#Because they said it might take 3-4 weeks to feel fine again

[keepingthepeaceinouterspace]

my permanent retainer is broken in the same spot again and my root canal tooth is still bugging me 🫠

[hollyhomburg]

Before I leave you (Pt.67)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 12.5k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.

Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.

The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-

Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.

There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-

You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.

Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.

He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.

Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.

Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.

But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).

There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.

But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.

No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).

It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.

It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.

"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."

They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.

“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.

Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”

A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.

He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.

Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."

Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.

“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches hyung.”

Numb fingers meet numb faces.

He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.

That’s my girl.

He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.

Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.

"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"

Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.

“Kookie-”

Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.

Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?

The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.

Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.

Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.

Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.

Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.

And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.

There isn’t much to say.

Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?

The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.

That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.

There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.

“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”

Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“

Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”

“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.

“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.

“Do you think we can wait that long?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.

You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.

Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”

Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”

But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.

Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.

Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.

“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”

Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.

“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”

They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.

But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?

(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)

It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.

Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.

Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.

"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."

The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.

Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.

(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.

Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)

Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.

When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.

"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"

Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.

Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."

He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.

Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”

Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.

Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.

The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.

If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?

Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.

He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.

Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.

He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.

“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”

Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?

He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.

But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?

Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.

The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.

Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.

The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.

Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.

Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?

Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.

Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.

Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.

With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.

In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.

Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.

In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.

~-~

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.

So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.

Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.

You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.

The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.

Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-

You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.

Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.

You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.

Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.

Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.

You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.

Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.

Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.

You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.

You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.

Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.

Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.

Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.

Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.

He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.

Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.

Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.

Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.

"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."

Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.

“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.

Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.

You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.

"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.

"No, I've got them.”

“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”

"Guys"

They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.

The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.

It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.

You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.

For a second, no one says anything, but then-

“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.

"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.

"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.

Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.

You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.

Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.

Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.

He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.

"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”

With you, it's going to take a little longer.

Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.

“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?

The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”

You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.

You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.

Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.

Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-

“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.

“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."

You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.

"Don't scruff me."

"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.

“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-

Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."

You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.

“Yoongi.”

“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.

Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”

He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.

Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.

He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”

Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.

If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.

(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).

Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.

You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.

A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.

It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-

Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.

Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.

~-~

Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.

Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.

Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.

Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.

You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.

Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.

You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.

The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.

There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.

One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.

“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“

"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"

"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"

“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”

Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.

The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.

You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.

It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.

You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.

The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.

The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.

You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.

You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.

Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.

“Did you like your courting present pup?”

Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.

In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.

Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.

You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.

She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”

“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”

You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.

You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.

“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”

"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.

“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"

Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.

"Even if I’m not here.”

For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.

But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.

“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."

You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.

I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.

“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”

Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.

Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.

It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.

You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.

“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."

"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”

The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.

~-~

(Hoseok, a few years prior)

The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;

A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.

A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.

Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.

Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.

Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.

Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?

Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).

It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).

(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)

Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."

He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.

“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.

It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.

Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.

Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.

Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.

Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"

Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.

His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."

But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.

That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.

It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.

At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.

Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.

Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.

“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.

Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.

It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.

Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.

(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)

“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”

“How much did he steal?”

“300k”

Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.

“A finger for every 100 then.”

The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.

“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”

“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”

“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”

Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.

“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”

"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.

"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.

Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."

Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.

Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?

They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.

Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.

“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.

They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.

Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.

“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.

Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”

“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)

“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."

"Is he underaged?"

"No, he's just got health issues."

"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.

He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.

Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."

And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.

(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.

Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.

Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.

All packmates of a Don get put on the list;

no matter if they're active or past.)

Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.

If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).

It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.

By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).

He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.

And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.

As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.

Pack Omega 🌙 calling.

Pick up? Decline?

Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.

Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.

“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”

Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.

Even when you know it could hurt you.

Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”

Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Moonbyul please-”

“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.

It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.

It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."

Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.

His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.

“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."

Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”

~-~

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~-~

Notes:

in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.

every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.

(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.

i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.

are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈

….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3

also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.

what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard

[tan1shere]

Hi I was wondering if you could please write a billie fic where she comforts the reader? it could literally be anything at all i just like the hurt/comfort or angsty that ends off fluffy kinda stuff if that makes sense!! 💙

You're My Comfort

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: coming rightttt up !! Enjoy, babe <3 (this is a lil short I'm sawry ☹) -alsooo dunno If you just put that heart or want to be on my emoji anons, just lmk if so !

Summary: you had been struggling lately, and like always you bottled it up, til you were at your breaking point. But rest assured billie was there to pick you back up again.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, anxiety attack and slight depression, bit sad but fluffynezzz near da end 😇

Masterlist

You loved weather like this, it made you feel comfortable and secure in your own weird little way. You've always loved the rain. The foggy atmosphere. As crazy as it sounds it brought you joy. So when Billie found you out, laying in your guys backyard. Letting the rain drench your body. She knew you were at your happiest. Or were you?

No. The answer was no. You had been a tad more distant with her recently and it did worry her, you were always so bubbly but she was very aware of the depressive states you'd occasionally get into. It worried her more so, the fact she never knew when. You'd keep it to yourself because you never wanted to feel like a nuisance. Like you were troubling her. But little did you know she'd help massively. She came out, seeing your body laying down, back against the grass. It was pouring down, you were truly soaked and maybe even a little cold. You felt cold regardless. Icy.

She got on the ground with you. "Talk to me." She said calmly. Looking to her side at your face. You had silent tears which she thankfully couldn't see. You didn't respond at first. "Please." She pleaded, grabbing your hand and placing it in hers. You could be in mud and she'd still join you. You didn't know why you weren't worth the trouble. Your head turns to face her, blank. No emotion. "Isnt the rain pretty." You averted your attention back on the dull sky. Making her sigh. "Baby, Somethings really bothering you. Are you getting into a depressive state again?" Again, no answer. But if she kept going you might just break.

"Are you feeling gross-?" - "Yes billie. I'm feeling disgusting. I feel stupid and i don't even know why, maybe it was that dumb interaction I had with that lady the other day. Maybe I'm freaking out like crazy because I can't seem to get this little tiny demon. Out. Of. My. Head."

She stared at you in shock as you were shaking, you hadn't even noticed. But now tears were streaming out. Billie immediately wraps you in her embrace, saying nothing. Letting you cry in the safety net of her arms. Your eyes soon shut letting out all that pent up emotion, that you tried so desperately to get rid of. Turns out you needed what Bill was doing. You needed that kind of warmth. Being in your true happy place. Her hand strokes your hair sweetly, her chin resting atop your head. Wishing she could take all your pain away.

You sob into her chest, shaking uncontrollably. But not because you were cold. Your heart rate picked up, feeling every little thing come crashing down. She rocks you in her arms, giving quiet shh's repeating "You're ok. Its fine." Until your breathing eventually calms down, getting over that pesky anxiety attack. "There you go." She speaks, moving your wet hair out of your face.

"I'm worthless Bil." Her brows furrow. "Where on earth is that coming from love?" You shrug. "My brain, it keeps repeating it. Over and over." She looks in your eyes. "Well say that it's not true and tell it to go find some other mind to bug. You're not worthless baby, you're amazing. And strong might I add. Dealing with this almost every day. I'm proud of you." Your eyes gleam as she says those 4 words, having a small smile on your face after what felt like weeks. It warms her heart tremendously. Missing that smile heaps. Her arms wrap you in such a warm hug briefly.

"I get you angel girl. Always have, yeah?" She explains, pulling back to cup your face. "But you need to let me in. Please." You want to now. Even if you and billie haven't been dating for long, you knew you were in love with her. And that kept growing and growing each day. "Let me help you I'm here, and I always will be." You nod at her, a thumb swiping under your eye shortly after. The rain continues to cascade over you both. "Billie?" She hums in response. Admiring your features. "I think i love you."

A long pause emerges making you panic. "Well I mean- not think that sounds a bit mean and i-" Her lips meet yours in a soft kiss. Shutting up that silly rambling. "You're adorable." She laughs a little. "I love you." Your eyes light up as she says that. "You're truly my comfort Billie, thank you for that." She smiles big time, bringing you back into her arms. "Head up baby girl, I ain't leaving."

"Promise?"

Her smile grows.

"Going to put a ring on that finger. I promise."

:,)

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 4, Unwelcome - Pt. 3*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. Explicit Sexual Content (oral (m receiving)), kinda some sexual manipulation, mentions of past trauma, CSA, self esteem issues.

Word Count: 808

Previously On...: Nick Fury is insisting the Avengers take on a new member. It should be fine, right? Then why does the candidate Bucky seems so entranced by make you nervous?

A/N: We've reached the end of Chapter 4! Thank you so much to everyone that's been reblogging- I can't believe we've made it to 250 reblogs already, and I've only been doing this for a little over a week! Ya'll sure know how to make a girl feel the love! Chapter 11 is coming along, and huge portion of Chapter 12 is already written, so expect an update for Chapter 5 in the near future! Things are about to get angsty (also a little fluffy, because I can't help myself)!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife

That night, you felt distracted. Though you couldn't help it, you found you kept comparing yourself to Jade Carthage, not able to get over the way Bucky had so intensely examined her photo and bio. You refused to examine why the thoughts bothered you so much; this wasn't a relationship, and he was free to find other women attractive, and though you tried to ignore the slick, slippery feeling they elicited in your gut, you knew you were wallowing.

But you couldn't help but think he was comparing you to her, too, and also finding you lacking.

For as practically as long as you could remember, your self esteem had been entwined with how sexually appealing men had found you. It was never a relationship you nurtured for yourself, but your mother's boyfriend had instilled in you that the happier you made his clients, the better he would treat you, and it fucked up your sense of self-worth. Under ideal conditions, you were able to put all your years of therapy to work and look past the trauma of your youth, but at times like this, when you were feeling less than, you sought out the approval that your sexuality brought you.

And right now, you were desperate for that approval from Bucky.

After you came out of the bathroom in your pajamas, you were disheartened to see him sitting on the edge of his bed, going over Jade's paperwork yet again. You sighed, but he didn't look up at you. Fine, if he was going to be like that, you'd just have to take matters into your own hands, literally, and make him remember who he shared a bed with at night.

Coming to stand before him, you reached down and took the paper from his hands, tossing it behind you.

"Hey," said Bucky, mild annoyance in his voice, "I was reading that."

Before he could even think about going after the discarded paper, though, you got down on your knees before him.

Tracing your fingers along his thighs, you eagerly reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your haste. The zipper of his pants gave way easily as you pulled it down, revealing his cock beneath his boxer briefs. You wasted no time and hungrily grasped him in your hand, stroking him firmly and teasingly until he was throbbing and fully aroused.

"Pocket," he said, his protest laced with desire as he looked down at you with hooded eyes, "what are you--"

With a wicked smirk, you silenced him with a fierce look. Your tongue darted out to swirl around the tip of his throbbing cock, making him groan as he grabbed onto your hair. You took him into your mouth eagerly, savoring the taste and feel of him against your tongue. With each movement, you swallowed him deeper and deeper until your nose brushed against his lower stomach, sending shivers down his spine. Your hands worked his base expertly, teasing and toying with him as he begged for more.

"Fucking hell, Pocket," Bucky moaned as he thrust his hips towards you, "what's gotten into you tonight?"

You hummed against him, adding in subtle twists and sucks that made him tremble. He pulled at your hair harder, urging you to take him fully once again. With practiced ease, you hollowed out your cheeks and bobbed faster and harder against him, taking him all the way in until you could feel his twitching release just moments away. Both of you knew it wouldn't be long now before he exploded in ecstasy.

"I'm gonna come, Pocket," he moaned, trying to back himself out of your mouth, but you refused to let go, renewing your grip on his thighs, becoming almost aggressive. Your eyes locked onto his, silently begging for him to give in and let go. With one final grunt, Bucky exploded, spurting hot streams of his essence into your mouth. You eagerly gulped it all down, determined to take everything he had to give you. And when you finally released him from your mouth, the sound of a satisfying 'pop' echoed through the room.

"I just want you to remember that," you purred, slowly standing up and sauntering back to your side of the bed. You could feel the intense desire radiating from his gaze as you wiped the remnants of his spend from your lips and licked your fingers clean, and he had a look in his eyes that promised this moment would be seared into his memory forever.

You nestled into the warmth of the sheets, your head resting on his chest. His arms enveloped you, and in a hushed voice he expressed his gratitude. In that moment, you were grateful to have him by your side, knowing that for tonight, at least, he was yours and not consumed by thoughts of another.

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

[stargazing-imagines]

Sick — Jeremiah Fisher x Fem!Reader

Description — you are staying with the fishers and the conklins for the summer, and you get a job as a daycare worker at the country club, but what happens when you catch the germs of the little ones?

Warnings — mentions of sickness, cuddling with a sick person *social distance ya’ll* that’s it

Fandom — the summer I turned pretty

Requested — no

A/n: hope you enjoy this one, and remember! Wash your hands!!

“Thomas, Savannah you get back here!” You shouted as you were chasing a bunch of 3-4 year olds down the hallways

“Try to catch me miss Y/n.” Said one little girl as she giggled

You shook your head, as you noticed the kids distracted you picked up Savannah, while grabbing Thomas’s hand, dragging them back to the day care room

“What did I tell you about leaving this classroom?” You asked

“We’re sorry miss y/n.” Said Savannah as she looked up at you with sad eyes, you sighed

“It’s fine just don’t do it again, now go eat your lunch.” You said, after you said that, a voice disrupted your thoughts

“Miss Y/n.” Said one little girl “your boyfriend is here!” She said as she nibbled on her cheese cracker giggling

The rest of the kids giggled as one little boy made kissy faces, Miss Amy walked up to you

“I’ll settle these kids down, why don’t you talk your hour lunch break?”

“Sounds perfect, thank you.”

Miss Amy smiles at you as she looked back at the kids

“Miles you put that down!” Said Miss Amy “your bento box is not a toy!”

“I don’t know how you do it.” Said Jeremiah as he walked side by side with you down the hallway towards the dining hall

“It’s nothing.” You said “but I do hope I don’t get sick, apparently there is something going around, they called that three teachers are out sick with the flu.”

“Well let’s hope you don’t.”

Well… let’s just say that you jinked it, the next day you found yourself with a fever of 102.3

“Those kids.” You said as you sat the thermometer down, you were in your thoughts until belly came in

“Woah y/n… you look beat, are you ok?” Asked belly as she walked close to you, but you stopped her with your hand

“Don’t. Come. Close.” You said with a raspy voice

Belly walked close to you anyway, when she did she placed the back of her hand on your forehead, but taking it off within seconds

“Oh my gosh…” said belly “your burning.”

“Yeah.” You said as you past by belly back to the door of your room “now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.”

“I’m staying home today.” Said belly “I’ll take care of you.”

“Thanks belly but I rather you not get what I got.” You said as you smiled at her, shutting the door

“Knock knock.” Said a voice, it was Susannah who had something in her hands “belly told me, how are you feeling?”

“Well… my nose is stuffy, my throat hurts, oh and I’m achy.” You said as you sat up

“Well I made some chicken soup and I thought you might want some.”

“Thanks.” You said as you sat up from your bed.

“I’ll leave you alone.” Said Susannah as she gave you a small smile before walking out

It has been a few hours, more say 2 hours has passed. You were reading a book before you heard another knock, this time it was Jeremiah at the door.

“I hate that your sick, because your going to miss the awesomest party ever!” Said Jeremiah as he stood at the doorway, you chuckled.

“Awesomest isn’t even a word, but yeah.” You said as you looked at Jeremiah “you guys have fun.”

“Call me if you need anything.” Said Jeremiah as he bends down to kiss your forehead, but you jerk away

“Sorry but, im kinda contagious here.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Said Jeremiah as he gave you a kiss on the forehead anyway

“Alright, but don’t come to me when you get what I have.” You said “it’s not fun.”

“Whatever!” Shouted Jeremiah from the hallways, you chuckled before getting back to your book.

A week later

“So… how does it feel to be in my shoes.” You said as you were standing at the doorway of Jeremiah’s room. Turns out, he got what you had. Yours was still lingering but you were feeling better.

“This is torture.” Said Jeremiah, he sneezed again before looking at you “but it was worth it.”

You rolled your eyes before walking out of the room

“Love you!” Shouted Jeremiah

“Whatever!” You shouted back

—

The summer I turned pretty masterlist

[milaisreading]

Ahhh~ Thank you so much! I'm glad you like and enjoy writing and that requests don't bother you! 

I've read the part too and I like it very much! Thank you for making my day better again and again! ^*^

Can I ask you please for part 3 (maybe 4 too?) for any U-20 and Neo egoists league characters like Oliver, Sae, Kaiser, Ness etc and coaches like Ego (I really want to read about his relationships with manager-chan. I feel that he warms up for her too x)), Chris, Snuffy, Noa etc. 

Thank you for your answer, I was happy to get it!~ Have a great day and I wish you a lot of inspiration!~

With love, 

Garden

Author:Thank u for the request! Oohhh I have so many ideas when it comes to the coaches! So I will be doing them individually! For the other players I have smth in mind and will be doing it later on! For now I wrote abt Ego, so I hope u like it🩷 also if u are looking for some cute platonic HC with the coaches @/maochira has great ones! They always leave me so happy ^^

Warnings ⚠️: none in particular. Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Interview day...

"This place is really huge... they didn't lie when they wrote it's a huge, nationwide project." (Y/n) thought as she stood in front of the Blue Lock headquarters. A week ago she received an invitation for an internship at Blue Lock, and as she was excited joining it, she was terrified. Will she be good enough for it? Will the players like her as their manager? Will the people interviewing see her as fit for the position?

Taking a deep breath, (Y/n) walked inside already seeing a woman with reddish-brown hair waving at her.

"You must be (L/n) (Y/n). I am Teieri Anri, I will be interviewing you along with the head of this project." The woman smile as she approached (Y/n) and the girl bowed.

"Thank you for inviting me, it's an honor." The girl said with a red face.

'Teieri-san is so beautiful! I saw her on TV a few times, having her as a possible mentor would be so cool!' (Y/n) thought as the woman lead her down the hallway, explaining that it's just some formalities they will go over.

"By the way, don't let yourself get scared off by Ego-san... he seems scary at first glance, but he means well." Anri warned the girl, who simply nodded her head.

Black eyes bore into (Y/n) as the girl kept fidgeting in her spot. Ego Jinpachi, as she came to know him, was scarier than (Y/n) had expected, but she shouldn't be surprised.

'You would expect him to be like that if he has to deal with a bunch of high schoolers.' The girl thought as Ego sighed, finally speaking up again.

"Alright, this one might do. Cancel the other interviews we had planned." Ego told Anri.

'Did... did I get the spot?!' (Y/n) thought alarmed as Anri nodded her head.

"And you think you will be able to stand the pressure?"

"I... well I have some experience from working with my school's football team, as I stated in the beginning. I also have some basic knowledge in the sport."

"Alright, Anri-chan will give you a little tour. You are expected to move here in 2 days. Now go."

'Harsh and straight to the point.' (Y/n) thought as she followed the woman out of the room.

"It went better than I expected! Some of the candidates folded 10 minutes after speaking to him, I think you will fit in here just right."

"R-really?! He was worse than this?!" (Y/n) asked, shivering at the idea.

"Not really, he is the same to everyone. You just argued with him on some points and maybe you didn't notice."

"I-I did... Sorry, I get lost when u talk sometimes." (Y/n) said, ashamed a little, but Anri kept reassuring her that it was fine.

"Don't you think this is brutal? To eliminate them just because they lost a tag game? And Kira is one of the best high school players too." Anri argued after the entrance exam was finished and both her and (Y/n) witnessed Ego argue with the white haired boy.

"It's final, if he can't think fast, he is not made for a striker." Ego said simply as he ate his yakisoba.

"Well, I am trusting you with them." Anri gave up.

"What is the next step? Will you start the matches soon?" (Y/n) questioned as the man shook his head.

"First we have a stamina training, then the real challenges will start. This is a game of elimination and survival of the fittest. Only the strongest egoist will survive this." (Y/n) nodded her head, looking at the monitors that showed the various teams.

'Ego-san sure is brutal, but in order to build up football from nothing we need the strongest... and so far it's these guys.' (Y/n) thought as she wrote down the names of all the players who are going further.

'Hmmm.' Ego raised an eyebrow, deciding to say nothing for now.

"Did you-"

"The goal was put just in the height you requested and every training area is equipped with water."

"And the-"

"The alarms are set just as you requested with that blaring sound."

"Also-"

"Ordered the Yakisoba."

Anri held back a giggled as Ego kept on being interrupted by the girl as she answered everything. It had been 2 weeks by then and (Y/n) finally got into a routine. It was funny for Anri to watch Ego pout in defeat as he told her to go assist Team V.

"I see you found someone who can't be easily intimated or angered." The woman teased as Ego shrugged his shoulders.

"Or you are growing soft."

"Shut up. You talk too much."

The next few days went somewhat peaceful and it was the night before the final match. Ego decided to do some more research on the players and prepare for the next step, when he heard noises from his office.

"I didn't leave anything on..." He muttered and opened the door, only to find (Y/n) inside, looking intensely at the game Team Z and Team Y had.

"What are you doing up so late? Watching a game at that?"

"Ego-san? I am taking notes of some of the players, you said you wanted to do some analysis but didn't have time."

The man was surprised as her words, but didn't show it as he took the notebook from her. He read it through, surprised how well detailed she was on the players.

"Why are you doing this? And how are you sure this is right?"

"I just like analyzing, I did the same in school too. And I am not a 100% sure, but 9 times out of 10 I was right, so I am pretty confident in this." (Y/n) answered calmly as Ego handed her the notebook and sat down next to her.

"Continue, u want to read these later."

Nodding, (Y/n) did as she was told while Ego just kept watching the screen.

"What did I say about feeding her garbage?!" Anri yelled as she saw (Y/n) and Ego eat the Yakisoba from the fridge.

"It's good food. In order to be a good at analyzing, she needs to eat." Ego argued as Anri handed (Y/n) some vegetables and fish.

"Here, eat this instead. We don't want you to get sick." Anri said, sending a side glare at Ego.

"What arebyou two even doing now?" The woman asked, looking down at the papers on Ego's table.

"I am teaching (Y/n) the essentials of reading the enemy. Now, as I said..."

Anri sighed as she watched Ego talking and (Y/n) nodding her head from time to time, with questions coming from her.

'This looks oddly cute... to see Ego-san have a soft spot for anyone is a once in a lifetime thing.'

Anri smiled softly and went on with the paperwork she had left for the day.

"Code red." Anri whispered to Ego who turned to look in the direction (Y/n) was.

"Not him now..." Ego sighed as he got up to pull the girl away from Oliver and Sae, but Bachira and Rin beat him to it. The boys pulled the girl away, saying some nonsense.

"Or maybe not." Anri laughed.

"Now I know for sure you have a soft spot."

"I don't. I just don't want more issues than I already have." Ego protested, keeping an eye on the U-20 team.

"Sure, sure~" Anri mucked.

[melanieph321]

Gabriel Medina x Reader - Untamable Part 4/8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Reader spends the summer with her first love, Gabriel Medina, for him to get a chance to know their three year old son. However, both Reader and Gabriel struggle to keep their feelings at bay.

Enjoy!

"He's calling....again."

"Let it ring." You groand.

Vavó entered her living room with the homeline in her hand. "I think he's just making sure that you haven't left São Sebastião yet."

"I told you Vavó, we're not leaving you. I want to stay here and help you with the house."

"If you say so, querida. But right now you seem to need more help than my house."

She was right. You were a mess and embarrassingly so. Gabriel had gotten under your skin without even trying.

"Fine, give me the phone." You held out your hand, asking for it. Vavó handed it to you and stuck around for the drama that might unfold.

"Yes?"

"Y/N?."

"This is her."

"It's me, Gabriel."

"Yes, I know the sound of your voice, Gabriel. What do you want?"

The weight of his sigh blew in your ear. "I've been calling you for a week now. Why haven't you picked up?"

"I've been busy...helping Vavó with her house."

Vavó chuckled from where she stood. You were a terrible liar.

"So you're still in São Sebastião then?"

"Yes, Gabriel. We're still here." It broke your heart a bit, hearing the angst in his voice. Little did he know that the last thing you wanted was to take Nemo away from him. The whole point of this summer was for Nemo to finally know his dad. To know him for all he was and all he could be.

"I was thinking...." Gabriel said.

"About what?"

"About this whole co-parenting thing."

"Oh."

"Yes, it has to work. For Nemo, I mean."

"For Nemo?"

"Yes, we have to get along for him."

"I....agree." You sighed.

"Good. Because I understand that you hate me. I mean, you have every right to after all I've put you through."

"Gabriel, I don't—"

"But we shouldn't let our feelings for each other affect what is best for our son, meaning what happened last week can't happen again. Ever."

There was a loud thud in your ear. It was either the beating of your heart or the beating of Gabriel's. Nevertheless, you were left speechless.

"If we ever disagree on something, anything, we have to work it out right away. With words." He emphasized, acknowledging without scrutiny, that your actions last week had indeed been childish. This level of accountability and maturity humbled you.

"Hello, Y/N. You still there?"

"I'm here." You pressed the phone to your ear.

"Good." He chuckled. A soft chuckle. "That's good."

"Why is that good?"

"I dunno." You imagined him on the other end of the line, running a hand through his wavy hair. "I guess I was a little afraid that you packed your bags and went back to São Paulo."

"Gabriel." You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling guilty as ever. "I would never leave without telling you. Nemo would be so upset."

"How is the little guy? I hope he's not up to no good."

"No, he's alright." You chuckled. It was a nice feeling, laughing with Gabriel. "He's actually out playing in the backyard. Some of the neighborhood kids are teaching him how to fly a kite."

"Hey, I wanted to do that."

You bit your lip, everything inside you screaming. Don't say it, don't say it. "You should come over. Nemo will be happy to see you." You immediately looked to Vavó, who stood with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

"Shit, I can't today."

"Oh." His words hurt more than you expected. Followed by a prickly sensation beneath your eyelids.

"Yeah, it's my friend's wedding. He's getting married tomorrow, but Rico and I are leaving for the venue tonight."

"I see."

"But hey!" Gabriel's voice sparked through the phone. "You should come with us?"

"I...I should?"

"Yes, you and Nemo. Please, you have to come, my friends would love to meet him."

"Right...meet Nemo."

"Yes. It'll be perfect. I can pick the two of you up tonight, and we can all go together like a—"

"....Family." You nodded.

"Yeah, a real family."

It's all you ever wanted and now he wants it too. How could you say no?

"Yes. Okay. We'll come with you to the wedding."

"You will?" Gabriel sounded like he had shot up into the air. Or at least that he was bouncing up and down. "That's great Y/N. Rico and I'll will pick you up around eight. And anything you need, like money for a dress, just let me know and I'll send it to you."

The phone call pretty much ended there, with Gabriel offering to pay for your dress. But only when Vavó asked, "What did he say?" Did it all hit you.

"Erm...Vavó. I think we need to go shopping."

"What?"

You nodded. "Like, right now."

********************************************

Not only were you in need of a new dress, you also needed new shoes, a haircut, a manicure, and a tuxedo to fit a three year old boy. To think that you got all of that done by the time Gabriel came to pick you up was a miracle.

"Papa!"

His car pulled up to the house, with Nemo running down Vavó's driveway, dragging his little suitcase behind him.

"How is my little fish?" Nemo tripped on his feet. Fortunately, Gabriel caught him just before he fell.

"Good, papa." Nemo giggled.

"Yeah? Are you ready to go to a wedding with Papa and Uncle Rico?"

Nemo nodded his head, then pointed back towards the house. "Look at Mamãe."

You came down the driveway, dragging your own suitcase alongside you. On your feet were a new pair of heels you wished you had broken into earlier. The walk from Vavó's house to Gabriel's car might have been the most painful walk you had ever experienced.

"Y/N?"

Looking up from your feet, you saw Nemo in Gabriel's arms. Gabriel, who looked a bit lost as he stood, gaping at you, his mouth left wide open.

"A little help, please?" You groand.

"Erm...of course. Sure." He came to your rescue, helping you with the suitcase, while Rico put Nemo into his baby seat.

"Thank you." You said, flickering a strand of hair that irritated your eye.

"You look good." Gabriel tilted his head, watching you curiously.

"I do?" It was probably the haircut. Other than that, you looked pretty normal, you thought. Except for the high heels, of course.

"Yes." He muttered. "Did you do something to your hair?"

"I actually got it blown out this morning. But I might have over done it."

"No, no." He assured. "It looks good. You look good."

"Thank you, Gabriel. " You felt the need to complement him too. He was dressed so casually, though, a t-shirt and the usual baord shorts. But he smelled like a dream. You were drawn to it, his scent.

"Do you wanna ride shot gun?"

"Huh?" You batted out of your trans.

"Shot gun?" He smiled. "Or do you prefer sitting next to Nemo in the backseat?"

"Erm...no. I can ride shot gun."

"Great, I'll tell Rico to move over."

It was a nice little road trip. You were headed just up the coast where Gabriel's friend had booked out a resort by the beach to host the resption of the newly wedded couple.

It was no surprise that a lot of people at the resort knew Gabriel. People, guests of the resort who didn't even know Gabriel personally, came up to him and patted him on the shoulder, congratulating him on his recent successes as a surfer. Adults became children, begging Gabriel to pose for pictures or a quick video to someone's beloved back home, all while holding up the line in the hotel lobby.

For a moment, you got a glimpse of what it felt like to be Gabriel Medina, where even at someone elses wedding venue, he was the spectical.

"We should get the bags to the room. Maybe unpack." Gabriel said, who was a handed a keycard from the reception. Both he and Rico had previous reservations. You, on the other hand.....

"I'll share with Rico." Gabriel said, handing you his key in the elevator.

"Where will you sleep?" You asked.

"With Rico, of course. Right Ricci?"

"Right." The buff man muttered. Rico had given up his seat for you in the car and now he was giving up his hotel room. You felt so sorry for him.

"It's okay." You said, handing Gabriel back his key, to which his eyebrows furrowed. "It's okay." You nodded. "Nemo and I will stay with you."

"With me?"

"With him?" Even Rico was flabbergasted. Although, he seemed more worried than surprised.

You shrugged, Nemo bouncing in your arms. "We're a family, aren't we?"

Gabriel looked to you, a sly smile on his lips. "We are."

"It's settled then."

The doors to the elevators opened, and you went ahead, leading the way to your room. You waited for Gabriel to catch up with the keycard while Rico slipped into the room next door, but not before whsipering the words "Good luck." to Gabriel, who dismissed his laughing friend.

You had no idea why Rico found this predicament so funny. However, you did see the irony in the whole situation as a queen-sized bed stared back at you upon your entry into the hotel room.

"Shit."

"What?"

"There's only one bed." The rest of the room was lovely, with glass widows for walls giving you the perfect view of the sun setting over beach.

"Had you expected there to be two. I only booked the room for myself." Gabriel said.

"No, but at least for the bed to be king-sized. The three of us won't fit on the queen sized one."

"Oh." He scratched the back of his head, appearing rightfully confused. At least he wasn't freaking out like you were. "Do you want me to go down to the reception, see if they have another room available?"

"No it's okay." You waved. "We'll only cause them trouble."

"Are you sure? I'm certain that they'll arrange it for us." Gabriel said, with a sense of security that only a person with his level of fame could have.

It never occurred until later in your relationship that Gabriel was of importance. That a lot of people would go great lengths to keep him happy. To you, he had just been Gabriel Medina, your first love.

"It's okay Gaby. We'll figure something out." You said.

He perked up, eyes widening.

"What?"

"You called me Gaby." He said, not even attempting to hide the boyish grin on his lips.

"Yeah, and? I've always called you Gaby."

"Yes before, but then you stopped."

"I did? When?"

You didn't have to ask him when, you already new the answer and so did Gabriel. Perhaps that's why he chose silence as his answer. A good choice, since it allowed the smile on his face to linger.

"I think Nemo needs to stretch his legs from the car ride." You muttered. "Will you take him for a walk before he goes to bed?"

"Sure." Gabriel picked him up from the floor where he was playing with your rooms. Do not disturb sign.

"Hey buddy. How about a walk with Papa before bed?" Nemo yawned in his arms but still brought himself to nod his head. "Alright then, let's go." Gabriel looked to you, a wink of his eye. "Well, be right back."

The two of them left you to unpack your suitcase, and only then, while folding clothes, did you acknowledge how fast your heart was beating. Beating for Gabriel.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[pendarling]

Power Imbalance 3

<< Start < Part 2 • Part 4 > End >>

Villain's eyes squinted at the small letters. They had only finished a quarter of what they expected Henchman to do. The stacks of paper only seemed to remain stagnant despite doing as much as possible. How Henchman managed it all was a mystery. They really did take too much credit for their work, after all.

Villain sat back in their chair; the conversation from yesterday with Sharp-Shooter did nothing to help the situation. Maybe they needed to do something drastic about the problem. Villain stood up from their chair and grabbed the coffee machine that sat idly on the side. They refilled the cup and heard a knock on their door.

It was Henchman.

"Good morning." Villain set down the machine and walked back to their chair. "If you're here for those papers, unfortunately, they aren't done."

"That's fine." Henchman sat down in the plush chair across from them and allowed silence to overtake the room.

Villain stared back at their blank eyes and fiddled with the wooden armchair. They asked them to get some rest yesterday, but it looked like none of that happened. "So, how was it?" They casually asked.

"How was what?"

"Your break."

Henchman's legs instinctively crossed along with their arms. "It was fine. Nothing happened."

Something told them it wasn't as okay as it seemed, and evident by the fact that other members had attacked Henchman and brought them to bring Henchman into their office. They weren't one for confrontations, but while the cleaners had fit to work on removing the spray paint from Henchman's door, they might as well keep them at arm's length. "Listen, I was thinking of making some changes around here." Henchman sat up, though clearly looking uncomfortable at having the entire facility's rules overturned because of them. "You know I wanted to see what I could do to help you get to know the others better. Maybe you just started on the wrong foot."

"I know, but…" their gaze set itself on the floor. "I don't want to trouble you or anyone else."

"It's not a problem, and I'll make sure it isn't a problem for everyone else either."

"I really appreciate it, but when I said I was fine on my own, I meant it." Henchman stood up and gathered the papers from their desk and into their arms.

Villain let them take their time and watched them leave feeling a little disheartened at the situation.

Before they could get up, the door opened again, "Oh, Henchman—"their words stopped. It wasn't Henchman; Villain knew this criminal. Their eyes were hidden behind a pair of blue goggles and familiar jet-black boots. They had to stop themselves from blowing up on the unwanted guest. Saber was the worst employee in the entire organization. They never seemed to get anything done. If anyone should be attacked, it should've been Saber.

"Uh boss."

"Save it for later. I already know you brought nothing."

"No!" They raised their arms and quickly walked in front of Villain, "I have something of value this time." They pulled out a small chip from their coat and slid it over. Villain curiously pulled it up into view.

"I swear if this is worthless, I'm putting you into hard labour for the next week." They rolled their chair toward their computer and inserted the drive. The screen waited for permission to grant access to the software, and Saber held their breath.

"I'm sure you'd be pleased."

The screen loaded and in walked Shooter. "You again?" They chuckled and placed a large black box on the couch. "Aren't you supposed to be ruining another mission for us?"

"I am not!"

Villain tuned out the noise as their eyes scanned the screen. A file with a list of different links appeared; Villain clicked on the first one with a picture of a man in a suit surrounded by a group of bodyguards. "Well, isn't this interesting?" They mumbled. The photograph was of the elusive Head of The General Elections Committee. According to their last analysis, they were last seen in the provincial North after a protest broke out outside their home South of their work facility, something about fraudulent votes and unfair treatment of the staff who formerly worked for him. The Hero's Agency hadn't said anything for or against their target yet, which meant he was all game. Supervillain released a bounty on his head last year, almost executing another villain with a name they couldn't remember. It was an entire ordeal, and they hadn't expected a high-class target would be found by none other than... Saber.

"Saber." They called and turned the screen toward them; Saber looked at them, waiting for this moment their entire life, "Did you take these pictures?"

"Yes I did."

"Isn't that the guy who almost got Supervillain's wife killed?" Shooter stepped forward.

"He killed Supervillain's wife?"

"No..." Villain intervened, "He almost got another villain executed for something they didn't do."

Shooter pointed at them, "That was Supervillain's wife. She works as a villain too."

"Really?" Saber and Villain said.

"What's her name?" Villain flipped the screen back at them and opened a search engine.

"Like Silver... something something I forgot."

Villain typed the name into the search box and wrote a string of other related words to the case. The screen opened up a picture of their target along with pages of news addressing the controversy from about a year ago. "Found it..."

"Saber, I thought you were over-stealing other people's work." Shooter set a hand on their shoulder, and Saber slapped it off.

"I am! And I didn't steal any of this, I took it myself!"

Shooter scoffed, "Okay," They sarcastically raised their hands, "I've just never seen you with a camera before."

"You know you're a real asshole, Shooter. Fuck you."

Villain sighed deeply, "Can you two take your conversation outside, I'm trying to do something here."

"But boss," Shooter gestured at the box they brought in earlier, still sitting on the couch. However, Villain had already done enough and needed to finish researching the sudden appearance of the longtime threat to the underworld.

With a flick of their wrist, the two of them walked out the door.

<< Start

< Part 2

•

Part 4 >

End >>

~~~

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[captain-mj]

Vampire Part 4

The plot thickens and Ghost takes off his mask

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Soap had a hard time sleeping after getting all of his housework done. All he could think about was Alejandro’s offer and the way the two men looked intertwined. He thought of what it might be like to be between them. Threesomes had never been high on his fantasy list, usually it was bumped down by the numerous fantasies about vampires. Being bitten, biting, being picked up, being fucked in front of a mirror. Blasphemy and heresy in equal measures. 

But a threesome just climbed higher on his list. His little crush on Ghost also just got a lot worse. He had never seen Ghost’s mouth not soaked in blood before. His lips were so red. His fangs poked into his bottom lip and he was so pale. More than that though, his throat had recent bite marks. Meaning Alejandro or someone else bit him often. 

Soap’s heart fluttered in his chest and he ended up sitting up, needing to do something with his hands. He grabbed one of his sketchbooks and started to draw Ghost again. This time, he managed to get more of his face. Connecting it with the eyes he knew so well, he tried to piece him together. 

He put music in and made sure his alarm was set. He tried his best to sleep most days but sometimes his circadian rhythm just wouldn’t let him. Between that and the adrenaline from earlier, he knew it was likely a losing battle. 

Soap drew those fangs dripping in blood, his to be specific but you couldn’t tell from the sketch, and then tried to figure out what Ghost’s nose looked like. 

Turns out even adrenaline wears off because he woke up to his alarm while drooling all over the sketch. He sat up slowly and his neck cracked. 

“Fucking hell.” Soap stretched and wandered up around the house. He checked that there was a party nearby that the vampires could snatch people from before going up to his Ghost. In the morning, he’d go to the pack house to meet up with Farah, but for now, he’d hang out with Ghost. Like every night. 

Soap smiled. When he became a familiar, he didn’t realize he would be a paid friend. 

The door was locked. 

The door was never locked. 

“Ghost?”

“Go away.” Ghost sounded strained, like he was in pain. 

Soap panicked. “Sir, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Ghost didn’t respond.

“Sir, please.”

“Johnny.” Ghost said coldly and sternly. “I am fine. Just… come back later, please.” 

Soap sighed. “Okay…” This was the second night this week that Ghost didn’t spend with him. It was selfish of him. But Soap was getting worried that Ghost had gotten… bored with him. He was immortal but he had long learned that didn’t mean much. They grew tired and bored of things quickly if they weren’t just right to catch their fancy. 

In the room, Ghost felt like he was dying. His body ached all over. His ears kept ringing. His mouth had been stuffed full of cotton. Ghost hadn’t needed to breath in so long but he needed to right now. 

The ski mask Soap had given him was ripped to shreds on the floor as Ghost gulped for air, but it just… wouldn’t go into his lungs. Nothing he did gave him relief from the suffocating feeling. 

Something seared in his chest and there was a sharp pain growing. 

Bloody tears ran down his face until his vision was red. 

It didn’t stop until midnight and Ghost reluctantly knew when it was. His birthday. Technically, the day he turned but he didn’t know what his actual birthday was anymore. These days were always awful but never this bad. Usually there was just an uncomfortable feeling so he had no clue why his body decided to remind him what pain was. 

He slowly ran his hands through his hair, feeling… something. 

No. 

No. 

NO. 

His denial could only do so much though. His ears were pointed. And from the way it felt, rather long. Even if his mask wasn’t destroyed, there was no way it would cover them. Ghost looked at his nails, noticing they were longer and sharper, as well as a nice obsidian color. He’d be glad he no longer had to paint his nails if not for the growing hate in his soul. 

Sometimes, when he was selfish or lonely or sad, he’d pretend he was human. Just… for a bit. It was easy if he didn’t look in mirrors or run his tongue over his teeth.

But the hands in front of him were not human. The way the hair tickled the tips of his ears was not human. Even his fangs fit differently in his mouth. 

Ghost scratched at the flesh on his wrists, watching the darkened blood cover his nails. He felt sick. He’d need to eat soon. Soap had gotten him used to nightly feedings but… he couldn’t stomach going outside. 

Rudy, the fucking psychic Ghost swore, knocked. “Simon, are you pouting about your lover again?”

Ghost tensed. “Don’t come in.” Mist was already pouring through the door as Rudy appeared in front of him. His face fell. 

“Simon. It’s nice to see you again.”

Ghost looked away. “I can’t let Soap see me like this. Please don’t let him see me like this.”

Rudy sighed and knelt in front of him. “He’s into vampires you know. I don’t think he’d care if you look a little less human.”

“I don’t want to be less human. I feel like I’m pretty inhuman as it is.” Ghost let Rudy take his wrists. “New nails.”

Rudy hissed and shook his head. “You’re not healing thanks to the little transformation you decided to have. Used everything you got.”

Ghost didn’t like the implication that it was on purpose but he let it slide. “I’m not going out there. I don’t have my mask. And Soa-”

Rudy covered Ghost’s mouth to quiet him. “I know. I get it. Look, I just came back okay? You can have a nibble off me and then we’ll figure it out.”

Ghost relaxed and mumbled. 

“What was that?” He mumbled again.

“Simon.”

“I said thank you… Also stop calling you that.”

“Would you prefer batling?”

“Nevermind.” Ghost pulled Rudy in his lap easily and nosed at his throat. He took a deep breath. All vampires smelled a little too sweet and Rudy was no exception, but he could also smell fresh running blood under his skin. He sank his teeth into Rudy, feeling him tangle his fingers in his hair. His eyes closed as he drank, holding his body even closer. 

A simple tap on his shoulder and he pulled away, swallowing. Rudy leaned in and kissed him before licking the blood off his lips. “Not as good the second time around.” 

Ghost nodded and kissed him back, feeling slightly less terrible. “How can I hide this?”

“You could just… not hide it? There’s no reason too.”

Ghost didn’t understand what Rudy meant. He was covered in scarring. He looked like the dead. 

“You’re handsome.” Rudy smiled. “Even if you look a little older now.”

Ghost cupped Rudy’s face, examining him. He was perfect. Everything a vampire should be. A perfect predator. 

Ghost was that when his mask was on. When no one could see. 

Rudy pulled away and lightly kissed his cheek. “Do you need anything, handsome?” 

Ghost laughed softly and smiled, his new fangs biting into his lip a little. “I’m fine.”

Rudy paused and softened a little. “You have a nice smile. You really should let people see it more. I know Soap would love it.” He teased but it was good natured. Gentle. Like he knew just how fragile Ghost was in this moment. His hand ran through Ghost’s hair. It was long and went to his shoulders, a nice soft ginger. 

“Thinking of bleaching it.”

“Why?”

“It’s going to have to be seen more. I don’t know. Just think it might be smart.”

Rudy patted his head. “I’m liking the implications. Think you’d make a cute blond.”

Ghost was glad he was not well fed enough to blush. Rudy would tease him “Just… give me a little time.”

“Not too much though, you understand?” Rudy glared. “I don’t want you to get lost in your own head again. Does no good for anyone.” He did leave him alone though. 

Interviewer: So why did you come back?

Price: Well, I know Simon’s birthday of course! This is the year when he goes through some changes. You’d think this stuff is gradual since we live forever but our bodies change fast, just spread out.

Interviewer: Interesting. Like phases?

Price: Precisely. First year, a vampire is a fledgling. They require a lot of care in those states. Especially if they were like him and unhappy about the change. You have to keep them fed, keep them from going into the sun, teach them what they need to survive. Then, when you reach a century, some vampires get gifts. Turn into a cat, turn invisible, stuff like that. Extra things that don’t always come with the package. And today. His 800th birthday. When your ears come in. He’ll finally be a grown up.

Interviewer: Did you warn him?

Price: I was going to but it seems I was a tad late. Didn’t want to interrupt him. 

Interviewer: Right… Well, what was Ghost like as a fledgeling?

Price: This interview is over.

Soap was on the other side of the house, stressing about this decision. He finally decided yes, he did want to take Alejandro’s deal. So he found him. 

Alejandro was lounging on the couch, clearly waiting for something. Soap was pretty sure it was Rudy. 

“Alejandro, sir.” 

“Yes?” He sounded mildly irritated to be interrupted in his lounging but he sat up anyway. 

Soap sat next to him. “I… Your deal.” 

Alejandro looked intrigued. “Yeah. The deal. You keep quiet and if you want, I show you what Ghost kisses like.” 

“I want to know.” Soap said softly. Despite everything else he had done, sleep with Rudy, get felt up by Alejandro, watch Alejandro and Ghost do… things, for some reason, this made him nervous. It was just kissing. 

Alejandro touched his face carefully and had him face him. He held him so tight Soap could barely move. Soap parted his lips to speak and Alejandro leaned in, kissing him softly. His eyes stayed open and so did Soap’s. It felt too intimate. Too much. Soap quickly closed his eyes. The kiss was… gentle. Not really what Soap had been expecting. He couldn’t lean into it thanks to the hands stopping him. 

Alejandro pulled away too soon. “I’m rooting for you, little buddy. I think you two could be good for each other.” He smiled. 

Soap was out of breath and flustered. “Thank you…”

Alejandro shook his head. “You’re cute. It’s endearing.” He stood up. “Rudy and Ghost seem to be busy. I’m bored.”

Soap hummed. “I had a party invite? It was so you guys could grab something but you could go there?” 

Alejandro nodded. “Thanks Soap. Bat.” He turned into a bat and flitted off before Soap could respond. 

Soap checked the time and since it was only a little bit after midnight but no one needed him, he caught up on the sleep he missed. It felt weird, but he decided that was better than trying to find out what Ghost and Rudy were doing together. 

Gaz woke him up at 5:30 sharp. “You still going to the pack house?”

“Your boyfriend tell you?”

“Yes. I’m going to tell them I had you run errands for me so they don’t want to know where you’ve gone.”

Soap stretched and caught Gaz up on what little he knew about Ghost refusing to let him in or leave his room. Gaz looked a bit concerned. “I’ll talk to him. He has a soft spot for me.”

Soap knew that to be true. He had seen Ghost pick Gaz’s sides in house arguments he wasn’t even involved in and terrorize half of Gaz’s boyfriends. They acted more like siblings than roommates half the time. Made sense Gaz had Price as his adopted Dad. “Thanks, Gaz. I just… worry, ya know?”

Gaz was clearly trying not to make a face. “Sorry, your worry is just really sour and bitter. Trying not to breath too much.”

Soap laughed and got up. “Let me figure out what these werewolves want, yeah?” He fist bumped him and followed the directions to their house. 

It was nice. A little smaller but with an actual car and a giant backyard. Three dogs were running about in it. 

Soap knocked and all three dogs stood up. 

Oh. Not dogs. Definitely not dogs. 

They walked on their hindlegs over to him and he tried to not let the intense feeling of uncanny valley and nausea distract him. 

Now that they were closer he could see their size and could pick out Alex. Alex waited until his front paws were on the fence to shift back. It meant Soap wouldn’t see him naked. Well… His lower half at least. 

“Hey there!” Alex smiled. “Glad you could come.” 

The other two werewolves grabbed blankets to wrap around themselves before joining. One was an older lady with blond hair and the other was Farah. 

Farah rushed forward, careful to keep the blanket around here. “You’re early!” She smiled. “So here’s the deal. I need your help rescuing someone from a vampire. Once it’s sunrise, we’re going to sneak in and steal her.”

“And you need me why?”

“In case the vampire shows up of course! You’re The Ghost’s familiar. None of them are going to touch you.” 

Soap hummed. He supposed there was a sliver of truth to that. But anyone who knew Ghost well enough, knew that Soap was not something he’d kill for. He liked the vote of confidence though. “Alright. I’ll come with you.” 

Farah smiled. “Thank you so much. This really means a lot to me.” She went inside, presumably to get dressed. The other lady had switched to a robe while he was distracted. 

“My name is Kate, but most people call me Laswell. It’s nice to meet you.” She shook his hand and smiled. “Farah has been really worried about her girlfriend.”

Alex leaned in. “Just friend. Hasn’t asked her out yet.”

Laswell frowned. “Seriously?? Still? Jesus.”

Soap blinked at the word, pavloved into expecting a hiss or sizzling sound from one of his companions. There was nothing. 

He missed his vampires all of sudden. 

God, maybe he did need to get out more. 

Farah came out and started to lead the way, ironically towards his house meaning they could’ve met up at his house and saved Soap walking at 6 in the morning but whatever. The other werewolves didn’t come with. 

“So. This friend.”

“Her name is Malika. She’s been being controlled for who knows how long!” 

Soap noticed she wore a choker around her neck. It looked odd with the rest of her outfit. It was plain, not made to draw attention but then she had black… lace? Satin? He didn’t know fabric. But it covered most of her skin. 

“I have scarring.” 

Soap quickly looked forward. “Oh. Sorry, didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s cool. Better than when a vampire asked if I liked being collared. Or you just asking. But yeah, I have scarring.”

“What from?”

“I just said I didn’t like being asked.” Farah huffed, but there was a lot more bark than bite to the words. “I didn’t always have a pack and people are cruel.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You got anything like that?” 

Soap sighed. “Growing up Scottish in Britain was certainly not ideal. Neither was being gay. Can’t say I have any scars from it. Least not physically.” He grinned at her. 

“Must have a ton of mental ones if you want to be a bat.”

“Hey, they’re cool. Live forever. Turn into a bat and fly.”

“Watch everyone you love die. Kill people nightly.”

Soap hummed. “Only bad people.” 

“You think every vampire follows that?”

“Mine do.” When Soap was the one in control, but he didn’t let that slip. That night at the bar was different. 

Farah didn’t seem to buy it. “Right. Well, we’re here.” 

The house was disheveled and held together by tape. The windows were boarded up and Soap didn’t see how anyone, let alone a vampire lived there. They tended to be high maintenance with high standards.

“You sure?”

“Yep! Malika is in there and I have to save her and you’re going to help me.” 

Soap sighed. “Yeah, alright.” He grabbed one of the wooden stakes that marked the fence and handed it to Farah before grabbing his own. He checked the sun to see it was well over the horizon. “Alright, they should be sleeping. If Malika is injured or anything, do you have medical supplies at your house?”

“Basic stuff for when we shift.”

“Okay, good. My house is closer but we’ll only go there if there’s an emergency okay? My vampires may also be asleep but its better if we can just bring her straight to your house.”

Farah nodded. “Agreed.”

They both snuck into the home through the front door. It was weird, not needing an invitation. Or having to invite them in behind him. 

All these years had started to fuck with his brain and Soap was just now putting together how much it was. When he got irritated, his first instinct was to hiss. When he smiled, he rarely showed off all of his teeth anymore, as if he himself had a pair of fangs to hide. 

It was occurring to him now that if for any reason Ghost changed his mind and refused to turn him, Soap would still be very different. Not only because a good chunk of his life would have been waisted on a pipe dream, but such deeply ingrained habits would haunt him. 

How could he live as a human when open windows give him anxiety because what if sunlight comes in? When he knew what the wind through his hair from over a 100 feet in the air felt like? 

Soap wandered further into the house. It was incredibly dark which not a good sign. The vampire may be a light sleeper. 

Farah sniffed the air and started to lead again. She stayed quiet and moved slowly so Soap could keep up even in the pitch black areas. Soap felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he started to reach for Farah. But Farah gasped and rushed forward just as his hand touched her shirt. 

“Malika.”

The lady was pretty, but that wasn’t the focus. The focus was the wound on her throat. Several bite marks, none of which were healed. Barely any blood dribbled out and she was so pale. 

Farah scooped her up gently. 

“My place.” Soap whispered. “Trust me, i-” 

Something grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and yanked him off the ground. He felt weightless right before he smashed into the floor. The wooden stake slid towards Farah but she had her hands full with Malika. 

“Just go.” Soap yelled before managing to get up and start running in the opposite direction. He made it down the hall before he felt it grab his feet and start to drag him further down. 

It was big and clearly old. Very, very old. Soap wondered how many children it had. How many of those children had children. Poor thing, living like this. A vampire this old should have help. 

Soap kicked it in its nose though because his survival comes first. He scrambled further away and it gave chase.

“Ghost! I’m Ghost’s familiar!” 

It didn’t even understand him. It just kept coming. 

Soap couldn’t find the exit. Every room looked the same. Luckily there was nothing else there. 

He saw a loose board covering a window and yanked. The sunlight would keep it at bay long enough for him to get it open and get out. 

“Ha. Bitch.” Soap grinned right before it lunged straight at him. 

Straight into the light. 

He watched it set alight. Watched it burn alive. 

He didn’t want it to die. 

Soap quickly tried to push it out of the light but it was too late. It hit the floor and shattered like porcelain. He stood there, frozen for a while. 

“Oh no. Oh no no no.” 

Soap reached into the dust, hoping to find something. Anything. A way to know its name. 

He’d have to ask Malika. Hopefully the poor thing had enough intellect to tell her. 

Soap wanted to cry. It had been an accident. He swore it was just an accident. 

He started to head home quickly, wanting to leave what he had done behind. Maybe Ghost would be up. Maybe he could just ask him to sit with him while he buried his head in the blankets and pretended this never ever happened. 

Soap closed the door behind him.

“Will you just shut up and let me help?” Alejandro hissed behind him. 

Farah growled. “I’m not letting you feed off her.”

Rodolfo sighed and it was clear this was an ongoing argument. Soap wondered once again how long he had been out there. “Our saliva has healing abilities. She’ll bleed out at this rate.”

“It’s true.” Soap backed them up. 

“Oh. Thought you were dead.” Alejandro said it so flippantly. Like it really didn’t matter. 

Soap wanted to cry again and he blamed it on the already emotional day he was having. 

“Glad you’re not?” Alejandro added awkwardly. “But anyway, let me help the little familiar. Don’t want her dying on my watch. Her master can be mad at you, not me.” 

Farah snarled but Malika was getting paler and still was dead asleep, so she relented. She gently let Alejandro take here, stepping back just a tiny bit so she could still watch. Alejandro’s tongue flicked out, licking the wound just once. The skin started to stitch back together, but Alejandro didn’t give her back. 

Instead, he turned to Soap. Both he and Rodolfo did. Price was on the couch, casually sharpening a blade. 

“What happened?”

Farah hit his shoulder. “I told you what happened.”

Rodolfo sighed. “And we believe you, but we mean after you left him alone. You’re clearly fine. Any vampire worth their fangs would’ve ripped you to shreds for theft.” 

“Told them I was Ghost’s.” Soap lied, hiding his ash covered hands behind his back. 

“Ah. Makes sense. We can’t just… Soap, you can’t just do that!”

Soap winced. “Look, I’m sorry. I just wanted to help. Look at the condition she’s in.”

“It’s horrible but you can’t…” 

Footsteps. Unsteady footsteps. 

Soap heard Ghost’s voice as he stood on the steps. 

Unmasked. 

Ghost was unmasked. 

He was blond. 

He had bleached blond hair from the looks of it. 

And freckles. 

And pointed ears with little piercings. 

And the soft ruby lips Soap thought about all the time. 

“Don’t scold my Johnny. That’s my job.”

Price hummed. “Nice to see you again, Simon.” 

[fierce-deity-bgg]

How about legend and four with a reader who is seen by others as a boy because of his haircut? Like they cut it when they were in guard training or whatever from their hyrule, and the boys see the girls trying to flirt, without knowing that it's not a man? Feel free, just a stupid idea

Four and legand x kinda masc F! Reader / gender-fluid 

OMGGGGGG first of all I just wanna say thank you for this request I never thought that I would get a request from one of my fav story makers!! BTW LOV YOUR DARK LINK STUFF :D 

(Reader is going to be mostly like shuri from black panther movies and a bit non cannon reactions from characters😔)

Btw sorry this took so long seasonal depression hit me like a truck over the past few weeks:

~~~

Only just yesterday you finally decided it was time to cut your hair after a while of letting it grow all the way down to your waist. When you finally came out of the inn you and the chain were staying at for a while in gerudo town in wilds world you were almost unrecognizable at first. The only reason they actually knew it was you is because twi sniffed your sent from a mile way.

Wind: “wow I almost didn’t recognize them at first!” 😦

Time: “I don’t think any of us did wind.”

Four: “well he’s got a point- uh… and thei r gone.”

Legand: “great..”

You literally just dashed out of there going to the up draft before taking off the go find riju and hopefully train with her for a while. You eventually found her in north gerudo ruins training on dummies again and you both agreed to battle each other for a bit of training. Little did you know that four and legand were looking for you in gerudo town thinking you’ll be there.. 

(Yeah I’m doing a lot of time skips because I’m getting a mind grain😬)

—————————

After around 3-4 hours of training with ruji (Btw ruji was the only one that recognized you straight away) you both decided to head to the town hoping the see the chain their already and only after the first few minutes of you both walking into town you started getting stairs and people whispering..

“Did ruji let in an another voe already?”

“Most likely but he’s cute in my opinion.”

Once you heard the vais say that you started giving ruji a side eye like your telling her “let’s bounce” but before you could even take another step a group of vai walked up to you and started commenting how you looked or how strong you were (not like they knew) 

While the crowd was just getting larger and ruji was just trying to get you away from there you saw four and legend, and legend looked like he was about to beat the shit out of someone but he somehow kept his composer dragging you out of there in a instant with four watching

“You vai know that’s a female right?”

Four yelled into the crowd making everyone but ruji stunned as they were both pulling you back to the chain

“Never again..”

They both said almost in sync while you just nodded

“Fine fine… bozos-“

“Hey!”

~~~~~

Ye so uh that’s the end I might make a part two after Christmas but ye- 

Requests are still open and I’m posting my ais on here so wait up for that and pokepasta stufffffff��

BTW STILL LOVE UR STORIES AND THANKS FOR THE REQUEST😁

[tatertato]

life series smp winners playlists part 1

okay so i've been just absolutely brainrotting over this for like weeks now and its time to finally post it!

i've basically just been compiling songs that i think fit each of the life series winners, and they're either songs i've seen work really really well in animatics already or songs that would probably work really well, but are less popular or not associated with this fandom (yet)

i'll be linking+listing them here as well as providing little snippets of explanation for why i think the song fits, but i don't feel like making actual spotify playlists or smth, so if anyone else wants to do that, be my guest.

ofc i still had trouble finding good songs for some of them- if anyone seeing this has a good idea that i missed, lmk and i'll update these posts (no promises tho)

i was originally gonna put all of them into one post, but fortunately i have come to my senses, so this is part 1. here we go!

update:

pt 2 (LL!scott)

pt 3 (DL!pearl)

3rd Life: Grian

Eighth Wonder - Lemon Demon: this song gives major Watcher!Grian vibes imo

Extra clever Earth-bound spirit Ghost in the form Of a mongoose (watcher in the form of a player)

Hello, I'm here I'm living in the wall I know I might be small (common headcanons of short grian, also living surrounded by cactus walls!)

Jim, let me go I watch like Hell (self-explanatory)

2. A Big Day for Grimley - AJJ: this one is because of this animatic, and also the lyrics fit the characters almost too well

I went back to the desert, little Midwest in me And now I am colder than I used to be (it feels like him reflecting on his experiences in 3L)

I came back to the desert, and the desert came into me And now there’s a quietness, and it’s deafening (returned to the desert for the final duel, and now that he's the only one left, the absence of his partner is deafening)

i could go on much longer about this song, but i feel like the animatic sums it up really well so GO WATCH THAT GO GO GO

3. Take Me to War - The Crane Wives: i know that everyone and their mother has done desertduo crane wives, but i've yet to see anyone use this song, which is a shame since its one of my favorites!

I've earned myself a reputation That my bark is much worse than my bite But I keep snapping at Goliath's hands With all of my tiny might (technically, he's not red, and also his traps keep failing, so the threats are pretty empty, but that will not stop him from being a menace)

Take me to war Honey, I dare you I'll be the sweetest thing To ever scare you Give me a fight I can't resist Give me something to break with my fists Take me to war Honey, I dare you (same thing as the last one, but i had to put the chorus in this post, it's just too perfect)

So I will leave it where it's standing And instead I will find me a match I'll turn it all to kindling I'll burn it all down to ash (we love a bit of arson in this fandom)

4. Community Gardens - The Scary Jokes: this is watcher!grian again, sorry not sorry- i do have a really vivid image in my head of an animatic for this song tho (the brainrot goes deep, i cannot escape)

Full disclosure, I am a monster A creature of despair, not that that should be a cause for concern (its so watcher coded im gnawing on the walls)

You'll be fine, you honeycomb Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so cold? You'll be fine, oh, honey pie Who could ever hurt you? Who could be so unkind? (ok so remember when i said i had an animatic idea about two sentences ago? ya. so i imagine this part as watcher!grian going through and causing the final deaths of all the winners (except scar we'll get there i promise) for instance, smiting scott at the end of LL, severing pearl's soulmate string in DL, and checking the time left before killing martyn in LimL)

The culmination of man's mistakes came the day The sun ran so hot, it turned the desert to glass (this is the whole "hail mary" thing where they blew up the whole desert and still didn't kill anyone)

If there's something to be learned from all these losers It's that the price that you pay For arrogance and a false sense of immunity Is to face the wrath of a dying star (false sense of immunity is scar's no kill passes, reputation points, etc., which really didn't mean all that much in the end (see: Bdubs))

5. Passerine - The Oh Hellos: aside from the obvious bird symbolism (passerine are songbirds), the overall theme of this song fits the character pretty well! (i think it could also apply to DL jimmy if you squint)

You were the song that I'd always sing You were the light that the fire would bring But I can't shake this feeling that I was only Pushing the spear into your side again (3L typical desert/light/sun/fire imagery, with a bonus helping this time of 3L typical self doubt and/or survivor's guilt! you love to see it)

My palms and fingers still reek of gasoline From throwing fuel to the fire of that Greco-Roman dream Purifying the holy rock to melt the gilded seams It don't bring me relief, no it don't bring me nothing (more arson what can i say- also the hollow existentialism that comes with killing your friends)

When he comes a knocking at my door What am I to do, What am I to do, oh lord (ok i like to imagine this line as grian realizing that scar's SL win means he goes to hang out with the winners now, meaning uhoh reunion time! that's about to be awkward!)

6. Do It All The Time - IDKHBTFM: yeah i know it doesn't seem like it fits at first, but i think parts of it captures the spontaneous silliness of 3L pretty well

No reason why I'm only doing anything I want to do Because I do it all the time We're taking over the world A little victim-less crime (making monopolies (or trying to) really just because)

Now we're so young But we're probably gonna die It's so fun We're so good at selling lies (this one's pretty on the nose, but you get the idea)

and that's all for grian! stay tuned for LL!scott next!

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 15: Visitors

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

cw: minor descriptions of violence/physicall assault

Present Day, March 1987

“When are you going to move in,” Sarah asks over the phone.

“Next week, I think. I should get the keys in a few days and then we’ll take some time to get some basic furniture. Then we should be all good.”

Steve was excited for the move. Excited to get out of this house to something he owns. Something he can make his own. A place where he can walk through the door and see himself on the walls. In the furniture. Where it feels like home.

Not just a large house where most of the lights are never on. Suffocating anyone who lives in it.

It’ll be an adjustment. But he’s willing to do it. Ready to do it. He’s been stuck in the same loop for so long, he ready to break it.

“Any word from your parents?”

Steve still feels bad about that. If things went the way he wanted them to, Julie would never have to endure his parents. Over the phone or in person. Knowing her, she’d probably want to sit behind him in court. She’d see them there. But wouldn’t be dealing with him. That’s his job, not hers. Not anyone’s.

He’s been dealing with his parents for his entire life. He’s used to it. Knows how to shut up and say the right things just so the issue is dropped. Most of the time. Sometimes he fights back. Stands up for himself. Just to get knocked back down to the lowest peg possible. But he tries.

Now, it’s a totally different ballgame. They can’t knock him down again, not really. He’s stronger than he was back then. Older. More mature. Has a sense of his own self worth and how it doesn’t revolve around their opinions. They never cared enough to stay, why should he care about their words.

“Uh yeah. They got the papers, last I heard from the courthouse is that they got the response letter. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Well, that was to be expected. Anything else?”

Steve hesitates. “Yeah, um. I sort of got kicked out.”

“What?”

“Yeah, my dad said he wanted me gone. That if I thought I was going to get anything from them anymore I was wrong and can’t keep living here rent free. But they haven’t, like, sent a cop or anything to make sure I’m gone. So, it’s fine. I’m handling it.”

“That’s only because you have an in with the Chief, Steve,” Sarah says sternly. He can picture the frustration on her face. “When did they tell you this?”

“Two weeks ago.”

Sarah swears under her breath. “You’re cutting it close here, Steve.”

“I know,” he says before she can continue. “I know I am. But we’re so close to getting out. Most of our stuff is out of the house except for essentials, and I have people on standby incase they come home. I’m not going into this blind. I know how they are.”

“The minute they show up, the minute that this backup plan gets put into place, you call me immediately.”

Steve knows that Sarah’s just planning for the worst possible outcome. That it’s better to plan for things that might never happen than to scramble for a solution. He doesn’t want to think of the worst. Deep down, there’s a strong feeling that it’s actually going to happen.

Because he does know them. He knows how they will want to fight. They don’t want to do it at all. Threats have gotten them out of trouble before, it shouldn’t be any different now. Only Steve wasn’t giving up. Giving in. He separated himself from them enough that their words don’t mean shit anymore.

At least that’s how he’ll act. In court, he’ll tell the judge the truth, not caring what their going to say as a rebuttal. The way they’ll tear him down as much as they can. It won’t affect him then, but Steve has no way of knowing how it will affect him behind closed doors.

Despite everything, someone deep inside him craves for their approval. Their attention. That person has been getting satisfaction knowing that he’s getting it somehow. The same person that threw large parties just to get the cops called. Just to see if they would show up again. Give him a phone call. Steve wants to ignore that part of him, but it’s there.

That same part of him will probably cry when this is all over. Knowing that his parents are done with him forever. That they think the worst of him. Their opinion shouldn’t matter. It still does sometimes.

“I promise I will,” Steve assures.

“Good.” Sarah hangs up without another word.

Steve’s relationship with his parents has always been complicated. He knew that. Everyone knew that. There was a small hope that if he just acted right, did all the right things, the relationship would become less complicated. Less strained. He’d be their son the way other sons were. Not just a trophy to sit on a shelf, but something more. It never became that, no matter how hard he tried.

So he stopped trying, and look where he is now.

. . .

Julie was putting her plate in the sink when a car pulled into the driveway. Steve’s head turned to the door, wondering who it is. He never does that. People come and go here all the time, normally Eddie since he has a car. Robin if she gets him to pick her up on the way.

But Steve never turns his head when it’s them. Like he has some sort of sixth sense when it comes to random people showing up at his door. Always knowing who it is before he sees them. This is different.

Still, Julie doesn’t pay much thought on it. It’s probably just one of them. Or maybe one of the kids had their parents drive them over. It’s nothing.

Until they hear the garage door start to open. No one ever uses the garage.

Steve’s body tightens. Standing straighter that he normally does.  He abandons his dish in the sink, walking toward the door leading to the garage. On attention. Waiting for something to pounce.

She’s never seen him like this before.

When he returns to the kitchen, there’s a frightened look in his eye. One that immediately makers her heart start to pound faster. It can’t be that bad. What can scare him into looking like this? Spine tied up with a string. Stance ready to start running. Afraid. He’s so afraid.

His mouth opens to say something as a car door slams. A rage filled voice traveling across the house. Enough that she can place who’s it is, even after only hearing it once. Steve’s fear matches in her eyes.

“Steve, who’s here?” Her voice waivers.

Without saying a word, Steve gently grabs her arm and brings her to the sliding door. “You can’t be here right now. They can’t know you’re here.”

“Steve,” she asks again.

He slides the door open, the evening air making her shiver. “The Byers house isn’t that far through the woods. You remember going there for Christmas Eve, right? Go straight about thirty feet, then make a right and keep walking.”

“Steve.”

The door starts to open, and the voices fill the other room. Steve’s eyes dart towards the sound before landing back on her. Only making her more scared.

“I’ll be there within an hour with the rest of our stuff. But it will be worse if they see you’re here. I don’t want them to hurt you.”

“Steve,” she pleads for him to slow down.

“You got it. Go to the loose fence behind the pool house and then walk straight a little bit. Then make a right and keep going. You’ll see their house after a while. Take this.” He reaches for the walkie on the kitchen table. Messing with the dial. “When you get to the woods, call for a code red. It won’t go to everyone, just to them. I’ll be there when I can.”

Before Julie can say anything else, Steve pushes her out the door and shuts it behind her. Sliding the lock into place.

Heavy breaths fill her lungs, burning slightly with the chilled air. She looks at Steve though the glass. Face frantically asking for an explanation. Trying to convince her the one she has is wrong. They can’t be here right now.

“Go, please,” Steve mouths through the glass. Terrified.

Julie turns. Walking to the pool house. Finding the loose panels of the fence and pulls them to the side. The same way she would do when she would sneak into this backyard. When she lived in that other house and would do anything not to be there.

Steve’s instructions replay in her mind. Walk straight for a bit, about thirty feet. Maybe more. The turn right and keep walking until you see the house. Call for a code red. Julie looks at the walkie in her hand before she presses the button. Seeing how her hand in shaking.

“Copy,” a man’s voice comes through the speaker. Julie unable to place it right now. “I’ll wait outside for you. If you don’t see the porch light, look for the flashlight. Call again if you get lost.”

Julie turns to the house again. The light click on in Steve’s room. He shouldn’t be much longer. There’s not much else to grab. He should be right after her.

She thinks about waiting. But she already called. They’ll get worried if she doesn’t show up.

Her mind can’t stop racing as she walks. Sun setting slowly as it becomes harder to see the ground. Squinting to make sure she doesn’t trip on a root or branch.

Did Steve’s parents really show up? Just unannounced. That part wasn’t as surprising when she thought about it. They seemed like the people to do that. Steve mentioned that they might come home. She didn’t believe it then. She barely believed it now.

He was right. They showed up at the worst possible time. Give it another week and they would have been out of there anyway. But no, they just had to show up today.

The rage of Steve’s father’s voice rings in her head. The threats on the phone call finding their way back to her mind. What would they do when they saw he was still there? He wanted the two of them gone, that didn’t happen. Not yet. It was happening, but something told Julie that wouldn’t matter. In their heads, Steve disobeyed them. Again.

. . .

Steve watches Julie round the pool house before he turns away. Knowing that she’s going to a safe place, that no matter what the Byers’ will take care of her. His safety, he’s not so sure about. Anger fills his dad fast, and it’s already bubbling over with the sight of the Beemer still sitting in the driveway. Or the fact that there’s lights on in the house.

He’s about to see his parents for the first time in two years. And he’s terrified.

Everything slows down like one of the horror movie scenes. Where the footsteps thump down the hall while the protagonist just stands and waits like an idiot. Waiting for it to strike. They don’t seem like such idiots anymore. Steve knows how feet can feel glued to the floor, but it has a whole new meaning now.

His back is straight, chest puffed out in a way that makes him look bigger than he is. Anything to make him more menacing than his father’s glare. Or fist. Or whatever is coming his way as his father finds his way to the kitchen.

For the first time in two years, Steve looks at his father’s face. Disgusted how much it looks like his. A constant reminder of where he comes from, no matter how hard he tries. Rage filled eyes meet Steve’s, waiting for him to make the first move. All he does is cross his arms, clench his jaw. Trap his father in a glare. He’s not speaking until he has to.

“Steven,” his mother breaks the silence. “We were not expecting you.”

She always tried to keep the peace between them. To try and keep in his father’s rage. It rarely worked. But she tried. It was the one thing Steve commended her for. Deep down, he felt bad for her. Trapped in an unhappy marriage having to follow after Richard just to make sure he didn’t cheat. But that still meant leaving him, and she didn’t call enough for him to forgive for that.

“No, we were not,” Richard finally speaks, voice tense. “What are you still doing here?” Considering you are no longer welcome in this house, that is.

His father can’t even speak his name. Steve debates walking past right up to his room. Filling the last tote bag before doing the same with the rest of Julie’s stuff. Walking out without an explanation. His father raises his eyebrow with a tilt to his head. Awaiting an explanation.

Instead, Steve decides to gloat. “I’m actually just waiting for the keys to my house. Didn’t want the neighbors to think you left your son to sleep in his car. That wouldn’t be so nice to the reputation, wouldn’t it, dad.” He continues to glare at his father, not backing down.

His father lets out a condescending laugh. “If you were so concerned about reputation, then we wouldn’t have to go to court. Would we, Steven? Instead, you think that you deserve some kind of justice. After all we’ve done for you.”

It’s Steve’s turn to laugh. “What did you do for me exactly?”

“Put a roof over your head, make sure there was money to put food on the table. Give you a car, clothes, expensive gifts. See you through high school, pay for your sports equipment. Everything you have is because we gave it to you.” Richard’s voice raises, almost yelling. Almost.

Steve resists a flinch when the last word booms through the room. Instead of saying another word, he side-steps his parents, heading upstairs. Flicking on the light in his room, stuffing as much of his stuff into a tote bag. His room already looks bare except for the sheet and the stupid car poster on his wall.

His mother appears in his doorway moments later, a more silent argument ready to be said. Until she sees the walls. “You painted?” she gasped.

“I did. Hope you don’t mind. I won’t be here much longer anyway. You can turn it back into what it was.”

A sickened smile forms on his mother’s face. “You never told me you wanted to change your room. We could have done it together.”

Meaning that she could have changed it while he watched. Hating how it would have turned out no matter what the product was. His mother never listened to him anyway.

“Well, you were never here long enough to change it, so I just did it myself.” He smiles to himself when his mother’s smile twitches. Knowing that his words stung.

The tote bag gets slung over his shoulder as he pushes past her. Leaving her to look at her ruined masterpiece as he packs up Julie’s room. Pulling out the tote bag she has underneath her bed and putting away the few essentials that she had left. Taking out another to shove her clothes into.

His mother gasps as she sees the paint over these walls as well. This room in particular being her favorite guest room. “What have you done?”

“Painted. Like I said.” He continues to fill the second tote bag.

Richard finds his way up the stairs, done waiting for Steve. Eyes landing on the desk where the picture of Julie and her mother rests. Steve grabs it before he can, gently placing it in the tote bag. Throwing some clothes around it so it doesn’t break.

“Has someone been living in here?” his father asks, not willing to admit he recognized the woman in the picture.

Steve takes a deep breath. “Oh no one special. Just your daughter.”

His parents stiffen at the same time. Bringing a sly smile to Steve’s face.

“I don’t have a daughter,” his mother says with feigned confidence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to him.” He meets his father’s eyes again. “I was talking about Julie.”

As fast the smile formed of Steve’s face, it’s smacked off. Cheek stinging with the contact of his father’s hand. His mother gasps, scolding her husband. Knowing nothing would stop him from doing it again. Steve grabs the desk chair, using it to balance him as he gets his bearings. Waits for the ringing in his ear to calm down, for the breath to return to his lungs.

“You are never to speak that name again,” Richard commands. “She is nothing.”

“Julie is not nothing.” Steve manages to stand, only to have to grip the chair again when Richard’s fist makes contact again. Lip darting out to taste the blood coming from his split lip. A short laugh escapes as he stands, planting his feet stronger this time. “You really thought I’d never figure out about her.”

“You think you are so tough, don’t you, Steven. Changing your room, getting a job, housing someone you don’t know. All of that you could do because of me. All of that you are going to lose. What will come of you when you don’t have us paying for everything anymore? When you can’t come crawling back to us when life gets hard.”

Steve manages to stand again. Plants his feet the way he’s learned to. Treating his father like every other monster he’s faced. Wishing that there was a bat in his hand to twirl around. Make a show of protecting himself.

He doesn’t need it this time. Richard might pretend to be strong and menacing, but he’s just a person. Who got a few good hits in because Steve wasn’t prepared for them. He is now.

“You would know something about housing someone you don’t know. You’ve been housing me for twenty years.”

Richard’s arm raises again, but Steve was ready for it this time. Catching his wrist before it can contact Steve’s face. It surprises the both of them, but Steve doesn’t let his guard down. His eyes dart to his mother, who hides just barely behind Richard. Laura was never one for confrontation, and now he’s something more than just her son. Now he’s a threat.

“I am more than what you think I am. I changed my room because I never liked the old one. Because I should feel welcome in my childhood home. I got the job because if my hard work, not because of my name. I gave Julie a home because she is my sister, that is a fact. And because her and I have something in common. Our father knows nothing about us.”

“Let go of me, Steven.” For the first time, Richard is the one with fear in his eyes.

“Are you going to hit me again?” Steve tightens his grip.

Richard shakes his head. “No, no I’m not. Don’t do anything rash here, Steven.”

Steve lets go of Richard’s wrist with a swing, letting it slam back into him. “I go by Steve, but you both always ignored that anyway. I’m not some kid you get to push around anymore, no matter how hard you’ll try. You might think I’m stupid for staying here after you told me to get out, you might think what I’m doing is pointless. But I’m not doing all of this for me anymore, I’m doing it for me and for Julie. Because while you thought she was just something you could pay to never think about again, you missed out on a pretty great kid.”

He takes a deep breath. “But I guess you’re used to that. You missed out on the kid you kept around. Even if you weren’t here to see me grow up. I hope it all was worth it. It was a lot of hell for me.”

Steve grabs the tote bags, slinging one over each shoulder and the other in his hand. Taking a moment to realize that this is the last time he’ll ever set foot in this house. It’ll no longer be his home. It should be sadder than it is. There were many good memories among the bad that happened here. But he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. It’s not over yet, but he’s free of one of his chains.

“You going to let me leave? Not like you want me here anyway.”

Neither of them moves. Not ready to admit they lost.

“Where are you going to go?” Laura asks like she cares. She might, but it was too little too late at this point.

“You don’t get to know that.”

Laura lowers her head in a nod, accepting. Steve pushes his way past them and down the stairs. Finding his keys.

Richard follows him down, not willing to give up. “Don’t think you can have the car, we paid for that. It’s ours.”

Steve laughs, undoing a keychain Robin made him from the ring. “I know, was just getting this off.” He tosses Richard the keys. “There you go. House key is on there too, so you won’t have to bother about me coming back.”

He grabs his flashlight from the hall closet before opening the door. Sparing one last look at his parents, to find anything that shows remorse. All he sees is Richard’s hard stare and Laura’s sorry eyes. Nothing calling him to stay.

So he leaves.

. . .

Julie was lucky she didn’t get lost. She followed the directions and, after a while, saw the porch light. The last bit of sunlight helps her get the rest of the way there. Illuminating the path just slightly so she doesn’t trip.

“Hey,” a voice says from beside her, making her jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Julie turns to see the Chief holding a flashlight, the light pointing towards her. “I think you would have even if I knew you were there.”

“Come on, let’s get you inside. It’s getting cold out here.” Hopper steps in front of her, leading her the rest of the way.

Joyce is waiting for them in the house. Getting up from the couch when they open the door. “You’ve been out there for a while. I was getting worried. Oh honey, you’re shaking, are you cold?”

Julie looks down at her hands, seeing them shake. She doesn’t feel cold. More in shock than anything. Afraid of something she’s never really experienced. Only hearing his voice once over the phone. That was enough to spark fear. Not for her, but for Steve.

It was all she could think about when she was walking. What Steve was going to face when his parents saw that he wasn’t there. If they saw what they did to their rooms. If they saw her.

She agreed it was probably best that she wasn’t there. It would have probably made it all ten times worse. But leaving Steve alone in that house, with them. It felt like a bad idea.

He can take care of himself, she knew that. That didn’t stop her from feeling like she should be there. Be a barrier to stop them from hurting him. In whatever way they were going to. Maybe if there was a witness, he could leave without a fight.

“Julie, sweetie, are you ok?” Joyce’s warm voice breaks through her thoughts.

Julie tries to say something, but nothing comes out. It hits her all at once how scared she was for him.

“What time is it?” she asks.

Joyce checks the clock in the living room. “Just about seven thirty, why?”

Julie left a little after seven. So, assuming Steve left right after her, he should be here soon. And if he left a bit later, he should be here by eight. That’s if nothing went wrong. If they didn’t get into an argument. Or he didn’t get lost.

“He said he’d get here within the hour. So by eight. If nothing happened. Do you think something will happen?” Her voice can’t help but shake.

Joyce makes a face that is supposed to help but doesn’t. Full of sympathy, but one of no answers. “I’m not sure. But whatever it is, he’ll be fine. I know he will.”

“And if he isn’t?” Julie keeps seeing the small person that Steve becomes when he talks to his father. How the light drains out of him, and he becomes a shell of the person he is. His father isn’t even in person and can do that. What will happen when he is in person?

“He will be,” Joyce assures. “How about you come in, sit down. Can I get you anything? Water, hot chocolate?”

Julie lets herself be led to the living room. “Water would be nice.”

“Alright. El here if you want to see her, have someone to sit with.”

“Yeah, yes. I would like that.”

Joyce smiles at her. “Ok, I’ll go get her for you. Jim.” She nods her head toward the kitchen before heading down the hall.

Hopper brings her a glass of water, which she takes. Taking a sip before setting it on the table, seeing how her hands still shake. Joyce comes back down the hall motioning for Hopper to join her in the kitchen. Leaving Julie alone in the living room. Until El comes to sit next to her.

“Joyce told me about what happened,” she says softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“He used to hit my mom,” Julie blurts out. “He used to hit my mom when they were together, and she made him angry. Steve made him angry. I know he did. He called the house last week and, and kicked us out. And we didn’t leave yet, because we couldn’t. Steve doesn’t get the keys for a few more days. What if he hits Steve, too?”

El’s hands find hers, holding them together to calm the shaking. Julie turns her head to meet El’s eyes. Seeing an expression that feigns strength but fear still rests in her eyes. She’s scared for Steve too.

“I have known Steve for longer that you have. I know how strong he is, how brave he is. He will be ok. I promise.” There’s a certainty in her words.

Somehow, Julie believes her. “Ok. Ok, yeah. Yeah. He’ll be ok.”

“Would you like a hug?”

Julie nods. Her breath starting to even out again, the adrenaline keeping her tears at bay failing.

El opens her arms and leans forward to give Julie a hug. Julie takes it with a choked sob, tears starting to fall. El pats her back awkwardly, not quite sure what to do but it’s helping. With a few deep breaths, Julie’s able to pull herself together. Pulling away from El to wipe the tears from her eyes. She won’t be ok until Steve shows up, but she’s better. For now.

“Thanks, that helped.”

El smiles. “Good. Do you want to watch something while we wait? Keep your mind off of it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

El clicks on the tv, finding a channel with some reruns that Julie doesn’t pay attention to. Her mind is still on Steve. Knowing that the there’s no sunlight left to guide the way, and he has no walkie to let her know when she’s coming. Yet she still grips the one resting in her lap. Hoping by some miracle she hears Steve’s voice through the staticky connection and knows he’s ok.

But nothing comes through. The only noise filling the house is the tv, and the not so silent whispering between Joyce and the Chief in the kitchen. After a while, Hopper heads back outside with the flashlight, walkie stuffed in his jacket pocket. He’s going to look for Steve.

It feels like forever before there’s a knock at the door. Making Julie sit up straighter. Joyce emerges from the kitchen to open it. A very winded Steve behind the door, tote bags slung over his shoulder and flashlight in hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes while catching his breath. “I had to go the long way.”

Joyce ushers him in. Steve barely gets a chance to put the bags down before Julie’s on her feet and pulling him into a hug.

“You’re ok.”

“Yeah, I’m ok. Did you get here ok, I know I kind of freaked you out.”

Julie lets go. “Freaked me out. Steve, you terrified the shit out of me. After the phone call last week and the little I knew about him I,” she pauses when she sees his split lip. “He hit you?”

Steve touches his lip. “Yeah, he, uh, he did. But I’m ok. I’ve had far worse than this.”

“You say that like it makes it ok. It doesn’t.”

He looks down with a shake of his head. “I know it doesn’t.”

“He really hit you because you didn’t leave.” Julie can’t seem to wrap her head around the idea. But then, she would never hit someone for any reason. Let alone that.

Steve clears his throat. “Sort of. Why don’t you go sit with El for a bit, I have to talk to Joyce for a second.”

She gives him a confused look, knowing he didn’t answer her question fully. But she still goes to sit on the couch again. Him and Joyce go to the kitchen, speaking in whispers. Something tells her that reason he was attacked was because of her.

. . .

Joyce uses her walkie to let Hopper know that Steve is at the house. She gets him a glass of water and makes him sit down, looking at his lip.

“It’s really not that bad. You and I both know this is the least beat up I’ve ever been after a fight.”

She sits down in the chair across from him. “You should listen to Julie. That still doesn’t make it ok.”

He looks down at his hands. “I know. Just easier to think of it that way. Out of all the things he’s done, he’s never hit me before.”

Hopper comes into the kitchen, sitting down next to Joyce. “You ok, kid?”

Steve shakes his head. “I will be, just need a second. Thanks for making sure she got here. Making sure she was safe. I didn’t know what would happen if he saw her there. Just knowing that she was there at all was the reason why,” he can’t finish the sentence.

“Of course. You both can stay here as long as you need to,” Joyce offers.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Hopper crosses his arms. “You could press charges if you wanted, make your case a little stronger.”

“It’s my word against his, and my mom will never speak out against him.” She never did before, why would it change now. “Can I use your phone, I need to make some calls.”

Joyce nods and Steve heads to the phone in the hall. Pulling out Sarah’s number from his pocket. Dialing it with a deep breath. She wouldn’t be happy with this.

She wasn’t. Cursing Steve through the phone with an “I told you so”. But grateful that Julie is safe, grateful that he is too. She gives him a day before she’ll say anything. Give him time to make it look like Julie was just at an extended sleepover. For them to move. He thanks her just before she hangs up.

Robin is next. Takes a second to make sure he’s ok before cursing out his dad. Offering to go over there herself and give him a piece of her mind. He tells her it’s a bad idea, she disagrees, but still says she will keep it all for when she sees him in court. That way there will be witnesses. She makes sure he’s ok, offers to come over. Steve assures that he’s fine and will talk to her again in the morning.

The last person is Eddie. Steve already knows how he’ll react, but still hopes he won’t freak out that much.

“Where are you right now?” he asks after Steve fills him in.

“The Byers. It was the closest place that was safe.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Steve holds the phone closer to his mouth. “Eds, really. You don’t have to come over.”

“Like hell I don’t.” Eddie hangs up before Steve can protest anymore.

He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want to see Eddie right now. That if knowing that his boyfriend was willing to drop everything just to be there with him right now didn’t bring him comfort. Part of him didn’t want Eddie to see him like this, though. Fragile, partially homeless. Taken a few hits to the face.

As if Eddie hasn’t seen Steve beat up before. Pretty much all of Hawkins has, it’s a reoccurring event. But those times were different. It was because of his own idiocy or protecting someone. This was at the hands of someone that already caused him more pain than he should have gone through. He didn’t know how to admit that he got hit for no reason.

He heads back to the kitchen, tells them that Eddie’s coming over. They don’t say much, but have a knowing look in their eye. One that scares the hell out of him, but makes him feel seen at the same time. Steve could be himself in this house. Around these people. It wasn’t even his, and it felt more like home than he’s ever known.

“I never asked if you were ok,” Steve says as he sits down next to Julie. “Are you?”

Julie shrugs. “As ok as I can be I guess.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Did he hit you because of me?” Julie asks after a pause.

Steve would do anything to lie to her right now. To dart around the question and make up some excuse. Knowing her, she would see right through it. She didn’t need him lying to add to tonight. But would it be better for her to know the truth?

There’s a knock at the door before Steve can try to answer. He thinks it’s for the best. Enough has happened for one night.

He stands when Joyce opens the door. Almost getting pushed out of the way when Eddie sees Steve in the living room. They meet in a hug, Steve feeling more relieved that he thought he would.

“Those jackasses couldn’t have waited a few more days before they finally came home. They had to do it while you were still there.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. “Yeah well, they never had the best timing.”

Eddie notices the cut on his lip when he pulls back from the hug. Eyes filling with anger. “I’m actually going to get arrested for murder this time.”

“Eds, it’s really not that bad.”

“Not that bad.” Eddie’s voice raises. “Not that bad, Steve. You have a fucking split lip. Your eye is puffy.”

Steve tries to calm Eddie down, still conscious of the people around them. Trying not to make it look too revealing. “It could be worse.”

He sees Joyce say something to the girls that gets them to leave and head down the hall. Leaving him and Eddie alone in the living room.

“How hard did he hit you? Can you hear me alright? What about your vision, nothing’s blurry. You can still see fine?” Eddie clocks when they leave, grabbing Steve’s head with both his hands, assessing the damage.

Steve tries to pull Eddie’s hands away, make this less of a big deal. “I can hear and see fine. He didn’t hit me hard enough to do anything. I’ve had worse, it’s the least concerning thing that’s happened in the last few hours.”

“Your father, a grown man, assaulted you. His son. And you think there are more concerning things that happened in the last few hours.” Eddie’s face falls. “Just because you’re an adult when he hit you doesn’t make it better.”

“I know that,” he admits. Starting to feel the weight of everything finally sink in. “I just don’t know how to process it all right now. Tonight’s been a lot and I just need a minute, a day, I don’t know. Something. I just can’t think about that right now.”

“Ok,” Eddie says softly. “Ok. Then we won’t talk about it anymore. When every you’re ready. Does it hurt though, do you need ice or anything? Last thing, I promise.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, no. It’s ok. I’m ok right now.”

Eddie nods. Kissing Steve before pulling him into another hug.

Just when Steve gets his life together, it all falls apart again. Or at least feels like it. In just a few days, the pieces will be put back into place. His life will get back on schedule. His schedule. Where he can move into a house that he bought, with his own money. To a job that he got, by himself. And life that has nothing to do with his last name.

Even if the court date is a few months away, and he’ll have to see his parents again. But after that, he’ll never have to interact with them again. He will be permanently free.

Right now. He’s trying to hold it all together. Making his brain slow down to give himself a minute to breath. Before the crushing reality of all that just happened presses down on his chest. And they’ll take hold of his mind again. Just for a little while, then he’ll break free again.

Joyce insists they stay the night. Explaining how Julie is already set up in El’s room, and how the two of them can take the pull-out couch. Just like that, with no explanation needed. Or excuses. Maybe Steve could tell everyone about them soon.

It’s still early when everyone goes to bed. Just wanting the day to be over, even if they’re not tired. But the comfort of darkness lets Eddie scoot closer, hold Steve a little tighter. Make him feel put together even though he’s slowly starting to fall apart.

Tomorrow is a new day. With plenty of problems to be solved and conversations to be had. Telling the rest of the group to stay clear of his old house and change his contact information with a few people. Try to get the keys a few days earlier.

Tonight is meant for sleep. To float around and exist without anything pressing his mind. Wrapped up in his boyfriend’s arms and feel comfort for a brief moment. Until his looks in the mirror again and see the healing cut on his lip, and the slight bruise on his cheek. Almost fall apart all over again until he pulls himself back together. Each time a little weaker than the last until he finally breaks.

It’s so easy to fall back into old habits. To bottle everything up for the sake of other. For the sake of himself. Steve really can’t process everything right now. It would sting more that it already does. So, it gets pushed away. Until he’s ready to face it again.

He only hopes that time will be sooner than most. So he doesn’t blow up at someone that’s undeserving. Saying something he can’t take back.

But right now, he doesn’t need to think about that. Right now he needs to sleep.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman, @lilpomelito @melonmochi

[raineandsky]

A Date in Exchange

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

It’s been several days of not seeing the villain—they’re not even in the streets anymore. It’s getting close to the point in the week where they show up on the hero’s doorstep with that stupid flurry of flowers and that even stupider scowl that keeps getting darker with each week, but their silence is making the hero think they might skip out on their little date night for the first time.

They know their parents would worry if they suddenly went radio silent on their supposed partner. That’s what this feeling is. They’re not concerned for the villain. They just have a lot riding on them showing up. That’s all.

Their concern for the villain’s absence manifests into a short text message, one of many sent over the past few days.

I was hoping we could talk about things. It’s our usual night - I’ll get some wine and we can keep it casual?

The sound of their phone pinging 15 minutes later almost stops their heart, and they practically vault over their table to snatch their phone up.

I wanted to talk anyway. I’ll be there at my usual time

It’s the most grammatically correct message the villain’s ever sent, and it makes the hero’s insides twist nervously. They've never used capitalisation in their life. Or punctuation. They want to talk.

That’s not what matters though, the hero tells themself. They’re coming. I can fix things.

Things could be shit with the villain for all they care. This is only because of their parents. Nothing else.

The hero doesn’t set up some random activity like they usually do. They don’t want their nemesis to think that they’re trying to pretend everything is fine. They set an empty vase on the table, throw a lasagne in the oven just in case, and simply opt to wait.

The sound of their own doorbell ringing is as relieving as it is nauseating. The villain is on their doorstep, of course, and they don’t even try to offer the hero a smile. They somehow get more bothered when the door opens, if anything.

“Hey,” the hero opens softly. They step back to let the villain in, but they stay rooted to their spot outside.

“I’m not staying long,” the villain tells them flatly, and the hero can feel that twist again. “I’m just here to say something.”

“Surely you can say it out of the cold.”

The villain heaves a deep breath, their sigh puffing in a cloud in front of their face. “I’m calling it off.”

The hero can’t define what feeling is gnawing at them at the news. Betrayal? Annoyance? Heartbreak? “Is… is this because of my parents?”

The villain shrugs half-heartedly. “I think what your mother said put some stuff into perspective about what we’re doing. I can’t marry you because she said so, jesus.”

“You can ignore her,” the hero says instantly. “She doesn’t understand.”

“Exactly. How long are you expecting me to lie about this, [Hero]?” The villain’s expression turns pissed. “Do we have a beautiful wedding, have kids, die together? Where’s the line?”

They’ve clearly been thinking about this a lot. No wonder they disappeared for so long. “She can’t make us get married, [Villain]. That doesn’t have to happen.”

“Good, because there’s no way in hell I would marry you like this.”

Something in that hurts, and the hero can’t quite tell why. “Can you just come in? I put a lasagne on and I don’t want to waste it.”

They’re not sure why they’re so set on saving this, but the villain looks past them and into the comfortable warmth, and the slightly defeated nod they give the hero makes their heart sing with hope.

The villain makes an attempt to settle into the sofa as the hero goes about taking the lasagne out of the oven. It’s a little burnt—they timed it a bit too well with the villain’s arrival. The edges are crisp but it’s still edible, and they carefully dollop it onto a pair of plates.

“I get that you don’t want to marry me, and I’m not asking you to.” The hero slides a plate in front of the villain, who doesn’t seem to have much of an appetite. “Don’t let my mother put you off.”

“Why are you so set on me doing this?” The question would be cold if it wasn’t for the slight knit in the villain’s eyebrows. “Why couldn’t you have asked anyone else?”

They wish they knew—they’re sure their parents would like any other so-called partner they could bring home. It would feel wrong doing it with anyone else, though. It’s easier to shrug it off when it’s with someone you hate, right?

They let their gaze rest on the villain, though, their eyes searching the hero’s for a semblance of an answer, their lips pulled into a slightly concerned frown, and for god’s sake they’re still stunning. It’s unfair. Things are starting to make sense alarmingly fast, sitting there staring at their fake lover, and they decide that they need to stop thinking right now.

“I don’t know.” They get to their feet so they can find an excuse to look elsewhere, beelining for the alcohol cupboard. “Look, it’s my father’s birthday this weekend, and I don’t want to ruin it with bad news. Can you hold off until then?”

“Please don’t make me actually pretend to be in a relationship with you in front of other people again.”

The hero grimaces, and the villain goes through the five stages of grief based on their expression alone. “He invited you.”

“I hate you and your parents,” the villain tells them with a scowl.

“So you’ll come?” the hero asks hopefully. A wine bottle pops open in their hand, and the villain doesn’t complain.

They scowl again, and it’s infuriating that they look so good doing it. “Last time ever. After that we stop lying and it’s over.”

The idea of this being a cold memory in less than a week hurts more than it should. The hero misses five minutes ago when they couldn’t figure out why. “Promise.”

(Final part!)

[velnna]

Hi! I know this might be a bit of an unconventional question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t feel comfortable, but I remember you mentioned that you had top surgery a while back and I was wondering what your healing process was like with the type of incision you went for and if you got sensation back? I’m a couple years off being able to get top surgery myself and whilst I’ve been looking forward to it for years I’m still pretty nervous, especially with the healing process and the sensation and stuff. Again I understand if you don’t feel comfortable answering but I hope you have a great day regardless!

Heya! Not a problem, I don't mind sharing my experience on this :)

I'm a bit over 7 months post-op now, DI with grafts. The whole thing went super smoothly for me so I'd say read it as a best case scenario type of situation. It seems hard to predict how these things go since they depend on so many factors and people's bodies respond differently to things

I only had drains in place for the single inpatient day immediately after the surgery - they removed them after 24h because there was barely any fluid being drained and I got sent home with just the compression vest thingy. That first day was a bit rocky (anaesthesia really did a number on me lol) but by the second day I felt fine, painkillers kept like 90% of pain at bay, and I had pretty much full arm mobility (as in I could move my arms fine, just not use them for anything to do with weights for obvious reasons). Spent a week wailing about because despite not having surgery related pain the compression vest was uncomfortable to the point of straining my rib muscles, messing with my stomach and back, etc. Nothing serious just not fun either

Got that removed after a week tho, put on a lighter compression vest that felt like heaven and two weeks post-op I was cleared to remove it to shower, dress the incisions, etc, and that pretty much went on for 3 ish months before it was chill to just get rid of it altogether. Incisions healed well, grafts took nicely, no issues with movement and I'd say about 4 months in I was fine to work out etc.

In terms of scarring and sensation, there's also been a lot of evolution and I can tell it's still not 100% settled. If you're squeamish about scars and sensations, it might take a while to get used to it, but personally I didn't really struggle with that at all. In the first few months I had very little to no sensation in the area, but at this point it's sort of levelled out I think. Some areas are still numb but it's not something that actively bothers me, you kinda need to feel around and poke to really tell lol

I hope this helps or is interesting 😅 like I said, I get the sense that this varies wildly depending on the surgery and individual, so it's very anecdotal. You can definitely mentally prepare for whatever, but at the end of the day if you have a trustworthy surgeon and follow their instructions there isn't all that much to fear about the process itself

[blazehedgehog]

Might seem like a random question - but out of nostalgia I pirated sonic advance 3, and tried 1 and 2 also, cause never played them as a kid - but that made me think

Do most sonic "fans" actually like the "if you lose all lives you gotta replay everything from the start" - because I got to world 4 in both and then died and that made me have zero motivation to ever play them again lol (while I appreciate advance 3 for actually having an overworld and stuff, makes it feel alive, like the "downtime" to me doesnt seem like filler but serves the porpuse off cooling of between the action, rethinking your steps and just give the illusion of it being more than a few levels strung together)

I mean, you are describing a practice that all games used to have, not just Sonic games. Super Mario Wonder, a 2023 release, still has a lives system.

If you mean the game forces you to restart the entire game from level 1 if you get a game over, that means something isn't working right with your copy of the game. Your ROM isn't a clean dump, or you haven't set the emulator up right, or something.

Like I even double checked just now to make sure: I beat Route 99 Acts 1 and 2, and got a game over on Act 3. It did not undo my progress and Acts 1 and 2 remain completed.

Do you by any chance have all of this stored on your desktop? Windows can get REALLY picky about file permissions in certain locations and it might be blocking the emulator from writing the save file.

The fact of the matter is, I don't really like Sonic Advance 3.

Sonic Advance 1 is a charming take on the classic Sonic formula. It's not perfect, and once the honeymoon period of its different art style wears off, the gameplay and themes are honestly pretty generic. But it's fine. It does not offend the senses. It nails the pacing and the feel and that's good enough.

Sonic Advance 2 is a little more its own thing. It's kind of clumsy and can get really frustrating (particularly with the bosses) but it's fast as hell and paves the way for games like Sonic Rush, Sonic Unleashed, and Sonic Generations. Those games would not exist without Sonic Advance 2's baby steps, and it's one of those games that I think is really fun to master. I will play Sonic Advance 2 any day of the week (up until the boss of Ice Paradise Zone. Also don't ask me about SP rings)

The thing about Sonic Advance 1 and 2 is they are kind of reflective of the games they were released nearest to. Sonic Advance 1 was following the pacing of the original Sonic Adventure, by being more of a platformer. Sonic Advance 2 takes after Sonic Adventure 2, by being non-stop balls-to-the-wall high speed action, with a focus on flow and momentum.

Sonic Advance 3 tips its hat to Sonic Heroes, but it feels like it was cobbled together out of scraps they fished out of the garbage for Sonic Advance 1 and 2. It wants to be both slower like Sonic Advance 1 but faster like Sonic Advance 2 at the same time and it can't decide between the two.

It mainly does this with the ring system. The more rings you're holding, the more the game raises your acceleration and overall speed cap. Basically, more rings = faster.

But then Sonic Advance 3 is the absolute worst, out of the whole entire trilogy, for punishing you for going too fast. It constantly puts enemies and spikes in the meanest possible places so you're always running into them by accident. So it's a game of going faster and faster and faster right up until you get caught in a gotcha trap and then you're back to being slow as hell again. And when you're slow in Sonic Advance 3, you're SLOW. You feel so sluggish.

That's on top of what I feel like is generally ugly, sloppy level design. Like I said, levels look like leftovers they didn't think were good enough for the first game, and tile alignment errors are all over the place.

Levels themselves are endlessly criss-crossing mazes that interrupt your flow constantly for stupid button puzzles or breakable walls or whatever. An entire game made up of levels like Carnival Night Act 2 from Sonic 3. I don't mind Carnival Night Act 2 as a one off thing, but I don't need a whole game like that.

I generally try not to acknowledge Sonic Advance 3.

[artiststarme]

What If Steve Were To Leave Hawkins? Part 18

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Well, I don't really like this one but I want to get something out today! Only two more parts, it's bittersweet in a way. I did not think that the first fic I ever wrote would have so many parts or be over 70 pages on a google doc.

I'm already working on a few new fics though I don't know if I'll end up posting them. One is a Steve superpower fic and the other is an angsty one with Steve and Eddie leaving together. Would anyone be interested in reading those?

~*~*~*~

Steve was feeling good. While he had initially been nervous to see his family again after being ignored and leaving town, he recognized that he may have judged the situation too harshly. The entire Party, besides Erica who was still at summer camp, was sitting at one of the picnic tables set up in the Byers’ backyard. They were all laughing and catching up until Hopper cleared his throat and brought up the dreaded topic. 

“So, I know we’re all having a good time here but I think we should talk about what happened,” he said, immediately bringing everyone’s attention to Steve.

Steve chuckled nervously, “Um, I don’t think we do. Everything’s fine, we’ve all moved on.”

Steve didn’t need anyone else pointing out his flaws. He’s already been made aware that he misunderstood the situation and acted too hastily, he really didn’t want to talk about it again. And if there was one thing he hated above all else, it was seeing people become sad when they were supposed to be happy. He saw the kid’s smiles starting to fade at Hopper’s words and he desperately wanted to keep them there. “Besides, I’m back right now! Let’s focus on that. Where’s the ice cream?”

Hopper glared harder at his pseudo-son and gruffly muttered, “we are talking about it. You left without telling anyone, had us looking for you for months thinking we might find a body, and then you show up acting like nothing happened!”

He turned his angered gaze to Eddie sitting next to Steve, “And don’t think you’re off the hook either, Munson. You were talking to him for weeks without telling any of us. Then you disappeared too. I had to deal with Wheeler trying to push me into charging Steve with kidnapping.”

At that, both Steve and Eddie nearly gave themselves whiplash turning to look at Mike. “What the hell, bro?” Eddie was surprised and somewhat touched at his concern. 

Meanwhile, Steve felt the opposite. He was offended, he’d known this kid for years and he still hated him despite everything he’d done. The fucker was permanently on his shit list now. “What the fuck, Wheeler? You little shit!” 

Hopper cleared his throat once again to drag their offended expressions away from the scowling teen. “Language! You both should know better than to disappear without telling anyone, especially with what we all have gone through. So what happened?”

Steve looked at Eddie. Eddie looked at Steve. Everyone else looked at them looking at each other. Steve sighed and tried to explain in a way that wouldn’t expose his vulnerability. “I didn’t think anyone would care if I left. My dad kicked me out and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. None of you had talked to me in weeks at that point so I just started driving. I ended up in Chicago and now I really like it there.”

Everyone around the table looked slightly horrified. They had all played a part in his departure, they knew. But they didn’t consider how distant and unreachable they had made themselves. 

“Kid, why didn’t you come here? Joyce and I told you that you could stay here whenever you needed to. Why didn’t you come to us?” Hopper asked, his gruff voice strained and congested. 

Steve just shook his head, his fingers twisting Eddie’s in search of comfort. “I didn’t want to bother you guys. You already have three kids, I didn’t want you to have to take me in because of pity.”

“So instead you went off on your own like a dumbass?” Max said. 

He glanced at her, “I’ve been alone my entire life so yeah, it wasn’t that bad. I found a job and an apartment. I’m happy now.”

“Why didn’t you reach out to anyone, Steve? We were really worried about you,” Joyce added. 

“Everyone seemed to be going about their normal lives when I called. I didn’t think you guys really noticed that I was gone and I didn’t want to bother you. I really don’t want to talk about it,” Steve said, frowning and making moves to make himself appear smaller. 

Eddie, sensing his boyfriend’s inner turmoil, placed a comforting hand on his knee, an action hidden from view of the others at the table. Steve shot him a manically desperate but appreciative close-lipped smile. His eyes begged Eddie to do something to draw the attention away from him. 

And Eddie would always do what he could to help his boyfriend. Without hesitation, he blurted, “Steve and I are dating!”

With that, Steve’s self-inflicted disappearance was forgotten. The reactions ranging throughout the group were extreme. Hopper had the most dramatic spit take of his life and spit his iced tea all over El and Mike that sat opposite him at the table. El looked confused at the situation before leveling her father with a glare for drenching her new shirt in iced tea and spit. Mike was glowering at Steve looking absolutely disgusted. Will and Joyce had small, surprised smiles on their faces. Nancy and Johnathan’s jaws dropped in surprise, staring at the two in the utmost shock. Lucas and Dustin similarly looked shocked like they had expected anything else. Max was blankly looking at them like she already knew. Robin was looking at Steve nervously, anxiously awaiting his reaction. And Steve? He was looking at Eddie in horrified shock. So that wasn’t the distraction that he was gunning for then. 

Mike, unsurprisingly, collected his wits most quickly. “Are you fucking kidding me?! First my sister and now my Dungeon Master? Do you have no fucking shame, Steve?”

His indignation brought Steve out of his shock quickly, defensiveness overtaking his initial horror. “Okay, watch your fucking mouth, Wheeler. This has literally nothing to do with you. Nothing! I don’t know why you’re always so invested in my love life but it’s weird, dude. Stop.”

Mike sputtered and seemingly could not find anything justifiable to say in response. Robin jumped in then, face still aflame in a heavy blush. She said, “Well I support you and I am happy that you are happy! Right, guys?”

She turned to the others that were still recovering from their shock. They all nodded except for Hopper. His blank expression made Steve anxious, even more so when he got up from his seat and moved towards him. 

“Hop, I just… I’m sorry… I just-”

He was silenced when Hopper pulled him into a bear hug. “I’ll always support you kid, even when you’re interested in the likes of Munson here. I might not understand it but I accept it.”

Steve hugged him back with tears in eyes, “Thanks, Hop.”

They both pulled away after another moment and Hopper went back to his seat next to Joyce. The whole table was up in arms debating on whether they had seen this coming (Max, Lucas, and Will said they had; Dustin, Mike, and El definitely did not). Steve just smiled at the chaos that was his family and pulled a blushing Eddie up by the shirt collar before tugging him close. Steve looked into Eddie’s eyes and whispered against his lips, “you’re such a dipshit.”

Eddie smiles and runs his tongue along his lower lip, “yeah, but I’m your dipshit.”

Steve barked a laugh in response before giving him the grossest, messiest kiss he could manage. Even with the disgusted outcries from the Party and the berries being thrown at them courtesy of Robin, kissing Eddie and being surrounded by family had Steve feeling happy and complete.

Part 19 Part 20: Epilogue

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