#I’ll help. I reckon we could take him in a fight

[nowshesdoingitallthetime]

NO WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!!??!!? UNDO!?!?!!!!!!!!!!! MATTY IS A DEAD MAN

IM FUCKING YELLING IM SO?!?? THEY FUCKING PLAYED UNDO I CANNOT

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Golden Walkway

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader (Reader is a teacher in Jackson, has long hair.) Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: It’s your birthday, Joel takes you out to the Tipsy Bison, kisses (and does more to) you in the rain, and takes you home to give you a gift (it's sex, the gift is sex). Also, the thought of Joel spitting whiskey in someone's mouth happened and I had to write it out. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Warnings: smut, drinking, consent first, degradation second, followed by so much praise, hair pulling, spitting, Joel calls you a slut, fingering against a brick wall, F receiving oral, I watched that doggy style Narcos gif (for research) a lot, unprotected p in v, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), Joel’s canon age, Reader’s in her 30’s. Words: 4,300 A/N: Hi! Welcome to my first published fic. I'm currently working on a grander scale fic with these two, I hope to have the first chapter out within the next couple of weeks. I just really wanted to get this out there! Thanks for reading and a big thank you to @ohheypedrito for all of her help and also to our phones for not overheating when I send 40 texts at once with ideas for fics. Hope you enjoy, can't even blame the feralness of this on the full moon.

Edit: I posted the Masterlist for Elks, my work these two are included in.

***

“Was turning 21 as fun as they’d show in movies back then?” You’re cuddled in next to Joel on his couch sketching in your notebook while Joel reads a book about Native Americans that you found him. You always do this, a random question or thought to break the comfortable silence.   

“Not for me, bought a 12 pack of Bud Light and split it on my porch with Tommy. Sarah was only a toddler then and I had work in the morning. Didn’t have the money or the time to go to a bar. ‘Course I don’t think a lotta people did anything the way they’d show in the movies.”

“I always wanted to have my 21st birthday at a bar, ya’ know? Wait until the clock strikes midnight and order a weird named shot.”

“Well, I reckon we could do that at the Bison tomorrow night. Might not be your 21st but I’ll get you whatever you want to drink, and the best part is you can drink before midnight.” Joel pulls you in closer and kisses your forehead, “What do you say, let me take you out for your birthday sweetheart.”

“Yes, please,” you sigh into his shoulder, “sounds amazing.”

“Wear that little blue dress I know you have hanging in your closet.”

The drinks flowing through you making you downright giddy, alcohol making you bolder, your body and your inhibitions becoming looser, your hands becoming addicted to touching Joel, first his leg, then his thigh, now his lower stomach, right at his waistband. You haven’t been this tipsy in a long time, your face feeling flushed and red more from your desire than any drink you’ve had tonight.

“You better knock that off before I take you outside in the rain and fuck you against the building, darling,” Joel huffs into your ear. His fiery warning massaging your neck causing your heart rate cooled by your inebriation to pick up. 

“Sooo, keep going?” You slur back. 

“If that’s what you really want,” Joel puts a forceful squeeze on your upper thigh, a layer of your dress laying between his skin and your skin. If you weren’t both sitting at the bar, and maybe in one of the more darker corners of the saloon you’d surely hike your skirt up and let him learn just how bad you want him.

It feels so good to let go with him, to giggle openly at his jokes, stare at his profile as he talks with a friend or two who stop by to say hello, or place your hand on his broad back just because you want to touch his soft blue denim shirt. 

You watch as his tongue darts out and licks the leftover whiskey off his top lip, Joel’s movements becoming a little slower thanks to the amber liquid he’s been drinking all night. Some droplets glisten on his mustache, you fight every urge inside yourself to not lean over and lick them up. 

“It’s what I want,” you respond as you move your hand back and forth across his waistband.

“Jesus Christ, I’m about ready to throw you over my shoulder and run home,” Joel says as he takes your hand into his and pulls it away.

“Not so fast. You told me you’d fuck me in the rain, that’s what I want for my birthday,” you whisper into his ear with a breathy giggle.

“Can’t fuck you out here in public. Small town ‘n all, but I’ll make you feel good,” Joel takes a last swig of his drink, puts the glass down and knocks his fist on the bar to let the bartender know you two are leaving. He leans forward and drawls into your ear, “Now finish your drink if you want me to show you just how happy of a birthday I can give you.” 

You nod and gulp your drink down. You’re so wet, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on before. Joel grabs your arm with the perfect amount of pressure, you’ve never been so happy to get outside into the pouring rain. 

——

It’s absolutely storming outside, your footsteps sloshing in the puddles on the ground. The rain pelting your’s and Joel’s bodies as you walk through late night Jackson. It feels like you’re the only two people in the whole town as you make your way farther away from the bar. The bulbs of the string lights reflecting off the water gathering on the sidewalks making your path towards Joel’s house golden. You don’t rush, the two of you not scared away by the downpour, the drops cooling your burning skin. Joel turns down the street before his, pulling you behind one of the storage buildings, it’s darker back here, practically pitch black thanks to the rain clouds blocking the moon and the nearest light source being three buildings down. You’re pushed up against the brick, Joel’s hand gently cradling your head to block it from hitting the wall, he’s such a gentleman. 

“Happy birthday baby, I need you to tell me you want this, ‘n you’re okay with this, I have plans for you and I need you to tell me you want it.” Joel instructs you, all you can see is his eyes and the faint lines of his facial hair, the rest of him camouflaged by the darkness surrounding the two of you. 

“I want it, more than anything. Please,” your voice straining as you beg. 

“Tell me you want me to have my way with you,” Joel speaks into your slack mouth as he rubs his arched nose against yours. 

“I want you to have your way with me,” you moan against his wet shirt, “so bad.”

“Good girl, now, m’not gonna fuck you here, because I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop and I need to have you in my bed tonight.” Joel starts to move his hand down your body lifting the hem of your dress. “But, you are going to cum for me right here.” Joel captures your mouth with his. His hand starts to trace the outline of your panties, you mew out a cry as his fingers slip through and begin to pet you right where you ache the most. His hands are so big, his fingers so long and thick, always putting the right amount of pressure, moving the way you need him to move. Joel Miller is a capable man, everyone knows that, but nobody, except for you, knows just how capable he is. 

Joel sticks a finger in you, though his finger is thick and feels so good, you need more to fill you. 

“Another,” you instruct in between fevered kisses. Your pussy clenches as Joel pushes another finger in you. “Yessss,” you moan out against his lips.

“That’s my good girl, gotta get you stretched out f’me.” Joel begins to kiss his way down your chin and neck stopping at your chest, your hard nipples jutting through your wet dress. Joel takes one into his mouth, sucking the fabric and your tit deeper into his mouth. The sloppy wet sounds of Joel’s suctions making you want him more.

“Another finger,” you shudder out. “Three? You really want it tonight, don’t you?” Joel mumbles against your chest as he sticks a third finger in. It burns, it burns in the best way. You’re ready for him, it’s what you’ve been waiting for all night. You bite down on your lip as your legs begin to shake, Joel can tell you’re right on the edge and twists his fingers inside of you as he finger fucks you harder. 

Your orgasm bursts forward your whole body going stiff as you try not to wail out into the night.

“That’s iiiiiit baby,” Joel pulls his fingers out of you and softly pets your pussy from hole to clit.

He removes his hand from between your legs bringing it up between the two of you resting his finger tips against your lips, you open your mouth and begin to lick. His tongue meeting yours as you both clean his thick digits covered in you. He takes his hand away leaving just your mouths to taste each other. His kiss turns tender, your kiss turns desperate.

Joel pulls away resting his forehead against yours. “My beautiful birthday girl. Let’s get you home, my gift’s not done.”

——

Your body practically chills with the promise of what is left to come. Joel grabs your hand and you take it depending on him to lead you to his home. Every step you take you feel your wet core heavy with lust, you’re soaked from the rain and from Joel, if you could drown like this, you would go down with the sinking ship. His house comes into view, your body tingling in anticipation at the site as the both of you speed your footsteps up in perfect agreement. 

He throws open the gate, you’re following so close you almost trip on his heels making your way up the walkway and steps. He fumbles for his keys and unlocks the doors, you take the opportunity to run your hands all over his back and sides, rubbing the wet cloth of his shirt as it molds to his body. The door swings open and you both shuffle into his living room gasps escaping your mouths, both out of breath from your dash home and your mutual want for each other. You step out of your wet shoes and shake your hair out. 

“Take your dress off, right now.” Joel huffs out as he tosses his keys on the console table and begins to kick his boots off. 

You strip yourself of your baby blue frock as fast as you can. You’ve never had a reason to wear such a revealing piece of clothing. You don’t know why you held onto it, let alone grabbing it from the communal clothing rack, never thinking anything, or anyone, would be worthy enough for you to dress up for. Joel’s worthy, so worthy. 

“Feel like I’m a little underdressed here…” your words grab Joel’s attention as he moves his hands up to his chest to begin to unbutton his denim shirt. He gets one button taken care of before he rips it open. Shame, it’s your favorite shirt, you'll have to fix it for him later. You watch as a button rolls underneath a table, before you can note where it lands, your attention turns back to Joel to find him stepping out of his jeans and underwear leaving him completely naked. 

What a sight, what a fucking sight. There’s only a lamp on in the room, Joel’s body being cast in amber color and shadow, one side of him on full display glowing in the light, the other more difficult to discern. He moves forward stalking you. “Now I’m the underdressed one here. Take them off for me,” he says as he moves to pick up a bottle of whiskey from his shelf. 

You follow his instructions shucking your underwear down your legs and leaving them pooled at your feet. 

“Good girl,” Joel says as he begins to walk towards you unscrewing the lid off the bottle. He stands in front of you and takes a drink. “Open your mouth,” he orders as he grabs your hair and tips your head back. He takes another pull from the bottle, this time he raises his mouth over your mouth and begins to dribble drips of whiskey down from his mouth into yours. A moan raises from your throat, causing Joel to tighten his hold on your hair and arch your head back even more. He spits the rest of the whiskey straight into your mouth, you happily swallow his spit and liquor down. He unwinds his hands from your hair, takes another drink and kisses you, the whiskey and his tongue spilling into your mouth. Joel pulls back and takes his last swig before resting the bottle on the table. “Get upstairs.”

You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life, tripping over your feet as you rush your way up, Joel’s naked form hunting you like prey up each step.

The sight of Joel’s bed brings a new wave of goosebumps to your skin. 

“Bend over on the bed darlin,” Joel turns on a lamp in the corner and pulls it closer. “Need to lick and fuck you with my tongue.” 

You move over to Joel’s side of the bed and bend forward, your ass sitting high in the air and your face in the sheets, you inhale the smell of Joel on his sheets. You swing your hips in giddy anticipation of what’s about to happen. 

You feel his body lean over yours, his erection laying over your lumbar. “Okay baby, once again, need you to tell me you’re good with me having my way with your body,” he tempts into your ear. 

“Fuck, y—yes, fuck, of course I am good. So good.”

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s heavy body lifting off of yours as he kneels between your legs. You feel his hot breaths on you where you’re aching for him the most, you widen your stance egging him on to touch you. “Look at you,” Joel licks your thigh, “so fuckin’ wet you’ve spilled out into your thighs.” 

You scream a pleasured yell as Joel’s teeth bite down into the flesh of your thigh and sucks your skin into his mouth. The pain is perfect. He loosens his bite, kissing and licking the spot, the sensation making your body quiver. 

“Okay baby?”

“Y-y-yessss,” you answer.

“Whaddo you need sweetheart?” 

“Lick me,” you beg out, “please.”

“‘Course. Where do you want me to lick you?” Joel questions as he nuzzles his head against your ass cheek, giving it a small bite.

“My pussy. Pleeeaaase,” you’d say you sound pathetic but you couldn’t care less, your lust overshadowing any type of pride.

“Mm, you sound so needy baby, you sound like you really need my tongue on you, huh?” His teasing drawl drives you crazy, your body won’t stop moving, absolutely radiating tensity from your want.

“Please,” you implore, sobbing out. 

“Alright baby,” his hands grab your cheeks and spreads them, widening his view of you. “Prettiest thing I ever seen, love your pussy.”

This act feels so depraved, everything on display for him, legs and cheeks spread wide, your pussy exhibited for him like it’s an art piece.

You literally scream into the bed, biting down on Joel’s comforter as his tongue finally meets your core. This, thiiiiiiis is what you’ve been wanting all night. Joel moans against you, not being able to hold himself back as he tastes you, his fevered licks exploring your cunt, his large tongue mapping every inch of you. He’s absolutely conquering you, the noises of his lips and tongue smacking against your wetness soundtracking his journey. 

He can feel you getting close your hips beginning to cant as your orgasm begins to crest. You knew it wouldn’t take long, between the alcohol buzz and Joel’s tongue lapping up your wetness and cum from earlier, you knew you’d be a goner. 

“Mmf, cum for me,” Joel speaks against you, his mouth full of you, too busy to pull away to clearly speak. You don’t think he can get any closer to you, his tongue working your orgasm up in intensity with each swirl and dash against your clit. You feel it, it’s here. Your legs instantly collapse, thankful that the rest of your body is resting on the bed. Your eyes tightly squeeze shut and then begin to rapidly blink as your orgasm shatters through you. Joel flattens his tongue against your clit as it pulses. You’re too turned on to make a noise, Joel stepping in for you and groaning as your juices seep out of you. 

“Did so good baby,” Joel says leaving one last kiss on your clit before standing up behind you. You want to flip over to look at him, you haven’t seen his face since you laid down on the bed. You have no energy, you’re just a shell of a woman, the only sensations you can feel is the pool of wetness in between your legs and your light inebriation.

Your attention gets pulled to the sound of Joel spitting in his hand, followed by a hiss coming out of his mouth. When you realize exactly what he’s doing, you summon the strength needed to turn over. You flip over, your back thudding on the mattress your legs still spread wide, feet resting on the floor. And there…. there…. THERE he is, standing in the middle of his room, one large hand wrapped around his hard cock softly stroking as he watches you with hooded eyes. You know you just came, but the sight makes your pussy clench with desire. 

Joel jerks himself off as his eyes roam your exhausted form. “Been thinking ‘bout this all day. You all laid out in front of me heaving for air after cummin’ all over my tongue,” slow strokes matching his lazing words. “Just about canceled our night out when you opened your door in that little blue dress, looked like you were wearing the sky, baby.” 

You bite your lip as all of your senses are so overtly overwhelmed by lust. The sight of Joel’s handsome face watching you, the hazel flecks in his eyes twinkling in the golden light of the lamp. The smell of the rain on your skin mixed with the heady scent of your arousal and Joel’s sheets. The taste of Joel’s whiskey tongue still in your mouth. The sound of Joel’s fist pumping along his hard cock. The feel of the aftershocks of your orgasm still quaking your body. It’s so fucking much, you need Joel inside you. The thought of feeling him stretch you causes a whimper.

“Yeah baby? Havin’ a hard time over there?” Joel stops stroking his hard length, his hand pauses on his shaft. “You want me to fuck you now?” 

“Pleeeease,” you keen out. 

“Alright sweetheart.” Joel confidently strides over to you, dick still in hand. He stops right at the edge of your feet. “Turn back around ’n get on all fours in the middle of the bed f’me.” 

You follow his instructions eager to please. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can feel Joel enter you. 

“Good girl,” he praises as the mattress dips lower with his weight behind you.

Your heart is pounding so loud, your whole body thrumming, you gulp down a breath of air trying to calm your need. You feel Joel’s cock brush against your ass cheek, he’s so close to fucking you.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you real good and hard now. Happy birthday baby.”

And just like that, Joel buries his cock inside of you, you’re absolutely stretched around him. Your clit already worked over by Joel’s tongue, now your hole deliciously stinging while it flutters around his cock. He begins thrusting, tender and slow full strokes. Entering and exiting, swirling the head of his cock right at the entrance before plunging back in because he knows you love the feeling. Joel’s groans and your cries join in song as he begins to pound faster, the sound of your bodies slapping together match the rhythm. 

“Feel so fucking good, always so perfect for me. S’a good girl, always take it so good,” Joel grits out. 

He grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist as he pounds into you. “No one knows how fucking slutty you get for me behind these walls. They think you’re one of those innocent little teachers.” Joel pulls your hair harder causing a scream of ecstasy from you. “You love this, don’t you?”

You do. It’s so rough, so different from how gentle he always is with you. It feels like a luxury to be treated this way by him. 

“Y-y-y-yes, God I love it,” you whimper.

“That’s right. That’s what I like to hear. So pretty so smart. So much smarter than me, now I’m makin’ you stupid with my cock, right baby?” 

Everybody knows Joel Miller as the strong, silent type, a man of few words, somebody who doesn’t do chit chat. But with you in his bed naked and wailing as he slams into you, Joel Miller won’t shut up.

“Doin’ so good for me. So pretty, so perfect f’me. So wet for me.”   

“You made me so wet earlier, I was afraid I was going to leave a mark on the barstool.” Your words coming out as tortured weeps, so lost in your ecstasy you struggle with every word spoken. 

“Fuuuuuck.” That got him good. He pounds you even harder, the bed frame shaking violently against his wall, your body and cunt acting as if it’s the only barrier between Joel knocking a hole in the plaster. “Had I fuckin’ known I would have made you stick your face on that chair and made you lick yourself up as I fuck you against it.”

That’s it, that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. Joel’s deep timbered accent grunting those deviant words as he grabs you and begins to roll his hips into your cunt. Your body is strung so tight and rigid in all places besides your hips and core, pumping and rolling along with Joel’s as he fucks you. You’re close again, your panting breaths letting Joel know. 

“Baby, if you gotta cum, cum,” his grip on your hips pressure into you. 

“Going … going.. going to,” the only words you can say as your third orgasm radiates out of your body, your pussy is the epicenter, tingles firing through your veins, your hands fisting the blankets at your detonation. Slack jawed and fucked senseless you rally the strength to not disintegrate and fall into Joel’s bed. Your world has been shattered by Joel, but your body survives for him, your legs and arms shaking under gravity and your weight as they deal with the fallout. 

“C’mere baby, lemme help you.” Of course he can tell you’re struggling. He reaches his hands around, clutching your stomach and pulling you up against him. Your back up against his chest, his hand seeking out your breast, the other wrapping around your torso and clutching you to him. He holds you as he fucks into you, his nose brushing against your ear as he puffs and grunts against your neck. “Fucking. Love. You. So. Much.” Each word matching a thrust into you. Your hands find his and grip them, you’ve never felt more loved and protected. Joel Miller has got you.

You feel the familiar shudder in Joel’s movements as he edges close to his climax. His labored breaths getting louder and more fevered against your neck. You’re absolutely wrecked, but the angle of Joel’s cock inside of you mixed with the feeling of the shudder in his movements as he edges himself brings forth another orgasm. Words are gone, just sounds, whatever your throat can muster up and out of your mouth. 

“That’s it, that’s it, that’s it,” Joel repeats. His hands squeezing yours so tightly, his chest heaving against your back, his strong thighs straddling yours, his nose pressing into your ear. You feel his body tense as he pulls out. His release coating your pussy as his whole body surrounds you. Hot breaths huffing against the side of your face in between featherlight kisses. “Love you,” a whisper in your ear so delicate and sweet as he lets go of your hands. Your body falling forward without his support, your arms catching you before crashing down on the bed. Joel gets up with a groan as you lay yourself down on your stomach, taking the opportunity to stretch your legs out before rolling over on your side to watch Joel. He stands arms akimbo in the middle of the room. He’d look like a Greek statue if his shoulders weren’t rising and falling rapidly as he catches his breath. He’s gorgeous and he looks just as wrecked as you feel. 

“Probably shouldn’t have gotten up as quick as I did,” he chuckles. “Damn well feel like I’m standing in the middle of a earthquake.” You love the casual banter he puts forth seconds after being deep inside you, his cum still covering your core. This is love. 

You smile at him, your cheek resting on your hand as a makeshift pillow. You’re exhausted… the whole night and your four orgasms catching up with you. Eyes feeling heavy, matching your limbs you begin to drift off. 

A wet sensation in between your legs jerks you awake. “Sorry baby, just want to clean you up,” a whisper just as light as Joel’s tender attention as he washes you lulls you back to sleep. 

——

“Baby,” Joel’s low voice gently wakes you up along with a soft kiss to your forehead.

You groan as you stretch your sore muscles under the sheet, opening your eyes to find Joel gazing down lovingly at you. He’s backlit by the filtered morning sunlight shining in through his bedroom windows. What a way to wake up. “Happy birthday sweetheart, I’d let you sleep all day but I need to give you my present.” His face is so bright and cheerful, a boost in your confidence provided by just how happy he looks when he’s with you. 

“Thought you gave me your present already last night,” you yawn. 

“Sweet girl, that was a present for both of us. Now come on, get up.” You grab his offered hand and reluctantly get out of bed. Joel wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, his hands splayed across your back as you nuzzle your face in his warm chest. “Happy birthday.”

A/N: THANK YOU for reading my first ever fic. My inbox is always open. :)

[justagalwhowrites]

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 6: Justice

A friend visits as Joel reckons with his feelings. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 5 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 8.3k

A/N: Please be aware that we see Joel's suicide attempt at the start of this chapter and really get into his headspace just after Sarah dies. It's rough. If you aren't feeling up for it, jump to the second italicized date in this chapter.

Take care of yourselves! Love you!

Fic Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

October 5, 2019 

The decision had been an easy one. 

Almost shamefully so, really. 

It had been surreal, watching the casket that held his daughter’s body be lowered into the ground. He’d half expected it to be raining even though the forecast didn’t call for it. It just didn’t make sense for the sun to be shining the day he buried his child. 

Everyone he’d ever met was there, it seemed. All of Sarah’s classmates, too. So many people came to pay their respects for his baby girl. Like it made a damn difference now. So many people he had to thank for their sorrow, so many people who said they wanted to help but couldn’t because how could you help something like this? 

He decided before the first shovelful of dirt was on her casket. It was a relief, in a way. It was all finite. This pain that had all but devoured him in the last week was going to end and he was never going to have to wake up in a world without his daughter again. 

“Sure you’ll be alright?” Tommy asked, hands awkwardly stuffed in his pockets as he hovered in Joel’s entryway, the one button down shirt he owned already open at the collar, tie loosened. 

“Yeah,” Joel said. It wasn’t even a lie. He would be alright. Soon, he’d be alright. 

“I can stay,” Tommy said. “I’ll just go by my place, get a few things…” 

“Don’t need to,” Joel said. 

“Joel.” 

“Go home, Tommy.” 

His brother watched him for a moment, jaw clenched, eyes going over his face again and again. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid if I leave you here alone,” Tommy said, his eyes stuck on Joel’s. 

“Not gonna do anything stupid,” Joel said. That wasn’t a lie, either. It wasn’t stupid, it was the only smart thing he could fucking do. 

Tommy watched him for another moment. 

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?” 

That, however, would be a lie. Joel clenched his jaw. 

“Joel,” Tommy said. “I will see you tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah,” Joel said. “You know where to find me.” 

“Alright,” Tommy said, hesitantly, before pulling Joel in for a hug, clapping him on the back. “I know it… it’s awful, man. It is. But you’ll get through it.” 

“Yeah,” Joel said. 

“I love you, brother,” Tommy said, holding him close for a second. 

For the first time since he’d decided, Joel felt a twinge in his chest. Something akin to fear or regret or apology, something that made it feel like leaving his baby brother was the wrong thing to do. He just didn’t really care.

“Love you, too,” Joel said, voice thick. 

He watched the front door for a minute after Tommy left, his hands in his pockets in his oddly silent house. 

He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whisky, staring at the mug Sarah had left by the sink the last day she was alive. He couldn’t bring himself to clean or even move it and it was going moldy, rot already claiming the parts of her that were still here. He drank the whisky. 

Joel considered writing a note but decided not to. What else was there to say? Every word he had died with her. And it wasn’t like there was anyone to fight over what little he had to his name. Just a small life insurance policy that may not even pay out and the equity he had in the house he’d bought so his daughter had roots. Tommy could handle it. He’d proven, over the last week, that he was more capable than Joel had given him credit for. 

He went to Sarah’s room. It was still in a state of teenaged disarray - he hadn’t been able to do anything about that, either - with a diorama she was building for her history class on her desk and her comforter shoved down toward the foot of her bed. She kicked it off in her sleep, she always got warm in her sleep. She was cold now. 

Joel took it all in, committing it to memory. He looked at all the posters - the pop star in the middle of a dance move and the movie star staring out at nothing - and ran his fingers over the spines of the books. He even picked up the teddy bear on her dresser, small and pink with worn fur. He ran his thumb over the bear’s face, remembered tucking it next to his daughter when she was a newborn. Tommy had brought it for her when he came to the hospital to meet his niece for the first time. 

“Figured, it’s pink,” he’d said then. “Girls like pink.” 

“Don’t think she’s old enough to like anything yet,” Joel said, not looking at his brother, too busy watching the tiny bundle that was now his whole world. 

“She will,” Tommy said. “Once she figures it out. She’ll be the best little girl in the whole world.” 

Tommy was right on both counts. She had loved pink. She had been the best little girl in the whole world. 

He couldn’t handle being there very long. The room was already starting to smell different, less like Sarah herself and more like her body spray and hair serums and detergent. She was already fading from the place that had been hers and he couldn’t bear to know the world was moving on without her. 

When it felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, he left, closing the door softly behind him, going over the space again and again in his mind. He went to his room, to the gun safe in his nightstand drawer. 

Joel didn’t really like guns. But he wanted to have it, it felt smart, what with just him and his daughter in the house. He needed to have a way to protect her if he needed to because, when it came down to it, that was his purpose. He was supposed to protect his daughter. Protect her, raise her, teach her to be smart and sweet and strong, watch her grow to become something so much better than him. But he’d failed at that. The gun only had one use now. 

Joel had considered this part carefully, going over options in his mind while people told him how sorry they were that the only thing that mattered in the world was gone. 

Tommy would be the one to find him, he reasoned. No one else had keys, no one else would care enough to come looking. He wanted to be surrounded by Sarah but he couldn’t bring himself to do it in her room, it seemed wrong to have violence touch her space. He’d considered the entryway but that seemed cruel, a shock like that for Tommy when he first opened the door. Outside by the pool would be too loud, some nosy neighbor calling the cops and with that was a risk - maybe a small one but a risk all the same - of someone getting there fast enough to save him and he didn’t want that. His bedroom would be comforting but getting blood out of the carpet… he wanted Tommy to be able to sell the house, set himself up for some success in life. So, he’d decided on his bathroom. Easy to clean up, plenty of walls between him and the neighbors, away from the sacred space that still belonged to Sarah. 

That’s where he stood, in the shower he’d tiled years ago over a long weekend. Sarah had been about eight, she’d wanted to help. He’d smear on the adhesive and she would pass him a tile and he’d put it in its place and they would do it all again, her never seeming bored with it. She was perfectly content to be next to him, listening to classic rock on the radio, making something with her dad. 

The gun was weighty in his hand but that was a comfort. There was nothing left here for him. He was done, ready to move on to whatever there was beyond this life - if anything at all. He didn’t much care if there was. All he wanted was an end to this pain, this suffocating agony that had consumed his entire being since he’d lost his daughter. All he wanted was to go with her into the cold ground. That’s where he belonged, next to her. He’d let them put her under alone, let her go ahead of him into that dark earth. It wasn’t right. He was going to fix it. 

He took a deep breath, oddly aware of his lungs, the beat of his heart. It wasn’t racing the way he thought it might be. In his final moments, he was calm. Sure. 

He pressed the gun to his temple and closed his eyes. He pictured Sarah. He pictured her laughing and smiling, he pictured the pleading look on her face the last morning of her life. He pictured how happy she’d been when he’d told her she could go to the party, when he’d unknowingly sent her to her death. 

“I’m coming, baby girl,” he said quietly. “See you soon.” 

He took one final breath and pulled the trigger. 

There was a moment, one that had to be only a fraction of a second but seemed to last a small lifetime, that he saw everything. Every moment of his life with his daughter - her first steps, her beaming on Christmas morning, her riding her first bike, her rolling her eyes when they were in a fight - and every moment with his brother, his own father, the guys on his crew at work. All these moments that made up a life, all these things that made it seem like continuing on was somehow worth it. 

He flinched. 

November, 2024 

It wasn’t the guy. 

In the week since you and Joel had returned from California, he’d been off duty. Or, at least, at home and answering questions for police and Tommy as the authorities investigated whether or not the man who’d hurt you was your stalker. 

He wasn’t. 

When the police started investigating, they quickly discovered that he was new to Los Angeles. He’d been in another state entirely on days your stalker had clearly seen you. The man - Joseph Wilson - was just another rabid fan, one who took his adoration of you a step too far at the premier. 

He’d bailed himself out but had to stay in Los Angeles, the police keeping tabs on him so he was controlled but that didn’t make Joel feel much better. He knew how little the cops actually did in situations like this. The guy may not be able to board a plane but he could just jump in a car and get on the road - something he was clearly obsessive enough to do - and be in Texas in a matter of days. With how often the police checked in, they may not even get any advanced warning, either. 

Mostly, it made Joel uneasy. You were still under threat. Worse, he was away from you while you were under threat. He couldn’t keep you safe from his house across town, he had to sit there and rely on Seth to do the job.

But there was a part of him that was relieved, too. You still being under threat meant that there was still a use for him. He had a reason to be next to you and Ellie, to move through the world with you and make sure you were both safe. You clearly needed someone to do that job, stalker or no, and just the passing thought of you with nothing between you and the violent things that seemed to be drawn to you in some way turned his stomach. He was happy to not need to reckon with disentangling himself from you yet - even if that meant it would be harder when the time came. 

Still, he wondered if you’d told Tommy about the incident with the watch. His brother had insisted that he take the full week, even after Joel pushed to come back early when the police confirmed that Wilson wasn’t who’d been sending you the letters. 

“It’s better if it’s me,” Joel said, standing in Tommy’s office with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I know the job best now and…” 

“And we need you sharp,” Tommy said, barely glancing up from his computer. “Can’t have you working yourself into the ground. Take the week, rest up, come back refreshed and ready.” 

He hoped you hadn’t said anything. He’d deserve it if you had, he wasn’t proud of the way he’d behaved that day in your driveway. 

But he was already trying to get some distance, desperate for things to be somehow easier when he had to leave, his whole body already tense when thinking about anything - anything at all - happening to you and you handed him that watch. That fucking watch, the one that sat open in the red box on his nightstand, the one you’d given him as a gesture of kindness that he wasn’t due. It glared at him, the intact face shining in the lamplight as the cracked one lay next to it before he went to sleep. 

The other watch had been a gift from Sarah - Father’s Day when she was 12. She’d had an independent streak that year and did chores for the next door neighbors a few times to save up before asking her uncle to take her shopping for it. It wasn’t anything fancy - utilitarian and clean with a green fabric strap and a black face - but Joel had loved it. She’d been so proud of herself for buying it, she beamed every time he put it on. She’d even gotten it fixed for him a year before she died because he just hadn’t found the time to do it. He wore it every day. He’d worn it the day she died, the face cracking when he threw himself against the car window, desperate to break through the glass and get to her. Desperate to save her and failing, always failing. 

You gave him a watch to replace that one in much the same way you’d replaced the absence of feeling that had taken over his being when she died. 

That terrified him. He hadn’t even been aware of how numb he’d become, not really, not until he wasn’t anymore. The world was a cold and dark place, something that hurt too much to endure if he sat in it a little too long so he just didn’t. What was the point? He’d tried to fix it, tried to realize that his time was up - how could it not be, the reality of her loss being what it was - but he’d failed at that, too. Now, he was just biding his time. 

Or he was until you showed up. 

Things hurt again, scared him again. It all seemed too big to contend with. It reminded him, a little, of when he was a teenager, when he first started really waking up to life outside the nucleus of his mom and dad and little brother. The first time he fell in love with a girl, the first time he got passed over on the football team, the first time one of his friends stabbed him in the back. It had all seemed like the most important thing to have ever happened, the depth of feeling broad and new. 

Everything since you’d come into his life was like that. He was a professional, he’d dealt with aggressive people before but none of them scared him the way Wilson had. He’d tried to make a kid smile before but none the way he wanted to make Ellie smile. He’d wanted to fuck a woman before but none of them the way he wanted to fuck you.

What was he supposed to do with any of that? It all felt too volatile and dangerous, the threat lurking beneath it all far greater than it had ever been before. It made every decision he made feel strangely consequential, his body constantly tense and waiting for some unseen force to destroy you both. 

It was a feeling he couldn’t shake in his week away from you. One that was made worse by the fact that the fucking paparazzi had been told that you’d moved to Texas and were adopting Ellie. 

Joel got wind of it from Tommy only 10 minutes before the rest of the world did, just a phone call to tell him that the veil of protection you’d had here was now gone. 

“Nothin’ much we can really do about it,” Tommy said. Joel could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose through the phone. “They don’t got her address yet but they know Ellie’s school so we got a team setting up a perimeter there until this dies down, new pick up and drop off routine starting now…” 

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re sure you don’t want me to…” 

“Joel,” Tommy cut him off. “I know you’re bad at sitting on your hands for five minutes but you were on for weeks including an incident where your charge was injured. I can’t bring you back until you’ve actually gotten some rest, it ain’t safe. Just… I dunno, read a fucking book or something. You’ll be back to it in a few days, I’ll keep you updated otherwise.” 

Tommy sent Joel all the updates that morning, giving Joel a few hours to prep before he was set to go pick up Ellie and start his turn in the rotation of looking after you both again. 

There were changes, ones he was surprised you’d agreed to. No more grocery store runs, at least not while people were on high alert and looking for you and liable to follow you home. No more taking the same route every day to and from Ellie’s school. No more leaving the variable compound that was your home without good reason, every outing just another opportunity for someone to recognize you and tip off your stalker to your more precise location. 

Joel knew you’d hate these changes, the loss of the freedoms you’d clung to so hard here. There were notes in the file that they could be temporary adjustments, once things died down about your relocation and people weren’t watching for you anymore but he doubted that made much difference to you. The loss was still a loss. 

He went to pick up Ellie that afternoon, following the new procedure the school put into place to protect her and the other students, surrendering his ID to the rentacop guards at the gate to the school before he could pull into the drive to the front door. Ellie had to wait inside until he came to get her, something that he could tell she resented from the look on her face before he was even in the door. 

“Well would you look who it is,” she said, getting up and throwing her backpack over her shoulder. 

“You causin’ trouble?” Joel asked, brows raised. 

“No more than usual,” she said. 

“So, plenty?” Joel said. She gave him a look and he laughed a little. “Alright, kid, let’s go.” 

Joel kept a hand on her on the walk to the car and she flung her bag into the back seat of his truck as she climbed in front. 

“Should duck down,” he said, looking past the fence. There wasn’t a hoard of paparazzi, at least. “Just to be safe.” 

“So stupid,” she muttered but obeyed, doubling over in her seat until they were to the end of the street and looking back over her shoulder when she sat up again before settling in and looking Joel over. 

“What,” he asked glancing her way. 

“Nothin’,” she said. “Just haven’t seen you in a while. Think you have more wrinkles and shit.” 

Joel just scoffed. 

“And you haven’t gotten any taller,” he said. “Still a runt.” 

“Hey!” 

“What’ve you been up to, kiddo?” He asked, glancing over to her. 

“Oh, you know,” she shrugged. “School bullshit. Had to get trained on how to dodge the paparazzi by Seth and he can’t even win at COD so you left me in great hands here, Big Miller…”

“Glad to know the benchmark is a video game,” he said. “You seen any trouble from those photographer assholes?”  

“No,” she said and he could hear the roll of her eyes. “It’s all bullshit.” 

“The threat ain’t bullshit, kid,” Joel said, sterner than he meant to. “Wish it was.” 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Me too.” 

Ellie told him some of what she’d gotten up to in the weeks it’d been since he’d seen her, the good grades she’d gotten and the asshole kid she’d put in his place. Joel just nodded along, trying not to think about the fact that there was some part of him that loved being someone she could talk to freely and openly. 

It was a pleasant distraction from what he knew would be a shit conversation once he saw you again. He’d have to say something about the watch and everything he’d said when you gave it to him. He just didn’t know what. He was dreading that, dreading it enough that the fancy pickup truck parked at your gate was a relief for a moment because it meant he had a reprieve. Then, his instincts kicked in. 

“Stay put, get down,” Joel ordered Ellie, throwing the truck into park. “Don’t get out, you hear me?” 

He didn’t wait for a response, just jumping out, his gun drawn as he ran up alongside the other - far nicer, newer - truck. 

“No, you don’t understand,” a man with a thick drawl said, standing at the intercom at your gate with his hands on his hips and a Stetson on his head. “I’m a friend of… look, she home? Just go ask her if she…” 

“I’m not about to tell a strange man whether or not my employer is at home!” Esmo said through the intercom. “I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave, you’d better go before…” 

“Hands up!” Joel barked, gun up an pointed at the man. 

He jumped, turning to face Joel, his eyes wide as he obeyed. 

“Woah!” He said, looking Joel up and down, his hands still up. “Take it easy, I swear I ain’t…” 

“Not about to take orders from you,” Joel said, stepping closer, gun still trained on the man’s chest. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doin’ here?” 

“Could ask you the same damn thing,” he replied. “Can you put the damn gun down?” 

“I’m personal protection,” Joel said. “I’m doin’ my job which, right now, means keeping you on the business end of my gun. Keep your fuckin’ hands up, gonna check you over.” 

Joel stepped in closer, tightening the grip on the gun with one hand and using the other to quickly pat the man down. He didn’t have anything on him that Joel could find easily, just wallet, phone and keys to the King Ranch F-250 that didn’t seem like had seen a day of work in its young life. 

“Alright,” Joel said, stepping back and lowering the gun slowly but keeping it drawn. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here.” 

Before the man had a chance to answer, Joel heard a door slam and then Ellie was doing exactly what he told her not to do. 

Joel tried to correct for it, looking quickly back over his shoulder to see where she was coming from, trying to cover her, but she ignored that, too. 

“Get back in the damn truck!” He snapped at her but she just careened around him, running for the other man. Joel raised the gun again, getting ready to shoot a stranger who may not even deserve it, but Ellie got in the way. 

“Justice!” She shrieked, launching herself at the man and he caught her out of the air with a grunt, lowering his arms for the first time since Joel had pulled his gun. “I missed you! Where the fuck have you been?” 

“Hey kiddo!” He laughed, holding her off the ground so she was level with his face. “Missed you, too. I’ve been a little busy lately, doin’ that whole tour thing. The hell have you been up to? Given all these here Texans a run for their money?” 

“Duh,” she said and he set her down before hiking up his jeans. “What are you doing here?” 

“Came to see you, you little trouble maker,” he said. “And check on your aunt while I was here, I suppose…” 

“I guess,” Ellie said in a mockingly long-suffering way. 

“Think you can get uh…” he jerked his chin toward Joel, giving him a furtive glance. “Rambo there to put the gun away and convince the gal inside that I’m not some security threat?” 

“Sure,” she laughed, looking to Joel. “You can put the gun down, this is just Justice, he’s cool.” 

Joel clenched his jaw for a moment before putting his gun away and relaxing a little. The other man seemed to take it as permission to step forward, holding his hand toward Joel with a too perfect smile. 

“Justice James,” he said. “Good to meet you.” 

Joel realized then that he recognized this guy. He was some country music superstar, the kind that Joel felt like was ruining country music and would make Johnny Cash turn in his grave. 

He just grunted, going to the intercom. 

“Esmo,” he said. “Big Miller, at the gate. Trouble is secure.” 

There was a moment of silence before she responded. 

“Are you letting that strange man up here?” She asked. 

“He’s not that strange!” Ellie yelled and Joel gave her a look over his shoulder. “What? He’s not!” 

“Yeah,” Joel said. “It’s under control.” 

Joel keyed in the gate code and looked to Justice.

“Drive up but stick by your truck when you get up there,” he said. “Trouble, you’re with me.” 

“Come on, seriously?” Ellie stomped her foot. 

“Don’t wanna hear it, kid,” he replied. “My truck, move it.” 

“Fine,” she huffed before looking to Justice. “See you in a minute, apparently.” 

Justice just laughed. 

“See you in a sec, kiddo.” 

The man drove slow up to your front door, Joel following close behind, sorely temped to try to scratch the paint off the back of this ostentatious truck with his own, beat down Ford from the 80s just on principle. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he just parked right behind the hulking, shiny rig, Ellie jumping out immediately and Esmo stepping to the drive, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes narrowed. Ellie didn’t seem to notice, beelining for Justice again. 

“It’s been so crazy!” She was saying as Joel got close enough to hear her. “There were these photographers at my school and shit, like people think I’m famous now, it’s so weird but also kind of cool and…” 

“Ellie,” Esmo cut her off. “Inside.” 

“But,” she protested. 

“Now,” Esmo cut her off. “I’m certain Mr. Miller agrees with me.” 

“Inside, Ellie,” Joel said. 

She looked to Justice and he chuckled a little before nodding. 

“Head on in, kid,” he said. “See you in a few.” 

The three of them watched Ellie go inside, Esmo moving to block the door, her eyes narrowing at the newcomer. He tipped his hat to her almost comically. 

“Ma’am,” he said. “Guessin’ you’re the one who was reading me the riot act over the intercom.” 

“I’m not going to just let a stranger into the house,” Esmo said, chin out. “Not after a man…” 

“Broke her wrist,” Justice nodded. “I know. Don’t blame you for bein’ protective. Appreciate it, honestly. But promise, I’m no threat. If she’s home…” 

“She’s not,” Esmo said. “But when she gets home, I’ll…” 

The sound of an engine interrupted her and Joel’s hand automatically went to his gun, ready to deal with whatever else was going to get thrown at him in his first hour back on the fucking job but it was just you, Seth at your back. 

“There a party no one told me about?” You asked, brows raised, barely looking at Joel. 

He didn’t respond, shifting to be between you and the unknown element that was Justice when the man turned to face you, an almost cocky smile on his face. 

“Hey shug,” he said and Joel watched as your face lit up in a way that made his stomach clench. 

“Justice!” You yelled in much the same way Ellie had and ran for him that way, too, more colliding with him than hugging him, making him stumble back as he laughed, his arms going around you and holding you tight. “What the hell are you doing here! Aren’t you supposed to be playing in Dallas tomorrow?” 

“Close enough,” he said, giving you a squeeze before stepping back from you. “Couldn’t come to Texas and not see my best girl now could I?” He took your injured arm in his hands and turned it gently. “How you feeling?” 

“Fine,” you waved him off with your uninjured arm. “It’s really not a big a deal as everyone is making it out to be…” 

“Someone broke your wrist, honey,” he said, running his thumb over your wrist. 

You shrugged.

“I’ve had worse.” 

He glared at you and you took your wrist back, still smiling all broad and warm and Joel didn’t like it, not one bit. 

“Want to see the new place?” You asked. “You’d approve of the set up, lots of room for horses and shit.” 

“Horses, eh?” He asked. “You actually got any, Hollywood?” 

You scoffed. 

“Like I would dream of buying livestock without your approval.” You looked past Joel like he wasn’t even there. “Esmo, would you mind showing Justice inside and getting him something to drink? I just need to grab my things, I’ll be in in a second.” 

“Of course ma’am,” she said, leading your friend inside as you turned without even a glance toward Joel, going back to your car. He and Seth followed and you grabbed a duffle from the trunk as Seth called headquarters. 

“This is Cook,” Seth said. “Transferring custody of Siren to Big Miller.” 

“Thanks for everything, Seth,” you smiled at him, reaching out and giving his arm a squeeze. “Tell your wife I say hi. And tell her thanks for letting us have you the last week.” 

“She likes having me out of her hair now and then,” he said with a wink before clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Have fun holding down the fort, see you in a few weeks.” 

You stood next to him and watched Seth leave before turning and heading inside without a word. Joel clenched his jaw and followed, trying to brace himself for the conversation that had been hanging over him for days. 

“Siren…” 

You turned to face him, brows raised. 

“Yes.” 

He took a deep breath. 

“I… I should…” 

“I don’t really care, Joel,” you cut him off. Your eyes flitted to his wrist, where the broken watch sat. “You made it perfectly clear. We are not friends. I pay you, you protect me. We don’t need to talk about it.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to respond, just going inside to find your friend. 

***

“And how is Adam doing?” You asked Justice, sitting next to him on your bed, safely behind closed doors. 

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” he said and you could almost hear him glaring at you. 

“I do want the answer!” You said, turning your head so you could actually see him. “Why wouldn’t I want the answer.” 

“Because you don’t like him,” he said, turning his head so he could look at you, too. “I know you don’t like him.” 

“When have I said I don’t like your boyfriend?” You asked, brows raised. 

“You don’t need to say it, I can tell,” he replied. “You forget I know you as well as I do and you don’t like him.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him a little and he looked back, smug. 

“I just think…” 

“Told you.” 

“Shut up!” You elbowed him lightly and he laughed. “I’m just looking out for you, OK? I’m not a fan of seeing you get your heart stomped on…” 

“That’s reassuring.” 

“…and this guy seems like the heart stomping type,” you continued. “That’s all I’m saying.” 

“Because you’re such a great judge of men all of a sudden?” He asked. 

“Well that’s just rude,” you said and you both laughed before you sighed. “I missed you.” 

He smiled. 

“I missed you, too.” 

You snuggled closer to him and he held you and you let yourself relax for the first time in what felt like forever. 

It shouldn’t have surprised you, Justice turning up when he did. Beyond Anna, he was the person you were closest to. The three of you had practically lived together for a while when you and Justice were just starting on Siren. 

You and Justice had hit it off immediately, becoming fast friends before even day one on set. You were both young, just 21, both loved acting and music. He was kind in a sweeter, more genuine way than you were used to with men, lacking all the undertones you’d come to expect from the opposite sex that any kindness was just a bill to be paid with your body. 

It didn’t take long to figure out why it was different. You were only halfway through season one when your characters acted on the sexual tension that had been building between them as rival recording artists, the two of you kissing passionately, Justice’s character - Trace - backing yours into the spongey walls of a recording studio and pulling her leg over his hip, rutting against her with no tell-tale sign of a hard on in his jeans. 

He had a funny look on his face when the director yelled cut, his eyes a little wide as they searched your face. 

“Are you OK?” You’d asked, laughing a little. 

“Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “Just… be in my trailer.” 

He left without another word as everyone else got reset to do another take. You sat in the chair with your name on the back, drinking a bottle of water and chewing spearmint gum so your breath wasn’t awful when you had to kiss your friend again. 

“Can we get set?” The director yelled after a while, sounding exasperated. “Please? Where the hell is Justice?” 

“Hold on,” you said, hopping down from your seat as you passed your water off to a production assistant. “I’ll get him, two minutes!” 

You jogged to his trailer, knocking quickly. 

“Yeah,” he called, his voice wet. 

“You alright?” You frowned. 

“Yeah, uh…” he sniffed, hard enough that you could hear it through the door. “Yeah, I’ll…” 

“I’m coming in,” you said, not giving him a chance to protest and just opening the door. 

You found him sitting on the floor, his elbows on his knees, head hung low. 

“Justice?” You asked, closing the door behind you and locking it before getting on the floor next to him. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” 

You put a hand on his back but he pulled away from you for a moment before he leaned into your touch, crying. You’d never really seen a man cry before - at least outside of work. You weren’t really sure what to do about it. 

“It’s OK,” you said after a moment. “Whatever it is… Did I do something? I know this is your first job and if I pushed too far in that scene, I’m sorry, I can…” 

“No,” he shook his head, sitting up and drying his eyes. “No it…” he laughed once, twisting a little to face you. “It ain’t that. You were good. Are good. That’s… that’s the problem.” 

You frowned. 

“I don’t…” 

“You kissed me,” he said, voice trailing off for a moment. “You kissed me and I didn’t feel anything.” 

You looked at him, waiting for the part that was supposed to be a problem. 

“OK?” You laughed eventually. “That’s fine! Great, actually, because - and no offense, you’re a good looking guy and all but - I have no interest in you like that and…” 

“No,” he shook his head, stretching his legs out on the floor in front of him and slumping back against the wall. He took a deep breath. “It’s not… I’ve never been interested in any woman. Ever. And I guess I… I thought… I thought I would, you know, eventually… I thought I was just a late bloomer or some shit and it would happen for me and if… if I could do a scene like that with you… You’re so beautiful and we’re friends but I still didn’t feel anything and… I thought I’d feel something. Anything. But I… I didn’t. I didn’t feel a goddamn thing and if I can’t feel somethin’ with you… I…” 

He got choked up again, looking at the ground. 

“Justice,” you said softly, reaching out and covering his hand with your own. 

“I think I’m gay,” he said, more to himself than to you.  

You just held him for a while. It took the two of you some time to get back to set so you texted a PA and said Justice wasn’t feeling well but you’d be back soon. You did a few more takes of the scene, sticking close to him when it ended, his fingers firmly laced with yours between every take. He came over to your house that night and the two of you talked for hours. He told you everything, how he’d always felt about boys the way he thought he was supposed to feel about girls, how he hoped that one day, he’d just meet the right girl and that it would all be OK, how he thought he’d surely feel something when kissing you on set that day. How his parents would never accept him. How he saw any hope he had for a career vanish before his eyes. 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” He asked once the pair of you were a few bottles of beer deep. 

“I dunno,” you said. “But I don’t think you need to figure it out right now.You can take your time. And I know we’ve only been friends a few months but whatever you need? I’m here for you, OK?” 

He looked at you, his green eyes soft and kind. 

“OK.” 

You were the only one who knew for a while. Then Anna, then a handful of others. When Justice hit it big in country music - just like he’d always dreamed - the two of you pretended to date for a while. You did again when you were worried about some parts of your personal history coming to light that you weren’t particularly proud of. And then, when Anna died, he stayed with you and Ellie for a few weeks, just helping both of you get adjusted to the way life was now. Of course he would just show up when things went sideways. It’s what you would do, if you were in his position. 

You’d given him the grand tour and he liked your house and the property you’d found in Texas, getting excited about the amount of real estate available for things like horses. Esmo warmed up to him fast after a prickly introduction and made fajitas and guacamole for everyone, the food smelling good enough that even Joel emerged from his room to eat. 

“Which guest room would you like me to make up for Mr. James before I leave?” Esmo asked during dinner. 

“Oh I don’t wanna put anybody out,” Justice said, waving her off. 

“It is no trouble,” Esmo assured him. 

“Well, ma’am, also mean to say, don’t think I’d use that room anyway,” Justice said, giving you a wink. “Would I, shug?” 

“You never have before,” you smirked a little at him and you caught a glimpse of Joel grinding his teeth as you looked back toward Esmo. “No point in pretending, he’ll just stay in my room. But thank you, Esmo, for the offer.” 

Joel stalked back to his room not long after and you, Ellie and Justice sat around the fire pit that had gone unused in your backyard, Justice teaching Ellie how to play guitar and you just finding a sense of peace and stability in their presence. 

“Think I can come stay for a while after my tour wraps up?” He asked Ellie as she tried to hide her yawns in the flickering firelight. “See if I can’t talk your aunt here into gettin’ some horses for this damn ranch?” 

“Fuck yeah!” Ellie said. “And we can play guitar and maybe next time you can bring me on tour, too, and…” 

“Alright, let’s plan your future as a superstar later,” you cut her off. “Time for bed, kiddo.” 

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically, going to hug Justice. “Good to see you.” 

“You too,” he gave her a squeeze and watched her head inside before the two of you put out the fire and went to your room where you could really, properly talk. 

He caught you up on his life - the tour, the stress of dating someone in secret, writing his next album - and asked you about yours. You sipped whisky and told him about the run in with Henry in LA and how the threat of the stalker had felt more real since the premier. He held your broken wrist in his large hand, an odd look on his face as he did. 

“Try not to go scarin’ me like that again, hear me?” He said, giving you your hand back. “I was in fuckin’ Australia, watching you get hurt on the news. Gonna put me in the ground early.” 

“Well if it bothers you then I guess I’ll avoid it in the future,” you teased, taking a sip of the liquor. He glared at you and you smiled a little. 

“Can I ask the awkward question?” He asked. 

“When has a question being awkward ever stopped you.” 

He ignored you. 

“What’s goin’ on with that bodyguard of yours,” he said. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, grip on the glass tightening. 

“Yes you do,” he said. “Seemed like I could cut the tension between you two with a fuckin’ knife. What happened there?” 

You sighed, turning the whisky glass in your fingers. 

What had happened there? 

You had no idea, honestly. It was like a switch you didn’t know was there had flipped in him. Things had been going well in LA. Disturbingly so, really, after the incident with Henry. Joel had seemed to actually give a shit, at least enough that he didn’t want you to die for something beyond professional reasons - not something you’d been convinced of before that. 

Sure, you’d fucked up getting drunk with Quinn but he’d seemed fine with it. Told you not to worry about it. And the way he’d saved you from the man in the crowd… 

When he’d taken your face in his hand, it felt like he cared. For the first time in so long, you felt protected. Not because he was paid to but because there was something he saw in you that was worth protecting. He’d held you on the drive to the hospital, seemed concerned about your wellbeing and then… nothing. 

You were almost thankful for the blowup in your driveway when you got home, the indifference crueler than any active distaste. Not that you understood what had pissed him off so much, not any more than you understood what made him so utterly uncaring to begin with. But at least him snarling at you and telling you exactly what he really thought cut you instead of leaving you floating in some vacuum that you had no right to be hurt by. Yelling at him had felt good, even if you’d cried when you went to bed that night, cradling your wrist to your chest as you remembered how he’d held you like he gave a shit. 

You knew, deep down, why it hurt as much as it did. Because, against your better judgement and all logic, you liked Joel. Watching him with Ellie damn near made you fall in love with the man but even without that, he felt safe in a way that men rarely did. You trusted him, you liked being close to him. You even appreciated how he’d worked with you to get better before you were going to start shooting Savage Starlight. You wanted him to like you, too. He just didn’t. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “He just… it seems like he hates me. I just don’t know why, I don’t know what I did to him, you know?” 

He frowned. 

“Hate’s a real strong word, shug.” 

“I know,” you said. “And it seemed like, maybe, we were in a good place for bit. I mean, when he first started, there was… I probably wasn’t the nicest.” 

“Really?” Justice made a skeptical face. “You’re always nice to people who work for you.” 

“Yeah,” you winced a little. “But I really didn’t want a body guard. And it’s not Joel’s fault he is one but I took it out on him. But then we kind of figured each other out a little - or it seemed like we did, anyway - and I thought… anyway, it was going well, I tried to do something nice and he made it perfectly clear how he sees me so… I guess it doesn’t matter.” 

“And you’re sure he doesn’t just wish he could fuck ya?” Justice smirked a little. 

You barked a laugh. 

“Pretty damn sure,” you said and then sighed. “At least this isn’t not permanent. Just until this whole stalker thing gets figured out.” 

“Well, he at least seems good at his job,” Justice said. “You need to let him do it. If not for you then for me’n Ellie. We need ya.” 

“I guess,” you rolled your eyes dramatically and he laughed. 

“You’re gonna get through this,” he said. “I know it’s been a shit year but you will.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed again and polished off your whisky. “Do you ever wish we hadn’t become famous? That the show flopped and we just faded to obscurity?” 

“You were famous long before we did that damn show,” he smiled a little. 

“Pedantic ass.” 

“But,” he ignored you. “Yeah, sometimes. Seems like shit would be a lot easier if I were an accountant who played music at some shit hole bar on the weekends and you were… I dunno, a theater teacher or something.” 

“Apparently we should have gone to college,” you said wryly. 

He snorted. 

“Guess so. You gonna be OK when I head to Dallas in the morning? I got sound check in the afternoon I gotta get back for.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “I have to train in the afternoon, anyway.” 

“Sorry I only came for a little bit,” he said. “Tour schedule’s kicking my ass.” 

You smiled a little. 

“I’m really glad you did.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled back. “Me, too.” 

The two of you got up early and you walked him to his truck, giving him a long hug goodbye and watching until you couldn’t see him anymore. You sighed and went back inside, only to find Joel standing there in his pajamas - shirt on, at least - his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Not tryin’ to take off on me are you?” He asked. 

“Perpetually,” you said. “Because all I think about is ways to make your life difficult.” 

You ducked around him and headed for your room but he stopped you. 

“Can I talk to you.” 

You sighed and turned back to face him, brows raised. 

“What,” you said. 

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes oddly soft for a moment before going cold and dark again. 

“We have to work together, you and me,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know I… made that harder, the other day…”

“You think?” 

“And I shouldn’t have,” he continued, ignoring you. “But I think it’s better if… if we keep our distance. Keep it professional.” 

You frowned, your eyebrows knitting together, heart thudding a little harder in your chest. 

“Professional,” you said. “When has it ever been anything but professional.” 

“Just…” he quirked his jaw and you could have sworn you could make out his hands forming fists in the pockets of his pajama pants. “Thought it should be said. Close quarters and all.” 

You watched him for a moment, trying to get a bead on him but you couldn’t read him, couldn’t tell what he wanted at all. You weren’t sure what you wanted, either. 

“Fine,” you said eventually. “Professional.” 

“Good,” he said, looking you up and down and, if you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn there was something like longing in his eyes. Your stomach clenched and his face hardened again. “Get me your itinerary for the week.” 

You had to stifle a smile at that. At least it was business as usual. You’d take that. 

“Sure, Big Miller.” 

He gave you a stiff nod before padding off to the kitchen and you tried not to wonder when it had been more than professional. 

Next Chapter

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[cait-with-luv]

ʜᴇᴀʟ ᴍᴇ, ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ.

❝All you wanted was to help your best friend get over his ex girlfriend. How did you manage to end up confessing your feelings?❞

Header Credit: Me

・❥ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

・❥ Genre: Best Friends To Lovers; Fluff; Humour; Smut; Angst (if you squint)

・❥ Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), NOT SAFE FOR RAMADAN

・❥ Word Count: 7.5K

・❥ Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption/intoxication, little fight between his ex and Y/N, Jungkook can be a bit senseless but can't we all?, sexual tension, heavy makeout, explicit consensual sex, dirty talk, pet names, oral (Female and Male receiving), dom!JK, sub!Reader, hair pulling, unprotected sex, mentions of birth control, spanking, praise kink, rough sex, marking (hickeys, biting)

Jungkook didn't know how he ended up here. He just remembers exiting his shared apartment in a fit of rage, anxiety, and hurt, wandering the streets of Seoul blindly, his mind racing with thoughts that he wanted to be rid of. So how he managed to end up at his best friend's apartment complex without realizing was baffling to him. It was almost like his heart knew who he needed right now. The one person who will sit and listen to him without interrupting or pretending to listen. The one person who would make him laugh when he needed to be cheered up. The person who undoubtedly cared for him no matter what bullshit they go through together or wouldn’t get annoyed at the dumb shit he says. That person was his best friend, the girl he grew up with. You.

He absolutely knew you'd tear him a new one for showing up at three in the morning without warning. You liked your sleep. No, loved your sleep, he always teases you about how you love it more than your own best friend. And now, he was about to disturb it. You were a force to be reckoned with when your beauty sleep is broken. The only time Jungkook will admit he's terrified of you.

He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding before raising his hand and knocking on your door a few times knowing it would take a few more to awaken you. He almost grimaces, almost, as he hears you stomping and your muffled yells of insults for the intrusion on your sleep. 

Incoming in 3, 2, 1-

“I swear to god whoever woke me at three in the morning, you are getting castrate- woah, you look like shit dude.”

“Well hello to you too, Bug,” Jungkook says sarcastically, stuffing his hands in his pockets, shaking his head to fix his bangs, and staring at you with tears in his eyes as he finally lets them out now that he was standing in front of his safe person. But somehow you always managed to make him laugh. You had never been good with people crying, it always amused him and right now it did too, watching the reaction you always seem to have. Sheer panic and awkwardness.

“Shi-no! Don’t you dare cry on me, dude! I can do anything but tears Jeon! In! Get in now! Sit and wipe them tears with a tissue, or a blanket I don’t care just get rid of them! I’ll get the wine!” You ramble in panic, grabbing his arm and practically yanking the poor heartbroken boy into your apartment, shutting the door before rushing to your kitchen to get said items. It was clear he could use a glass. Or five.

Jungkook sniffles and plops down onto your couch, swiping his tears with his shirt and letting out a little laugh as you shuffle into the living room with your arms filled with snacks and a wine bottle and glasses in your hand which he takes an effort to prevent you from smashing them, watching as you sit next to him and release all the snacks into both your laps.

“I will never understand how you are able to carry so much. I would have dropped it all before I even left the kitchen.” Jungkook mumbles, tilting his head as you scoff opening the wine and flicking the lid off, grabbing his glass.

“That’s because I’m a woman and over the many years of our existence we have evolved to have velociraptor hands to carry multiple things at once, now take your pick on snacks and tell me what’s caused you to show up at my door at this time of the night? What’s wrong, Honey Bun?” You pout as you hand him the drink and ruffle his hair playfully earning a whine and a glare from him.

“I told you to stop doing that.” He grumbles before plucking a bag of chips from your lap and opening them and sighing. He really didn’t know where to begin. Does he just rip the bandaid off or not? Eventually, he decided that yes, he just need to rip the bandaid off. He needed to come to terms with it too. 

“Hyun-Ae and I broke up.” He says dejectedly, munching on his chips, raising an eyebrow as you choke on your wine and look at him in disbelief, putting the glass down on the coffee table and turning your body to look at him fully.

“What?! Why? You two were literally on a date earlier!” You say in shock. You were confused, Jungkook had face timed you that morning talking about the date he planned for her. He had seemed so proud of himself and the big smile on his face talking about it had made your heart flutter. His smile always did but he didn’t have to know that.

“I know. It went so great too Y/N, we were happy but by the end of it, her mood had changed. I thought I did something wrong, she ignored me for the rest of the day until before when I got fed up and wanted to know what was wrong if I had messed up and she just blew up at me. She thought I was proposing and got mad that I didn’t. So you know I told her just because I didn’t propose doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to at all. I mean, Bug we hadn’t been together for a year yet.” He remarks and snags his wine off the table and takes a big gulp of it. 

You blink at him, in complete disbelief at what you were hearing. You didn’t know what to say but he wasn’t finished yet, there was more to this so you allowed him to carry on. To vent and get everything he needed off his chest. So you sat. You listened, nodding your head and humming in acknowledgment so he knew you were paying attention to every single word he uttered, taking his hand in yours when he holds his out wanting some comfort from you. By the time he had finished, you were annoyed at her, angry. And Jungkook? Well, he was now three bottles in and hiccuping, swaying slightly in his place. He was definitely gonna have a hangover tomorrow.

“So…basically, she got mad that you didn’t propose to her when you’ve only been together for what? Ten months? You told her one day in the future you would just not right now and she got even angrier and gaslit you saying that you didn’t love her and that she wasn’t good enough for you and asking if you were cheating on her? Then tried to get you to get on one knee right then and there to propose to show you loved her or it was over?” You sum up, carefully taking the glass out of his hand that he was beginning to lose grip on. That was enough alcohol for one night.

“Y-Yup! I-I told her I just wasn’t ready for that commitment y-you know? It didn’t mean I was n-never going to. I-It’s a big step in a r-relationship.” He hiccups, throwing himself back on the couch and pouting, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, I know that, Honey Bun. I know. It’s gonna be okay alright? There’s plenty of fish in the sea dude.” You sigh patting his leg that he had sprawled over your lap, raising an eyebrow as he lifts his head up and frowns.

“F-Fish? B-But I’m a human dumbass. I c-can’t date a fish. That’s fucked up.” He slurs, poking you. You slap his hand away and roll your eyes at him. He really did concern you sometimes. Drunk Jungkook was another level of senseless.

"Sometimes I wish I could IV some sense into your bloodstream. Seriously, you are so dense. It’s a figure of speech, not literal Jungkook." You grumble, pushing his head to lay back again, chuckling at the sound of realization he makes.

“Ahhh, I get it now.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Of course not. I think you should get some sleep Kook and then when you’re sober we’ll talk about it more tomorrow okay? I’ll go get you a blanket and a pillow.” You say softly, moving his legs to get up, an amused look on your face as he huffs and shakes his head.

"I’ll go home. I can stand..." Jungkook slurred drunkenly; attempting to lift himself up off the couch, a snicker leaving your lips at his poor attempt, shaking your head.

"No, you can't dumbass, lay down you can sleep here, I’m not carrying your heavy ass anywhere." You say with a small smile. And for once Jungkook doesn't disagree.

—

"Truly Amazing." 

"Thank you.”  

"Not that. I was referring to what an idiot you are." You scoff, crossing your arms and glaring at the sheepish-looking Jungkook as he grins at you and places his arm around your shoulder, which you nudge off and roll your eyes at him. 

"Ah, but Idiocy is the first step toward Genius!" He remarks proudly. You facepalm and sigh shaking your head. He was unbelievable. You two were completely opposite to each other when it came to common sense.

“Fuck sake, I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten” You grumble looking around, holding your phone up in hopes to get at least a single bar of signal. Jungkook had decided he wanted to take an early morning hike and dragged you along with him. Saying it was good for the body and mind. But being the cocky guy he is, he wanted to stray from the trail and go his own way. Saying he knew where he was going. How wrong he was. 

“Ouch, hurtful.” He pouts, tilting his head as he watches you stand on a rock, phone up in your stretched-out hand.

 “Good it was meant to hurt bitch now focus!” You hiss, groaning when you don’t get a single ounce of signal. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You knew you should have never left the comfort of your bed but Jungkook can be too convincing and stubborn. You would have ended up here no matter what. You were lost in the middle of nowhere. No way to contact anyone or use your maps. No sign of civilization.

"Sooo what's the plan?" Jungkook says sheepishly, inching closer to the rock you were on. He just had a gut feeling that your clumsy self would take a misstep on it and hurt yourself. So he stayed close. Just in case.

"I don't have a plan." You sigh, pocketing your phone and looking around once more before inevitably giving up. You were gonna find nothing. It was just trees for miles. You were both screwed.

"But you're the smart one here, you must have a plan." He says, grinning nervously as you snap your head over to look at him with a death stare, hands on your hips, foot tapping waiting for him to retract his statement but he didn’t. If looks could kill. He would most certainly be dead. 

"Being the 'smart one' does not mean I come with a lifetime supply of plans in my fucking pocket Jeon! You got us into this situation, you figure this one out!" You sneer before sighing and rubbing your temples. You hadn’t meant to snap, you were stressed. The one thing you hated was not being in control of a situation and being lost with no idea where to go was definitely stress-inducing. 

“I know, I know I’m sorry, just get down before you hurt yourself and we’ll figure this out together okay?” He sighs and holds his hand out for you to take, staring up at you in awe. He had always thought you were pretty, but stood on the rock, the breeze following through your hair, the early morning sunlight that reflected off the trees, perfectly onto your face, highlighting your features, eyes shining, the pout on your lips. You looked ethereal.  

“Fine, yeah okay.” You murmur reaching down for his hand eyes widening as you slip on a ridge of the rock, squeezing your eyes shut waiting for the impact of the hard leave-covered floor, but it never came. All you felt was a warm body, the subtle scent of lavender and chamomile. A scent you recognize as Jungkook. You slowly open your eyes and blink realizing that you were wrapped up in Jungkook’s arms. He had caught you before you could fall. 

“I got you, I got you. Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He asks worriedly as he places you down,  checking you over, his chest practically pressed against yours, pausing as you carefully push him away to create some distance, your cheeks burning as you shake your head, holding your breath. Having him so close made your heart race. You could feel breath fanning over your face.

“I-I’m fine, I’m not hurt. Thanks, Kook.” You whisper, nervously playing with your hands as he sighs in relief and waves you off, oblivious to your nervous reaction to him. 

“You’re welcome. Just be careful, Bug, you could have seriously hurt yourself. We gotta find our way back in one piece right?” He smiles, holding your hand beginning to walk in a direction. You had to at least try and find your way back right? You’d get nowhere just in one spot.

“Yeah yeah I know. I’m a danger to myself.”  You huff making him laugh and shake his head.

“Damn right you are, what’d you do without me?” He grins and you look at him with an amused look. A look that told him you were about to make a smart remark.

“I wouldn’t be lost in the middle of nowhere that’s for sure. Why did you want to go a hike anyway?” You tease, stepping over a log, watching your every step. You did not want to fall. Not again. He’d never let you live it down. He always reminded you of how clumsy you were, he did not need another reason in one day to remind you.

“I wanted to clear my head, think about the break-up and try and see the full picture you know? See if there was something I genuinely did do wrong. You know maybe I should have just proposed? I know it’s been a few weeks but it just plays on my mind sometimes.” He says shrugging his shoulders, hissing as you smack the back of his head, a glare on your face.

“Fool. You did nothing wrong. You listened to her. Explained why you didn’t want to propose yet and she didn’t like that. She tried to force you Jungkook. Something you weren’t ready for and she didn’t take no for an answer. Why should you have to sacrifice your happiness and feelings for something she wanted right then and there and you didn’t? You never said it wasn’t on the table just that it wasn’t something you personally were ready for at that period of time. You both wanted different things and unfortunately, that’s what happens to a lot of people. Yeah, it’s been a few weeks but that doesn’t mean you still can’t feel shit about it Kook. People all heal differently.” You reassure him as he nods slowly. You were right. He couldn’t force himself to do something he wasn’t ready for. A commitment that honestly, kind of terrified him. 

“I just thought I could have done something different, but yeah you’re right, I couldn’t put myself in that situation. I would have really regretted it. I couldn’t have compromised with her. This is why I brought you with me because you always know what to say.” He smiles, pulling you into a side hug as you strolled through the unleveled terrain. 

“You know, I thought you’d be a lot harsher about her when I told you about the break-up but you have surprised me. You hated the girl from the minute you met her.” Jungkook chuckles, whining as you poke his side, rolling your eyes.

“I never said I hate her just that I wasn’t keen on her, but I wasn’t gonna be bitch when you were clearly upset. I wasn’t gonna go ‘I told you so’ and invalidate your emotions and feelings, Kook. Yes, I told you I wasn’t keen on her and that there was something about her that I just couldn’t put my finger on. I wasn’t gonna go ‘Don’t date her, I don’t like her.’ I told you that if you’re gonna date her and be serious about it that you just be careful and that you are really sure and happy. I wasn’t gonna try and ruin your happiness because of a feeling I had on her. Your happiness was all that mattered to me.” You explain looking up at him and pouting at the look on his face. You couldn’t tell what it was but it looked sincere. A look you wanted him to have every time he looked at you.

But what you didn’t know was he did look at you with that same look a lot. Awe, care, hope. Love. It was love. Jungkook loved you. More than you could ever imagine. You weren’t just his best friend. You were someone he wanted to call his. Someone he imagined himself with. Someone he definitely wanted to grow old with. Jungkook can’t pinpoint when he started feeling this way for you. But it was definitely sometime in high school. It hurt him every time he’d see you with another guy. The dates you went on but failed. The boyfriends. It all practically killed him. 

But he was scared to confess. Scared to ruin your friendship. So he buried them. Tried to forget them and date others but it never felt right. Until he met Hyun-Ae. For a short period of time, she had made him ‘forget’ his feelings for you. But they came back in a blink of an eye when she broke up with him. The night you let him into your apartment and listened to him and validated his emotions. Like right now, you didn’t like Hyun-Ae but just wanted him to be happy so accepted it. ‘Your happiness was all that mattered to me’. Yeah, he was utterly and undoubtedly in love with you and he’d never stop loving you. 

But he didn’t know that you loved him unconditionally too. That it also hurt you to see him with other girls that weren’t you, that you were scared to confess to and ruin your friendship. The both of you were so oblivious to your feelings for each other that it was so painful for your friends to watch. But they weren’t going to interfere. If you were going to end up together, it’d happen naturally they told each other. That was four years ago.

“Thanks, Bug. That really does mean a lot. Sorry for bringing you on a hike gone wrong. We should have done something else. Like let loose, we haven’t done that in a while. Other than when I showed up at your apartment but that doesn’t count, I was a mess.” Jungkook laughs, kicking a pebble in his way, jumping as you gasp and stop in your place.

“Oh hey, we made it back out! How’d you know to go this way?” You say enthusiastically bouncing your heels as you realize you had made your way back onto the trail, turning to look at Jungkook, your grin dropping seeing the amused smirk on his face. Oh no.

“What if…I told you that maybe I knew we weren’t lost and I just wanted to prank you?”

“Jeon Jungkook I swear to fucking god I’m gonna kill you!”

In reality, he had no idea where he was going or how he navigated his way back but you didn’t have to know that. He loved to tease you.

—

"Why are we here again?" 

"Because you said we needed to let loose the other day, why else would we be here?" 

"When I said to let loose I meant in the comforts of our own homes. Not a random club that will end up with us kicked out like usual. We established we do not mix well with other people." Jungkook huffs rolling his eyes before downing the drink he cradled in his hands. 

"Well shit dude, how was I supposed to know that? When you say let loose I'm gonna assume you mean in a club. Use specifics next time dumbass." You scoff, flicking his forehead earning a hiss from him, and glare at you, rubbing his forehead, grumbling under his breath.

He was right though, since college you two couldn't be trusted to be in a club without supervision from your friends. The pair of you were partners in crime. It didn't matter what the situation was, you'd always be there for each other. When it came to clubs you'd either be kicked out from dancing on tables or from getting in a fight. It didn't matter, it always happened. It was only a matter of time until you were kicked out. 

"Wanna bet on the reason we end up kicked out this time?" Jungkook says in amusement, waving the bartender over to order another drink.

You raise an eyebrow before grinning and shrugging. It really could be anything at this point. 

"Hmm, I think it's gonna be a fight. I'm feeling...violent tonight. You gonna have my back?" You tease taking a sip of your drink as he shakes his head. 

"You know I always have your back Bug, you're my ride or die." He affirms, patting your bare shoulder before ordering you both another drink. You shudder from the contact of his warm slender hand on your shoulder, placing a hand on your racing heart, taking a deep breath. You hated how he had this effect on you, he was your best friend. You couldn't have him. You'd never have him. He didn't see you how you saw him. Well, so you thought. 

"Ditto, Honey Bun, ditto." 

"Here, now let's go find somewhere to sit in this god-forsaken place." He groans, handing you your drink before wrapping his arm around your shoulders to keep you close as he pushes through the waves of bodies to find a seat until he finally finds one and plops down. 

"We're so boring. What happened to us two little party animals?" You laugh, nodding your head to the music. Jungkook practically snorts, shaking his head, 

"We grew up and got bored of the partying." 

You sit in a comforting silence, dancing along to the music and continuing to down drinks to the point where you both could feel the slight buzz of intoxication, confidence, and mischief. You were both beginning to enjoy yourselves, that was until your reason to get kicked out waltzed in. Hyun-Ae was unashamedly hanging off a clearly well-off man's arm, rolling your eyes and nudging Jungkook, shamelessly pointing behind him. 

"Hey Kook, looks like your ex moved on pretty quick for someone pressuring you to marry them." You sneer, letting out a laugh of disbelief. You really despised the woman. She used Jungkook purely for her own leisure, she didn't deserve him, he was a gentleman, caring, loyal. You hate how she broke his heart. 

Jungkook peers over before looking back at you and shrugs nonchalantly a teasing smile on his face. With the alcohol in his system, he felt like he had the courage of ten men. If he didn't do this now, he never would. He couldn’t carry on and pretend his feelings aren’t there. Like they’d just suddenly disappear.

"Yeah well so have I." He smirks, leaning back in his seat and taking a swig of his drink. You tilt your head in confusion. Your heart sank a little. You hadn't been told that he was interested in someone else. You really needed to get over your feelings for him. You had no chance with him. You were just best friends after all. All you were doing was hurting yourself.

"Oh really? You got proof of that, Honey Bun?" You tease trying to keep your composure, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand, playfully wiggling your eyebrows. He snorts and places his drink down before leaning forward too, licking his lips to wet them, tilting his head, a smug smile on his face before blurting out, 

"Well, the proof...would ruin our friendship." 

Your breath hitches, your cheeks flushing as you begin to get flustered, your heart racing as you look down to the table to break eye contact with him. He couldn't be insinuating what you thought right? Maybe you were misunderstanding? Right?

He chuckles, a smirk playing on his lips, he could see the doubt and the inner monologue you were practically having as he gently grabs your chin and lifts your head up to look at him and coos, 

"We don't want to ruin it now do we, pretty girl?"

Your heart was racing. Your lips were parted, the words you wanted to say on the tip of your tongue but couldn’t see to vocalize them. You had waited what felt like an eternity for this moment. A moment you had fanaticized for the longest time. But back then they were dreams and this was reality. This was really happening. It was like music to your ears. A rush of adrenaline. You weren’t going to let this moment slip through your fingers. You may never get another chance to do this.

“What if I want to ruin our friendship? What if I want to be more than just your best friend?” You whisper, breath hitching as he tugs your chair closer to him, your hands shaking as you place one on his cheek, closing your eyes as he nudges his nose against yours, foreheads pressed against each other.

“Yeah? You want to be my girl?” He breathes out, lips grazing against yours, his own heart pounding in anticipation. He wanted to so badly claim you as his own. Be able to tell everyone that you were his girl, no one else's. He so badly wanted to feel your lips against his. To have your body against his. 

“She’s watching Kook.” You murmur, peering over his shoulder when you got the feeling of someone staring. Her jaw was clenched, and her eyes narrowed as she eyed you both angrily. You could see her fists were clenched beside her. She wasn’t impressed.

“So? Let her watch pretty girl, let's give her a show. Let her know who I belong to now.” He smirks and without a moment of hesitation, his lips were against yours. It was nothing like you had imagined it would be. It was even better. It was euphoric. His lips were soft, his lip ring cold in contrast to his warmth. In that kiss was the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. It was bruising, and dizzying. A small moan left your lips as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before letting it go with a pop, a teasing smirk on his swollen lips, you were sure yours were too. The both of you panting, arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, almost shaking with excitement, you knew where this was going, and you had never wanted it more. He opens his mouth to speak but a figure towering over you halts his actions, the both of you looking up and sighing seeing the very irritated Hyun-Ae. Yeah, this was it, you were about to get kicked out.

“Ah Hyun-Ae what an unpleasant surprise, how can we help you on this fine night?” You smile fakely leaning back in your seat in amusement waiting to hear her spew nonsense.

“So this is who you downgraded to? You skanky ‘best friend’, I always knew she wanted to get her grubby hands on you.” She seethes crossing her arms. Jungkook rolls his eyes, now he can see why you disliked her.

“I’m too sober for this bullshit…” You mumble to yourself, her voice practically causing you a headache.

“I think I got an upgrade thank you very much. She’s far more of a better person than you.” Jungkook snarks, glaring at his ex-girlfriend.

“I see you had downgrade though, you know for a bitch wanting to force him to marry her, you sure have moved on quickly, very materialistic aren’t you? Going for the rich guys, I think all you want is the lavish life, the money, not the love and comfort.” You say in amusement, a harsh grin on your lips as she gasps and retracts slightly at your insult.

“Why you vile, piece of-”

“Woah woah, I'm sensing…some hostility. Maybe you should take up meditation?” You say sweetly only angering the woman more and bringing you more entertainment.

“I could never stand you!” She exclaims making you laugh and stand up so you were level with her, tilting your head at her,

“Then sit down no one asked you to stand. You know, if there was a prize for having the world's most punchable face, I'm sure you'd win." You sneer, watching as she raises her hand to slap you but it never reaches you, thanks to Jungkook’s quick reflexes grabbing her wrist.

“I think that’s enough. Hyun-Ae leave us alone. We’re over. You don’t get to criticize me for who I date when you are seeing some stuck-up, self-absorbed man. I mean look, he doesn’t even care that you’ve wandered off. Hope you become a better person. Now excuse us, we have something much more fun to do.” Jungkook huffs, letting go of her wrist before tugging you out of the club. He needed to get out of here.

“How do you always end up with the psychos?” You laugh as you both climb into a cab, a noise of surprise leaving your lips as he pulls you close to him, a playful smile on his lips,

“Are you insinuating that you’re psycho too pretty girl?”

“I never denied it, Honey Bun. You should know that I can be a bit psycho by now.” You tease and press your lips onto his, his tongue swirling with yours, hand in your hair to keep you close. As soon as you reached your apartment things got intense. In a split second his touch awakened every nerve in your body and brain, electrifying them. It's the anticipation of being together in a way that's more than words, in a way that's so completely tangible. You both barely make it to the bedroom, hands trying to touch every bit of each others body, clothes being thrown all over the floor, the only things left on your body was your bra and pants and Jungkook in his boxers. Jungkook pulls away from the kiss to admire you, eyes filled with love and lust.

In the room that is twilight and shadow Jungkook stands close enough for you to breathe in his scent. His arms wrap around your back and in one gentle pull your skin touches. You feel his hand in your hair, how he loves the softness, watching it tumble as he releases it. Then his hand moves down your cheekbones to your lips. That's when the kissing starts again and you start to move like partners in a dance that is written in your DNA. Your bodies fit together as if you were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm. With a laugh he lifts you right off your feet, carrying you towards the bed, letting you fall with a soft bounce on the mattress. You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another. Then he's all business, undoing your jeans, pulling them off, kissing from your toes upward, slowly, his hands on your legs, always just a little higher than the kisses. You feel your back arch in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. Your head rocks back against the pillow as he does, the first moan escaping your lips. 

But as quick as it happened his fingers were gone, a teasing smile on his face, “You think I’d give you everything you want so quickly? No way baby, you need to use your big girl words. Talk to me.” 

“Jungkook you cannot be serious, I do not do teasing, you better do something quick.” You groan, glaring at his laugh before flipping the two of you over so that you were on top.

“Shit, pretty girl,” he hisses as you roll your hips, grinding your core against his. He can feel how wet you are through where your cunt drags against his underwear soaking them. You were burning from arousal and anticipation, gasping as he flips you back over.

“I want to taste you. Can I?” 

The question makes your legs shiver and you nod. He nudges your legs open with his knee, hands pressing into the mattress beside your shoulder and head locking you in under his form. He leans down and kisses you with the same urgency he had in the cab. Your head swims with excitement and you can feel yourself growing more wet as you feel his toned stomach press to yours. A moan pushes its way out of you and into his mouth as you feel his nipples graze yours. 

“Fuck.” 

He smirks into the kiss before he breaks it and then he’s kissing your cheek, jaw, neck, clavicle, between your breasts and then your nipple is in his mouth and you arch into it as his tongue swirls and his lips encase and tug. 

“Jungkook —” you moan. 

He looks up at you, his bangs obscuring his vision but he does nothing except continue his way down your body. His hands following. You’ve never felt so safe, so secure, and so sexy under a man before. Then suddenly he’s standing again, his hands on your thighs and he tugs you down with a force that surprises you. Your eyes wide meet his, equally as wide and dark. He smiles and shakes his head, looking down at your legs. 

“What?” you ask and he looks back up at you. 

“You’re just fucking beautiful.” he rasps, taking in every inch of your body as if he’d forget what it looked like. 

“Kiss me?”

He nods but instead of crawling back up your body to meet your lips, he bends down and kisses your stomach.You close your eyes and slip your hand into his hair and tugging. He moans against your skin and your breath hitches.Your hips twitch as he kisses your hipbone and then licks your skin, biting and marking it, he wanted to claim you, paint you in arrays of purple and red bruised flowers. You lift yourself up and watch him as he shifts down, his hand sliding down following the movement of your thigh.

“Oh fuck” you breathe out surprised as you feel his index finger slip down your clit and between your folds. 

“You’re going to taste so good, I just know it,” he says as he gathers some of your arousal on his finger and then looks up at you and licks. His eyes roll back and close as he moans deep,

“Fuck, I knew it.”

You watch him go again but this time you feel his finger press into you, you gasp, hips moving. He leans in and presses the tip of his nose to your clit and licks, lapping up your arousal like a starved man. Your wanton moan fills the room and your hands tighten around his hair instinctively needing to keep him there and to stay there. His tongue works along with his finger for a few moments and then his finger is gone only to be replaced by his tongue. Pushing into you, penetrating you and you practically go limp, a choked moan leaving your mouth as his thumb returns and applies pressure to your clit. You could have came right then and there.

“Jungkook if you don’t stop I’m gonna come.” You pant and he pulls away your arousal glistening on his lips, shuddering as he licks his lips not wanting to waste a single drop of your slick. Leaning back the bulge in his underwear evident of his painful boner. You kneel on your shaking legs, keeping your eyes locked on his as you press wet kisses to his stomach moving lower and lower, his breath getting heavy, his hands gently caressing your skin, your fingers playing with the waistband of his boxers before tugging them down his length springing free, he kicks them off and you stare in awe before starting your teasing, wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing lightly.

“Pretty girl, don’t fucking tease, you’ll get a punishment for it.” He husked, glaring at the playful smile on your face.

“Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end is it baby?” You coo, hand moving off his length, a growl leaving his mouth, placing a hand in your hair opening his mouth to talk but a choked moan leaves his mouth as you swipe your tongue across his head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum.

You wrap your lips around him and take him until he hits your throat, looking up at him through your lashes, then you come up and pause, just holding him in your mouth, your tongue running back and forth across the underside. Jungkook grunts and his eyelids flutter closed.

“Pretty girl, oh fuck…” He groans, strangled, panting and head rocking back, his adams apple bobbing in his throat.

“Mm?” you hum, not taking him from your mouth, and you notice the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenches as you trail sloppy, wet kisses down the length of his hot, smooth cock.  You run your tongue flat across his balls as your hand continues to pump his shaft and he moans,

“Doing such a good job my pretty girl, fuck your mouth is incredible babygirl.”

You hollow your cheeks and suck, your hand and mouth moving as one, eager to impress him more, the praises causing your arousal to drip. Jungkook’s hand in your hair is tight, not directing you, just to have something to hold on to. As you push lower, tipping your head to take him into your throat, he jerks, his abdomen tightening euporhically, close to his release. This was quickest he’s ever needed to cum before from a blowjob.

“Y/N, Y/N stop, our first time is not gonna have me, cumming in your mouth, I wanna be inside you, fuck do you have condoms?” He rasps as he gently pulls you away, groaning as you shake your head.

“No I have the coil and I’m clean you?” You pant, lips swollen and red, leaning your face into his touch as he strokes your cheek, nodding and gulping. Fuck he doesn’t think he’s going to last long going in raw.

“Fuck, yeah, yeah I am, shit baby, I might not last long.” He grunts, softly pushing you back, grinning as you squeal when he flips you over, pulling your ass up and running his hand over your cheek before a smack echoes in the room and a stinging sensation is spreading over your ass, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips.

“Such a perfect ass, wanna mark it all up with my handprint but we can do that another day, right now I need to be inside you before I die.” He groans, aligning his length with your entrance, Your whole body shuddering as he presses into you for the first time. You both moan low and Jungkook pauses at the bottom to regain his composure. It was like you were made for each other, the way your bodies moulded together perfectly. You were addicted already.

He drags himself backwards before thrusting in again. Your walls are spasming already; you’re so tight and he’s stretching you just right, filling you up like you’ve not been filled before. You were wrecked for any other man, not that you wanted anyone else.

“Oh fuck Kookie, feels so fucking good, don’t stop.” You babble, a complete mess as he picks gains rhythm, picking up his pace and ruthlessly pounding into you, your fists tight in the sheets, your head dropping muffling your moans, gasping as one of his hands grabs your hair and pulls you up, growling,

“Don’t you fucking dare hide those pretty moans. I wanna hear every single one. I want everyone to know who’s making you feel this good, who you belong to, do you understand pretty girl?” 

“Yes! Yes I understand! Jungkook fuck!” You practically scream out, eyes rolling back, the pleasure so intense, your body felt like it was on fire. 

He watches closely as he pushes into the tight, wet slip of your core, watching himself disappear into you with each thrust, moans leaving his throat. You loved how vocal he was. It excited you more, your pride soaring that you were able to make him feel good too. You really do feel drunk, giddy, hysterical. You feel tears prick in your eyes at the relief of it, the pressure, the pleasure. 

“Shit, I can’t wait to fill you up, stuff you fucking full. Can you take it, baby?” He rasps 

“I can take it,” you reply, voice high and tight. 

“Give it to me, Kookie- fuck.” 

He grabs the hair at the back of your head again and pulls it back, your back pressed to his chest as he fucks up into you, keeping your neck so he can kiss you, lick you, bite you there, moaning against your skin as you whimper and stutter, a silent scream leaving your lips as he reaches deeper into you from the new position,

“Kookie, shit, please. I need you to fuck me forever. God, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” 

“Never,” he grunts. “Shit, won’t stop. I’m yours baby.”

Jungkook is so rough you loved it, his grip on your waist painfully tight that you knew it would leave marks.You felt so sensitive, you’re at an almost constant spasm around him; your limbs tingling from adrenaline. Jungkook sucks at that one spot on your neck that makes you melt and you swear, voice wavering and breaking. He knew you were close and so was he, his stomach so tight, desperate for his release, but he wouldn’t come. Not yet. He needed to make sure you came first. Your pleasure came first to him.

“You gonna come pretty girl? I want you to come all over me, be a good girl and come.” He coos darkly into your ear, his hand slipping between your legs, his pace never faltering. His touch is gentle, but it’s enough to have your vision burning white, your blood roaring, your ears ringing as you come. You hold him tight, your hand digging into his hair as you splutter and pant, your head laying back on his shoulder, feeling his chest vibrate from his husky groans and growls as he comes too, fucking you both through your orgasms, filling you up with his cum. 

The room is filled with your pants and heavy breathing as you both come down from your orgasm, nothing but gentle touches shared between you both to keep you both grounded, a gasp leaving you both as Jungkook gently slips out of you and guiding you to lay down before flopping down next to you and pulling you into his arms.

“You still with me, Bug?” Jungkook chuckles tiredly, seeing the fucked out look in your eyes, stroking hair back from your face and peppering kisses to your face moving his hand to stroke up and down your spine.

“Mhmm, still here, just regrouping, Honey Bun.” You whisper, a tired smile on your face. You were in sheer bliss, pure happiness. You finally got the guy. A man you loved so dearly for years. 

“That’s good. You did so good pretty girl. Such a good girl for me. I love you.” He utters, nuzzling his nose against yours, grinning as you pout your lips for a kiss, giggling as he presses multiple pecks onto them.

“I love you too. That was everything and more than I could have ever imagined.” You sigh, nuzzling your head into his chest, a yawn leaving your lips as he kisses the top of your head.

“That’s good to hear. I’m so glad I get to call you mine finally, I’ve loved you for so long. I couldn’t hide it no more.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, I’ve loved you since fucking high school. It was killing me.” You laugh, stopping when he tenses and sits up causing you to sit up as well.

“Wait…you’ve loved me since high school?” He says in shock, cursing at himself as you nod slowly and frown.

“Yeah why? What’s wrong with that?” You say hesitantly, slightly amused as he groans and face palms. Yeah you two really were that oblivious.

“I’ve loved you since high school too…” He muffles out and your eyes widen in realization. You felt like an idiot. He felt like an idiot. 

“Wait so that means-”

“Yeah we could have been together a long time ago if we weren’t so dumb.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

Guys I'm so sorry for how late this is, I am a dumbass and totally forgot to switch from draft to post so I thought I had posted this ages ago, I'm so dumb so I sincerely apologize for making you guys wait and I hope you guys enjoyed 😅♥

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[angelofsmalldeaath]

in the woods somewhere — a.h.b.

cw: being sick, fevers

“go away, you’re not supposed to be in here,” i groan from under the mountain of blankets, struggling to fully breathe. 

the room is somehow boiling hot and freezing cold at the same time. i take a peek and his frowning face, and shut my eyes again. 

“you were calling my name,” his voice floats in on the breeze, garbled as if i’m under water and he’s trying to reach me. “you sounded quite weak and pathetic if i’m being honest—”

“oi!”

“—scared me a bit.”

i sigh into the pillow and grimace when a sweat-soaked tissue touches my nose. i shouldn’t be this disgusted by it. every inch of my skin feels the same—sweat-soaked and grimy and icky. 

a moment later, a cold hand touches my forehead. then i hear a wince. 

“oh, you’re not doing so well are you?”

“miserable. but you should go. i’ll be just fine—” and then, just to drive home the point, my body breaks into a coughing fit. 

the cold hand moves to my back, stroking down my spine until i can finally catch a breath, get some air in my lungs. it burns, of course. it burns like i’ve swallowed the river styx. 

“quit being so stubborn, will you? don’t make me wrestle you into being a good patient.”

“oooh kinky,” i tease, my voice hoarse and barely even audible. another coughing fit threatens to take over me but he holds a glass of water in front of me before that can happen. 

i take one look at his unimpressed face and take the glass dutifully. 

“i don’t remember calling your name.” i set the glass aside and try to prop myself up. he immediately moves to prop up a few pillows behind me. 

“well you would if your brain wasn't so fever addled. i reckon it’s melting. because you refuse to listen to me.”

“i’ve listened to you all day!”

“and did you eat when i brought you that bowl of soup in bed or did you make a face?”

“right,” i pout, pull out the last arrow from my arsenal, “are we really gonna do this when i’m on my death bed?”

a laugh tumbles out of him, surprising us both. he presses a hand over his mouth to stop it, pretends to run a hand through his beard to cover it up. “oh now you’re too sick, are you? i thought you were ‘just fine’.”

“schrödinger’s sickness,” i shrug and silently celebrate when he has to fight another smile.

“alright, how about we make a deal,” he says and extends his hand towards me, all business-like and serious. “you have some of that soup, let me help you with a quick shower, and then i’ll stay away from you. you won’t get me sick.”

“if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.” i giggle behind my hands like a child. maybe he's right, maybe the delirium's really getting to me.

he huffs, close to defeated. “you’re impossible. why won’t you let me baby you, hmm? is it really so bad to lean on someone else?”

“okay,” i hold my hands up weakly, defensively, “fine. deal.” and even though his peeved expression is highly entertaining, i keep my laugh to myself. “how could i ever say no to you?”

“you have,” he points out, “multiple times, if i may add! and quit flirting. it’s time to let me do my job.”

“and what job is that?”

“nursing you back to health. making sure you don’t waste away like you so obviously want to.”

“and will you be by my bedside in a slutty nurse costume?” i snort, “you have the legs for it.”

rapidly, he mutters the words “delirious” and “impossible” among others under his breath but i don’t miss the way his face splits into a smile. how he shakes his head. especially not the fondness in his eyes when he pulls the blankets off me and holds my shivering body closer. 

without hesitating, i curl into him, into the crook of his neck, trying to fit myself into any cavities of his body that will have me. anything for his warmth. 

“i’m going to give you so much grief the next time i’m sick,” he declares, then picks me up into his arms. 

i kiss the exposed part of his neck, resting my head in the crook. “is that a threat, sweet boy? because i know how much you love being babied—”

“shush, aren’t you supposed to have a sore throat?”

i hum noncommittally.

a moment later he sets me down on the lid of the toilet, and flits around the bathroom gathering things. i watch him—i watch the crease between his brows and the stray hair falling out of his bun. i watch where his t-shirt slides off his shoulder to expose a collarbone and the was he licks his lips when he’s thinking. 

and when my sweat-soaked skin breaks out into goosebumps once more, i know it’s not the fever. 

[harpersdragons]

Theft in the family, Chapter 6

Much quicker update than last time, gotta love winter break

words: 2455

Jason is officially panicking.

Damian’s nowhere in sight, and clearly hasn’t been for a while.

There’s no sign of a struggle, which is extremely uncharacteristic of his brother, but in his concussed state could be explained.

Jason huffs, heart beating wildly in his chest. He rushes back to the kitchen to grab his phone, hitting Barbara’s number.

“Where is he?” Jason growls as soon as she picks up.

“What? Where is who?” Barbara sounds genuinely confused, but he’ll analyze that later.

”You said you wouldn’t tell Bruce!”

”I didn’t!”

“Then where the fuck did Damian go?” Jason snaps. He can’t bring himself to feel sorry about it. His brother is missing, and she’s supposed to have eyes on him.

Not that he specified that to her.

But, really, he thought it was assumed.

“Damian’s missing?”

“Keep up.” Jason sighs, tugging on his hair slightly, “Fuck, Barbie, I thought you were gonna keep an eye on him!”

“I never said I would! Honestly, there’s only so many things I can do at once! You bats always expect me to be everywhere, all the time!”

Jason growls, “I am not a bat.” He hangs up the phone without a second thought, barely restraining himself from tossing it across the room.

If the bats don’t have Damian, then the kid either left of his own volition (extremely unlikely), or the league took him.

Fuck.

Jason shoulda kept a closer eye on him, he knew taking Damian from the league was declaring war, Ra’s wouldn’t let him go without a fight.

Breathing deeply, he drops onto the couch.

There’s another person he could call.

But fuckin’ hell, it’s gonna be an unpleasant phone call.

He presses the contact, listening to it ring.

Another bolt of anxiety shoots through as it connects, and a voice rings out: “Hello?”

“Heyyy, Talia, listen—”

“What did you do now?” Talia’s voice radiates disappointment.

“What, I can’t just call you for fun?”

“When it’s nearly one in the morning in Gotham? No.”

“It’s not my fault this time!”

“What happened.”

“Damian may, or may not, have gone missing.”

Talia’s silence is deafening.

“What.” Her voice has gone deadly soft.

“I ran out for an hour or two, and was coming right back, and he was just gone! I swear, Talia, we were in a safe location. I don’t know how they found us. I covered our tracks and everything!” He knows he’s rambling, but couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Damian’s been missing for probably an hour, maybe longer, and that’s more than enough time for a League assassin to get him on a plane back to Nanda Parbat.

“Who, exactly, is they?”

“The league. I think. I don’t know for sure. I came back, and he was just gone.”

Talia hums across the line. “I’ll look into it.”

The dial tone rings out before Jason can speak again.

Jason collapses back against the couch. There’s no trail. Jason can’t even figure out when Damian was taken, let alone how. Even injured that kid is a force to be reckoned with.

Blowing a calming breath out, Jason heaves himself up. He has to do something. He can’t just sit around uselessly while Damian, while his brother, is out there with some assassin.

Jason pulls his gear on methodically, the motions somewhat soothing, focusing him and getting him out of his head.

This is fuckin’ war.

Just as he finishes strapping his weapons on and slinging his cloak over his shoulders, his phone rings again.

”I’ve got a location. The assassin, and it was definitely one of the League’s, wasn’t even smart about it. Talia helped out some, though I don’t know how you convinced her to do so.” Babs starts talking as soon as he picks up. He can hear her clicking the keys in the background, and then a location pops up on his phone.

”Thanks.” Jason growls and hangs up. He’s gonna get an earful about that later, but oh well. He’s got a kid to find.

Jason exits, using the trees to get to the city faster, and once he’s there he launches into the sky.

The location leads him to an old abandoned apartment building in Crime Alley. There’s no way to tell which apartment they’re in, Barbara’s tip only says they were seen entering the building. The assassin would know better than to turn lights on or make it obvious which apartment they’re in.

Jason perches on a roof on a nearby building, observing. The best tactic is probably to go in from the roof, and work his way down. This would be easier if he had a team, or at least a partner, so one of them can work down and the other can work up and they meet in the middle.

As it is, Jason’s alone.

He works steadily through the building, doing his best to keep the element of surprise, picking locks instead of smashing doors in. If the doors aren’t unlocked, the quality of the locks is abysmal.

It doesn’t take long before he finds the right apartment, able to hear a quiet voice inside it.

Jason unholsters one of his guns, and kicks the door in. The effect is instantaneous, the assassin whirls and draws his blade in one smooth motion.

Damian is unconscious and tied to a chair in the corner, but he looks unharmed.

Jason fires, the assassin dodges, flipping closer and knocking Jason’s gun wide.

The two grapple, but Jason eventually gets the upper hand, slamming the smaller man into the wall.

“You can not hide the Heir forever,” The assassin’s voice takes a sinister note, “The Demon’s Head always prevails.”

“Hm.” Jason cocks his head, staring the assassin down, “Possibly, but today’s not that day.” Without another word, he slips a dagger out of its sheath and lodges it in the man’s chest. He yanks the blade out just as quickly, stepping back and letting the assassin fall to the ground. He waits to ensure the man dies, before absently wiping the blood off on his pants and rushing to Damian.

He cuts his brother loose, then catches him as he sags forward. Hefting Damian into his arms, he quickly texts Babs and Talia that he’s got him, and heads back up to the roof.

Grappling will be more difficult since Damian is still unconscious, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. Thankfully he has some rope in a pocket (you thank Batman’s need to be prepared for any situation at a given time), and he can secure Damian to his chest and leave his hands free.

The trip back towards the safe house settles his mind more, and he allows himself to cherish the feeling of his baby brother strapped to his chest.

Damian’s unconscious, but he’s alive and—mostly, he still has a concussion—uninjured.

Once he’s a decent way away from the apartment building, he stops on a rooftop. He needs to actually check Damian over more thoroughly and make sure there’s no new injuries. He unwinds the impromptu harness he created, setting Damian on the ground near an AC vent.

“Dames, can you hear me?”

No response, he doesn’t even shift.

It was expected, but that doesn’t mean Jason likes it.

He can’t find any new injuries, so he starts preparing to finish the journey to the safehouse. He still needs to get groceries soon, but they can make do for a bit longer. Damian needs the rest. Hell, Jason needs the rest.

Distantly he hears the distinctive swish of a cape—well, distinctive if you were trained by the Bat and are accustomed to hearing it. Seconds later, there’s the soft thud of boots hitting the roof, accompanied by Bruce’s low growl, “Step away from the kid.”

Jason does no such thing. He does, however, turn around slowly. Dick and Tim land on either side of Bruce. “Wow…the kid? Not your kid? I’m impressed, Batsy, you’ve hit a new level of repression. I woulda thought if you saw a crime lord crouching over your missing son you’d be a bit more upset.”

Bruce doesn’t respond.

Jason’s hands itch to reach for his weapons, but he can’t make the first move. He doesn’t stand a chance against all three of them.

One? Absolutely.

Two could possibly be doable.

But there’s no chance in hell he can fend off all three.

“Y'know what? I think I’ll keep him. After all, you clearly can’t be trusted to watch after him.” Jason smirks under his mask. He watches Bruce make a discreet motion with his hand, and readies himself for an attack. It was one he didn’t recognize, obviously something they came up with after he died.

He’s not waiting long before both Nightwing and Robin launch themselves at him. Bruce stays back, for now.

That’s a great thing, because Jason’s gonna have enough of a time fending off these two.

Tim’s not a problem, the kid’s a decent fighter, but he’s no match for Jason.

Dick on the other hand…

The flippy bastard is hard to actually hit.

No matter how much Jason wants to deck him.

He whirls, ducking under Nightwing’s aerial attack, throwing a hit upwards—and missing. How the fuck did Nightwing dodge mid air?

Tim’s attack was the opposite of Dick’s, he came at Jason from the ground, whipping his bo staff at Jason’s face. Jason barely manages to duck, risking a glance behind him to make sure Damian’s out of range of the fight. He can’t lead them away, because that leaves Damian open for one of them to grab, but he doesn’t want Damian caught in the line of fire—metaphorical fire, he’s not pulling his guns out when his baby brother is so close.

Jason dodges an attempt to grab him from Dick, landing a hit on Tim as he does.

The fight continues, Jason getting hits in occasionally, but mainly trying to dodge getting his ass kicked.

Tim’s bo staff is fuckin’ annoying, man.

He keeps an eye on Bruce’s position, but the old man seems content to watch for now. Jason backs up a step, dodging another swipe of a bo staff and subsequent escrima attack (The bastards fighting styles coordinate. Jason is gonna throw someone off a roof. Possibly himself). His foot nudges the kid behind him, and he feels Damian flinch violently, a small whine leaving his mouth.

Shit

He’s awake.

The noise makes Dick falter just enough for Jason to land a knockout punch, drawing his sword immediately after and blocking Tim’s incoming swing. The screech of metal makes Damian flinch again, barely suppressing a cry. Jason can vaguely hear him shifting further away, a slight movement of gravel.

With Dick out of the way, it’s much easier to incapacitate his replacement. Tim goes down quickly, and he sees Bruce shift forward. Jason levels his sword in his direction, “Not another step, Old Man.”

“Put the sword down.”

“I think not.” He crouches down, turning towards Damian but still keeping an eye on Bruce. Damian seems frozen where he is, curled in as tight of a ball as he can get. “S’alright, Habibi, you’re ok.”

Damian doesn’t seem to hear him, so Jason waits. Damian doesn’t particularly like to be touched when he’s distressed, so the best course is to wait until he’s responsive and can seek Jason out himself.

It doesn’t take too long, and Damian uncurls himself slowly. His face is wet with tears, eyes red and chest heaving.

“There we go. We’re all good here, Princeling.” Jason opens one arm, offering a hug. The kid launches at him, and Jason holds him tight. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

Damian buries his face in Jason’s shoulder, “Can we leave, Akhi?”

“Soon, Habibi, just gotta deal with bat infestation.” Jason levels a glare at Bruce.

“You’re not leaving with him.”

“Listen, I have had maybe 3 hours of sleep in the past 2 days—”

“Maybe you shouldn’t kidnap children.”

“I’m not done. I’m tired, and you can go fuck yourself, alrigh’? Damian’s my brother, I’m not gonna hurt him. Give me ‘till Sunday morning and I’ll have him back to you completely unharmed.”

“Hn.”

“What more do you want, Old Man? This is as close to begging as I’m gonna get. I’ll fight you if you really want to, but I’d really rather not.”

Damian turns his head, making eye contact with his father, “Can I go with him, Baba? I will be safe.”

Jason can see Bruce bluescreen at the endearment, and honestly he gets it.

“What the fuck, kid?”

Bruce still hasn’t rebooted. Jason should probably leave now before he does.

“...Jason?” Bruce speaks quietly.

Jason.exe has crashed, please hold while maintenance is performed.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” It definitely takes him a solid minute to reboot his own brain. “Your kid basically just called you dad, and that’s what you’re getting from this?”

“You didn’t deny it…how—how are you alive?”

Hell, he’s not equipped for this bullshit. He can practically hear Bruce’s impending breakdown.

Fuck this shit.

He can see Dick and Tim and starting to shift, and he does not want an act 2 of this bullshit.

Please exit stage left

“Ask your ex. Peace out!” Jason sheaths his sword, grabbing his grapple gun and making sure his hold on Damian is secure, then launches himself off the building.

“Wait—!” He can hear Bruce’s yell from behind him, but he just propels himself faster.

Why the absolute fuck did he grapple all the way from Bristol?

It takes them a while before they get back to the safehouse, and he hopes they didn’t fuckin’ follow him, he doesn’t have it in him to move safehouses again.

When they do finally arrive, Damian is starting to fall asleep again. Jason convinces him to go take a quick shower. They don’t have clothes for either of them, so that’ll have to be on the shopping list for tomorrow.

When they finally settle into bed, Jason leans against the headboard. He doesn’t think he can sleep knowing an assassin broke in here about 4 hours ago. He has to be awake to guard Damian.

He gets up and grabs Pride and Prejudice, may as well reread it, he’s got no other entertainment.

He leans back, running his finger over the old annotations, and settles in for a long night.

He drifts off at some point, slumping further against the headboard, book falling open in his lap, Damian’s head resting against his stomach.

[pigeonpeach]

I’ll take whats yours and make it mine~

Aka Yelan vs Pantalone

Cw: forced marriage, basically legal kidnapping, then illegal kidnapping, Yelan saves you dw, Wlw, reader is called ‘bride’, mild misogynistic themes,

-also fun fact: chinese wedding dresses are red with red veils and not white because white is the color of death in china.

To your surprise you had been arranged to marry a harbinger? It was quite a jarring experience and upsetting. You would be leaving behind everything to go to Snezhnaya, a completely different culture and completely different environment. You were devastated to say the least. You would never bee seeing your homeland again according to your father who seemed far too okay with this all. Apparently the Regator caught sight of you and decided he needed you for himself. You werent happy. You considered running away but you would be running from the Fatui. You couldn’t help but cry just thinking of the life you lead. Besides.. you were so close to finishing your degree in business. You had wanted to join the Tianquan someday. You had so much potential all to be thrown out because some man thought you were beautiful.

“Dearie, you’d never have to work a day in your life as his wife.” Your mother tried to comfort you but also persuade you to just go along with it.

“You don’t get it. I just got a letter from my friend Keqing who said Lady Ningguang would be interested in offering me a PAID internship! And dad just sold me to some bloodthristy harbinger!” You whined. You were going to miss Liyue, your friends, your dreams. Everything was over.

“Well.. to be fair we don’t really have a choice here… Pantalone is a force to be reckoned with and… we just wouldn’t be able to stand against him. My dear its better you go as his wife than as his prisoner. At least as his wife you would get some respect and agency. Now wipe your tears. We have to start preparing for your… depature.”

Today was the worst. Dawned in red with a thick veil over your face, stuffed into a carriage. Did you really have to travel in your wedding dress? Its such a long journey too.. its incredibly uncomfortable sitting for hours in such a tight garment. Worst off all your parents weren’t allowed to go, you tried not to cry in the carriage. Fatui were all around the outside, soldiers with stones for hearts it seemed as they seemed annoyed when you showed any semblance of struggle. You weren’t looking forward to being married into the Fatui whatsoever.

Then the carriage stopped. You paused. Was it time to camp already? You looked through the see through curtains, its evening. But they usually wouldn’t stop until they came across some inn or city? Your answer came in the form of gunshots ringing out, the carriage shook as the horses became spooked and rode off dragging you in the carriage with no rider it seemed. You held to the walls as you could hear the fight from afar. Who was fighting them? What was happening?

“Help! Someone? Whats going on?!” You cried out. But no one answered. The ride was bumpy, you couldnt really even know what was happening. Was it a ambush? Who would ambush you?

The carriage suddenly stopped vaulting your forward. You groaned as you made contact with the wooden wall infront of you. You could hear the fight continue as it seemed the Fatuus were losing… who could be so powerful? You noticed the carriage door was still unlocked. Now unguarded you could just… poke your head out maybe?

You did so, slightly to look out, you saw the horses were gone actually, the leashes holding them had been severed. You briefly hoped they were fine, then you heard someone approaching. You quickly closed the door hiding. If someone was powerful enough to take on that many fatui agents then you had absolutely no shot against them.

“I know you’re in there, come on out.” You heard a voice say, it sounded confident and sultry. You hesitated as footsteps got closer. Finally the door opened. A lady with short dark blue hair and a unique attire greeted you with a smug smile. “You’re quite the pretty bride, but I assume you don’t want to be here huh?” She said casually. You nodded. She offered you her hand. “I can get you out of here, and I’ll take you somewhere safer. You’ll never have to marry that harbinger.” Her voice sounded confident. She seemed to know what she was talking about. You hesitated before taking her hand. With that she helped you out. She lifted your veil, firmly removing it letting you now clearly look around without it.

“Those… were the millieth… they just let us past like that?” You were a bit surprised as you were led to a hotel room.

“Darling, I’m not just some robin hood stealing from the Fatui, I’m a secret agent.” She said as she helped you change out of your dress. You were blushing as you undressed with your back to her, covering your body. “I heard he was forcing some young lady to marry him and I decided to intervene. I assure you, you will be safe here. I have plenty of strings here to pull. So needless to say, you’re under the Tianquan’s protection now. You can relax.” Her words were so soothing… you felt so flustered. She’s so beautiful too. Who would’ve known you would be saved by someone like her? The lord of Geo must have heard your prayers.

“T-thank you… I-i cannot thank you enough!” You say as she hands you a new uniform. Your eyes widen as you realize its a uniform worn by the assistants of Lady Ningguang. “W-what but this is…”

“Your cover. You’re going to hide out in the Jade Chamber for a bit. You see, Lady Ningguang owes me a favor or two.. and I asked if I could house you temporarily in the Jade Chamber. One of the most secure locations in all of Liyue. No one will ever suspect you’re there. Of course you’ll be out to work but if I remember correctly that’s what you wanted yes?”

“W-wait.. you arranged all this for me? Why?” You asked. You finished putting on your uniform as you turned to her. She smiled.

“Well.. I couldn’t let a pretty face like yours be wasted on that banker. Jewels like yourself deserve better than to be treated like a trophy. I’ve always like taking from him too. And I’ve actually had my eye on you too.” Her voice was so sweet, like candy. You felt like you were being lured into a trance almost, sitting on the bed blushing as she folded up your dress. “I assure you, I’ll be taking good care of you~��� she said with a wink.

“WHAT?!” Pantalone’s hands tore the report in half as his underling trembled.

“They did everything possible yet the bandit made it out with the bride.” The underling said nervously.

“I heard you the first time.” He said seething. “What I want to know is how incompetent were those agents that ONE pesky agent could work through their defenses and make off with MY bride!” Pantalone sat back down, his legs crossed as he attempted to regain his composure.

“We’re working to identify the thief but there’s no clues. We could only find the veil.”

“Must I go down there myself to find them? What are you doing standing around here anyways, shoo. Go tell them to keep searching and send out more investigators. I paid good money for that bride so either I’ll have them or I’ll have you sent to Dottore’s Laboratory!” Pantalone hissed. Immediately the underling bowed and left. He groaned as he sat in his chair.

“You’re not going to win this game, you pesky woman.” He hissed

[lvrcpid]

PICK YOUR SIDE (rewrite)

includes : fem!reader. cursing. implied death. older sister!reader. younger sister!reader. reader is older than lo’ak but younger than neteyam. angst. read with caution (?). i’m leaving this on a cliffhanger.

they say a picture is worth a thousand words. you beg to differ. the smiles of your family members made your mouth go sour. who knew it would go so wrong so quickly.

your fingers trailed over the family photo in your hand, stopping over neteyam’s face. he was such a bright soul, he must’ve been so scared.

it’s been a few years since neteyam had passed. three to be exact. the family went somewhat back to normal but the home you all once shared felt more dull and dim than normal.

you all left neteyam’s things untouched. his bow still in the same place. his pillow positioned in the same way. you all just couldn’t move it, feeling like you were slowly removing parts of neteyam by touching his things.

your family all grieved him in different ways. some ways were healthy and some were questionable. but you didn’t feel the need to bring it up. you were dealing with your own feelings. you felt hurt, betrayed, guilty and most of all, angry. your anger was a force to be reckoned with per-say. you did a good job at hiding it, pushing it down for 3 years straight.

your father experienced the most change out of all of you. becoming more protective of the rest of you all, never wanting to experience that kind of loss ever again. so when quartich and the rda came back, he immediately shut down the idea of helping them fight.

‘but father please i-‘ ‘y/n that’s final. you will stay here with lo’ak and tuk.’ yet again your father dismissed you, your mother flashing you a pitiful expression as she followed your father.

it wasn’t fair. you deserved just as much as a chance as they did. you could help them. you could avenge your brothers death. neteyam didn’t deserve to die in vain.

lo’ak appeared behind you, a large hand on your shoulder. lo’ak grew into such a mature young man, he was 17 now, a true warrior. he mirrored neteyam so much it brought tears to your eyes.

‘go. i’ll watch tuk. go help them fight’ he said, placing something in your hand. it was neteyam’s bow and a few of his arrows. ‘lo’ak no i can’t-‘. lo’ak said nothing as he pushed you out of your home, giving you a small smile before running back in.

you quickly caught up to your parents. jake didn’t speak as he figured you would come anyways despite his warning. he knew you were just like lo’ak, hard headed and stubborn. neytiri didn’t want to admit it but she was glad you were there.

the three of you managed to make your way deeper into the forest, your bodies on constant high alert. your ear twitched as you heard a twig snap, neck snapping towards the noise as you quickly lined up the arrow with his bow, whispering a quick ‘make this one count neteyam..’ before the figure jumped out at you, holding its hands up and yelling ‘don’t shoot it’s me!’ you instantly recognized the voice as spider, lowering your bow and sighing. ‘you’re lucky i didn’t kill you’ not knowing the events that would take place there shortly afterwards.

your dad had alerted you that they had found quartich a few moments later, turning your attention from spider and bolting your way towards the cliff they were on, spider hot on your tail.

you watched as your father and the man who’s tortured your family for years tussled, both men slightly wounded from the brawl. ‘mom! dad!’ you yelled, turning their attention to you. just then quartich quickly kicked jake off of him, radioing in for the helicopter to come down and get him.

your father rubbed his nose and your mother ran up to you, screening for any injury. ‘mother i am fine..’ the winds from the helicopter propellers made your hair fly into your face, watching as your father just let him go. ‘you son of a bitch i thought we killed you already!’ he yelled over the noise.

quartich just let out a sinister laugh, looking behind them and winking. ‘you have my boy to thank! saving his old man like a son should!’

your world froze. your blood went cold. the sound of the bow and arrows hitting the floor like blocks on a carpet. you couldn’t help but slowly turn around, horror painted across your face as you met eyes with the boy who you thought of as a friend. as a brother.

‘boy..is this true’ jake said, the noise was gone as quartich flew away. spider was silent. the 3 year long feeling of guilt eating away at his insides as he put his head down, shame written all over his face.

neytiri said nothing, afraid she was going to severely harm the boy yet again, she stayed silent, yet her eyes told a million words at once.

you felt like you couldn’t breathe. you felt like the world was caving under you as you stalked over to the boy. ‘did you..really?’ you asked, your voice nothing short of a whisper. he met eyes with you, giving a shameful nod.

in that moment you felt nothing but rage. 1,065 days of rage. the nights and days you stayed up sobbing, wishing to yourself that it was you. praying to eywa to bring your brother back. 3 years of suppressed anger bubbling over like tea in a kettle.

everything moved in an instant. one minute you were in front of the boy, now you are dangling him from the cliff, his cries and pleads with you to spare his life were muffled as your mind was spinning every which way.

‘y/n no!’ your father tried to rush over to you but neytiri was quick to stop him. while she disliked the human boy, her body tensed up watching you hold him over the ledge. one wrong move and you both were done for. ‘ma jake..if you go..they will both fall’ she said, holding a tight grip on her husband. jake looked surprised at you. you couldn’t even hurt a fly if you tried and here you were, on the verge of killing spider.

he felt bad for both parties. spider was just a boy protecting his family, as jake does with his own family. and you were his grieving daughter. he felt for you but he also felt for spider

‘y/n just think about this..you don’t have to do this..killing him won’t bring neteyam back..you gain nothing from this..’ he said, breaking from neytiris grip, stalking over to you with his hand extended, hoping you would break out of this trance and realize what you’re doing.

‘father..you really want to save this human? he’s the reason your son is dead.. your precious golden child..and you want to save him?” you looked back at your father, leaning spider over the edge even further, almost slipping in the process.

‘y/n!’ your mother called, now behind jake as she’s trying desperately to pull you back, afraid to lose another child.

‘i’m going to give you both a choice..pick your side..me?’ you said turning to them, angry tears now streaming down your face. you slowly turned your head to the now sobbing boy as he continued to beg and plead for his life.

‘or the bitch im gonna kill?’

tags 🏷️: @23victoria @avtprint @bucky12345 @boilingpots @Marcswife21 @elegantkidfansoul @itsyogurl @stars4deku @stvpidscvpid @uniltsatirey @urdeadpoet @annamarieisbae @graysonmalik2550 @blueberryfailureclinic

[abiiors]

totally not inspired by real-life events... but I am here begging for Jules looking after sick matty pleek. I need to baby that man, and I'm unashamed

noooooo i understand!!! i hope covid has not been mean to you :(

“go away, you’re not supposed to be in here,” matty groans from under the mountain of blankets, struggling to fully breath. 

the room is somehow boiling hot and bitterly cold. he takes a peek at jules' frowning face, and shuts his eyes again. 

“you were calling my name,” her voice floats in on the breeze, garbled as if he's under water and she’s trying to reach him. “you sounded quite weak and pathetic if i’m being honest—”

“oi!”

“scared me a bit.”

matty sighs into the pillow and grimaces when a sweat-soaked tissue touches his nose. he shouldn’t be this disgusted by it. every inch of his skin feels the same—sweat-soaked and grimy and icky. 

a moment later, a cold hand touches his forehead. and then he hears a wince. 

“oh, you’re not doing so well are you?”

“miserable. but you should go. i’ll be just fine—” and then, just to drive home the point, his body breaks into a coughing fit. 

the cold hand moves to his back; jules, stroking down his spine until he can finally catch a breath, get some air in his lungs. it burns, of course. it burns like he's swallowed glass. 

“quit being so stubborn, will you? don’t make me wrestle you into being a good patient.”

“oooh kinky,” matty teases, his voice hoarse and barely even audible. another coughing fit threatens to take over him, but jules holds a glass of water in front of him before that can happen. 

matty looks at her unimpressed face and takes the glass dutifully. 

“i don’t remember calling your name.” he sets the glass aside and tries to prop himself up. jules immediately moves to set a few pillows behind him. 

“well you would if your brain weren’t so fever addled. i reckon it’s melting. because you refuse to listen to me.”

“i’ve listened to you all day!”

“and did you eat when i brought you a bowl of soup in bed or did you make a face?”

“right,” matty pouts, pulls out the last arrow from his arsenal, “are we really gonna do this when i’m on my death bed?”

a laugh tumbles out of jules, surprising them both. she presses a hand over her mouth to stop it, pretends to run a hand over her face to cover it up. “oh now you’re too sick, are you? i though you were ‘just fine’.”

“schrödinger’s sickness,” matty shrugs and silently celebrates when she has to fight another smile.

“alright, how about we make a deal,” jules says and extends her hand towards him, all business-like and serious. “you have some of that soup, let me help you with a quick shower, and then i’ll stay away from you. you won’t get me sick.”

“if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.” he giggles behind his hands like a child. maybe she's right, maybe the delirium's really getting to him. 

jules huffs, close to defeated. “you’re impossible. why won’t you let me baby you, hmm? is it really so bad to lean on someone else?”

“okay,” matty holds his hands up weakly, defensively, “fine. deal.” and even though her peeved expression is highly entertaining, he keeps his laugh to himself. “how could i ever say no to you.”

“you have,” she points out, “multiple times, if i may add! and quit flirting. it’s time to let me do my job.”

“and what job is that?”

“nursing you back to health. making sure you don’t waste away like you so obviously want to.”

“and will you be by my bedside in a slutty nurse costume?” matty snorts, “you have the legs for it.”

rapidly, jules mutters the words “delirious” and “impossible” among others under her breath, but he don’t miss the way her face splits into a smile. how she shakes her head. especially not the fondness in her eyes when she pulls the blankets off matty and holds his shivering body closer. 

without hesitating, he curls into her, into the crook of her neck, trying to fit herself into any cavities of her body that will have him. anything for her warmth. 

“i’m going to give you so much grief the next time i’m sick,” jules declares, then cuddles him a little closer. 

matty kisses the exposed part of her neck, resting his head in the crook. “is that a threat, darling? because i know how much you love being babied—”

“shush, aren’t you supposed to have a sore throat?”

a moment later jules pulls him out of bed, letting him lean his weight onto her until they're finally in the bathroom and he can sit on the lid of the toilet. she flits around the bathroom gathering things. matty watch her—he watches the crease between her brow and the stray hair falling out of her bun. he watches where her t-shirt slides off her shoulder to expose a collarbone and the was she licks her lips when she’s thinking. 

and when his sweat soaked skin breaks out into goosebumps once more, he knows it’s not the fever. 

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 9 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: This one is a little bit of a tough read so trigger warnings apply—while no sexual assault is depicted, it is heavily implied, mentioned, and a plot point of this particular chapter. Reader discretion advised. As always, let me know what you think and enjoy!

August 1943 

Being roused from the depths of sleep two nights before the Schweinfurt-Regensburg mission was most assuredly not what Ruth considered restful.  Considering the depth of planning that had gone into the mission, what with getting in contact with the base down in Africa, carefully planning routes with Bubbles, and going over the legality of getting the men further into Germany, Ruth was plain exhausted.  

And to be woken in the middle of the night with a phone call from the nearby RAF Base about an American pilot the night before and a British nurse was not something she could have predicted.  

Ruth was still in her pajamas as she hurried towards the phone in the mess hall, taking it and answering it tersely.  She had been given as few details as possible, but the British nurse had asked for her specifically and Ruth wasn’t one to turn down someone who knew enough about legal matters to call for her. 

“This is Lieutenant Sharpe,” Ruth answered, stifling a yawn behind her hand.  

A choked sort of sob sounded on the other end of the phone and Ruth clutched the phone tightly in her hand.  “R-Ruthie?  It’s me, Flora.” 

She couldn’t help the fact that her heart sank in her chest at the sound of Flora’s voice.  Sure, they had only known each other a short time.  But if something had happened to Flora by one of the men on this base?  Oh there would be hell to pay for someone.  

“What is it?  What happened?” Ruth soothed the words out in as gentle of a tone as she could muster.  There was a time and place for hellfire and reckoning and there was a time for kind words and quiet reassurances.  This was the latter.  Though she certainly intended to get whichever Major was over the American pilot involved.  

Silence on the other end for a long second.  

“Are you alright?” Ruth murmured.  “Have you seen a doctor?” 

“I was—I was so scared.  He wouldn’t let go and I kept on saying no.  I tried, Ruthie, I tried—” 

“Oh Flora,” Ruth let her eyes hit the ceiling, exhaustion and grief overtaking her shoulders.  “Do you know his name?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Okay, you tell me the name and exactly what happened,” Tugging the phone away from her mouth, Ruth elbowed the camp aide.  “Go get me a pad and a pen, now!” He dashed away and Ruth turned her attention back on the phone.  

“His name is Sam Wayne,” Flora choked out the words like they were some sort of poison. Ruth supposed, that in a way, it was.  “We were talking at the bar last night and he offered to walk me back to the barracks but he didn’t walk me back.” 

“Just take your time,” Ruth encouraged gently.  The camp aide returned, handing her a pad of paper and a pen.  Ruth began writing down what Flora had said, verbatim, unwilling to mess a single thing up.  

“He-he shoved me behind one of the houses and—and he—” 

“You told him no?  Tried to fight him back?” 

“I clawed at his eyes but that didn’t stop him.  And I said no,” Flora said vehemently. 

“You did so good, Flora,” Ruth breathed out.  “So good.  I’m going to take care of this for you.  I have this all written down.  Now you go see the doctor—make sure it’s a woman.  And you get her to write up an official document about your assault being rape, alright?” Ruth advised. 

“I can do that.” 

“Alright sweetheart, you just get some rest,” Ruth murmured.  “I’ll take care of this for you and I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.” 

“Ruthie?” 

“Yes?” 

“I was so-so scared.  But I—I knew that if I called you, you would help.” 

“Always,” Ruth promised her in a firm tone.  And with that, the phone call had ended and all of Ruth’s fury had launched into something else.  Propriety be damned, she was going to handle this right now.  Her gaze of righteous fury turned onto the camp aide.  “You know where Sam Wayne sleeps?” 

“Uh no—but seeing as he’s in the Hundredth—” 

“You better go get the Majors of the Hundredth the hell up.  We’re cleaning house.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last thing Bucky Egan wanted to be dealing with at 2 in the morning was a wake-up call from Lieutenant Ruth Sharpe.  It was one thing to deal with her during the day when he was slightly inebriated and had had a few drinks.  But for him to have been sleeping peacefully and have that interrupted was quite another thing. 

He stumbled out of his cabin, finding Jack Kidd suppressing a yawn and a very grumpy and confused Buck Cleven standing there alongside Bill Veale.  “What the hell is goin’ on here?” Bucky demanded. 

“I don’t know, somethin’ about cleaning house?” Buck mumbled. 

“It’s the lawyer,” Veale added.  

They didn’t get a chance to wonder long.  Ruth Sharpe made her appearance a few moments later, nearly making all of them jump in shock.  If not for the fact that Cleven and Egan weren’t wearing shirts, then for the fact that the fearsome Lieutenant Ruth Sharpe was still in her silky blue pajamas that bared her shoulders and part of her legs. 

“Uh, not that we’re not happy to see you—” Bucky started, blinking at the sight.  

“Sam Wayne, which bunk is he in?” Ruth demanded, turning so quickly to face him that her hair almost smacked him straight in the face.  

“Is there something—” 

“I doubt you want rapists in the Hundredth,” Ruth snapped.  “And considering that he raped a British Red Cross girl last night—” 

“Woah woah woah,” Buck put his hands up, eyes going wide.  “Are you sure—” 

“She’s a friend and she called me specifically because she knows I’m JAG-Corp and that he was a member of the Hundredth.  She said no and clawed his eyes.  If he indeed has claw marks that will be sufficient proof for you and your sensibilities, will it not, Major Cleven?” 

Buck fell silent, giving a nod.  “Yes, ma’am.” 

“He’s in hut 3,” Bucky said, feeling suddenly very solemn.  If there was one thing that he had learned in the last few months, it was that Ruth Sharpe was never wrong about anything.  And if this man was indeed guilty, then they needed to handle it quietly and discreetly.  “We can take you there.” 

“Then let’s go,” Ruth said, tilting her head at him. 

“Shouldn’t you—” Kidd started. 

“I’d rather not let a rapist sleep free.  If Cleven and Egan would prefer to cover themselves for modesty, then that’s their prerogative,” Ruth said coolly.  

Sensing that she had no intention of changing until the matter was done and closed, Bucky just gave a nod and the five of them began the trek back towards the bunks.  “Well how would you like to go about this, counselor?” Bucky questioned, glancing in her direction. 

“You can draw straws for all I care.  Just drag him out of there are claw marks around his eyes,” Ruth said, gesturing at the cabin they had come to a stop in front of. 

“I’ll go,” Buck finally said in a low tone.  He entered the cabin before anyone could stop him. 

Ruth tapped her foot impatiently, arms crossed in front of her chest as she stared at the bunkhouse.  “Sorry that this happened, ma’am,” Veale apologized. 

“You didn’t do it,” Ruth retorted, shooting him a withering gaze.  “Besides, I’ve been doing rape cases since before the war even started.  I doubt this will be the last time.” 

“Is your friend okay?” Bucky asked in a quiet voice, exhaling as she turned to face him.  

Ruth’s features softened ever so slightly at the question.  “She’s alive.  And she’s resilient, she’ll be alright.” 

No one else got a chance to ask questions.  There was a clattering sound in the cabin and the next thing they all knew, Buck Cleven was shoving Sam Wayne through the door and he was landing in a heap on the ground in front of them all.  Buck grabbed onto his head, forcing his gaze upwards. 

And there, with Jack Kidd holding a flashlight, Ruth saw the claw marks as clearly as she could see the moon in the sky.  “What the hell is going on—” Sam started. 

But he didn’t get a chance to finish his question.  A swift kick to the ass from Ruth sent him sprawling into the ground.  “You thought you’d get away from it?” 

“You bitch!  Why the hell is she—” 

Not a single person could stop Ruth Sharpe from punching Sam straight in the nose.  A loud CRACK filled the air and Ruth let out a curse, wringing her hand out as she looked at the bleeding man clutching his nose.  

“First off, that’s Lieutenant to you.  Second of all, you’ve got yourself a hell of a court martial, you son of a bitch.  Maybe if you hadn’t raped one of my friends last night you wouldn’t be in this position.  I’m going to watch your entire career be sunk by this one shitty decision and you will never forget it.  Or me.  Get this piece of shit out of my sight!” Ruth commanded. 

No one dared to argue with her after that.  And Ruth was left standing there as they carted him off to be detained.  And she just stood there, hand beginning to bruise and swell as her rage continued to bubble.  When she finally glanced up, she realized that Jack Kidd was still standing there. 

“You can go back to bed, Kidd.” 

“You should probably get that hand checked out,” he advised in a firm tone.  “I’ll walk you there, considering the fact that you’re still in your pajamas and that’s probably not the dignified look that you think it is.” 

Ruth just let out a deep sigh.  “Alright,” she relented.  “But then you’ve got to get some rest.  You’ll be flying soon enough.” 

Jack Kidd just gave a crooked sort of grin.  “Yeah I know.” 

“Hey Kidd?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Be safe out there, okay?  I think you’re the only person I’ve ever worked with that I actually don’t hate.” 

He just gave a grin.  He couldn’t decide if she was just really tired and didn’t care about sharing thoughts at the moment, or if the pain from her hand swelling was getting to her.  “Yeah, you got it.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fog before the mission was just the cherry on top of Ruth’s already shitty week.  This was going to be a damn mess if they didn’t take off at just the right time.  And considering that she was running on fumes, Ruth was ready to just command herself to take a nap (though she was sorely against them because it seemed like a waste of time in her opinion). 

And then of course there was the waiting.  For seven whole days, Ruth tried to busy herself in the court martial and the expulsion of Sam Wayne from the United States military as a whole.  Prison in London seemed like a fair enough sentence and she had gotten exactly what she wanted. 

It was a quick and quiet affair, with the higher-ups in brass not really wanting for her to make a big scene or fuss out of things.  So she got what she wanted and he was sent to prison.  

When the men finally returned from Africa, a whole week later, Ruth couldn’t deny the fact that she was very glad to see them back on base.  Those seven days of waiting felt like the Creation Period—and until the men were back, things did not feel right on the base.  And she wouldn’t admit it willingly, but she had, in fact, missed Kidd and Bucky quite a bit. 

Even if the latter was a nuisance to her sensibilities.  

It had been a costly mission, she had known what the fog would likely do to their carefully crafted plans.  But the people that she needed to keep this base going smoothly had returned.  And she would take that as a minor win. 

[garebearandnan]

DAY 14, PART 1, SCENE 3

Girls are heading to casa Amor this morning. But before you go there is a special boy you want to say goodbye too.

You finish getting ready a little while before the other girls.

MC (thinking): I’ve got a minute, now, and all the other girls are in here.

MC (thinking): Do I want to say a quick goodbye to one of the boys? I could pick any of them…  Good idea or Nah

MC (thinking): But what if they meet some new girls while we’re away, or something like that?

MC (thinking): I should make sure one of the boys has a good lasting memory of me.

You tiptoe back into the bedroom. The boys all seem to be sleeping soundly.

MC (thinking): Look at them, completely oblivious to the fact all the girls are gone…

You creep over to Gary's bed and kneel down next to his face.

You whisper, as quietly as you can…

MC: Hey.

Gary opens one eye and smiles when he sees you.

Gary: Oh, hey.

MC: Listen, we don’t have much time. Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but…

MC: The girls are going off on a secret trip.

Gary: Oh, woah, is everyone gone?

He cranes his neck and looks around the room. (Note: His comment will depend on how you crept out of the bedroom with the girls in an earlier scene.)

Gary: You lot are like cats. I’ve got no idea how you did that without making any noise.

MC: It helps that you guys all sleep like sacks of potatoes.

Gary: So where are you going?

MC: We don’t know - we’re just leaving and it’s meant to be secret.

Gary: Well, we’ll all be here waiting for you when you get back.

MC: Yeah? What if they're making us go away so they can bring a new girl in, and she tempts you.

Gary: There’s not a girl in the world they could bring in here who’d hold a candle to you.

MC: Correct answer.

(Just such a cute and great response. This boy's head is already gone. Even on day 2 after Priya stole him, he told MC: "Tell you what though… I’d be well chuffed to end up with a fittie like you." And "I’d say you’re my cup of tea." Good luck Casa girlies on trying to turn his head and his heart!)

MC (thinking): I should go. How do I want to leave it?

a)Kiss him b)Ruffle his hair c)Hit him with a pillow (all three are shown in picture collage)

(Hit him with a pillow.) You grab a pillow and hit him with it.

MC: Don't do anything I wouldn't , alright.

Gary: Alright.

(Ruffle his hair.) You reach across and ruffle his hair.

MC: You're cute.

MC: Have fun while we're gone.

Gary: I'll try.

*Kiss him

Gary: Come here you.

He sweeps you up in his arms and you run your hands along his biceps to his shoulders.

MC: Look at you, getting all muscly.

Gary: You reckon? Any day now I’ll be able to get these bad boys dancing for you.

Gary shimmies his pecs. 

I should... a)Shimmy back b)Swat him away c)Roll your eyes

I should... (Swat him away) You swat him away as he keeps moving towards you.

Gary: Come on, you know you love it. Imagine my solid pecs coming at you…

He stops and raises his eyebrows. 

Gary: I’ll be fighting you off.

*I should... Shimmy back

You began to shimmy with Gary and you both move back and forth for a while before bursting into laughter.

Gary: I like it better when you do it.

I should... (Roll your eyes.) You roll your eyes as Gary gives you a shimmy all he's got. He sees you waiting.

Gary: Don't act like your're not impressed.

Gary: Your eyes say 'What is he doing?' but your heart says 'Shimmy away, Gary.'

You grin at the stupid look on his face then take his chin in your hand and guide it towards you. He looks thoughtful as you draw closer.

Gary: I love making you smile. Your whole face lights up. 

You can tell a lot about a person from their smile.

You lean in and his lips meet yours. His strong hands massage their way down your back and he holds you tight. You pull back and see Gary’s eyes sparkle. 

Gary: Can I tell you a secret?

MC: Go on then.

Gary leans and whispers into your ear.

Gary: I’m growing quite fond of our little moments together.

You lean into him and whisper back.

1)Yeah, me too 2)You smoothie, you 3)You're such a melt (All same result)

MC: Yeah, me too.

Your eyes lock and you stay there in each other arms a moment, just enjoying the closeness.

The boys in the other beds start to stir. 

MC: See you soon, OK?

Bobby: Oy, quiet down over there.

MC: Okay, I have to go. Bye!

Gary: See ya! Have fun!

[halfway-happyyy]

into gold IV {rooster bradshaw}

synopsis: rooster bradshaw’s emotional baggage could fill a cargo container ten times over. he is the single father of a precocious and bubbly six-year-old, and despite his best efforts, has fallen head over heels for someone arguably more damaged than him- his daughter’s first grade teacher.

characters- bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, frankie bradshaw, female ooc scout wallis (she/her pronouns)

or- the one where they break each other's hearts.

word count- 3200+

part one

part two

part three

Scout spends the better part of her Saturday evening declining drinks from what she can only assume are some of San Diego’s finest gentlemen. So, she is surprised to find that come one o’clock in the morning, her entire world is spinning on its axis with no intention of letting up anytime soon. She reckons it might have been the three tequila shots taken at her grade partner (and dear friend) Lou’s behest. It could also have had something to do with the whiskey flight she consumed that Lou had ordered but never actually touched. Whatever it was, has led her out into the balmy evening air, with her finger poised precariously above Rooster’s phone number.

All the text messages he’d sent since the last time they shared dinner, had gone woefully unanswered. Scout could easily pin the blame on ‘end of the year chaos’ but something told her he’d see right through it. Someone bumps into her from behind just then, causing her finger to graze the number and with a sudden gasp, she hits decline. For a moment she thinks she’s successful; the moment passes, and her phone begins to vibrate with Rooster’s incoming call.

“Hello?” She hiccups.

“Scout, are you alright?” He immediately sounds concerned.

Fighting the bile rising in her throat, she takes a breath of fresh air, but all she gets is a lungful of acrid cigarette smoke- compliments of the young woman standing a little too close to her.

“Hey, I know this is a long shot because we haven’t spoken in a while and it’s totally okay if you can’t because of Frankie, but I was wondering if you would be able to pick me up?”

If she were any less inebriated, she might have heard his feet hitting the hardwood floor beneath his bed. She might have heard him bounding down the staircase, or the jangle of his car keys as he fished them out of the ceramic bowl in the front hallway.

“Frankie’s with Mav and Penny tonight. Where exactly are you?”

Scout turns to the person beside her and asks where they are. “I think it’s called the Whiskey House?”

She hears the Bronco roar to life in the background. “Alright, hang tight Scout. I’ll be there in about thirteen minutes, give or take.”

A sudden rush of loud music emanates from the open door as Lou stumbles out next to her. She wraps her arms around her frame and kisses her cheek, and Scout’s grateful for the cuddle as it helps to ward off the evening chill.

“How are ya, kiddo?” Lou asks.

A violent shiver wracks her before she hiccups and says, “I’ve been better. Who knew tequila and whiskey weren’t friends?”

Lou laughs. “We’ve always known that haven’t we? But rules go out the window when we play.” Reaching into her clutch, she retrieves a cigarette, positions it between her perfectly stained lips and lights it. ���How will you get home?”

Scout’s bashful gaze travels to the ground and Lou laughs, breathlessly.

“You absolute minx. You called him, didn’t you?”

Scout’s cheeks burn and she nods. “Yeah. I did.”

“Good for you,” Lou takes a drag off her smoke and nods her head in approval. “He’s a good egg, Scout.”

Scout swallows. “How can you tell?”

Lou’s gaze drifts to her; there is something unreadable in those beautiful orbs of hers. “Well, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve built up walls around your heart. And for good reason, I suppose.” She takes another drag and rests her head against the black brick of the building. “I can only imagine what losing a husband does to someone. But for as much as you want to resist it, you have let him, and Frankie dismantle some of those walls.”

Scout wants to say something else, but a wave of vertigo washes over her and she must lean against the wall to keep from losing her balance. The Bronco rolls to a stop in front of the bar. Rooster cuts the engine and joins Lou and Scout outside the entrance. And- goddamn, the man is a sight for sore eyes.

“Fun night?” He simpers and leans in to give Lou a quick hug. “Happy birthday, Miss Rutherford. Do you have a ride home?”

Lou ashes out the rest of her cigarette beneath the heel of her worn cowboy boot. “Sure do, thanks Rooster.”

“Of course.” His gaze travels to Scout’s, assessing her level of inebriation. “Let’s get you home, hmm?”

Lou presses another kiss to Scout’s cheek. “See you on Monday, sweet Scout. I do love you.”

Scout grins drunkenly at her friend. “I hope that you had the best birthday, Loumeister.”

Rooster helps her into the passenger seat, gently buckles her in and then settles in beside her. She mumbles her address to him, and then they’re off. Halfway through the ride, she asks if she can have the window down, knowing that the cool evening air will do wonders for the waves of nausea roiling in her belly. Rooster does as he’s asked and then says, “Scout if you think you’re going to be sick, you need to let me know, alright? Because I can pull over, I just need to know.”

She shakes her head, already feeling much better with the brisk saltwater breeze in her face.

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t be sick.” She murmurs, sleepily.

The term of endearment had been an accidental slip, but if she had been any less inebriated, she would have seen the smile that nearly split Rooster’s face in half.

When he gently shakes her awake fifteen minutes later, she is disoriented. He helps her from the car and holding her by the hand, leads her up the stone path to the front door of her duplex. When she drops the keys twice trying to fit them into the lock, he picks them up, unlocks the door, and follows her into the front foyer. Shrugging the jean jacket from her shoulders, he hangs it up in the front hall closet and follows her down the darkened hallway to her bedroom.

“I should go.” He murmurs.

And that’s the last thing that she wants, so she tries her luck a final time. “Please don’t.”

Regarding her in the low morning light, he finally relents. “Okay, Scout. I won’t.”

She tells him to come in after sixty seconds have passed. Shutting the door behind her, she frantically kicks stray pieces of clothing under her bed. Changing into a pair of pajama pants and a worn tank top, Rooster enters her room just after she’s thrown the last sock into the wicker hamper by her bed. She taps the space of made-up sheets next to her. “Let’s talk.” She yawns.

Rooster hesitates but does as he’s told and settles down next to her. “I’m not sure how much talking we’re about to do.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so silent lately.” Scout whispers.

Rooster shakes his head. “No apologies.”

She gazes at him, and though her thoughts are the farthest they’ve been from sharp in a long time, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen someone more clearly.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare?” He whispers, his honeyed voice is thick with the weight of looming sleep.

Scout smiles. “You have the most beautiful eyes, has anyone ever told you that?”

The smile fades from Rooster’s face, and the razor-thin scars on his cheeks stand out amongst the blush that floods them.

“Thank you for picking me up tonight.”

Rooster nods against the pillow. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Oh, poppycock.” Scout yawns.

“Poppycock? What are you, eighty?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

“You look amazing for eighty.”

She attempts a wink. “My plastic surgeon is a wizard.”

It’s silent for a little while before Rooster clears his throat. “That’s what we are though, Scout. We’re friends. And there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for a friend.”

And in her alcohol-induced drowsiness, Scout doesn’t realize she’s mumbled, “But I’ve always wanted more than that with you, Rooster,” out loud.

She wakes up the next morning to a dull throbbing behind her eyes- nothing a strong cup of coffee can’t remedy. The expanse of the bed next to her is empty, and she wonders if she dreamt Rooster had been there with her at all. It had seemed so real at the moment; the heady warmth of his hand in hers, the subtle dip in the mattress from his weight as he laid down beside her. She wonders then, with a fleeting feeling of shame, if she had said something to him in the clutches of whiskey that made him leave. With a sigh, she gets out of bed in search of coffee. To her amazement, Rooster is seated at the kitchen island, and when he sees her, he sets his phone down and offers her a slow smile.

“I was beginning to wonder when you might surface.”

She stands on tiptoes to retrieve two mugs from the cupboard beside the fridge.

“I thought I’d dreamt you.”

He clears his throat. “You didn’t. But if you require further confirmation, I could pinch you.”

She laughs. “No need. How do you take your coffee?”

“Black, please.”

It’s silent in the kitchen while she focuses most of her energy on making their drinks. There are a million things she could say, but none of them feel quite right so she settles for, “I’m sorry for last night.”

Rooster waves it off. “It’s not a problem, Scout. I was happy that you got a hold of me- happy to know that I was able to take you to a safe place.”

When she turns to view him in the growing morning light, she wonders for the first time, what it would have been like to meet him at the right time. She does her best then, to ignore the voice in her head that says, but now is the right time, Scout.

“Can I be honest with you about something, Scout?” Rooster asks.

She tries to fend off the sudden feeling of unease as she pours cream into her coffee. Joining him at the island, she slides his mug over and nods her head.

He purses his lips as if trying to figure out the best way to go about it all. “I don’t think that I can be just friends with you.”

Scout knows then that this is it; knows that if she can’t decide one way or the other, she will likely lose him and Frankie forever.

Rooster clears his throat. “And friends would be one thing- but Scout, I can’t even get you to respond to my messages.” Guilt manifests as a hard lump in the hollow of her throat. “I’m laying this all out on the line for you because I’ve had my fair share of loss and it’s made me hyper-aware of what I want for my life, and what I don’t want.”

She’s on the precipice of throwing it all in for him; she was there last night. But something is holding her back. Perhaps it’s the idea of finally having everything she’s ever dreamed of, and then having it all ripped away in the blink of an eye again that scares her so much.

“I was pregnant,” Scout says, softly. And she isn’t doing this for sympathy; she’s doing it because if she doesn’t get it off her chest, it may just crush her one day.

Rooster blanches and the color drains from his face.

She continues, knowing that if she stops, she may never start again. “I found out two weeks before Beau passed. I had meant to tell him, but then the mission happened, and I figured it would have been a pretty good welcome home surprise.” Scout swallows. “But then he died, and every fibre of my being wanted to die too. But I had the baby to think of. Even though it was only ever just going to be the two of us, I knew we’d be alright.” She clears the emotion building in her throat. “But when I went in for my next scan, they failed to find a heartbeat. And when I left the clinic that afternoon, it was just me again.”

Sorrow washes from Rooster in palpable waves.

“So, I know a thing or two about loss as well, Rooster. I know what it can rob a person of.”

Time, love, life.

“I am so sorry, Scout.”

She shakes her head. “That’s life Rooster. It’s no one’s fault. But I’m not there yet; I don’t think I’m capable of giving you and Frankie the kind of love you deserve.”

Words are meaningless after that; the shattered look in Rooster’s eyes says everything he can’t. He parts only after he's pressed a last, lingering kiss on her cheek. Scout feels the sharp knife of his absence immediately; where sunshine followed in his wake, a shadow now looms over her. She retreats to the darkened stillness of her room, crawling back under the weighted protection of her covers. After a while, her eyelids grow heavy and she gives in to the alluring siren song of sleep.

When she stirs awake hours later, her room is still bathed in the same indigo hue from the morning. She reaches over to the space of bed beside her, where Rooster’s body had been hours earlier and the ache to have him back in her orbit again is almost overwhelming. Something flips inside of her; and before she can talk herself out of it, she’s en route to Rooster’s house. She’s had the entire ride there to formulate what she would say to him when she saw him again, but the minute he opens the door to her, any semblance of an explanation evaporates into thin air. She almost expects him to be angry with her, but he’s anything but.

“I’d be out of my mind to let the two of you go, Rooster.”

This is me, laying everything out on the line for you.

In one swift motion, he has her pinned against the wall of the front hallway. His warm, slightly calloused hands (a product of working on planes in his spare time) caress her face as if it were the most precious thing in the world. His lips hover mere inches away from her own, and she shivers in anticipation as his breath washes over her in warm waves. He searches her gaze for anything in her eyes that might tell him to stop, and when he doesn’t find it, he gets closer to her still.

A small, wet cough sounds in the distance behind them, and Rooster pulls away from her as if he’s touched fire.

“Papa, I threw up.”

Frankie’s raw, fragile voice shatters the tension as if it were glass. Her Moana nightgown is covered in pink vomit, almost as if someone had thrown a full bottle of pepto bismol at her.

Rooster's transition into dad mode is seamless as he bends down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Oh, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

His sympathetic gaze travels to Scout’s. “Do you mind getting her into the tub while I change her bed?”

Scout shakes her head. “Not at all,” She walks over to where Frankie stands and takes hold of her small, clammy hand. “Come on, Frankie. I know just what to do to help you feel better.”

Once in the bathroom, Scout helps Frankie rid herself of her soiled nightgown and gets her into the warm, bubble-filled bath. She watches the little girl carefully, searching for any sign that she may be sick again. “How’s your tummy doing, Frank?” She asks.

Frankie settles back into the lavender suds and sighs. “It’s much better now, Scout. I think I ate too much bubblegum ice cream before bed.”

Scout lets out a small, relieved laugh. “I’d say so.”

They’re quiet a moment before Frankie asks why Scout’s at their house so late.

Scout shrugs. “I missed you guys.” And it’s god’s honest truth.

This answer seems to satiate her because all she says in response is, “We missed you too, Scout.”

By the time she’s finished getting her cleaned up, Frankie’s eyes have started closing on their own volition. Scout manages to get her out of the tub, dried off and into fresh pajamas before she’s comatose. Rooster tucks his girl in, and they’re about to leave before Frankie’s tiny, mouse-like voice rings out into the humid air before them. “Please stay, Scout.”

“Of course I will, Frankie.” She squeezes Rooster’s hand, knowing that as soon as the little girl is asleep, she’ll find her way to his room.

“Goodnight, Papa.”

Rooster smiles. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Alright, scooch over kid,” Scout whispers, climbing into bed next to her. Frankie’s head fits perfectly into the rounded nook of her shoulder blade, and the notion of it causes a happy tear to gather in the corner of her eye.

“Will you tell me a story Scout?”

She realizes now that the chances of ever denying Frankie of anything are entirely non-existent. “Anything you want, Frank.”

A persistent banging on the front door downstairs jolts Scout from a surprisingly sound sleep. She waits to see if the noise has roused Rooster yet, and when it doesn't, she peels herself from under Frankie’s impossibly warm body to investigate. Tiptoeing down the stairs, the banging grows ever louder. “I’m coming!” She calls out, somewhat irritated. It can’t be any later than seven o’clock in the morning. With a sigh, she swings open the door to reveal a beautiful, waifish blonde woman on the front porch. They stare at each other expectantly, and the longer Scout looks, the more she realizes how much Frankie resembles this woman.

“Can I help you?” Scout asks.

The woman scoffs. She’s about to answer when Frankie’s girlish squeal reveals her identity.

“Mommy!”

Scout doesn’t have time to register this information before the woman pushes past her to gather Frankie into her tan arms. She peppers the little girl with kisses and then turns to Scout, her expression disgusted.

“I’m Frankie’s mother. I’m taking care of her until Bradley returns from some sort of work thing.”

A mission.

An invisible trapdoor opens beneath Scout and she’s powerless to do anything but tumble right down through it.

Rooster appears from out of nowhere then, his beautiful brown eyes wide with shock and anger. “Sara, we’ve been over this before; you cannot just show up here like this,” His helpless gaze travels to Scout’s. “Scout, I can explain, just please don’t leave.” He pleads.

Scout’s mouth is void of any moisture; she couldn’t bring herself to say much even if she wanted to. She grabs the car keys next to Rooster’s and turns to Frankie, and all she can manage is, “You feel better today, Frank?”

The little girl nods her head, with tears swimming in her eyes.

Scout swallows back her own tears. “That’s good. Remember to tell Papa to keep on top of your medicine if your tummy starts hurting again, okay?”

Frankie nods and reaches both arms out for Scout to take her. Scout shakes her head, clears her throat and kisses her goodbye.

She doesn’t allow her tears to fall the way they need to until she’s put as much distance between herself and Rooster Bradshaw as possible.

[crowderiva]

"taking the other’s hand to look for injuries" zahariel/dorian. a classic for any warrior/non-warrior pair

Zahariel hates when Nailah is angry with him, and not for the first time in the last year he has to admit that this was an earned anger and not some trite sibling spat that could be mended over their favorite Dalish dish.

“Amatus?” Dorian’s voice sounded on the other side of Zahariel’s door, and for a split second Zahariel considered telling him that he didn’t want visitors. He was in a foul mood, and he didn’t want Dorian to have to deal with it. But it’s Dorian. It’s not like Dorian would take the silent treatment laying down.

So Zahariel opens the door, and no sooner than the door opens he’s falling into Dorian’s arms, burying his face in Dorian’s neck. Dorian let’s out a small huff, probably not expecting the taller, broader man to lean the full weight of his body against him, but the moment Zahariel had seen his concerned hazel eyes he’d been overcome by an exhaustion he could feel in his marrow.

Dorian must intuit this, because he helps Zahariel stand at full height again, turning him and marching him towards his bed.

Once they’re sitting down together, Dorian takes Zahariel right hand in his and inspects the back of it, eyebrows knit in concentration.

“What are you doing?” Zahariel asks, resigned to the inspection.

“Checking for injuries. The apostate’s cheeks are sharp, I am trying to make sure they didn’t cut you,” Dorian quips, trying to make light. And normally, Zahariel would appreciate that about him. He’s come to love Dorian’s little remarks to mask the concern buried just underneath the surface to anyone who cared enough to look for it. But today, Zahariel can’t muster the energy to laugh at it.

“I made a mistake, Dorian.” He admits, and Dorian’s other cups Zahariel’s cheek tenderly, moving his face so that Dorian can look him in the eyes.

“Don’t we all?” He asks, genuine this time, and Zahariel can feel the tears well.

“Nailah is angry with me. And I don’t blame her. I’m angry with myself for going off like that I just--”

“Wanted to protect her from being hurt?” Dorian asks, and Zahariel sighs, leaning his forehead against Dorian’s.

“How do you do that? See right through to the heart of me every time? It makes it exceedingly difficult to try and play coy like you do.”

Dorian laughs, low and deep, and pulls away from him just enough to look into his eyes again. “Oh, amatus. You are an exceedingly earnest man, I fear you couldn’t play coy if your life depended on it.” Zahariel opened his mouth to try and rebut that, but he found he couldn’t. Dorian just smiles.

“I remember several months ago you were willing to do just about anything to make sure my family crest was recovered for me, even when I had insisted that I would take care of it myself. You would do anything to protect those around you, and your sister knows that well. But this is something, amatus, that you’re going to have to let her work through on her own. This is a battle you cannot fight for her.”

Dorian’s right, and he knows it. He hates it, but he knows that Solas leaving her is something Nailah is going to have to reckon with. It still doesn’t diminish his anger with the other elf, the fact that he’d taken his sister to Crestwood just to end things like that…the way Nailah had looked when she’d gotten back before she’d buried herself in being the Inquisitor again, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. Cole was her only confidant now, and that was only because Cole could read her thoughts anyway. And he’d fucked things up further by doing this now.

“Will you stay with me?” Zahariel asks in lieu of continuing the conversation. He was too tired to keep spinning, unable to think of a way he could make it up to Nailah. To beg her to open up to him.

“Of course, darling. I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

And Zahariel may not know much about what he’s going to do or how he’s going to get Nailah to talk to him. How he’ll begin to apologize to Solas for hitting him. How he’ll make things right again. But he knows the answer to that. A wish more than anything else, and they both know it.

“Forever would be nice.”

[shadowqueenjude]

The Bastard of Doranelle: Lorcan's origin story @alice-bad-thoughts @yoddhasblog you two got me thinking so ofc i started writing shit lol. ima write more tmrw but this is the first part.

Over 500 years ago There was an infant dropped on the streets. Unfortunately, it was far from an unusual circumstance. Whores often gave birth to children they could not afford to have removed and did not want. Babies were abandoned in this area all the time, so often that people had started calling the place the Baby Tomb. The babies dropped there typically suffered one of three fates: either they died of starvation within a day or two, they were taken and eaten by desperately starving Fae, or a rare third option: they were picked up by somebody to take care of. A girl was watching the Baby Tomb as a young woman in a shawl deposited an infant at the Baby Tomb. A human: those were rare here in Doranelle, and often considered lower-class. It would make sense if she was a whore. It didn’t make the girl any less angry. That was a helpless infant. How could these people just leave them to die? Maria clenched her hands into fists. Her story was a little bit different. She’d had loving parents until last year when they’d both been executed for treason. They had worked for the Queen of the Fae and had apparently turned their back on her. So, the bitch had had them put down and all of their wealth stripped. That had left Maria an orphan just past her 14th birthday. Gone was the lavish lifestyle she had been gifted by her wealthy family. Gone were the parents who had showered her with love and affection. Most people expected that given her privileged birth, Maria would wither on the streets. But those people who believed that failed to consider several important factors: 1. Maria’s noble birth meant that she had strong Fae lineage built for surviving tough conditions.

2. Maria had played rough with males long before she had been forced onto the streets.

3. Her family had kept a small amount of money safe from the queen of the Fae’s clutches. Which meant that her parents had anticipated something like this happening. It wasn’t enough to buy a house or anything, but it would keep her alive for a few years before she figured out how to get a job while avoiding the tag of the “daughter of the traitor.” As soon as the woman left, Maria approached the infant. She looked around to see if anyone was watching her before she scooped the baby up into her arms and peered at his face. The baby was very skinny; most likely he was born prematurely, and the mother was probably not very healthy either. But his night-black eyes were bright and he already had a dusting of dark hair on his head. After a brief visit to the Black Market to acquire baby food, Maria carried the baby over to her little den, where she knew her friends would be waiting for her. As close to friends as you could get when you were all fighting for your survival, anyway. Symphony rolled her eyes as Maria approached. “What a surprise. Maria has picked up another stray.”

“Lay off her, Symph,” Neeraj said. Maria had a surge of gratefulness for Neeraj’s interference. Symphony was an acquired taste, very prickly and irritating at times, and she and Maria often clashed. Maria knew Symphony found Maria’s soft heart insufferable, and Maria felt the same about Symphony’s cold heart. “Really, you’re defending her, Neeraj? Remember that wild dog Maria tried to feed? And now she’s brought home an infant? How long will we survive, do you reckon? A few days?” “I’m not asking you to do shit, Phony,” Maria snapped, her nickname for her whenever Maria thought she was being rude. “I’ll take care of him myself.” “And waste our resources-“ “I’ll remind you, Phony, that most of it is either my inheritance money or money I earned through hard work-” “You mean stealing?” Symphony sneered. Maria ignored her, going on, “So you should be grateful I’m helping you guys out. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.” She saluted Symphony and Neeraj, walking past Vlain and Petro’s sleeping bodies as she passed.  She found her blanket and nestled into it, peering at the child again. She lifted the baby bottle she had gotten along with the food and placed it in the cherub’s mouth. Within a couple of minutes, the baby had consumed the entire bottle of food. Stunned, Maria placed the empty baby bottle on her other side, fully prepared to fall asleep. The baby reached forward with a tiny hand and grabbed one of her fingers. Maria gently tried to slide away, but found that the child had an almighty grip. Laughing, Maria pried the fingers off, staring at the child. “You’re a little fierce one, aren’t you? I think I’ll name you Lorcan,” Maria cooed at the infant. She could’ve sworn the little face smiled at her words. “You’re going to be like the little brother I never had, once you’re a little older. I always wanted siblings, you know,” Maria said. She was fully aware that she probably looked crazy talking to a baby, but she didn’t care. “We’re going to be the best sibling duo ever. You can even take my last name. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? The troublemakers, Maria and Lorcan Salvaterre.”

[nightwingshero]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @simonxriley @inafieldofdaisies @direwombat and @socially-awkward-skeleton! Thank you, lovelies!!!

Tagging: @detectivelokis @jinfromyarikawa @sstewyhosseini @baldurrs @marivenah @water-writings @oathofoaksart @playstationmademe @ri-a-rose @voidika @aceghosts @deputyash @shegetsburned @ghastlyrider @strafethesesinners @madparadoxum and anyone else who would like to share!!!

Just more RE stuff because why not? I need to work on prompts, but instead I’m trying to write a fic without planning and figuring out the details of my ocs and their canon. I like to get ahead of myself. This is also the first time I’ve ever written for Wren’s father, which is an experience all on its own, and I think one of the things I like about this is that we get to see it like this instead of just random flashbacks that I have planned for her fc5 fic. I’ll stop talking now. 

To say it was awkward was an understatement of the century, which was saying something considering the century was close to ending. Silence wasn’t something that made me uncomfortable, I enjoyed silence—my thoughts weren’t always too horrid to be alone with. Silence with him, however, was intolerable. The ambient noise of the typical hustle and bustle of the people around us seemed to only make it worse, as if it was purposefully pointing out the lack of conversation, as if it was mocking me and enjoying the fact that we had sat here for about fifteen minutes and barely uttered a word.

He glanced at me as he took a bit of his breakfast, watching as I moved my own meal around with my fork, watching the yolk spill and soak into the toast and hashbrowns on my plate. “You come all the way back here claiming you want to talk and get food, and you do none of those things. If you wanted to waste my damn time, you shoulda just said it.”

My fork stopped as I watched him shove another piece of steak and egg in his mouth, fighting to keep the cringe from my face. “You really shouldn’t be eating that.” Finally he leaned back, mouth still chewing, as his dark, cold blue eyes looked over me. I couldn’t help the way I wanted to squirm under his scrutiny. Every flaw became apparent under his judging gaze. Its good to see nothing changed.

“I’ll eat whatever the hell I want.” My dad replied before stabbing at his plate for more, the metal screaming against the plate, making me flinch. “Tired of bein’ told what to do. By you and by that damn chief. Force me into retirement, my fucking ass. They’re gonna replace me with some fuckin’ rookie. Believe that? What type of experience does some kid got over me?” His deep voice has gotten rougher over the years, just as much as he’s gotten more bitter. “Irons says it would be good for my health, we’ve been working together for years. He can shove it up his ass.”

Stephen Blake was a man to be reckoned with and that was how I knew him growing up. Not a doting father, not someone that would protect me and cherish me because I was his little girl—his only child—but a force of nature that I needed to weather until it was safe for me to run. And I had. He wasn’t a good man or a good father, but in the grand scheme of things, it could have been far worse. But that didn’t change the fact that neither of us had anyone else left, didn’t change the fact that I was the only one that could, or would, ever be able to take care of the things that were beginning to pop up. Like the current issue at hand.

“Marvin said—”

“So you think that because he said somethin’ to you, its true? You come all this way from your ivory tower because some fucking stranger says one thing. Maybe if you woulda stuck around, you’d fucking know better.”

He wasn’t over me running when I had the first chance. The fight had been roughly three years ago and he was still stewing in his rage over the fact that I chose a different life path. Sitting in front of him, I knew that there would be no forgiveness in the future, but that didn’t change what I had shown up for, it didn’t change what I had to do. “He said you’ve been coughing up blood for months. Sounds like they didn’t have a choice but to retire. It was that or what? Being let go due to not being able to do your job? I guess Chief Irons did you a favor.”

“Lying fucking prick, has his hands in too many fucking pockets. Piece of shit, loyalty is worth more than that.” Tossing his fork down he pointed at me and sneered, the wrinkles on his face deepening. “You fuckin’ remember that, you hear? Can’t tell how many times I’ve repeated myself, but you don’t fuckin’ listen.” He just shook his head in disappointment, the flickering lights on the bald part of his head reflecting there. “Some rookie cop is gonna take my place in this fuckin’ city and he’s gonna get a proper fuckin’ Raccoon City welcome while I get kicked out on my ass.”

“You need to go get the tests done we talked about.” I sighed, finally bringing us back to the reason I had traveled so far to meet him. “I have an appointment for you at the hospital.”

[ventisettestars]

DannyMay Day 9

Day 9: Ghost Zone [ao3]

This is a continuation of Day 8.

Summary: Vlad’s tour of the ghost zone is cut short by a strange ghost.

Vlad took the lead once in the Zone. He seemed to know exactly where they needed to go to see this ghost doctor. It unnerved Danny a little once they started to enter unknown territories. 

“Calm down. This is no different than your own explorations. These are just the paths I take.”

Danny nodded and started looking around. “Do you know anyone?”

“Of course. I’ve been traveling for a long time.” 

“So, like, do they like you? Or you got outstanding beef?”

“Honestly.” Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I get along with most ghosts. You probably could too if you didn’t just start with picking fights when meeting someone.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most ghosts invade the town or are sent by you to beat me up.” 

“Yes, well if you would just let me actually help you, I wouldn’t need to spend money to supplement your growth.” It was more a mumble from Vlad but it stopped Danny in his flight.

“What.” It wasn’t a question. Danny had heard Vlad just fine. 

“Oops. Cat’s out of the bag. For young ghosts it’s important to practice using your ectoplasm regularly, or your ectoplasm will form weak or it’ll be harder to learn new things. Even more so for halfas since we naturally don’t need to used it for everything since we’ve got out humanity. With most of the ghosts I hire, I make sure they are in your range. Maybe just slightly tougher.”

“So since I wouldn’t take you up on learning from you, you are- what, forcing ghost school on me??”

“Yes. And I’m sure half the ghosts you fight with are doing something similar, but fighting you themselves. I’d do it more, but I have a job.” 

The static in the ectoplasm around Danny started to rise with his mood. “I’ve been- And all this time- Everyone was just-” 

“Aw, look at that bright core!” A stray ghost passed and seemed to look at Danny with glee. “You are going to be a force to be reckoned with someday.” 

Some of the electricity sparked around Danny’s hair as the new ghost completely distracted him. The ghost ran their hand through his hair to ruffle it, and all the spark danny had building up completely dispersed. “Mighty force indeed.” 

“Ah- Thanks?”

The ghost circled Danny once or twice then turned to Vlad. “You on the way to the doctors? He seems in need of a check up.”

“Yeah.” Danny answered instead. “Vlad was going to show me the way. Are we close?”

“You are indeed. Here.” They ran their hand across open air and a portal opened. “A short cut. Because I like you. Make sure to come visit me once you get a bit stronger. I could go for a good brawl.” The ghost smiled revealing their face. Or rather faces. Their features kept shifting and the more Danny tried to focus on one, it shifted like water. Never making a fully still face. It almost looked like there were three sets of features swapping places. Like three faces rotating but none of them actually a dominant face. 

Vlad looked like he was going to be sick, bowed. “Thank you. Come along, Daniel.” 

Danny nodded. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” 

The ghost waved as they went through the portal.

             Notes:        

Anyone got any guess who the strange ghost was? (it's not Clockwork.)

Also there might be a part 3? Where danny actually makes it the doctor? Tho more likely this concept with Vlad will emerge in another fic all together. i dunno yet.