sending shivers down your spine. Jisung continues, his eyes finally holding yours hostage. Here goes nothing.

“I'm sorry for punching you, for making you run away like that.” His guilt ridden eyes scan your bed-ridden frame. “All of this, it’s all my fault.” His eyes collected the stars that hid beneath the afternoon sky. “If you wanna stop talking to me after this, I understand. I’m not good enough for you.” 

There goes your heart again, clenching at anything related to Park Jisung. You hated how he had that effect on you. Yet you also loved it. You let out a soft chuckle sending waves of hope to him. You could never really reject him, could you?

“You really are annoying, sometimes.” You gaze at him, a small grin lining your lips. “But, I don’t think I wanna stop talking to you just yet.” The way Jisung’s frame brightens up the same way it did all those years ago, didn’t fail to warm your heart. “I’ll forgive you, Park Jisung.” 

Without thinking, Jisung pulls you into a gentle hug. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, Jisung softly smiled. No matter how many times Jaemin could nag him, Jisung could never stay away from you. His life was finally back to normal.

“Oh! one more thing!” You murmured. He smiled at you sweetly, giving you the signal to continue. 

“Sungchan’s one of my good friend’s, so please, don’t try and beat him up? And maybe you could even hang out with Chenle and them at school! There’s some new guys there that I think you’d get along with great!” You suggested, your bright demeanour too strong for Jisung’s poor eyes. “Would you at least try? Promise?” 

Jisung shrugged. I mean it wouldn’t hurt. He sends you another soft smile. “Yeah, I promise.”

...

“That’s why you ask for help, dumbass!” Shotaro barked at Chenle, who was currently slumped on the lunch table, brooding about his not so stellar math grade.

“You, good sir, have NO right to talk.” Chenle proudly clapped back. “Mr. ‘35% in english’.” Chenle heaves out an over-exaggerated sigh. “If only y/n was here today, she is the smart one.” 

“Yeah, but it isn’t that hard being the smart one around you, Lele.” Jisung shielded Chenle’s incoming offended slap to the shoulder as he nibbled on the plastic straw drowning in his vending machine soft drink. It alarmed him how fast he mended with your friend group, even if it did just consist of that dolphin brat he’s known for years, and probably the sweetest guy he's ever come across, Shotaro. Then again, maybe he shouldn’t beat up every guy he comes across. 

Jisung glances around the table, where only three chairs were actually occupied. Doesn’t that Sungchan guy hang out here?

“Where’s Sungchan?” Jisung drew in the attention of his new friend. Shotaro’s fingers tapped the plastic table. “It’s weird, he only hangs out with us sometimes, whenever he feels like it, I guess.” Whenever y/n’s around, you mean, Jisung corrected in his head. 

“Or...” Chenle pitched in. “He didn’t wanna hang out with someone who was about to punch him.” Crap. He should probably apologize for that.

“Wait what?”

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it! Ahaha!” Jisung quickly cut off Shotaro, the fear of getting incredibly embarrassed riling through him. He hoisted the empty soda can in between his fingertips before standing up on his two feet. “I’ll, uh, get another one.” 

  Jisung couldn’t have felt more creepy than he did at that very moment, peeking through the heads of various students as he eyes Sungchan. His mind flashes a very cute image of you, smiling just as softly as you do both three days and two years ago. His breaths grew heavy. This was gonna be easy, just apologize to Sungchan and maybe become his friend, then y/n can really be happy. Jisung let out a deep sigh. For y/n. 

He hesitantly sauntered towards the beanpole currently reaching for his newly paid drink at the vending machine. From the looks of it, this Sungchan guy couldn’t hear Jisung’s calls, making him yell louder. He could feel the stares of the confused highschool students burn through him. God, how annoying can this asshole get?

“Here to finish what you started, Park?” Sungchan suddenly sneered, his eyes narrowing nonchalantly at the Park in question. His laid back posture screaming 'you don't wanna mess with me.'  Jisung raised an eyebrow, scanning Sungchan's current figure, which didn't match with his image from that night. Taken aback at the sudden mood shift, Jisung stuttered. “No, uh, I wanted to say sorry about that, actually.” 

“Save it” Sungchan spat. His eyes fully locked in with Jisung’s before ripping them away at the last second. He encased a white box in his hand before pivoting on his heel. “I'm going for a smoke.”

Jisung eyes go wide. Who the hell is this guy? Sungchan didn’t spare the poor boy a glance before slipping through the school's only emergency exit. Various phrases, all containing the word ‘asshole’, ran through Jisung’s mind as he followed Sungchan, trying his best to remind himself that this was all for you.

The outdoor air brushed lightly against Jisung’s skin, coating him in a refreshing hug. With the pearly blue sky above him, and the lush green trees shading his face, he would’ve relished in the afternoon breeze. He would’ve, if it weren’t for the cigarette smoke overtaking him, all coming from that damn beanpole. 

“What the hell do you want from me, Park” Sungchan hissed, a cloud escaping his lips before whipping around. “Are you here to make friends or some shit?” Jisung threw a hesitant nod at his direction. 

“Look, Sungchan. Let’s just try to get along. For y/n’s sake. That's all she wants.” Jisung extended a hand to Sungchan, only to earn another annoying ass chuckle. “Why would I wanna do something like that for y/n?”

“Don’t you like her or whatever?” 

“No, are you stupid?” 

Jisung’s eyebrows stitched together in confusion.  “Then why-”

“Isn’t it obvious, Park?” Sungchan, stenchy cigarette breath and all, leaned in. God, Jisung wanted to puke right in front of him. “She's hot. I want her.” 

Jisung pondered for a few minutes, and honestly? He wished he never put two and two together. He couldn’t help but hiss under his breath as his hands balled up into their iconic fists. The random dates? The nice guy image? It was all for that? This bastard wanted to take your innocence away. And this bastard had the audacity to hurl another snicker at Jisung. 

“You do know what I’m talking about, right?” Sungchan kissed his cigarette one last time before tossing it to the gravel, the poor paper feeling the wrath of his sneakers. “I wanna have sex-”

Jisung didn’t give him the chance to finish before crushing his gut between the school’s brick wall and his iron fist. Jisung leaned in, his eyes burning with a fury he hadn’t felt in nearly two years. “You’ll be dead before you get the chance to even touch her, got that?” 

Sungchan let out a mighty growl of pain, bending away as Jisung reconnected his fist to Sungchan’s right cheek. The beanpole flew to the ground, red blood spewing from his nose. Jisung scoffed, standing tall with not a single scratch on his skin. For a little while, at least. 

Suddenly, Sungchan flung himself back to his feet, his bruised fist upper-cutting Jisung’s jaw off its course before pinning him down to the stiff hard rock of the pavement. His hands pressed themselves onto each side of Jisung’s neck as the boy underneath gasped for air. Jisung’s fingers clamp onto Sunchan’s wrists, pulling for an escape as Sungchan spits out another irking laugh. “You’re not the only one who can put up a good fight, Park”

Jisung sounded off shallow breaths beneath Sungchan’s grasp. “Why would you...y/n…”

“I’m only human, Park. I got needs. And y/n? she was all depressed, just begging for the attention. It only made sense.” 

Jisung sent a knee through Sungchans chest, rolling on top of him before staining Sungchan with punches all over his skin. Jisung’s fingers tense up around Sungchan's shirt collar as brings him closer, hissing at his leftover cigarette breath. “That doesn’t give you any damn right to fuck her.”

“Why do you care so much? Last time I checked, you left her without saying a word! Looks to me like you're the last person who she would care about.” 

Those texts he left unopened abroad, the missed calls, the wanting stares you sent him on his first day back. It all washed back to Jisung like a typhoon. This bastard was right, he couldn’t protect you like this anymore, he didn’t have the right. He broke your heart over and over again. He was the last person you needed. But no. The bastard needed to be taught a lesson; don't ever mess with his girl. 

“Cause I love her, and I won't let you have her.” Jisung suddenly blurted out, praying that the redness on his cheeks was simply blood. Sungchan let out a heaving chuckle. “Oh? Even more of a reason, then!”

Jisung hissed one final time before trapping Sungchan between his legs, throwing heavy punches left and right, staining his shirt, his fists, Sungchan’s face, and the ground with blood. Like a bomb moments before its explosion, there was no stopping him, he was trapped by his own haze of violence. The only thing pulling him back to reality were Shotaro’s arms as he and Chenle guided the two bruised bodies to the nurse’s office. 

I’m sorry, y/n. I really am. 

...

The image of a bloodied Sungchan, alongside an equally bloodied Jisung, was the last thing you wanted to wake up to from your hefty slumber. Your phone practically levitated from all the buzzing. People you faintly knew, and even some you didn’t, all came to you in utter fear. God, and to think you were on a break.

Y/N!! Sungchan and Jisung were fighting in the parking lot!

Y/N!! You need to come over here asap!!!

You need to control your boys y/n, someone could get seriously injured!!

You couldn’t help but laugh at that last hasty message. It’s too late to worry about someone getting injured. Especially if it’s Park Jisung in question. You glance at probably the only contact that hasn’t, well, contacted you. Your finger, laced with anger, clicks the screen. Park Jisung, you’ve got some explaining to do. 

“You don’t understand!” Jisung’s mighty croak pounded through your phone speaker. However, your attention slowly began to drift away. It only made sense, that’s the fifth time he’s pulled that excuse in this call, alone. “That Sungchan guy is a complete asshole!!” 

“You say that about every damn guy I talk to, Jisung!” You nagged, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head in disappointment. Some things just couldn’t change, could they?

“Y/n, I’m telling you!! He’s not as nice as you think he is!” You clenched your phone, agitation seeping through your teeth. Couldn’t he just listen to you for once? “He’s got bad motives, y/n, you don’t wanna hang around someone like him. There’s so many bad things he's hiding from you. The bastard smokes, fights regularly, too, and…”

You heaved out a deep sigh, your knuckles turning white from your angry grip on the bed sheet. First, he pulls the same damn excuses, and then he lies? You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“And what? Jisung? What other lies are you gonna tell me?” Silence cuts through your speaker, finally giving your irritated heart a chance to breathe before Jisung continues. 

“Wait...you think I’m lying about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re saying that a highschooler smokes! Jeez, if you didn’t like Sungchan you could’ve just said so!” 

“You know I wouldn't lie to you, y/n!” Your buzzing figure leans back into your castle of stuffed animals as your bellows gradually get louder with each passing argument. 

“I thought I knew, but you’re really making me second guess things. I’m tired of this, Jisung.” You finally hiss before ending the call, leaving Park Jisung suffocating in yet another guilt-filled haze. Just as you click away from the contact, a notification catches your eye, craving for any sort of distraction from your anger. 

Sungchanniee :) [6:37pm]: hey :)

Sungchanniee :) [6:37pm]: you wanna call?

...

"I’m not so sure about this, Sungchan.” You fumbled with your fingers in the passenger's seat of Sungchan's car.

“C’mon! It's a party! It’ll be fun! Think of it as like a way to pay you back, for making you worry so much before.” You think back to your phone call, where you mostly vented about Park Jisung, while all he said was ‘calm down’ like ten times. Maybe he was right. You glanced out the car window, the greyish skyline growing darker and darker with each hour. God, your parents are going to kill you for staying out so late. 

“Who is this YangYang guy, anyways?” 

“Oh YangYang? That dude’s the best at parties, you’re gonna love him!” Sungchan beamed. You huffed. Anything to get your mind away from your childhood neighbor.

The bass-boosted, trap noise someone had the audacity to call music shook you to your core the moment you entered the party house. You met familiar faces, sure, but none you wanted to talk to. How did anyone have fun like this? Heck, where did Sungchan go? Your now curious eyes glance back to the bar, shiny bronze liquids all dazzled up in their own glass bottles. Nothing like your neighbourhood child self had ever seen. You found yourself drifting closer. What kind of house party was this?

The liquor slid down your throat with an extra sting. Too many flavours, all clashing with each other in the wrong ways. And yet, you found yourself coming for more. You’re already halfway done your first cup of the night when a figure comes up from behind you. 

“Hey! I’m YangYang! Sungchan brought you, right?” He extended a hand out to you as you exchanged greetings. He carried your attention to the top of the stairs as you desperately tried to hear him over the music. “Uh-yeah, I’m y/n.”

“Just to let you know, we have a chill out room if you ever need a quiet place to stay.” YangYang informed, his smile radiating welcoming energy. “It’s up on the third floor, just to your left. Have fun!” 

You bid him farewell before you resumed staring intently at your drink, hoping no one else would spare you a glance. 

45 minutes and probably 2 drinks (though it really felt like 6) later, Your head starts banging with a sharp pain you never felt before, clenching at your brain. You hiss in pain, the bass pounding music only making you feel sick. You wobbly retreat up to that chill room YangYang mentioned. That would calm you down, right?

“Hey” The sudden yet comforting voice of Sungchan alarmed you as you creaked the door open. He was perched onto the bed, the light of the lamp setting his skin on fire. Your eyes couldn’t look at him for long, though, not with your heavy eyelids drooping. Sungchan scoots aside, patting a now vacant space on the guest bedroom, just for you. “You should rest, you look exhausted.” 

...

Chenle slammed the car door shut, shoving his car keys in his pocket as Shotaro followed swiftly. The evening breeze swayed the flaps of Chenle’ jacket as he shivered. “We’re at the party now, Sung.” He muttered to his phone.

“Alright.” Jisung could barely breathe as he perched his head on his damp pillow, not with the guilt still rushing through his body. His eyes, still red and swollen, watched the bright stars contrast from the midnight sky. It was the first time he's stayed in at night. Yet he was in no condition to go out. Sure, the stars shined bright tonight, but his star was forever gone. He’d lost you. 

“You just want us to check on her, right?” Chenle implored as Shotaro greeted the party, putting up his best ‘I actually want to be here!’ face. Jisung huffed softly through the other end. “Yeah.”

“Take care of y/n for me.”

...

Like a magnet, you flew onto the bed, positioning yourself for a good night’s rest. Sungchan swiftly laid beside you, a groan escaping his lips as he positioned himself too. You inhale, the air around you smelling faintly of…cigarettes? You brush it aside, this is a highschool house party, afterall.

Sungchan watched as your eyes struggled to stay open, his face merely inches away from your peaceful one. His heartbeat grew faster and faster, his heart racing as he pushed your hair behind your ear. A sly smirk lined his lips. 

He started off slow, peppering kisses all over your sleeping figure as he made sure you weren't fully awake. Softly, he pinned you down, the blades of your shoulders digging into the mattress as he got on top of you, fully encasing your frame in his. YangYang's a genius, letting him use the guest bedroom like this. Sungchan felt you tremble under him, wriggling around as you send whimper-like sounds in his direction. He grew hot, practically salivating. Park Jisung can finally piss off. 

"mmph, Jisung stop it" you uttered unconsciously, throwing Sungchan off his course. Anger ruling through him as he gripped the bedsheets, trying his best not to lash out on your peaceful figure. After all this time? You still thought about him? That asshole? His hand grabs a hold of the bare of your thigh. He was glad you only wore a skirt today. 

The touch of a cold palm shook you away from your drunken slumber, only to find Sungchan, pinned on top of you with rosy, flustered cheeks. He stared you down with the hunger of a lion, moments before devouring its next meal. Your eyes widen, the sudden realization of Sungchan's current doings striking you like a flash of lightning. 

Jisung was right, he was dangerous.

You pushed Sungchan's chest off of yours as you shot up from the bed, terror dripping from your eyes. His eyes still contained that hunger. A hunger that you were never going to solve. "Get off of me!" 

You raced through the door, not sparing him a chance to answer. While sliding down the stairs and slithering through the crowds of drunken teenagers, you barely noticed the tears welling up in your eyes. All of your trust, all of your faith, brutally destroyed right before your eyes. Who could you turn to now?? 

"Y/n? Where are you going?" Chenle, who arrived late to this horrid party, tugged on your sweater lightly to get your attention. You, however, only responded with a stronger pull away. 

"I'm going home, Chenle. I need to get out of here." You huffed breathlessly before escaping, not sparing him or Shotaro a glance. Chenle gave Shotaro a concerned stare before following your footsteps. 

Sure, you had the willpower to get as far away from that monster as possible, but your legs didn't. They were weak, wobbly, and the mercy of gravity's pull. Your running form grew sloppy as your arms dragged themselves through the air. You were so beat, that it didn't come to your surprise when your sight switched to black and a thump of hard pavement striking your head before you laid limp underneath the streetlight. 

“Y/N!” 

...

You convinced yourself you were peacefully floating away on a cloud, so imagine your disappointment when your eye’s flutter open to see your bedroom curtains, followed by your comforter which you drowned in. The sunshine shot your weak eyes as you shifted around, wondering how you ended up back home in the first place. What happened?

Jeno sat right beside your sleeping figure, lazily perched on your desk chair as his eyes abruptly ripped away from his phone screen and onto you. He sent you a heartwarming smile, his once tense expression relaxed at the sight of you, alive and well. You never seen Jeno smile like that before. It was nice

“How are you feeling?” He soothed, patting the back of your hair softly after scooting closer to you. You murmured a half-assed response, the shockwaves of a major headache starting. God, you were never going to drink again. “I’m alright, I think.”

Jeno huffed out a relieved chuckle, pulling the blanket over so it would cover more of your cold looking frame. He gave you another bonk to the head with his knuckles, something that helped your headache. Helped it hurt, at least. 

“That’s good. Well, you passed out last night, Chenle had to take you home. And don’t worry, I didn’t tell Mom and Dad about the party. You should watch out for Hyuck, though.” Your eyes widen at Jeno’s words, ‘party’ specifically shaking you to your core. The deafening music, the soul-irking booze, the unknown faces. You hated it. Jung Sungchan pinning you down on the guest bed, closing the distance between you without your approval. You hated it. Utterly disgusted by it. All your trust, your respect for him, thrown out the window. Your mind trails back to a certain phone call, your heart now drenched in guilt. 

“That Sungchan guy is a complete asshole!”

“He’s got bad motives, y/n.”

“You don’t wanna hang out with someone like him!”

Park Jisung. Your childhood neighbor. The one who was right all along, and the one you foolishly disregarded. You clenched the fabric of your shirt, your heart pulling on your weakened frame. How could you be so blind, and still have the heart to blame him? Park Jisung. Your protector, your knight. The one who truly held your heart. That last thought sent butterflies straight to your stomach. Of course, He always had that effect on you. You’ve just never believed yourself. Always brushed it aside. If Jisung could tell you the truth, so could you. You love him. You’re in love with Park Jisung. 

You scrambled out of your bed, your speedy figure scaring the living shit out of Jeno. “Woah, slow down! Where are you going?”

Your eyebrows wrinkle, etched in determination. “I need to find Jisung.”

“Can’t that wait? You need to rest!”

“I need to tell him the truth.” you murmured. “My heart can’t take it anymore, Jeno.” he sent you a knowing nod, stepping aside as you rushed out the door. 

Your brother did have a point, though. You shouldn’t be scrambling away like this, not with your knees about to buckle up from exhaustion. Your eyes, however, shot straight ahead, your pulse going through the roof. No more lying to yourself anymore. You race through the kitchen, not paying notice to a distraught looking Donghyuck, protecting his full cereal bowl from a fatal accident. 

The grass still felt damp from the week-old rainfall as it hugged your bare feet. You raced through the sidewalk, your chest heaving as the wind pushed against you. Where was he?

The creeks of the ancient swingset didn’t fail to irk the ears of Jisung and Chenle as they sat in a comfortable silence, with a few (but very opinionated) comments thrown in by Chenle to help lighten the mood. It was the only thing Chenle could think to do, with a guilt-ridden, messed up Park Jisung at his side. 

“I couldn’t protect her, Chenle.” He barely whispered, breath shaking. “I was too late.”

“You did everything you could, man. You can’t protect her all the time.” 

“I wasn’t even there when she needed me most!” Jisung shouted, his voice booming as he shot up from his swing. “If I can’t do something like that, how am I gonna…” He trailed off, his figure slumping back to his swing.  

“How are you gonna...what?” Chenle’s curious eyes scanned the brooding figure. His hands, fully enveloping his head, ruffling his hair in the process. If Chenle hadn’t leaned in right beside Jisung, he would’ve never caught his little一yet electrifying一confession. “...How am I gonna be her boyfriend?” 

“JISUNG!” The two teenagers jolted back into reality, the sounds shallow, exhausted breaths hurling their direction as their whip in unison. Your disheveled figure一complete in its oversized t-shirt, tousled hair, and lack of proper footwear一bolts towards them. Despite the energy surging away from you, you wouldn’t rest until you reached them. As you got closer, your eyes finally locked with Jisung’s, mirroring your guilt ridden expression as he towered over you.

“Jisung, I-” You began, not sure if your shaky breath was caused by the immense amount of cardio you just did, or your rapidly thumping heart about to explode in your chest. “I’m sorry for blaming everything on you, not listening to you about Sungchan, everything. I was being stupid and selfish and一” You cut yourself off, not daring to look up at the dumbfounded Park Jisung, ear’s more red than the red scrunchie on your wrist. 

“I-I need you in my life. You’re the one that keeps my life together, the one who kept me safe, ever since we were kids.”

Your eyes finally had the courage to look at him, your fingers wrinkling the hem of your shirt as you bite your lip in pure anxiety. Your heart was racing, was this what a heart attack felt like? 

“I’m in love with you, Jisung.” 

Jisung froze, his lips parted in utter shock. It all hit him too fast. His brain lagged behind as his hands, etched with a sense of impatience, roughly cups your cheeks, bringing them inches before his face. Eyelids fluttering shut, he molds his lips onto yours, his arms clasping around your waist in an effort to hold you close, so you never leave his life again. You reciprocate, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying your best to hide the butterflies stuck in your stomach. A sensation only Park Jisung could achieve. 

The two of you finally part lips from your breath-stealing kiss, your eyes never letting each other go as vermillion stains your cheeks. Jisung quietly stuttered out his reply. Don’t get Jisung wrong, he wasn’t hesitant to answer at all. In fact, you were pretty sure you already knew his. Jisung shined a heartwarming smile. 

“I love you too, y/n.” 

...

“Did you really need to punch that guy that hard? I think his nose started bleeding!” Shotaro yelped, still slightly out of breath the four of you running away from the shop security. 

“That asshole deserved it! He shouldn’t be flirting with my girlfriend in FRONT of me!” Jisung laid back on the playground bench, an arm hugging your waist from behind as you lazily perched next to him. 

“That asshole was the cashier, and your girlfriend was paying for our drinks, dumbass.” Chenle uttered with a deadpan look. He tossed another ice cold, convenience store drink. “Tell him, y/n!”

“Chenle’s right.” You responded automatically, softly smiling to the feeling of Jisung’s arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace, his head hiding in the crook of your neck. This boy really softened you like putty. You glance back at him, your eyes holding the stars above. 

“Besides, I already have you, I don’t need anyone else.”

As you and Jisung both blissfully ignored the fake retching sounds emitting from a sarcastic Chenle, and the contrasting, supportive cheers coming from Shotaro, you sent Jisung a swift, sweet peck on the cheek. Turns out you could melt him like putty, too, judging by his embarrassed reaction. You didn’t need the questionable comments. You only needed him. Park Jisung. Your (scrawny) knight and shining armour. 

[sunnysidekit]

Summary: All is fair in love and war. And boxing, too, apparently.

Pairing: Ben ‘Benny’ Miller x F!Reader (no y/n, reader’s boxing nickname is ‘Nyx’)

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence.

Word count: 2.2k

My masterlist

Everyone likes a good mystery. Don’t even try to deny it; whether you like Sherlock Holmes or if you’re more of an Agatha Christie fan, none of us can really escape the allure of a good conundrum every now and again. Some people can stare in the face of their mystery and not recognize it for quite some time, while others can practically smell them from a mile away. Ben Miller is part of, well, both groups.

Personally, he likes mysteries and surprises and such, but his army days have taught him all of those are a bad thing. A mission can collapse after the smallest detail changes, after all. Sometimes those missions are called off; other than the fact that he can’t do his job when that happens, he’s not really bothered by it. But when something catches him and his team by surprise during a mission and they have to get on with it anyway, things tend to… let’s say, not end well for everyone. And that’s gently put, of course.

Which is why when he’s at home between deployments, he likes his simple habits. They provide joy and adrenaline, and boy does he need both to function well. One of those habits is boxing. He likes it because of its simplicity; you punch your opponent, they punch you back, and so on and so forth until one of you stops. He’s good at it, too. Will always says that’s because he practiced a lot on him when they were younger. Ben says he’s the one with the good genes. Their mother was a fighter, too, after all.

The other reason he likes boxing is because your opponents always try to surprise you with a little mystery move. It’s fun for him to figure out how to respond in a split second, and the rush he gets when he does so successfully is almost unparalleled. Today, though, the only real surprise is the sudden appearance of his very own mystery. And, hey, you might know where this one’s going: it appears in the shape of a woman…

Benny whoops when he kicks open the door to his old high school gym’s changing room, but it sounds a bit less enthusiastic than it did after his last match. He knew he should have listened to Will and gone somewhere, anywhere else than back to Red Feather Lakes, but he’s not about to mention it when he can already imagine the smug grin spreading across his brother’s face.

He won, that’s what counts. And it’s not that bad to have done so after what is sure to be America’s easiest boxing match. That just means he’s good at it. The crowd went just as wild as it usually does, even though there were significantly less attendants than two weeks ago. Somehow, none of the arguments he tells himself really convinces him.

“All right!” Catfish says triumphantly from behind him. “Looks like all that training paid off, didn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Benny trails off as his slightly blurry vision comes back into focus. There’s someone sitting on one of the benches, someone he doesn’t know. It’s a woman; her aura tells him she’s all business, but her clothes tell him she also definitely plays. “Who’re you?”

The woman doesn’t respond immediately; only after half a minute of casually typing away on her phone does she look up and meet his eye. “Name’s Val,” she says, her facial expression one he can’t quite place. “And I’m about to ask you something you won’t be able to ignore.”

It’s important to notice that Benny isn’t particularly patient in his post-fight high, something Frankie knows very well. He becomes a bomb of electric energy that, once set off, won’t stop until every single muscle in his body gives out. And he’s about to be set off.

“Val, is it?” Frankie smiles at the woman, swiftly moving his friend to the showers. “Why don’t we talk while he cools down, hm?”

“You’re not the one I want to ask a question,” she says calmly, not taking her eyes off Benny. “You’re a Delta boy, aren’t you? I can see it in the way you fight. It takes regular boxers years to develop such a sensitive, quick response capability.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And that makes me think that oaf out there’s a long way from even thinking of acquiring your skillset. It’s impressive how easily you had him on the mat.”

“Ma’am, if you want an autograph-” Frankie tries, sensing the ticking time-bomb next to him is about to blow, but Val immediately interjects.

“Which is precisely what caught my eye. These men are no challenge for you anymore, but I think I know someone who could be. Should you accept their invitation, that is.”

“Do I know him?” Benny narrows his eyes at her, trying by god to figure out her angle in all of this. She smirks and closes her eyes a few seconds longer than a normal blink would take; touchy subject, maybe? Or perhaps he’s right and he has seen the guy before.

“You might have seen them around, sure. But I doubt you’d remember them.”

“So, what? I say yes and I’ll fight your friend here next week or something?” Benny snatches his towel from his bag and snaps it against the wall in annoyance.

“I’m afraid my friend’s a little more… complex than that, Mr. Miller.”

“Hey, uh, no thanks,” Frankie cuts in, waving his hands as if to dissipate the words in the air. “He doesn’t do illegal fights.”

“He’d have plausible deniability,” Val says with a slight tilt of her head, then turns back to face Benny and hands him a business card. "Anyway, the choice is yours, Mr. Miller, not your friend’s. I don’t need an answer right now. Do take your time to think it over, sleep on it a bit. Once you’re a little more comfortable with the idea, give this number a call. I’ve got a feeling they’d very much like to bruise that pretty face of yours until it looks like a Monet.”

She gets up from the bench and walks out of the changing room without looking back. Benny slips the business card into his jacket pocket, something that catches Frankie’s attention.

“Don’t do it, Ben,” he sighs. “I’m serious. You could get arrested, get your ass thrown in jail. You’ll get kicked out of the army.”

“Stop whining, Fish. I’m not gonna do it anyway.”

Despite explicitly telling Frankie he wouldn’t do it, here he is, standing outside his local gym with his phone in one hand and the curious looking business card in the other. There’s not a lot of info on it, but, hey, what did he expect? That an illegal streetfighter would publish their own name, address and contact info on a bunch of business cards?

There are only two things printed on the grey little card: Nyx, which must be the fighter’s nickname or something, and a phone number. It’s been in his jacket pocket ever since he left his old high school, but it felt like it’s been burning a hole in it the entire time. It’s exactly as Val said it would be. He can’t get her proposition out of his mind, no matter how hard he tries.

She’s right about the competition. They’re no match for him, not the ones here in Red Feather Lakes. And, sure, he could always just sign up for something three towns over, but it wouldn’t matter much. How she found out he’s in the Delta Force is beyond him, though. It’s policy not to broadcast such a position if you want to stay in it. Maybe she has connections in the army…

That’s another thing; his place in the army. It would be gone as soon as he gets caught, and it’s not like he’s got great job prospects waiting for him back home when all he’s done for the past ten years is train to get where he is now. No college degree, no other jobs to list on his resume, no wealthy parents to fall back on… His whole life would go up in smoke.

But it does entice him. He technically does illegal things for his job all the time, and the matches he engages in when he has some down time aren’t really scratching that one particular itch anymore. Let’s face it: one phone call can’t hurt, right? He can still refuse, say no, put his foot down. Maybe even convince this guy to go legit.

He pushes the little green receiver on the screen, then puts his phone to his ear. The dial tone beeps three times before someone picks up. He opens his mouth to say something, but the person on the other side is quicker.

“Ben Miller, I presume?” It’s… a woman. But not Val. “Val told me you’d be giving me a call.”

“And you’re…” he quickly flips over the card just to be sure, “…Nyx, then?”

“Got it in one. I do so hate it when Val forgets to mention my name in the initial interview.”

Benny huffs out a confused laugh. “Interview?”

“You aced it, by the way. Not saying too much is best when talking with my… let’s call her my associate,” the woman says. Her voice is softer than Val’s, and a lot smoother. It sounds like what taking a sip of hot chocolate feels like. “Shall we get on with it and discuss the rules of this little arrangement?”

“I don’t-- rules? I haven’t even given you an answer.”

“Oh, don’t fool yourself into thinking you’ve got any restraint left,” she chuckles. “You want to tell me you called just to say hello to a total stranger?”

“No, but-” Benny splutters, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“Then your answer, even if you haven’t given it to me yet, is as clear as the Pope’s Holy Water. Now then, the rules. In order to keep you in the warm, sunny, light side of the law, I’ll arrange a time and place. All you have to do is show up.”

He can’t help but grin. She’s clearly on top of this whole cloak and dagger operation, that much he can tell. Who she is, though, he can’t say. Not yet. Maybe he’ll recognize her when he sees her. “What about my gear?”

“Do take it with you, please. I’m not a charity, giving away free gear to any John, Charles or Mary.”

“All right,” he says, clicking his tongue. “Anything else?”

“Val will pick you up and get you back home safely, so don’t worry about the whole transport situation.”

“This doesn’t sound very... safe. I mean, you do realize this sounds a lot like kidnapping, right? Or murder, or something like that?”

The woman laughs. It sounds like the melody to a song he knows but has never heard at the same time. It’s the kind of laugh that makes everyone around laugh as well. “Why would I tell you all this and then still proceed with it if my intent was malicious? You can easily call the cops and have my dear Val arrested for whatever crime you think me capable of, and that wouldn’t be very good for my business.”

“Fair enough.”

“Speaking of Val, she’ll pick you up next Wednesday at nine.”

Benny kicks a piece of gravel onto the street next to him and swallows away the last of his pride and dignity. “All right, I guess I’ll see you then.”

“Good lord, I can’t believe Val forgot to tell you that, too,” she laughs again, then clears her throat and continues a lot more seriously. “I only dance in the dark. Have a good night, Mr. Miller.”

Usually, waiting takes ages, but not this time. For Benny the rest of the week practically flew by him and before he knows it, it’s already Wednesday. He went training with Frankie just like any other week, only this time he accidentally forgot to mention his fight with Nyx. He told himself that the less people know about his, uh, date, the better, but he also knows Frankie would have immediately pulled the plug.

Val arrives at nine o’clock sharp in the front seat of a cab, which is no surprise. The drive that follows doesn’t take very long; he also isn’t blindfolded or anything like they do in the movies. The car stops in front of an old warehouse in the east side of town, and that’s when Val turns around in her seat and very concisely tells him to get his ass out of her cab himself, since she’s not going to hold open the door for him.

Instead of driving off, Val simply pulls the keys from the ignition and tosses them to him, calling it his ‘insurance policy’. Then she waves her hand as if to tell him to hurry up and get inside, which he promptly does.

Well, that whole dancing in the dark reference seems to have been meant literally; as soon as the warehouse door closes behind him, an inky, suffocating darkness envelopes Benny and makes a shiver run up and down his spine. He takes a few tentative steps, holding out his arms and moving them around to make sure he doesn’t hit anything while he walks.

Suddenly, a voice calls out to him from a bit further into the sole, big room this warehouse seems to consist of.

“Good evening, Mr. Miller. Let’s get swinging, shall we?”

A/N: Hey there, you made it to the end! Thanks for reading through the whole thing, I hope you liked it. If you’ve got any suggestions or spotted a mistake or two, don’t hesitate to tell me so that I might fix it. I hope you’ll stick around for round two!