#and then Mom and my sister get back next week. thankfully both of their jobs are supportive and accommodating (and so is mine)

[cultivating-wildflowers]

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[yoongiseesawmp3]

cupid - seungcheol (m)

summary: brother’s best friend!seungcheol. you move in with your brother joshua while you look for a new place, so you finally meet his best friend and roommate seungcheol. you’ve only heard stories, so you’re not prepared for the good looks or the charm that he constantly exudes. after a really bad date, you need someone to save you, and with joshua mia, seungcheol comes to the rescue.

word count: 9.3k

warnings: smut!!! afab reader. unprotected sex. gendered terms (pretty girl, reader referred to as sister/sis). thigh riding. a little oral (m receiving).

masterlist

“jesus, how many boxes do you have?” joshua complains as you hand him another box of books to lug into his apartment. 

“only a couple more,” you tell him. “these are all the things i couldn’t fit in storage.”

“get a bigger unit next time,” your brother grumbles as you start the walk back into his building. 

“no,” you say stubbornly, and you can almost hear him roll his eyes. “why did you park so far away?”

“why are you complaining!” he shrieks. “i’m doing something very nice for you! be grateful!” 

“i am,” you say as you rush to open the door for him, and he quietly thanks you. “seriously, you don’t know how much this is helping me, big bro. i was about to have a breakdown trying to find a place before my old lease ended.”

“i heard,” joshua laughs. “mom called me the other week and told me to check on you, she thought you were losing it.”

“yeah, well,” you sigh, “if i had to deal with those roommates any longer i was going to.”

“so you’re looking for a place by yourself?” joshua asks as the elevator dings. he lets you go in first, reminding you of what floor to press before you respond.

“yeah, i can finally afford one, so i figured it would be nice to have my own space.”

“i can understand that,” he nods.

“you happy living with your roommates?” you ask. “not ready to give up your frat boy days from college?”

“shut up,” he says. “not all of us got good jobs right after graduation. i need roommates if i wanna live in this area.”

“and remind me of their names again?” you ask, the elevator stopping on your floor. you let joshua go first, following him down the hall and trying to remember the unit number.

“well there’s seungcheol, or cheol,” josh starts. “you haven’t met him yet, he’ll be home later.” he unlocks the door and lets you in as he goes on. “and then mingyu-”

“i remember him,” you say happily, glad to know there’ll be a familiar face here.

“and i remember the little crush you used to have on him,” joshua smiles evilly. 

“i did not!”

“hm, you sure?”

“swear on your life.”

“whatever,” he laughs. “anyway, he’s got a girlfriend now, and we haven’t seen him here for longer than a couple hours since they started dating. so you can stay in his room until you find a place.”

“oh no, i couldn’t-”

“he doesn’t mind,” joshua waves you off, your box placed ungracefully on the floor. “seriously, he doesn’t even keep his stuff here anymore. it won’t be an issue.”

“if you say so,” you sigh. “ok, one more trip?”

“nope,” joshua shakes his head before laying on the couch. “you’ve used up all your favors for today.”

“what a helpful brother you are,” you deadpan. “give me the keys. i’ll go get the rest of my stuff. alone!” 

“sounds good!” josh replies, tossing his keys to you dangerously. “don’t get lost!” 

“no promises!” you shout back, locking the door behind you as you go. you thankfully don’t have much left to bring up, so you’re able to grab a majority of your things this trip. what’s left you can get later, because you’re exhausted. now that you know you have a bed and not an air mattress to sleep on, the idea of laying down is becoming more and more appealing. only problem with you grabbing so many things is now you can’t open the door on your own. thankfully, a guy who must live here too rushes over to hold it for you, nodding when you thank him for the help. he catches the elevator for you both before it closes, sticking his arm out so the doors won’t close in on you as you bring your things inside.

“what floor?” he asks, and you start to reply when you see your floor already selected.

“oh, you’ve got it already,” you tell him, and he nods. end of the conversation, it seems, until you get to the floor and start walking in the same direction. you slow down, waiting for him to maybe turn off at a different door, but, yep, he’s unlocking the door to joshua’s apartment. you stand in the hallway stunned for a moment before you go up and knock the door, not wanting to dig for the keys now that your hands are full. mystery man comes to the door, and you stutter out a greeting.

“don’t tell me you lost my keys already,” joshua calls from within the apartment, and the man, who must be seungcheol, looks between you both.

“you’re joshua’s sister?” he asks, and you nod. he steps aside, letting you in, as he says, “sorry, i didn’t realize. i’m seungcheol.”

“i pieced that together,” you smile. “nice to meet you. thanks for letting me stay here a while.”

“no problem,” he replies. “joshua didn’t really give us a choice anyway.”

“josh you said they were fine with me being here!” you whine, looking for your brother, who pops his head out of the kitchen with a smirk. 

“he’ll get used to it. you hungry, y/n?”

“starving.”

“cheol?”

“i can eat,” he shrugs, eyeing you carefully as you put your things down. josh didn’t say his sister was hot. well, that would be weird. he just didn’t say much about you other than you’re a couple years younger and in need of a place to crash, so the fact that cheol can’t take his eyes off of you is a bit conflicting for the man. he looks away before you can catch him staring, clearing his throat before he says, “um, i’m gonna go wash up.”

“oh, can you show me where the bathroom is?” you ask.

“uh, sure,” cheol says awkwardly, walking down the hall as you follow. he points to one door and says, “that’s joshua’s room, not sure if he said that already. your’s is back there,” he points to a door further down on the right, and then to the door behind you, “that’s your bathroom. you’ll share with your brother.”

“it’s like i’m a kid again,” you joke, and cheol smiles softly. “where’s your room?”

“what?” cheol sputters.

“well is there another bathroom? you said josh and i would share this one, i’m just curious,” you go on. “sorry if i’m prying.”

“no, yeah, um, i have the master suite since i found the place for us,” he explains. “the guys let me have it as a thanks for doing all the apartment hunting.”

“it’s a nice place,” you note, and he hums in agreement. 

“ok, well, um, i’m going,” he says, pointing to his room.

“right, right, sorry,” you say, waving him off. you step into the bathroom to rinse your face off, removing some of the sweat from your long day. you head back out into the kitchen to bother joshua and he looks up as you walk in.

“so how do you like the place?” he questions, and you tell him it’s nice. without looking at you he asks next, “and how do you like cheol?”

“he’s a little awkward, actually,” you reply. “you sure he’s cool with me staying here? i won’t be here long, if it bothers him.”

“he’ll be fine,” josh waves you off. “he may just be tired. looks like he was coming back from the gym so he’ll be better after his nap and a snack. he’s like a toddler.”

“noted,” you laugh. “you need help with anything?”

“nah, you can start unpacking your stuff,” josh says. “i’ll call you when the food’s ready.”

“joshua?”

“yeah?” he asks, turning to look at you. 

“thank you for letting me stay here. really.”

“anytime,” he smiles. “just remember we share a bathroom again, so no long ass showers.”

“way to ruin the moment,” you laugh. 

you end up going back to “your” room to change, putting some of your clothes away in mingyu’s empty dresser. he really must spend all his time at that girl’s place, you think. you take your toiletries into the bathroom, squatting in front of the sink so you can arrange them among joshua’s countless bottles. as you’re balancing and trying not to knock over something in an expensive glass bottle, cheol walks down the hallway in a tank top and sweats, water droplets still sticking to his chest. the sight of him booking it takes you by surprise, so you fall onto your ass and shake your head, clearing whatever strange thoughts the sight of a damp seungcheol were bringing to your mind. 

meanwhile, cheol joins joshua in the kitchen, opting to sit at the counter while josh finishes the noodles. he wants to say something about you, but isn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming weird. he also doesn’t have much time before you come out of your room, so cheol just goes for it.

“um, does y/n need help moving anything else, you think?” cheol offers, and josh looks over his shoulder nonchalantly.

“you can ask her,” he shrugs. “i’m tapped out for the night though, so i’m sure she is too.”

“ok,” cheol nods. he starts playing on his phone, not noticing you walking into the kitchen until joshua starts complaining about something.

“what, i can’t drink your water?” you whine back, frustrated that your brother won’t let you have one of the bottles in the fridge.

“because those aren’t mine!” joshua informs you. “they’re cheol’s, so at least as him before you take one.”

“seungcheol, can i please have one of your waters? i can get the next case if you want,” you say as you turn around, and it takes cheol a second to focus. you’re wearing an old concert t shirt (cheol is pretty sure he has that same one) and shorts that are barely there. cheol is distracted by the sight of your thighs on display and it takes his brain a second to catch up, so he nods before he really knows what he’s agreeing to.

“wait, what? you don’t have to buy more water,” he says, finally there. “have as much as you want. joshua’s just weird.”

“you’re telling me,” you say as you hop up onto the counter.

“i hate when you do that,” josh says, turning to you with his hand on his hip. 

“you know when you do that you look just like mom?”

“shut up.”

“you!” 

“oh my god!” cheol interjects with a laugh. “are you two going to bicker all the time?”

“no,” you say in unison. 

“most of the time though,” you add, and joshua scoffs.

“only when y/n annoys me.”

“am i gonna have to play referee for you two?” cheol asks. “my god.”

“sorry,” you apologize. “we’ll cut it out. right josh?”

“whatever,” he mumbles, pulling the pot from the stove. “y/n can you get a pot holder from that drawer under you and put it on the table for me?”

“yeah, hold on,” you say, moving with a quickness. “don’t burn yourself.”

“i’m being careful,” josh says softly, and cheol laughs to himself at how quickly you can go from bickering to caring for each other. you both join him at the counter, you struggling to get into the tall chair. 

“watch it shorty,” he teases, making you blush. 

“oh no, i can’t deal with both of you teasing me,” you scold. “so zip it. i’ve got little legs.”

“hm, it’s cute,” cheol says loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough that josh doesn’t catch it over the sound of shuffling bowls. he passes them out and starts serving you and cheol. “thanks man.”

“yeah thanks mom,” you joke, and josh mumbles an expletive before eating his food.

-

after eating, you and joshua were both so tired you just went to your rooms. cheol however stayed out in the kitchen, promising he would clean up. instead, he politely snoops through your things, trying to learn more about you through your boxes of junk. he doesn’t touch anything, just looks, so he doesn’t feel that bad about it. he takes note of the books laying on top of one box, jotting down the titles so he can try to find some of them later. he smiles when he sees a soccer jersey falling out of a duffel bag, and he’s about to break his no touching rule when he hears a loud, “HEY!” from the hallway. he jumps at the sound, bumping his elbow on one of the boxes and toppling books over. he whirls around to find you, clad in a baggy sleep shirt with tired eyes watching on in amusement.

“what the hell are you doing?” you question, and cheol tries to stammer out a response.

“i uh, i saw a bug,” he lies, and you nod. 

“hm, i thought josh would keep his house cleaner than that,” you judge. 

“i’m the pig in this relationship, it’s probably my fault,” cheol says as he follows you back into the kitchen. “couldn’t sleep?”

“no, i’m still hungry,” you grumble. “the noodles were my only meal today.”

“you need to eat more,” cheol scolds and you wave him off as you open the fridge.

“whose lunchable is this?” you ask over your shoulder.

“look at me,” cheol gestures. “do i look like i eat those?” you stare maybe a little longer and harder than you should, prompting cheol to ask, “find something else you like?”

“what? no,” you shake your head. “i should’ve known it was my brother’s. he lived off of these for a month when he was younger.”

“really?” cheol chuckles. “what was joshua like as a kid?”

“hm, angelic?” you say sarcastically, hopping back up on the counter like you were earlier. you start eating your lunchable as you keep talking. “he was the perfect one and i was the biter.”

“the biter?” 

“i bit so many kids i almost got kicked out of school,” you confirm. “sorry. don’t know why i just told you that. it’s embarrassing.”

“it’s okay,” cheol smiles. “you still like to bite people now?”

“only when provoked,” you say suspiciously. 

“i’ll remember that.”

“so you really don’t mind me staying here?” you ask with cracker crumbs on your lips. cheol finds that captivating, so he keeps his eyes on your lips as he responds.

“i really don’t mind,” he nods. “i’m just happy we could help. josh was worried about you for a while.”

“yeah, well, he never liked my roommates-”

“or the area you were in,” cheol says sternly. “he said it wasn’t safe.”

“oh it wasn’t,” you nod. “but it was cheap.”

“still, you need to be careful,” cheol tells you.

“didn’t know i was signing up for a bonus brother by staying here,” you tease.

“i’m not being a bonus brother, i’m simply a concerned citizen,” he says, hand over his heart. you fall silent while you finish eating, and cheol does his best to commit your form to memory. he wants you to be embedded in his eyelids when he lays down and closes his eyes tonight, and he only feels bad for a nanosecond that he feels this way about his friend’s baby sister. 

“ok, well, thank you for the company,” you say as you look for the trashcan. 

“under the sink,” cheol says, anticipating what you were looking for and keeping his eyes on you still. “all good?” he asks when you’ve thrown everything away, and you nod. “alright, well, good night.”

“night seungcheol,” you say with an awkward wave as you go back to your room. when you’re halfway down the hall you hear cheol call your name, so you turn to find his eyes smiling at you.

“call me cheol, i like that better.”

“oh, ok. night cheol,” you try again, and he happily nods. 

-

when you wake up the next morning, you hear someone in the kitchen and assume joshua must be up and about. you wrap a blanket around yourself, laughing at the fact that mingyu has a pink fuzzy blanket in his room. you make your way into the kitchen, ready to complain about how cold you were last night. 

“dude, are you rich or something? why’d you run the ac all-” you stop short, staring at cheol’s bare back. he looks back at you, hair ruffled, and has the audacity to smirk. “sorry. thought you were josh.”

“he’s still asleep,” cheol replies, and you consider just going back to your room to hide until you’re sure your brother is out here as a buffer. with his back to you still, he asks, “do you want eggs?”

“uh, sure?”

“are you?” cheol laughs, turning around to face you fully. you’re doing your best to keep your eyes on his face, but when he crosses his arms over that broad chest of his you falter. “i promise i won’t put anything weird in em.”

“that’s reassuring,” you say with a yawn, letting the blanket fall slightly as you cover your mouth. cheol sees your sleep shirt again, this time stretched out from your movements as you slept, and he wonders for a moment if it would look like that after he uses it to pull you closer and- “do you mind if i make coffee?”

“go for it,” cheol says, grateful for the distraction from where his mind was going. “machine’s over there.”

“thanks,” you mumble, half asleep still. you stand in front of the coffee maker for a moment, brain processing what you need to get first.

“you need me to find the instruction manual?” cheol asks, watching you the whole time you were standing there. 

“make your eggs cheol.”

you empty the coffee grounds that were still in the bucket, then take a fresh filter from the stack on the counter. you move around cheol to fill the pot with water, making sure there’s enough for you all to have a cup if you want. after pouring the water in, you notice you’re missing one crucial thing. you check the counter, nothing. you try the drawers below you, then the cabinets below those. still nothing. you move to the pantry and spend a moment frustratedly moving things around in search of coffee and you come up empty once again. as you turn around to look everywhere once again, you almost jump out of your skin seeing cheol so close, watching you with an amused look in his eyes.

“jesus, you scared me,” you gasp.

“i’ll wear a bell next time,” he jokes. “looking for something?”

“the coffee, where do you keep it? please don’t tell me you’re out,” you whine, and cheol just smiles. 

“you can find it on your own, i believe in you.”

“what? no, tell me.”

“and why should i do that?” cheol asks seriously. 

“i don’t know, because i’m cute?” you joke. 

“yeah, you are,” cheol says, holding your gaze, quirking an eyebrow to challenge you. you swear you would deck him if he wasn’t so handsome. you whirl around to look in the pantry again before you hear cheol’s deep voice just barely say “colder.”

you look at him suspiciously, and he’s back to cooking the eggs. he’s keeping one eye on you though, sneaking looks at you and trying not to smile at how ridiculously cute you are being so frustrated over this. he prompts you with a few more “cold”/”colder” clues before you whine in exasperation.

“but i already checked over here,” you complain, back in front of the machine. “i’ll just go get coffee, forget this-” 

you reach out to turn the coffee maker off, and cheol mumbles “warmer.” your ears perk up, so you move your hand around the counter to get a clue. finally you lift your hand toward the cabinet above the coffee maker, and cheol says you’re getting warmer. 

“hot,” he says as you finally open the cabinet, “hotter, hotter than you are, hottest, you’re on fire! be careful!” he continues, even though you’ve found the coffee and you can now finish the pot you were making. “well that took a while.”

“because someone was being childish,” you chastise him, and cheol smiles like he just won the lottery.

“but it was fun!”

-

“why didn’t you like that place?” joshua asks as you leave another perfectly fine apartment. 

“there’s no dog park,” you reply, and your brother groans. loudly.

“you don’t even HAVE a dog,” he complains.

“but i want one! i can’t have a dog if there’s no where for it to go!”

 “come on y/n, that place was nice!” joshua tries hyping it up for you. “there was so much space, way too many closets which is good for you and all your junk, and that view was amazing.”

“the view was really nice,” you concede, and josh bumps shoulders with you as you keep walking toward his apartment.

“plus it’s walking distance from me,” he smiles. “so you can bother me whenever you want.”

“that is a plus.”

“and it means you’re close to cheol too...”

“what?” you stop and look at him, and he laughs.

“i’m just saying. it’d be easy for you to visit. doesn’t matter who you’re visiting.”

ignoring joshua’s insinuations, you go back to discussing the apartment you just saw. if you wanted to apply you needed to move fast, but you were nervous. joshua listened intently as you aired all your worries, and like the good big brother he is he calmly countered each ridiculous thought with logic and only a few jokes. by the time you were walking down his hallway, you were convinced that you’d found your apartment. you grab your laptop from mingyu’s room and start working on the application, joshua peering over your shoulder every once in a while to help you decipher what it’s asking for. you’re thankful for the help, and you turn to ask him another question and almost jump out of your skin.

“jesus, make some noise next time,” you gasp, seeing shirtless cheol behind you again. he was leaning over the couch, close enough that his chin could almost lean on your shoulder. 

“whatcha doin?” he asks with a cheshire cat-like grin.

“applying for an apartment,” you inform him, and you’re not sure but you think his face falls just slightly. “do you ever wear shirts at home?”

“why, is that a problem for you?” he asks. you feel like a goldfish, closing and opening your mouth like an idiot trying to decide how to respond.

“y/n?” joshua laughs as he comes back from the bathroom to see you mooning over his roommate. “you good?”

“i’m being heckled,” you finally reply, and cheol laughs. 

“i asked if she needed help, sorry if that’s heckling now,” he says as he moves away from the couch.

“it is when your tits are out,” you grumble, scrolling back to the page you were working on. cheol made you mess up, but don’t tell him that.

“not like you haven’t seen them before, sweets!” cheol teases, and joshua looks between you both in amusement.

“you’ve been staring at his tits, y/n?” 

“no, he just never has clothes on apparently,” you defend yourself. “he was shirtless this morning when we had breakfast too.”

“you had breakfast together?” joshua asks, looking to just cheol now. he had told josh he slept in today and that you must have made the mess in the kitchen. why didn’t he say he ate with you?

“we were in the same room when we ate, yeah,” cheol nods. joshua leaves it at that, mostly because you start whining about something you don’t understand on your application. he rejoins you at the couch and cheol goes to his room, silently cursing himself for letting josh catch him so easily. he didn’t want your brother knowing he was catching feelings, so he’ll have to play it cool from now on. 

-

speaking of being cool, the boys keep this apartment too cold. after your first freezing night, you wore more clothes to bed thinking that would keep you warm. unfortunately, you don’t know where your hoodies are, so you had to make do. so when you wake up in the middle of the night shivering, you stomp out of your room to go bang on your brother’s door. just as you’re raising your fist to bang on his door, you hear cheol’s open down the hallway.

“you again?” you groan, not missing the fact that cheol still isn’t wearing a shirt. “how are you not freezing?”

“i am,” he replies, and you fall silent. “i was getting up to change the thermostat.” 

“oh.”

“and you were..?”

“gonna complain about it to my brother?” you say sheepishly, making cheol laugh.

“joshua is the one that keeps it so cold, he would just tell you to go back to bed,” he tells you as he walks toward the thermostat. “you know you technically live here. you can adjust this if you want.”

“i know,” you nod, watching cheol move it to an acceptable temperature. 

“so why didn’t you?” he asks.

“i uh, didn’t think about it.”

“no?”

“that, and i don’t...know..how to use it...” you mumble, hoping cheol drops it.

“you don’t know how to use a thermostat?” he teases with that perpetual smirk he seems to always wear around you.

“no, and at this point in my life i think it’s too late to learn,” you say. “thank you for fixing it tonight, hopefully i won’t wake up frozen in the morning.”

you try to turn and head back to bed, but cheol grabs you by the back of your shirt and pulls you toward his warm chest. he places an arm around you lightly, turning you so you’re staring at the thermostat, trying very hard to ignore cheol’s direct stare as he speaks again.

“it’s easy sweets, just push this notch,” he demonstrates, “then push the up and down buttons to change the temperature. this is good for when you want it to be cool, but if you want to clean out my wallet you can keep it a couple degrees cooler.” he finishes and turns his head back toward you again, and you notice just how close he is. you’re afraid of moving, of speaking, but cheol takes care of that for you. “any questions?”

“yeah, can you move your arm?” you whisper. 

“no,” he whispers back. “why are you whispering?”

“because i’m scared?” cheol looks at you confused. “i’m afraid you’re gonna put me in a headlock.”

“you want me to?” he laughs, finally stepping back to give you some space. “do you need extra blankets or anything?”

“ah, no,” you reply. “i wanted to find my box of hoodies but i have no idea where it is, so the blankets in mingyu’s room will be fine.”

“you need a hoodie?” cheol asks, and without giving you a chance to respond he disappears into his room. he comes out with a mound of blue fabric in his hands before pushing it into your arms. “use this.”

“no, i can’t-”

“take it,” he says firmly. “or i’ll be forced to keep you warm myself.” at the sound of that threat, you hastily pull the hoodie on before thanking cheol and ducking back into your room for the night. he stands out in the hallway, smiling to himself.

-

you’re busy for a few days after that, finally settled at your brother’s place and able to focus back on work and finding back up apartments if the other place falls through. you’re not home much, and by the end of the week joshua sits you down to convince you that you need to go out. 

“josh, i’ve had such a long week,” you start to justify. “i don’t wanna go out this weekend. i’m afraid i’d fall asleep at the club.”

“no, no, i didn’t mean anything like that,” he clarifies. “i think you need to go on a date.”

“why?” you ask, a little shocked. joshua never cared about your love life, mostly just judging from afar (and sometimes not so afar). you tend to keep that part of your life private anyway, so it’s not like you let joshua be a part of it outside of obligatory meet the partner nights with your family.

“i don’t know,” he shrugs, “i just think you’d enjoy it. i actually have this friend-”

“oh god, please don’t do this-” you start to complain, afraid josh is about to set you up with cheol.

“no, no, hear me out,” josh continues. “he’s your age, he’s sweet, he’s cute i guess, and i think you’d really like him.”

“so i’m guessing you have all of this planned?” you ask, and joshua smiles.

“be ready tomorrow at 8. he’s picking you up, and i’ll be at jeonghan’s if you want to bring him back-”

“don’t say that please,” you request, holding your hand up. “i’ll go on the date but i don’t wanna hear my brother insinuate i’m gonna have sex at his apartment.”

“i didn’t say anything, you’re the one that insinuated,” joshua laughs as he gets up, passing behind you and kissing the top of your head as he goes to his room. “you’re gonna have a great time, sis.”

-

despite not wanting to go on this date, you were nervous. you don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of this guy, because he’s friends with your brother and anything embarrassing will be brought to joshua and used to ridicule you for the rest of your life. you also don’t wanna write this guy off before you meet him, because he could be nice. maybe.

that fire is quickly put out when you actually meet the guy. his name is chan, but he claims josh and all their friends call him dino. you wanted to ask why, but you were afraid of the answer. you just smiled politely and tried to lock up quickly, hoping that the faster you move the quicker this date will be over. 

at the sound of the front door closing, cheol is stirred from his nap. he didn’t have any big plans, but he had gone to the gym earlier and exhausted himself so he thought he deserved some rest. he assumed the door sound meant you or joshua was home, but after checking he realized it was just him. he wonders for a moment if he should check on you, but he decides against it. instead he takes a shower and starts working on dinner, choosing a chill night to rest since he has the place to himself. 

meanwhile, your date is going horribly. first of all, chan was super awkward walking with you to his car, and then he didn’t speak much on the ride to dinner. oh, well, he did, except that was only his road rage coming out. you heard this man say more cuss words in a fifteen minute car ride than you’ve heard from anyone else all year. he’s said fuck more times than he’s said your name, and quite frankly you’re not confident he knows what it is. 

once you get to the restaurant, chan basically leaves you in the car. you’re not a damsel in distress, you don’t need a man to open your door for you, but it would be nice if the man you’re on a date with would at least wait until you’re out of the car to head toward the restaurant. you make it to the curb and don’t know where chan has gone until he pops out of the restaurant asking an annoyed, “you coming?”

once you’re seated, things don’t get much better. the waitress is pretty, and she’s obviously more interested in chan than you are. you’ve given up on the date by this point, but you think you can get a free meal out of it, so you keep suffering. when he’s not flirting with the waitress, chan is mansplaining to you and gesturing so wildly you’re afraid he’s going to knock everything off the table. he tries asking you questions but keeps talking over you, and when he does let you speak he either looks offended or checks his phone. before your appetizers come, you’re ready to leave.

“what did i do to deserve this?” you text joshua as you half listen to chan describe the most boring thing in the most cocky way possible. you hope joshua will respond, but there’s nothing. 

“are you mad at me? is that why you tricked me into going on the worst date of my life?” you text again, and still no response. 

“hey, that’s kind of rude,” chan says, and you can feel your blood start to boil.

“weren’t you on your phone when i was talking earlier?” you ask in disbelief, and he shakes his head. 

“no, i wasn’t. because that’s rude,” he repeats. you want to groan and slam your head on the table, but you refrain. “whatever. i’m going to the restroom, text away.”

that you do. you keep texting joshua, trying to annoy him into responding, but he stands tall. whatever he’s doing is more important that your horrible night. you have an infinite list in your mind of things that you would rather be doing right now, so you understand josh’s disinterest.

speaking of disinterest, you look up to find chan and see him leaned over the bar talking to another waitress. this time she’s way into it, hand on his arm and phone out to take down his number. you watch as he types it in, then pull out a barstool and take a seat. now you do groan, and without leaving the table you call your brother, ready to beg for a ride back home. 

“come on, pick up, pick up please,” you mumble, hoping beyond hope that joshua will be your knight in shining armor. you get his voicemail and leave behind some choice words before slamming your phone down on the table, frustrated tears threatening to fall. you’re still new to this part of town, so your brother is your only lifeline right now. you don’t trust your ability to walk home without getting snatched, and you know that calling any of your friends would mean sitting here for at least an hour while they come get you. you’re about to go hide in the bathroom when you think of one other option.

seungcheol.

you don’t know where he is or what he’s doing tonight, but you find the “temporary roomies” chat that josh put you into and call cheol from there. you start the same plea, whispering pick up over and over, but cheol answers on the second ring.

“hey sweets,” you can tell he’s smiling. “what’s going on, you and josh having fun without me?”

“cheol, hi, listen,” you start, “josh set me up on a blind date and the guy is a dick and-”

“what did he do?” cheol cuts you off, and you tell him about the car ride, the attitude, and now his interest in any woman that’s not you. “fuck him. fuck your brother too. where are you? i’m on my way.”

“cheol, no, i was mostly calling to see if josh was home-”

“send me the address, y/n,” he says firmly. “i’ll be there soon.”

he wasn’t lying. it feels like only a few minutes have passed when there’s a commotion at the door and you see cheol stalking through the restaurant looking for you. you gather your things and stand, and chan sees you out of the corner of his eye. he comes rushing over just as cheol reaches you, and it’s almost comical watching this stare down as chan gets closer.

“come on, we’re leaving,” cheol tells you, pushing a helmet into your hands.

“what is this?” you ask, eyeing chan awkwardly. 

“hey, pal, we’re on a date, so she’s not going anywhere,” chan tells cheol, and he laughs in his face. 

“sorry, pal, date’s over,” he says, pushing chan back lightly. “go back to the waitress. we’re done here.” cheol doesn’t wait to hear what other bullshit chan might try to say. instead he grabs you by the wrist and guides you out of the restaurant to a motorcycle propped up outside. he looks at you smoothly and motions to the helmet. “i said put that on, doll. can’t ride without protection.”

“o-ok,” you stutter, placing the helmet over your head delicately. cheol stops you and turns you toward him, clicking the helmet into place under your chin, feeling his fingers on your neck sends a tingle down your spine, and you do your best to ignore it. 

“there you go,” he whispers, satisfied with his work. he grabs your head in both hands and playfully shakes you from side to side, smirking as he says, “quick road test, sorry.”

“cheol, you’re crazy,” you laugh, thankful for the distraction. “i didn’t know you drove a bike. this is cool.”

“glad you like it,” he says as he hops on. “now come on, let’s go home before i go beat that loser up.” 

you carefully and tentatively hold onto cheol’s shoulder as you sling your leg over the seat, sliding down accidentally so your chest is pressed firmly to his back. you grab onto his other shoulder and wait, thinking cheol will leave any second. 

“can’t hold on like that,” he seems to whisper, looking at you over his shoulder. “you’ll fall off.”

“well i don’t wanna bother you-”

“please,” you hear him scoff, and then he’s pulling your arms down to his waist. he even takes the liberty of lacing your hands together over his stomach so it’s easier for you to hold on. and suddenly you feel very warm. you can feel the outline of his muscles through his shirt, and being so close to him is getting you drunk off of whatever shampoo or cologne he’s wearing. 

“cheol,” you say before he kicks off, and he’s looking back at you again. “i’m sorry about this. thank you for coming to get me.”

“anytime,” he says sweetly, his eyes flicking to your lips briefly. “now hold on tight.”

before you know it, cheol is kicking off and zooming down the near empty street, ripping a scream of surprise and joy out of you. you thought you’d be petrified right now, but this is actually exhilarating. you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline of the motorcycle ride or the proximity to cheol, but you almost feel lightheaded. you’re shrieking and laughing like this is a rollercoaster, and there’s a smile plastered on cheol’s face as he listens. 

when you get to a red light, cheol slows down and instructs you to keep your feet up as he places his firmly on the ground. he looks back at you as best he can and asks, “having fun?”

“this is incredible,” you smile. “do an extra lap. i don’t wanna go home yet.”

“yeah?” cheol asks happily, and you nod.

“wait, unless you had plans!” you say. “oh my god, cheol, i’m so sorry, i didn’t even consider that you might have been busy, oh god. i should’ve asked, i should’ve-”

“stop talking,” he tells you. “i’m glad you called. i’d do this for you every day of the week if you needed it.”

“thank you,” you say meekly as cheol revs the bike before carefully driving again. you ride and listen to the sound of the city get whipped by around you, watching the lights and realizing how much you’re enjoying yourself. you lay your chin on cheol’s shoulder and think about the butterflies in your stomach, noticing that they’re going more wild now than they ever have before. 

when you get back to the apartment, you’re immediately met with the smell of food. you’re about to cuss joshua out, assuming he had been home this whole time, until cheol walks ahead of you into the kitchen and asks, “did you get to eat on this horrible mistake i just saved you from?”

“hey, whoa, i was doing this because of my brother,” you say defensively. “it wasn’t my mistake, i was bamboozled.”

“you could’ve said no,” cheol shrugs as he leans against the doorway. then he holds your gaze and asks, “why didn’t you say no?”

“i-i don’t know,” you reply, turning away because cheol’s stare is too heavy for your right now. “i guess, yeah, i did it because i thought it would make josh happy since he set it up, but...i don’t know. it would be nice to have someone, i guess.”

“to have someone?” cheol smirks, taking a step or two closer to you.

“yeah, like have someone be mine,” you say shyly, looking up to find cheol closer than you expected. he stands in front of you, smirk hanging off his lips, arms loosely crossed over his broad chest. 

“you have me,” he says, moving so close to you that you can feel his breath on your lips. he holds your gaze, waiting for you to make a move. awkwardly, you lean in, lips almost brushing. you get nervous and try to back away but cheol quickly grabs you by the chin and whispers, “and i’ve got you” before connecting your lips. your hands fall to his chest, obliviously rubbing your hands over his muscles. his touch to your chin stays gentle but firm, holding you in place so he can devour your lips. you’re breathless quick, but you don’t want to pull away. the sound of keys in the front door scare you out of your daze, and you separate from cheol like you’ve been shocked. joshua walks in, unaware (or is he?) of what he just interrupted. pleased with himself, he looks from you to cheol and back to you before asking, “so...how was your night?”

-

you’ve been avoiding cheol. you can’t believe you kissed him, and you can’t believe you liked it. you liked it so much that you’re afraid of what might happen if you’re around him again, because nothing can happen. he’s your brother’s best friend! it’s like reverse bro code to date your brother’s friend. that would be...weird? and yet here you are, daydreaming about it. 

cheol knows what you’re doing. he knows you’ve been spooked, and he’s annoyed. now that he’s had a taste of you he only wants more, so you hiding from him when he’s out of his room or only leaving yours when he’s in the shower or asleep is really getting on his nerves. you can’t avoid him forever, but damn it if you’re not gonna try. 

you’re currently speedrunning all of your chores, trying to clean the bathroom while your laundry is on and in between you’re washing all of your dirty dishes. you’re doing this because you know cheol will come out of his room soon to go to the gym, so you’re hoping to be tucked away safely in your room before that happens. however, the biggest man in the apartment still manages to move like a mouse, so you turn around to put some plates away and find cheol leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you intently. 

“fuck you, stop sneaking up on me!” you shriek. “i’m serious about that bell now. wear loud shoes or something, god.”

“why, so you can hear me coming and hide?” he asks seriously, and you fall silent. you join him on the other side of the room, stretching to put the plates in the cabinet. cheol keeps watching, realizing this is the first time he’s seen you show so much skin. shorts pulled up just barely over your ass, like usual, driving him insane, like usual. but now you’re just wearing a sports bra on top, and cheol doesn’t miss the way you’re giving him the perfect view of your chest. he’s unapologetically staring, and without facing him you mumble telling him to stop. “i can stare if i want.”

“well can you stop, please?” you beg, turning and crossing your arms over your chest, just pressing your cleavage up more. 

“baby, work with me here,” he groans. “you can’t kiss me like that the other night and then hide from me. and you can’t look like that and not expect me to stare.”

“stop telling me what i can and can’t do,” you grumble, trying to remember what you were about to do. you start to walk away but cheol grabs you lightly by the wrist, and you ask nicely, “let me go.”

“you can leave,” cheol encourages. “i’m not holding on tight.”

but you stay right where you are, a few steps away from cheol. his hand slides down from your wrist to lace his fingers with yours. he squeezes your hand sweetly before tugging you back in front of him, a stupid smirk gracing his handsome face. 

“hi beautiful,” he smiles, making you blush. “so tell me. am i a bad kisser or something?”

“what?” you ask, shocked he would even think that. “n-no, why?”

“well,” he sighs, hands sliding around your waist too quick for you to object, “it’s just that we kissed, and i thought it was pretty sexy, and then you just disappeared on me. which is amazing considering we live together right now.”

“i’m good at teleporting,” you joke, and cheol pinches your hip. 

“answer me, y/n,” he tries again. “why are you hiding?”

“because you’re joshua’s friend,” you say with a face. “i can’t date you.”

“who said anything about dating?” cheol smiles. “we’ve got two beds, sweets. take your pick.”

“you can’t be serious.”

“you don’t want to?” cheol asks, seemingly dragging you closer to himself. he slots his leg between yours, leans in close and asks, “so if i check your panties right now, they wouldn’t be wet?”

“cheol, i-”

“hm?” he asks, pulling back enough to look right in your eyes. “you don’t want this, just say the word and i’m gone. but if you do, baby, please let me do this.”

“joshua can’t know,” you whisper fast before you’re grabbing cheol and kissing him again. his hands slide from their spot on your waist to cup your ass, nudging your core over his thigh. you whimper at the slight drag, and cheol tenses his thigh as he brings your hips forward again. 

“i don’t even need to put my hand down your pants to know you’re wet,” he says proudly. “you ok with soaking my thigh a little bit first, baby?” you nod, and he tsks. “you need to use your words. not gonna do anything unless i know you want it.”

“let me keep going,” you say breathlessly, and cheol easily obliges. he dives back into your lips, hands gripping your ass to keep you grinding over his thigh. you get lost in the pressure between your legs, but you don’t want to be interrupted like you were last time. you try to break from cheol’s lips but he brings a hand up to keep you in place, doing his best to memorize the shape of your lips with his. you realize you need to get his attention a different way, so you reach down to cup his cock through his shorts. he hisses at the contact, lips pulled from yours. “cheol, stop.”

“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, worried. 

“let’s go to my room,” you say with a nod, and his eyes shimmer with lust and a bit of glee. he’s dragging you down the hallway with him, doing his best not to tear your clothes off and leave a trail. once he’s in your room, you push him back lightly so you can be sure to shut the door. cheol takes this time to lay back on your pillows, patting his thigh to invite you back. you join him on the bed, ready to straddle him and go back to grinding down on his stupidly thick thigh, but he stops you. 

“shorts off,” he instructs, and you pull them off eagerly. “let me see your panties.” your legs on either side of his, you sit up and lean back, hoping cheol gets what he wants. he hums and nods when he sees the wet patch, grabbing for your waist to pull you back over his leg. “let’s get you warmed up a little more, need you ready to ride me soon.”

cheol brings your core back down to his thigh, guiding your movements as you whine on top of him. you’re not sure what to do with your hands, so you let one of them wander up to push your bra over your chest, playing with your nipple as cheol guides you agonizingly slow. you try to bounce and get more friction but that makes him hold you down tighter and your whines get louder. 

“that’s it baby, show me how pretty you are when you come and then i’ll give you my cock,” he growls out, a hand slipping down to push past the waistband of your panties. he swipes a finger down to play with your clit and he moans when he feels how wet you are. “all this for me, pretty girl?”

“yes, for you, just like that,” you moan, “make me come please, need to come.”

“you can come,” cheol coaxes. “just waiting on you.” he applies a little more pressure over your clit, and then you’re shaking above him, a soundless gasp left on your lips. as you try to blink away the spots in your eyes, you hurriedly help cheol get undressed, crawling down to his cock before he can stop you. you pull his boxers down as he takes his shirt off, and you gasp when you see his size. you grab him by the base and take a taste, kitten licking his tip and driving him crazy. he wants to wrap his hands in your hair and guide you over his cock, but an equal part wants to pull you up just so he can feel your pussy clenching around him. he lets you decide the pace though, hissing through his teeth as you keep licking him, until you’re ready to swallow his cock little by little. you get halfway down before you need to pull back, and you’re worried he won’t fit. 

“not to feed your ego or anything,” you say after popping off of his cock, “but you’re really big.”

“no that definitely feeds my ego.”

“i don’t think you’re gonna fit,” you say, worried. 

“well get in my lap and we’ll find out, sweets,” he says, reaching for you to help you up and over his legs again. he holds his cock still for you as you line him up with your entrance, and you glance at him one last time, still concerned. “take it slow. i know you can do it.”

“but-”

“baby, i’m letting you pick the pace,” he laughs. “if it were up to me i would’ve slammed you down on my cock already.”

“hmm someone’s horny,” you joke, and cheol thrusts up in retaliation. you gasp at the feeling of his tip at your entrance, and you do what he says. you take it slow, holding your breath as you feel him stretch you out with every inch. 

“how you feeling baby?”

“good,” you gasp out.

“make sure you breathe,” cheol reminds you, and you nod as you take a few deep breaths. he can feel every movement on his cock, and it’s driving him insane to not be fully inside you right now. he tries to push you down a little further, but you cry out and he stops. he gives you a moment to adjust, and you move on your own when you’re ready. you keep pushing down, taking more and more. “you’re doing so good baby.”

“it’s too big,” you gasp out, looking down to see how much you have left to go.

“no it’s not.”

“but it is,” you whine, trying to pull up completely. that’s the last straw for cheol though, because he grips your hips and slams you down over his cock, your clit even grinding over his pubic bone slightly. you shudder at the feeling, shocked speechless at the feeling of cheol’s cock so deep inside you. he helps you ride him at first, but you take over and start a steady pace. you don’t think you’ve ever felt someone this deep before, and your body feels like it’s on fire. 

“you can take it, that’s it,” he encourages, and you pick up the pace. cheol starts meeting you halfway, adjusting so he can hit your core just right. when he thrusts up and you almost fall over on top of him he knows he’s found the right spot, doing his best to keep his pace steady. he pulls you down so you’re caging him in, and he lays your head on his chest as he takes over, thrusting into you so fast you start seeing stars. you’re moaning into his chest, maybe drooling a little too, and it’s driving him insane. you feel so good around him, so warm, so tight, so wet. the sounds of your pussy are embarrassing to you and intoxicating to him, he wishes he had the patience to lay between your legs and lick you clean before fucking you again. but he’ll save that for later. for now, he needs to find a place to come. “where do you want me?”

“stomach,” you mumble into his chest, sitting back up with your hands on his pecs. “gonna come?”

“if you come first, yeah,” cheol nods. he focuses on bringing you closer, grabbing one of your hands off his chest and guiding it to your lips. you open, and he tells you to suck. after you’ve wet your middle and ring finger, cheol brings them down to your clit, leading your movements and applying pressure as he wants. it’s so sexy, letting him lead you like this, and the way he’s staring at you is making your chest tingle, and his cock is still buried deep inside you as you start getting closer. when cheol pulls you down with his free hand, connecting your lips again, you start to come, whimpering into his mouth as the waves crash over you. he works you through it, giving you only a second or two to rest before he’s pumping you again, chasing his own release. he pulls out and immediately starts stroking his cock, coming with a quiet gasp. you shudder as you feel his come land across your stomach, some even hitting your pussy lips. you lean back to let him see his masterpiece, and cheol looks pleased. 

“let me get a washcloth,” you mumble, moving to get up. once you’re off of him, cheol springs into action, guiding you to lay back down. 

“no, you’ll be sore soon, let me do it,” he says before ducking out of your room. he comes back with a wet washcloth and waters for you both, which you take graciously. he cleans you up carefully, and then he joins you back on the bed. the last thing you remember before falling asleep is cheol pushing your hair back, smiling at you softly.

-

you wake up the next morning to a knock at your door, followed by another louder knock.

“what?” you groan, rolling over to face the door just as joshua pops in. 

“morning to you too,” he yawns. “i’m getting breakfast. text me what you want.”

“mhm,” you yawn in reply. “close my door.”

josh leaves without doing what you asked, and there’s a beat of silence before you hear the front door close. you feel hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into a strong, warm, bare chest. cheol pops his chin onto your shoulder, cheesing as he asks, “you think he knew i was here?”

[project-discipline-2024]

Week Three : Forgiveness and Peace

For the past two weeks, I've been struggling with my relationship with my mom. She always gets mad at me and my sisters. We try to share our opinions and decisions with her in a calm manner; however, she sees it as answering back and being disrespectful. We have come to the point where my sisters and I, against my mom, exchanged a lot of painful words because we were at the edge. We regret moving back here, and my mom sees us as ungrateful and blasphemous. It hurts us to the core, hearing painful words from our own mother. We decided to move here just to be with her, and yet that's how she sees us. Because our opinions and decisions don't match with hers, we become the ungrateful and blasphemous ones.

It has been a family struggle since my dad is far away and not fully aware of our situation. My mom has cheated on him so many times, and as their children, it's just unacceptable. Despite my attempts to forgive my mom, she keeps on repeating the same mistakes. I think my dad knows about it too, but he refuses to believe it. Maybe love is truly blind.

Before my dad celebrated his birthday, he tried to fix the situation because, for him, family is the only treasure he has. Seeing how miserable all of us are at home breaks him into pieces. We tried to talk it out, and fortunately, we all humbled ourselves and tried to forgive one another.

This is another chance to make up for all of our shortcomings. I've learned that having too much pride can ultimately cause harm to the family, and family will always be the most important thing at the end of the day. I just hope that everything will fall into place for us. I hope my mom sees and focuses on us too, for the goodness of our family.

I couldn't keep up with my exercising because, really, I was out of focus since then. I hope I can find time to focus on my health. However, I was able to focus on my mental health this time. I hope I can manage my emotions and thoughts on the difficulties to come. I hope I will be strong enough to face another challenge.

It was really a hard week for me. It was so hard to focus on everything because my mind was really clouded, and I couldn't think straight and focus on my work. I kept ranting to my boyfriend, thankfully; he was really patient with me all the time. He listened attentively and comforted me. I hope I didn't give him too much negativity. I don't know how to thank this guy for being my best friend and my go-to person in this difficult time. He has his struggles with work as well, but he still manages to comfort me. His work isn't easy to deal with because he was assigned to different projects and tasks, which is really hard for a developer. Not to mention, he is doing dual jobs. I can only imagine how hard it is for him. But he happens to be amazing, jolly, and uplifting most of the time, and I'm thankful to GOD for bringing peace (Don) to my life. I thought only home could be found in a person; now I learned peace can also be found in a person too.

I remember him not even trying to lighten my mood when I was not okay. It comes naturally to him like magic. I will always love this guy, and I would do everything in my power to prove it to him. He too deserves the very best in the world, and I always pray for that because he deserves it. I saw how pure and beautiful his heart is. God knows how kind and beautiful this person is.

I hope for the days, weeks, and months to come; my boyfriend and I will be able to be courageous in all of the adversity and trials we have to face. May we be successful in all of our endeavors. As his girlfriend, I want to support him in all he wants to be so he may be able to get whatever his heart desires. I pray for all the goodness this year. May GOD bless us both.

Looking forward to our adventure next week!

Fighting!! <3

[andswarwrites]

Day 15

Officially halfway through the month.  I have a few thoughts on friendship and relationships that I would like to share.  I didn't figure out until young adulthood that I am introverted, because I'm a people person with a friendly personality (mostly) and everyone assumed I was an extrovert.  My family thought I would thrive in the hospitality business, and there was a quaint little Inn not far from our house, and my sister worked there for a while, so my family arranged for me to get a job there.

I worked in rooms, then laundry, then waitressing, and then I was trained in set up for banquets.  The more I had to interact with other people, the more drained I was after work.  Still thinking I was an extrovert, I continued to look for work that brought me around people: I worked ever so briefly in retail, and then I got a job at a sushi place.  And then I just stopped working for a pay cheque.  Later in life I volunteered in a school library, and that work environment suited me perfectly.

I value every friendship I have, including the friendship I have with my husband.  I have a friendship with my mom, so I want my daughter to have a friendship with me when she grows up and is no longer subject to her parents' authority.  I spend one-on-one time with her, and I let her tell me what's in her head and heart without fear of judgement or reprisal.  I offer counsel, I offer advice, but I also apologize to her when I mess up.  I need to invest a lot of time in my relationships with those in my household first, and as an introvert that can be challenging.

Thankfully, both my husband and daughter understand when I ask them to go spend some father-daughter time together, and let me get some alone time.  S- has told me that the time he spends with N- driving somewhere in the car, with her in the seat next to him, helps the two of them remain close.  I think it's important that he and I get that one-on-one time, that he and N- and N- and I get one-on-one time, but also that the three of us spend time playing board games, eating a meal, going for a hike.

When I was young I had one friend.  She was my best friend.  I liked playing with other kids as well, but she was more like a sister than just a friend.  Every time I see her or talk to her, even if it's been years, there's no awkwardness: we slip right back into our natural way with each other.  She is what I call a forever friend.  As long as we live, we'll be there for each other, and care about one another.  She was my maid of honor, just as a detail.

I also have a friend who is an extrovert.  Yet she is a romantic, musical soul, expressive and sensitive, so she and I click.  I have a friend who is quite a few years younger than me, and I have another friend who is even younger than her, and yet the age difference doesn't matter.  I have friends who are around a decade or even two older than I am, and I have a dear friend who is around the same age as my mom.  The point I am trying to make is that each of these friendships are distinct, unique, precious, and if I'd made an arbitrary rule that my only friendships could be with people one or two years different in age from me, I would have missed out.

Not all of my friends have kids.  Those of my friends who do have kids are at a different stage of parenting from me.  I find that fun, honestly.  My friend whose kids are all grown up can give me advice for the stage I'm at, and when I'm with my friends whose kids are younger than N-, I can enjoy and reminisce on how it was with N- when she was that age.  And when I am with my friends who are either single or just not at that stage in their life, they befriend N- as much as they befriend me.

A few weeks ago I walked about 20 000 steps in one afternoon.  I walked over to a fellow introvert's house.  I texted first, to check that it was not a "hermit day" as she calls them.  It was, but she was okay with me coming by anyway, so I walked over, and we went for a little walk together, after sitting and sipping a tea and chatting.  I left her place and I wasn't quite ready to go home, so I walked all the way over to a park by the water, the park I used to walk to on a regular basis when we lived in the area.  It was a nice afternoon.

I've figured out that when I feel isolated, wishing that my friends were reaching out to me won't do any good.  That's when I need to send a text, or even just share a meme.  That may seem small, but receiving a reply or even just a laughing emoji will help me to feel connected to my friends again.  And receiving an impulsive text from one of my friends at some point in the day brightens said day incredibly.  And yes, we do like making plans, but I can't handle groups of more than eight people in my home.

The noisier and more crowded a place is, the less likelihood I can cope with it.  That's why corners are my friend, and if you see me lingering next to an exit, that means I am ready to bolt.  If I'm outside, I'm having a hard time and I need a few minutes to recover.  I know parties are supposed to be fun, and for most people they are, but what makes them bearable for me is to endure them with a fellow introvert who will seek out a quiet corner with me, so we can just chill and talk (while she knits (you know who you are <3)).

[unfoundhoney]

mother, father, and everything else ↠

↠ platonic!c!tommyinnit x older sister!reader ; fluff , angst

↠ masterlist

↠ a companion piece to a sister’s sacrifice inspired by this tiktok

“Tommy, come on,” you call.

You pull your youngest brother’s attention away from the strings of the apron he got distracted by. He toddles over to you as quickly as he can, reaching up and asking to be picked up silently. He started walking early and go the hang of it quite quickly. However, in talking he’s a bit of a late bloomer, nearing fifteen months but yet to say his first words.

You lift Tommy up into your arms, carrying him out the back door and into the backyard. You set him down to play in the grass where you can keep an eye on him then walk over to the array of clotheslines strung up across the yard, beginning to hang up laundry.

Wilbur is off playing with Niki as usual. He’ll likely return covered in dirt and grass stains, maybe with a captured insect or stories of a new, made up kingdom he’d been ruler of that day. Phil is still out with Techno; they’ve been gone for a while now, but that’s nothing new.

You’ve hung up a pair of Wilbur’s pants and two of Tommy’s shirts when you notice Tommy crouched beside the basket full of wet clothes. He reaches inside and pulls out a sock, squeezing it curiously.

“Do you want to help, Tommy?”

Tommy looks up at you, blue eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He nods his head once.

You giggle and ruffle his hair, “Alright, c’mere.”

You lift Tommy up again, resting him on your hip as you grab a clothespin with your free hand. You slip it over the clothesline.

“Put the top of the sock in the pin,” you tell him.

He struggles a bit, little hands still uncoordinated at his young age. He does eventually position the sock where you can close the pin on it and leave it to hang.

“Wow, good job, buddy!” you say.

You wrap him in a hug and spin around, shrieking laughter falling from his mouth at both your actions and your praise. You set him down and kneel down to be at eye level with him.

“You’re my official laundry assistant,” you say seriously. “Can you hand me clothes to hang up?”

Tommy nods eagerly and toddles over to the basket of wet clothes, grabbing a shirt from the top of the pile. He holds it above his head as he runs back over to you, holding it out.

“Good job, Tommy! We’re quite the team, you and I.”

Together, you and Tommy slowly hang the rest of the clothes up. Tommy eventually gets bored and goes off to pick dandelions and pull off their petals, leaving you to finish the chore, not that you mind. When you’re finished, you call Tommy over to get in the basket, carrying him and the leftover clothespin back inside.

“Y/N!”

The call of your name pulls you to a stop, turning to see who yelled for you. Tommy grabs onto your pant leg for balance, stopping as well. You find Puffy waving at you, hurrying over to you with her little boy Dream at her side.

“Hi, Puffy,” you say. “Hi, Dream.”

“Hi,” Dream says in a small voice.

“Tommy, can you say hi?” you ask the young boy clinging to your hand.

He’s chewing on his thumbnail, looking up at Puffy warily before hiding his face in your leg.

“Guess not,” you laugh.

“How are you, Y/N? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Puffy says.

“I’m good,” you answer. “Just getting some dinner for tonight.”

“Still the household cook, I see.”

“And just about everything else.”

You laugh and Puffy joins you, but you can tell that wasn’t a joke that went over her head. It’s no joke that you are mother and father to your younger siblings, as well as everything else. Your dad is gone too often; Wilbur doesn’t even call your father “dad,” he calls him Phil.

“Where’s your dad?” Puffy asks.

You shrug, “Around.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

You hesitate for too long, distracted as you attempt to remember the last time Phil came home.

“That hardly matters,” you brush off, “He’s busy doing important stuff and I can look after Wilbur and Tommy myself anyway.”

The look of concern on Puffy’s face is not missed by you. You do, however, elect to ignore it.

Dream tugs on Puffy’s sleeve, “Mom.”

“Yeah, buddy?” Puffy asks, leaning down.

Dream points into the market, where you see Sapnap with his father and his friend George.

“Go say hi, but don’t wander too far,” Puffy tells Dream.

When she turns back to you, keeping one eye on her son, you say, “I’ve gotta head home. Need to make dinner and all that.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puffy says. “I’m here if you ever need help. Or someone to talk to. Or... anything really.”

“Thanks, Puffy.”

You don’t notice at your side, Tommy trying to form the word that Dream used that so quickly got his mother’s attention.

“Look after yourself, Y/N.”

“I am.” You always have.

With a wave, you turn and head back home, Tommy walking slowly beside you. The walk from the market to your house takes about fifteen minutes and you end up carrying Tommy for most of it to speed things up.

When you arrive home, you find Wilbur and Niki sat in the front yard playing a hand clapping game. They stop when they spot you, jumping up and running to come meet you as you walk up the front path.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Wilbur shouts your names repeatedly.

“Will! Will! Will!” you mimic.

“Can I spend the night at Niki’s?” Wilbur asks.

You like Niki. She’s sweet and a good influence for Wilbur.

“Uhm, as long as her parents are alright with it,” you say, doing your best to sound like a grown up despite only being sixteen.

“We’ve already talked to them,” Niki tells you.

“Alright, then,” you concede. “Behave while you’re there.”

“I will, Y/N!” Wilbur says, running off with Niki.

You watch them go for a few moments until you’re reminded of the toddler sitting on your hip. Tommy squirms around, wanting down. You set him on the ground and walk with him inside.

You set him up with some paper and crayons at the kitchen table. You sit across from him, watching as he carefully looks over his color options before choosing the red crayon.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, bud,” you muse.

You pet Tommy’s hair before you stand, moving to start on dinner. You season meat and chop potatoes, humming to yourself and keeping an eye on Tommy. Thankfully, your youngest brother isn’t a picky eater, which makes meals a lot easier than they could be, especially since he’s been in the solid foods stage for a while now.

The rest of the night is fairly quiet. You and Tommy eat dinner then you do the dishes while he waddles around the living room and plays with some of his toys. You can hear him experimenting with running, his footfalls surprisingly loud for such a small human. You hear him fall, as well, but without any crying then the return of his heavy footsteps, you don’t go to check on him.

You start composing your next shopping list and check the calendar for any upcoming events. There’s a festival next week that you’re meant to chaperone Wilbur and his friends at. Maybe you can team up with Puffy so Tommy can play with Tubbo, and Dream can join Wilbur. You’ll ask her tomorrow.

You hear Tommy enter the kitchen. He waddles over to where you sit at the table and crawls into your lap. He grabs your free hand and starts playing with your fingers as you continue writing down what you’ll need for your bigger grocery run in a few days.

“Mom.”

You freeze.

What?

“Mom.”

You look down at Tommy.

He looks up at you, “Mom.”

“N-No...,” you say weakly.

“Mom.”

“No, I’m not your mom.”

“Mom.”

“No...”

“Mom!” Tommy says happily. “Mom mom mom!”

“Okay, okay,” you say shakily, putting a hand gently over your little brother’s mouth to get him to stop. “Okay, good job.”

Your vision’s blurry. You want to cry. Your chest hurts. But right now, Tommy’s said his first word.

“Good job,” you repeat.

You pull Tommy into a hug and wipe at your eyes behind his back.

Tommy rests his little cheek on your shoulder, already tired but quickly drifting off to sleep in your warm embrace, “Mom...”

“Shhh,” you say, voice weak.

Tommy goes limp, asleep in your arms. As your tears begin to fall, you make sure not to let your sobs move you. How has this happened? Mom. No. You’re not a mother. Except you are. In every way that matters, you are Tommy’s mother. You’ve raised him ever since Phil brought him home that day.

You wish your family was normal. As normal as a family of four adopted children, a single father, and a non-biological uncle could be. You wish your dad was home more. You wish you didn’t have to be the only parental figure Tommy has ever known. It’s to the point he calls you mom. How could Phil let it get to this? How could he care so little?

You just want to have a normal family with parents who are adults and kids who are allowed to be children. You did not get to be a child, but Wilbur and Tommy will. You will always be there for them. You promise. You will give them what you had taken from you. Hatred for your father burns in your chest but it’s quickly snuffed out, doused by nostalgia that longs for a childhood you never had.

[strangerthingfanfic]

A New Start: A Billy Hargrove Story

Nov.12, 1984: one week after the showdown at The Byers House

Billy Hargrove sat in his blue Camaro and finished his sandwich.

His stuff covered the backseat as well as the trunk.

His dad had kicked him to the curb when he heard what happened. Thankfully Billy had some money tucked away and got a room at a cheap but crappy hotel right outside town.

The plan was to come into town, get some fuel for the road and then head back to California. His friend said he could crash there and had a job lined up for him at a local resort as a lifeguard.

Billy loved the water since he was young, especially on a surfboard but his dad didn't care for him to be happy, ever and neither did his stepmom or sister either for that matter.

Throwing the sandwich wrapper in the little garbage can on the passenger side Billy started up the Camaro.

Just as he flipped off the little town in front of him he saw a familiar face starting to cross a street across from him.

It was Lucas Sinclair, his sister's boyfriend. He was with some younger girl who must be his younger sister.

He switched the car off so he wasn't seen and watched as the two stepped out into the street without even looking because they were arguing about something.

The sound of the engine roaring at top speed caught his attention and he looked over. The car was hurdling toward the two and he knew that the dumbass driver wasn't paying attention and neither were the two kids crossing the damn road.

The clock was ticking and Billy had two choices here, let Lucas and the kid get hit and more than likely killed or save their asses even though he knew they wouldn't save his back.

The screeching of tires and screaming caught the attention of all the other people out and about.

The driver of the car swore as sirens wailed. He was completely wasted and just hit a couple of kids. He was going to be jailed for life.

Sheriff Hopper arrived. “Hey man I didn't see them I'm so sorry” the man started pleading. “See who?” Hopper asked with a growl. “The two kids I hit in the crosswalk. Man, their blood is all over my windshield” the guy said, staring at his car. Hopper growled smelling the alcohol on him and from the blood, there was little chance the people he hit were alive.

Hopper cuffed the driver pushing him down into the police car and then slowly walked around to the front of the vehicle.

He was shocked by what he saw. Billy Hargrove was laying on the ground face first with Lucas and Erica Sinclair tucked into his body.

The kids had scrapes and were scared but they would be alright. Billy, on the other hand, Hopper saw no hope for.

Helping Lucas and Erica up after the EMTs got Billy on a gurney and covered so they couldn't see the full extent of his injuries, Hopper hugged them both.

“Let's get you two home shall we” Hopper said after both had been bandaged and given concussion tests. “Is that guy ok?” Erica asked, trying not to cry.

“Billy is probably not going to make it sweetie. I honestly don't know if he was alive when they took him” Hopper answered softly and that made Erica's tears finally flow.

“You ok Lucas?” Hopper asked the quiet kid next to Erica. Lucas just nodded but his eyes never left the gurney with the lifeless body of Billy Hargrove on it.

Nov.15, 1984: One week before Thanksgiving

Billy was still alive to the shock of the doctors but on life support. His spinal cord was busted and there was little hope for him to walk.

The brain damage was another issue. He allowed the car to hit him from behind and so the impact was great.

If he lives he probably won't be able to speak well or take care of himself. He will have to be in a care home since his parents have disowned him.

Lucas placed the flower vase next to Billy's bed as he listened to the doctors explain again to his mom they had little hope.

But Lucas knew differently. If anyone could overcome this it was Billy. He had to for the girl he loved so much, Billy had to get better for her, for Max.

Max barely left his hospital room. She held his hand and talked to him and cried and Lucas hated seeing that.

“Time to go” Lucas’s mom called and the two kids headed out. Sue went in and brushed the hair off Billy's face as she said a prayer. Kissing his forehead, Sue followed the kids out.

Nov.19, 1984: Three days before Thanksgiving

Billy opened his eyes slowly; it was the only part of his body that didn't hurt. He tried to look around but the brace on his neck wouldn't let him.

He tried to talk but the tubing attached to his mouth and face wouldn't allow that either.

He couldn't feel his arms and legs and panic started to set in. He tried to remember what happened but couldn't.

He felt the tears before he knew he was crying but didn't care. He was alone, in pain, and dying.

Closing his eyes he fell back into a deep sleep.

6 pm

Billy woke up again but this time he could move his neck a little. The room was faintly lighted and quiet except for the machines.

“I'm doomed to be alone” Billy thought as he remembered what happened. “At least if I die I might get to skip hell” he thought as he drifted back into what he thought would be eternal rest

Nov.22, 1984: Thanksgiving Day

That evening Billy was on his way back from physical therapy. He was glad no one could see him so beaten and destroyed. He walked a little on his own then fell.

He couldn't feed himself very well and his speech was greatly slurred. They had also shown him pamphlets of some of the group homes he might end up in.

He was in hell. He didn't even have to die. He fucked up and this was his eternal punishment.

The only thing he had to look forward to was whatever crap ass Thanksgiving wannabe meal the doctor would help him eat.

As he got closer he heard the sound of voices in his room. He thought he recognized some but others he didn't.

It wasn't until he heard the one voice he didn't want to, Max’s, that he tried to get up and get out.

“Billy how was therapy,” Max asked through tears while the doctor made sure he didn't leave the wheelchair. “Don't try to get up or move Billy” came an unrecognizable voice but he couldn't see who it was.

Suddenly he felt a hand in his. He couldn't mistake that hand for anyone else’s, it was Max.

“I'm so sorry Billy. I was so mad when I found out dad kicked you out and then I heard you were fighting for your life and they didn't seem to care but I do” Max said checking in tears.

Billy squeezed her hand. He didn't want to her to hear his slurred speech so he didn't talk but he could do that.

“Billy, I'm Sue Sinclair and I want to thank you for saving my children. I know that things have been tense between you and my son but I truly believe deep in your heart you're not a bad person” Sue said, placing a hand on his chest.

He heard his father's voice calling him a sissy but he didn't care and allowed himself to cry. He cried hard. Sue wrapped her arms around him and whispered “your no longer alone”.

“Thaan yoou,” Billy said allowing himself to show his weakness. Max wrapped her arms around him and said through her tears “We are going to live at the Sinclairs and they are going to make you better”.

Billy nodded and when he didn't think he could be any more surprised, Harrington brought over a plate of real turkey with all the trimmings.

“Eat up Hargrove, you owe me a rematch so you need your strength” Steve said with a smirk and went back to his plate.

“I could beat yoou in this cchaair Harrington” Billy said slyly and everyone laughed.

Lucas came over and put his hand out and said “let's make a truce. You stop hating on me because of my race and I will work on understanding the shit you were put through”.

Billy nodded and shook his hand and gently but firmly pulled him close and said “I am glad yoou and yoourr sister are ok but if yoou hurt Max in anyway I will kkil you and it won't be rrace related”.

Lucas nodded half scared and half happy. He hugged Billy and to his surprise Billy hugged him back.

The rest of the night was just everyone enjoying life. Billy let Max help him eat and was finally learning it was ok to need help.

Dec.15, 1984: Snowball Dance

Billy watched as his sister and Lucas shared their first dance and to his dismay their first kiss. He was happy for her.

He was still in the damn wheelchair and he still needed help with a lot of simple things but he was getting there.

He hoped by Christmas he would be on his feet and by summer he could help out at Hawkins pool as a lifeguard.

Feeling someone behind him he looked up and saw Patrick from the basketball team. He was a couple years below him but they hit it off and even with his father's taunts in his ears he was proud to be open with him.

Patrick kissed him and they watched the kids dance and enjoy themselves together.

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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

The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

~

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

~

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

~

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

~

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

~

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

~

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you’re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There’s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

[ravensbug]

Self-Doubt

Fandom: Legend of Korra

Ship: Lin Beifong x Reader

Request: No

Prompt: No

Word Count: 1337

A/N: Taking a well-needed break from writing a research paper to do this. Just 6 am thoughts of drunk Lin thanks to some wonderful art by @nerdycanible1 Go check them out they’re an absolutely amazing artist and writer!!

Summary: You’re relaxing in bed reading a book when Lin comes home late at night. When she comes in and just falls down on the bed you finally can smell the alcohol that she’s probably been drinking for hours. She eventually starts speaking the thoughts in her head and you reassure her that all these bad things she’s saying about herself aren’t true.

It was late at night and Lin still hadn’t come home. A normal occurrence for the middle of the week, except this was a Saturday and Lin had gone out 8 hours ago. You couldn’t remember if she said when she was going to be back, but there was worry in your mind the longer she wasn’t home.

You tried to distract yourself with the book you were reading but it didn’t help much. You were in one of the more filler-type chapters and found yourself constantly looking out the bedroom door, listening for the turning of the lock that continued to remain silent. You continued to read the words on the page although you didn’t really grasp what you were reading, your mind in a different place.

Lin stumbled up the stairs towards her apartment, vision blurry and steps slow. She’s almost tripped on the stairs four times now on her way up and the thought that she was an idiot for tripping up the stairs made her grumble. She was leaning against the wall for support when she finally got to her apartment and tried to get her keys out. Having a hard time figuring out which one was correct she just used her metalbending to open the door instead, letting it swing open in front of her.

You heard the turn of the lock, although it didn’t sound as solid as a key being used, so you knew Lin had used her metalbending to open the door. You gently put the bookmark in where you had your book opened to even though you knew you would backtrack the next time you picked it up.

You looked down the hall and into the small living room to see Lin stumbling along in the dark. A normal occurrence for anyone else in the dark but she had seismic sense and you knew that. Your heart dropped in an instant when you thought that she might be injured. Thankfully you saw no injuries when walked into the light of your shared bedroom. She groaned and covered her eyes from the light and you suddenly knew why she was acting weird. She was drunk as all hell.

Lin practically fell on the bed with another groan and you turned off the light on her nightstand leaving yours still on. You stayed silent as Lin laid there staring at the ceiling. You thought that she would have fallen asleep, but she was still wide awake and her brain was thinking of anything but kind things about herself.

In the silence, you analyzed what Lin looked like. She looked beyond tired that’s for sure. Her hair was slightly messy and her shirt was even more so. Her shirt was also unbuttoned all the way and you could see her bare skin underneath.

“Why am I still chief?” Lin blurted out. You were spooked for a moment when she finally spoke. 

“Lin…” You spoke her name softly. You also didn’t answer her question so she asked again.

“Tell me why I still have this job? I’m certainly not good at it.” Lin didn’t make eye contact with you as she spoke again.

“Lin! You’re a better Chief of Police than your mother was and that’s already saying a lot, to begin with.”

“How? Dozens of my officers lost their bending to Amon because I was careless about sending them out.” It’s like this was an argument to her, and you really didn’t want to start yelling at each other.

“Those men knew what they were getting into. It’s not your fault.” You knew no matter how many times anyone said that Lin would always blame herself for her officers losing their bending.

“What about when I lost my bending? Why do I still deserve it now? I haven’t been able to protect everyone with it.” 

“Do not make what you did seem useless. You saved Tenzin and his family even after all he put you through. That’s called being selfless, Lin. You do it all the time and everyone is thankful for you.”

Lin scoffed at your reply. “If everyone is so thankful then why did my own sister scar me for life?” Oh, she was going deep now. You knew that meant she’d been drinking for hours.

“Lin please, what Su did was out of anger and you two have been working things out. You know she feels remorse for scaring you.” Your hands were on her shoulders now, rubbing them slowly to provide a comforting presence to her.

“Yeah, but mom certainly doesn’t feel bad for leaving.” You could see tears in Lin’s eyes but she still refused to look at you.

“Your mother didn’t care about you or Su in the way she should have. You need to stop looking to her for approval or as an example.” Now you were getting angry because it was like all the things you two had talked about together and worked through suddenly meant nothing to her and all her walls had gone back up.

“Lin, love, please look at me,” you asked. Your hands were now at the sides of her head as she finally moved her eyes to look at you. You had moved closer to her so you were at her side while she was lying down on the bed.

“I still don’t understand why you’re-” You stopped her before she could finish. You straddled her waist and your lips crashed into hers, finally tasted the alcohol that you’d been smelling on her. It was strong and overwhelming but you continued to kiss her. One of your hands was holding her hair and you stopped kissing her to get some breath. “Shut up, Lin,” you mumbled, still holding onto her.

“But after everything I’ve been through, the countless times I’ve had my life on the line, why?” A tear escaped her right eye and you wiped it away quickly. You gave her another kiss before you spoke again.

“Because you are the most amazing person ever.” you gave her a quick kiss on her forehead, “And if you keep arguing with me I’m just,” another kiss on her nose, “going,” another on her left cheek, ”to keep,” another on her scars, “kissing,” another on her neck, “you,” a final kiss on her lips again.

“I love you so much Lin Beifong. Don’t you forget it.” You held her face in your hands. Lin reached and took a hold of both your hands and gave each one a quick kiss.

“I love you too,” she smiled. You saw the blush creep on her face and you couldn’t help but smirk.

“What?” she asked like she didn’t know she was blushing.

“You’re blushing, love. Don’t worry I think it’s cute,” you smiled.

“I am not cute!” she pouted.

“Oh, my bad. The mighty Lin Beifong, Chief of Police, and master metal bender can’t be called cute by her wife.” Her blush only got worse and she mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear.

“What was that, love?” you asked.

“I said only you can call me cute,” she mumbled louder so you could hear her.

“Well, that’s good. But now we need to both get some sleep. It’s almost 3 am.”

“I’ve stayed up later before,” Lin protested.

“And this is a weekend and we both deserve to relax. It’s time for bed Lin.” You were a bit stern, but you knew Lin was going to have a horrible hangover so the sooner she went to bed the better.

“Get changed though, you smell like alcohol.” You stopped her before she started to doze off.

She complained the entire time while getting changed into sleepwear until she was back in bed with you. You turned your nightstand light off and quickly got comfortable in bed. You felt Lin’s arms wrap around you and pull you close against her as you both fell asleep. You would always love Lin, no matter how many times you had to do these conversations with her.

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.6

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5

Summary: It's backstory time!

Mandatory warning since this is not a usual thing on my blog so I think a separate warning would be useful, there will be talk of past abuse and alcohol abuse.

----

"Wakey wakey," came the gruff voice from just outside her bedroom door.

It was slightly muffled but more than enough to make her jolt awake, muscle memory taking over the remnants of sleep. She only had one minute to be out the door. It was more than enough though, her routine perfected over years. Get out of bed. Put socks on. Get shoes. Grab the duffel bag. She slept dressed anyways, ready to go at any time.

Or not?

Where were her clothes?

Nevermind that she had time to put something on. Just grab a shirt and pants from the dresser.

Hurried steps took her over the plush carpet. Wasn't it supposed to be a solid grey? Had her mother swapped it for one of their fancier rugs?

That didn't matter right now. Clothes. She needed clothes. When she got to her dresser she stood there, frowning at the bookshelf that now took its place. She didn't even remember acquiring the tomes in front of her, most of them old and with unfamiliar trinkets surrounding them. That's not how her bedroom was arranged. Why wasn't anything in its place? Was Alex playing a prank on her? No, he wouldn't do that.

Time was almost up and she needed some goddamn clothes and to get out and her head was starting to spin-

"Nicole?"

Her eyes snapped back to the bed she had so hastily vacated, Cassandra looking at her concerned.

From the room's entrance came another familiar voice. Bela. "I only wanted to let you know that Daniela wants to go for a hunt tomorrow." Her eyes were averted and as soon as the words left her lips, she turned and shut the door behind her, not waiting for an answer from her sister.

Confusion mixed in with dizziness, but Nicole let out a quiet oh when she fully realized where she was. Cassandra's bedroom. They came here last night and fell asleep. And she was only wearing underwear.

She went to sit on the edge of the bed, head resting in her hands to try alleviate the fog in her brain. She probably looked like hell, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Came the uncharacteristically soft voice of Cassandra, who had moved from her spot under the blankets and was gently rubbing her back.

"Uh, nothing," Nicole replied, as if she didn't look ready to puke.

Cassandra only pursed her lips and frowned. "You looked like you simultaneously saw a ghost and were ready to fight a ghost."

She swallowed thickly and forced out a laugh. "Oh are we at "tragic backstory" relationship level now?" It was at best a pathetic attempt to change the subject and at worst annoying.

When she looked back at the brunette she was still frowning, but not in annoyance. Her golden eyes sparked with concern, scrutinizing the redhead's face and body language for any clue as to what was wrong. It sent a pang of guilt through Nicole's chest. She took a deep breath and leaned back into Cassandra's touch, trying to collect her thoughts. Where does one even begin to explain this whole mess?

"Have you ever wondered why I came here? To the village?"

"...Not really," she admitted.

Nicole took another deep breath, pulling the words from her mouth as if she were pulling out teeth with pliers.

"My dad, he…he had a bit of a weird business. We never knew the details of it, he never told any of us and we knew better than to snoop, but I do know it had something to do with drugs and was highly illegal."

Staying in one place proved itself a pesky little task, so Nicole stood up and started to collect her clothes from the floor and started dressing. Cassandra instead remained in the same spot, listening intently.

"With a job like that you make enemies by default. And that made him paranoid beyond belief. When me and Alex, my older brother, were children it wasn't that bad. Worst thing he would do was lock our bedroom doors and refuse to let us attend public school."

She narrowed her eyes at a wall, still not wanting to meet Cassandra's gaze. Now that she said it out loud, not that bad sounded pretty bad too. Whatever.

"It started going downhill when I was around…" She pursed her lips, trying to make her brain put together some semblance of a timeline. "Twelve. Yeah twelve. He came bursting into our bedrooms at 2 a.m. saying that someone with a gun had gotten into our house and wanted to kill us. We were mortified. I remember my mom holding me and Alex in the backseat crying while my dad drove us to his secluded cabin in the woods."

"And that became a habit of his. He'd have us do these drills every once in a while and then scream at us if we didn't do everything in under a minute."

"That's so fucking stupid," Cassandra spat, golden eyes gleaming with anger.

Nicole started pacing back and forth, desperate for a distraction. "Oh I know. And after a few years of this I made sure to tell him exactly how much I thought it was bullshit."

Finally coming to terms with the lack of something to do while she talked, Nicole gave up and went back to the bed. She sat down by Cassandra's side, though still avoiding her eyes.

"Do you know what getting punched in the face feels like?"

Cassandra's expression contorted into a disgusted grimace. With the hand not on Nicole's back rubbing comforting circles, she dug talons into the soft fabric of a blanket. She didn't really have an answer because frankly she didn't know. Her body reacted very differently to physical harm and the few that could hurt her wouldn't go for a stupid punch to the face. Nicole kept on talking though, not really looking for an answer.

"That shut me up for a bit. Key word a bit. When he woke me up on the night before an important test I was pissed. I just thought fuck it and went upstairs to the library. It took him around twenty minutes to find me and when he did… Well, I regretted some life choices."

"I was so done with being there in that house. Though thankfully my parents went on a business trip the next day and Alex was at a friend's for the weekend. I had the whole house to myself and decided to grab one of my mom's vintage wines and just spend the evening on the couch drinking. And that's how I became an alcoholic at the ripe old age of fifteen." She let out a humorless chuckle at the end.

That day was a blur in her mind. The only thing that she vividly remembered was Alex coming home early and finding her blackout drunk on the couch. At the end of the day though, they were both in the same boat. He just grabbed the bottle from her and started to sip away at the remaining wine. Laughing at each other's hangover the next day was the most fun they'd had in ages so it became a habit for the both of them. Every once in a while they'd go into the wine cellar, pick out a bottle and then go drink it in the attic while they pretended their problems didn't exist. It continued well into their college years. Nicole was barely able to recall doing anything during her years in med school that wasn't being drunk or studying.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. That's not where she meant to go with the story. Cassandra placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder brought her enough comfort to try and wrap it up.

"I guess in a sick ironic way my dad was right in the end though," she subconsciously shifted closer to the brunette and she wasted no time in loosely wrapping her arms around Nicole's waist.

"I was three weeks away from completing my residency when I came home from the lab, only to find my mom in a puddle of blood on the living room floor. My brother was in a similar state in his bedroom. My dad was nowhere to be found but I didn't care. It was his fault," she swallowed the lump in her throat and felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I just grabbed my documents and a duffle bag with some clothes and ran. Booked the first flight to Romania to come stay at my grandparents'. Oh except they know what my dad is all about! Told me I had an hour to get some rest and be out of their house as they didn't want any trouble with my dad's people."

"I did grab a fuck ton of my dad's cash though so at least hotels weren't an issue," her words were coming out chocked, occasionally interrupted by sniffles. She rapidly whipped a hand across her face. "Have you ever been to Braşov? Old part of the city is quite lovely."

Cassandra grimaced. She didn't want to interrupt, but seeing Nicole in such a state made something in her unbeating heart ache. She gently wiped the trail of tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on her temple from where she was sitting half behind Nicole. Then, with the softest voice she could muster, "And how did you meet Duke?"

Nicole's eyes widened slightly, apparently having forgotten that detail.

"Oh I stumbled upon his shop one day. I thought he was selling some neat stuff and he was nice so I kept coming back. One thing led to another and when I found out about a place off the map where no one gets in or out without help I thought it would be the perfect place to hide from the people trying to put a bullet through my head." Then she winced slightly. "I was also mildly tipsy when I made that decision."

Cassandra looked a little incredulous. "And he just brought you here?"

"I paid him."

Cassandra's expression turned to what could only be described as disappointed but not surprised. Then her attention went back on the redhead, glossy eyes fixated on the floor. To say she sucked at comforting others was an understatement. Daniela was far more well versed in the art of making others not feel miserable but she was nothing if not stubborn enough to try.

"Listen," she shifted to sit in front of her, hand placed gently on a wet cheek. "If anyone ever dares come near you with the intention of harming you, I'll make them regret every life choice that led them there. You're safe here." She may not be great with her words, but if Cassandra excelled in anything, it was keeping her loved ones safe. Loved one huh.

Nicole leaned into her touch, finally meeting Cassandra's eyes. There was a gentle kind of determination in her golden gaze, accompanied by a fiery rage that, for once in her life, brought comfort as opposed to terror. It came with the knowledge that it wasn't directed at her but at whoever may want to harm her.

She didn't doubt her words. Instead she shifted closer, face nuzzled in the crook of Cassandra's neck and, barely above a whisper, said: "Thank you."

[plaidbooks]

The R Drug part 4

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! I got swept up in bingos and lost motivation for it along the way. But it’s here now, and I hope you all enjoy it ❤

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Tags: alcoholism, mentions of alcohol poisoning, a lil bit of a steamy make out, but that’s it

Words: 2114

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @beardsanddetectives​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31 @objection-argumentative

Year 1:

Sonny hardly contacts you. You go weeks with nothing from him, only to wake up at 4am with a phone call and a very drunk Sonny.

“Sonny? It’s 4am here—”

“Doll…I’m so—” you can hear how his words slur, and you can also hear that he’s crying— “so sorry, doll. I shoulda neva touched ya like that—”

“Dominick, are you drunk?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, worried and annoyed at once. “So—sorry…so sorry…” and then he hangs up. You fell back onto the bed, concerned about him; Genoa was only six hours ahead of Manhattan. He was drunk at…10am. That wasn’t healthy.

Unable to fall back asleep, you shot him a text, making sure he was okay before you got in the shower. But he never responded. Sighing, you call his mom; you still had her number since Sonny called her from your phone, and you had been growing close with his parents.

She tells you that she’s worried he’s drinking away his problems, but every time she offers to go to Genoa, he shoots her down, telling her he needs time alone. You’re just worried that time alone means him sinking further and further into the bottle.

 ********************

Year 2:

You saw when your phone lit up, Sonny’s number flashing on your screen. You glanced around the precinct before answering your phone, heading for the on-call room for privacy. It had been three months since you had a drunken call from him, and you were going to lay down the law with him.

“Listen, Sonny, I can’t listen to your drunken ramblings while at work—”

“Ah, shit, ya at work, huh?” he asked, cutting you off. But he sounded lucid rather than drunk. “I’m sorry; I forgot the time difference. I just wanted ta talk, let ya know…I’m not drinkin’ anymore. Look, I’ll let ya go; text me when ya free so we can catch up…please.”

You felt bad for assuming, but with your only contact for the past year being drunk Sonny, it had become habit. “Y—yeah, I’ll see if I can leave early, okay? But don’t stay awake for me.”

“Don’t get in trouble fer me,” he replied, making you chuckle. “I’ll talk ta ya soon…and I’m sorry, fer the past year.”

 *******************

You were no longer with SVU; it had been too hard working there, especially without Sonny. But you also couldn’t deal with the stares, even from your squad. So, you transferred to Homicide instead. And your boss thankfully let you leave early.

You texted Sonny the moment you were home, and instantly he was calling you.

“First, I wanna say I’m sorry fer the drunk calls—”

“Dominick Carisi Jr. If you say the phrase “I’m sorry” one more time, I’m going to fly to Genoa and smack you,” you replied, cutting him off.

He fell silent for a moment before he let out a laugh. “Yeah, I bet ya tired of hearin’ that, huh? Well…After ya left here, I—I spiraled. Hard. Turned ta the bottle, if ya couldn’t tell. But I hit the bottom, and I’m startin’ ta work my way back up.”

“What happened? What bottom did you hit?” you asked, breathless. You were happy he was telling you all this, because you had been so, so worried. But you also didn’t want to pry into his personal life or make him uncomfortable.

It took him a moment to respond. “I…it was 5am when I woke up, shakin’ fer a drink. I remember the first three shots as I made a cocktail, and then…. I woke up in a hospital bed, my stomach pumped. I guess I dropped ta the floor when I lost consciousness, and my downstairs neighbor heard it.”

“Oh my god, Sonny! Are you okay now?” you asked, wanting nothing more than to give him a hug, hold him to you.

“Yeah, I’m good now. I had my stomach pumped and part of my liver cut out, but I’m okay. I no longa have the urge ta drink, and I dumped everythin’ I had. But please, tell me what’s goin’ on with ya; how’s life at the precinct?”

You spent hours talking to Sonny that night, even though it was getting later and later for him. He had so many questions, wanting to know everything going on with you. He vaguely mentioned that he got a job at a grocery store as a cashier, but otherwise, he was focused on you.

 ****************

Year 3:

You and Sonny talked almost every day, falling back into your habits before all this mess happened. You joked around, sent funny pictures to each other, ranted about your days; it was almost as if nothing ever happened. Almost.

From the pictures, you could tell that he was getting tanner, and he started growing out his hair and beard, making you swoon. Not that you’d tell him that; you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with you flirting yet.

But you were happy that things were getting back to normal with you two. It had been almost 4 years since the club incident, and it barely crossed your mind anymore. You had dated since Sonny was in Genoa, but no one seemed to be working for you. At least you could make out with someone without having flashbacks, so you called it a win.

You knew why it wasn’t working out for you, though; you were in love with Sonny, had been since the moment you met him. You were able to move past the club, but you couldn’t move past him. That’s why you had hated yourself so much, and that’s why you felt terrible leaving him behind in Italy. When he kissed you outside the airport in Genoa, you had thought that maybe he had felt the same way about you. Then that first year with drunk Sonny happened, and you weren’t sure about anything anymore.

You were still close with his family, too. Ma Carisi often invited you over for dinner, and you met Sonny’s sisters. You were the emergency babysitter for both Mia (who didn’t think she needed a sitter, until she met you and had fun with you) and Bella’s little girl. And Pa Carisi enjoyed having debates about laws with you, plus the odd sports talk. Slowly, you became one of the family, and you loved them all like your own.

 ***************

Year 4:

Ma Carisi called you, inviting you over for dinner once again. You accepted, telling her you’d be there in thirty. You had to park on the street with all the cars there; the Carisi girls were home for dinner, as well. You smiled as you made your way up the path to the front door, then knocked. The door opened, but instead of Ma Carisi greeting you with a warm smile, it was Sonny.

“Hey doll,” he said, eyes lit up with amusement. You froze for only a moment before you were crushing him in a bear hug. You heard the huff of air as you took the air from his lungs, but you didn’t care; you had missed him so much. You had pinned his arms next to him, so he couldn’t even hug you back.

“Doll…ya crushin’ me…” he gasped, and you finally let him go. Though, you kept your hands on his arms, not believing that he was there, in front of you.

“Are you back for good?” you asked, your voice hushed. You were waiting for him to deny it, for him to say he was only visiting.

“I’m back fer good. Already got my apartment—” He was cut off again as you hugged him, burying your face in his chest. You couldn’t stop the tears that appeared, so happy to have your best friend back. He rubbed your back, murmuring that it’s all okay now, and you had the sudden urge to kiss him. You fought the urge, not wanting to complicate things.

Instead, you ran your hands over his back, then leaned away to look at him. “Have you been working out?” It was true that he was deliciously tan, his hair coifed, and his beard trimmed neatly. He was already so much more attractive than you remembered, even with the pictures he had sent.

He barked out a laugh, a gleam in his eye. “I have, yeah. Whenever I felt the urge ta drink, I instead went to work out. I’m not a body builder or anythin’, though.”

“I’m proud of you, Sonny,” you said, and you meant it. You had gone through hell after the club incident, but Sonny didn’t have a walk in the park either. And you were glad he had found himself.

A pink tint appeared on his cheeks as he smiled at you. He took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and you swooned.

 ******************

After the surprise greeting at the front door, he brought you into the house. Ma Carisi and all his sisters gave you a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Pa Carisi patted your shoulder; the normal greeting from the family. But now that Sonny was there, too, the energy was truly alive. Everyone was smiling and laughing, having a fantastic time together. The talk was loud, happy, and energized. It was almost as if Sonny hadn’t been hiding in Genoa for four years.

After the talk had finally died down, it was time for you to go home. Sonny offered to walk you to your car, and you agreed, not wanting to leave him quite yet.

“I’m so glad you came back, Sonny. I’ve missed you,” you said as you stood by your driver’s side door.

He grinned at you. “A promise is a promise. I told ya I’d come back once I was…better.”

“And are you better? Did you date at all in Genoa?”

His smile faded, and you worried you offended him. You were about to apologize when he spoke. “I am and I did. But no one there was…it fer me, ya know?”

“Yeah…same thing here. I dated a few people, but no one felt right—the spark wasn’t there. At least I had no flashbacks; I hardly remember that night anymore, to be honest,” you said, looking into his eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

Sonny simply nodded. “Me either, really. It was so long ago…plus, I bet the drinkin’ didn’t help. But I do remember you, showin’ up outta nowhere on a random street in Genoa. Talkin’ me through the worst time of my life.”

“And I remember you, comforting me during a thunderstorm when you didn’t have to do that. Your emotions were everywhere; I couldn’t imagine the turmoil I must’ve put you through—”

“No, no, look at me,” he muttered, his warm hand cupping your cheek. “No matter what happens—in the past or the future—I wanna take care of ya, make sure you’re okay. Comfortin’ ya, it was a slice of normalcy after I thought I’d neva have that again. I needed ya there, and I’m so thankful I had ya.”

You smiled up at him, melting into his touch. His thumb stroked your cheekbone, and you felt closer to him than ever before. “You know what else I remember, Sonny?”

“Hm?”

Slowly, you leaned forward, going slow enough that he had plenty of time to pull away. But instead, he also leaned in until your lips brushed against each other. You smiled softly before you pressed your lips more firmly to his. The hand still cupping your cheek tilted you slightly, letting him kiss you a little more forcefully, his beard tickling you as he moved.

There was the spark that was missing from all your past relationships; you had felt it in the airport, but it wasn’t the right time. Now, however, there was nothing holding you back from deepening the kiss, your tongues coming together in a beautiful dance.

Sonny gently pushed you back against your car, the kiss getting more heated. Your hands went to his shaggy, luscious hair, tugging softly and making him moan into your mouth. His hands dropped to your hips, pushing you back against the car as his tongue memorized your mouth.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, both of you panting hard. You were about to suggest he show you his new apartment when he muttered, “I wanna take this slow. Please.”

You shut your mouth, nodding. You’d do anything to make him comfortable and happy. “I can do slow. As long as I have you, Sonny.”

His eyes brightened and he gave you his signature goofy smile. “Ya have me fer as long as ya want me.”

[when-they-write-stuff]

3. I just told you I liked you but now I’m shy and say “never mind, forget it” and why are you looking at me like that?

- -

IF DEREK THOUGHT ABOUT IT, he couldn’t remember the exact time he changed. 

It might have been gradual. It might have been slow, like each step of a waltz moving closer and closer to what he never wanted to become. The glow of bright blue eyes, the plumes of smoke rising into the air, the look in his sister’s eyes as they gradually bled to red. 

If Derek thought about it, he couldn’t remember the exact time he changed. It was some kind of dance, slow footsteps to the music of one thing becoming another. Act one was the mistakes and act two was the consequences. The pain, the death, and the ruin.

It was the steps— one, two, three. One, two, three, and then he was alone in the world. He was alone and there was no one left to tell him what happened next.

For a little while, at least.

It hadn’t always been like this. No, once Derek’s life had been his family, his friends, and the feeling of right, safe, and home. All of that was long before the smell of perfume on his clothes, the imprint of red lipstick on his cheek, and every horrible thing that continued to happen after that.

At some point in his life, everything changed. Derek changed.

And it was all bad until it wasn’t.

“You know what they call people like you?” Stiles asked, plopping down onto the couch at his side. Derek gave the boy a flat look, closing his book slightly, but Stiles didn’t seem to notice, shoveling a handful of chips into his mouth as he flipped on the TV. 

Derek sighed. “No, Stiles, I don’t. What do they call people like me?”

Stiles glanced over at him, eyes going from the book in Derek’s hands to his face, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Nerds.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah,” Stiles said, smirk growing. “Derek Hale, the big bad Alpha of Beacon Hills, is a nerd. Whoever would have thought?”

Derek rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his book. Beside him, Stiles snorted and returned to crunching chips obnoxiously loud, flipping to the first channel that was playing something superhero-y. Derek tried to ignore all of that, glaring down at pages. 

Once upon a time, he just would have growled or maybe shoved Stiles off the couch in retaliation. Or, most likely, Stiles never would have been allowed to hang out in his loft at all.

But it’d been a few years. And Derek didn’t feel like doing any of that. Instead, he suppressed a smirk and focused harder on his book.

Then Isaac came into the room and gave them both a strange look. “The energy in this room is so weird. What did I miss?”

Derek instantly tensed and he gave the beta a warning look; which Isaac didn’t even seem to notice. But Stiles’s scent just flared with confusion and he glanced away from the TV, giving the beta a look that was one of pure judgment. “Energy, scarf-boy? Really?”

Isaac’s eyes flashed gold. “Watch the nicknames, Stilinski.”

“Oh yeah? Or what?”

Isaac bared his teeth. “I’ll rip your throat out.”

“Oh, wow,” Stiles said, barking a laugh. “You’re as scary as a rabbit, scarf-boy. But Stilinski throat-ripping is Derek’s job, remember?”

This time, the look on Isaac’s face was one of mild horror and when he glanced over, Derek just rolled his eyes, burying his face in his book again. And his ears totally weren’t burning just a little. They weren’t.

“Yeah,” Isaac said, voice a bit smaller as he inched toward the kitchen. “Sure.”

Stiles snorted in triumph at that, stuffing another mouthful of chips into his mouth. And sometimes, Derek wasn’t sure if he was awed by how easily the boy could ignore certain things around him, or if he were slightly worried.

Maybe relieved. Relieved made more sense.

“Dude, Derek,” Stiles said, elbowing him in the side. Derek snapped out of his thoughts, giving Stiles a red-eyed look, but the boy ignored him. “This is my favorite part of the movie. Now tell me honestly, Batman or Superman?”

Derek didn’t answer, giving Stiles a flat look. But Stiles just elbowed him again, pointing toward the TV, and Derek slowly followed his gaze.

“I don’t know, Stiles. What’s the difference?”

“What’s the difference? What’s the difference?” Stiles gave him a wide-eyed look. “Oh my god, you’re the absolute worst, Sourwolf. I can never forgive you for that sentence. Did you really just say that to me?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Fine. Superman.”

“I’m so offended.”

“You wanted an answer.”

“No, correction, Sourwolf, I wanted the right answer. And that was Batman one-hundred-percent.”

Derek shook his head, trying to return to his book. Except, he couldn’t remember when he had gotten another ten pages in and Stiles was pressing up against his side much too close now, still muttering his displeasure. The boy’s scent was an unfair distraction and Derek swallowed a growl, glaring at the words that didn’t make sense anymore.

What had Isaac even meant? Strange ‘energy’ in the room?

“I need some air,” Derek said, shoving himself up. Stiles floundered to the side and shot him a look of pure confusion, but Derek ignored it. Because dammit, he couldn't think clearly and— and fucking Stiles.

“I’ll be back,” he practically growled out, grabbing his jacket and keys. And Stiles’s protests were left at his back as the door of the loft slammed.

Derek didn’t know when exactly he changed. It might have been gradual. It might have been slow.

Right now, it was fucking Stiles.

-

Stiles found him in the diner all the way across town.

Derek was honestly more than surprised to see the boy poke his head in through the door, grinning when his eyes landed on where Derek sat in the furthest booth. He didn’t even have a chance to react before Stiles was plopping down opposite him, that stupid grin still on his face.

“If you were hungry, Sourwolf, you could’ve just said something. My dad’s on a shift tonight so I’m making dinner alone.”

Derek’s chest automatically tightened at that. But Stiles didn’t even seem to notice, picking up the menu in front of Derek and surveying the options.

“And I have to point out that the curly fries at Mel's Diner fifteen minutes down the road are way better than here, but I’d still be down to split a plate. This place does have better milkshakes, though, if that makes you feel any better. Which— hey! How do you feel about ordering milkshakes too?”

“Stiles, what are you doing?”

The boy finally looked up, scent sparking with surprise. Derek clenched his jaw, holding the amber-eyed gaze, and Stiles dropped his eyes after a long moment, wetting his lips. “I’m bothering you?”

Yeah, Derek nearly said. But the word caught in his throat at the last moment and he settled for a flat look, to which Stiles squirmed under.

“I can totally go, dude. I think I’ve got… something in my freezer at home.”

“How’d you know I’d be here?”

Once more, Stiles looked surprised. But this time, a little amused too. “I had Isaac sniff you out, Smartiewolf. Then I kicked him out of the car and I’m pretty sure he’s still moping on the side of the street somewhere.”

Derek blinked. Stiles grinned.

“Dude, I’m joking. You forget that I have to keep an eye on my dad and the meals he sneaks during work. You literally come here all the time.”

“You… what?”

Stiles shrugged. “I hang out in my car around lunchtime over the weekend. My dad thinks because this place is across town, he’ll get away with it. But let’s be honest, that only worked for like, three weeks. He always looks a little too pleased when he comes home after sneaking a burger.”

“I don’t even know what to do with that information.”

Stiles’s eyes danced. “The point is, you’re always here. And I’m definitely the smartest one in the pack, Sourwolf. Besides Lydia. But I put two and two together!”

Derek stared at him for a long moment. His head spun but no words formed. But then thankfully, thankfully, someone cleared their throat to the side and his attention snapped sideways to see the waitress.

She smiled, eyes going between them. “And what can I get you two?”

Derek didn’t even open his mouth before Stiles was handing her the menu, that little grin back on his lips. “A plate of curly fries and two vanilla milkshakes.”

The waitress nodded, turning away. And as she moved back across the room, Derek turned his attention back to Stiles. “What?”

“Er… was that okay, dude?”

Derek honestly didn’t know what to say. So he just nodded and Stiles sat back, scent flooding with satisfaction. 

“Great. Cause I’m also like, seventy-percent sure my dad might attempt picking up a grease-filled meal for his shift tonight and if I can catch him in the act, then that's another victory in my book.”

“Right.”

There were a lot of things about Stiles Stilinski that Derek just didn’t understand. From the first time he’d met him— and been oh so tempted to rip his throat out— to all these years later when he was still figuring the boy out. And this was definitely one of the moments.

But sese, it wasn't the distance or the milkshakes that had brought Derek here. No, it was the memories of Cora messing with the jukebox that used to be across the room, or Laura moving around, taking orders in her waitress uniform. It was homework spread across the table in front of him while he waited for his mom to come pick him up for basketball practice.

It was the prelude before act one. All the memories of a life he’d nearly forgotten in the years that had passed.

Stiles was talking about something, but Derek was barely listening. Instead, he looked at Stiles and wondered why nothing about the boy’s presence felt… wrong. It wasn't intrusive, Derek didn’t want to flash the red eyes or rip his head off.

It was the memories of the past. The smell of vanilla and fries as the waitress came back with their order. And then Stiles, looking at him with bright amber eyes.

It was the strangest of changes.

Derek glared down into his milkshake and tried to tell his stomach to stop feeling so weird.

-

Avoiding Stiles Stilinski really wasn’t as easy as Derek had hoped it would be.

Or, avoiding might not be the right word. Derek just made sure he wasn’t at the loft when Stiles was supposed to come over. He steered clear of the boy at pack meetings and made sure to pair him up with Scott or one of the other betas during the weekly patrols. He claimed the chair furthest from the TV during pack movie nights and excused himself to bed early when it seemed like no one was going to go home that night.

But he wasn't avoiding Stiles. And it wasn’t weird.

Boyd told him it was weird.

“In three years, I’ve never been put with Stiles on a patrol,” he said. “Do you know what we talked about all night?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Boyd crossed his arms.

“The weather.”

Derek couldn’t help but wince at that. Though, to be fair, that wasn't the worst pairing choice he'd ever made. He’d put Erica and Isaac together due to separating Erica and Boyd, and that had ended with Isaac coming back to the loft with a broken tennis racket stuck around his neck. Derek hadn’t even dared ask for the story behind all of that.

“You’re avoiding Stiles,” Boyd continued, bringing Derek back to reality. “And everyone knows it.”

“I am not.”

“Even Scott knows it. And he’s generally clueless.”

Derek clenched his jaw, glaring at the opposite wall. Then, reluctantly, he swallowed his pride. “And Stiles?”

“Have you even caught his scent lately?”

Derek had been doing his best not to. Not to pay even the slightest bit of attention. Boyd sighed. 

“You should pay him a visit. And bring curly fries.”

Derek really didn’t want to do that. But before he could say anything, Boyd was walking away. And wasn’t Derek the alpha here? He scowled at the beta’s back and then slowly glanced toward the loft door, fishing the Camaro keys out of his pocket.

He was the alpha here. He would make the decision whether or not to visit Stiles— and it wasn’t like Boyd had made any good points.

One hour later, Derek pushed open Stiles’s window and climbed into his bedroom, a bag of curly fries in one hand.

Stiles was working at his desk, muttering under his breath. But the moment Derek placed a foot on the floor, he was jumping up with his pen pointed out threateningly. Except, then recognition flashed through his eyes and the boy’s shoulders slumped a little.

For less than five seconds. And if remembering himself, Stiles’s eyes suddenly flashed again and he straightened right back up.

“What the hell are you doing here, Derek?”

Derek pulled himself the rest of the way into the room and wordlessly offered the bag of curly fries forward. Stiles hesitated for a moment before taking it and giving the contents a sniff. Then his eyes flicked back up, narrowing, and he pulled the bag protectively into his chest.

“Okay, so you brought food. Is that supposed to be an apology?”

“Why would I apologize?”

The words slipped out before Derek could stop them and he instantly hated himself. Stiles clenched his jaw and Derek finally caught the scent in the room— that other than fries.

Dejection was probably a pretty good word for it. Dejection mixed with anxiety and a hint of anger.

Derek swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles didn’t say a word, still glaring at him. Glancing down at the floor, Derek shuffled his feet.

“I shouldn’t have started avoiding you.”

“What the hell was up with that?”

Internally, Derek fought the urge to turn around and pull himself right back out the window. He figured that would probably cause more problems than it would fix and he really didn’t want to have to go through this again. Ever.

“Derek—”

“I just needed to think,” Derek said, cutting him off. Stiles drew back a little, gripping the bag of fries tighter, and Derek sighed, jamming his hands deep into his pockets. “It wasn’t you.”

“It— it wasn’t me? What is that even supposed to mean, Derek?”

Honestly, Derek was still figuring that out.

“I swear to god,” Stiles said. “If this is some sort of ‘it wasn’t you, it’s me’ speech, I’m never going to talk to you again. I’ll probably be confused as hell and more than a little concerned about what’s going on in your wolfy brain, but I’ll still never talk to you again.”

That was one option, Derek figured. Then he hated himself for that thought.

Stiles stared at him as Derek stayed silent. And it was like the boy was pleading with him now; silent and strained, knuckles white and eyes searching Derek’s face for any hint of an answer.

Derek’s mind spun. Stiles’s shoulders drooped.

“Go away, Derek.”

Fuck.

Before Derek could stop himself, he took a step forward. Step one. Hands in fists in his pockets, heart thudding against his chest. It had been weeks since he’d been in Stiles’s room and it all crashed over him as familiar, and home, and right.

“I don’t want to,” he said, then hesitated. Stiles blinked.

“What?”

“I don’t want to,” Derek said again. “Go, be gone. Not be around you.”

Stiles’s heart audibly skipped a bit. Derek swallowed hard.

“I like it,” he said. And why the hell was this so hard? Pulling his hands out of his pockets, Derek took another step forward. Step two. “I like being around you.”

Stiles’s scent was anxious and confused now and the boy nervously licked his lips, not moving from the spot where he stood. Derek tried not to follow the action, gathering himself up to take one step closer. Step three.

“I like you, Stiles.”

Silence.

That’s what crashed over the room as Stiles stared at him. The urge to flee the room struck Derek the moment the words came out, and he stuffed his hands right back into his pockets, hunching in on himself.

Silence was all there was. Stiles continued to stare at him and Derek couldn’t even hear the boy’s heartbeats over the white noise filling his ears. 

Fuck.

“Never mind,” Derek said, the words suddenly spilling out. “Never mind, forget it.”

Before he could stop himself, he was turning around and heading back to the window. Forget the avoidance strategy— he might just have to leave Beacon Hills altogether. Go back to New York, find a job fixing up old cars again.

But then there was a hand on his sleeve, keeping him from taking another step and Derek froze. The window— his escape— was only a few feet away.

Slowly, Stiles pulled him back and Derek didn't fight, turning around to face him. Amber eyes and a mole dotted face.

Soft lips that were barely containing a small smile.

“Derek,” Stiles said, the smile slowly growing bigger. “Did you just say what I think you did?”

But Derek was rooted to the spot and just like that time back at the diner, all those weeks ago, he had absolutely no voice.

“Derek,” Stiles said again, stepping closer. “Sourwolf?”

“Your fries are going to get cold.”

Yeah, that’s the first thing that left Derek’s mouth.

Except, Stiles’s face just lit up and he laughed, the sound like wind chimes in the breeze. There was a new scent in the room and Derek could have melted as feelings of happiness washed over him. Stiles’s hands slipped down to Derek’s own and the boy's fingers brushed against his, before threading through them carefully.

Derek’s chest tightened and it felt so weird.

“Derek,” Stiles said, eyes dancing. “Do you know what they call people like you?”

“No,” Derek whispered. Where had his breaths gone? “No, Stiles. What do they call people like me?”

Stiles beamed, bright and wide. He tilted his chin upward before leaning forward, breaths warm against Derek’s skin. “Adorable.”

Had it been any other day, any other moment, Derek would have fought tooth and nail against anyone ever calling him adorable. But then Stiles’s lips were brushing against his own and Derek all but fell into the touch, the feeling, any rational thought leaving his brain.

Adorable. Huh.

Maybe he could be that for Stiles.

-

If Derek thought about it, he couldn’t remember the exact time he changed. 

It might have been gradual. It might have been slow, like each step of a waltz moving closer and closer to what he never wanted to become. Losing everyone he loved, turning into something he didn’t recognize. It was the steps— one, two, three. One, two, three, and then he was all alone in the world.

He'd been alone for so long.

But then one day, Stiles Stilinski took his hand. Took his hand, kissed him softly, and showed him how to dance again.

- -

A/N: so, I’m very late to these prompts, but I finally have some motivation again! I hope this prompt came out (late) but alright @jbbarnes​ <3 

[thefactsofthematter]

hi bestie <3 you said send in some requests, so i'm suggesting:

javid with, "it's not okay! you're not fine!"?

i hope you have a good day !!!

hi bestie <333 i had so much fun with this, i haven't done a short little fic in ages!! here's a 2.7k javid fic - a college au and a classic (emotional) hurt/comfort type deal, heavy on the comfort ;)

-

"Wanna come for dinner at my parents' house tonight?"

Davey is laying on Jack's couch after his last class of the day, since Jack's apartment is just off campus, and it's a ridiculously convenient place to go nap after a long day of school. He honestly spends more time here than at his own apartment that he shares with his sister, a short train ride away.

"I'd love to," Jack replies, his gaze still glued to his computer screen, "but I totally forgot I have an art history paper due at midnight, analyzing a painting, and I haven't started. It needs to be ten pages, and I don't even have an outline. I'm gonna sit here and write until my eyeballs fall out."

Davey laughs softly.

"That sucks. Do you at least have some research done?"

Jack turns to him with completely dead eyes.

"Not a single academic source."

Davey glances at the clock. Jack has seven hours to pull this off, which is doable, but... intense. It would've been a lot easier to spread it out over a few afternoons, and it'll be a painful squeeze to get ten comprehensible pages of writing done tonight. Jack can write decently fast, but his spelling and grammar are atrocious, so he'll have to factor in editing time too. Davey is not envious of these circumstances in the slightest.

"Shit. Good luck. That sounds awful, but I'm rooting for you. What's your prof's late assignment policy?"

Jack, entirely beaten down, leans forward to rest his forehead on his keyboard.

"He won't accept them past the due date without a good reason... which I don't have. I'm just an idiot and forgot to put it in my planner— thank god Romeo texted me today to ask if I was done."

Davey pushes himself up and walks over to where Jack is sitting at his little dining table, under the constantly-flickering fluorescent bulb. He wraps his arms around Jack's shoulders and kisses the back of his neck.

"You got this. I'll come back here after dinner and bring you leftovers, okay? My mom's gonna be sad you couldn't make it, so she'll totally pack up a plate for you."

"You don't have to come all the way here," Jack sighs. "Your place is closer to your parents, and this is out of your way— you have work in the morning anyways, so you should go home and go to bed. I'll be fine, I'll probably write faster alone anyways."

Davey kisses him again, this time leaning around to plant one on his cheek.

"If you're sure." Jack's plan is probably the smart move, since Davey's shifts at his stupid coffee shop job start ridiculously early, and coming here would mean staying up with Jack until he finishes, probably distracting him. "In that case, I'll see you tomorrow after work, and I'll bring the food then... keep me posted about the paper, text me when you finish. And make sure you eat something."

Jack turns back to look at him with a strained, stressed attempt at a smile.

"For sure. Go have a nice time with your family, and tell everyone I say hi."

-

"Aba, you're doing it wrong. You have to use your left arm."

It's getting late in the evening, dinner has been eaten, and Les is trying to coordinate the family to make a TikTok with him. It's not exactly going well.

"My left or your left?"

"It doesn't matter, we have the same left!"

Davey has thankfully been placed in the back row, both because he's tall and lanky, and because he's so uncoordinated that Mom used to make you wear one of those leash backpacks as a kid to keep you from wandering into traffic... which is true, but Davey isn't sure why Les even knows about that. He certainly wasn't around yet when that was the case, so he probably heard it from Sarah.

While Les tries once again to explain how this little dance is supposed to work, Davey's phone starts to buzz in his pocket. It's probably a spam call, but he's not particularly invested in the dance lesson so he pulls it out to check.

Incoming call: cowboy babyy 💖🤠

Davey frowns. Jack never calls him. It's always texts or voice memos, since he's got some kind of weird aversion to talking on the phone. If he's calling, it must be important.

"Hi babe," he says, pressing his phone to his ear and walking off to his old bedroom to get some quiet, while Les shouts at him in the background for not taking this seriously. "How's the homework going?"

Jack is quiet for a second too long as Davey toes the door shut.

"...Not great. I'm really frustrated." He pauses and sniffles a little, sounding almost like he's holding back tears. "I don't know why I called you while you're having a good time with your family, though. I shouldn't be bugging you."

"Hey," Davey breathes, "you're not bugging me at all, sweetheart. Is the paper not going well?"

"I just... I'm so bad at writing, and I don't know what I'm talking about, and I have no idea how I'm gonna get this done in time." His voice is shaking, and it's breaking Davey's heart a little. "I'm being dramatic, though. I just need to keep working on it."

Davey sits down on the edge of what's now a guest bed, his old outer space-themed comforter replaced with something more neutral.

"You're not dramatic, it's okay to be upset. Do you want me to come over and help?"

Jack's breath hitches softly, and it confirms that he's almost definitely crying.

"You don't have to, you're busy with your folks. I'm sorry for calling." He shudders a little as he must try to take a deep breath. "It's okay... I'm fine."

Davey sighs, almost exasperated with Jack's self-sacrificial sense of pride. He'll never ask for anything for himself, not wanting anyone to go out of their way for him, even when he seems to be having a panic attack of sorts.

"It's not okay; you're clearly not fine, Jackie," he replies. "We already ate, and I'm not busy. If you want me to come over, I'll be there... do you?"

Jack is quiet for a moment again, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"Yeah. I do."

Davey nods, though Jack can't see him.

"Okay. I want you to take a little break from writing until I get there, alright? Change into your pyjamas and have a glass of water. Try to relax a little."

"Okay... thanks Davey."

The call ends, and Davey rejoins his family while tucking his phone away in his pocket.

"I have to go." He kisses his mother on the head as he walks by. "Thanks for dinner, Ima."

"Is everything okay?" she asks, catching him gently by the elbow before he can get too far.

"Yeah..." he sighs. "Jack's just having a hard time with homework, I'm gonna go help him out."

His father ruffles his hair and gives him a quick hug.

"You're a good boy, David. Take him those leftovers— your mother's cooking can fix anything."

"For sure. I'll see you guys next weekend, and I'll try to bring Jack along then."

He waves goodbye to Sarah and Les, grabs the dish of food, and then sets off on a speed-walk to the nearest subway station.

-

Jack is sitting on the couch when he arrives, his knees pulled to his chest, looking very soft and cozy in pyjama pants and one of Davey's old hoodies from some baseball tournament. He's staring into space, and he hardly even moves to acknowledge Davey's presence when he walks in.

"Hey darling." Davey leaves the dish of food on the counter and crouches down in front of Jack to try and catch his eye-line. He carefully takes Jack's hands in his own. "Hanging in there?"

Jack finally looks at him and nods, but as he blinks, more tears slip out and roll down his cheeks.

"I'm only done two pages," he mumbles, practically whispering. "I don't know why it's so hard, but I just can't do it."

"Oh, Jackie..." Davey reaches up to wipe Jack's tears, cupping his face gently with both hands. "Hey, you still have three hours, right?" Jack nods. "That's lots of time. We're gonna figure this out... let's just sit here and calm down a little first. It's gonna be okay."

He climbs up onto the couch to pull Jack into a hug, and the moment he's settled, Jack wraps his arms around him and breaks, sobbing into his shoulder. Davey cards his fingers through his hair and rubs his back; he's never seen Jack this distraught, especially not over homework. There's a good chance the problem runs a lot deeper, and stressing over an assignment was simply the last straw.

"You're alright," Davey continues, since talking is what he does best, even in moments like this. Jack is shaking with the force of his tears, breathing so hard Davey worries he might hyperventilate. "Listen, it's just one assignment, my love... if you get a bad grade, or if we don't finish in time, we can deal with that. We'll hand in whatever we finish tonight, so at least you won't get a zero. Worst case scenario, you retake this class in the spring... even that doesn't sound so bad, does it? I know you could handle it, if that's what happens."

Jack nods a little, but his tears don't stop.

"I'm so tired of being stupid," he hiccups, after a long while. "I keep getting distracted, and I can't word things right, and I spell everything wrong, and- and maybe I should just drop out, because I'm clearly not meant to be doing this."

"Baby..." Davey sighs, giving him a gentle kiss on the temple. "You're so intelligent, Jack. You're almost done your degree— after this term, you've only got one year left, and it's not like you do poorly in your classes, is it? Even when it's something hard for you, like writing, you always do well when you put in the work. What did you get on your sociology paper a couple weeks ago?"

"Ninety percent," Jack mumbles, muffled by the way he's speaking into Davey's shoulder. "But I spent so long on it, and you edited it for me. I'm gonna fail this one. I can't do it in one night, and I can't write papers without your help."

"Well, I'm here to help now, aren't I?" He rests his hand midway through brushing it through Jack's hair and scratches his scalp gently, which makes Jack shiver and laugh quietly through his tears. "Right? And you can write, darling— all I do is fix up the spelling and grammar for you. The ideas and words are all you, just like when you give presentations and knock it out of the park every time. I sure can't do that."

Jack finally looks up at him.

"Yes you can. You get nervous beforehand, but when you do a presentation, it's always really good."

Davey smiles at him, now that they're actually looking at each other.

"It's hard for me, though. Just like writing is for you— but with lots of effort, you're really good at it. See my point?"

Slowly, a small smile spreads across Jack's teary-eyed face, and he nods. Davey feels rather accomplished with this development.

"I guess so." He wipes at his eyes and sighs. "Sorry about this. I'm such a mess."

"No apologies. I don't blame you for getting overwhelmed— you're in a tough spot here." He pulls Jack in for a quick kiss, which they both smile into. "I brought you dinner. Go heat it up when you're ready; I'll look over what you've written so far and see if I can come up with some more ideas to add on. We're gonna work together on it, okay? What painting did you choose?"

"The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew by Caravaggio," Jack sighs, looking almost forlornly at his computer on the table. "I have a lot to say about it, and lots of good stuff in my notes, but I just can't put it into paragraphs and sentences that make sense."

Davey nods, watching Jack as he stands up to go put the leftovers from Davey's family in the microwave.

"Well, I don't know anything about paintings, but if you talk me through it, I can help you put the actual paper together." He pauses as an idea dawns on him. "I'm gonna email your professor and ask about an extension— it might be a shot in the dark, but we should at least try. The worst he can do is say no."

"Sure," Jack replies from the kitchen, his voice still shaky. "He's a total hardass, though. Fingers crossed for a miracle."

Davey sits at the table, opens up Jack's email, and starts a draft.

Hi Professor Diaz,

Apologies for the short notice, but I'm wondering if it would be possible to have an extension on the analysis assignment, even if it's just by a few hours. I unfortunately mixed up some due dates in my planner, and I thought I had an extra week for this assignment; I only realized the mistake today, so I'm currently scrambling to get it done in time.

Would it be at all possible to turn it in a few hours late, just to have a bit more time to finish it up? I would really appreciate any amount of time you're willing to give me.

Thank you in advance for your understanding, Jack Kelly

He shrugs, sends it, and sincerely hopes a little professionalism and a decent (if slightly fabricated to make Jack look less forgetful) excuse will go a long way.

-

It's quarter to eleven, the paper is now five-and-a-half pages long, and Jack isn't crying anymore. He's in the zone, talking aloud about the painting while Davey helps him get his vague ideas into concrete sentences, and they're on track to have at least seven or eight pages by the time midnight rolls around— it might not get full marks, but it'll be better than nothing.

Jack's computer dings with the sound of a new email while they're taking a two-minute break— something they've interspersed every half hour, since Jack's focus is best in shorter bouts. He's in the middle of walking laps around the apartment to get his energy out and annoy his downstairs neighbours, but he scrambles back to the computer at the noise.

"We got a reply!" he shouts.

Davey is over on the couch, and he watches Jack's face closely as he opens the email. So far, so good... and then he slumps down in his chair in a show of what could either be defeat or relief. Davey can't quite tell, so he jumps up to go read it for himself.

Sure. Email it by 11:59pm tomorrow.

Sent from my iPhone

"Yes!" Davey shouts, grabbing Jack by the shoulders. "I told you it was worth a shot!"

Jack laughs, and then reaches up to pull Davey down for a kiss.

"You're the best, Jacobs. A fucking lifesaver." He rubs at his eyes, and then pushes his computer away, across the table. "I'll deal with this tomorrow. Let's just go to bed— you still have to be up early."

Right. Davey has a dreaded Saturday morning opening shift tomorrow— they open at five, and he has to be there well in advance to get set up, so he's got no chance at getting more than a few hours of sleep. He's going to be dead on his feet in the morning, probably fuck up a few coffee orders, but it'll be worth it to have helped Jack through tonight.

Poor Jack seems completely exhausted— as anyone would be after crying so hard earlier— so collapsing into bed after washing up quickly is an utter relief. Davey, despite being tall and long-limbed, greatly enjoys being the little spoon and Jack is happy to indulge him, so they curl into the familiar position.

"Thank you for everything tonight," Jack whispers, practically into Davey's ear. "I love you so much."

Davey smiles as his eyes fall shut, and he kisses Jack's knuckles softly, where his arm is wrapped around him.

"Any time, darling. I love you too."

[thebrochtuarachs]

All That Was Good - Chapter 3

A/N: This story has just been a delight to write. Thank you to everyone who loves and comments about this story. It absolutely warms the heart. <3 As always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. :) Stay safe!

This story is also on AO3

xxxxxx

Faith.

It was as natural as breathing when Claire knelt and caught her daughter in a tight hug. 

“Ma!” Faith chimed and it swelled Claire’s heart. She couldn’t stop the tears that feel even if she tried. Seeing her photo in the wallet and now, in the flesh in the span of 5 seconds was more than enough to break Claire down. 

But it was definitely more for Jamie, who by now, has completely lost it. He was openly crying in awe and disbelief for the daughter he’s never seen or met but prayed with all regret that he could’ve. After everything that happened in Paris and even though they have settled it between them, deep inside his mind and heart, Jamie blamed himself for her loss. 

Hearing Jamie sniffle and wipe his nose and face, Faith turned to him and quickly reached out her arms, requesting him to carry her. Without hesitation, he picked her up and held her close to his heart. 

Pushing herself up from his shoulder, Faith turned to Jamie with a question. “Da, sad?” 

“No, no, not sad. Da is verra verra happy right now.” he quickly assured his daughter with the biggest smile on his face. “We’ve just missed you so much” 

Faith mirrored his smile as Jamie continued to take her in. “She has your eyes.” he remarked to Claire. 

“And your everything else!” Claire jokingly scoffed back at him. She then, squinted and too, shook her head in wonder. “Jamie, I - “

“I know. I can’t believe it either.” Jamie finished the sentence. He opened his free side to her and she quickly slided in, wrapping Jamie and their daughter together in her arms as close as she could. 

The next five minutes have been the most blissful time yet.

-

If the Beauchamps or the Frasers noticed Claire and Jamie’s puffy eyes and tear-streaked faces when they came to the dining hall, they (thankfully) didn’t mention it. 

To Claire and Jamie, everything was new - but to the foursome in front of them and the baby between them, it was practically routine and regular. 

Brian, Ellen, Henry, and Julia were talking about the latest in business and social events they were planning to attend. Claire and Jamie tried to keep an ear out to get some clues on what their families may be doing at this time but it was proving to be hard when there’s a two-year old, red-headed Fraser calling your attention every minute whether it was giving her food, her giving them food, wiping her clean, and listening to her stories in the past week she was with grandparents. Between the two, Jamie and Claire focused on Faith, savoring everything about her. Everything else can wait. 

They were taken out of their focus when Ellen asked Claire a question. “So, Claire, darling, what was the news ye had to tell us?” 

Claire swallowed the food she was chewing and looked at Jamie, a silent conversation ensuing between them. Jamie looked at her belly and maybe got her answer. It was the only thing of significance they could think of at the moment. 

“Oh, our news” She put her utensils down and everyone followed suit waiting to hear what’s next. “Well, Jamie and I are very happy to share that little Miss Faith here…” she tickled Faith’s belly resulting in a short giggle. “...is going to be a big sister.” 

They waited with baited breath for any reaction and hope that it was information they haven't told before. A few seconds later, all four grandparents erupted in celebration with the news, standing and looping Jamie and Claire into taps and hugs. 

“How far along are you?” Julia asked. 

“About two to three months. We just found ourselves.” Claire replied. 

“Have ye told anyone else?” It was Ellen’s turn to ask. 

“No, you guys are the first to know” 

“Can we tell the rest of the family, then, give them a quick call?” Brian chimed. Jamie and Claire nodded even thought they weren’t sure the extent of it. However, Brian offered the list immediately after. “We’ll call Willie, Jenny and Rabbie. And of course, we’ll reach out to your Uncle Lamb.” 

Jamie quickly clutched Claire’s hand and she did the same. Their entire family and more. 

It wouldn’t be far fetched that Claire and Jamie might think that they may have died and gone to heaven because this was everything. But until that reality falls down upon them, they will take this experience and make the most of it. 

“We should plan to get everybody here together and celebrate, maybe in another month’s time?”

“I agree, plan for a proper celebration. Plus, I think Lamb would also like to be out of the house once in a while.”

“It’s a date then!” 

The parents made all the arrangements and Claire and Jamie were just left to happily agree. 

-

The four grandparents continued their catch up to the library and Claire and Jamie decided to explore the estate. They brought Faith with them, not wanting to part with her just yet, even though the little girl was napping on Jamie’s shoulder. 

“Uncle Lamb must be in his 80s now but from what I gathered from my mom, he’s still strong but prefers to stay at home these days.” Claire shared, pulling out a cloth and wiping a drool from Faith.

They’ve checked the family photos and deducted what they could. In this time, William Fraser was married to Mary McNab, Jenny and Ian are together and already have wee Jamie and Maggie, and Rabbie is still in uni finishing his studies. 

Further reviewing the contents on both their wallets, what they’ve found so far are: Lallybroch is a whiskey distillery, Jamie and Claire are based in Glasgow, where Claire’s a nurse, and Jamie heads the Glasgow branch of the business - thankfully, jobs that are not necessarily out of their range. 

As for how they met, their past, and other information to their present, nothing much on that end yet. Maybe once they head to their own home, they’ll find more answers. But for now, they believe they have enough information to process but more importantly, let go a bit to focus more on Faith. 

The day passed rather quickly, with Jamie and Claire coming back to the house to cool off. They made their way to the living room, laying Faith down in one of the solo sofa chairs while they settled on the other. 

Jamie pulled Claire beside him and kissed her temple in reverence. She, in turn, cuddled closer to him, crossing her legs on top of his. Soon, sleep took over both of them once again, a much deserved nap as they adjust to today’s time. 

-

Jamie and Claire were woken up when they felt something trying to grab or climb at them.

“Oh, hi, darling. Did you have a good nap?” Claire asked Faith, she herself sitting straight and waking. 

“Yes. Are we going home now?” Faith asked as she bear hugged her mother. 

“Not yet. We’ll stay one more night and go tomorrow.” 

It was nearly dinnertime and one of their parents might’ve opened the lamp to give the space some light. Claire turned to Jamie and found him tenderly looking at the both of them. 

“I dinna have the words, Claire.” Jamie sighed and began. “I ken meeting our parents is one thing but meeting her, seeing her, feeling her, talking to her…” he reached to brush Faith’s hair. “Seeing what it is of her or me that is in her, watching ye become a mother…” Jamie shook his head. “I could talk about it all day, Sassenach. But after ye, this has been the best blessing in my life. And I promise ye, I wilna take it for granted.” 

“We won’t take it for granted, Jamie.” Claire reiterated their commitment. She, then, turned to their daughter to ask “Do you want to cuddle with Da next?” 

Sure enough, the little lass pulled out of Claire’s embrace and proceeded to go to Jamie’s. He put his nose in her head and breathed her in. “Mo nighean ruadh, tha gaol agam ort”. He grabbed Claire’s hand and placed a kiss on her knuckle. “Mo nighean donn, tha gaol agam ort” 

“I love you, too, Jamie.” she replied, squeezing his hand in agreement.

“Love too, Da” Faith said so simply and Claire and Jamie could just not stop the tears from flowing. 

Unbeknownst to them, outside the door, Ellen accidentally overheard their unusual conversation when she was coming to get them for supper. Throughout the day, she’d observed some things are rather different but nothing to be alarmed of. However, the chat did leave her a bit confused.

Letting the thoughts pass her mind, she knocked on the door loudly and got the family for dinner.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 3

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,600ish

Summary: The beginning of your intern year continues.

Warnings: man parts (lol) and talk about rape

You really tried your best, but you couldn’t get the image of a naked Dr. Steve Rogers on the floor of your living room out of your head. You had decided one night that, to help get the image out of your head, you needed roommates. The house that you had inherited was big enough and the longer you lived there, the lonelier it became. So, you created a ‘roommates wanted’ sign and posted it in the locker room before your shift.

You had several interns come up to you explaining why they would be the perfect roommate for you within the first few hours of your shift. It was annoying and you turned every single one of them down, being very particular about who was going to live with you.

“Why do you put up posters for roommates if you don’t want roommates?” Val asked as you, her, and Scott walked down a corridor.

“I do want roommates,” you defended. 

“And why can’t we be those roommates?” Scott wondered

“We’re just together a hundred hours a week, you want to live together too?”

“No,” Natasha responded, walking up to the group. “Ooh, you’re bringing bribes now?” She motioned to the cup of coffee in your hand.

“I need a place to live,” Scott rambled. “My mom irons my scrubs. I have to get out of there.”

“It’s not a bride,” you told Natasha before turning to Scott. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But I can’t put down last, first, and deposit,” Scott argued.

“It’s totally a bride,” Natasha scoffed.

“I can cook,” Val added. “And I can clean.”

“No,” you stated. “I just want two total strangers who I don't have to talk to, or be nice to, and it's not a bribe, it's a mocha latte.”

“Clint, you’re running the code team,” Gamora ordered as you all walked up to her. “Y/N, take the trauma patients, Natasha, deliver the weekend labs to patients, Val, you’re on sutures, and Scott, you’re on scut.”

“Dr. Gamora,” you called. “I was hoping to assist you in the OR today, maybe do a minor procedure? I think I'm ready. Mocha latte?” You held the cup out for her.

“If she gets to cut, I want to cut too,” Natasha added.

“Yeah, me too,” Val joined in.

“I wouldn’t mind another shot,” Scott shrugged.

“And if everybody else gets one, then I do too!” Clint said.

“Stop talking,” Gamora demanded. You all fell silent. “Every intern wants to perform their first surgery, that's not your job. Do you know what your job is? To make your resident happy. Do I look happy? No. Why? Because my interns are whining. You know what will make me look happy? Having the code team staffed, having the trauma patients taken care of, having the weekend labs delivered, and having someone down in the Pit, doing the sutures.” She swiped the mocha latte from your hand. “No one holds a scalpel until I'm so happy I'm Mary freakin' Poppins.”

“Mocha latte my ass,” Natasha grumbled.

“Why’re y’all still standing there? Move!”

Everyone moved, you heading to the elevator with a few files. You paused in your steps when you noticed who was waiting at the elevator. Dr. Steve Rogers. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, before making your way to stand and wait next to him. When he noticed you, he tried to hide the pleasant smile that wanted to take over his face.

“New York has ferry boats,” he stated.

“Yes,” you replied, a bit confused.

“I didn’t remember that. I grew up here then left, now I’ve been living here for six weeks, and I didn’t remember there were ferry boats.”

“Well, Manhattan is an island.”

“Hence the ferry boats.” The elevator arrived and the two of you stepped onto it. “Now I have to like it here. I wasn’t planning on liking it here. I just moved here from the country. I’m supposed to not like big cities like Manhattan. But I have a thing for ferry boats.”

The elevators doors closed, leaving them alone in the elevator. He was leaning against the wall behind you as you stood in the middle, holding the files to your body. You hoped that he couldn’t hear your heart pounding in your chest. 

“I’m not going out with you,” you blurted. You don’t know if you were trying to tell him that or if you were trying to convince yourself that you weren’t interested.

“Did I ask you to go out with me?” He questioned. He paused before asking the next, “Do you want to go out with me?”

“I'm not dating you. And I'm definitely not sleeping with you again. You're my boss.”

“I'm your boss's boss.”

“You're my teacher. And my teacher's teacher. And you're my teacher.”

“I'm your sister, I'm your daughter,” he joked.

“You're sexually harassing me.”

“I'm riding an elevator.” He stepped towards you, you could practically feel him breathing down your neck. You spun around to face him.

“Look, I'm drawing a line. The line is drawn. There's a big line.”

“So, this line. Is it imaginary, or do I need to get you a marker?”

You stared at him for a second, basking in all his attractiveness. It didn’t take you very long to go ‘screw it’ and drop the files you were holding and kiss him. Steve was a tad surprised but caught on quickly. When the elevator dinged, you quickly crouched down to pick up the files and rushed out of the elevator. Steve stood there, looking amused.

“We’ll talk later?” He called after you. You ignored him and he chuckled to himself. “Definitely, later.”

~~~

In between taking care of patients, you had interns begging you to let them be your roommate. You were slowly regretting the idea of roommates the longer the day went on. Thankfully, your pager rang and requested you down in the ER.

“You the surgeon?” A nurse asked as you entered the room.

“Yes,” you replied.

“We’ve got a rape victim. 21-year-old female found down at the park, status: post-trauma, she came in with a GCS of 6, BP 80 over 60, head trauma, unequal breath sounds, right pupil is dilated, and she's ready for x-ray. You ready to roll?” You were listening but also focused on the girl’s shoes. They were the same ones you had worn to work. “Hey!”

“Uh, sorry,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Call it in to clear CT, let them know I'm coming, load up the portable monitor, call respiratory for a ventilator, I'll get x-rays while I'm down there.”

You quickly learned that the girls name was Mallory and, just by you reading the scans alone, she would be needing surgery. Dr. Banner and Dr. Rogers were both called in while you were allowed to watch and hopefully assist.

“She’s going to spend a hell of a lot of time in recovery and rehab,” Dr. Rogers stated.

“If she survives,” Dr. Banner added.

“What is she, like, 5'2", a hundred pounds, she's still breathing after what this guy did to her? If they catch the guy, they should castrate him.”

“See how shredded her hands are? She tried to fight back.”

“Tried to?” Dr. Stark repeated, walking into the room. “Rape kit came back negative. She kicked his ass.”

“So, we have a warrior amount us, huh?” Rogers questioned. 

“Hell yeah we do! I just came in to tell you about the rape kit and to see if you needed me anytime soon. Can’t have the poor girl be reminded of the incident with so many scars.”

“Mallory,” you interrupted. “Her—her name is Mallory.”

“Mallory,” Rogers and Stark repeated. 

“I think I may have found the cause of our rupture,” Banner said, pulling out a piece of flesh. “What is this?” He held it up. “Does anyone know what this is?”

“Oh my gosh,” you gasped, with Dr. Stark snickering from the sidelines.

“What? Spit it out, L/N.”

“She bit it off.”

“Bit off what?”

“That’s his…” You swallowed. “His penis.” Shocked groans filled the OR. “She bit off his penis.”

“Told you she kicked his ass!” Stark exclaimed as Banner couldn’t toss the piece of flesh into the try fast enough. 

~~~

After the surgery, the penis was placed in a small cooler. You were tasked to bring it to Fury for the police. You knocked at the door of his office, where an older woman is in there.

“Hi, is the chief in?” You asked.

“He’s on his way,” she responded. “Is that it?”

“Can I see it?” You looked down at the box and then up again. “No, forget I asked.”

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Fury greeted as he entered, going to his desk.

“You too, sir,” you responded with a nod. “Listen, so they said to bring this to you,” you lifted up the cooler. “So…?”

“Yes, for the police,” Fury responded.

“Right.”

“When did the police say they'll come?” Fury asked his assistant.

“You know how slow they are,” she answered. “So, she’d better take it with her.”

“What?” You questioned.

“You have to take it with you.”

“Chain of custody rules,” Fury explained. “All medical matter in a rape must stay with the person who collected it, until it's placed in police custody.”

“You collected the specimen, so you have custody.”

“Custody of a penis…” You said.

“Yes,” Fury answered. “Until the cops come for it.”

“Okay. Well, what am I supposed to do with the penis?”

Fury simply shrugged before excusing you. You huffed, leaving the office with the cooler. You wandered the halls until you saw Clint working at a desk. You walked over, setting the cooler down and causing Clint to look up at you.

“What’s that?” He pointed to the cooler as he asked.

“Don’t ask, you don’t want to know,” you responded.

“I do want to know. Really.”

“You really want to know?” Clint nodded. “It’s a severed penis.”

“Okay… I didn’t really want to know.”

“Told you.”

“I didn’t know why I have to be the one who gets hugged,” Natasha complained to Peter as they walked up.

“Because, I don’t do that,” Peter replied. “Besides, you're the ovarian sister here.”

“Did you just call me an ovarian sis— an ovarian— since when has the possession of ovaries become an insult?”

“Y/N’s carrying a penis around in a jar,” Clint interrupted.

“Oh, from the rape surgery?” Natasha looked around.

“Yeah,” you answered. “And it’s not a jar, it’s a cooler.”

“Talk about taking a bite out of crime.” Natasha chuckled as she left.

You were suddenly lost in your head, unable to stop thinking about Mallory’s shoes. They were the same as yours. You had worn them to work today, which was weird. You never really wear them.

“You okay?” Clint asked.

“Yeah… it’s just… Mallory's shoes. The rape victim, Mallory, her shoes. I have the same ones. In my locker. And I normally never wear them, because they're not comfortable, but today I did, and she was wearing the same shoes, and it's just… stupid, and I'm tired, and forget it.”

“You know what you need?” Clint stared at you.

“No. It’s stick and twisted. We said last time was the last time.” Clint looked away. “You’ve been doing it without me?”

“Nancy Reagan lied. You can't just say no. Come on.”

“Do you know what would happen if anyone knew?”

“I'm doing it. You can come with me… or you can stay here, and be miserable.”

“Fine,” you tried to hold back a smile as you followed Clint. 

He led you to the nursery, where you two stood at the window and watched the babies. You laughed as Clint did some baby talk.

“You are such a woman,” you laughed.

Clint’s pager beeped before he could retorted. “It’s a code,” he sighed. “I gotta go.” 

He left, leaving you to sigh as you watched the babies.

“You are really cute,” you whispered as you looked at them.

As you watched them, you noticed at one of the babies was struggling. His face was slowly turning blue. You quickly entered the nursery, setting the cooler to the side before checking the babies chart. Then you sided your stethoscope to check on the babies heart.

“What are you doing in here?” A Peds Intern asked, walking into the room.

“There were no tests ordered,” you answered. “And the baby has a murmur.”

“I know.”

“He turned blue.”

“You're surgery, you're not authorized to be in here. Do you know how much trouble you can get into for this?”

“Are you going to do any tests?”

“It's a benign systolic ejection murmur. It goes away with age.”

“So you're not going to do any tests.”

“He's not your patient, he's not even on your service.”

“Are you sure it’s benign?”

“I'm a doctor too, you know. You should get out of here.”

Deciding you’d rather not get in trouble, you grabbed the cooler and left. You were stopped along your wandering by more interns who wanted to room with you. After having listened to three of them, you walked away, still unimpressed, and went to Mallory’s room. You were looking at her through the window when Dr. Rogers came up.

“Y/N,” he greeted. “I've called every hospital in the county. Sooner or later, the guy that did this is going to seek medical attention, and when he does, that penis you're carrying around is going to nail him.”

“Where is her family?” You asked.

“Doesn’t have any.”

“No siblings?”

“No. Both parents are dead. She just moved to New York three weeks ago. Welcome to the city.” When you didn’t give a response he turned to look at you. You were lost in your thoughts. “Y/N, you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just… I just have to do something. I have to go.”

“Right. I’m going to sit with her.”

You nodded before rushing away to find Dr. Banner.

“Dr. Banner?” You called when you saw him.

“Mmm?” He hummed, turning to face you.

“There's a baby up in peds, I saw him have a tet spell, and I think I hear a murmur.”

“Mmm. Did peds call us for a consult?”

“Actually, no. They’re not doing anything about it—“

“So you want me to what?”

“If you could just go up and look at him—“

“Mm-hmm, not without a Peds consult.”

“Yeah, but—“

“I’m a busy man, L/N, and there are rules. Look, it’s not like I’m the Chief or something.”

Then he stocked off, leaving you frustrated. 

“Stupid rules.”

~~~

Eventually, you found a spot in the lobby to sit. Just waiting for the cops to show up.

“What’re you doing down here?” Natasha asked when she came across you.

“Just sitting here with my penis,” you responded. “What about you?”

“Hiding from Peter.” She sat beside you.

“I kissed Steve.”

“You kissed Steve.”

“In the elevator.”

“Oh, you kissed him in the elevator.”

“I was having a bad day. I am having a bad day.”

“Oh, so this is what you do on your bad days. Make out with Captain McDreamy.” You both stood up.

“Well, that, and you know, carrying around a penis just makes everything seem so shiny and happy.”

“Mmm. Clint said Mallory was wearing your shoes.”

“Yeah. It’s weird, right?”

“I think it’s weird that you care.”

“I think it’s weird.”

From outside, a car swerves. You and Natasha could hear it from inside, causing you to rush out. A man staggered out of the car, clothes soaked in blood, mainly around his crotch. He collapses. Other doctors and nurses followed you out and immediately began checking on him. You immediately knew that the guy was the owner of the penis you had been carrying around all day. The other doctors brought him into a trauma room. You followed, quickly calling security.

“So, what’ve we got?” Gamora asked as she entered.

“Take a look,” you responded.

“What?” She leaned closer. “Alright, let’s get him to OR 1. Y/N, you call the Chief and let him know we got the rapist.”

~~~

You and Natasha were in the OR with Gamora and Stark. They were working on the rapist.

“I saw Mallory,” you said, eyes on the operating table. “You can’t believe the beating that she took. And then to see this…”

“It's like that old saying, you should see the other guy,” Natasha said.

“Okay, kiddos, why are we not attempting to reattach the severed penis?” Dr. Stark asked.

“Teeth don’t slice, they tear. You can only reattach with a clean cut. If she wanted to slice him off with a knife…”

“Besides,” you continued for Natasha, “the digestive juices didn't leave much of the flesh to work with.”

“Right,” Gamora agreed, “so what do we do?”

“Sew him up minus a large part of the family jewels,” Natasha answered.

“And his outlook?”

“He'll be urinating out of a bag for a very, very long time,” Natasha added.

“Oh, too bad.”

“Shame.”

“I can’t imagine not having sex,” Stark commented. “I think that I would just end my life if I couldn’t do a round every day.” Everyone looked at him. “What? It shouldn’t be that surprising.”

“No wonder, Dr. Potts keeps turning you down,” Gamora said.

“I’ll get her one day. Just you wait. I’m going to marry that woman if it’s the last thing I do.”

~~~

You met with the police after the surgery where they told you that they couldn’t send their crime scene guy down for hours. Annoyed, you searched for your intern friends. You found them in the empty corridor, sitting on the beds.

“So, the police say that they can’t send down the crack crime scene guy for hours,” you told them as you entered, sitting down beside Natasha. “So I have to spend the night with a penis. Peter, don’t say it.”

“Ahh, it was too easy anyway,” Peter responded.

“Who here feels like they have no idea what they’re doing?” Scott asked. Everyone of you, but Peter, raised a hand.

“I mean, are we supposed to be learning something?” Clint wondered. “Because I don’t feel like I’m learning anything.”

“Except how not to sleep,” Val added.

“It’s like there’s this wall,” Natasha said, “and the attending and the residents are over there, being surgeons, and we’re over here, being—“

“Suturing, code running, lab delivering penis-minders,” you grumbled.

“I hate being an intern,” Peter stated.

Gamora walked into the hallway, looking expectant. All of you interns quickly got up and took your leave. All the others had things to do, so you found yourself in front of the babies again. As you looked at the baby you’re so worried about, you noticed the parents. Taking a deep breath, you decided to go up to them.

“Hi,” you greeted with a soft smile.

“Hi,” the mother greeted back.

“Is he yours?” You nodded to the baby.

“Yeah,” the mother smiled.

“He’s adorable… Have you noticed anything that would concern you?”

“No,” the father responded. “Have you?”

“Earlier today I noticed him turning blue.”

“Blue?” The mother repeated.

“Yes. I checked him and I heard a murmur.”

“We were told that the murmur was benign,” the father stated.

“I don’t think it is. I think—“

“You are so out of line,” the Peds Intern interrupted.

“She says the murmur might not be benign,” the father said.

“I think we should do an echo, to check,” you suggested.

“This is your career,” the intern said, going to get her resident.

“There’s really no reason to get alarmed,” you told the parents.

“What’s the problem?” The resident asked, coming back with the intern.

“If our baby is sick, we want him treated,” the mother ordered. “Now.”

“Who said your baby was sick?”

“Her,” the Peds Intern answered, pointing to you. “The surgical intern who has no business on our service.”

“Who authorized you being here?”

“I was just,” you began, “actually—“

“I did,” Dr. Banner came up from behind you. “Could you excuse us for a second?” Dr. Banner took the resident to the side, but not far enough for you to not hear. “Are you messing with my intern, Dr. Keener?”

“No, sir,” the resident responded.

Dr. Banner turned back to you and the other intern. “Give me the chart.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” the intern said, giving up the chart, “I checked.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You can guarantee that he is fine, you are 100% sure.”

The intern looked hesitant.

“How sure are you?” The resident questioned.

“I don’t know,” the intern responded. “75%.”

“Not good enough,” Banner said. “He’s my patient now. That okay with you, Dr. K?”

“Absolutely,” the resident responded.

“He can take our patient?” The intern asked.

“He’s an attending.”

“Which means I can do whatever I want,” Banner replied before heading to the parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, I’m Dr. Banner, head of cardio. We’re going to run some tests and give you an answer within the hour. Excuse me.” He turned to you. “L/N.” He motioned for you to follow, which you quickly did. “I want an EKG, a chest x-ray, and an ECHO. I don’t have all day.”

“You’re a busy man.”

“I’m a busy man.”

You quickly ordered the tests then wandered the hospital more, since you weren’t allowed to do anything while you were watching the penis. After a little while, you found Dr. Banner again.

“Well?” You asked as you walked up to him.

“It’s a birth defect,” Dr. Banner replied. “Tetrology affirmed lower pulmonary artresia. You were right. I'm booking the OR for tomorrow.”

“Thank you for backing me up on this.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait, whoa. You were right. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again...going to the parents behind a doctor's back? Trying to steal a patient from another service? I will make your residency year hell on earth.”

He walked off and you smiled slightly to yourself. You made your way back to the babies, where you watched, from the other side of the window, Banner talk to the parents.

“His heart surgery is scheduled for the morning,” the Peds Intern told you. “I really did think I was right, you know.”

“I know. We almost never are. We're interns,” you responded. “We're not supposed to be right. And when we are, it's completely shocking.”

“Are you— I mean, being an intern, do you feel…”

“Terrified. 100% of the time.”

“Good, it’s not just me.”

“No.”

You decided, after finishing up with the babies, to go check on Mallory. When you arrived, you realized that Steve was still in there.

“How is she?” You asked, standing in the doorway.

“No change,” Steve answered with a sigh.

“Have you been here all night?”

“Mm-hmm. Yup… If I was in a comma, I’d want someone to be here. I know I would have people there. Having no one? Can’t imagine that.”

“I can.”

“Don’t you have any family?”

“I do. Just… I don’t think they’d come.”

Steve watched you carefully before speaking again. “So… we’re kissing but we’re not dating?”

“I knew that was going to come up.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the kissing. I’m all for the kissing. More kissing, I say.”

“I have no idea what that was about.”

“Is it going to happen again? Because if it is, I need to bring breath mints. Put a condom in my wallet.”

“Shut up now.” Steve laughed. “There was this baby up in the nursery. He's brand new. No one's neglected him or damaged him yet. How do we get from there to here? She's wearing my shoes and someone's beat the crap out of her, and she's got nobody.”

Suddenly, Mallory’s machine’s began beeping. You quickly hit an alarm on the wall.

“Her ICP’s double, get an OR!” Steve yelled. “Put her in for a craniotomy!”

~~~

You waited outside the OR, still watching over the stupid penis, while Steve operated on Mallory. You were nervous for her and felt bad that no one was there for her. Once the surgery was over, Steve exited the OR, walking past you. When he noticed you were there, he turned back.

“Hey,” he greeted. “I, uh, I had to leave her skull flap off, till the pressure in her brain goes down.”

“She’s not going to make it, is she?” You asked.

“She’s going to be fine.”

“If she ever wakes up.”

Steve nodded. “If she ever wakes up.” You nodded, biting your lip as you looked away. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Your pager went off. You looked down to see it was the Chief. “I’ve gotta go. That’s the Chief. Maybe I can finally get rid of this thing.” You lifted the cooler slightly.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled. “Good luck.”

~~~

“So here is where you put the signature, down here, the initials,” Fury’s assistant pointed out on a paper.

“Mmm,” you hummed with a nod, taking the paper and pen from her. “Okay.”

“It just says that the penis was never out of your sight.”

“Of course.” You sighed and handed over the paper. “There you go. One penis.” You glanced at the clock and realized that it was time for the baby’s surgery. “Am I all done here? I kinda want to go watch a surgery.”

“Sure.”

You tried to rush, but not rush, to the OR Dr. Banner was working in. When you arrived, you found a spot in the back.

“We'll be using a medium approach for a trans-ventricular repair with a right ventriculostomy,” Banner explained. “Let’s open him up. L/N!” He looked around for you.

“Yes, sir?” You replied.

“Go scrub in. When we've finished cracking the baby's chest, I'll let you hold the clamp.”

“Seriously?” You tried to contain your excitement.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

You rushed to scrubbed in. And, let’s just say, holding onto that clamp was a rush and just what you needed to help brighten your shift. After that, you went to watch the babies, Val, Clint, and Scott all joining you.

You let out a sigh. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “You guys can move into the house.”

“Yes! Yes!” The guys shouted.

“I can’t believe you caved!” Val laughed.

“I can’t believe it either,” you mumbled, trying to hide the smile.

~~~

You changed out of your scrubs and stared at the shoes in your locker. You couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it was that you had decided to wear those shoes today. With determination, you shut the locker on your shoes and went to the elevator. Steve was there waiting.

“So… it’s intense…” he started. “This thing I have for, ah, ferry boats… I mean.”

You smiled at him. “I’m so taking the stairs this time.” You walked off.

“No self-control,” he called after you. “It’s sad. Really.” He chuckled to himself as you continued to walk away. “Wow… this is so—“

“Weird. It’s weird,” Dr. Stark came up, ready to go too. “Like I said before, that look is bad news. And you—“

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut it Tony?”

“Fine.” Tony held his hands up. “But, seriously, don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​���. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[a-simple-gaywitch]

The Other Side of Someday

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After Spencer and (Y/N) break up, everything changes

Warnings: Criminal Minds-Typical Violence, Angst

Genre: Angst. It’s basically just angst

Word Count: 2807

A/N: Title taken from Sara Bareilles’ Gonna Get Over You. Please messege me/send an ask if you want added to my taglist

“The saddest thing about love is that not only the love cannot last forever, but even the heartbreak is soon forgotten.”

~William Faulkner 

~

You and Spencer Reid didn’t start your relationship in a very conventional way. After the “death” of Emily Prentiss, you and Spencer turned to each other for comfort as you mourned for your friend. Shockingly, Spencer made the first move. He was over at your apartment and the two of you were watching a movie, trying to ignore the pain of losing a woman you both saw as a big sister and friend. Seemingly out of nowhere, Spencer kissed you. You’d been friends with Spencer for nearly five years, and you’d had a crush on him for almost as long. 

Your relationship strengthened the BAU. You and Spencer were practically joint at the hip and your thoughts bounced off the other. Your relationship lasted for a little over a year, before everything changed. 

Spencer drew away from you. He already wasn’t big on PDA, but even in the privacy of your own apartments he didn’t hold you or kiss you like he used to. That was your first clue things weren’t right. The next sign was when he seemed to avoid you whenever he could.

You cornered him on the way back to the hotel after a long day working a case. 

“Spence, what’s going on?” You asked, grabbing his wrist as he made his way to the door. 

He wrenched his arm out of your grasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, Spencer. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No, of course not, I-”

“Then tell me why you’ve been acting so weird lately!”

Spencer sighed. “I think we should break up.”

“Oh.” You were silent for a beat, trying to figure out how to respond. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, when one person wants to break up, you break up. Just… Can I ask why?”

“I just,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t think our relationship should go any further.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’m going to ride back to the hotel with Hotch and Rossi,” you said before ducking out of the precinct. 

Thankfully, the case didn’t last much longer, and you were able to keep your personal issues out of the case. Unfortunately, though, you were surrounded by profilers. When JJ noticed you picking at the salad you’d picked up, she sat next to you. 

“What’s going on with you? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, Jayje. Spencer and I broke up.”

“Oh, (Y/N).” She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug as her Mom Instincts™ kicked in. “I’m sorry, I know how much you love him.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, shrugging out of her arms. “It hasn’t affected my job, and I’m not going to let it.”

~

You know that feeling when you’re on a roller coaster and it drops suddenly? That was how you felt when you discovered the real reason Spencer broke up with you. When he came into the office panicked, you knew something was wrong. 

“Spence? Are you alright?” You asked him as he ran up the stairs to the briefing room.

Spencer told the team what was going on. His new girlfriend was kidnapped, supposedly by her stalker. He was beyond stressed. His hair was a complete mess and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than they usually were. The team agreed to help bring her home, off the clock. 

“Hey, you alright?” Penelope asked you. 

“I’m fine,” you said. “Why wouldn’t I be? We’re rescuing a woman from her stalker, we’ve done this before.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s Reid.”

Speaking of, Spencer came up to you, his hair more of a mess than it was before. “(Y/N). I need you to promise me something.”

“Sure, anything Spence. What do you need?”

“Get Maeve back safe. Please. Promise me.” His eyes shone with unshed tears. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”

~

You couldn’t fulfill your promise, though you tried. You really tried. You just weren’t fast enough. 

Spencer was distraught, as anyone would be after losing someone they loved. When he returned to work, he kept his distance from you. You thought he was the same with everyone else, until you saw him talking with Alex Blake by the coffee machine. You didn’t realize Spencer was angry at you until the team discussed the unsub and the victims still in his captivity. 

“Don’t like (Y/N) rescue the vics, she’ll just let them die anyway.”

“Reid!”

“Spencer, what the hell?” you said.

“You promised you would save Maeve. And you didn’t.”

“I did what I could! None of us could have predicted what happened!”

“You let your jealousy get in the way, you let her die!” He fell silent for a minute before saying, “It should have been you.”

You took a step back in shock.

“Reid!” Hotch yelled at him a second time. 

You pursed your lips before saying, “If you think I’d let an innocent woman die because of my own emotional complications, you clearly don’t know me at all. Maybe you never did.” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the precinct. 

You sat on the step outside the building, your hot tears a stark contrast to the cool night air. When you heard the door open, you sniffled and dug the heel of your hand into your eyes, rubbing your tears away. 

Rossi sat down on the step next to you and handed you a cup of hot tea. “He didn’t mean it, you know,” he assured you.

You looked into the steaming cup. “But he did. You didn’t see the look in his eyes, Rossi.” You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. “He hates me now.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Rossi assured you. “But if it makes you feel any better, Hotch is really ripping into him for saying those things to you.”

You shook your head and scoffed. “It doesn’t.”

Rossi’s lips quirked into a sympathetic smile. “How about I drive you back to the hotel? You seem like you need some rest.”

~

Reid’s snide comments didn’t stop. They just became more discrete, and always when Rossi and Hotch weren’t around. It went on for months. It got to the point where you avoided Spencer as much as you could. 

One day, after filling out your paperwork, you walked up the stairs to Hotch’s office and knocked on the door. 

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open. “Hey, Hotch. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

You looked out at the bullpen before you closed the door and sat down across from Hotch. You took a deep breath. “I think it’s time for me to leave the Bureau.”

“What? Are you sure? If it’s about something with the BAU, I can talk to Strauss about transferring you-”

“No, Hotch,” you said, giving him a sad smile. “It’s time for me to leave. Remember when Elle left and she said she used to get so excited when her phone rang, but she dreaded it towards the end? I understand that now.” You pulled the sleeves of your cardigan over your hands and gripped the cuffs in your fists. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I’m turning my credentials in on my way out today.”

Hotch sighed. “Well, I can’t say we won’t miss you,” he said. 

“Could you just, uh, do me a favor? Don’t tell the team until after I’m gone? I don’t think I could face Garcia right now.”

“Sure,” Hotch promised. “Where are you going to go?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I have a Master’s in adolescent psychology, it shouldn’t be too hard to find a job.”

“Well, we’ll be here if you need anything,” Hotch assured you. “We’re only a phone call away.”

~

“Where’s (L/N)?” Morgan asked when the team gathered in the conference room the next day. “She’s never this late, is she okay?”

“Well, before we get started I need to give you all an announcement. (L/N) is no longer part of the Bureau.”

“What?!”

“Are you serious, Hotch?”

“And she didn’t tell any of us?”

Hotch held up his hand to silence the team. “She didn’t want to tell anyone because she knew you’d all get upset and try to convince her to stay.”

“Did she say why she was leaving?” JJ asked.

“She just said she thought it was time for her to move on,” Hotch explained. “She didn’t tell me why. But that’s her business.” He turned to Garcia. “The case?”

~

You’d moved on from the BAU, and, by extension, Spencer. You found a job as a school psychologist at a nearby high school, and you went back to school to get your doctorate. Every once in a while, the team would be on the news and you would think about calling them, just to talk to them. But you never did. 

You were walking home from the convenience store on the corner of your street when someone jumped out and hit you in the head, knocking you out. 

You woke up to blinding pain behind your eyes and the smell of manure in the air. 

“Are you alright?” a rough, female voice asked as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Where am I? Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” You heard a chain rattle as the woman handed you a cup. “I’ve been here for days. I’m Laura.”

“(Y/N).” You looked into the cup. “What is it?”

“Just water,” Laura assured you. “He gives us a little bit every few days. To keep our strength up.”

“There was a girl here before me, wasn’t there?” you asked, cautiously sipping the water. 

“Yeah. Her name was Ruth.”

“And now that I’m here…”

The sound of chains rattling on the barn door made the both of you look up. 

~

“Hey, I just got Hotch’s text,” Spencer said to JJ as he walked into the BAU. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. He just said it was an emergency.”

They walked into the conference room where the rest of the team was already gathered. 

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked Hotch. 

“We have a high-priority case. (Y/N)’s the most recent victim.”

“Wait, (Y/N) (L/N)? As in our Angelface?” Penelope asked, panic rising in her voice. 

“Unfortunately,” Hotch said. “This unsub keeps these women for about two weeks before… well…” He clicked to the next picture on the screen. “This woman was just found this morning. Laura Greenwald.” Spencer felt a lump in his throat, seeing the mutilation done to the woman. “And there was another abduction about two miles from where (Y/N) was taken. Let’s get to work.”

~

Your captor unchained the doors to the barn you were being held in and shoved a whimpering girl inside, her hands and wrists restrained and a burlap bag over her head. 

You walked over to her and gently pulled the sack off her head. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Who-who are you?” she asked, sniffling. Tear tracks trailed down her dirty face. “Where are we?”

“My name is (Y/N),” you told her, untying the ropes around her hands. “I can’t say exactly where we are. I’ve been trying to figure it out since I got here.”

“Wait, how long have you been here?”

“Days. Maybe a week? I’m not sure.”

“Oh, god,” she whimpered. 

“What’s your name?”

“Julie.”

“Don’t worry, Julie. We’ll get out of here, and we’ll get to go home,” you promised. 

“How can you be so sure?”

“I used to work for the FBI. The Behavioural Analysis Unit. I saw men like him all the time. He’s devolving, he’s going to get caught, and soon.” The door started creaking open again. “Just hang in until they rescue us.”

~

The BAU had finally tracked down the unsub holding you and were gearing up to bring him in. 

“Remember, we have to keep our heads,” Rossi said. “I know this is personal, but we can’t let our emotions get the best of us.” He made a point of looking at Spencer. 

“Alright, let’s go,” Hotch said. 

The team broke into the decrepit barn where you were being held. 

“Arthur Sumner, FBI!” Hotch yelled. “Step away from the girl!” He took off in a run through the forest. Spencer started chasing after him, full speed. “Reid!”

 Rossi walked over to where you were tied to a board, your arms above your head. You were unconscious. Rossi checked your pulse and sighed when he felt your heart still beating. “We need a medic!”

~

“Where is she?” A long-haired man said, jogging down the hallway. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

“Excuse me, sir,” Spencer said, “only family is allowed in to see Ms. (L/N) right now.”

“I’m her goddamn fiance,” he said. “Who the hell are you?”

Spencer’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “I, um-”

“We’re her family,” Rossi said, saving Spencer. 

His eyebrows furrowed. “(Y/N) doesn’t have family.”

“Maybe not in the literal sense,” he said. “But when you work with someone for years and see the worst of humanity together, you become a family.”

He took a step back. “You’re David Rossi,” he realized. “I’m so sorry. I’m, I’m Gavin Lucas,” he stuttered, holding his hand out to shake Rossi’s.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Rossi said. “Come on, I’ll take you to her room. She went through a lot, so she’s heavily drugged and still unconscious.”

Rossi and the man walked down the hallway, leaving a stunned Spencer in the waiting room. 

“She’s engaged?” he whispered to no one in particular.

~

“Agent Hotchner?” a nurse said, coming into the waiting room. “She’s awake.”

Hotch thanked the nurse before saying, “Reid, Morgan, let’s go.” They walked into the room where you were attached to several machines with multiple casts and bandages covering your body. Gavin was sitting next to you, holding your hand. 

Morgan grabbed the second chair in the room and moved it next to the bed. “Hey, Angelface,” he said. “How you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you told him with a huff of a laugh. 

Gavin squeezed your hand. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he promised.

“Speaking of, if you’re her fiance, why didn’t you report her missing? Why was the landlord the one to report it?”

“Reid,” Hotch warned. 

“I was in Europe,” Gavin said, narrowing his eyes. “I take my AP students on a trip there every year.”

“Wait a minute, you go every year? Do you go at the same time every year?” Hotch asked. 

“Roughly,” he said. “It’s always after Easter break.”

“Would you mind talking with us a bit? This changes our profile.”

“Sure.” Gavin kissed the back of your hand before following Hotch and Morgan out of the room, leaving you with Spencer. Thankfully, you weren’t left alone with him for long. 

Garcia ran into the room, a giant gift basket in her arms, obscuring her face. “JJ told me you were awake.” She set the basket down and took Gavin’s empty seat. “She also told me you have a fiance. You better explain why you didn’t tell me anything about him. Who is he? What’s he like? How’d you meet? When did he propose?”

You smiled at Penelope. “His name is Gavin, he’s a high school history teacher. We met at the end of my first year at the school. I was going around to all the AP classes and telling the students my office was open if they were feeling stressed. Apparently he had a crush on me and his students knew, so they schemed ways to get him to ask me out.”

“Oh, that’s so cute,” Penelope said.

“He proposed right before New Year’s,” you said. “We went ice skating and he proposed while we were out on the rink.”

While you and Penelope were catching up, Spencer slipped out of the room, making his way back to the waiting room. 

“You alright, kid?” Morgan asked when he saw Spencer’s face.

Spencer flopped into the uncomfortable upholstered chair. “(Y/N)’s engaged.” He hid his face in his hands. “She’s engaged.”

“Yeah, she is.” Morgan sat next to Spencer.

He looked up at Morgan. “I still love her.”

“What?”

“I thought I was over her. I thought I was in love with Maeve. But I��m still in love with (Y/N).”

“Well, Reid,” Morgan said, “you broke up with her. And she moved on. She’s happy. Isn’t that the most important thing?”

Spencer chewed his lip. After a while, he said, “I guess you’re right. All I want is for her to be happy. And if this guy makes her happy, I don’t want to ruin that.” He rubbed a tear from his eye. Morgan noticed, of course, and pulled Spencer into a hug.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” he said. “We’re all here for you.”

~

“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” -Dr. Seuss

[janetbrown711]

"If I die, I'm never speaking to you again" - Wakko

Yakko had never considered himself the lucky type, which was hard to refute looking back at his past, but ever since Dot got sick, every time she lasted the night felt like a miracle. 

Scratchnsniff had been ultimately been right, staying there for three days did a lot to revive Dot’s spirits, though it was still clear she was still sick. It was just... better now. She wasn’t sweating and shivering uncontrollably anymore. 

The list of foods the doctor gave him wasn’t totally unreasonable, they were affordable and were often in the market. However, Dot had a tendency to be a picky eater, and since taste and healthiness often didn’t correlate, Yakko often had to trick or force her to eat. It was frustrating, but there was no way in hell Yakko was going to let her get away without eating, no matter how much she pleaded. She was losing weight at a frightening pace, she needed to eat. He didn’t care what she wanted. He’d do anything to keep her alive. 

And Wakko... poor kid. Wakko seemed just as- if not more- worried about Dot than Yakko was. He spent every day working as hard as he could for money, but the results were starting to get worse. The taxing on Acme Falls increased, and soon the menial tasks Wakko had been doing disappeared, as shop keepers simply couldn’t afford to lose a single ha’penny. Because of that, the amount of food they could buy was becoming scarce, so now they only had stale bread and vegetables for Dot. Everything Yakko and Wakko ate was hunted. However, the lack of business never stopped him from going into town and trying though. Yakko was pretty sure nothing could ever stop that kid from at least trying.

Still, it left Dot feeling awfully lonely. She missed her brother a lot, and was always happier when he came home. Hell, even he was happier when he was home. Goodness knows taking care of a sickly younger sister who would be running around and playing with her dolls one day and then unable to move for pain and coughing the next was damaging to one’s psyche. Wakko was a welcome relief and distraction for the both of them. 

“Whatcha thinking about Yakko?” Dot asked as she took a nibble from a piece of her stale bread. Yakko snapped out of his thoughts and noticed both of his siblings had been staring at him, probably for a while. 

“The usual,” Yakko shrugged and took a bite of his rabbit meat.

“Sorry,” Dot whispered. Yakko froze. 

“Dot, stop that. This isn’t your fault,” Yakko shot her a look. They had had this conversation roughly a million times, but no matter what he said it was never convincing enough. Dot didn’t argue this time, and just nodded her head. Yakko sighed, suddenly not hungry. He handed it to Dot. 

“Eat this too, you need your strength,” He said, standing up. 

“But Yakko-”

“No ‘buts’ Dot. Eat it.” He looked her in the eyes. “I’m going outside for a moment. When I come back in I expect all of it to be gone.”

Dot didn’t argue, thankfully. Satisfied, Yakko went outside of the small abandoned flower shop and sat down on a bench, feeling the cool air of the early mid-winter night. 

It had been two very long months since Dot had first gotten sick, and Yakko hadn’t stopped worrying since. After all, the last time he tried to relax Dot ended up sick. To say he felt guilty was a bit of an understatement. Every time she got worse, he basically spiraled into a ball of worry and never left her side, not even to take care of himself, something he also knew was bad, but he didn’t know how to stop.

Moments like these, where he was able to step outside and just... sit for a moment was nice. It was relaxing (if his mind didn’t wander and spiral, as it just had. If Yakko could have anything in the world, it would be an off switch for his brain). 

“Yakko..?” Wakko surprised his brother when he popped his head through the door. 

“Yes? Is everything okay?” Yakko said, glancing at the boarded-up window.

“Dot’s fine,” Wakko said, and Yakko relaxed again. “I just... need to talk to you.”

That part surprised Yakko. He gestured for his little brother to sit next to him, and he did. 

“Yakko, you know how there hasn’t been any work here for the last week?” Wakko said. Yakko bit his lip, how could he not? He nodded. 

“W-well, I heard rumors from the baker that a few towns over there were blacksmiths in need of apprentices and other jobs and I was thinking-”

“No.” Yakko shut him down. 

“Yakko, you didn’t let me finish,” Wakko frowned. 

“No. You aren’t leaving Acme Falls Wakko,” Yakko crossed his arms. 

“Why? I could earn more money out there than I can here,” He argued. 

“You’re barely nine years old. You can’t travel by yourself,” Yakko fought back. 

“Can too,” Wakko huffed. “You were eight when mum and dad died. You traveled alone.” 

“That is an entirely different situation Wakko and you know that,” Yakko shot him a look. 

Wakko didn’t back down, asking, “How?” 

Yakko thought hard about that. 

“Because Mom told me I had to. I’m not telling you you need to go, so you won’t,” Yakko said. 

“Yakko, stop being stubborn,” Wakko groaned and pulled at his ears. 

“You know we need the money.”

“The jobs won’t be easy- you know that, right? They’ll be borderline exploitative,” Yakko pointed out. Wakko rolled his eyes. 

“I know that, but if I go away for a year then you can really save on food and-”

“Hold up- a year???” Yakko stopped him again. Wakko looked away. 

“I-i mean... I’d try to come home earlier, but... a year most likely.”

“Wakko, we don’t know if Dot- if... if Dot has a year,” Yakko said, the words feeling like a stab in the chest to admit. Wakko’s ears lowered. 

“I know... I just- If I stay you’re gonna run out of money for Dot’s food a-and I can’t be the reason you end up not eating because money is tight,” Wakko couldn’t look at his older brother as he said that. Yakko paused, unable to speak. 

Sometimes he really hated how observant his little brother was.

“Wakko... you can’t...” Yakko tried to argue more, but something deep within himself told him that Wakko was right. 

“I’ll send any money I earn in the mail so you can keep buying Dot her medicines and stuff, maybe even get her new clothes and blankets,” Wakko explained. “I bet she’d really appreciate that.”

“She’d miss you a lot Wak...” Yakko said. Wakko sighed. 

“Yeah... I know. I really want to be here for her if something happens but I don’t know what other options are out there. I’ve thought about this a lot, it’s what I have to do,” He replied.  

“That’s evident,” Yakko ran his hands through his fur and sighed. 

“I guess... I guess you’re right, Wak,” Yakko admitted. 

“You mean you’ll let me go?” Wakko sat up. Yakko nodded and Wakko hugged him in a bone-crushing embrace. 

“Thank you thank you thank you Yakko! I won’t let you down!” Wakko smiled up at his brother. 

“Thanks for what? What’s going on?” 

The brothers froze when they saw their little sister standing in the doorway. 

“Dot- I-”

“Are you going away?” Dot asked, clutching her rag doll tightly. 

“Now Dot, Wakko and I were discussing it and-”

“You’re letting him?!” Dot’s eyes were now filled with tears. Yakko sucked in a breath, biting his words. 

“Dot-”

“No! You can’t go Wakko! I won’t let you!” Dot shouted at him. Neither brother moved. 

“Dot, we need the money-”

“I don’t care about the money Wakko! I care about you! You can’t leave me!” She pleaded with him. 

“Dot, maybe we should go back inside-” Yakko said, noticing the people around beginning to stare. 

“No!!! He can’t leave! I’ll die before he comes back!” Dot sobbed. 

“Dot- don’t say that!” Yakko scolded, trying to ignore the stares.

“NO!!! I won’t! If I die I’ll never speak to Wakko again! He can’t leave! He can’t he can’t he can’t!” She was uncontrollably sobbing now, and Wakko’s head was so low you could hardly see his eyes, but Yakko could see the tears streaming down his cheeks. 

With a determined breath, Yakko picked up his crying sister and brought her inside, Wakko followed close behind. 

“Put me down!!” She kicked and pounded her fists, but she was weak on account of her illness. Yakko set her down once Wakko closed the door. 

“Dot, I need you to calm down and let Wakko explain himself,” Yakko said. 

“Y-you’re sup-supposed to be on m-m-my side,” Dot sniffled and cried. Well, at least she was kind of calming down...

“Dot... Wakko and I just want what’s best for you. We need to be able to buy your medicine and food so you can stay strong and healthy, but right now it’s hard. There isn’t a lot of work in Acme Falls anymore and Wakko thinks there might be more opportunities outside,” Yakko explained calmly, not sure how much Dot could hear over her hiccupping and crying. 

“B-but I want Wakko to s-stay,” She said, a lot quieter this time. 

“I want to stay too Dot,” Wakko joined in. “But you need medicine and food, and for that we need money, and I can’t get the money we need here.”

Dot looked at the ground, trying to stop her crying.

“I might die and never see you again...” Dot gave in and cried again. Wakko didn’t hesitate and quickly hugged her. 

“I know... that’s what scares me...” He said. 

“So d-don’t go,” Dot looked up at him. 

Wakko sighed. “I can’t. I have to go. You’ll die a lot faster if I don’t.”

Yakko grimaced. Whether or not it was the truth, Yakko didn’t like to think about how soon Dot could easily... you know...

Dot sniffled and wiped away her tears. “I-i dunno...”

“Dot, please,” Wakko pleaded with her, before getting an idea. 

“I’ll write you letters whenever I can. We’ll keep in touch, it’ll be like I never left!” Wakko smiled, glancing at Yakko. He nodded in approval. 

Dot then glanced at Yakko. Yakko gave a similar look back, one that suggested “hey, I’m not the one in charge here, it’s whatever you wanna do”, if it translated correctly. 

“I-i’ll miss you a lot...” Dot kicked the floor. “B-but if you have to...”

Wakko smiled and hugged her again. “I knew you’d understand. You’re the best little sister ever!”

Dot smiled weakly. “I know.”

Yakko smiled too, glad she still had her sass despite everything. 

And so it was decided. Wakko was to leave the following week, spending as much time as possible with Dot- who was doing her best to try and act like she wasn’t feeling terrible and sick. But Dot never got past Yakko, and he made sure to give her more food than normal that week. 

Eventually, though, it was time for him to go, and it seemed the whole town showed up to say goodbye. At first, Yakko had been surprised at the turnout, but realized that Wakko had basically worked for all of them at one point or another. 

Yakko and Dot waited patiently for their brother to talk and say his goodbyes to everyone- even the mime, who Wakko (and most everyone else) hated. Once he was done however, the train had already pulled up, meaning their goodbyes were going to have to be quick. 

“I’m gonna miss you Wakko,” Dot said, giving him the best hug she could muster. Wakko hugged back. 

“I’m gonna miss you too, but don’t forget, I’ll write a letter as soon as I can,” He smiled. 

“You better,” Dot punched his arm. “Or else I’ll be mad.”

Wakko laughed. “Okay, okay. I got it. I’ll write, or else.”

Satisfied, Dot sat back down and it was now Yakko’s turn.

“So... you’re really going, huh?” Yakko scratched the back of his neck. 

“Yep,” Wakko said, bouncing on his heels. He knew it was getting close.

“Just-... don’t do anything stupid. And if anything happens, don’t be afraid to come home,” Yakko said. 

“I know, I know,” Wakko chuckled. They had had many conversations with that point sneaked into it several times in the past week. 

“I know you know, I’m just nervous. Mom always said to never split up,” Yakko sighed. 

“You’re a worry-wart Yakko. You need to relax, you’ll never be able to take care of Dot if you worry yourself sick,” Wakko pointed out. Yet again, Wakko flexed his amazingly strong observation skills. 

“I’ll try my best to keep that in mind,” Yakko said, and he meant it. 

“Just don’t forget to write- or else I’ll have to come find you and knock the senses back into you.” 

Wakko laughed. “I’ll write, I promise.”

Just then, the train’s whistle blew and the conductor made the last call. Wakko winced. 

“I’ll be back as soon as possible, I promise. I’ll send whatever money I can every two weeks,” Wakko said, before giving his brother a quick hug and dashing onto the train.  He then stuck his head through a window and while the train started to chug along, he waved goodbye to Acme Falls and headed off to hopefully greener pastures. 

Dot and Yakko stayed at the station waving goodbye, even after the others had left and the train was long gone. There was a void now where Wakko’s presence had once been and the two felt it strongly. 

Eventually, Dot began to cry and Yakko had to carry her back to the flower shop so she could get some rest and conserve her strength. 

He was going to have to do that a lot if they were both supposed to make it through the year. But they could do it, Dot was strong, and Yakko could make an effort not to stress himself to death. 

They were Warners. They were fighters, and none of them were going to be giving up for quite some time. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11