#and when it comes to bill IF he's not lying or mostly not lying then niw we know he has PTSD

[burningarchitecture]

Still haven't processed the book of bill tbh

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 3)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

“I like the lilac, but I just wonder if the lavender would’ve gone better with your complexion,” your mom said as she eyed you critically. You were standing on a pedestal in the middle of Sally’s Dress Shop, trying on the bridesmaids dress your mom had picked out for you to wear to her wedding. The dress was far too frilly and pastel for your taste, but if wearing it would please your mom and make this week move faster, it was worth it.

“I think this is fine, mom,” you were trying your hardest to keep your tone polite, determined to keep this outing from turning into a fight. After all, it was your mom’s wedding week, and despite all of the history between you, you really did want her to be happy. 

By the time you had returned to the table last night, your mom had already paid the bill. The three of you drove home in silence, your mom giving you her patented silent treatment. This morning when you came downstairs dressed and ready for your fitting, she simply started talking about the flower arrangements for the reception, like the night before had never happened.

“I think you chose well,” you said before your mom could change her mind on the dress again. You’re lying through your teeth, you think this dress might be one of the worst choices she's ever made, but the satisfied smile on her face makes your discomfort worth it. 

“Do a spin for me,” she asks for the tenth time today. When you roll your eyes she pouts and says, “please?”

You smile and twirl for her again, giggling when you nearly lose your footing and fall off the pedestal, grabbing your mom’s shoulder for support. Your mom laughed too, and you realized you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you laughed together. It was nice.

Rafe has been avoiding going downtown as much as possible these days, keeping his outings to the Island Club and having his friends come to him if they want to party. Even though his dad had officially taken the fall for everything, he knew people still whispered about him as he walked by. I heard he was there. I heard he did it. They say his fingerprints were on the bullets.

Today, however, he had a meeting with a potential buyer of some of the melted gold, a jeweler on main street. He slid on his sunglasses and locked his car, trying desperately to act like today was just business as usual, like he hadn’t just put a hit on his own father.

He walked quickly from his truck toward the jeweler’s store front, but stopped in his tracks as he passed Sally’s. There you were, behind the glass, spinning in a puffy purple dress, before nearly falling on your ass. He cursed himself for the way he flinched, as if he could reach out and catch you through the window. Why was it still his instinct to catch you? 

Two Years Earlier…

“Rafe!” You squealed as he pulled you through the side door of the ballroom into the dimly lit alley. “They were playing my song!”

“That’s why I had to get you outta there,” he leans over you, backing you slowly up against the wall. “You looked way too fucking good dancing to that song.”

Rafe started rifling through the layers of your prom dress impatiently, trying to get his hands on you.

“What are you doing?” You playfully swatted his arm, thinking he must be teasing you.

“I need you,” he growled.

“Right here? In the middle of this gross alley?” You started to think he might not be kidding.

He finally gets his hands under the heavy fabric of your gown and begins kneading the flesh of your ass, making you gasp. His open mouth found yours, and you can immediately taste the alcohol on his tongue. You pull back from him and reach up to grab both sides of his face, hoping your touch would ground him a bit. He looked at you frenzied, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

“Baby, are you drunk already?” You said as gently as possible.

“Just on you, baby,” he slurred, attempting to dive back in for a kiss. 

“Wait,” you turned your head, causing his mouth to miss yours and land sloppily on your ear.

“What the hell?” He backed away from you in frustration. His chest was rising and falling quickly, nostrils flaring, and you wondered if he was also high. He’d only done coke once before, as far as you knew, but you remembered how panicked he was after, his heart pounding violently as you tried to calm him down. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “We just need to slow down a bit.”

You approached him with your hand outstretched, like he was a stray dog you were trying not to scare off. He didn’t look at you, but allowed you to slip your fingers into his, squeezing gently.

“I just wanna dance with you,” you whispered softly. Je just glared back at you, so you pouted your lips, knowing he found it irresistibly cute when you did that. He couldn’t hide the crooked smirk growing on his lips, and his breath steadied.

“We can party hard later,” you promised. “But I wanna remember this part, with you.”

He looked down at your hand in his and ran his thumb over the promise ring he had given you just a few weeks ago. You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed it softly.

As you swayed softly to the next slow song, he bent down and laid a kiss on your bare shoulder. For a moment, you thought you were successful in bringing him back down to Earth. You were full of pride, truly believing that you, and only you, would always be able to fix him when he was broken. 

Now…

Rafe stood frozen at the dress shop window, just watching you. When you tucked your hair behind your ears, it was like he could still smell your pretty coconut shampoo. When you smoothed down your dress, it was like he could still feel your soft hands on his bare skin. When you said something to your mom, it was like he could still hear your voice whispering in his ear I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.

But you hadn’t meant it, had you? You couldn’t have, or you would’ve stayed. And if you had stayed, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was now. Maybe he would’ve married you, taken you away from this island like the two of you used to dream about. Maybe he wouldn’t be a thief, a liar, a killer. 

It was too late now, too late to undo it. Too late to get back to who he was before you left. But there was something about the sight of you, the presence of you, even through the tinted window glass, that made him want to try.

Decisively, he turned back toward his car, feverishly dialing Barry’s number. Praying to whatever God was good enough to create the girl in the window that it wasn’t too late.

Looking back at yourself in the mirror, you stopped short when you saw the reflection of a figure in the window. By the time you turned around, it was gone, and you were the one left wondering if you were imagining things.

Two Years Ago…

“Ma’am can you tell us what happened here tonight?” The cop questioned you.

Rafe looked up at you with pleading eyes. White button up stained with blood, eyes glassy and red. His suit jacket, the one you had picked out together to match your dress, had been ripped to shreds.

“I don’t know,” you said to the cop, not removing your disappointed eyes from Rafe, his bloodied face illuminated in the blue-red light of the sirens. 

“We’re going to need you to give a statement, ma’am,” the officer clarified, “for the record.”

“For the record…” you shook your head at the boy on the curb, arms held behind him in handcuffs. Arms that used to hold you every night, arms you didn’t know if you could trust anymore, “...I don’t know him.”

With that, you walked away, the shattered glass from your car window crunching under your heels with each step. Rafe had no choice but to sit there and watch you go, aching with something completely unrelated to the accident.

“Y/N!” He yelled after you, unable to suppress the pain in his voice.

You just kept walking.

Now…

You woke up with a start, clutching your bedsheets. Sighing, you tapped your phone screen and it lit up in the darkness. 5:53am. 

You weren’t surprised, you hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in two years. You knew how this would go, once your brain was awake there would be no turning it back off. You sighed and threw the covers off, your old childhood bed creaking loudly as you stood up. You winced at the noise, your mother was a light sleeper, a lesson you’d learned the hard way too many times. 

You pulled on an old pair of leggings and a hoodie, and slowly crept down the stairs. Once out the door, you found your old bike in the shed in the backyard and rode off into the soft morning light. No clear destination in mind, you rode around the neighborhood, down to the beach. You watched the waves crash as you passed them. It had been two years since you’d seen the ocean, and you had nearly succeeded in convincing yourself you were okay with that. But now, the sun rising over the sea, salty air consuming your senses, all the hard work you did to delude yourself unraveled.  

Without really meaning to, you ended up at the cemetery. You parked your bike and let your memory lead you right to your dad’s plot.

His grave clearly hadn’t seen visitors in a while. You made a weak effort to brush the dirt off of his headstone, before smiling and choosing to leave it as is. “God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt” your dad would’ve said. 

For a while you just sat there, fingers combing through the grass as you listened to the birds chirp loudly in the trees above.

“That ever get annoying?” You asked your dad in jest. You smile to yourself, knowing your dad wouldn’t have minded. He was too easy going, the calm current that kept you and your mom afloat. Suddenly hit with a pang of longing to see your father again, you wished that you had something to leave here for him. You noticed a grave a few plots over, completely covered in fresh blooming flowers. 

“Somebody was popular,” you say to your dad’s headstone. “I’m sure they won’t miss one flower right?”

You stand and approach the grave, wondering who it was that inspired such an outpouring of love. 

“Sheriff Susan Peterkin” 1977-2020

You frowned. She must’ve died recently, then. Strange that your mom hadn’t said anything, surely Chip had known her, being on the force. You remembered Peterkin, she came to your school every year when you were growing up. Back then, she was just a beat cop who pulled the short straw and had to give the anti-bullying presentation, but you remember her being very nice.

You plucked a tulip from one of her many bouquets and felt like you should say something.

“Um, hi. I don’t know if you knew my dad, but I think you would’ve liked him. I’m sorry for whatever happened, but thanks for always being so cool.”

As you walked away from her grave, you noticed another newly dug plot a few yards away. The plot was small, if something was buried here, it wasn’t a body. Still, there was a small plaque over the fresh dirt. You approached, having to get pretty close before you could make out the name…

“Ward Cameron.”

Your knees buckled beneath you, the tulip you were holding slipping from your grasp. This grave couldn’t have been here for more than what, a few weeks? The grass had barely begun to grow. Maybe your mom could have just forgotten to tell you about Sheriff Peterkin, but surely the very recent death of Ward Cameron hadn’t just slipped her mind. Clearly, something bigger was going on. 

And Rafe…Rafe.

You regained your footing and started running, past Sheriff Peterkin’s grave, past your father’s, blowing him a quick kiss.

You found your bike and started pedaling as fast as you could. Not even pausing to think through what you’d say when you got there, just knowing you needed to see him, to be with him. Suddenly, it made more sense. He was grieving. Their relationship was complicated, but even when he was pissed at him, Rafe still worshiped his father.

You pulled up to Tannyhill, but the gate was closed. You tried some of the gate codes you remembered the Camerons used to rotate through, but none of them worked. After your fifth attempt, the system locked you out. You rang the bell, not sure if he would even let you in when he realized it was you, but you had to try. No answer, he must not have been home.

You sat by the wall for a few hours, waiting for him to get home. Eventually, your stomach ached with hunger, and you really had to pee. You decided to go home, collect yourself, and come back later. 

By the time you arrived home on your bike, it was almost noon. Chip was just walking in the front door, home from work. He had been pulling double overnight shifts to pay for the wedding and he looked exhausted. Luckily for both of you, the wedding was just a few days away now, and all of this would be behind you soon.

When you walked in the living room, he was mid-conversation with your mother, who quickly shushed him at the sight of you. He looked at her in confusion, clearly not reading the silent message she was trying to send with her eyes.

“What’s going on?” You asked, feeling just as lost as Chip.

“Just telling your mom how we brought in that Cameron boy again last night-” your mother cut him off with a harsh, “Chip!” and he threw his hands up in surrender.

You and your mother looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing, and at the same time, everything. 

“Don’t,” she pleaded quietly.

You turned fast and ran toward the door, grabbing her car keys and your purse off the dining room table as you passed.

“Y/N, do not do this,” your mom was up from the couch, running after you as you headed for the front door. “Tonight is my bachelorette party and tomorrow we have the rehearsal!”

“I’ll be back in time, I just have to-”

“No you don’t! You don’t have to!” She yelled, trying to grab the handle of the door before you could get to it, but you beat her to it and threw open the door.

“I’m sorry,” you called behind you as you ran to her car in the driveway. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t bother,” she yelled from the front steps. 

You stopped in your tracks, hands pausing on the handle of her car door as you whipped your head towards her in surprise.

“If you leave right now,” she said, eerily composed, “If you go to him, I don’t want you at my wedding. If you do this, y/n…I don’t ever want to see you again”

Your mother had said many harsh words to you in moments of frustration that she tried to take back later, but the way she was talking to you now, her tone so even and her words so carefully selected, you wondered if she’d practiced this speech. Then it dawned on you, she knew you would do this. She knew if you found out about Ward, that you’d run to Rafe’s side. And she was fully prepared to cut you out.

You opened the car door and got in, not looking back at your mom as you peeled out of the driveway.

Twelve Years Earlier…

“No, Rafe,” you scolded, hands on your hips. “You’re the cop, and I’m the robber!”

“Well too bad. I wanna be a robber, too,” he said, taking off the plastic sherriff's badge you had given him and throwing it in the playground dirt. 

“We can’t both be robbers, that doesn’t make any sense,” you told him. 

The rules of make-believe were very clear, and you’d always been a rule follower. That is, until you started spending your recesses playing with Rafe Cameron. He was always in trouble.

“Sure we can, we’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde!” He encouraged, handing you his plastic toy gun.

“Bonnie and Clyde,” you agreed with a smile, taking the gun.

Suddenly, you didn’t care so much about breaking the rules. Not if it meant you got to keep playing with him.

(chapter 4)

a/n: y'all are blowing me away with all your kindness about this story!! I hope you keep loving it!!! Lots more to come (including some smut if you're patient🤫) 🫶

If you asked to be on the taglist and I forgot you, I'm sorry and please let me know!!

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @maibelitaaura @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @v0lturiaq

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

more of jessie lying wetly

chapter one

chapter two

cool art by @hamandeggbun

and brand new shiny chapter three. on god I am not allowed to post another one until I finish writing chapter ten.

The interior decor of One-Eyed Polly’s had changed precious little since the last time Jessie saw it, although the floors were a little more scratched up and the felt on the pool table had acquired some upsetting new stains. The only thing that had changed was the enormous NO SMOKING sign on the back wall, right where everyone could see it. 

The second she stepped inside of the bar the universe conspired to give her the entrance of a stranger blowing into town in an old Western, with the jukebox pausing between songs and conversation hitting a lull just as she stepped on a creaky floorboard, drawing all eyes to herself. She flashed an ice cold Frostbite smile, tossed her hair, and wished desperately that she’d worn her costume. It would make her look like a total douchebag, sure, but it would also remind everyone she was dangerous.  

Jessie strode back to the bar like it was a catwalk anyway, but the whispers and mutters that followed her were not promising.

“Still owes me twenty dollars.”

“Did I tell you she blocked me?”

“I thought she got arrested.”

“What did Sub-Zero say?”

Okay. Okay. Not awesome, but it was fine. They could say anything they wanted about her, but how many of these washouts and wannabes would actually try anything? None of them. They didn’t know that she was unarmed and floundering without her brother. She hadn’t worn her costume because she didn’t need to; her reputation was still strong enough to protect her. Not to mention she wanted all of these dweebs to see her wearing jeans that cost more than their mortgage payments and choke on the jealousy.

Maudie was behind the bar, grayer and butcher than ever. Her face was lined now, enough that it gave Jessie pause. Was her godmother getting old now? When did that happen?

Not that Maud was letting it soften her up at all. She raised a bushy brow at Jessie by way of greeting and launched right into putting her through the wringer. “Well, well. Look at that. A real-deal supervillain graces us with her presence. Thank you for deigning to descend from the gravy train, your highness.” 

“Aww, Maudie, come on. Don’t be like that, it’s my birthday.”

“As if I don’t know. Did you get your card?”

“Did you send one?”

Maud rolled her eyes, hard. “Of course I sent one. What kind of schmuck do you take me for?”

Of course she wouldn’t know; Jessie hadn’t checked her mailbox in at least a week. 

She realized, with despair, that there were tears crowding up around the edges of her eyes, little pinpricks begging to be let loose. When had she gotten so sappy? She wasn’t even most excited about the crisp fifty dollar bill that Maudie always tucked inside of her cards, although that was a relief. It was mostly that someone had even remembered she existed and wanted to do something nice for her that was really turning her into goo. 

“Well, I appreciate it,” she said, choking down her onslaught of emotions. Maudie would hate her making a scene like that; she never knew what to do when people cried. “But, hey, I’m not here to talk about me. How are you doing? Are you feeling alright?”

“The hell do you mean, do I feel alright?”

“Well, you always said that you’d only make people stop smoking in here over your dead body. And now nobody’s smoking, so I figure you must have gotten real close to having a dead body.”

Maudie snorted. “We had a scare last year. Doctor thought he had something, turned out not to be serious. But you know how the dames are. Next thing I know, nobody’s allowed to smoke in here and I’m getting yelled at if I don’t eat vegetables and go for a fuckin’ walking every morning.”

She shook her head, fondly exasperated. The dames were the two iron-tongued femmes Maudie had been in a relationship with for decades, largely considered to be the real masterminds behind One-Eyed Polly’s. According to Maudie, they only kept her around to look pretty and serve the drinks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jessie demanded. “We could have helped with the bills, or I could have brought over soup. Something.”

“I didn’t want to bother you, kid. Your brother made it pretty clear that you were busy.” And then, before Jessie could apologize or otherwise risk making things sentimental, Maudie cleared her throat sharply. “You want a drink, or what? First round’s free for the birthday girl.”

“Yeah? Let’s do a straight whiskey and a burger,” Jessie said, knowing damn well that she’d be drinking nothing but dirt cheap beer for the rest of the night. “Do the fries still come with that, or is it extra?”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I charge people extra for a side of fries. That shit comes with the burger,” Maud said gravely.

There were a lot of things that could stand to be improved about One-Eyed Polly’s, but the food was not one of them. So what if the fry cook telepathically talked with rats? He could work a grill. The basket that arrived in front of Jessie contained a beautifully constructed medium rare burger packing the exact correct amount of grease, surrounded by steak fries that had been seasoned to absolute perfection. Pardon Jessie while she drooled a little bit. 

“Hey, Maudie,” she said, half a burger later. “You still have Joney’s van?”

Her godmother raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch, which for Maud was an expression of profound skepticism. “I’d love to know how the hell you think I could’ve lost it.”

“No no, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to see if I could grab it from you.”

“Can’t get your car back from Voltzz, huh?”

“Hmm?” Jessie asked, playing dumb.

“Do not try the bimbo act on me, Jessica Jolene. You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“God. How did you even hear about that?”

“Are you kidding? I hear about everything in here. We had a bunch of schlubs in here doing shots at noon because they thought Ricochet dragged you off for good.”

“Okay, tacky.” Jessie licked her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry despite an abundance of gloss. “Maudie, can I ask you a question? It seems like I’m maybe, um, not very popular around here.”

Maud stared her down with eyes like chisels. “That’s not a question.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, kiddo. They hate your guts.”

“Maudie!”

Jessie’s complaining was cut short by a sweaty, nervous-looking man appearing from the kitchen and hurrying to Maudie’s side. He shot Jessie a look that could really only be described as distrustful, then leaned in close to deliver his message to Maud. She shrugged him away almost before he finished speaking, peeved by his damp proximity.

“So get her shift covered. Why do you need my permission for that? Call Billy. Or, hell, see if Tash can make it in. She’s always dying for extra shifts. Tell Jordan I’ll come sort her out in a minute and then get your ass back out here to cover the bar. The dishes can wait.”

Maudie sighed and turned back to Jessie as her dishwasher departed, shaking her head. She suddenly looked about a hundred years old. “Kid, I miss the days when the worst I had to deal with was bartenders coming in drunk.”

“What happened?”

“One of my girls, Jordan. She’s got that fucking, what do they call it? Void pox? She kept going see-through when she came in but she swore she’d be fine. Except she’s not fine, she started getting these little cartoon demons popping out of her head. Pretty harmless, only about this big, but if I never have to kill another one with a broom it’ll be too soon. Anyway, I had her sitting down in the back, but now she’s starting to make things levitate and I can’t have that. I need to find her a ride home.”

“Could I come see her?” Jessie asked with, in hindsight, way too much enthusiasm.

Her godmother hit her with a look that was genuinely withering. “You can keep your ass right here and be nice to Nikesh while he tends the bar. And you can leave Jordan alone. It’s a 24-hour bug, she’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

“I know that!”

“So drop it, then! For once in your life, don’t get so pushy about this superhero shit.”

Maud ducked back into the kitchen on that deeply unencouraging note, sending poor Nikesh back out to hold down the bar in her stead. He studiously avoided Jessie’s gaze when she asked him how his night was going, spitting out single syllable answers until she gave up and asked for a hard cider, which he provided without once actually turning his face in her direction. Jessie dropped a five in the tip jar anyway, because she believed very firmly that you were supposed to tip generously unless the waiter had purposefully set you on fire and maybe even then. Running through the last of your money in the entire world was no excuse to be a lousy customer.

The problem being, of course, that she had hoped this would be a case of spending money to make money. She’d shell out a little for a night at One-Eyed Polly’s, reestablish herself as a villain of the people, and announce that she was hiring to thunderous applause. Henchpeople out the door, heaps of cash secured, the money that she’d pissed away on bottom shelf booze now a worthwhile investment. 

Unfortunately, all of that had depended on there being someone, anyone, left in town who didn’t hate her guts.

“Hey, Nikesh? Do you like working here?”

“It’s a living,” he said, still looking down. 

“If I offered to pay you, like, five times what you’re making right now, would you work for me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Ten times?” 

He actually looked at her for a fleeting second, his gaze touching off hers for just a moment. Jessie was vomitously aware that there was something that looked a lot like pity in his face. “Look, lady. It’s not about the money. It’s about not wanting to get my ass kicked.”

“Jesus Christ. Am I really that bad for business?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is that why you won’t even look at me?”

“Yeah. You understand. Can’t look like we’re getting friendly.”

“Respect. You gotta look out for number one, Nikesh. I can throw a drink on you, if you want.”

“Yeah? That might be good, actually. We could make people think I said something really nasty to you. That could actually be great for my rep.”

Jessie groaned, resting her face in her hands. This was going to be an absolute non-starter. Polly’s was the biggest rat-hole in town; everyone knew that this was a place where people would turn a blind eye to almost anything. Everyone put aside their beef here, because the place would never function if they didn’t and no one wanted to be the asshole who ruined the only functioning villain bar in town. If a bartender was too scared to even look at her directly, Jessie’s reputation must be worse than dirt.

Why? Because of last night’s embarrassing little tantrum? Couldn’t be it. Nobody complained about the time Voltzz snorted bath salts and went on a rampage, or when Incinerator got drunk and started taking potshots at cop cars. Hell, if anything they’d both gotten more popular after that. Jonas might sneer at the lack of precision and control, but Jessie had tried to tell him a thousand times that people liked to see a supervillain go a little off the rails. It was aspirational, right? It let people imagine what they might do, if they had the power to really cut loose.

Why was she different? Sure, people hated to see a woman having fun, but that couldn’t possibly explain all of it. Maudie could probably explain it, whenever she finished mopping up the poor sap with the void pox. Maudie heard about everything. 

In the meantime, she might as well try to make the most of her evening. If she wasn’t going to be making new friends, she could at least have a little fun. Who cared about her bank account? If she was screwed, she might as well go out with a splash. 

“Nikesh? Open me up a tab. It’s my birthday and I want shots.”

***

Jessie Chilton was not a lightweight. Despite spending most of her early life watching her father get eaten alive by booze she had an exceedingly friendly relationship with alcohol, and could usually hold her drinks pretty well. Jonas had never touched the stuff, erring hard on the side of caution, but Jessie knew that she could stop any time she wanted.

Her miserable 26th birthday was not that time. That night she drank like the world was going to end, because it very possibly was. Her world, at least, and what else was she supposed to worry about? She knew damn well the scope of what she could be held responsible for, and presently it was mostly downing as much tequila as she could.

Which meant she ended up in the bathroom, eventually, because all of that liquid had to go somewhere, and in the time-honored tradition of wasted girls everywhere she got weird about it. While Jessie sat in the cramped and questionably-lit stall she started thinking about how she’d very nearly been born in this very room and what a miserably inauspicious start that was, and how perhaps she should have known that her life was always doomed to go down the toilet despite a decade or so of delusionally believing that she might be meant for something better. She wished that she had some friends to cry to, and briefly regretted the loss of Whirligig. Getting sloppy drunk and crying in club bathrooms together had been about the only thing that friendship was good for, but sometimes that was all she needed it to be. 

In the absence of anywhere else to turn Jessie called the person who had almost always been there for her, until he spectacularly wasn’t.

Hey, Joney. It’s your favorite sister. And I know what you’re thinking: ‘Jessie, you’re my only sister, why are you doing exposition like a lunatic?’ Well, it’s because you haven’t been acting like I’m your favorite sister lately, or like you even know me, so I figured maybe you needed the reminder.

Did you even notice it’s my birthday? You’ve never forgotten it in my entire life. But you know who remembered? Uncle Ray. And Maud. And that’s fucking it. And Ricochet was soooOOOOOOoooo mean to me this morning. Like, you wouldn’t believe. She’s getting way too cocky, if you ask me. You should come back and kick her ass into orbit. Remind her who’s boss around here.

You should come back in general, actually. I miss you. But I’m also mad at you. It’s, like, a real dick move to take off and not even leave me with any money. I mean, I had money. Past-tense. But it’s gone now. I could have, like, I could have definitely spent it better. Smarter? I got these really stupid expensive boots with real crystals on them and then when I tried to return them they said I couldn’t because there was a scuff on the toe, which is like… whatever. I’m wearing them right now even though they’re way too fancy for Polly’s. Might as well get my money’s worth.

But I also just don’t have anything. Like, where’s the bank account? Where is the bank account, Jonas? I earned half that money, so why can’t I… I mean, you literally never told me how to get into it. To my money. Which I guess in hindsight was, like, I should have had a problem with that way sooner, but you made it sound extremely reasonable! And now I’m this close to Uncle Ray throwing me out on my ass, because I couldn’t pay the May rent and I can’t pay the June rent, either, at the rate things are going. I opened a tab at Polly’s and I don’t have enough to pay it, so now Maudie’s going to be mad at me, I think. I don’t know, I’m not even actually sure how a tab works. Isn't that stupid? I'm, like, so mad at myself lately got how much stuff I don't know.

Everybody’s mad at me.

And you won’t even call me back, and I can’t even afford toilet paper, so that’s, like, a lot. And I’m not handling it well. And I’m drank as a skank at Polly’s, in case you couldn’t tell, so go ahead and get your panties twisted up about that. I’m fucking spiraling, buddy. I’m in my fucking up era out here.

So. You should come home.

Or at least tell me where you are or what you’re doing or why you left, okay? Because I hate no knowing that. We’re supposed to tell each other things. And I’m scared about what’s going to happen if you’re gone much longer because, like, everything is going wrong. And I think you might have really left me screwed here, okay? Which is crazy, because it was supposed to be you and me against the world, but I’m not fucking seeing it right now. 

By this point Jessie was crying and snotting pretty hard, absorbed enough in her own agonies that she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone in the bathroom until someone rapped lightly on the door of her stall and almost scared her shitless.

“Hey. You okay in there?”

It was not the voice of someone particularly warm and fuzzy or confident about checking in on a stranger, which actually made it a little sweeter that they’d bothered.

“I’m fine,” Jessie lied, wetly. “I’m just, like, I’m on the phone.”

“Yeah, I can hear that.” Whoever they were, they were sorely tempted to leave it at that and go back to minding their own business. Jessie could tell. Outside the stall, a pair of tennis shoes that had been worn damn near to dust rocked back and forth, weighing the options. “I just wanted to say that they’re not worth it. Whoever’s making you feel this bad, you shouldn't waste your time on them.”

“Okay,” Jessie said. And then, into the message she was still leaving for her brother: “I have to go, a nice girl in this bathroom says you’re not worth it. Please call me, love you, bye.”

“Great,” the stranger said dryly. “Crushed it.” Their beaten-in shoes scuffed away, back over to the sinks. Had Jessie missed an entire other person pissing next to her? God, that was embarrassing.

She wadded up some genuinely horrific single ply toilet paper and dabbed at her face, hoping she didn’t look too atrocious. All of her makeup was waterproof, which had to count for something. “Hey, thank you for that. I really needed someone to snap me out of it. I was being so pathetic.”

“Whatever,” said the voice by the sinks. “Don’t beat yourself up. I’ve been there, I get it.”

Jessie’s heart was getting squeezed around like one of those awful tubes full of goo and glitter and little plastic animals, the kind that everyone used to make jerk off motions. Who was this? Would they still be so nice to her if they knew who she was? What were the odds she could salvage a single actual friend out of this wretched garbage fire of a day? It didn’t even have to be a lifelong bestie, just someone she could have a few drinks with. 

“My name is Jessie,” she said hesitantly.

She heard her new friend sigh. “I’m Tash.”

“Do you come here often? I’m not asking that in the pervert way, I’m just curious if you’re, like, a regular.”

“I work here,” Tash said, with as much contempt as anyone had ever had for their workplace.

“Oh. Do you like it?”

“Sucks shit. But, you know. You do what you’ve got to do.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Are you okay in there? I’m gonna get my ass reamed if I let somebody drown in the toilet.”

“No, I’m okay. I’m just, you know.” Which was a fucking nothing explanation, but Jessie’s voice was still damp and wavering enough that it presumably got the point across. “I need a moment to get it together.”

“I hear that,” Tash said. “I usually use the walk-in when I need a second.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s not very big, but it’s quiet. And the cold kind of helps pull me together, I guess. Stay focused.” She cleared her throat again. “Sorry to dump that on you.”

“No, that’s okay. It makes sense,” said Jessie, noted cold enjoyer. “Do you keep anything fun in there? Maud’s never let me see it.”

“You know Maud?”

“Yeah, since I was a kid. Isn’t she the best?”

“She’s a real son of a bitch. But she's the only boss I’ve ever believed when she says she gives a shit about me, though.”

“Sounds like Maudie,” Jessie agreed fondly. “Anyway, what’s in the walk-in?”

“Fucking nothing exciting. Burger patties, mostly. I don’t know. Like I said, not a lot of room.”

“Plenty of room for you.”

“Yeah, every time I have a total breakdown at work.”

“Does that happen a lot? No judgment, obviously. Pot .”

“I don’t know.” Tash sighed. “More often than you’d hope. Which is never, obviously. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“What?”

“Your favorite color,” Jessie insisted. “I love asking people that. Nobody ever cares after you turn, like, twelve, right? But I care. And it’s a lot more chill than talking about, you know. Our favorite places to completely freak out in a shithole bar.”

“Okay. Sure,” Tash said. Everything about the strain in her voice suggested she was not naturally inclined towards whimsy, but at least she was making the effort to play along. “Will you assume I have clinical depression if I say gray?”

“Yes.”

“Well, joke’s on me, because I love gray and I do have clinical depression. But purple is also good. I like purple.”

“What shade? Eggplant? Periwinkle?”

“Just a nice, medium purple, I guess. Like, the platonic ideal of purple.”

Jessie had no idea what a platonic ideal was or why anyone would ever need to specify that they weren't trying to have sex with a color, but she was sitting on her stupid little toilet nodding like an idiot anyway because it felt so good to be making a connection with someone. “I dig that. Purple is good.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, cerulean for sure. With sparkles, ideally.”

“That’s blue, right?”

“Yeah. My jacket is actually, like, that exact color, I can show you.” Jessie sniffled tremendously, getting shakily to her feet and pleased to discover that she was feeling much more sober than when she’d wandered into the bathroom some time ago. And now look at her! Practically having a whole meet cute. What a turn around on the evening. “Okay, I’m coming out now. Don’t gag if my makeup’s a mess, I’m going to fix it.”

She tossed her hair and stepped out of the stall, at which point several things happened to her in rapid succession.

Tash was standing underneath one of the humming, flickering lights that barely managed to illuminate the dark cave of the ladies’ room. She struck a slim figure, drowning in a huge hoodie with two skinny black-clad legs sticking out like a cartoon character. She was wiping down the sinks but turned as Jessie emerged, the fuzzy light illuminating her from the back like a bargain bin halo.

The first thing Jessie noticed was that Tash was a lot shorter than she had been expecting.

The second was that Tash had beautiful eyes. 

The third was that those beautiful eyes and indeed her entire face were curdling up in horror as recognition set in.

“What the fuck,” she said. “Frostbite?”

The recognition and reaction alone weren’t surprising, given the colossal combined levels of notoriety and bad PR Jessie was currently enjoying. The part that nearly knocked her on her ass was that recognized Tash back.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, overjoyed and utterly failing to read the room. “Night Noir? Holy shit, girlie, I thought you were dead!”

[hijinxinprogress]

YJ being awful at sharing things (mostly bc they’re used to handling things themselves bc there was no one for them to depend on during their childhood)

YJ is great at subterfuge and lying but they keep unnecessary things on a need-to-know basis like their favorite colors so when people are like “why didn’t you tell me?? I can help! I hope you know you can come to me if you need anything” and yj responds like a stray animal being shown affection for the first time “with what?? nothing’s wrong…go away…” but they’re always injured or about to be whether it’s physical or psychological 

Cissie didn’t tell anyone she was allergic to walnuts until Oliver almost killed her at a mandatory family dinner (they also didn’t know she was in the Olympics or dating Kon until they were cornered by reporters in public who wanted to know if Kon was aware she had a relationship with Oliver Queen) (Roy had a very one sided beef with Kon for about three weeks once he saw the interviews)

Yj is outed for smoking when Bart gets caught with weed and the jl (mostly Barry) are lecturing him about the dangers of marijuana and Wally’s yelling bc they thought it was the titans smoking while bart just shrugs and he’s like “I thought you knew, it’s not like we were hiding it” they call a meeting w/ yj but Cissie’s just like “I mean what are you gonna do about it? You’re a couple years too late to be concerned” and behind them, an irritated Kon passes a handful of bills to a smug Anita

Or Tim’s been stabbed for the 5th time this week (and didn’t tell anyone bc he’s Tim) Cassie tries to hand him tequila and Bart looks at them like they’re stupid “he can’t drink that” and dicks in the background “no he can’t bc he’s literally a baby and so are all of you!!” and Anita reaches over to Kon who’s not paying attention and he’s like “yeah, rob got stabbed like an hour ago and didn’t say anything bc he’s a squirrelly little shit” and dick launches himself across the room holding 17 medical packs (he was supposed off planet for the next three months)

Diana hears yj refer to Cassie with they/them pronouns and pulls them aside to ask if they want to change their name (hero and civilian) and why they didn’t feel comfortable sharing their identity with her and Cassie just goes “I didn’t think it was a big deal”

Most people think that Anita’s raising her children so older heroes with make comments about her being too young to be a parent or being irresponsible for being a parent so young along with how it makes them unable to trust her judgment as a hero (Steph once made an offhanded comment about Anita being a real hero for raising twins after she cussed out an older hero) but no one outside of yj learns the truth until dr. fate shows up talking about irreparable damage being done to the timeline (the nearest speedster gets dirty looks despite not being at fault this time)

Yj invites Greta to the watchtower and she meets Constantine who starts going on about her being death-touched, possessed, and rambling about dark magic so he ends up calling the rest of jl dark which is how the jl finds out about Secret years after the fact

Kon casually makes jokes about Lex’s attempts on his life, Lex and Clark attempting to win him over to get one over on each other, Lex or Clark disliking him, his death, and the period of time Kon was homeless which is usually how anyone outside of yj finds out about things going on in his life

The jl loses their shit when they learn how often yj hide each other in their homes when they don’t have anywhere else to go (batman buys trackers in bulk when he finds out Tim has a secret house) 

[gerec]

any fics which charles has the same vibe as Our House, In The Middle Of Our Street or Paper Monsters, aka fics in which Charles embarrasses himself due to the big crush he has for Erik.

Guys I have one more ask to answer after this one and then I'm officially taking a short break on answering rec posts. But I plan to pin a master post on my blog of the stuff I get asked most frequently for easy reference. Stay tuned and happy reading!!!

-------

Hi Anon, I believe the hilarious/charming fics on this list mostly fit the bill :D

best-laid plans by ikeracity

Charles decides that the best way to confess his feelings to his best friend is to surprise Erik at his apartment, naked, wearing nothing but a bow. It's perhaps one of Charles's worst ideas--or his best.

Order Up by ikeracity

Charles has a terrible habit of multitasking, and that is probably why he absentmindedly tells the pizza man that he loves him when hanging up.

Then the pizza man says it back. And Charles is pretty much smitten from there.

Favorite Mistake by endingthemes

Charles Xavier doesn’t think anything of it when he sneaks out without even saying goodbye to his latest one-night stand. What he doesn’t expect is to walk into his new position in the Xavier Industries marketing department and find that his latest hook-up is now his new boss.

erikhotfacelehnsherr by ikeracity

Charles has an embarrassing wifi password. When the subject of said embarrassing wifi password comes over, things get a little awkward.

going up? by annejumps

Charles encounters a hot man in the elevator. Charles assumes he doesn't understand English. Charles might be wrong.

Never Assume (Remix of going up?) by Fullmetalcarer

Charles fixates on a devastingly attractive lizard person who shares his turbo-lift and makes certain assumptions about their linguistic skills . . .

come as you are by scarlettblush

Hospital AU. The one where Charles unknowingly woos a coma patient with Pride and Prejudice. Years later, they meet again.

What Doesn't Kill You (Tactics and Strategy Remix) by pearl_o (don't forget to read the original!)

Charles is a graduate student with a crush on the professor he's TA-ing for and a side job at a strip club. Thankfully, his little sister is always full of helpful advice.

Smoke and Mirrors by dreamweavers

When newly paralysed Charles meets Erik in a coffee shop, a fit of nerves prompts him to project himself standing without need of his wheelchair. It all backfires when Erik asks him out on a date, forcing Charles to deepen his lies and, ultimately, face his fears.

Warning: Emergency Pull Tab by ikeracity

Knocking a guy over with an inflatable pool and nearly giving him a concussion is probably not the best flirting technique in the world, but if there's anyone who can pull it off, it's Charles.

Is it Erik with a C or a K? by ikeracity, kageillusionz

When Charles sexts his boss instead of his latest squeeze during one late night of report writing, the first thing he expects is a sexual harassment law suit and the last thing is Mr. Lehnsherr actually fucking him hard into his desk.

Infamous Ink by ConsultingWriter 

Charles has an embarrassing tattoo and a date with the no-nonsense, always professional, and terribly handsome Erik Lehnsherr.

The Wurst Case Scenario by sareyen

If anyone asked why Charles, come rain, wind or shine, made the significant trek during his dismal lunch hour to dine at "Edie's Kosher Delicatessen", he would stubbornly say that it was because their pastrami on rye and potato knishes were absolutely to die for. He wasn't completely lying, because the deli's namesake, Edie Lehnsherr, made the best matzah ball soup Charles has ever had in his life. Still, Charles would rather shave his full head of hair off than admit that the real reason he would willingly walk through hail and fire to get to the corner deli was because of Erik, the insanely attractive man working the counter.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Only One Alive

Bleeding in Moonlight: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three |

CW: Buried alive, digging out of grave, referenced mass murder, werewolves, nonhuman whumpee, captivity, escape, dehumanizing language, my boy is a survivor

-

Earlier

Misae hadn't known what was happening, at first. 

He’d been locked up alone in a cage in the barn for a week straight after accidentally nipping at Ada’s hand the last time the humans had cut him to take blood. He’d been able to hear the noise of the packs in the kennels, at least, and had sometimes howled just to hear their answering howls in return - until Bill or somebody else came out and yelled and they all went silent again. 

All day, there had been the grumbling roar of machinery somewhere off in the big clearing behind Bill’s house, where the humans lived. All day, things had driven close and then far, close and then far. When Bill’s younger son Aaron had brought Misae his midday meal, he’d dropped the bowl through the bars in a hurry so he could rush back outside, to help or to watch. He’d ignored Misae’s hesitant questions - until the moon rose, he’d been human in shape, curled up in the cage with a blanket over his lap. 

The real humans always ignored them, or hurt them, when they tried to speak. Misae mostly didn’t talk anymore. He had been whipped too many times to keep trying.

It was only after the moon rose, and the shift had taken hold and the voices of Misae’s family had switched from soft human speech to rumbling growls and howling, that the machinery stopped its cacophony.

Shortly after that, the dying began.

At first, the sounds he could hear didn't make any sense. Misae had flattened his own ears against his head to muffle the shouting of the real humans, but it still hurt. Even here, forgotten inside the barn, all the yelling and ordering and threats had been deafeningly loud to his canine ears. 

He’d ended up trying to press his paws up and over them, but even that wasn’t enough.

The sounds the packs made were even more confusing. He could hear the cries of them all, young and old. One of those howls might be his mother, or a deeper pleading for mercy could have been from his father, but the children born in the kennels were never told who had borne them. 

The humans didn’t think werewolves should remember their children, who Bill called ‘puppies’, so they took them after 12 weeks and washed their parents’ smells off them and then handed them off to be raised in the kennels by all the shifters together. 

Misae had never know which voice singing a lullaby might have been the first. Everyone was his mother or father, and no one was. 

For a while, lying in that cage in the barn, he’d heard the pleading and the shouting, fear and rage, uncertainty and maybe even occasional hope that this might be freedom.

Then the first shots rang out.

The loud, horrible sounds of the special gun with its huge silver bullets had gone on and on and on. There had been high-pitched squeals and canine screams. Maybe they were being moved, and needed to be herded onto trailers. They’d moved once, a long time ago when Misae was still carried on someone’s hip. They’d been pushed into trailers in sweltering summer heat and driven from Bill’s last house to this new one, built far away from everyone and everything. 

A few from the packs had protested and tried to fight back. The guns had come out, then - the first time Misae had ever heard them. A couple of the wolves had been shot to show all the others how serious Bill was, and they’d all been good then.

So, for a while, Misae thought they were just herding the wolves, and shooting stragglers or fighters.

But… the shots didn’t stop.

They went on and on and on, with the humans only pausing long enough to reload before firing again. 

The howls of pain built, voices layering over each other. Something was happening that had never happened before, in Misae’s memory. They weren’t culling, killing the rebels and fighters to leave behind the softer, sadder, obedient wolves to be studied. 

Misae was listening to them die.

All of them.

It was Austin who eventually remembered Misae, alone in the barn. Austin came in with a white face and white-rimmed walleyes to unlock Misae’s cage. He tossed a loop of heavy rope over his head, jerking it tight enough to choke him as he slowly dragged him out. Misae [pressed himself against the back of the cage and dug his paws into the dirt, but he wasn’t strong enough. His nails left marks in the dirt. 

Tail tucked under his body, he was forced inch by inch towards the barn door and the squeals and whines and whimpers. They were begging not to die, asking why. The packs had been so good when studied. They had been obedient animals and they cried in confusion and terror when it wasn’t enough, asking the humans over and over why this was happening, what they had done wrong.

The humans couldn’t hear any of it. They didn’t have the right kind of ears.

But Misae did.

Later, he would see that Bill’s family shot the werewolves with silver under the light of the full moon because it was easier to kill them as wolves rather than face murdering them as men. At the time, though, he understood nothing but his own fear. His only awareness was of the pounding beat of his heart being maybe the last thing he would ever feel other than pain, the darkness that would follow it, and finally the promised, inevitable fires of Hell.

Monsters only had one afterlife, after all. Bill always said so. 

“Come on, Rusty, you stupid fucker,” Austin snarled, but his heart wasn’t in the anger he put into his voice. Misae dimly realized Austin was scared, too. “Dad will blow a gasket if he realizes I forgot you were in here-... come on!”

Misae whined. Austin jerked the noose tight again to cut the sounds off, but he wouldn’t look right at Misae as he pulled him along. Austin looked like he’d seen a ghost. No, he looked like what he was - someone not much older than Misae was, forced to make ghosts. He’d probably made three dozen of them by now as Misae listened-

Misae tossed his head back and howled.

No one answered the call.

No one was left with enough breath to do it.

There was a big hole dug in the clearing.

That’s what the machinery had been doing all day, dragging huge piles of earth up and out, depositing it into a big pile off to one side. A hole like a wound in the grass had been left, nearly filled now by blood and fur and open, unseeing eyes. The sight loomed so large in Misae’s mind that he didn’t really see it at all.

His mind instead simply let horror wash over him even as it refused to accept the images his eyes tried to share. He would never be able to clearly recall the sight. He owed it to them, his pack, his family, to remember their deaths but his eyes and his brain would never allow it. Instead, he heard the sounds.

Some of them were still whimpering, when Misae was pushed up to the edge of the hole. Some of them were still whining. Some of them were only breathing, loud, heavy gasps that held too much blood in struggling lungs. He heard them all.

He would hear them all in his sleep, when he slept, for the rest of his life.

When Misae turned his head away from the horror of the pit, his eyes met the depthless black of the barrel of Austin’s gun instead. Austin’s hands were shaking, and the barrel kept dancing too far to the right or the left, unable to settle on its aim. 

Misae dropped his head slightly. He let out a soft, plaintive whine.

“Shut the fuck up,” Austin hissed. He looked like he was going to be sick any second, throw up all over the dead wolves behind Misae or all over himself. “Don’t do that. I have to-... I have to.”

Misae looked away again. He made himself take one step, and then another, hovering just at the edge of the pit, looking down into a dozen open eyes, some wide with fear, and some seeing nothing at all any longer.

“Look… I’m sorry, Rusty,” Austin said, voice low. “I really am sorry. But I have to.”

BOOM.

Misae’s heart stopped.

His body toppled forward and he fell gracelessly into the pit.

Misae landed heavily on top of warm bodies, smeared in blood. It smelled like his family, and like metal and fire, and death. He knew what silver felt like in his body, how badly the agony would overtake everything else. It confused him when he realized he didn’t feel that pain. How could he be dead without hurting first? Had it been instantaneous, a shot to the head? Was he going to drift here in a corpse-body until Hell came for him? 

He stretched one paw and then another. He took the deepest breath he could. His heart was still beating. He was alive.

Austin had missed.

The relief was overwhelming. One of the others was trying to move, Nina he thought, and her huge paw pushed against Misae’s snout, forcing his head to turn painfully to one side. He nearly bit his own tongue to keep from making any noise. Her huge body settled over his, jerking reflexively as she kept trying to move. Nina whined, low in her throat, again and again.

Someone else rolled, and pressed against him on another side.  

He heard Austin above him, sounding farther away than he really was. There was another shot. Nina jolted and went still. “Okay… okay, got him that time. I’m sure I did… I’m sure.” Austin didn’t sound sure. His voice trembled. He retched, and Misae listened to him and wondered why he was losing his supper over the murders he had been the one to commit.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Someone else soothed. Sandra, Misae thought, maybe. Bill’s wife. “Remember, not ‘him’... ‘It’. Don’t act like they’re people. Doesn’t matter if you hit it, it’ll suffocate once we get the dirt back in, anyway.” Her voice softened. Misae could imagine she hugged Austin, her precious son. What was having a mother like? “You did a good job, Aussie. It was a cleansing. The versipellis is washed clean and clear, and we can begin again. Your dad will figure out a cure one day, I know he will. He’d been led… this is his calling.”

“I hope not,” Austin replied. “I hope we’re… I hope we’re done, Mom.”

Nina, on top of him, was going limp, turning to dead weight. Misae could barely breathe.

“Dad will stop trying to figure out werewolves now, right?” Austin sounded… young. And softer, maybe further away. They were leaving. “We won’t have to do this again?” There wasn’t a reply, not one that traveled to Misae at least. After a pause, Austin made a noise of despair that made Misae want to laugh, with hysterical loathing and panic. “Please, Mom, tell me he’s going to stop now. Tell me he won’t just go find another group to run his tests on. Please tell me he’s done!”

The roar of the big machinery began again, and Misae didn’t know what Sandra might have said next. 

Would there be other wolves in the kennels, soon enough? Other puppies born in the shed and then taken away to be blood-tested for the sickness? Would the new wolves smell the deaths of the last ones, and know that they would probably end up here, too, once all these bodies had turned to bones?

The first heap of earth fell.

All of those still alive began a new and frantic struggle. Their howls were more like screams, now, so loud that Misae’s whole head throbbed with them. He knew he was making sounds, too, but he couldn’t really hear them over his own heartbeat and the sound of static inside his head. He couldn’t even begin to stop himself. He could feel the vibration in his throat.

Another of his pack - Den, lying beside him and who was probably a littermate, even though nobody was supposed to know who their litter-siblings were - had gone still, too. Misae tried to wriggle out from under Nina, but her weight felt impossible, and with every passing minute more and more dirt fell. Covering the wolves, cutting them off from the moonlight. Misae went blind, except for a little sliver he could see when he dared open his eyes, before he had to clench them shut against the dirt that kept trying to work its way in.

For a while, he was surrounded by the whines, the whimpers, the pain and fear. His pack still begging for mercy, even now, even as they were buried. Wriggling, hot fur and the smell of blood overran every other scent in the world. Blood and silver, burning them from the inside out.  

Each of their voices went silent, one by one.

Eventually, finally, he could hear his own whimpering.

Misae was the only one left making any sound. 

Still, he could see a hint of the moonlight against the back of his closed eyes. The dirt was heavier on one side of the hole than the other, it hadn’t been evenly filled in. They might come back and push it over, though, make it solid and impenetrable, rob Misae of the air he still had to breathe. Hide the grave, cover it in new grass or clover or flowers. 

He couldn’t hear the machine any longer.

He couldn’t hear people, either.

How long Misae laid there, he didn’t know. The bodies around him were becoming more solid with every passing minute, weighing on him more heavily. His own heart kept pounding, but he thought he was the only one. He would die here, under the dirt, surrounded by the corpses of his family. It was the longest he had ever been allowed to be here with all of them, and it would be forever. There was something… nice about that.

Misae was so scared of being alone.

But he was more afraid to die.

He began to wriggle his smaller body, as carefully as he could. He shifted, moved inch by slow inch out from under Nina’s body until even his tail finally pulled free of her, smeared in bloody mud. Dirt was ground into his fur, stuffed up his ears, found its way into his mouth and down his throat. He had to keep his eyes closed, and sometimes snorted out air to try and clear out his snout only to breathe more in.

He could taste their deaths on his tongue.

Alone.

He shifted his paw, slowly, carefully. Dug it into the dirt and then crooked a joint, pulled himself forwards using the catch of his nails to help him balance. He could smell a little bit of fresh air, and sense a little moonlight. He knew which way to go, if he focused on the moon. The moon always led the wolves, it meant for them to shift to run, not to be locked up in kennels pacing with endless restlessness until they were whipped by the humans for misbehaving.

He moved his other paw, echoing the motions of the first. 

He had to dig his slow way up through the bodies of his family, shoving them aside when he could, when there was room. He climbed on top of them, moved his ears in apologies when he had to dig nails into their bellies or press paws against their heads, when he knew he was being watched by sightless eyes. Every member of his pack he moved past, he named their smells - Nina, Den, Hanwi, Nayi, Koya, Ka, Bliss. He repeated their names to himself, because no one else would ever say them. The humans had given them all other names, dog-names that sat like insults on human tongues. The wolves had had their own names for each other, and he thought them now, every single one.

Sometimes he felt the rough press of a tongue against him and hope would rise, small and soft, only to drop back to despair when Misae realized what he felt was a dead tongue lolling out of an unmoving mouth.

His stomach clenched, and heaved, but he fought it back down.

Eventually, though, one paw found the edge of the pit, and then the other. He felt the breeze against the softer fur there and whimpered, desperate to have that air on every part of his body, desperate for the knowledge that he’d made it out.

He pushed down on both front paws as hard as he could, his wasted muscles protesting as he pulled himself up and out, back paws scrabbling in the loose dirt, shoving himself up using Tate’s shoulder for balance. He panted, tongue out, opening his eyes finally to see the bright shine of moonlight as his head popped up over the pit, his ears up and swiveling immediately, checking for sounds, for any humans nearby.

He heard nothing.

Nothing but the sound of his own breathing.

But… there was a smell other than blood, finally, a smell that wasn’t death. The wind blew cool against his face. He smelled pine trees and birds hidden behind leaves. He felt the moon on his fur the way he imagined it might feel to have a mother hold you, and finally with one last push he stood on all four legs in the grass once again. 

He shook himself, dirt falling from his fur in what felt like waves. Spread his toes, let his paws really sink into the soft earth. Took in a huge breath and then let it out in something like a sigh. 

He was alive.

He was the only one alive.

Then, from close to the big house, he heard Aaron’s soft high child’s voice ask, edged with exhaustion, “Hey, Austin? Is that one of the werewolves over by the, um, the hole?”

Austin cursed. Misae turned to look just as Austin, with a red face and teary eyes, aimed and fired. He was too far away to even hope to hit, but a tree close by Misae suddenly burst apart in an explosion of pine needles and bark.

Misae let himself take one last look at the sight of someone’s paw sticking up above the loose dirt.

Kola's, he thought. There was a white spot on Kola's black paw.

Austin took aim again, and Misae ran.

-

Tag list: @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings @deluxewhump @yassifiedinformation @whatwhump @dont-look-me-in-the-eye @tundra-tiger

[killshotbabe]

Title | Overheated

Pairing | high school friend’s crush/bf!Jeno x reader ft. nct dream (minor appearance)

Warnings | minors dni! mention of smoking and alcohol consumption, use of swear words, reader stuck in an “uncomfortable” situation, close proximity, drunk!reader at some point, sexual tension, cheating/affair, jeno gaslights reader (or does he really?), fingering, implied solo masturbation, slight somnophilia, a bit "dub non-con" in the beginning, overstimulation, sex under the influence (reader only), dirty talk, unprotected sex (please wear protection!), implied public sex, no romance in any type of context

Word count | 4.5k

Song(s) | red - santino le saint, link up - kid travis

A.N | May or may not have dreamed about the idea of this lol. Just finished it today so happy valentines! (this one-shot won't make you blush that way...)

You’re not sure why your friend decided to it would be a good idea to go out with someone like him to begin with.

At first, you thought she’d get over him like usual, hoping it’s just a part of her “hyper-fixations” just like how she’s got maybe five crushes all at once (from what you can recall in one of those nights you spent hanging out in her bedroom) but much to your horror, it wasn’t as simple as that.

You remember her gawking at him at the cafeteria after she had jokingly pinched you, nudging you to check him out in which caused to roll your eyes and proceed to open the cap of your cold tea.

You didn’t care about crushes at all, and yes, he was cute, handsome even but the only thing that piqued your interest at the moment was that sleek navy blue motorcycle he brought to school. You’ve always wanted one and to say that you were jealous of him flexing one at such young age is nothing but an understatement — you wanted what he had even if you couldn’t afford it.

And that wasn’t fair to you. Not when he barely has to do anything when you’re out here working part-time at a pizza parlour and you can barely even pay half of the bills at home.

Him and his old money status can go to hell, you think. He doesn’t even need to show up to any of his classes and you’re one-hundred percent sure he’ll be able to get into any top universities so easily, he just has to maybe tell his parents—

“Hey, are you listening?”

You blink away from your train of thought, the faint bustle of the library buzzing into your ear.

You realize you’re still in the same place for about three hours now, trying to study with the same friend (which would be your only friend, not best friend yet though because you don’t like getting attached to things, let alone actual people) who had been yapping about him for the past hour, and you may or may not have told her to shut the fuck up in your head twice.

“Wait, sorry.” You lie, typing away as your friend broke into a sly grin after finally catching your attention. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m gonna talk to Jeno today.”

Jeno.

Him.

You couldn’t help but squint, almost bursting out of laughter.

You didn’t mind your friend at all.

She was fun, even if she’s the complete opposite of you. Loved cute things like pastel colours, calico critters and dressed the part as 1/4 of the future art majors in your campus (quirky, and she happened to obsessed with colour yellow), and collects a shit ton of squishmallows she even has a separate storage for it. She’s literally the true epitome of cute, preppy and pure.

Way too pure when it comes to that said department actually.

You weren’t even sure how someone like you were friends with her, and why she wouldn’t leave you alone but she was quite persistent with you — having to initiate things first after meeting you then following you around until you decided to just let her have at it.

Ever since then the two of you had been inseparable.

Though that didn’t mean you two were automatically best friends (even if she did say this a couple of times) and you would be lying if you saw it that way too when she mostly talked about herself, her hobbies, her interests, etc. unlike you who just sits there and listens, nodding your head off as if you do agree (mostly you don’t because you can’t relate or it’s just not your style) but you don’t really have the heart to tell her that… not when she’s generally nice and hasn’t really done anything to offend you.

You just admire the fact that she keeps dragging you around and never gave up on you. You don’t even know what made her want to work her butt off to earn your approval and have her invade your space like that, but you guessed that maybe she’s just someone you might need in your life.

…And that maybe, she’s there for a reason you can’t quite guess.

She hasn’t done anything stupid anyway.

…Until today.

“What?”

You balked, brows raised as she sighed dreamily, already planning her wedding dress for when she ends up marrying Jeno, her “soon-to-be high school sweetheart” as she mentioned just a few times and might have tried to manifest too with you in her room in front of her mini crystal collection she’s been obsessed with lately.

“I’m gonna say hi to him today! I’m sick of him not knowing who I am.”

If anything, you weren’t really surprised with this sudden revelation.

It was about time for her to finally try to introduce herself to him after crushing on him for two months now, and you do know she would have the great confidence to almost pursue anything, including him but you didn’t really want this day to come (hell, the thought of it was already dreadful) because you already knew what was bound to happen once she approaches him.

It’s like… surrendering a fawn to a den full of lions, and you can’t do anything but watch her get eaten, figuratively-speaking.

“You don’t look too happy, but that won’t stop me y’know.”

She winked mischievously, stealing a tomato chip off your lunch as you shook your head, a little smile playing on the edge of your lips.

“Do whatever you want but don’t rope me into your shit.”

You shrugged only to earn a scowl from her, her round eyes practically begging you to tag along when she introduces herself to him later on.

“But… c’mon! You don’t even have to say anything you just have to be there for moral support, pretty please?”

You could only sigh, pausing whatever you were doing just to look at her in the eye, already incapable of saying ‘no’ to her because in your defense she looked too cute.

You couldn’t afford to break her heart by saying no.

“Fine… whatever! Just get me ice cream after then we’re good.”

“Oh, I was about to say that too in case he rejects me ha ha,” she laughs off as she sipped on her watered down mango juice. “But at least I tried, yes? Then we can just enjoy our little ice cream date but I might cry…”

You weren’t even worried about that all, but you don’t say that part to your friend because guys like Jeno fancied cute girls.

Especially the innocent ones.

And your friend just might be the perfect girl for him.

To say that you weren’t right would be a goddamn lie, and you wished you were anywhere else but here, inside Jeno’s black sports car, the posh leather seat cold under your lap.

It’s been a month since the day your friend had introduced herself to him with such spark in her eyes you thought Jeno’s friends might have fallen for her too. One of them was even eyeing her from head to toe, visibly amused after seeing her short little skirt hugging her little frame.

Your friend, on top of being the real embodiment of cute, was still gorgeous and easy on the eyes, so it didn’t really surprise you when Jeno ended up giving his number to her as you tucked yourself away from his plain sight, hiding behind your much shorter friend when she confessed her feelings to him with so much confidence, it made you gag.

You weren’t really sure what happened overnight but just a week after, you found yourself on your own as your friend started hanging out with Jeno, his friends and their equally cute “girlfriends”, but she still made sure to spend half of her lunch break with you, even trying to drag you to their table but you could only reject her offer and excuse yourself because you had to catch up on an “assignment” when in reality, you would rather sit in the library by yourself than sit with them.

Then, today, you and your friend was supposed to go shopping by train but what she didn’t tell you was Jeno was gonna be there to drive the two of you so you don’t have to commute on the way to the mall and on the way back.

At first, you fumed having to deal with him being in an inclosed space as you, but it was indeed cold outside now that it’s halfway October and you certainly didn’t want to wait for the train with you friend in this type of weather (and maybe you did want to see his car up close and personal…) so you begrudgingly agreed, letting her yank you off your misery and plunge you into it all when she voluntarily pushed you to the backseat, your eyes drifting to Jeno who’s still talking to one of his friends, Mark, another guy from his group you do find just as attractive.

You could only roll your eyes as your friend wore her seatbelt on, giddily humming to herself. You gradually shifted your attention elsewhere, quite amazed with the clean and sleek interior of his car, but again it made sense.

Jeno was neat, never messy.

“Sorry, Mark was being clingy.”

You briefly hear him quickly apologize with a low chuckle as he slipped behind the wheel, his classy, citrusy scent invading your senses.

You cross your arms and looked away, trying to get him off your head as your friend’s slightly high-pitched voice cooed him “it”s okay!” and that “we can wait” ultimately, ignoring that fact that she just called him “babe” after.

This was one major thing you couldn’t bring yourself to fully admit — the fact that he’s now officially “seeing” your friend not even after a few months in which you felt no ounce of happiness about.

Your friend did inform you about it just a few nights before when she asked if you could come over and watch a scary movie with her because she noticed you were too busy and had no time with her (and you did feel bad because even if she’s always with him, she till spent some time with you only for you to run away for the most part) but she didn’t confront you about it at all.

If anything, it seemed like the usual chill nights you’d share with her until she brought him up and dropped the bomb on you without some sort of a warning beforehand especially when she can tell you’re not fond of Jeno nor his friends.

It felt like a sick joke, and it just feels like you friend is doing her best to make you change your mind about him which you don’t plan on doing so, not when you catch him doing PDA with your friend here and there you couldn’t help but swear at him in your head and look away.

The more time you had to spend with those two, sometimes with their friends, made you want to crumble or run off to the opposite direction.

They were exactly like what you imagined them to be, a couple of rich, privileged kids with filthy heads, the filth your friend is too innocent to be able discern.

They were sneaky about it too especially that Haechan guy who might have tried to get into your pants before, and you hated him so bad you had to tell him to back off you in which he called you feisty in return with the sinister promise of “you’ll want me someday.” before he left you to go smoke.

The rest of the group hasn’t really said anything to you yet. Sometimes they did but it was shallow and the girls hated your guts which is fair because you hated them as much (and with passion too). The only person you could perhaps stand in the group was Renjun.

The guy didn’t make any back-handed comments and he kept to himself for the most part but he did flash you a gaze occasionally wondering why you’re even here to begin with when it’s so damn obvious you don’t like anyone except your friend who always made sure you were included even if you tried to get away, and when you do try… it always ends with her getting what she wants.

And now you’re here, lost in your thoughts as you bore your full attention to the rows of yellow lights in the tunnel, the loud laughter your friend shared with Jeno mocking you.

He did leave the two of you alone to go shopping, and just came back to pick the you up as promised, then he’s supposed to drop you off first before her then they might go on a date like she told you earlier with so much excitement she couldn’t even choose between the two purses at a high-end store you were helping to choose from.

In the end, the two of you walked out the store satisfied — her with a new heart-shaped purse and you with a cashmere scarf you’ve been fancying on for months now that was on sale (which did hurt your bank account but your friend offered to pay half of it so you can just pay her back with instalments) this then provided some sort of a distraction for you, even offering to buy her a warm drink from the cafe as a sweet treat but since Jeno was already parked by the exit, you had to hurry.

They were still giggling as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the urge to strap your headphones around your head getting stronger the more you tuned in, even rolling your eyes when Jeno asked for her hand so he could give it a kiss as if you weren’t just there, witnessing the horrors.

Much to your looming demise, you try to relax and lay your head back with a determined attempt to lull yourself to quick nap anyway since your apartment is around thirty minutes away, so you fold your arms, turned your head to face the window and closed your eyes.

Not even ten minutes later, just when you were about to actually let sleep take over, your hear the deep rumble of Jeno’s voice.

“She’s asleep isn’t she?”

There was a slight movement from your friend, causing you to hold your breath as you feel her check on you.

“Yep, she did say she was tired.”

“She doesn’t talk much. Why are you even friends with her?”

Jeno snickered, taunting you from the rear-view mirror as you tried your best not to reach out and strangle him god willing.

He doesn’t even know you like that.

“She’s nice! Just give her some time.” You friend sighed, defending your honour which you almost snorted at but pretending to be asleep at this very moment was more ideal for you, you think.

You pushed yourself to further into the door, eyelids slightly parting just in time to see him give her a sleazy wink before you saw his hand land on her lap, making your heart drop at the sight.

You weren’t sure if you liked where this was going at all.

“She’s sleeping Jeno…”

You clawed on your sleeved, clenching your jaw when you hear Jeno whisper rather suggestively.

You knew it was meant for your friend, but he didn’t even bother hiding it, assuming you’re fully knocked out at the back seat.

“If you can keep it down, she won’t know.”

You swore you almost cried, knuckles turning white for how hard you formed into fists when you hear your friend’s shy giggles which enveloped to a series of quiet moans from the front seat when he began touching her down there as he drove, the soft r&b blaring from his speakers in an attempt to suppress the noises your friend was trying so hard to hide so she won’t wake you up, when in reality, you were very much awake to witness all of this happening.

At this point, you genuinely wished you were dead, begging for the door to just unlatch itself so you can slide off your seat and fall into the road to your death than sit here, being forced to hear your friend let out a strangled moan as he fingered her, easily dragging her close to her peak.

You wanted it to stop — for them to just cut it out and put an end to your nightmare but it only got worse as the time went by.

You can practically hear the lewd noises Jeno was making with his fingers as he played with her sheer arousal and the way he was talking to her in such a dirty manner for the sole purpose to make her cum in which she violently did just a few minutes later, an animalistic high-pitched squeak leaving her lips before she heaving and moaning his name shakily with him still fucking her with fervour, overstimulating her.

The subsequent scarlet hue spread on your cheeks, heating your face up, second-hand embarrassment kicking in as you chewed on your lip until you drew blood from your cracked ones, neck craning all the way to your side so your scarf could hide the horrified expression on your face.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or laugh — cry because he had the audacity to finger your friend at your presence or laugh because of the high-pitched noise your friend made. You think it’s a mixture of both and you think you might have gone clinically insane from that alone as this was not a part of your bingo card.

It’s only been a few weeks. Have they fucked already?

You try to contain yourself as you kept still when you hear them share a languid kiss in which your friend giggled to before she flashed you a quick gaze, making sure you were in fact, still asleep.

“She probably didn’t hear that did she?”

“I’m sure she didn’t.” Jeno’s mocking tone caused you to move slightly, but not enough to make him think you were awake all along.

Your neck became stiff after what seemed like forever, and as much as you wanted to stay in this painful position you knew you had rouse yourself up just because you couldn’t handle “sleeping” anymore, so you waited until your friend led him to your street as she navigated for him.

It was then the only time you stirred yourself up, alerting the both of them that you were now “awake.”

“Hey, sleepy head!”

You yawned, trying to look at her in the eye in the dark as you borrowed into your scarf, hiding half of your face.

“Yo.”

You diverted your to the windows and recognized your surroundings as the car halted just in front of your apartment complex, relief surging through you in sudden realization that you’re finally home.

“Thank god.”

You murmured under your breath, hand already fixed to the door handle, about to yank yourself out of there when your friend stopped you just before you can leave.

“See you next week!”

She piped up, her pupils shaking in pure excitement you almost asked what the hell she smoked to look like that when you already knew it was due to post-orgasm high.

You couldn’t help but to mirror her expression, but with a completely different reason.

You think you might want to commit right there if you kept smiling for ten more seconds, much like an unhinged criminal.

“Yeah! See you and thanks for the ride, Jeno.”

“Anytime.”

You see him nod at you, acknowledging your thankful nature (he probably though you were incapable of doing that) before you sprinted off, the two of them watching you attentively as you pushed yourself inside the lobby, cursing vehemently under your breath.

You didn’t even sleep that night, not when you find your underwear being wet from your own arousal after thinking about it again.

You don’t even like Jeno to any degree and yet, you still dreamed of him but not for good reasons.

Not at all.

And if your friend was to find out, it would be game over.

//

“I might have a friend who can take me in so Tony can come and fix this.”

You sigh, seeing as how the flooding got worse over the weekend due to the nonstop rainy weather and you, unfortunately, still rents the basement of a hosting family your mother personally knew but since they were on vacation in the UK and the main floor is locked, you can’t even access the floor and camp in the couch until the flooding issue gets fixed.

You’ve been on the phone with your host for an hour now explaining everything, and that they were going dispatch a friend to fix the damage shortly but still advised you that you’ll probably want to look for a friend to sleep over at for the mean time which you were okay with but you didn’t really want to do that even if you had no choice.

Hotels were costly so you dialled your only friend anyway whilst chugging what’s left from your coffee cup before tossing it in the nearby bin.

You’re in a local library now, left with nothing but a small suitcase you hastily shoved most of your every day necessities in to cover one week’s worth. Your host did say it should be okay to come back in a week or less so you made sure not to overpack, and you didn’t really want to stay there for longer, not when the slightly murky water felt cold around your feet.

“What? Are you serious!”

You sighed for what seemed like the 100th time today as you told your friend the whole situation.

“Not sure if this is going work but do you think you can take me in?” You inwardly groaned. “I can pay you.”

“Boo, I wish I can but my aunt’s over with my cousins I don’t have a space for you. Maybe after four days? They leave on Friday!”

“Well that won’t work, thank you though. I’ll go find a hotel—”

“No, no that’s going to be more expensive I can get someone to take you in though if that’s ok?”

You hummed, picking on your nail at the thought. Might as well give it a try.

“Sure…?”

“Ok, great! Give me a sec!”

You hear some sort of a movement from the other line before you hear your friend’s muffled voice once again.

“I just texted Jeno! He should be done working out right now. Where are you?”

“What?!” You let out a harsh whisper, trying to calm down realizing you’re in fact, still in a library. “Jeno—? I didn’t even agree just yet!”

“Well, he’s the only person I one-hundred percent trust with you even if you guys don’t talk but he’s got a huge place you can stay in and then he can even pick both of us up for school!”

“No,” You clutched your head in annoyance, trying your best not to hiss. “I— I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“What? Why? He already said he can do that though just now and I really don’t want you to spend money in a hotel. Too expensive. Good luck with Jeno though because he’ll say no with paying so you’re in good hands!” She laughed a little, making you huff on the other line. “Please? Maybe you guys can be friends. It gets so awkward when I’m with the both of you and you don’t even talk to him…”

“It’s just…” You try to explain. “I don’t know I feel like it’s so rude of me to just—”

“Honey, you’re not being rude! He literally said yes, and he’s got like two cars over there that you might like. If you ask nicely, maybe he can let you drive one to school? How about that?”

You wished she didn’t mention that at all, especially knowing that sport scars were your weakness in general and Jeno happened own two more aside from the one he drives to school.

You weren’t even sure if you had any ounce of dignity left at this point.

Hotels were costly, and you didn’t want to ask your mom for money to spend in a hotel thinking you’ve got a friend to cover for you, plus what you make from your part-time job wasn’t enough to foot the bill if you were to opt for a hotel.

If it was someone else, perhaps Mark or Renjun, you would probably agree without missing a beat (not like they would offer themselves in the first place, but if they did, you’d rather be with them) but this was Jeno.

The guy you’re friend is “seeing” and the same guy you thought about that night when you shouldn’t have.

You don’t even know if you could look at him in the eye anymore, and now you would have to stay over because he’s that nice?

“Heeeey, are you okay? I thought you ended the call for a second there.”

You cleared your throat, trying to make up your mind.

Am I gonna do this or not? Why the fuck would he even agree to this…

“I’m here sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I really want you guys to start talking… Don’t you think this is a good idea? He thinks it might be good too.”

“He said that?” You almost laugh. “Thank you, but…”

“He did actually and no buts! Do this for me please?”

“You… fine, fine…” You say as you give up, letting her win over you again.

“Okay! Yay!”

You hear her clasp her hands together before she asked where your exact location was again, intending to forward it to Jeno.

In the end, she simply gave your number to him so it would be easier, logically speaking, but you didn’t even want to save his number at all or have that exchange. It felt so weird to have him there, in your short list of contacts when you don’t even consider him a “friend” for that matter.

You weren’t even sure if you were doing your friend a “favour” even if she did say she trusts Jeno because deep down, you knew she shouldn’t be putting all the trust to him, not when you’re in the picture.

Especially not when you’re about to be confined in one space with no one else but him for god knows how long.

//

He didn’t even bat an eye when you slipped into the front seat of his car as he was in the middle of a conversation what you can assume would be Jaemin, blabbing something about some new pc game he got, so you strapped your seatbelt on quietly, not sure when would be the good time to thank him when you can’t even look at him in the eye.

“K, heading home. Talk later.”

He didn’t say anything either so you slowly fixed half of your attention to the road ahead of you and his one hand steering the wheel expertly, then gradually moved past that so you can finally glance up there, to his gorgeous side profile in which you admire a little.

He’s even more handsome this close, with his tall nose, perfect jawline and glowing fair skin — you thought you might have forgotten your words but you quickly look away, feeling the nervous energy course through your veins.

“No thank you?”

There was a slight tinge of tease in his tone, so you clear your throat, refusing to actually spare him another glance afraid that he might catch you looking more that you should have.

“Sorry… Just sad about the whole situation, but thank you for taking me in. I hope that’s okay with your parents…”

“Don’t worry.” He chuckled a little. “They’re in the Caribbean Islands right now. No one’s home.”

“Oh, that’s great.” You weren’t even sure if that offered some sort of relief on your end. “Always wanted to go there.”

“Maybe if you start hanging out with us more then I can take you there for the summer with the group?”

You think he might be joking, so you treat it as such, trying not to derail from what seemed like a pleasant conversation you two are actually having.

You knew your friend would be happy to hear the fact that you can actually get along just fine, but because of how you see Jeno and his friends in such a negative light, you’re not sure if you had the ability to stop being stubborn for once.

“Maybe.”

You sigh, now shifting your gaze to him again, noticing his muscular, yet lean upper body hugged by just one layer of his black turtle neck. You couldn’t help but to ogle a little, but you do look away, feeling the slight guilt creeping down your spine.

He’s literally one move away from dating your friend, so why do you find it so hard to look away? Not when there are more conventionally attractive guys in the group? Like Mark? Renjun?

I have eyes. I can look, that’s it. It won’t hurt.

“Oh, c’mon the more the merrier.” There was some sort of a drawl in his tone you couldn’t quite miss, but maybe you might have been imagining things. “Let’s see if I end up liking you enough though then maybe I’ll work so hard to drag you into the group and come with us to the Caribbean next summer vacation, yeah?”

Or were you really imagining things?

//

The first night wasn’t bad.

You learn that your friend wasn’t exaggerating when she did tell you he lives in a mansion.

There was a huge fountain in the middle of a private cul-de-sac, two mermaids made out of a slab of rock perched in right in the centre, flowing water trickling from the matching queen conches.

The gate was tall, and the impressive gigantic lot is nestled in what seemed like a canopy of endless tall pine trees. They literally had no neighbours close by and the entirety of the driveway was an actual boulevard, you think they could possibly fit another house over the area.

It felt like you entered a different dimension — the gated community of the rich didn’t feel real at all. Even the air felt expensive, and just when you thought that wasn’t enough, Jeno allowed you to spare a longing gaze to his two other fancy cars parked in a quadruple-door garage.

He did notice your obvious interest with the exterior of his cars so he lets you have your fun until you found yourselves darting inside his own floor which could pass as some sort of a penthouse.

You think he might not even see his parents even if they were in one house altogether halfway in. Hell, if there was party being hosted by him for two days in a row his parents won’t probably hear any of it.

“I have a spare room when the guys sleep over so you can stay there for now. Don’t think I’d have anyone over soon so you’re good.”

You stand in the middle of the spare room, checking the surroundings like some sort of a curious cat.

It was super neat, had some distinctive art pieces by the walls, but it did look like where they would hang out judging from the game consoles tucked into the black drawers under the gigantic screen tv and the mini fridge with a snack bar situated in a corner surrounded by neon lights.

“Thanks again, Jeno.”

You tell him as he leaned against the doorway, a pleasant expression on his face upon noticing the way you looked awestruck with the room arrangement.

“No probs. I’m just one door away so let me know if you need anything. Usually up until 1 am. My maid isn’t here she’s on vacay so just it’s just us two.”

“Sure.”

He left you alone like that, letting you bask at thought of him even having a maid. You think he might have an entire staff like a “head chef” running the house, but sooner or later you learn they’re all on vacation since they were all related which leaves you and Jeno all alone in such a big house, though despite that, you couldn’t help but feel the foreboding anxiety blaring through you like fire alarms.

There was an itch you couldn’t pinpoint and it drove you crazy the more you stayed over, and even if the first night went equally well like normal, you couldn’t help but feel some sort of guilt wrecking through you, so for the next two days you got in touch with Tony, the maintenance guy, in hopes to hear something positive about the situation back home so leave early.

Much to your demise, it won’t be until a few days so you gave up, trying to calm yourself down as you tucked yourself to bed right after doing your homework on your third night.

Your friend visited you a few hours before but since her and Jeno had plans for the night which involved the guys, Jeno might be coming home around dawn. You couldn’t help but feel the crash of relief to be finally alone for once which was bad for you to admit since you’re literally staying in his house for free, but having him there to share a space with made you feel too damn guarded and you hated that.

It wasn’t like he was watching you either — if anything, you’re the one who was doing more of that especially when you ate together after he offered to cook, and if he did order take-out, he asked what you wanted and delivered it right to your door just because you didn’t feel like going downstairs when you should’ve offered but upon finding out he was in the ground floor from their own home gym, you decided not to.

He didn’t even bother putting a shirt on when he knocked on your door, letting you see his bare abs through the wide split of the door so you were quiet thankful you didn’t make your way downstairs even when the damage has been done and it did nothing but make things worse for you.

“The passcode is the last four numbers of you number.”

He concluded as he gave you a quick rundown of instructions in terms of the security system.

You nodded obediently, quite touched at the fact that he made you your own designated password even if you’re only staying for a couple of days.

You weren’t friends with him yet, but he sure made things easier and was quite civilized the entire time, even putting all the trust in you to be in the house but the cams were all on so he can literally see what you would be up to unless you lock yourself in your room.

You follow closely behind him and your friend now holding hands with him as the three of you entered the garage. Your friend gave you a little pat on a head muttering a “good girl” in a light, teasing tone before they eventually drove away, leaving you by yourself for the next few hours.

You actually planned to do a mini tour and explore the other floors besides Jeno’s floor but because you didn’t want to end up falling to any “trap” doors (Jeno did mention that once as a joke but you didn’t want to risk it) you chose to stay in your room instead and watched movies on netflix with a plan to reheat the leftover pizza from last night.

Around midnight, you found yourself by the mini bar, wanting to try some of the alcohol he had so you pop a Hennessy from the glass shelf into a mug instead to pair with some sun chips to munch on at midst of a thriller movie you picked.

After downing what seemed to be a couple of glasses within the passing hours, you nursed an impending headache throbbing in your head. You could only curse, the thought of being completely hangover the next day already pissing you off.

You were more of a social drinker, but you think it’s been a while since the last time you attended a party and back then, it wasn’t so bad. You were still able to walk and say sentences incoherently after a few shots but this was worse.

You’re severely tipsy at this point, gaze all hazy as you attempt to shut the tv off, squinting over the rolling credits you can barely read off from.

You yank your crewneck over your head after feeling too hot, opting for just a mid-length slip as you tumbled out of your room, wanting to head to the bathroom with the sudden urge to splash some icy cold water on your face but you weren’t fully thinking as to where you were heading until you managed to somehow push into Jeno’s room, arms splayed in the dim-lit space.

You stumbled your way into his own bathroom adjacent to his bookcase, locking yourself in.

You were about to pass out inside, suddenly too sleepy to function but still made it out of there only to end up locating his equally large, yet better bed, his sheets cool under your skin which eased up the liquid fire running in your bloodstream.

You weren’t really sure what you did next, but the faint smell of his citrusy scent from his nice, cold sheets, you didn’t care about anything else and instead, slept through the great comfort of it all.

Unbeknownst of you, Jeno did end up going back home earlier than planned, but without your friend this time.

He was too exhausted to even notice that something was truly off by the time he got into bed, shirt off, sleep knocking him out a few minutes in.

“She won’t know.”

He placed your arms on the curve of your back as he pinned you to the wall in a hallway absent of any light.

You feel his sweet, minty breath on your nape, his strong hand tight around your wrists in a vice grip with the intention of not letting you go.

You were so breathless now, letting him do what he wished, his free hand tracing the outline of your thigh as he yanked the hem of your dress upwards, groping you from behind, whispering sinisterly in your ear before kissing the slant your shoulder, his hand snaking dangerously inside the silk fabric until he replaced your bra with his, playing with your breasts in a manner that drove you nuts.

“You’ve thought about this haven’t you?” He pressed, as you whimpered helplessly, back arched with your behind brushing against his. “Answer.”

“Y-yes…”

You sigh, unable to control the soft moan emitting from your throat when he eventually slid his hand in your underwear, callused fingers rubbing your clit now covered with pure arousal, spreading it all over your aching sensitivity.

“I didn’t even have to spit.” He hissed sardonically. “But I think you’ll like that, yeah? What do you think? Do you want me to spit on your pussy?”

“F-fuck… yeah…”

You feel him pull his fingers off you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact when you hear him spit behind you, immediately sliding his hand back into your soiled underwear after doing so, messily mixing the glob of his spit with your slick arousal you think if he kept this up, you would cum in no time without even having him fuck you at all.

“You’re disgusting…” He hummed in satisfaction, ultimately parting your pussy lips so he can pump a finger in, his lips leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your spine. “I like that.”

You hear him groan at the feeling your tight walls around his long, slender fingers, a series of swears rolling off your mouth when he began fingering you, fucking his spit into your throbbing hole all desperate for him and him only.

You rubbed your thighs together in a desperate attempt to itch the pulsating sensation between your legs, the bundle of nerves you eventually pressed on in your sleep made you whimper softly, the pleasurable feeling intensifying the more you rubbed yourself.

This was the second time Jeno had unmercilessly plagued your dreams again — like an incubus haunting you in your sleep, but in the end, he gives you what you desire — to come so hard you thought you’d black out.

You’ve never even drawn yourself to that type of high before you even knew who he was, but after what happened in the car, you couldn’t help but think of how good it would be to have him fuck you instead of your friend.

You did feel guilty for having this type of thoughts about your friend’s own boyfriend, but having him wreck havoc in your head after hours, was mind-numbing, it was almost addicting.

You’ve tried and fought so hard to stop thinking about him, trying to replace his face with someone else like Mark, or even Renjun or some other celebrity you fancied but when you’re just a minute away from reaching your peak, you can’t help but bring him back and let him take over you, his face alone making you come so hard your legs would shake as the raw lust mixed with shame riddled all over your skin.

Tonight was the same, except you were actually in his house and on his bed, touching yourself without any awareness about your surroundings and absolute care in the world, not when you had creeped your finger inside your now wet underwear, intending to finger yourself on your side, but before you could do that, you tucked yourself under the comforter seeking for warmth, back flat on the mattress as you slide your hand back in, moaning at the contact once again, legs propped with your knees bumping against each other as you played with yourself, eyes tightly shut.

“It hurts…” You whimpered lightly, still dreaming as you tilt your head to the side, brows furrowing in frustration. “I need…”

Jeno, who had been sleeping just right beside you, eventually stirred, turning to face you with a sigh, starting to be aware with the noises you were making but thought it was a part of what seemed like a dream for him too so he made no move until you inched closer and closer, now only one move away from touching him.

You’re facing him now, his familiar sweet scent elating your senses, it being the only thing to make you move faster, your middle finger playing with your growing wetness before you eventually slid it in, biting your lip at how tight you felt and wishing it was him doing it for you instead.

“Jeno…” You huff, you free hand snaking under your slip to grope your breast, hissing from how hard your nipples had gotten.

Jeno, now half-asleep, responded with a tired “hmm” as he hovered closer, his hand landing on your hip to pull you closer to him, sealing the small gap between the both of you with his face now resting on the curve of your shoulder.

He hears you purr sweetly, fingering yourself faster when you feel him lay a light kiss on your bare skin, his hand finding your jaw so he can tilt your chin up, kissing you there but deeper.

You didn’t even care anymore. No shame surging through you thinking this was a mere wet dream even if it felt too real, so real you could actually see him in the shadow but because the lights were so dim, you couldn’t make a face but his beautiful scent and warmth was more than enough.

You just needed to feel him, have him ruin you more just like how he does in your dreams.

“Aren’t you tired?” He whispered huskily, realizing you were fingering yourself when he circled his own around your wrist, stopping you. “What are you doing?”

“I want…” You mumbled, distress coating your tone when he yanked your hand from your underwear ever so gently. “I want to cum…”

“Want to?” he cooed, keeping his eyes close as he parted his lips open to suck your slick arousal from your fingers, earning another moan from you before he let you grab him on the shoulder, his own hand now snaking inside your underwear.

“Fuck, just-just put it in, please…” You begged, circling your arms around his neck as you lifted your leg, resting it on his hip.

You hear him hum, the deep rumble of it making your head go numb.

He wasted no time, pleased with your whines when he slid his finger inside your soaked pussy, fingering you slowly until you found yourself in a verge of breaking out of a sob, your knuckles turning white on his shoulder as he fucked you faster and harder at your request, fully attentive with the way you were squeezing him, sucking him further into your throbbing cunt, making him go crazy for how increasingly wet you’ve become.

“J-jeno!”

You half-screamed, back arching as he hovered on top of you, his head disappearing on the crook of your neck to kiss you right there before you feel his teeth bite the strap of your slip, yanking it down your shoulders.

He was going way faster now, fingers curving up to rammed on your sweet spot as you struggled under him, thighs closing tightly around his flexed arm just when you’re about to reach your peak.

“Don’t you want to come?” He smiled sleepily, sucking your left nipple with so much want it only drove you closer to your orgasm. “If you’re a good girl, you will, won’t you?”

It was scary how it feel too damn real — you could even hear him up close and personal and it was too overwhelming, but you couldn’t open your eyes, not wanting this dream to ever end, not when he’s about to make you cum so hard like this.

So you pushed through it, the lewd squelching of your wetness from him fucking into you the only thing you could hear, his equally pleased moans gracing your ears when you tell him you’re almost there.

“Fuck, fuck…fuck! I’m,” You cried, shaking violently as you finally snapped, hands flying on his in an attempt to stop him from fingering you in a brutal pace but he didn’t allow you.

Instead, he forced you to ride through it all as you cursed, head thrown back until you began sob from overdrive, thrashing and squirming under him only to make him pin your arms above your head, your slip pulled all the way to your neck, letting him feel your bare skin, your underwear being torn by him, tossing it on the marbled floors.

“I’m fucking you.” He growled, eyes parting slightly, unable to see you fully but the feeling of having you all naked and weak under him made him a little crazy. He wasn’t even sure if this was just a dream anymore, but he had his own personal desires needed to be taken care of. “You’ll let me, right?”

“Please…” You begged as he lifted your dress all the way to your face, turning it into a blindfold causing you to spread your legs wider for him, too aroused with the way he was trying to limit your senses. “Fuck… just do whatever you want, please…use..use me…”

“Can you even take me?” He smirked, tracing small kisses from your jaw all the way to your sternum as your breath hitched. “You’re this desperate, huh?”

You hear him unbuckle his belt as you begged, wanting him to give it to you already, afraid that this dream might come into an end.

“Please, Jeno…”

“Sounds better when you say it like that…”

He sighed, giving himself a few generous strokes before you felt the tip of his hard cock rub your pussy, giving you a few jabs before he slowly slipped inside you just halfway, wanting you to get used to his size so he waits for a tap which came just a few moments later, and gives it to you, a matching lustful moan being knocked out from yours and his.

“So b-big…”

You grabbed his biceps as he held his breath, trying his best not to fuck you like a wild animal for how amazingly tight and warm you felt around him, squeezing around him repeatedly, almost drawing him to the edge.

“Your pussy can take it…” He whispered, fucking into you slowly. “If I fuck you like this, you’ll take it…and if I go faster?”

“Ah!” You cried as he snapped his hips into you, the wetness of your pussy coating his entire cock, drawing him deeper into your cunt. “Don’t stop… fuck, f-fuck feels so good, so so good.”

“I know, baby…” He hissed vehemently, face buried into the crook of your neck as you let him fuck you faster, the slightly deep baritone of your tone intensifying the fact that he wants to ruin you, even if this wasn’t reality because god knows what he will do it had been, but for some reason, he didn’t felt any type of shame if this wasn’t a dream— just the carnal desire he felt for you, the girl who seemed to hate him for no valid reason.

You clutched the sheets as he pistons in and out of you, ultimately driving the both of you to each other’s peak.

He doesn’t let you touch him, his hand fixed to your wrists on top of your head as your jaw went slack, breath hitching as your legs trembled, alerting him that you were there.

“Fuck, spread your legs wider.” He demanded through gritted teeth, strong thighs stuttering against yours as you obediently did what he asked. “That’s it, pretty girl.”

It didn’t take long when the two of you finally came, you being the first to snap as he followed-through just a few seconds later, pulling out of you so he can cum on his bed sheet instead.

You immediately fell asleep right after, smiling through it all just like he did, the looming taste of regret awaiting to ruin everything in the morning.

Or would it?

//

You awoke to an unfamiliar bed, already panicking upon finding out you’ve been sleeping in his room the entire time so you quickly pad down the silent hall, disappearing inside your own room with a huff.

You ignore the throbbing headache in your head as sat on your bed, a little shaken and not knowing to go about explaining what just happened if he was aware of it, but you think he’s not even home or if he was, did he end up sleeping elsewhere?

You grabbed your crewneck and fixed yourself in front of the mirror, about to head downstairs and find him when you feel something odd, so you lift the hem of your dress, discovering that you didn’t even have an underwear on.

The memory of him taking it off you haunted your train of thought — last night felt too raw, too real and you think it maybe because you’re starting to be delusional, using the advantage of staying in his house and touch his stuff that weren’t yours.

You assume this might have catered to it all and you weren’t even sure if that’s something to be happy or angry about.

You figured it wasn’t — in fact, it was too wrong and you wanted out so you immediately text Tony for an update before heading downstairs to find Jeno.

Jeno, you learn, was not alone.

It was a Saturday after all, and he happens to be on the phone by the living room, his full attention watching the glowing fireplace in front of him, energy drink on-hand as your friend darted from the kitchen, immediately seeing you.

“Oh, she’s up!” She announced, running to hug you with a beam. “Jina and I are going to get our nails done and she’s picking me up, you wanna come?”

“Oh, um… that’s okay.” You falter as Jeno turned to look at you, gaze unreadable. “I’m leaving soon anyway, like going back to my place.”

“Oh! Well maybe next time? Jeno is leaving soon too but won’t be dropping me off. Jeno, help her okay?”

You avoid the way he’s looking at you now, quite embarrassed with the fact that you literally just slept in his bed and even dreamed of him fucking you. You just hoped he had no idea, and if he did know, you knew you couldn’t bear to show face any longer.

“I’ll plan us another date. Just you and I. I promise!”

You let your friend drag you to the entrance and albeit dazed from the unholy thoughts you were suddenly having about Jeno, you managed to brush it off and watch your friend leave, waving her a small good-bye, the guilt surging through you once again after seeing her.

You were just about to lock the door when you feel him hover behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the sound of his deep voice invading your cloud of thoughts.

“I’m gone for one night and you’re suddenly touching stuff that aren’t yours?”

So he did know. But does he know?

“I’m sorry…” You exhale, sighing regretfully but refused to look at him in the eye. “Got a little drunk then looked for the bathroom—“

“See… that wasn’t the only thing I’m upset about though.”

You gulped as you feel him walk closer so you slowly back away, the shocked gasp leaving your lips as you feel the pressure of the door behind you, him towering over you now.

“What?”

“Do you know what I’m talking about?” He questioned, a little on edge. “Don’t act dumb now.”

“I said I was drunk and I’m sorry.” You apologized sincerely, the overwhelming silence skyrocketing your anxiety. “If there was any damage—”

“No, that’s not…” You hear him chuckle as he drove his hand to the door, cornering you like a predator, but you remain still, stopping yourself from looking up or it was going to over. “Do I have to explain?”

“I don’t…”

“You don’t care about your friend, do you?”

Your eyes rounded in shock, immediately tilting your chin up so you can look at him in the eye this time, suddenly angry at his accusation.

“What made you say that?” You snapped, watching him shake his head in amusement but you weren’t buying it. “Jeno.”

“You’re something else.” He whispered softly, eyes searching something in yours before you feel him inch closer to your ear, his lips brushing across the shell of your ear. “You’re insane. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Jeno, what the fuck?”

You pushed him off you but he could only laugh, head tilting to the side, a smirk now evident on his face.

He was too handsome, it almost drove you nuts if it wasn’t for the way he just insulted you.

“Guess I’d be the first but don’t worry, I’m not that angry, you know?”

You clenched your jaw, watching him advance to you again with an intent to pin you against the door.

“You’re full of shit. I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about when all I’ve done is —”

“We fucked.” He sighed, reeling closer when you clamped your mouth shut, looking away from him. “Why, you thought you were dreaming?”

“You’re joking.”

“See, I’d like to think I was. The whole time I thought the same until I find you in my bed in the morning.”

You faltered, unable to think straight when you feel him trace the outline of your jaw, grabbing you by the chin gently to make you shift your attention back to him.

“Jeno.”

“You said my name too. Just like this.” His darkened gaze pierced yours, pupils blown. “You like me that much?”

“We can’t do this.” You grab his wrist, pushing him away with a huff. “It was a mistake!”

“I’d like to think the same but for some reason…” He took another step, completely caging you in just like you were always meant to be for him. “You’re fucking everything up.”

“How is that my fault —”

“You should’ve pursued me first, that’s all.”

Your eyes widen as he cradled your face, drawing you completely speechless.

Turns out, he was crazier, even more sinister with the way he’s touching you so inappropriately right now you feel like pushing him off and running out to escape but you simply couldn’t. You knew you wanted him too even if you shouldn’t.

Not when the damage has already been done, and you’ve opened a pandora box, unleashing his hidden desires on board with yours, the sinful thoughts you’ve been trying so hard to seal away for no one to figure out.

“You don’t give a fuck about her?” You swallowed a lump in your throat, a pained expression on your face as he kept up with his ministrations, his hand now holding yours. “Why are you touching me…”

“I like you.” He confesses with a shrug like it was something so simple to do, his piercing gaze meeting yours again. “You think I’m into your friend?”

“You’re sick.”

You say through gritted teeth, raw anger still there but the more you allowed him to stare you down like this, the more it dissipated. The desperate hold you had around it vanishing to thin air.

“And you think you’re not?”

There was that same fiery edge to his tone now, his grip around your hand tightening. You try to break free from his grasp until you hear his phone ring. You were just about to use that as way to completely push him away, but he cut you off, demanding you to stay still.

“We’re not done.”

You watch him answer the call, fear on your eyes when you discovered it as your friend asking if he could pass the phone over to you just because you weren’t answering yours.

“Talk to her.” He demanded, his stern tone sending shivers all over your body when you placed his phone near your ear.

“Hey,” You greeted your friend, trying to sound as normal as you could before shying away from the way Jeno’s eyeing you right now. “Was in the shower. What’s up?”

You let your friend take-over, asking if you wanted anything from a specific shop near the nail salon she was in and had been trying so hard to get your mind out of the gutter for the past minute that seemed to flow by in forever. You found yourself stuck in the middle — part of you wanted to tell her about what you did just like that no matter what the consequences were but the other half simply haunted you, did you really want to stop? When the guilt should be burning you alive right now but for some reason, you hardly felt anything and you weren’t sure what to make of that.

“You don’t care about your friend, do you?”

“The one with stars is cute but you don’t have to— it’s okay,” You shook your head, completely missing the fact that Jeno had gotten even closer. You catch on to him before he lowers his head to the side of your face, about to murmur something.

“Stop.” With the phone away from your lips, you attempt to get away but he only holds you still, hand fixed to the curve of your waist. “Jeno—”

“Just tell me the details later!” Your friend squealed over the phone. “And tell Jeno to read my text!”

The call ended just before you could utter something but the phone from your hand was snatched away in a millisecond, suddenly finding yourself gasping when Jeno placed his knee in between your thighs, feeling you up with his clothed knee, his hand now groping your breast.

“Quit it, won’t you?” You bit your lip, hand fisting his top as he placed an open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone. “You want to run away so bad but I can see it in your eyes. You want this as much as I do so don’t lie to yourself.”

“Jeno, stop,” You begged, arousal already pulling in your underwear when he forced you to grind down on his thigh, holding all your weight up alone with just that alone. “Jeno…”

“I’ll let you go f that’s what you want.” He grunted as you began to grind on him, growing more aroused with the way you were whining, struggling on his thigh. He challenged you, even if he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist all of this.

Resist him.

You whimpered as he removed his thigh between your legs, letting you off but you don’t make a move.

“You want to go?” You could only gaze back at him, completely in trance as he grinned down at you, his sardonic expression reeling you in. “Then go.”

It didn’t take long until you finally snapped altogether, crashing yourself to him to latch your lips on his in sheer frustration, an audible groan coming from him as he nibbled your bottom lip, lifting you up, hands all over your body.

Sooner or later, you found yourselves in bed, having to have exhausted each other but there were no words shared after it all.

You weren’t even sure what to do next as you laid there beside him, watching him sleep on his back, head turned away from yours. It was then you felt your heart crumble into pieces, the immense jolt of pain suddenly waking you up from trance.

Do I really want to do this?

You left the next morning just like that, not wanting to pursue this wrong deed at all, and without a word other as you hailed a taxi. You deleted and blocked his phone number and made a plan to somehow try to avoid him and your friend for the next few months, but it wasn’t simple like that, and yet, you tried to stay away.

For the next six months, it was like that — with you and your friend slowly falling apart because you no longer shared classes for second semester and you made no amends to even see or spend time with her, having to have met other friends you shared classes with and then her, with the boys and their girls.

You were also thankful of Jeno not pursuing anything with you too. You barely saw him around due to the fact that he did sign up for more sport-related activities so naturally, he disappeared from your sight. He must have thought that it was clearly a mistake just like you did, and you fought to repent for your sins and you wished he did too.

You didn’t keep track about anything that had to do with them anymore and decided to focus on your studies like you’ve always had from the beginning to prepare yourself for graduation and university requirements. Your great efforts did pay off in the end, having to graduate with almost on top of all your classes and getting into one of your top three universities.

Life seemed great for you — quite elated for the next journey you’re bound to go on for the next two years now that senior year was over and so was the evening dinner you had to attend because it was mandatory despite wanting to opt out of it but you made sure to leave early as you had no plans to sit in the fancy banquet of a five-star hotel and “get entertained” when everyone either sat around to chill or lose themselves in the dimmed down dance floor.

By 11 pm, you bid your goodbyes to a panel of teachers, one of them being your favourite, just in the next room in the hall, then gunned down to the parking lot where you parked your car.

You dug your keys in your purse, humming to yourself when you spot someone’s slick black shoes right next to your car so you stop and blink, shifting your attention the wide plain of his familiar broad back, his white dress shirt being the only article of clothing he has on with some tailored black plants that probably cost five months worth of rent.

“Jeno.”

“Nice ride you got.” He drew the cigarette away from his lips, grey smoke hitting your face as you slowly took a step back, unable to form any coherent sentence upon realizing that he’s standing before you now. “New model too. Gift, maybe?”

You do know you’ve been trying to avoid him.

As much as you tried however, he was there, always in a crowd and you never missed a handsome face like his. He burned in the back of your head so easily, but it was too difficult to get him out no matter how many distractions you could come with, and even if most of it worked in your favour he still lived inside your head like a parasite.

A parasite you may never end up getting rid of.

“I’m going home.” Was all you said, trying to stay stoic and unaffected as he advanced to you, even more irresistable now that he’s worked out more and grew his hair a little longer, a strand from his gelled back fringe curving on his forehead and it did nothing but clench your jaw.

He was just too handsome, you were close to believing no one would be able to resist him at all, not even the new arm candy he brought as a date to dinner since your he has apparently broken up with your friend a month before graduation due to a sudden drastic change in her family’s living situation.

You soon find out she was never coming back, and apparently “long distance relationships” wasn’t Jeno’s thing.

“This early?”

There was a coy smirk on his face, cigarette resting between his lips. You stood there, liking the smell, reminding you of your father back home so naturally, you stayed where you are, feet starting to hurt from the five inch heels you regretfully wore to dinner.

“Yeah, I have work the next morning.”

He’s one step away from you now, his full attention scanning your red dress from head to toe, liking the tight fit around your soft curves. You try to stand your ground anyway, albeit about to burst into shivers from the way he narrowed his eyes to you now, blowing another puff of grey you ended up inhaling into your system as well for how damn close he’s gotten, invading your comfort zone.

“That’s a shame.” He circled around you like some sort of a predator, but without touching you until you feel him stop just inches away, his hard chest brushing against your back. “Well go on, your car is right there.”

Your breath hitched as you began to walk to your car, unlocking the back door to throw your purse into with a slam. You don’t say anything as you placed your hand on the handle, chewing on your lips as he quirked an eyebrow, wanting to know what seemed to make you look a little stressed and all tensed up.

“Your date.” You slowly met his amused gaze. “How long?”

“Didn’t sleep with her if that’s what you were wondering.” You didn’t even want to lie — the wave of relief crashed through you, engulfing you in so you let go of the handle and headed to him, letting your burning desire drag you all the way to his arms as he pulled you into a suffocating embrace. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

Jeno flung his cigarette off his lips to kiss you hungrily causing you to moan in his mouth, tasting the peppermint candy he’s had and the slight bitterness from the cigarette but you didn’t care.

You didn’t care until he threw you in your backseat, ripping your underwear off you so easily and gave it to you right there and then, until you were in a verge of tears, unable to think straight as you moaned his name all over again like some sort of a mantra, dragging the both of you into eternal hell.

And to hell with him it is.

[year2000electronics]

For the reformed(?) Bill au, how did he end up with the Pines family? And on relatively chill terms with them? After all the manipulation and betrayal and torment, I wouldn't think they'd ever trust him, even if he oresented himself as a powerless human. (He could be lying! It's what he does!)

Did they just find him in a sad little heap somewhere? Did the Axolotl themself droo him off and ask them to keep an eye on him for therapy purposes? How did it come to pass that they even tolerate his presence after all he's done?

OKAY SO. a lot of people have reformed bill aus and a lot of people will give you different answers to how he ended up there, but this is my personal take on it and the au i like to call the funcle bill au!

i really don’t like it when people have the axolotl unceremoniously dump bill on the pines or the mystery shack without warning. it feels like the pines get demanded to do a lot of emotional labour for someone who really hurt them with no consulting them beforehand, and i just feel like that’s just so not my style :(

so what i like to imagine is that this au takes place a year after the summer we see in the show, so that everyone has had some time to breathe and reorient a little! it’s around this time that the axolotl starts visiting them in their dreams, just to, y’know, check them out. bill talks about the pines family a lot and axie wants to see what the family who defeated bill is like. but of course, the conversations slowly go from very detached and info-gathering only to the axolotl actually kinda befriending the family :) their enthusiasm is infectious

so sometime after that, the axolotl confers with all the zodiac in a shared dream and basically asks “hey. i have bill in the theraprism where he can’t hurt you anymore but i wanted to ask you if maybe you guys wanted to take him because he’s being really stubborn and has already cut off all his friends and the lack of connections is only making him worse. he would be human and have no powers and if he causes you enough distress i would take him back to the theraprism but i think the weirdness and positive spirit of this town might be able to help bill where the theraprism can’t. only if you want to tho ✌️” and all the zodiac spend a LONG while discussing it in the days after before agreeing, especially as both sets of pines twins are staying in town again for the summer

so bill gets dropped off in human form and gets a job at the shack, typical stuff, and he knows he has to behave otherwise it’ll be BORING GROUP THERAPY CHATS AGAIN. the road ahead is long and arduous and there’s DEFINITELY a lot of tension between bill and the rest of the zodiac, i just haven’t really had the creative juices to show it because i think it’s a very long and complicated process and requires some very skillful writing. just know that bill isn’t just getting auto-forgiven it’s just that most of that stuff is currently happening “offscreen” for me :V

BUT YEAH. mostly it’s my excuse to have bill and the pines hanging out cos i really do believe that more than anything else, that family is the closest bill had to true companionship. the henchmaniacs were his friends but also his enablers, his parents are super dead, the axolotl probably was wary of him due to his mean streak, but he sees himself in each pines and loves to bother them more than any other human. and i think there’s potential there. but i think it would require respect and patience from the axolotl, a “don’t try anything or you’re going in the time out corner” for bill, and the willingness to reach out a hand for the pines

^funcle bill and axolotl’s human disguise

thank you for the question!!

[jagibee]

Call Me Luna

(Stray Kids x Reader)

Chapter 4

2,078 Words

A/N: hihihihi, you guys ready for some quality Chan time? As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated and lmk what you think!!!

…

What the fuck.

Why was Bang Christopher Chan at your hotel room?

And dear god why did you have to be wearing your old sweatpants with a hole on the inner thigh in front of an internationally famous kpop band leader with a crazy hot accent and perfect abs?

Regretting that you had taken off your scent blocker and not reapplied one, you cleared your thoughts as best you could.

“H-hello, Chan. What are you doing here?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Is it all right if I come in?”

“Oh! Yes, of course, come in. Do you want a water or soda or something from the fridge?” You led Chan over to sit at the tiny desk while you sat on the bed across from him.

“No, that’s alright.” He looked up at you. “I wanted to talk about everything with you.”

Tilting your head, you responded. “I thought you said we were meeting tomorrow. Is there an emergency or something?”

“Ah, no, no, nothing like that.” He pressed his lips together and looked down at the desk. “I wanted to talk… without the company listening in.”

You hummed in understanding. “Alright. Anything specific?”

Just then, a knock sounded at your door.

You jumped up off the bed. “Sorry, excuse me, I totally forgot that I ordered room service.”

He smiled at you as you rushed to answer the door. As soon as you got your tray, completely littered with bowls and plates, you set it down on the tiny coffee table and sat down on the floor in front of it.

Looking up at Chan, you asked. “Do you want anything?”

He had been staring at the tray but his eyes flicked back up to you. “Hmm? Oh, no that’s alright. Sorry to interrupt you.”

You rolled your eyes and patted the floor next to you. “Come on, I ordered a bunch because I didn’t know what I would like. I can’t actually eat all of this. Honestly, it’s good that you came by so that there’s not a lot that’s wasted.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be rude.”

You patted the floor next to you even harder. “Sit down. It’s all getting billed back to the company anyway.”

He huffed out a laugh before finally settling down beside you.

By then you had taken off all the lids and were surveying everything. “Hmm. Any recommendations?”

His eyes widened. “Ooh, try this first,” he said, handing you a bowl.

You took a bite and promptly groaned. “Oh my god, this is so good. Is all hotel food here good?”

Chan chuckled at you. “No, I don’t think so. The company must have really wanted to impress you.”

You snorted. “Honestly, they could have set me up with a zero-star hotel and I would have been perfectly happy as long as they still gave me the job.”

He grinned back at that and took a bite from your bowl when you offered it. “Oh, shit, that is good.”

You gasped mockingly at him. “Bang Chan! You’re swearing? I’m telling your fans.”

He sighed fake exasperatedly. “I can already tell that you are going to gang up with my members against me, aren’t you?”

You smirked. “For sure, old man.”

You both smiled at each other and continued to eat, sharing bowls and making teasing comments. You were surprised how quickly you had become comfortable with him, but that was probably the Bang Chan Effect. Plus, you knew someone in a different type of way when you shared ramen while wearing old sweatpants at who-the-fuck-knows-o’clock.

Taking one last bite, you groaned and leaned back until your back hit the ground.

Chan copied you so you were lying next to each other with your legs splayed out under the coffee table.

You each turned your head to look at each other. God, he’s pretty.

You cleared your throat. “So what was it you wanted to talk about?”

He gazed off in thought before refocusing on you. “Well, we could start with any questions you might have? Ha-joon said you ran out of time today so I mostly wanted to see if you wanted to get any answers without the… company filter.”

You nodded in understanding and stood up to get the file from earlier. When you handed it to him, he sat up to read it and you laid back down in your previous spot.

You noticed Chan itching at his scent blocker. “Do you want to take it off?”

He tilted his head at you. “Sorry?”

You gestured at your own neck. “Do you want to take your scent blocker off?” At his widened eyes, you felt the need to clarify. “I’m not trying to make a move on you or anything, it’s just, you’ve had it on for a while and I know they get annoying, and hey, we might as well get used to each other’s scent already, right?”

He smiled warmly at you. “Right. Do you have a new one I could put on before I leave?”

Nodding, you went and got the box of heavy duty blockers that the company had delivered to your room when you got back. After you handed him one and he put it in his pocket, you laid back in your previous spot next to him.

Chan gazed at you while he peeled his off and threw it away. Settling back down, he turned to the file. Thank goodness he was too busy to notice how you were almost going dizzy with the strong scent of eucalyptus.

After looking over the file, he turned back to face you. “This is both less and more than I expected them to tell you.”

You let out a sharp laugh at that and sat up. “So, is there anything not in there that I need to know?”

Chan considered it for a second. “Well, Felix’s heat is the next one coming up, so we should probably focus on him first. The company wanted you to meet everyone tomorrow, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you or my members, so I thought it would be best if you just met the omegas? What do you think?”

You smiled up at him. “That’s perfect! I can’t wait. Anything I need to know before I meet them?”

Before he could respond, his phone started ringing. He checked it and looked back to you. “Sorry, is it alright if I take this?”

“Oh, sure,” you responded, “Do you want me to go out into the hall to give you some privacy?”

He shook his head. “It’s just Lino. I doubt he’s just going to expose all my deepest, darkest secrets on one random phone call.” Then, he looked off into the distance dramatically. “But really, who can tell with him?”

After he accepted, you could hear the voice without it even being on speakerphone. “Yah, hyung, what took you so long?”

You had to suppress a giggle at the way Chan sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m busy, what’s up? Is everything alright?”

“I just wanted to tell you that you’re buying coffee for the kids when they’re like zombies tomorrow.”

Chan leaned back and closed his eyes. “Mhmm. Why?”

“You’re the one who told them about meeting the caretaker soon and now they won’t sleep.”

“Tell them that only Hyunjin and Lix are meeting her tomorrow.”

There was a short pause before the other voice replied. “Yah, I’m not meeting her?”

Chan groaned and laid back onto the floor. “You can meet her later! Just the omegas tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow she can meet me, Yongbok, Hyunjin, and you. Then she can meet the others. That way it’s half tomorrow and half later.”

Chan cleared his throat. “Yeah, it didn’t exactly work out that way.”

“What do you mean, hyung?”

Chan glanced at you guiltily before he sighed and answered. “I kind of… met her already?”

“What?!”

At the even louder shout, Chan winced and held the phone further from his ear. “Yeah, I uh. I met her today. Walked in on a meeting accidentally.”

“What’s she like?”

You snorted at that. ‘What am I like?’ You mouthed at Chan.

He smiled back at you. “She’s cool. Gave me food. She smells good.” At that, you could feel heat rising in your cheeks.

“Wait, she gave you food in the middle of her meeting?”

Chan sucked air between his teeth. “Uh… not exactly.”

“Hyung. Where are you.”

Chan sighed. “I’m already buying you coffee tomorrow, can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Are you with her right now?”

“Maybe?”

“And you’re eating food with her?”

Chan laughed. “Well, not anymore.”

You could hear a joking growl over the line. “We’re getting a divorce. I’m taking the kids.”

Chan giggled. “Ah, no, you can’t take all of them!”

“Fine. You can have Seungmin. And Hyunjin.”

“Then Seungmin and Hyunjin can meet Y/N! And you can’t!”

At that, Chan got hung up on. All he did was laugh harder. You couldn’t help but join in until you were both spread out on the ground, limbs slightly overlapping, slightly exhausted from all the laughing.

I could live in this moment forever, you thought.

Then Chan’s phone buzzed. Pulling it out again, he checked it before he started laughing again. He showed you the screen as well.

My Evil Devil Rabbit🐇❤️

So if you met the caretaker today, then four people - me, Yongbok, Hyunjin, and In-ah - could meet her tomorrow and then the others can meet her after. 143.

You giggled at the text. “Wow, he really wants to meet me.”

Chan hummed. “They all do.”

“Great, no pressure,” you grumbled.

Chan blinked at you slowly. “They’re going to love you.”

Before you could respond, he picked up the file again, then turned his gaze back to you. “I know we said just the omegas tomorrow, but would it be alright if he met you? Otherwise, I’ll have to listen to him complain.”

You laughed at that. “It’s fine! I’m just glad I don’t have to meet all eight of you at the same time. Plus, I know he’s trying to play it off but he’s definitely just being protective of his omegas.”

Chan smiled softly at you. “You are good. So tomorrow you meet Danceracha?”

You hummed. “Well, I could also meet someone else. Gotta keep it 143, right?”

Chan released some ‘affectionate’ pheromones. His eyes widened and he slapped his hands over his neck. “Shit, sorry. That was an accident.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “You’re fine, I get it.” You released your own ‘soothing’ pheromones and continued talking once he relaxed. “So which of the other members am I meeting?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Well, Lino probably had a good idea with meeting I.N tomorrow. He’s extra sensitive because he’s still getting used to his ruts, so I think it would be good to meet him with the first group instead of making him wait.”

You nodded. “Sounds good to me. Oh! Before I forget…” Chan’s eyes turned to you. “Mini fridges.”

He recoiled. “Mini fridges?”

“Mini fridges,” you confirmed.

He huffed out a laugh. “What about them?”

“Do you have them?”

“No?”

You shrugged. “You should definitely get a couple. At least one for each dorm. That way, if someone is in their heat, or their slip, or their rut, and they don’t want to leave their room, they can still eat.”

Chan blinked slowly. “That’s a good idea. Anything else?”

You scrunched up your face. “Not anything I can think of now.��

“Alright.” He smiled and stood up. “I should be leaving soon. Otherwise, someone might try to hunt me down at my studio, only I won’t be there.”

You laughed at that and stood up to walk him to the door. You waited for him to take the scent blocker out of his pocket and apply it before he opened the door.

“Well,” he turned to you, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Y/N.”

You smiled up at him. “See you tomorrow.”

You watched him walk a couple feet away before he shouted “Wait!” And ran back to you. He pushed past you, grabbed the pen and file off the desk and wrote something down. He straightened up and handed it to you. “My number,” he told you, “text me if you have any questions!”

After the two of you exchanged goodbyes, he left and you slumped against your door.

What the fuck?

…

Taglist:

(Bold means I can’t tag you, sorry for the inconvenience!)

@eastleighsblog

@detectivedoodle

@niaalove

@scarletrosesposts

@royal-shinigami

@peachbokkie

@yuhjoeyuh

@im-sinking-in-mud

[kkcauseway]

Forever Chapter 2

Changed forever.

Chapter Summary I Life after moving isn't all it’s cracked up to be. Baby time happens much faster than expected, but your family rally round you in your moments of need. Chapter warnings/content I Tw- depictions of childbirth- premature baby 3weeks early. So much fluff. Making our beautiful Joel Miller a daddy again. Caring!Joel. Bill and Frank are the most amazing supporters. Word count I 7.6K

Next I Series masterlist I Main masterlist

In the days following your move Joel’s been busy constantly rearranging furniture to make each room to your liking. Not allowing you to do the most menial of tasks, which with you nesting and constantly looking for jobs to do around the house doesn’t help. He has to give in eventually, knowing you’re itching to keep your mind busy allowing you to get yourself ready for the impending arrival. You mostly stick to organising baby clothes into colours to wash, putting them away in specific orders and spaces which are labelled once dry, and cleaning, it keeps you happy and busy for long enough to not have Joel worrying about you hurting yourself whilst he deals with the big heavy tasks. And this is how it stays as you count down the days till babies arrival -or at least that’s how it’s supposed to be.

🍓🍓🍓🍓

When he’s occupied one morning you get to work on one of the jobs round the house you know he’d go mad at you for doing.

“Please explain to me what in the hell you��re doin?” He’s stood in the doorway staring at you, hands on his hips as you’re practically lying on the floor scrubbing away at the skirting board.

You look over your shoulder at him still scrubbing there’s no way to hide what you’ve been doing, “there’s just so much dust! I don’t want our child breathing it in!”

“Woman, get off your knees now” he moves towards you to lend you a hand getting up. You take it gladly, because as much as you don’t want to admit it, your back is hurting, and you think you’ve got a headache coming. “I can do that; you need to be relaxing there’s so many other jobs you could be doin’ that don’t take half as much strength as that.”

You laugh as he walks you to a dining table chair and forces you to sit.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack if you’re not careful.” He strokes your cheek.

“Sorry” you’re still giggling.

He shakes his head before moving over to where you were. He groans as he gets to his knees and drops his hand into the bucket of water to grab the sponge. He looks over his shoulder at you “s’it just this one you want doin?”

You nod “yes please.”

“See baby all you gotta do is ask.”

“Yeah, but you’re busy.” You feel bad constantly getting him to do things for you even though you know he won’t mind.

“M’never too busy for you baby” he turns back, reaches for the skirting, and begins scrubbing away. His top lifts slightly as he leans and gets to work. Revealing the bottom of his lean back.

“Mmm, you look good like that Miller.”

“You checking me out?” He grumbles still scrubbing.

“Maybe” you giggle. “I mean you’re hot regardless, but watching you do housework increases that tenfold” you both begin chuckling at that. After a moment you rise, walking over to him “I’m gonna go get some water, coffee?”

He looks to you “now that’s why I love you, yes please” and the smile he gives you is so genuinely so full of love. He really is the most amazing man.

As he turns back to the task at hand you hear him mumble under his breath as you leave the room “gonna be the death of me” you can’t help but begin laughing again. You know you make him mad, but you can’t help it. You love him.

You return a few minutes later drinks in tow “your drink sir.”

“Why thank you, ma’am,” he smiles as he takes the mug of black coffee from you and sipping. “Why are you drinkin’ water anyway, you hate it?” He quizzes as he pulls the mug away from his lips.

“Just got a bit of a headache starting” you shrug.

Concern laces his face; this is why you don’t like telling him when you don’t feel one hundred percent because he automatically worries “you okay?”

“I’ll be fine” you smile but he doesn’t seem convinced.

As the headache progressively gets worse you opt to take some of Frank’s homemade herbal pain relief in the hopes that’s all your body needs to finally get rid of it. You’re forever grateful for Frank’s wonderful medical mind and his need to learn, because he’s spent years investigating and learning about herbal remedies for all kinds of ailments.

-

When the headache doesn’t shift you decide an early night is what you need. It’s only about seven, but you make your way up to bed. Not having any dinner because you aren’t up to eating. You hope with sleep the pain will go and you’ll wake up refreshed.

-

It’s fitful, constant tossing and turning even if you do manage to sleep. After having been asleep for an hour or so Joel comes to check on you. Sitting down on the edge of the bed close to you as he begins stroking your cheek. He doesn’t miss how hot your skin feels.

His touch is enough to wake you and when he looks at how pale you look, he’s worried.

“How you feelin’?”

You groan as you open your eyes “my head hurts bad, and I feel a bit sick.”

“You want somethin’ to eat? You haven’t had any dinner that won’t help baby.”

“Maybe I don’t know.” You groan as you move to sit up in the bed “just don’t feel good.”

“I’ll go make you somethin’ just somethin’ small, but so you got some food in ya okay, anythin’ you want?”

“Yeah okay. Erm…” you begin giggling.

“What baby?” He smiles at you.

“Please don’t think I’m gross” you chuckle again “but can I have Strawberries and ketchup? Please beg Bill for some of his strawberries.”

“Can you what?” the disgusted look on his face has you cracking up.

“I’m serious, that’s what baby wants.” You shrug.

“Strawberries and-” he scoffs shaking his head “you’re crazy.”

“Nu uh, your daughter is the crazy one, she’s telling me she wants it!”

“Okay baby. Whatever my girls need” he kisses you before moving away.

He returns a small while later with some of Bill’s precious strawberries chopped up and some ketchup.

You can’t help but groan as you eat it “Jesus Joel this is good."

He chuckles watching in awe “whatever you say.”

“You should try it…” you smile wholeheartedly at him, wanting him to join in on the fun.

“Baby you’re lovin' it n I’d never take food from you. Just eat.”

“Well, more fool you” you chuckle as you take another mouthful.

You manage to eat it and keep it down, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. So, you think sleeping really is the only thing that will help. Joel decides to stay in bed with you, holding you close to him and that helps a lot. Just knowing he’s near is enough to calm you. He always knows exactly what to do to help.

You wake a few hours later still safe in Joel’s arms, but you don’t feel better yet. Carefully and quietly, you move out of his hold and make your way to the bathroom to splash your face with some water. Your headache is mostly gone, but the sick anxious feeling remains.

When you starts feeling super-hot again you make your way downstairs to go and sit out on the porch for a while. There’s a slight breeze out and that’s exactly what you need right now. The wind chime sings into the night quietly as you sit in the peace of the incredibly early morning; you can’t help but feel overwhelmed. And that’s when it hits you what’s wrong. You’re not ill, you’re stressed, almost overwhelmed by how calm life suddenly is. It’s like you’re actively seeking for something to be wrong because your life has never ran so smoothly. You’re just waiting for a really bad moment to happen. You can’t help the tears that begin to fall. You curl in on yourself on the bench as you will yourself to get all your emotions out.

When Joel wakes not long later and finds the bed empty, he’s immediately concerned. He searches the whole house for you eventually meeting you outside. You’re almost hysterical as he moves to sit next to you grabbing you close. He shushes you as he strokes your hair gently. “Baby what’s wrong?” He questions softly as you begin to calm down.

“Are we crazy?” You laugh wetly looking to him the sadness evident in your eyes.

“Crazy” he laughs “for what?”

“For having a baby, for choosing to bring life into this world.”

“No. Why would you think that darlin’?

You sigh, the thought alone making you want to burst into tears once more. “Well what sort of life will she have?”

He grabs your hands “well, we don’t know till it happens baby, but we are never gonna strive t’give her any less than the world, are we?”

“Nu uh” you shake your head as you sniff.

“No, we won’t. She’s gonna have the best life possible, so stop worryin’ that pretty head o’yours. Everythin’s gonna work out I promise baby. I know you’re worried even if you’re tryna hide it, and that’s okay havin’ a baby is a big change and it’s stressful, but we’re ready. Remember we’ve only been here three days, we’ve had three days of total calm after havin’ t’watch our backs all hours of the day for months, it’s a big change baby. It’s normal how you’re feelin’.”

You are ready to have this baby. You’ve known that from before you even made it to Bill and Frank’s, but it’s scary. Knowing you’re responsible for bringing new life into the world. Into a world where you have to survive in a completely different way to just needing to work to put food on the table and live comfortably. There’s a lot of twisted people in this world. That all that weight is on your shoulders, that your body is the one that has to go through it.

Thankfully Joel is the best support you could ask for.

“I hope you’re right.” You mumble.

“Baby I am you know I am. You’re just tired and stressed out, you need t’sleep. You’ve obviously been overdoin’ it t’keep your mind busy and you’ve been neglectin’ your feelin’s, you’re gonna make yourself sick if you keep doin’ that. So that stops now, okay? You need t’take it easy.”

You know he’s right “okay, I will I promise.”

“Good” he cuddles you close kissing your temple “you ready to go back to bed?”

You nod, and he kisses you once more before rising taking your hand in his to help you up.

-

When you wake the next morning cuddled up to Joel feeling one hundred percent again you think you must’ve seriously overdone it, mix that with how stressed you’ve been you genuinely were making yourself ill. So, you heed Joel’s advice to take it easier from this point forward.

🍓🍓🍓🍓

It’s only when you’re six nights into sleeping in your new home that there seems to be a bit of a life blip.

-

You wake with a gasp clasping at your lower stomach, breathing heavily. The painful wave slowly washes over your body, it’s baby time you can tell instantly. You’d been waking through the night with what you were thinking were back spasms but now you’re sure, they were contractions. Your heart pounds at the thought of it being too early, even if it is only a few weeks, it could be a whole lot worse, but even so, it’s early.

You’ve been nothing but surprised this whole pregnancy hasn’t been worse considering what you’ve been through and the world you now live in. Yet it’s like now that you have proper relaxation, a happy safe home, helpful people surrounding you, your baby is ready, your body is ready, you’re ready. It’s baby time…

Surrounded by the darkness of the room you reach to turn the bedside lamp on. Looking to Joel; he’s sleeping soundly next to you, unusually he hasn’t woken up in feeling you suddenly no longer in his grasp. It’s taken him a really long time to be this comfortable in his slumber. Fitful sleeps lessening more and more as time goes on, so you hate so much that you’re now going to have to wake him.

You eventually bring your legs over the side of the bed, your back to Joel as you take in a few deep breaths before trying to gain his attention.

“Babe.”

…

You clasp your stomach again “baby.”

…

With no response, mid catching your breath, you grab a pillow and throw it back at him. Catching him in the face.

“Joel!”

“Hmmm” he finally responds, instinctively reaching out an arm for you with his eyes still closed, realising the space next to him is empty, he opens his eyes.

Catching his bearings on where he is, he sees you perched on the side of the bed. He shoots up scooting over to you. Wrapping his arms around your body, resting his chin on your shoulder. “What is it baby, what’s wrong?”

“I think it’s time. Fuck it’s too early” you let out a puff of air.

He jumps away from your body stunned. “Shit what... really, are you sure? Fuck we need t’wake Bill and Frank, we gotta get everything prepped!”

You can’t help but let out a small chuckle before turning to look at him whilst bringing a hand up to stroke his face, “I think so.” You sigh “the pain comes in waves and it’s bad, but fuck she’s coming too early, I mean I’ve got like what three weeks to go, that can’t be a good sign.”

“Baby, how many books have we read on this stuff, I know this is scary, but anything after thirty-seven weeks is classed as full term. You’re over thirty-seven weeks, plus most babies don’t come on their due dates! They’re either early or late, try not to worry too much about that.”

“I know but it’s still early babe,” your voice breaks “she could be inside growing for another three weeks at least. I’m scared… I just want her to be okay. I want to keep her safe.”

That’s your mantra ‘keep her safe’ and it’s fucking scary.

“Don’t be scared gorgeous girl, we are all gonna help you through this, okay? She’s gonna be fine and so are you we will get through all of this together baby, okay?”

“Okay yeah.”

“Now let me go get Bill and Frank” he kisses your shoulder before moving to jump out of bed.

“No baby I don’t- sigh- I don’t think it’s fair waking them yet, or Ellie. There’s no point doing it any earlier than we need to. If we wake them now, I guarantee we are all gonna be up for hours and it’s not gonna be fun for anyone… we’ll all end up tired and cranky. We know what to do to prepare and to help my body to get ready, we know how to help me get through the contractions, so let’s leave them for now.”

“Okay” he whispers. “So, what d’you wana do baby?”

You sigh “I don’t know I guess just see how we go. Wait it out.”

“Fuck… I can’t believe this is happenin’” he laughs stroking a palm over his face, still puffy with sleep.

“Me neither” you giggle. “Ugh, I need to stand my backs killing” you move groaning as you stand from the bed turning to face him. You grip the underneath of your bump as you sway your hips slightly from side to side, Joel looks to you flustered and sleepy. Eventually throwing his head back onto his pillow on what can only be perceived as a stressed huff. You can’t help but laugh at him “awh you’re so handsome” you smile crawling back on the bed leaning over his body to kiss him, “I’m sorry I had to wake you” you mumble against him.

A look of disgust appears as he parts his lips from yours and looks into your eyes, “did you really just apologise when you’re havin’ our baby?”

“I guess I did” you laugh “force of habit, I don’t like it when you don’t sleep properly.”

“I know baby and I appreciate that” he reaches up to stroke your cheek, “but there’s more important things goin’ on right now than makin’ sure t’get my eight hours” he laughs again.

“Yeah, I guess” you huff, gazing around the room briefly “it’s so quiet here, you know I forget sometimes what’s going on beyond those gates. I forget how”- you’re cut off as a pain overcomes you. “Fuck” you whisper softly sitting back on your heels rolling your hips. Joel sits up with you, reaching round to rub at your back as his other hand envelops yours allowing you to squeeze. “Just breathe baby, y’got this.”

“Mmm, it hurts” you moan.

“You’re doin’ good baby” he presses at your back as you breathe through it. Letting out a big sigh of relief when the pain is finally gone.

“Do you think a bath would help you darlin’? I can go run y’one if you want.”

“Ooo, that might be quite nice actually. Will you stay with me when I’m in there though?”

“Course wasn’t plannin’ t’leave you anyways” he climbs out of bed with a groan not bothering to get dressed in any way, leaving you on the comfort of the bed. He turns on the water and adds some rose smelling bubble bath Frank had found especially for you.

After checking the temperature of the water, the way, he used to do all those years ago for Sarah, he returns to you, grabbing your hands and helps you to stand gently. He looks into your eyes a second as you try to maintain your balance smiling before rubbing your stomach. Standing behind you, one hand on your hip, he helps you walk to the bathroom.

“You, okay?” he questions tying your hair out of the way, you lean against the sink whilst he does.

“Yeah, I’m okay” you smile looking to him through the mirror before focusing on your bump “hoping the bath will help me relax.”

“I’m sure it will baby, will work wonders, ‘specially for your back.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” You begin moaning as another contraction takes over, swaying your hips in an effort to help you through the pain as you take deep breaths. Joel now finished tying you hair presses at your back “just breathe baby, breathe.”

Once the contraction is over you stand tall and turn to look at your husband. You smile and cup either side of his face. “Honestly Joel, I’d be so lost without you” you press a kiss to his lips before pulling away yawning, “ugh it’s like half two in the morning, great time to choose to be born bubba” you poke at your bump.

“She’s keepin’ us on our toes.” He rests a palm onto your solid bump.

“Yeah… well I mean she could choose to keep us on our toes at a reasonable time, you know after a full night’s sleep” you jest.

Joel chuckles as he holds your arms tightly helping you to lower into the bath. You let out a soft moan as your stomach hits the water. Feeling instant relief from the warmth. When you’re settled down, Joel gently grips your chin and brings your face to look at him as he presses a long kiss to your lips, but when you don’t respond how he expects he pulls away in order to search your eyes for what’s wrong, but you’re keeping them firmly shut “what is it baby?”

You let out a wet shuddering sigh “fuck, I’m just scared her coming early means somethings wrong.”

He brings a hand to cup the side of your face and you lean into it wantonly as he kneels beside the bath “baby look at me please” he smiles at you as you finally open your eyes “does it feel like somethin’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so, -sigh- it’s weird actually because it feels right almost, like she feels safe and wants to come.”

“See, then if it’s her time, it’s her time. She’s ready to let us meet her baby and we’re more than ready t’meet her ain’t we?”

“Yeah, we are” you whisper.

“Been waitin’ a long time f’her to make an appearance” he gently strokes your stomach in the water. “So, there’s no bein’ scared, we’re ready for this.”

His words are so relaxing to you as you lean back allowing the warm water to cover you up to your neck. You take deep breaths as you allow your mind to wonder, imagining your little family. After an hour of relaxing between contractions, when your body begins pruning you decide to get out. Joel helps taking your hands in his as you lift one leg out and to the floor before you move to take the other out, gasping when it’s halfway out. You gaze at the floor as you stand Joel looking with you, the clear fluid with hints of red that has just left you has you both startled. “Fuck my waters” the realisation makes your heart race.

“S’okay baby, it’s good means we’re gettin’ there, just breathe, let’s get you comfortable and then I’ll clean this up, okay?”

🍓🍓🍓🍓

After dressing you in a baggy shirt and leggings he leaves you on the comfort of the bed. He quickly changes into some clothes himself before stopping off at Ellie’s room knocking on the door gently before opening it and walking in. Ellie is quick to respond sitting up, grabbing her knife, flicking it open and turning on her light.

“Jeez gonna go on a stabbin’ party?”

“Shut up” she groans sleepily, eyes squinting from the brightness of her bedside light. “You know you can’t sneak up on me like that! I did the exact same thing to Riley; I literally told you about that last week! What’s wrong, it’s the middle of the fucking night Joel?”

“Baby’s comin,’ we need you t’run and wake Bill and Frank up.”

“Shit!” she hops out of bed fast, desperately searching the room for shoes and socks before turning to him quizzical look on her face “wait it’s too early, isn’t it?”

“Only a couple weeks, it’ll be fine baby girl, hurry and go get Bill and Frank, okay?”

“Yeah, I will, is she okay?”

Before he can respond you’re screaming his name, begging him to come back, he doesn’t hesitate to leave Ellie’s room finding you hunched over on yourself as you moan through a pain. “Fuck Joel, they’re getting so bad, this seems really fast!”

“It takes as long as it takes baby if she’s ready to come out, then we’re ready to get her out, v’sent Ellie to get Bill and Frank they’ll be here soon. We’re ready for her baby don’t be scared.”

“I just want her to be okay, that’s all I want. Her to be healthy, I’ll never forgive myself if she isn’t, I don’t want my body to fail her” you whimper as the pain begins to deplete; Joel holds you close.

“She will be baby, she will. Your body hasn’t failed her, it will not fail her” he kisses the top of your head.

By the time Ellie returns with Bill and Frank you and Joel have made your way into the living room where Joel is laying out some things ready. You’re pacing the length of the room sucking on your water bottle as they get into action to help.

“Guessing it’s showtime!” Frank beams

“Seems that way!” you laugh.

Frank is laying out some towels along the sofa as Bill and Joel ensure everything is organised. Your pacing stops, you place the bottle down and you rest your palms on the back of the sofa as your contraction takes full throttle, the groaning that leaves you has Frank quickly at your side pushing against your back.

Joel reassures from across the room, “remember your breathin’ baby, yeah good baby that’s good.”

You can’t believe the amount of support you have in your time of need. As your gaze searches the room whilst you breathe through the contractions you can’t help but admire how these three men before you are doing everything in their power to help make this as easy a process as possible. Everyone is running on the love you all have for this baby- it’s transformed into pure energy. Everything is so organised.

“Okay?” Frank quizzes holding your waist as you stand straight again with the pain finally gone.

“All good” you smile.

With a makeshift bed made on the sofa, waterproof protective sheets topped with blankets cover it as well as the floor, leaves there with nothing left to do but wait. Joel is at your side the whole time pushing on your back as and when you need it. Helping you to breathe through the pains. Reassuring you when it gets too much, and you need help calming back down. Helping with your random bouts of shivering- where you suddenly find you’re unable to stop your whole body from shaking, but you aren’t cold. There’s no reason for you to be cold it’s the middle of the summer. “Hey Darlin’ you cold?” You shake your head no “I- j-just can’t - stop-p shaking.” Evidently nerves and anxiety are getting the better of you, you can feel it. Your whole body is going into a kind of fight or flight response as you sit there shaking. Joel holds you close rubbing at your side to try to coax your body to calm down. “S’okay baby, all part of gettin’ her here that’s what you gotta focus on, gets us closer to meetin’ her.”

🍓🍓🍓🍓

Hours have now passed evidently as the light is now creeping in through the sides of the curtains and the birds have begun chirping.

“Joel, I think we should go on a walk?” you decide remembering reading about how exercise helps in practically all the books you read.

“A walk really, now y’sure?”

“Yeah fresh, July dawn air, plus exercise is meant to help you progress. I really just want her out now.”

“She’s right!” Frank adds smiling at you both “walking will work wonders.”

“Okay, if that’s what you wana do baby that’s what we’ll do.”

As it’s a warm July morning despite it being so early, there’s no need for coats, instead you just slide on your shoes and begin taking a slow walk around a small section of the town.

“You, okay?” Joel questions quietly.

You take a deep breath before replying “I’m okay, I can’t believe we’re actually doin’ this.”

“I know, it’s crazy. Wasn’t anything like this when we had Sarah, we were straight in the hospital and they looked at us like we were clueless kids, I mean we were young yes, but we knew what we were doing, well as much as the next couple… They weren’t nice to Sarah’s mom one bit, and I couldn’t wait for us to get outa there! Doin’ it like this is so much nicer, it’s real, surrounded by good people who only wana help.”

“I couldn’t imagine having this baby in the QZ, or even in a normal hospital if the world hadn’t gone to shit… I love that it’s like this. I might be in fucking agony, but I love this.” You’ve only been walking for about 15 minutes not having got too far almost constantly needing to stop as you contract. “Can we go back home now? I need to sit down.”

“You sure baby ain’t been out f’long?”

“I know but I’m feelin’ a lot of pressure I just wana sit down.”

“Pressure? Like you need to push?” He startles eyes bugging.

“No” you can’t help but chuckle as you look to him “not yet, but just there’s all this pressure in my back. It hurts more being up on my feet. I kinda thought it would help but it definitely doesn’t, I think no matter what I’m gonna be uncomfortable until she gets here now.”

“Okay. We’ll get you home baby, get you comfy again.”

You slowly walk back to the house arm in arm with Joel. He hasn’t left your side, completely ignoring his own needs to ensure you’re okay. He’s been awake for hours, just as long as you but he isn’t complaining. He’s being absolutely perfect. The sort of example of how a man should treat you and you can’t wait to tell your child this story.

Once back in the house he helps to ease you back onto the sofa. The room is empty, and so much brighter with the curtains now open. You can hear chatter coming from the kitchen. “They must be eatin’ breakfast” Joel utters as he cuddles you close.

You push off him to look him in the eye “go join them you must be starving.”

“M’not leaving you baby.”

“Joel go eat, please.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, it’s not like you starving yourself is gonna make this baby come any faster” you chuckle before gently shoving at his chest “go eat now.”

“You want anythin’?”

“No thank you, I’m good I’d definitely throw up if I ate something right now.”

“Want a drink or anythin’?” he stands but is super reluctant to leave.

“Joel, we are gonna fall out in a minute! Please goooo and look after yourself for five damn minutes, I’m okay I’ve got a massive bottle of water here” you laugh as you point.

“Okay baby, holler if you need me?”

“I promise, now go and eat!”

He jokily salutes as he walks into the kitchen disappearing behind the door.

You breathe slowly through the next few contractions swaying your body from side to side to try to alleviate some of the pain in your back. They’re agonising and there’s hardly any space between them at this point, but you’re managing it as best you can. Finding ways to cope, trying not to scream the house down (too much).

You begin to shift uncomfortably as you feel a load of sudden pressure down below, vastly different from the pressure you’ve been getting in your back. You can’t help the way your body begins to squeeze and the pain that overcomes you is absolutely excruciating. Then you feel it, that sudden agonising urge to push.

“JOEL!” You scream as tears coat your cheeks. He smashes open the kitchen door and comes running to the room. Bill, Frank, and Ellie close behind. You’re in too much pain to speak to any of them your hearts beating too quick to register what they’re asking of you. It’s the only thing you can hear, the thump of your own heart echoing through your body. You feel as Joel comes to sit next to you grabbing your hand, but your entire body is tight as the pain rips through you, and you can’t help but scream. All composure lost.

As the pain slowly begins to alleviate you hear as Frank seems to address Joel “I think it’s time.”

When you stop screaming and it turns to panting your tear-filled eyes scan the faces looking back at you. Your lip quivers as you struggle to steady your breathing.

“Okay baby?” Joel softly questions “that’s it just breathe calm yourself down.”

You nod. Looking to him through glossy eyes “I need to push” you whine.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I really need to push I can feel her coming out!”

Joel and Frank both jump, Bill seeming to be the only adult in the room who’s still composed, and Ellie just watches from the sidelines, a nervous spectator.

“Okay baby we gotta get y’leggings off.”

You nod in response as Joel kneels at your feet “want me to cover you up?”

“I don’t care just get them off so I can get her out!” you scream again pushing at the waistband of your leggings as a pain rips through you. Bill rushes to your side sitting as he gives you one of his hands to squeeze using his free hand to rub at your back.

When the leggings are off your body Joel coaxes you to move closer to the edge of the sofa so you’re in an optimal position to give birth.

Joel looks up at you as he rests his hands over your knees “Just listen to your body baby if you need t’push, push.”

“I’m scared!”

“I know baby, I know, but she’s finally comin’ n’that’s what matters.”

“Exactly flower” Frank presses a kiss to your forehead before also kneeling before you giving you one of his hands. “You squeeze onto mine and Bill’s hands as much as you need to and let’s get this baby out. I know what I’m doing so don’t worry okay?”

Joel and Frank both kneel on the floor before you watching the progress, Bill had readied towels and hot water before coming to be your personal squeeze toy. When a pain starts, you scream and push, you can’t help but cry too. Never ever having felt pain like it. You push for the ten seconds that Frank counts, stopping with a gasp as you throw your head back panting.

“Joel come up here please” you beg.

“But I thought you wanted me here; said you wanted me to catch her?”

You move your head back looking into his eyes “hold me please” as you begin crying again.

“Okay baby girl”

He has a quick conversation with Frank before moving to sit the other side of you taking your other hand from Frank’s. You rest your head on his shoulder as he kisses your head, much preferring it this way. “You got this baby” he whispers softly. Joel acts all composed but you know deep down he’s as scared as you are and rightfully so, he doesn’t need to be down that end stressing he should be with you helping you and enjoy seeing your baby come into the world the same way you are. Frank had already said multiple times he was happy to be the sole person to help deliver, but you always liked the idea of Joel being there too. “M’right here baby, you got this m’so proud of you” he mumbles into your hair.

“Her heads coming” Frank announces as you continue to pant heavily. “Push hard with the next pain” and so you do, giving it everything you’ve got as the contraction takes over. Feeling the head coming out further you take a quick deep breath before pushing again not waiting on another pain to get it completely out. You do this until the head it fully out gasping loud as you throw your head back. You’re about to go again when Frank interrupts “just keep panting don’t push yet” he demands suddenly. “What, why?” He doesn’t reply but reaches to hold the baby’s head. “Frank?” You plea whispering. You can’t see what he’s doing but can feel as his fingers move.

“S’going on Frank?!” Joel growls.

“Cords wrapped round her neck just easing it off” you watch the concentration on his face and the relief that washes over once he pulls his hands back away “okay you can push when you’re ready. Give me a nice big one okay flower gotta get the shoulders out.”

You nod taking a moment to compose yourself before pushing again, panting heavily as you feel the sweat that coats your face drip, eager for it all to be over so you can meet your beautiful baby. You know you have to push a lot harder to get the shoulders out and you’re more than ready. After three more agonising pushes, screaming loudly as you grip onto the men either side of you. “Push, push, push, that’s it she’s coming!” Frank exclaims you feel as the baby slips free, crying instantly as you gasp with relief. Frank quickly places them against your chest as you lean back against the sofa. He places a towel over the tiny body as you hold them close, tiny but loud whimpers matching yours. Joel sits back with you placing a palm to his new babies head. You can’t stop crying, he can’t stop crying, emotions way too high “she’s here, oh my god she’s here!” You cry.

“You did it baby, you did so good” Joel praises kissing your forehead his own tears forming “Oh she’s so beautiful” Joel whimpers.

“Oh my god she’s so small” you utter eyes glossy as you stroke at her back, chest still heaving from what you’ve been through.

Minutes pass in what feels like seconds and when everyone’s tears have subsided, and yes everyone does include Bill. Ellie breaks the silence “well?”

“Well, what?” Joel counters looking over his shoulder at her as she moves closer to get a look at the baby.

“You’re still saying ‘she’ does that mean it’s confirmed?”

“Oh yeah, best check huh?” Joel chuckles looking back to you.

You begin to laugh too gently easing your body forward to sit straight Joel helping you to do so. When in position you cradle your baby’s body in both palms as you bring them off your chest. They squirm slightly as they’re moved, you pull them away from your chest quickly observing the tiny body and as expected; it’s a girl…

“Beautiful little angle girl” Frank whispers stroking a finger over her tiny little hand.

“She’s gorgeous beaut” Bill praises aside you.

You look to Frank before also flicking your eyes to Bill. “Honestly thank you both so much for this, for all of this, you two gave me life, you’ve allowed me to live out my dreams in this fucked world. I love you both so much.”

Bill moves close to your side brining you in close to his body “we love you too, always.”

“Ouch” you suddenly wince. Feeling a stabbing pain down below, you’re already feeling so much going on down there, but as you feel something coming away it hurts all over again.

Frank stokes at your leg “take it easy, sit back for me flower gotta get the placenta out, it’s not gonna be pretty” you nod carefully leaning your body back keeping your legs spread so he can work as you admire your crying daughter as you cradle her to your chest again.

“Oh, I know honey you’ve had a busy day huh?” You stroke her back softly, laughing when she doesn’t let up her cute sobbing “yeah that’s it you tell em.” You continue to hold her close willing her to calm down and then she does. Turning the noises she makes into little coos.

“Joel look at her” you whisper as you place a kiss to the top of her head.

“She’s absolutely stunnin.’ You did so amazin’ gettin’ her out.”

You breathe a much more content sigh as you really take a moment to process what you’ve just done. Exactly what it is that your body’s been through. Your heart hurts with the amount of love you’re feeling for this tiny bundle on your chest. Frank gently clamps the cord and once white Joel has the honour of cutting it.

“Joel why don’t you clean her up, get her in a nappy and some clothes before she gets cold and starts screaming again. Best to get her comfy before then huh? We know exactly what her mamas like when she’s not happy so let’s not have her getting that loud again” Frank looks up briefly with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Frank, you love me way too much to mean that” you chuckle softly before kissing your daughter’s head.

“You know I do” he winks before looking back between your legs again to focus on the matter at hand.

Joel strokes your head gently to gain your attention “you okay if I take her baby.”

“Yeah” you mumble sadly, placing another kiss to her head before he very carefully picks her up. It makes you cry again as you watch him love his new daughter; hold her for the first time and kiss her forehead gently.

“Hi, my beautiful girl, your momma and I have waited a long time for you, and we’ve picked out the cutest little outfit for you.” He utters quietly as he walks over to the changing table. You watch it awe at his ability to parent, at how natural it all is to him. He makes conversation with her the entire time he’s paying her attention, it’s obviously in his blood that he’s meant to be a daddy. And even if it has been over thirty years since he was last a daddy to a newborn, it’s as though nothings been forgotten. Down to the most minute of details, he’s amazing.

Bill kisses your forehead whilst you wait admiring Joel work from a distance “I’m so proud of you, I really am you did amazing.”

You turn to look him in the eye as tears threaten release once more. He quickly brings his thumb to wipe the escaping tears away. “No more tears now, it’s over and a new chapter of your life is starting.”

“I just still can’t get over the fact I did it and that I got to do it here, with my whole family around me, somewhere safe, so full of love.”

“Trust me when I say we’re honoured you chose to have her here, we’ve both never been so excited for something. You gave us both so much purpose in life beaut, I know you always say we saved you, but you saved us just as much.”

As you begin sniffling, he pulls you close to his chest, stroking your arm gently as he places another kiss to your head.

“Here she is” Joel announces returning after about fifteen minutes with your clean daughter in a little pink floral baby grow. Way too big for her tiny frame. You’d picked out a blue and pink baby grow ready for when you knew what gender your gorgeous baby was.

Bill is still holding you close as Joel begins speaking “now mama, we got her all dressed up for you, but it’s a bit too big so her feet don’t go where they’re supposed to just yet, they don’t reach” he chuckles as he admires his daughter all scrunched up. Mittened hands held close to her face as she stares up at him.

“Placentas out. You wana move to lie down dlower?” Frank questions as he brings a blanket over your legs.

“No, I wana feed her first so I’ll just sit back and try that first.”

“Come on beaut I’ll help.” Bill stands quickly helping you move into a better position propping pillows up around you so that you can feed her comfortably. He then begins helping Frank to tidy away. You quickly take your top off and Joel helps to put her back into your arms. She immediately starts fishing around for your nipple and with Joel’s help placing her in a position to take it into her mouth she latches quickly. It’s painful at first and you can’t help flinching, but you get more comfortable with every suck. Joel covers your other breast back up with a blanket, so you don’t feel as exposed and sits where Bill just was as they get to work cleaning. He doesn’t leave your side through the feed.

“I still can’t believe she’s here” you whisper stroking a finger over your daughter’s cheek as she guzzles content whilst Joel leans his head on your shoulder to be as close as he can.

“You did it baby, you did so amazin,’ and I love you so much f’giving her to me.”

“Awh” you turn to look him in the eye smiling “I love you too, so much” you lean in to kiss him, and he meets you halfway.

After about thirty minutes of feeding, an even 15 minutes on each breast she begins showing signs that she’s full. “I think she’s done baby.”

“She did good, bet she’s all nice and full now.”

You gently pull her away from your breast and Joel helps cover you back up. She scrunches her body together evidently tired. “Will you burp her I’m scared” you look to Joel.

He chuckles lightly “baby you won’t hurt her I promise.”

“But she’s so small and you’ve done it before you know what you’re doing I don’t. I don’t want to do anything wrong.” You can’t help the way your eyes begin filling with tears.

“Hey baby no, none of that” he wipes the tears from your eyes “you won’t do anythin’ wrong; you learn as you do with parenting. Trust me you can do so much preparing, so much reading, but until you do you have no idea what you’re doing. Take it from me I was young, way outa my depth, but I did it and loved every fuckin’ second just like I’m gonna again. And I’m always gonna be here to help. We will help each other we both have loads to learn. Okay?” He smiles as he reaches to take your daughter from your arms “just watch what I do okay baby, I promise you won’t hurt her.” You nod as you watch him perch your tiny daughter on his knee holding under her chin as he keeps her back straight tapping and rubbing firm but not too hard. Your daughter looks unimpressed and scrunches her face angrily as her daddy taps at her back. It doesn’t take long for her to let out a loud belch and he then brings her to his face, places a kiss to her forehead before lying her so her head sits on his shoulder.

“You’re so good with her” you stroke at your daughter’s head as he pats her bottom gently.

“You’re good with her too, a lot better than you give yourself credit for.”

“How can you know that she’s about an hour old” you chuckle.

“Trust me I know. You’re an amazin’ mama and m’gonna tell you every single day."

Next I Series Masterlist I Main masterlist

[all-pacas]

Can you talk more about Chase's moral stand in The Dictator and what made him do such a shift? While Chase did care about people outside of his immediate circle at times,it was (almost) always by the way of him relating to said experiences and/or bonding with the patients.

I really don't think it's that complicated. As fun as it is to joke about Chase's utter lack of morals and empathy, that's never actually been true. He reaches out to Foreman in Family with empathy and an offer to go drinking; he reaches out to Cameron in Cursed with offers to do work so she can go home and to… go drinking (Chase has one move). He is very upset when he loses patients in Maternity and Forever (both babies; still). He cries over House's "cancer" in Half Wit even before the hug. He falls very hard for Cameron; he reaches out to 13 in After Hours, his pro-euthanasia stance in Informed Consent is about easing pain. One of my favorite little moments is in Cane and Able: the child patient's parents are exasperated and unsupportive of their son's alien abduction delusions, and Chase makes a point in talking to them, telling them pretty frankly that they need to support their son, even if they think he's nuts. He didn't need to do that. He was absolutely right. When he finds out House lied to the transplant committee in Control, he does rat to Vogler… but he doesn't do anything to undermine the transplant, which proceeds. Generally speaking, he knows right from wrong and doesn't approve of "harming people" (in particular children) or "hurting people." Yes, we mostly see that with the people he does care about, but. He doesn't really like Foreman much. Foreman is often quite dismissive of Chase. Chase still offers to go drinking. Is he the nicest and sweetest guy ever? Nah. But he's not evil.

Where his "lack of morals" comes in is that Chase puts himself first. He's not selfish in the way we usually think of it; he does care for other people, and quite a lot at times. But he's a survivor, he looks out for himself first. The rare times he refuses an order from House, it's because he thinks the risk to his career or license is too high. If a task requires him to go out of his way when he doesn't care about it, he won't do it. If a task leads him into an uncomfortable situation, as in Safe — faced with the choice of revealing to the patient's overprotective parents that their daughter is sexually active, or just billing them for a test and letting them find out on their own time — he chooses the easier-for-him option. He doesn't really care that House is on drugs. He doesn't really care about all the shady things his job comes with, as long as he doesn't risk losing it, getting arrested, or the end result. Lying to a patient? Why not, if it gets the job done. That doesn't mean he's pro murder. It just means he's lazy and pragmatic. Again, the rare times he defies House, it's when House is asking him to do something that is too "high risk" for Chase.

So the thing about Dibala is that Chase actually feels that murder is still wrong. He has morals, and those morals are: don't kill people, it's wrong. He makes it pretty clear.

CHASE: You can't want to kill anyone, especially not your own patient. CAMERON: It's only natural to feel he should – CHASE: No, it's completely unnatural. Only psychopaths can kill other people without having some sort of breakdown. CAMERON: Not when it's justified. Look at soldiers. CHASE: Even when it's justified.

Except the entire episode, all Chase is hearing is the opposite. I'm not saying Cameron pushed him into it or anything: he made up his own mind. But Cameron keeps telling him he's evil and should die. Dibala's would-be assassin tells him, twice, that Dibala is evil and should die and here is what he witnessed and did.

So let's look at the scene where Chase decides to do a murder. Cameron has been going through her own Arc in this episode, passive-aggressively hinting someone should kill Dibala but not making any moves on her own. Dibala gets sick of this and grabs her, challenging her to act, not just talk, but Cameron can't do it and backs down, leaving Chase and Dibala alone.

CHASE: If you touch my wife again, I'll kick your ass out into the street. I don't care who you are. DIBALA: I did her a favor. I showed her her true character. CHASE: She's a better person than you are. DIBALA: She is too weak to act on her beliefs. That is not her fault. Most everyone is. Even my own advisors. My own colonel. All they do is negotiate and debate and sign treaties. They are appeasers. And all the while, we are beset by assassins and traitors, the scum – CHASE: Cockroaches? What are you going to do about them? DIBALA: What is an enemy to you? Some younger physician who covets your office? In my world, there are dangers and bloodshed and death. And that makes you a man. And men make choices. CHASE: And your choice is to send bands of drunk, crazed children to massacre an entire people? DIBALA: Don't ask me questions you don't want to know the answer to. CHASE: I saved your life. I deserve to know what you're planning to – DIBALA: Whatever it takes to protect my country.

Chase is mad: he just hurt Cameron, and more than that, Chase is a little betrayed. He and Dibala kind of got along before this. I wouldn't say Chase liked him, but they bonded. Until this moment, Dibala was polite. He was complimentary. He offered Chase excuses, and Chase probably wanted to believe them. Not anymore! Dibala just hurt Cameron, called her weak, and told Chase blatantly "I'm planning another genocide."

Chase is angry: I saved your life, you need to be honest with me, you shouldn't be like this.

Until now, Dibala had polite excuses: it wasn't his fault, he had bad subordinates who killed people, he made mistakes. Weak excuses, but the kind of excuses Chase probably did believe, kind of wanted to believe. Not anymore! This nice old man has just revealed himself to be planning more murders!

That's what makes Chase act. What tips him past "I'm not getting involved" into "time to do a murder." He spends the entire episode hearing everyone talk about how someone should kill Dibala. And then Dibala betrays his (very misplaced) trust, reveals himself to be just as evil as everyone has said, and even gives Chase a nice little speech about how strength is to act, how to be a man is to make a choice, not just sit back and do what's easier.

It was never a matter of lol Chase is fine with murder, he doesn't care about anything. Chase cares about quite a lot of things. The trick was getting him to care enough to put himself at risk and act.

[jubileeena]

BEHOLD: MALWARE AU

So. We all know Turbo. He's kind of the flavour of the month right now. He's a horrible little piece of shit and we love him for that!

As a result of a couple posts that I'll link when I'm on desktop (or you can look through my blog its some of my most recent reblogs) and That One Video Essay I got to thinking about how much of Turbo's actions came from his nature, what cropped up out of desperation and jealousy, and what came from the nightmare virus that ate him. Then I got to writing. A lot. And now I have a monster fanfic that might or might not ever get written but I might actually explode if I don't share some of it.

This snippet revolves around Vanellope, mostly, and my continuous ongoing realization that modding/slightly retexturing video games is actually a lot easier than I thought it was. Enjoy!

Prologue

Vanellope hasn't been a part of her own game for 15 years. It's long since figured out how to function around her, but now King Candy's been dealt with via hot cola insecticide and she adamantly refuses to ride in his little vanilla-white kart. Not with her own baby waiting right there for her.

Except the game really really wants her to.

The kart bakery is supposed to be a fun side minigame. The kart lasts until the player stops feeding the game quarters, then it will restore itself to the default kart for the racer.

She's been carefully ignoring the crackling parts of code that bubble up around her when she revvs the engine too hard for days now, telling herself it was just remnants of her own glitch messing with her driving. But right after she crossed the finish line at the end of the final race of that day, it glitched so badly she was left lying on the track as it rammed itself into the boundary.

She'd spent most of that evening moping around and complaining under her breath about the mess her predecessor had left her - - until she thought huh. If Turbo could program his whole throne-stealing butt into the game, why couldn't she just... Slip in and fix her kart?

Sour Bill didn't seem happy at all when she slipped behind the curtain of her throne room (bleh. Needed to redecorate that soon. Way too princess-y for her taste), but he dutifully agreed to stand guard as she followed the instructions on the handy little piece of paper that lay discarded on the floor.

Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, START

Yes! She jumped into the darkness without thinking, entranced by the nebula of nodes and string of information that made the glitch constantly buzzing under her skin sing.

This is what she was meant for. This was why the game kept her around. It loved her.

Her node was easy to find, set in the center as it was with streams of code coming from it. She blipped up to it, and kicked her feet excitedly as she floated in place, and tapped it to enlarge it.

Wow, it really was easy. All she had to do was find her primary kart file, and swap it with the one in the Bakery's subfolder that held the information for her baby, and that was that. No wonder King Boogerface managed to mess things around so much, if what was all it took.

Task complete, she turned around to try and reorient herself to find the exit again, but a flickering node caught her eye.

It was strobing worse than any of the others, and there was no visible text on it to give any clue as to what it could be. She blipped over to it and tapped on it-

Only to be thrown backwards as it quadrupled in size, mangled streams of code now visible through it's translucent surface.

She glitched again to lose her momentum and stop somersaulting through the void, then back towards the code box. She reached a hand inside and flicked her wrist in a movement she instinctively remembered, and pressed confirm when the prompt came up to clear the cache memory.

It spluttered for a moment, then as if expelling a sickness the darkness bled from the body of the node and dissolved into the void, leaving behind a little red code box, smaller and less defined than the rest, connected to everything with only a thin strand but with it's pixelated text quite clear for her to read, and her breath hitched.

Turbo

[immajustvibehere]

Spark (8/8)

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Chapter 8 summary: Found and taken in by the Natives, Arthur is walking a fine line of living and dying. In the grip of illness and fever, he often imagines seeing you by his side.

This is a long chapter, so I gave it sub-headings. Easier to manage if you can't read it in one go :)

link to my masterlist

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven

7500 words, +30 minutes reading time

I. The Downfall of the Gang

A prevailing notion circulated in the gang that you and Molly shared culpability for the Pinkertons’ decent upon Lagras. They nearly razed the settlement to the ground, and the frustration about the new location of camp being found out so soon certainly didn’t help to improve the general mood. With you gone, there was no way you could justify yourself and nobody was keen on defending you either, though some people were convinced of your innocence either way. Notably, Abigail, though somewhat resenting you for having left, given Jack’s affinity for you and John’s confinement, was sure you wouldn't send the agency to shoot at them. Artur knew that you wouldn't do such a thing, as you had absolutely no reason to. Many people in the gang knew that it was way likelier that the Pinkertons picked up the trail from some of the boys coming back from Guarma, considering the gang was worth almost nothing without its leader anyway.

Dutch readily agreed that it must have been you, his main intention probably being to silence Micah, whose ceaseless prattle on the matter had grown unbearable. Micah spit phrases like: "She probably thought that she could get rid of us so we wouldn't go after her for the betrayal."

This went too far, even for Dutch’s taste, who was aware that they had other battles to fight. It was useless to hunt either you or Molly down and just a waste of resources and guns that were scare to begin with.

Arthur was distraught that you were gone. When he rode out with Charles, to search for a new camping spot up North, Charles handed Arthur the gun that he had borrowed you. The gesture resonated with a finality surpassing all preceding farewells…though there hadn’t even been proper good-byes.

"She uhm...she said anything? 'bout where she's headed?", Arthur asked as he let the gun slip into his saddle bag.

"I'm sorry", Charles shook his head, "She was a great help when we moved camp, but she disappeared soon after. She gave me the gun and told me to hand it back to you if I get the chance. You know, we weren't even sure if you had survived."

And the topic was left at that. The gang moved to Beaver's Hollow and Arthur felt a sickness nagging on his body. He started boiling with rage, every time your name was mentioned in a negative sense. Mostly by Dutch and Micah. Soon after, Bill started to complain about you too. Arthur would be lying if he told someone that he wasn't looking for you. It wasn't an active search, but whenever he was in town, he'd ask a few men at the bar if they had seen a woman of your description. Though the answers were barely trustworthy most of the time.

At the saloon in Annesburg, he spoke to a drunk man, who, as answer to your description mumbled a "fierce little creature" before he fell asleep on the table. This was the best lead Arthur had, and it wasn't nearly enough. He was roaming the country, avoiding collecting the debts, suffering under how sluggish his body was willing to comply to what he wanted it to do.

The first time Arthur was happy you had left, is when the doctor had told him, that he had tuberculosis. Until then, Arthur had mixed feelings. He appreciated that you left the gang to save yourself, because it took no genius to understand that whatever had bound the gang together was a thin thread that threatened to snap any moment. When he saw how Molly ended, however miserable he felt for her, he had been glad it wasn't you that had come back to die in the dirt. And still he had harboured feelings of resentment for you. Leaving without a word, without showing yourself ever again, when on that ride back from Guarma to Shady Bell he had hoped for you to be there, for some hug or any sort of gentle sign that would have soothed his aching soul and body. He realized soon that he was foolish to hope for that. And that Micah was right to accuse him of having become soft, if your gentle hands was all he could think of, despite your hands being mostly anything but gentle.

But as he sat outside camp, wheezing and wiping the blood off his lips that he had coughed up, he was glad you weren't here. Whatever urges he had to be comforted, to see something else but a bitter and angry face, the feelings of having failed and paying for his sins was the stronger force. He deserved it, after all. And he shouldn’t wish for comfort.  

-

He, as many others, tried to avoid camp as often as possible. In those two weeks, when the hostility between him and Dutch was especially high, because he and Sadie had rescued John from prison, he spent most of the days roaming the country and helping strangers. It wasn't that those trips took his mind off you, quite the contrary.

It was when he was out fishing with Hamish, a veteran with an impulsive horse, that he mentioned you for the first time to anyone that wasn't Charles or Mary-Beth (not counting Jack, who regularly asked where you where and why you had gone).

"Ya know. There's this girl...we went fishing a while ago and she couldn't deal with the waiting."

Hamish felt that it was dangerous territory, so he considered Arthur's pondering face for a while before he finally said: "You should take her here sometime. While we wait for the fish to bite, I can tell her stories so interesting, she' gonna hope that nothing bites."

Arthur chuckled sadly and shook his head: "She left, 'm afraid. She was right to do so. Ain't especially lucky to be around me."

As if the universe heard those words, Hamish was pulled into the water only moments after by the gigantic Pike they were after. It gave him and Arthur something to laugh in the aftermath.

-

"I'll draw them away from you! Go!", Arthur yelled, desperate pulling the reigns of his horse as John dismounted his.

"Come with me", John implored, "We can make it out of here!"

But Arthur understood he couldn't. The train heist only hours before and Abigail’s rescue had drained his strength. His body was tired, no, it was surrendering. He knew he couldn’t keep up the pace. His horse was his only support now, if he abandoned it, his legs would betray him. It wasn't just the tiredness of his limbs, he felt nauseous, sick, the sweat was on his forehead, causing his hat to cling uncomfortably.

"No. I pushed all I can”, Arthur’s voice was strained, “I'll buy ya some time, keep them off your back a while longer, you run and join Abigail and Jack."

"You're my brother!"

"I know", and with those words said, the brothers turned their backs to each other, John fleeing up the mountain, Arthur desperate circling the small area with his horse, firing round after round until he had shot himself a path of escape. The horse’s pained bucking under the impact of a bullet seared through Arthur’s heart, yet he urged it on. The loyal animal complied, carrying its master through thicket and woods as bullets whizzed past. Finally, it collapsed, half of its heavy body falling on Arthur who had ungraciously been thrown off.

The head of the horse was weirdly twisted, but Arthur still heard its heavy breaths. That aside, it was silent in the forest. Killing it would be the noble thing to do. But his vision was already blurred when his hands crept to his gun that was long out of bullets. And before he realized that it was silent in the forest and he had managed to shake the Pinkerton’s, Arthur closed his eyes, not being able to fight the exhaustion any longer.  

He was dead. Or dying, at least, because every time he gained consciousness, his whole body felt like it was on fire. With immense effort, he pried his eyes open, only to be greeted by a hazy image, his pounding headache blurring his surroundings. Arthur struggled against his own lethargy, he wanted to gain control of his body again. Neither of his limbs moved, no matter the effort he was putting into it. His eyes wouldn’t focus, his chest no rise enough for a proper breath. Every time however, without failure, weariness washed over him and unconsciousness reclaimed him before he could even form a thought about the state he was in. It was a cruel cycle.

When Arthur woke up for the third, maybe fourth time – there was no way of keeping count of those seconds of consciousness – he thought only one thing: Namely, that if that was dying, he hoped it would go a little quicker.

At some point, Arthur stirred awake. He felt stronger than before and finally had enough wits to take in some of his surroundings. It was nighttime, he perceived the nocturnal chorus of crickets. His attempt to open his eyes was met with a revelation, his vision, though fatigued, offered him a somewhat clear image. It was exhausting to look; he barely blinked a few times. He was in a tent, or something of that sort, he noticed. And it rocked around, like a boat or a waggon…or maybe he was just feeling dizzy. And when he managed to move his head just a little, to glared to the side, there were you. For a second, Arthur thought nothing. Then he concluded that he must be dreaming or was indeed dead and this was some funny way to pay for his sins. He closed his eyes. His arms felt too heavy, he wouldn't be able to rub his eyes or pinch his nose in concentration. But he simply opened them again. And the image of you was gone. So was Arthur's consciousness, a few moments later.

II. The Recovery

Over the next couple of days, Arthur would wake up from time to time. Sometimes seeing you, sometimes faces of women he didn't recognize. Dark skin and dark hair, Indians, he thought. Then he'd have nightmares that sometimes took his breath away and he'd wake up, feeling like a heavy weight was crushing his chest. And there would be someone - you, another woman, some strange man - pressing wet rags to his face and he wasn't strong enough to complain about it. To tell them to stop because it kept waking him up from dying, from sleeping, from unconsciousness. Whatever that black void was he'd fall in, but he much preferred it because then his body didn't hurt so much.

"You're going to be alright, mister."

Arthur opened his eye to look into the face of a dark-skinned woman. Braids falling from her head that was dangling right onto his face. There was the wet rag again, but it didn't feel so crushing this time.

Finally, his vision was…almost clear.

It was she who explained that he had collapsed and now was with Rains Fall’s people, as they were heading North to escape. The women that took care of him, Arthur caught glimpses of three different faces and though his headache was mostly gone, a persistent cloudiness lingered over his senses. Maybe it was because he sometimes seemed so confused or because he still lacked some control over when he fell asleep out of exhaustion, but when they talked to him, it was always very vague.

"Your friend will return soon. He's securing the perimeter, but he'll be back in a day or two", one of the women explained to him. They must mean Charles, he was certain. But when he wanted to ask, he found that it was hard forming words. His throat was parched and the attempt to speak yielded only a hoarse croak. A sympathetic smile from the woman conveyed understanding, at least.

….

You had sat at his side for four hours. It was late at night, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave his side. You had been running errands the last couple of days and had missed him waking up. Well, waking up without fever and therefore capable of forming thoughts. Tonight, he was restless, dreaming maybe.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes and grabbed your wrist. His hand was clammy, still remnants of his sickness and probably his latest nightmare, but this time – for the first time ever – he was fully awake.

"It's okay, I'm right here", you reassured him.

Arthur simply stared at you like you were a ghost. Then his eyes narrowed to one of his signature contemptuous stares. It was a terrifying expression that you had seen a couple of times before. His nose would scrunch in disdain and his facial muscles were coiled with tension – a sign of irritation. In a firefight, it marked the precipice of drawing his gun; in a brawl, it forewarned of the impending launch of his first punch.

"Yer real" Arthur stated, his assertion hung in the air. His voice was low and quiet. It sounded like he needed something to drink, something to oil up his throat that has dried up from weeks of not using it.

"Unfortunately so, yeah", you said. Your heart sped up. He was awake. Finally. After all those days of not knowing if he'd make it, he was okay. Far from fit or fully recovered, but he wasn't dying no more. The thought made your eyes wet and forget about Arthur's sceptical glance.

Arthur blinked slowly. Those weren't dreams. They never had been. You had been there all this time.

Arthur closed his eyes again without saying something. His hand slipped from your wrist and onto his chest. He didn't want to talk, no, he didn't even want to see you right now. A swell of emotions came over him and he wasn't sure how to feel about your presence. For his inner turmoil, he kept silent on the outside, giving you the impression that he had dozed off again.

Eventually, he really fell asleep. Though when he awoke and pled for water before even opening his eyes, it was you who led a bowl to his lips. Whenever he woke up, you would be there, ready to jump at his commands. You didn't speak about why you were here or where you had been. Nothing of that matter. Nothing about Dutch or Micah or little Jack. It was always just handing him water or soup or helping him change his clothes.

Two days later, Charles showed up with a warm: "Welcome back, brother." It was he who explained what had happened. That two Indians had found him unconscious, buried under his horse. That his leg had been bruised from the impact, and he was weak, feverish and on the brink of death. It was an intricate matter, caring for him while heading North with the tribe and he admitted that only after one day with him under their care, Charles had seriously considered staying behind and caring for him. It had slowed down the group that much. Then they ran into you, simply sitting on your horse and watching the caravan of people go, before catching Charles' eye.

Arthur remained conflicted when Charles broached the topic of you. This inner struggle was not lost on Charles, keen observer that he has always been.

"She took good care of you. Without her, your recovery might have been in doubt."

And as this didn't seem to do the trick, he added…

"She sat with you every night. Washed you, made sure you had everything you needed. Even though Rains Fall disagreed, she stole a waggon so you had a comfortable place to get better.”

“She had left, Charles…”, Arthur croaked. You leaving the gang behind had left him with mixed feelings. He had worked through them before and had arrived at the conclusion that it was better for you, and still…seeing you here, healthy and restless, he regretted not having you there at the end. You could have been of great assistance. Could have prevented Abigail from being taken or made John’s prison break easier. Hell, he might have had more fun killing the last of the O’Driscoll’s if you had been by his side. The prospect of your sudden absence when he might have required your presence left a bitter aftertaste in his mind.  

“Don’t blame her for that. She had no obligation to stay, she was only with us for little more than a month at this time and she could tell that it was coming to an end”, Charles said.

Arthur thought what might have happened if you had been there at the stand-off. The notion of having another ally by his side, countering the overpowering presence of Bill, Javier, Micah and his two traitorous cronies, weighed heavily on his mind Yet, this reverie crumbled upon realization – there was the cruel possibility that instead of Miss Grimshaw, you would have found your demise. Or considering your proclivity for action over passivity, you might have opened fire earlier and would have caused an even worse outcome. Yes, maybe your absence had been the better.

“She rode hours through rain to fetch you a doctor”, Charles went on as he saw Arthur’s thoughts wander, “She found a nice man with a waggon. The doctor said he knew you and that you helped him one time in Rhodes.”

That put a little smile on Arthur’s lips, because he remembered the Doctor well. He was talking all funny and had had his waggon stolen. “Yeah”, Arthur answered as a sign of recognition.

Even Charles didn’t know what more to say, so he put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, before he left him alone.

The group had settled down near a creek. You had been on the move for a while now, and food supplies were running low, so they had decided to camp here for a couple of days, until hunting and gathering had provided enough resources to continue the travel. It was then that Arthur left his little nest that had been made for him. A simple waggon really, with some linen span across it to shield him from the weather. Sitting up was exhausting, but he managed to more or less crawl to the opening, sitting there and letting his legs dangle from the waggon. Everyone was working. The horses were grazing, a couple of kids were running around. It wasn’t difficult to spot you, chopping some wood and carrying it to the fire. That’s when you caught Arthur’s eye and approached him.

Seeing him out of “bed” put a big smile on your face.

“Why even bother?”, Arthur asked when you had reached him, jumping up the waggon to sit next to him. “Should’ve shot me when they found me. Tuberculosis can’t be healed, as far as I’ve heard.”

“Tuberculosis? What are you talking about?”, you looked at Arthur curiously. He stared back in silence, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's what I've got", Arthur explained, a little sceptical as if your gaze alone had made him unsure of the diagnosis.

"You don't have tuberculosis. At least, the doctor we consulted said so", a smile played on your lips. A knowledgeable smile, as if you knew more than him. It was a cheeky smile.  

Arthur didn't believe you.

"Y/n, I was on the brink of death when you found me. I cough up more blood than I ever lost through bullets…taking a deep breath was almost impossible.”

"How's it now though? The breathing...", you asked.

Arthur halted and for the first time since he had regained consciousness, he drew in a deep breath. Then another, and another. It was slightly uncomfortable, as though something was constricting his lungs and made it harder for him to let air in, but it didn't hurt. It was only after the fourth big breath that a slight cough stirred from within. But it didn't ripple his airpipe, bringing red fluid onto his lips. It almost tickled. It reminded him of the sensation of pressing upon a spot where a bruise had once been, recently faded. It wouldn’t hurt, but it would tickle, and the skin would be terribly sensitive.

"It's...okay I guess", Arthur concluded.

You smiled, satisfied: "You don't have TB. I mean...maybe you do, but Doctor said if you had, it wouldn't have shown so soon and with such vigour. But he did say you had the worst case of pneumonia he had ever seen. We weren't sure you'd make it. But now that you have pulled through the worse", you shrugged, "I'm afraid you'll have to see my ugly face still."

Arthur didn't know what to say. Was he relieved? Happy, even? He didn't know. He was just speechless.

"Doctor said that in case you recover, you'll have to rest a lot. He knew you, by the way. Black fella with a nice-looking waggon. Weird grinder thing on top. Had to help him fix a wheel when I brought him up here. He said you had helped him some time ago, fighting the people who had stolen his waggon. And then he said you wouldn't be fighting anyone for a while, even when you are back on your feet. You need to rest for months, fresh air,...and especially, seeing that you have lost about half your weight, lots of good food. No smoking, of course."

Arthur’s chuckle rippled through the air as he started to grasp the situation. “That’s quite the relief”, he murmured, chuckled lightly as he finally started to grasp the whole situation: “That’s good news.”

“What? That you look like skin and bones?”, you teased, bumping your shoulder into his.

“No. That I’ll get to see your ugly face for some time longer”, he bumped back, stronger than you had and almost knocking you into the edge of the waggon. You hadn’t been so relieved for a long time. You felt something thick in your throat and tears gathered at the corners of your eyes.

“Missed ya, ya know”, you said quickly before a sob could work its way up.

“I missed ya too”, Arthur looked at you. He noticed the wet eyes and scrunched his nose immediately: “You gone soft while I was out? You crying ‘cause of me?”

The teasing tone alone was so friendly and welcome, it cheered you up even more.

“You ain’t worth crying over, Mr. Morgan”, you lied.

“Damn right I’m not”, he said. He let his eyes roam around the camp again. It felt familiar. The image or Horseshoe Overlook came to him, but this was different, of course. Or was it?

“You hungry?”, you asked.

“Starving. If ya can offer something else but soup”, Arthur quickly added. He only had eaten soup the last days. It was the only meal which didn’t require chewing and wouldn’t immediately choke him in his half-conscious state. This time, you brought him a small portion of stew. Not comparable to the stew Mr. Pearson had cooked. The small pieces of meat that you had granted him in his portion were as soft as they possibly could be, almost melting in his mouth.

“Slow down, god damn it”, you warned him.

“Yes, ma’am”, Arthur quietly mumbled. It was hard to slow down, but he knew he had to, since this was the first time he ate properly in – he later was being told – 13 days.

In the evening, you approached him again. Arthur was lying in his bed, half-recumbent with his journal on his lap. It was closed, Arthur was merely thinking. He had flipped through some entries before, but now he enjoyed being idle and watching everyone getting ready for the night.

“Arthur”, you knocked at the wood before appearing in his field of vision, “got something for you. I almost forgot, I had it stored away.”

You climbed on the waggon and put down a gunnysack. You carefully spilled its contents onto the floor. Arthur recognizes the round glass with the flower first. Then the picture of his mother. The picture of him and Mary. The shot of his father, though big chunks of the little picture were charcoaled and burnt, he only recognized it because he had looked at it so often. Two shirts, one pair of pants and an old belt that he hadn’t used in a while.

“That’s all that was really left, I’m afraid”, you said. He didn’t need to ask, he understood. You had gone back to where they had last camped and had rummaged through what was left after the fire to store it for him.

“Why did you…?”, Arthur started, picking up the picture of his mother.

“I…don’t know. I never had many belongings to my name, but those I had, meant much to me. Figured you feel the same”, you shrugged. Then a cheeky smile appeared on your lips: “Thought it would be nice to bury you with them if you didn’t make it.”

Arthur clicked his tongue. “It was stupid to go there. Might have been dangerous.”

“Felt worth it for me, I guess”, you said.

After a pause, Arthur thanked you. You wished him a good night at let him be. As soon as your frame vanished from the little field of view that the open canvas space granted him, he opened his journal again. He pulled out Mary’s last letter to him. Not reading the neatly written words again, he simply turned the envelope upside down, until the ring fell into his hand.

…

It took two more days before Arthur was strong enough to walk around and be on his feet for more than ten minutes at a time. But he felt fine enough to take a bath in the creek and shave. It was shocking to see his cheeks that have sunken quite a bit due to the weight loss, but Arthur’s appetite was as good as ever, so you didn’t worry about it too much.

Most of the day he spent by sitting in the shade and observing the people. Mostly you, if he was being honest. You played with the kids, helped wherever another hand was needed.

He was trying to get up from his little patch under a tree when Rains Fall approached him. Arthur hadn’t encountered him yet, he had been busy with arranging and managing the move. The last time Arthur had seen him, he had delivered him his dying son.

“How are you, Mr. Morgan?”, Rains Fall’s voice was as gentle as ever.

“Feeling much better now. I can’t thank you enough for taking me in”, Arthur said.

“After all you have done for us, it is I who must thank you”, Rain Falls smiled slightly. Silence ensued between the two men before Rains Fall spoke again, “I recall our conversation when you were my company on the ride up the mountain. You said that some people in your gang still had a chance for a good live and that you wanted to give them that.”

“Yeah”, Arthur said, his eyes fixed on you. You were brushing some horse in the distance.

“What’s with her?”, Rains Fall asked, following Arthur’s gaze, “I heard she took excellent care of you. Charles told me she’s a fierce spirit when cornered, but she seems tame and gentle. I can see that you care for her deeply too.”

“Suppose I do”, Arthur answered, “I’m not sure if that’s what she wants.”

“There are always some uncertainties in life, don’t waste too much thought on those that can be resolved with one simple question”, the chief answered. Arthur nodded, as if he understood, though he wasn’t so sure how much of the situation he had actually grasped. The ring that Arthur had picked out of the letter was in his pocket, and he felt it, when Rains Fall spoke those words. When nothing more was said on that matter, Rains Falls sighed: “Tomorrow, we’ll be on the move again. We haven’t covered much ground yet, but I’m certain we’ll make it.”

It was a statement that needed no comment and Arthur watched as the old man walked away.

-

The group barely covered ten miles a day. It was a good pace, nevertheless, for Arthur was on his feet again and tried to make himself useful. He tended to the horses, seeing they are well cared for and rested for the journey. All this time, you were pretty much at his side non-stop.

“You used to say ya don’t need me to do babysitting…but now yer the one watching me like I’m gonna do something stupid the second you lay your eyes off me”, Arthur teased.

“I don’t trust you to do no heavy lifting”, you said with a smile. It was a good opportunity to be close to him and help.

All of a sudden, you had started sleeping in the same waggon as he. Because the one you had used was “needed otherwise”. You sat next to him at night, watching him draw in his journal and often fell asleep way before him. Arthur was unsure if this was a sign that everything was like before, that you still liked him, but he was glad about the closeness again. The second night, he held you. The third night, you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest.

-

“I’m going to leave”, you said. You sat next to Arthur and watched his pencil strokes. They had been shading the horse he had just sketched. The pencil halted and Arthur looked at you.

“What?”

“Day after tomorrow, I’m leaving. I want to head south again. Then west, maybe”, you looked Arthur in the eye. His blue eyes which were warmly illuminated by the oil lamp in the waggon darted around your face. You weren’t teasing or joking, he could tell as much.

“You know I’m not someone who sticks with a group. If this thing goes bad, I’ll feel like I’m responsible”, you offered further explanation.

“Yer gonna head out there alone?”, Arthur asked, his voice strained.

“Was hoping you’d join me, actually”, you swallowed. You had dragged the question out for a while now. You knew that Arthur needed to be somewhat recovered if he was to travel with you, so you had had a good excuse for not asking for a long while. But the last couple of days the anxiety had been eating you from the inside.

Arthur didn’t answer. He watched you; you watched your own hands. As he remained silent, you unwillingly lifted your head to look at him. This was all that Arthur needed. His hand found your chin and lifted it even more, turning it towards him. In the blink of an eye, your lips met. Arthur tasted the tobacco on your lips and figured he missed smoking. Or at least, he missed sharing a cigarette with you.

“I thought you might not like me no more”, Arthur said as the kiss had ended. Both of your faces remained so close, your foreheads touched, and Arthur only needed to whisper the words to make you understand.

“Well, there’s always been lot of nonsense in your brain”, you grinned. You were relieved, because frankly, you had feared the same.

You kissed him again before asking: “Can I take that as a yes?”

“You better”, Arthur breathed, now snaking his hands around you and pulling you into yet another kiss.

III. The Life After

The parting with the Rains Fall and his people unfolded smoothly. Farewells were exchanged without any pressure of time and in good spirits. Charles and Arthur, in particular, enjoyed a more extended exchange of goodbyes compared to their previous parting. Both could go smiling, knowing that the other one would be fine.

Arthur got a spare horse, a young, not entirely tamed one, though Arthur was more than capable of handling it. Your travels back South progressed fast. It took a toll on Arthur, traveling on horseback after he had only been on his feet for a week, but you took care of that with long breaks and early nights. Sometimes, you’d rest for an entire day, also giving the horses some time to recover. You’d take care of food in a nearby town or go hunting, while Arthur watched the little possessions you travelled with. By the time you reached Ambarino, the leaves on the trees had assumed hues of red and brown and the nights were getting colder.

“Shouldn’t we head West?”, Arthur halted his horse. You had just crossed the Grizzlies and had travelled along the Dakota River for a while, before you stirred your horse East. The air was fresh, and Arthur was wrapped in a coat you had bought in a town before crossing the Grizzlies. The sun was still strong enough that the buttons could remain open, but sometimes a strong gush of wind would send a shiver through your spine and remind you that winter would be here soon.

“We can’t continue traveling”, you said. Arthur was exhausted, and so were you.

“So, what do you suggest?”, Arthur rode next to you, stirring his horse into a slow trod next to yours.

“I know a place where we can lay low for the winter”, you said, not explaining further, even though you felt Arthur’s curious gaze. Only when you arrived at O’Creagh’s Run later that day and headed so decidedly for Hamish Sinclair’s cabin, Arthur understood.

“That’s where you wanna live?”, he asked amusedly.

“Nice man lives there. I’m sure he’ll let us stay with him for a while”, you explained. Arthur smiled, but didn’t want to spoil that he knew the old veteran. Hamish was already outside doing repairs on his little boat when he saw you approach.

“Ain’t that a nice surprise!”, Hamish raised his arms, “A visit by two friends at once!”

Now it was your turn to be surprised: “You know each other?!”

“Of course. Arthur Morgan!”, Hamish shook the hand of Arthur as soon as he had dismounted, “You’ve lost some weight my friend, but you look as fine as ever.”

Over hot coffee, Hamish was filled in on the happenings of the last month. When you asked to stay at his place for a while, Hamish was delighted. Almost immediately, you started to build another bed, because it was agreed upon that Arthur would need something more comfortable to sleep on. You would be fine with the floor in front of the fireplace for now and Hamish would continue to sleep in his bed.

It worked remarkably well. The three of you were rather quiet and when something needed to be done, it was done sooner rather than later. Arthur fished most of the time, you were out hunting with Hamish. Hamish would teach you to cook some meals, because, as he put it “A man that has lived alone for such a long time, knows his cooking spoon”, and you’d run errands in town, if something needed to be fetched. The fall of the Van der Linde Gang was still comparably recent, so the posters were still all about and to risk Arthur being seen, wasn’t a risk anyone was willing to take.

As idyllic as most of the days passed, one would think that there weren’t any struggles or that you spent your days hunting and selling pelts. But you would have never been able to sell enough pelts to support three adults, so sometimes, you’d go out and rob a stage or some rich looking traveller. You told Arthur but kept quiet in front of Hamish.

The days became shorter and the chill of winter settled in, Arthur’s recovery progressed steadily. He started to put on some more weight and longer walks or chopping wood didn’t leave him struggling for air any longer. Hamish would sometimes go out for a whole day, granting the two of you precious moments of solitude and intimacy.

In December, Hamish announced he’d be gone for a few days, visiting a cousin in Valentine. He’d be back for Christmas Day, he promised. Arthur and you considered the possibility that Hamish’ cousin was a fabrication, a ruse to give the two of you some more time alone. Nevertheless, you appreciated the gesture wholeheartedly.

Snow had fallen and the fireplace had been ceaselessly crackling in the past few days. So, the hut remained comfortably warm. In Hamish’ absence, you shared Arthur’s bed. Nestled against his chest, you traced circles through the dark patch of hair just below his navel. The only sounds to be heard were the steady crackling of the fire and the hoot of an owl nestled in a nearby tree.

“Ya mean a lot to me, y/n”, Arthur’s words slipped out so unexpectedly that you sat up and looked at him with surprise and suspicion. You were well aware of his feelings. After all, he had demonstrated as much just half an hour ago, in that very bed.

“Yer talking strange”, you remarked and raised an eyebrow.

“I love you”, Arthur said, his tone carrying an unusual weight.

“And…I love you too”, you replied slowly. This wasn’t the first time you had said that to each other, but the manner in which Arthur said it felt different. Arthur gave you a look that was so full of uncertainty and self-depreciation for himself, you lightly slapped him on his bare shoulder.

“What is going on? Did I do something wrong?”, you asked. You even raised the blanket to check if this was a new sort of foreplay that he was trying because he was ready for the second round. It was also an attempt to lift the mood, because the tension of the situation started to prickle your skin.

“Ain’t nothing wrong. I just gotta ask ya something and it ain’t easy”, Arthur complained. sitting up straight.

“Yes. I’m sorry Arthur, but the Gingerbread you baked yesterday is inedible”, you joked. You and Arthur had tried to make some gingerbread yesterday and because you hadn’t felt like baking, he had taken control of the matter. The result was…lacking, to say the least. You had lied that it looked and tasted alright, but you had been sure that by the disgusted face you had made it was clear that it had to disappear before Hamish came back and threw them out for dishonouring his kitchen.

“That’s not it and…”, Arthur looked at you funny, “It wasn’t that bad.” You smiled at him sympathetically.

“I just…god damn it, woman”, Arthur rearranged his sitting position. The he got up and slipped into his pants and shirt. He was somewhat angry, irritated maybe. Or nervous? You watched him confused.

Arthur was still fastening his pants when his voice, low and hesitant, reached your ears: “I just wanted you to know that I love ya…”

You nodded as if it was silly to suggest otherwise. With Arthur’s warmth now absent from your side, your body was cooling down and you pulled the blanked further up. And then Arthur caught you completely off guard because he knelt down besides the bed. His fingers swiftly plunged into his pockets and retrieved a ring.

“I was wondering if ya might wanna marry me”, Arthur voice was firm. He didn’t want to give the impression that he was in any doubt that he wants to spend the rest of the time with you. He was fully aware that he wasn’t the youngest anymore and that the sickness had marked him significantly. Since recovering, he had gained back most of the weight, yet ther were times when his muscles reminded him of their limitations, failing him when he attempted tasks that were once effortless.

You stared at him in disbelief, a thousand thoughts running through your head. When Arthur opened his mouth again, you were afraid that you had taken too long to answer.

“I thought it was too late for me to marry someone. I’m old. And unlovable, mostly”, Arthur chuckled warmly, “If two people ain’t too big of a group for you…” Arthur added mumbling ‘maybe three or four at some point’ before continuing, “I’d want ya to know that I plan to stick with you. Yer still young, so I understand if yer don’t want to-“

“Yes.”

Arthur shut up at looked at you. Was that a yes to “not wanting to marry”? Arthur looked like a kicked puppy for a moment, before you cleared his confusion: “Yes, I want to marry you, you dumbass.”

The ring slipped on seamlessly. The Arthur picked you up, naked as you were and hugged you lovingly. You squealed because of the cold air.  

“Are we telling Hamish?”

Arthur mumbled the response into the crook of your neck which he was peppering with kisses: “If ya want. That enough of a Christmas present for him?”

You hit Arthur’s back: “Hell no! The man lets us live in his home. I was thinking about getting him a new rifle.”

Arthur set you down and you gathered your clothes, putting them on slowly, as Arthur was taking his time admiring you.

“Put some money back”, you grinned mischievously, “It was also meant for buying you a present. But I suppose that being my husband is good enough.”

“Oh you!”, Arthur growled and scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder. For all the strength he had lost, he was still strong enough to do that. Barefooted, Arthur stamped out of the cabin. “Give me one reason to not throw you into the lake!”, he teased and approached the jetty. It wasn’t frozen yet entirely, but the water was icy cold and black.

“I’m your wife!”

“Not yet you ain’t!”, Arthur made a motion that made you shriek, but he only feinted to throw you in, “besides, that is no valid reason.”

“I’ll kill you, if you do!”, now you tried to break free, but Arthur’s grip was firm.

“Ohh. That’s more like it. Though I think you love me too much for that.”

“Many wives kill their husbands!”, you screamed.

“I could drown ya first, ya know”, Arthur teased and swirled around, so you faced the black water.

“You’ll never find out where I stashed the money and won’t afford a present for Hamish!”, you finally said.

“That’s true”, with that, Arthur let you down. As soon as your bare feet touched the snow, you darted inside, shivering violently in front of the fireplace.

Arthur soon followed, having more of a quieter complexion. He closed the door behind him, and the warm and loving atmosphere of the cabin was restored. In many ways, Arthur saw you as an equal. You were just as good as a shot as he was, just as fast when it came to running or riding. There was no need to escape his old live, because you were an outlaw just like him. You didn’t mind if life meant running away from the law. He didn’t need to tread lightly with you. You could take criticism; a discussion or whatever life threw at you. And yet, he found your movements graceful, gentle. Most of the time, at least. Arthur smiled at the thought. When your opponent was a bigger man and it would come to close ranged fighting, you became sloppy and angry, but with a gun you were the definition of accuracy and grace.

“Hello?”, you looked at Arthur wit tilted head, drawing his attention back from his reverie, “Where have you wandered off to?” His daydreams had lasted so long, he had barely noticed that you had dressed yourself.

“Jus’ dreamin’ about my future wife, ‘s all”, Arthur grinned sheepishly. He extended his arms invitingly, and you moved closer, nestling into his embrace.  

“Don’t start expecting things I’m not capable”, you said.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know?! Maybe I want my husband to be capable of baking proper gingerbread for Christmas and then you come along and-“, Arthur interrupted you by poking you into the side and making you squeal.

“You do it better then!”, he challenged.

“I suppose I will!”, you grinned back, heading for the little stove, “I bet mine are at least two times more…edible than your sorry experiment.”

“What are we betting? A kiss, Mrs. Morgan?”, Arthur said slimily, his arms crossed and watching you. The name made you feel warm and happy. For all the times you’d been mistaken as a Bell, you like that name way more. But for old time’s sake, you turned around and looked at the man you love.

“Your life, Morgan!”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

taglist: @xclovers @photo1030 @cowboydisaster @stilinskiwitch @globetrotter28 @unbotheredbeeeee @eyelovie @ashjbu @lovrgirlsstuff @how-the-heck-would-i-know @j4llyf7sh @urfavjanalein @thatonestrangebird @nirvanaaaonly

[vxntagedior]

Can you do a mob!chris evans and like a flashback to how he and the reader officially met and their first few dates to the first kiss or the first time they get intimate (smut)?

firsts for everyone

summary | when agreeing on a date with a man you met, you never thought he'd be your boss but also one of the biggest mobsters in NYC

pairing | mob!chris evans x fem!reader

warning | fluff, mentions of violence, first kiss, first date, soft!chris

word count | 1.1k

The bar you worked in New York was right in the middle of the biggest companies in NYC. Though already having an internship with a Biotech company, needing another flow of income to come in to cover the bills for your apartment that was way too expensive for what it was.

You hated the people that came in, the place was mostly used for business meetings which meant that there were dozens of men who assumed that treating you like a piece of shit will make their day better. 

“Yo babycakes!” You sighed, closing your eyes, taking a deep breath, before walking to where the man was sitting at the bar. “C’mon now, I don’t got all day.”

“What can I get you sir?” You put on a fake smile, feeling uneasy as his eyes roamed your body.

“How ‘bout you.” You couldn’t believe that he thought that was something he could say.

“A drink?” You ignored him, wiping down the surface of the bar. Feeling a hand wrap around your wrist, you looked up to see the man, leaning over the bar to grab now. 

“Let me go.” You weren’t playing nice anymore, you knew that your boss wasn’t in, and you knew the minute you called for security, it’d be too late. Trying to pull away, his grip tightened, you felt his nails digging into your skin, knowing it was going to bruise later that night. 

“Lorenzo.” You heard a deep voice behind him. “She said let go.”

“Mr. Evans.” He said in fear, moving his icy hand from your hand, you rubbed your wrist, starting to gather some ice, not hearing the conversation the two men were having. Going into the room behind the bar, you missed the fight. 

“You will never touch her nor any woman like that ever again, you understand me.” Chris leaned down, crouching in front of him, while he laid on the ground, blood smeared all over his face when Chris punched him. 

Not hearing a response, Chris grabbed him by his collar, pulling him up to his face. “I said, do. You. Understand. Me?”

“Yes sir.” He rasped out, letting out a satisfied hum, he dropped the man back on the drop before going back into the bar. 

Hearing the knock on the door, you saw the man that defended you earlier.  

“Oh sir, customers aren’t supposed to be back here, I’ll be out in a moment.” You were panicking, first with the man and now the other in the back, you’d be grateful if you still held the job by the end of the night. 

Chris was shocked to find that you didn’t know he owned the bar. He just smiled softly before answering, “I’m sorry about that, I just came to check on you.”

The words ‘I’m sorry’ were foreign to Chris but he wouldn’t be lying to say he found you intriguing since he first saw you.

“It’s fine, I’m fine, I'm used to it by now.” You just shook your head, getting up and heading back out. The bar had now been emptied out, just leaving you and the unnamed man.

“I’m Chris.” He introduced himself. 

“Y/n.”

-

“You own E. Biotech!” You stared at him from across the table. After the incident in the bar, Chris offered you dinner for what had happened. You assumed that Chris had some money to his name but walking into one of the most luxurious restaurants in New York, you were shocked.

Chris just laughed at your expression. You were everything he had dreamed of, just falling harder and harder for you. 

“And the bar.” You muttered, “What else do you own in New York?”

“You really want me to answer that.” He smirked.

“No.” You giggled, your chin rested in your palm, looking over at Chris. You truly never had good luck at him, he was beautiful. Chris noticed how your gaze softened, setting down his fork and knife, reaching across the table to grab your hand.

“You're beautiful, you know that.” He whispered. Your eyes shifted down onto your plate, your body just freezing. “Oh come on, you must have to hear it all the time.”

You just simply squeezed his hand, looking back up to him, “Thank you.”

The rest of dinner went smoothly, both of you continuing to talk but you noticed how Chris had been trying to avoid a clear subject, seeing some holes in his stories when he talked. 

Though you couldn’t even afford it, you tried paying for the bill, ultimately being beaten by Chris who had his card down the second the two of you walked. 

“At least let me pay next time.” You smiled, the two of you walking down the streets of New York. Side by side, your hands laced together swinging in between the two of you, Chris’s jacket wrapped around your shoulders to keep you warm.

“Sure.” Chris just smiled, letting you guide him back to your apartment. Though he had a car waiting, you were the one adamant on walking home and Chris wouldn’t let you leave alone. 

Chris wanted this to continue, he wanted to take you out on dates, he wanted to be with you, longing for a relationship, knowing how hard it was with his profession. 

Knowing that you were safe and well protected with him made it better for him when the two of you finally were officially together. 

Your voice had pulled him from your thoughts, looking up, standing in front of what he thinks is your apartment building. 

“This is me.” You said softly, not wanting the night to end. “Thank you for walking me, you really didn’t have too.”

“It’s okay, I wanted to.” He smiled. Chris stood at the bottom of the steps before you stood two above him, almost matching his height. 

“Your jacket.” You said realization, starting to pull it off, before Chris covered his hand over yours.

“Keep it.” Chris insisted, “I’ll take you back on our next date.”

“Another date.” You smirked. 

“You offered the idea first.” He quipped. 

Silence covered the two of you, Chris still holding onto your hand. The elephant in the room was clear as day since the restaurant and you were the one bold enough to say anything. 

“I really want to kiss you.” You blurted. 

Chris just smiled, dropping your hand, bringing it to cradle your cheek and jaw. Leaning down towards you, you reached out for the rest of the way, pulling his lips on yours. 

They were softer than you imagined, and his beard felt wonderful against your skin. Smiling into it, your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him in closer. 

Gasping for air, Chris pulled away first reluctantly, pressing a peck before fully parting. 

Starstruck, you couldn’t even speak, but remembering where you were. 

“Thank you for tonight.” You whispered, “I hope we can do this again soon.”

“I don’t think I could ever go without seeing you again.”

fin.

[malarkgirlypop]

BoB dance moves while drunk

inspired by that one post of how they would act when drunk from @contrabandhothead

Dick Winters:

Is a sucker for a slow dance, tries to wrangle anyone onto the dance floor with him but mostly Nix who doesn't like slow dancing. Is very huggy and will whisper unintelligible things in your ear while dancing. Will give you that very drunk I love you smile when he pulls away.

Lewis Nixon:

Does not dance, will not dance. But can sometimes be convinced by Dick if he is drunk enough. Rather would sing loudly while sitting down.

Ronald Speirs:

When very intoxicated will boogie, he is the one who will just stand in the middle of the dance floor and jump up and down. While trying to sing the song but he doesn't know the lyrics so he drunkenly sings nonsense at you. Goes from one group to the next. If dancing in a circle he will jump in the middle and bust a move before disappearing. Lip will sometimes have to wrangle him away from people cause he is interfering with their night.

Carwood Lipton:

Is a shy dancer will tap his foot and bob his head to the beat, but spends most of the night trying to contain the very excitable Ron, who is a loose unit on the floor if not supervised. Is always excusing himself to go and get Ron.

Harry Welsh:

Is too drunk to stand, but he can party lying down! Wants to dance with Kitty but can't find her. Would probably pull out moves such as the sprinkler and pushing the trolley.

George Luz:

Does the most bizarre moves you have ever seen. Has his own style called the George. Will spin you round and then need to sit down immediately cause he is going to throw up. Back out onto the floor once he has recovered, him and Ron together are a fucking nightmare, as they harasses innocent bystanders to dance with them. Will high-five you if you get too close, but does the fakeout of "High-five, dolphin dive."

Joe Toye:

Is the best dancer when drunk, like professionally good, but will only dance if very inebriated. Likes to people watch and laugh at the chaos that is George. Will lean and drink and shoo Luz away when he asks him to go and dance. Saying "I will when I finish this drink." But then orders another one so that he can use the same line.

Bill Guarnere:

Dance fights! "you want a piece of me?" then does very complicated footwork. Light on his feet. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. Aggressive dance moves when drunk, will shake you with force if he gets a hold of you. Sings loudly as he dances. Always has the best night.

Joe Liebgott:

Crumps aggressively, somehow is very good a twerking. Knows how to pop that puss. Does that dance move when you hold your leg up and then have the other hand on your head and jump around (idk how to explain this move, but I see it in my head). Will try and incite a dance battle. Always the centre of attention. Likes it that way.

David Webster:

Dances like a basic white girl. Feeling himself up. Is a very weirdly sensual dancer. Kinda gets him going. Will say this is my favourite song to every basic pop song that comes on. Still doesn't know the words though.

Buck Compton:

Will aggressively do the hoe down throw down and somehow has whole choreographed dances to the songs. You will never see him do the same move twice. By the end of the night he has taken off all of his clothes and is drenched in sweat.

Eugene Roe:

Is a modest dancer. Will just nod along while lip-sinking. Will have a confused face on but when people ask him if he is ok just grins at them nodding. Is always looking for Babe.

Babe Heffron:

Manages to integrate himself into a group of people he isn't with for the night, teaches them his signature move that is the dougie. Will pester the person playing the music for the song that goes with the dance so that he can do it all for them. Normally gets his way and does the whole dougie in the middle of the dance circle while people cheer him on. He eats it up every time and brags about it later.

Skip Muck:

Does classic dance moves with Alex. Likes to dance with another person so he has a buddy to shimmey into and then shimmey back. Will do spins with Alex and always does it way too aggressively and sends Alex flying across the floor to crash into people like a bowling ball.

Alex Penkala:

The most clumsy dancer when drunk. Will fall over nothing, Skip does not help either, somehow always managing to push over his friend by accident. Alex is like a fucking bouncy ball and is up on his feet in seconds. Will wake up the next day covered in bruises and is unsure of how he got them.

Donald Malarkey:

Gains the confidence of a professional dancer and believes it, but is totally not. Will totally do that thing where you move your chest up and down and get people to move their hands over him to make it look cool. Likes the song get low, as he likes the part where it goes low, low, low, low so he can do his matrix back bend. Get's worse the more he gets drunk.

Frank Perconte:

Is a fucking B-boy and will break it down, somehow can do head stands and that thing where you spin around on your head, and that one move where you are lying on the ground and push yourself to your feet.

Johnny Martin:

Is a fucking wild card. Some nights he will chill and then others he is breaking it down on the dance floor. It mostly depends on the liquor he is drinking, if it's spirits you're in for a crazy night.

Bull Randleman:

Will line dance to any song, you can't tell him other wise. Does that lasso move to Perconte and lasso's him onto the dance floor, Frank loves it. Will do Gangnam style if drunk enough and will tell you every time his favourite part is the move where you look like you are riding a horse.

[yanderestarangel]

☆Yandere Adler russell x reader☆ Concept - friends with benefits<3

Tw: Yandere themes, adult content, abusive relationship, profanity, mention of sex and dark relationship, age gap.

Adler didn't like the idea at first, let's face it, Russell is a man considered "straight" by standards. Meaning he still likes to keep labels, he really wants to know what the two of you are about not just some vague or some modern aspect.

But he accepts it for you, he's both in love and lost in his sick, messed up thoughts.

(Besides the midlife crisis lol)

The two of you start hanging out more than you used to, Adler always shows you off to everyone with pride, but you notice little red flags in this, like, Russell being extremely jealous to see you talking very nice to someone else or him lying about what you two are.

"- Are you dating now?" Asks Park, smiling amusedly, drinking a shot of vodka while the background music from the bar continued at the same pace. "- Yes"- Russell replies grabbing you and smiling looking at your face, soon seeing you walk away from him smiling at the woman and saying a "-No." After vaguely explaining the two of you's relationship, you could have sworn you saw Adler's facade darkly shift as he slammed the glass a little too hard on the table in front of him. Episodes like this weren't all that rare, Adler started off mildly, saying that he accepted just being "friends with benefits."

You at first thought it was just good sex and pampering or expensive dinners and the man's company being pleasant, but that all started to change when Adler became more possessive.

You tried to ignore it, he was a gentleman, he offered you his warm leather jacket when it was cold.

He always paid the restaurant bill even if you said he didn't have to.

He would give you gifts that you had vaguely mentioned or that he himself saw you looking at.

He took you to the best parties he could, even though he didn't like most of them, he loved seeing you happy watching that show you wanted so much.

Or when he offered to take you on a not so dangerous mission in a country you always wanted to visit.

You knew the shit Adler did, but it was none of your business.

Many times when it was a very dangerous mission he always warned you in two ways:

1- left a message on your cell phone, something like: "Hey my beautiful thing, I need to do something today, I'm going to another country, I don't know when I'll be back but I promise to try to bring you a present, take care and stay well please ." or a phone call well before you go.

2- He would go an hour before going to your house, most of the time it was at dawn, and he would honk at your door or he himself would enter your house waking you up and saying sweetly that he needed to go, but he would come back for you.

He made you the happiest person in the world. But it didn't take away some fights you had.

Most happened because of jealousy and possession, Russell would ask passively but aggressively, who was the guy you talked so much on the phone, you said smiling a little too brightly that it was a colleague, someone younger than him but older than you.

He would look over your conversations without you even knowing and any flirting he would explode. He won't scream or hit you, Russell prefers to get your psychological.

He will ignore you and make you feel guilty or lampoon you for talking to someone else so intimately.

If you just say you're sorry and stop talking to the guy he'll hug you sweetly telling you that's all you need.

If you affront him and tell him the two of you just fuck and hook up sometimes he'll really explode, it'll be the first and only time you'll ever see Russell mad.

He will point a finger in your face telling you how much he loved you and how anyone wouldn't treat him the way he does and would just fuck you up and throw you away.

That would create a fight between you and Mason or Woods would have to be between the two of you, mostly holding Adler and trying to calm his friend down.

They'd send you away saying you were up to no good and you'd leave Adler high for hours.

Adler would go after his "colleague" but he wouldn't kill him, no no Y/N, he would threaten him and tell him to exclude you from every network of contacts possible and that if he even smelled him he would be a dead man.

Well, he really pulled away from you. After a while you and Adler would start talking again, he would apologize to you for being so selfish and would try to manipulate you into being with him again... What would work.

He would also manipulate your emotions, leading you to believe he was the best you could ever have, a powerful man and all your own.

Yandere Russell gets worse after you make a relationship with him official, taking away everything.

Freedom and autonomy. You would live with him in a nice house and be what you were born to be... Privately owned by Adler Russell, America's monster<3