#but yeah once the lease ends no matter if shes gotten better or not I dont want to stay

[tvdfan23]

She apologized 🙃

[piratefalls]

happy saturday! anyone else absolutely frothing at the mouth over that 5x17 synopsis?

masterlist. shoot me a request if you want!

help me piece it all together, darling by probieravi

He pulls himself from Christopher’s doorway and pads into the kitchen. Buck knows that sleep will evade him, because the exhaustion he felt when he left the station after they got back from the scene of the accident left him as soon as he got home. Something vibrates under his skin, buzzing next to the blood in his veins.

He can’t sleep, but he can cook.

(or, buck spends the day with the diazes.)

sun is coming up ahead by markofalover

One piece of paper slides towards him. Eddie stops it with his hand, lips tilting when he sees one of Christopher’s famous cat drawings surrounded by hearts.

I love you, Dad. You are doing so good and you’re so brave. We will always be here for you no matter what. Like you said, you will feel better soon. You are my hero.

…or, the drawings keep coming.

if i told my secrets (if you knew the truth) by withoutthetiger

"He’d once reminded Chim that tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone, and while the past couple of years have only proven him correct time and time again, Eddie’s spent a lifetime running from his own good advice, and he’s barely learned how to slow down long enough for it to catch up to him now. And arguing with Frank about it – Chim and Maddie were actually dating, Buck and I are very much not – had only earned him a tired stare in response, one lasting long enough for Eddie to admit that his heart hadn’t bothered with that same distinction.

So, yeah, he knows he’d been right to encourage Chim then, and thinks maybe Frank’s right to do the same for Eddie now, but however much progress he’s made in the past several weeks of therapy, whatever trauma he’s begun to untangle, being honest with Buck about this might be the only thing more overwhelming than being honest with himself."

***

When Eddie tells Buck how he feels, it's only the beginning, both of them having work to do before they're finally ready for happily ever after. Still, they're never very far apart while they wait. Set at the end of (shortly after?) 5b.

the way you move is like a full-on rainstorm by hammersmiths

Bobby is oblivious. “What’s the damage?”

“Not much, cap,” says Buck. He has a smear of soot across his forehead, which if anything makes his blue eyes even bluer. May has long since gotten over her dumb girly crush on him, and of course she now has Darius, but she can’t deny how good-looking he is. Next to him, Eddie rests his helmet against his hip, pushing the hair off his forehead, and someone actually sighs.

“He’s so hot,” May hears her whisper to a friend.

If only you knew, May thinks amusedly.

or, May Grant’s school gets a visit from the 118.

texts from dispatch by lilythesilly

eddie: ok so this woman just tried to have her sister arrested because she set foot on her property while she’s trying to file a restraining order because apparently her sister slept with her ex-boyfriend hen: what telenovela is this? eddie: no that was the call i just took eddie: athena said they couldn’t do it because apparently the sister is on the lease because they’re roommates chim: PLOT TWIST

your sweet love by elless

Buck and Eddie thoroughly enjoy having a hotel suite to themselves.

by act of grace by hattalove

“Oh,” Greg says, his face falling, “that’s Lucifer.”

Buck lets out something between a laugh and a cough.

“Lucifer,” he repeats.

“It's a long story,” Greg says, tugging on the collar of his polo, his name tag clinking. “He's—not exactly well socialized, and he really, really hates—“ he starts, except he’s interrupted by Eddie’s voice, the first words Buck has heard him say since they dropped Chris off at Hen and Karen's.

“Hi,” Eddie says, crouching right under the bright red sign – which, now that Buck’s close enough to read it, says DO NOT PET – and reaching his fingers toward the bars.

“—men,” Greg finishes, his voice weak, frozen mid-step like he’s not sure if he should be hauling Eddie away while there’s still time. “He hates men. Usually.”

or the one in which healing looks a little like ten pounds of dog with a mean streak.

When it Started by DoneInLove

If anyone would ask Buck, he might say it all started the day Eddie’s not-so-ex-wife up at the firehouse to confront him.

If Carla caught Buck at the right moment, he’d probably admit that it actually started the day Eddie ended up bringing Christopher to the firehouse.

If Hen ever asked him, with that look in her eye that Buck could never give a name to, he would likely agree that it started getting a little out of hand for him the night he and Eddie took Christopher to see Santa.

If Maddie were to push him on the matter, he’d have to admit that it really started to click for him the night she called him out on it.

When Eddie asked him when it all started, Buck had to be honest with himself.

freedom is mine (and i know how i feel) by lecornergirl

“Frank said I should try and find things that make me feel alive,” he tells Buck.

Buck looks at him head-on. “And?” he asks. “What makes you feel alive?”

“A lot of things, as it turns out,” Eddie says. “But—mostly you.”

hold on, let go by kitkatpancakestack

“You love each other,” his therapist had told him, “That will be enough.” He never asked her the thing picking at the back of his mind: what do they do if it isn’t? He should have asked. He always runs away from the hard questions. * in the aftermath of his breakup with Eddie, Buck explores the repercussions of holding on and letting go.

soft and slow, watch the minutes go (count out loud) by hopeintheashes

Cradling Someone in Their Arms (somewhere after 5x14)

buck doesn’t cook anymore. bobby’s noticed. by eddie_diass

what it says in the title xx

if you saw this on tumblr, i added another 1.5k words so now it's not just angst but hopefully a little comfort

father x son bonding time while cooking a casserole <3

all we can do by catching_paper_moons

Buck holds an arm out, and Christopher takes it, stepping toward him. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Can’t.” Christopher sighs heavily, and Buck pulls him close, and Christopher clings to him, like he’s done so many times before. “Is Dad…is he asleep? He’s okay?”

“He’s not hurt,” Buck settles on. “Not physically.”

(or, the aftermath of the breakdown.)

whatever i lose is put back by you by farfromthstars

The night of Eddie’s breakdown, Buck stays to pick up the metaphorical and literal pieces. The literal ones are cleared away relatively quickly – with the exception of the holes in the plaster wall that they’re gonna have to patch up later – but the metaphorical ones take longer.

~

Buck steps inside with Eddie.

My sense of wonder's just a little tired by Mellaithwen

Spoilers for 5x13 Fear-O-Phobia

“You stayed,” is all Eddie says a little dumbly, a little in awe, and Buck’s quiet soft rambling comes to a sudden stop.

“Yeah, I was just—” he starts to explain about the mail again, gesturing to the door, when he seems to get the gist of what Eddie’s really saying, and his shoulders slump down a little then with a release of tension; “Eddie, of course I stayed.”

Of course.

Of course, because his son called him. Christopher called Buck, and Buck came running. Buck busted down the door. Buck got Eddie on his feet. He got Christopher settled, and reassured, and then he led Eddie out of the rubble of his room and over to the dining table.

.

The morning after the night before, Eddie wakes up to a new day.

Life Is Just The Way You Hold Me by allyasavedtheday

The combination of recently moving house, finally truly living as a single parent – who hasn’t managed to set up appropriate childcare yet – and beginning a new job as a firefighter has meant the walls he’s so steadfastly built up around himself to hold himself together since he first came home are starting to crumble.

And of course, because the universe is always looking for new ways to fuck with Eddie, all of this stress and anxiety has decided to take the form of the worst possible symptom a single father who works 24 hour shifts could experience:

Insomnia.

It’s past 3am and Eddie is scrolling mindlessly on his phone when he first stumbles across the ad.

Some people, when they go online shopping at night, buy things they don’t need. Like a Fitbit or a novelty t-shirt.

Eddie…

Eddie buys a professional cuddler.

*

Eddie needs a hug and some sleep. Buck, quite literally, offers his services.

[sunmoonandeddie]

marriage story

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5,641

summary: Fake marrying Bucky was only supposed to be a means to an end.

prompt: college au, fake marriage au, and enemies to lovers

warnings: swearing, talk of past sexual abuse

a/n: This was written for @broadwayandnetflix​ for @bucky-smiles​‘s Secret Santa!  SURPRISE!!!!  I’m so sorry I’m a day late, I just wanted to make sure it was as good as I could make it!!  I really hope you enjoy!!!

You weren’t sure how you ended up staring at divorce papers.

Hell, you’d just graduated college three weeks ago and had miraculously landed your first job that was conducive to your career.

And now, you were a divorcée at the age of twenty-one.

Granted, your marriage had lasted much longer than a lot of those that happened when the two people were teenagers.

It had also been fake, but that’s beside the point.

You read over the divorce papers for the eightieth time since they’d arrived.  Both of you took your individual things, no need for lawyers…

It had all seemed so simple when it first began.  A means to an end.

You were eighteen and stupid.  Desperate.  You had no idea what the consequences would be.

You had no idea that you’d actually fall in love with your husband.

He’d needed to live off campus since he couldn’t afford the on campus housing.  At a minimum of seven thousand dollars a school year, it was ridiculous.  You couldn’t really afford it either, but the school had a rule that you couldn’t live off campus until your junior year, and the two of you were still second semester freshmen.

Then there was the issue with your FAFSA.  You weren’t exactly on good terms with your parents.  And by not on good terms, you meant that you didn’t speak to them.  At all.  Getting their tax information wasn’t going to happen, and it wasn’t like they were helping you pay for college.

But FAFSA wouldn’t let you fill it out as an independent student until you were twenty-one.  Apparently, being cut off from your parents wasn’t enough of a ‘special circumstance’ to allow it.

But, there was one little thing that could fix all that.

Matrimony.

If you were married, you’d have to file independently.  No questions asked about parents.

And the university would allow you to live off campus, too.

It was a perfect solution.  A quick little trip to the courthouse.

Living together had seemed logical.  A little two bedroom apartment was much cheaper than seven thousand dollars for nine months in a dorm room you had to share.

Plus, you had to keep up the illusion to the school and the government that you were married.

Outside of living together though, there wasn’t much needed.  Each of you wore a fake ring when you went to your meetings with your advisor and your classes.  It kept the rabid frat boys away from you, at least.

And then there were the scholarships.  Turns out, there are scholarships specifically for married college kids, and your advisor thought you were just perfect for it because she’d never met such a wonderful couple.

It was all perfect.  Until it wasn’t.

First off, you and Bucky didn’t even really like each other when all of this started.  You only knew each other because you were best friends with Natasha, who was his best friend’s girlfriend.  It had actually been the two of them that had gotten the idea in the first place.

“So, I’m sure you’re wondering why we gathered you here today,” Steve said, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Steve, this is my room.”

This was not how you wanted to spend your Saturday night.  You’d worked a double that day, from eight in the morning to ten that night.

The perks of working at a bar that did Mimosa Mornings on the weekends.  The worst part was that you weren’t even allowed to take a shot or two to help you get through it since you were eighteen.

Stupid fucking law.  If you could work in a bar, you should be able to drink to deal with the customers.  Because fuck, they’re horrible.

But you made more than you’d be making at Buffalo Wild Wings, that’s for sure.

“Can we just get whatever this is over with?” Bucky asked from across the room.  He definitely wasn’t keen to be stuck in a room with you for any longer than necessary.  “I have work in the morning.”

“Same here,” you added, narrowing your eyes at the two who sat in front of you.

Natasha was your best friend and your roommate, but fuck were you ready to put out a ‘New Friends Wanted’ sign.  You could take applications.

Requirement number one: Must not be dating the best friend of the most annoying prick in the world AKA Bucky Barnes.

Requirement number two: Must not be waiting to ambush you in your own dorm room with said prick.

“So, both of you are having issues with the university,” Nat said as she took out a bunch of papers.  “The dorms are crazy expensive and you’re not allowed to live off campus.  Also, FAFSA is ridiculous.”

“And we have a solution,” Steve said, a grin on his face.  He was such a giver.  He loved his friends more than anything in the world and would literally give anything for them.  Seriously.  You’d once watched him actually give the shirt off his back to Bucky when the latter had gotten drunk at a party and puked all over his.

He’d also gotten it on your shoes, and Bucky had just burped and said, “They look better now.”

The disgusting asshole.

“Well, spit it out,” you said, rubbing your temples.  You were still in your uniform, a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top.  Your hair smelled like cigarette smoke and someone’s beer that they spilled on you.  “I’d like to go to sleep before sunrise, please.”

“You two could get married.”

Both you and Bucky stared at them like they’d grown two heads.

“I’m sorry…  What the fuck did you just say?” You asked, standing up.

Natasha rushed to continue, still grinning.  “If you two get married, the university will let you live off campus, and FAFSA will let you file as independent!”

“And it’s cheap!  A marriage license only costs like… fifty bucks?  Something like that!” Steve said.

Well…  It wasn’t… a horrible idea, even if you and Bucky might end up killing each other before then.

“I don’t know...,” you said, the whole idea making you nervous.  Marriage?  Come on.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest defensively.  “I really don’t want to be married to her.  We’d kill each other before we hit our six month anniversary,” he mocked, shooting a glare your way.

“It would only be until you graduate!” Natasha said.  “And then, you two get divorced and it becomes a funny story to tell at parties!”

You shared a look across the room with the brunette.  It would solve your problems…

“Fine.”

Turns out, getting married was a lot easier than you thought it would be.  All four of you went to the courthouse that next Tuesday when all of you had a break in between classes.

You wore a sweatshirt and leggings, your ratty sneakers that were covered in mud along the bottom.  Bucky wore jeans and a university hoodie.

Not exactly usual wedding attire.

Natasha, ever the optimist ever since she met Steve, had shoved a daisy she’d picked in your hair.

And an hour later, you’d walked out as Mrs. Barnes.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stood up from the couch and walked around the little place you’d called home since you were eighteen.

It had been quiet the first few months.  You signed a lease on an apartment a few blocks from campus and had moved in right at the end of the school year, but he went home with Steve to Brooklyn, New York.

You were alone the entire summer except for the few weekends that Natasha managed to come visit.  The only time you and Bucky spoke was when he texted you to let you know when he was moving in.

And that’s when the fighting had started.

As you stared at a picture of the two of you on the wall, you couldn’t help but laugh.  In the photo, you two were sitting on the couch, holding a cake that Natasha and Steve had gotten you as a joke.  HAPPY 2ND ANNIVERSARY! was written across it in bright blue icing.

It was a far cry from when you two had first moved in.  Everything was an issue.  You didn’t do this, he did that, the both of you wanted to watch different movies and he had brought the television but you’d brought the DVD player.  Everything.  Hell, you’d sleep on the bean bag in Natasha’s dorm some nights because even being in the same apartment as him was too much.

Eventually, there was compromise.  An understanding grew between you and with that, a truce.  You couldn’t keep living like you were.

You were pretty sure the war had finally, silently ended one late night in October.  It was the weekend before Halloween, and you’d had the worst shift of your life.

Your keys clanged as you unlocked the front door, trying to open it as quietly as possible.  Even from where you stood, you could see the clock above the stove that read 1:42 AM.  You were supposed to be off at ten, but that clearly hadn’t happened.  One of the other girls working had gotten sick and you were forced to cover the few hours she was supposed to work alone until close.

And to add onto that, you made less the entire weekend than you had last Friday night.  You’d been hit on, groped, yelled at.  Fuck.  You just wanted to collapse in your bed.

“You’re home late.”

“Fuck!” You jumped in shock, your heart pounding in your chest.  God.  Your anxiety had just spiked and the exhaustion you’d been feeling was replaced with your fight or flight instinct.

Bucky was standing in the hallway entrance, brows furrowed.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”  He had on those gray sweats that he looked so good in…

No!  Down girl!  Bad!

It didn’t matter that he was hot.  He was a total dick.

Though, lately he’d be rather kind.  Nice.  There’d been less fights in the past few weeks.

You cleared your throat, looking away from him.  “Yeah, Wanda got sick, so I had to close.”

“There’s dinner in the microwave,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Oh.  Thank you.”

He nodded, before disappearing down the hall.  It surprised you when you heard the bath start, but whatever.  Whether or not he took baths was none of your business.

You were surprised to find a huge bowl of vegetable soup in the microwave.  Huh.  You’d just been talking to Natasha about how much you missed your mom’s homemade version.

Whatever.  It wasn’t like you’d ever be having that again.

You let your head rest on the counter as you waited for the soup to heat up.  Fuck.  Your entire body ached.

“Hey, do you want epsom salt?” Bucky called out from the bathroom.

“Uh, what?” You said as you raised your head.  Even just moving that little made your head pound.

He poked his head out of the doorway, his long hair pulled back in a bun.  “For your bath?  Do you want epsom salt?”

“My bath?  What the hell are you talking about?” You asked as the microwave beeped.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe.  “The bath that I’m currently running you.  Do.  You.  Want.  Epsom.  Salts?”

There was a long pause as the two of you stared at each other.  “Yeah,” you said finally, your voice coming out a lot smaller than you expected.  “That would be nice.”

Once he’d disappeared back into the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and texted Nat.

To: Tasha

Why is Barnes acting weird?

From: Tasha

Which one of you?

Get it?

Cause you’re married?

To: Tasha

Yeah

I got it.

But he’s being fucking weird.

From: Tasha

How so?

To: Tasha

He made me dinner?  At least, he poured vegetable soup from a can into a bowl and left it in the microwave.

Oh

And he’s running me a bath???

V V strange.

If I don’t text you tomorrow

It’s probably because he killed me

From: Tasha

Oh that

To: Tasha

What do you mean

“Oh that”????

NATASHA

ANSWER YOUR PHONE

From: Tasha

Sorry, was talking to Steve

He mentioned you’d been working a lot and how tired you were so I told him he should do something nice.

And I may have told him that you missed your mom’s vegetable soup.

So that probably explains that.

“Hey, it’s ready,” Bucky said as he came into the kitchen.  “I’ve got some towels in the dryer going, so they’ll be all warm when you’re ready to get out.”  He seemed so… laissez-faire about it.  Like you two didn’t fight on a daily basis usually.  He watched as you took a bite of the soup, his blue eyes zeroed in on you.  “Do you like it?” He asked.  “I tried following my ma’s recipe.  Don’t know how well it went.”

You couldn’t help but moan around the spoon as the warm soup went down.  Even reheated, it was amazing.  “This is your mom’s recipe?  It’s amazing.”

His cheeks flushed as he tried to hide a grin.  “Thanks.  I’ve missed her cooking.”

It was silent as you finished up the soup, the only sound being the spoon clanging against the bowl.  It wasn’t until you set your dishes in the sink to wash the next day that he spoke again.

“Oh, I got you this,” he said as he pulled out a box.  “I saw my advisor and he knows that we’re married and he mentioned that we still don’t have rings, so I just went and grabbed a ring from a thrift store.”

It was then that you noticed the simple silver band on his left ring finger, glinting in the low light.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said as you took the box.  But your breath was stolen from your lungs as you opened it, revealing a gorgeous diamond engagement ring with a matching diamond wedding band.  “It’s…  It’s beautiful…  Thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Uh, you go ahead and get in the bath.  I’ll bring you the towels when they’re done.”

As you sat in the bath, you couldn’t help but stare at the rings that now resided on your left hand.  They glinted in the low light of the candles that had been placed in various places around the bathroom, most likely lit with Bucky’s lighter from the local smoke shop.

They were absolutely stunning.

Maybe… just maybe… this marriage wouldn’t be as bad as you first thought it would be.

You glanced over at the table as your phone buzzed, running to it.  Maybe it’s Bucky…

But your hope was dashed as you realized it was Natasha calling you.

You hadn’t realized you’d been crying until a drop of water fell on the screen.  Wiping your eyes, you brought it up to your ear.  “Hey, Tasha!  What’s up?”  You couldn’t help but wince.  You sounded like a fucking real estate agent.  Perfect and peppy and… not you.

“Hey, I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing,” she whispered, as though she was trying to keep someone else from hearing.  “Bucky got the divorce papers today and I figured that meant you did, too.”

Ah, another thing.  He’d been staying at Steve and Natasha’s place since all of you had graduated, and the time had come for the divorce.  He’d gotten all of his things out within two days, except for the hoodie you were currently cocooned in and your wedding rings.

“I know how much you love this place,” he’d said with a wry smile.  “So you can have it in the divorce settlement.”

It had been a joke.  The divorce settlement.  Like you two had actually been in love and things just hadn’t worked out.

“You aren’t gonna change the Netflix password on me, right?” You asked as you stood in the doorway of Bucky’s room, arms crossed over your chest.  “Because I’m still paying for half of it.”

Buck grinned at you as he taped the last box shut.  “I don’t know…  Might change it up on you.  Have it all to myself.  Then my suggested movies and shows won’t be so fucked up,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, glaring at him.  But there was no heat behind it.  “We have separate profiles on there, you dumbass.  So if Gossip Girl is on your suggested, that’s your fault.”

The laugh that erupted from his mouth made him throw his head back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Seeing Bucky Barnes laugh was one of the Seven Wonders of the World.  It was better than the Great Pyramids of Giza, the Taj Mahal, and the Great Wall of China all rolled into one.

“We’re still gonna have Thursday night movies, right?” You asked, trying to ignore the way your voice cracked.

In the three years since you’d gotten married, Thursday night had become your sort of fake Date Night.  You two would order takeout and watch movies until the both of you passed out of the couch.  You both changed your availability at your jobs to let them know that you couldn’t work Thursdays.  Not even Natasha and Steve were allowed to intrude.  It was just your special night to hang out.

“I’ll bring the food.  Do you want Thai or Mexican?” He asked, his features a little softer.

“I’ll text you what I want,” you said.  Biting your lip, you toyed with the rings on your left hand.  “I guess I should give you these back, huh?”  You started to slip them off, but he stopped you.

“They’re yours,” he said, his hand closing over yours.  His blue eyes shimmered in the light as you swallowed.  “Keep them… as a reminder of your former husband.”  The corner of his mouth twitched, but you couldn’t tell if he was going to smile or frown.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you said, suddenly surging forward to hug him.  “Even though you’re super annoying.”

Bucky laughed as he wrapped his arms around you just as tight.  “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

“How’s he doing?” You asked as you moved to what had formerly been Bucky’s room.  It was now completely bare, except for a single gum wrapper on the floor.  You sank down against the wall as you stared at it.  Extra wintermint gum.  Because he absolutely hated spearmint.

“About as well as you, I imagine,” she said slowly, choosing her words ever so carefully.  “I don’t know.  He went out for a walk a few minutes ago.  But he locked himself in the guest room for hours after getting the papers.”

You let your head fall back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to stop another onslaught of tears.  “This is what we wanted,” you said, your voice cracking.

A pause.  You could feel the tension even through the phone, a can of worms Natasha was about to open.  “Is it?  Is this what you wanted?”

“This was always the plan!” You retorted, the tears coming in a wave now.  “We’d stay married until after we graduated and then we’d divorce.  No drama, no court, no lawyers.  Just a means to an end.”

You could hear her whispering to someone that you knew was Steve on the other end for a few seconds, the sound muffled.  She’d probably covered the speaker.  “Do you want me to come over?” She finally asked.

“No,” you said with a sigh, rubbing the hell of your palm against your eyes.  “I just wanna… curl up in bed and watch cheesy movies and never come out.”

You didn’t understand.  Why did this hurt so bad?  He was just a friend.  You two had never even kissed, for crying out loud.  This wasn’t some fanfiction where you two fell into bed one drunken night and then woke up with feelings.  This wasn’t an ‘Oh no, there’s only one bed’ type of deal with 100K+ words on AO3.  You two were just friends.  Really.  There was no happy ending for the two of you waiting.

“Are you still gonna go to the Barnes’s Fourth of July party?” Natasha asked, her voice softer.

You pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on your knee caps.  “There’s no point.  We’re not married anymore.”

“Sweetheart,” she chided.  “You know he’d want you there.  So would his family.  You’re still a Barnes, even if you change your last name back.”

“I don’t know,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip.  “I like the last name Barnes better.  It’s not like I have any connection to my old last name.  Maybe…”  You swallowed.  “Maybe I should keep it.  It costs money to change it back, after all.  It’s on my license now.”

Ah, yes.  Because your license had expired while you were married and you’d had to get a new one.

“You’re a Barnes now and forever, hon,” she teased.  You could hear her smile through the phone.  “And you know Winifred would be pissed as hell if you didn’t go.  You’re her daughter now just as much as Bucky is her son.”

God, the tears came on like a tsunami when you remembered the Barneses.  George, Winifred, Becca, all of them.  Especially Winifred.  Sweet, sweet Winnie that had become your mom in the years since you’d met her.

“Bucky, I don’t know about this,” you said as you walked up the steps to his place.  Or, rather, his parents’ place.  “I should just go home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed as he searched for the right key.  “I’m not letting you drive the way back just to spend Christmas alone.”

Truthfully, it was stupid to even suggest.  Your apartment that you shared with him now was over eight hours away, and it was two days before Christmas Eve.

God, how the hell did you end up here?  You’d been planning on spending it alone, just like you had Thanksgiving.

But when Bucky had come back from the break and realized that you hadn’t gone anywhere, it’d prompted him to ask why, which had then resulted in him insisting on you accompanying him to New York City for Christmas with his family.

“What if they don’t like me?” You asked, barely audible.  In truth, you were terrified.  This was your first holiday season that you were away from your parents.  Thanksgiving had been strange, and you had certain it wasn’t going to get any better up until a few weeks ago.

Bucky stopped suddenly, looking at you with big blue eyes.  “Sweetheart, they’re going to adore you,” he said, more sincere than he’d been since the two of you had gotten married.  “How could they not?”

“You didn’t!”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t like me either.  And then we got to know each other.”

He had a point.

You grumbled, staring down at your boots.  They were still covered in snow.

“And besides, Ma hasn’t shut up about meeting you ever since she found out about you,” he muttered as he finally found the right key.  “Dad said she’s been obsessively cleaning the house since she found out you were coming.”

As soon as the opened the door, you were hit with a wall of sound.  A woman with the same shade of hair as Bucky rushed forward, trapping the six foot man in a hug.  “YOU’RE HOME!”

“Winnie, come on, don’t suffocate the boy.”  A man with Bucky’s eyes appeared, his hands shoved in his pockets.  He was trying to appear nonchalant, but the second he was free of his mother’s grasp, he was dragging him into another hug.  “I’ve missed you, son.”

“And you must be his wife!” Winifred Barnes said, suddenly turning on you.

“Ma, she has a name.”

“I know that!”

“Winnie–”

You were pulled into a hug, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with feelings.  Maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t hugged your own mother in so long, or maybe it was just because Winifred was that lovely of a person.  Either way, you were tearing up as she hugged you tightly.  You gave her your name as she pulled back, looking over your face.

“Oh, you’re even prettier than Jamie said!”

Your cheeks flushed as Bucky grumbled out a quiet “Ma…”

It was then that you were swept into the apartment, finding it bustling with people.  You were then introduced to the rest of his family: his younger sister, Becca, who was going to be a senior in high school and was SO grateful to have a new sister, his aunts, his uncles, his parents.  The entire apartment was bursting with people even days before the actual holiday.

It wasn’t until after dinner (which was absolutely delicious) that you were able to capture a quiet moment in the kitchen, helping Winifred wash dishes.

“Thank you for having me over,” you said, to break the silence.  It wasn’t uncomfortable, surprisingly, you just felt like you needed to vocalize your thanks for what was probably the third time.  “It means a lot.”

“Any friend of Jamie’s is a friend of ours,” she said as she rinsed off a plate.  “And we’re so grateful for what you’re doing.  He mentioned that it helps you, too, but…  Our family can’t afford to pay for his housing.  We can barely make his tuition.”  She looked at you with crystal clear eyes that seemed to bore into your soul.  “We’re so happy to have you.”  She then paused, glancing over at the side of the sink, where you’d set your wedding rings just to make sure they didn’t slip off in the water.  “You know, I was so happy when he asked for my ring.  He’s always dreamed of giving it to a girl.”

“What?” You asked, looking at her in shock.

Winifred paused, her brows furrowed in a way that really reminded you of your husband.  “Did he not tell you?  The engagement ring is mine.  But he saved up over the summer to buy a matching band for it.”

Your heart raced in your chest as you stared at the rings.  Bucky had gotten his ma’s ring for you?  But… why?  You two were barely friends at this point.

“I would’ve been spending Christmas alone if it wasn’t for him inviting me,” you said, breaking her stare to look down at your soapy hands.  “He found out I spent Thanksgiving at home and almost shit a brick.”  You rushed to cover your mouth, to apologize, but she just snorted.

An easy smile tugged at her lips.  “Holidays are a big thing for our family, and I guess we passed that down to Jamie.  Everyone comes to town for about a week and we spend it drinking and shooting the shit, baking.  We can’t afford much, so our gifts are usually just spending time together,” she said.

“It sounds nice,” you whispered as you scrubbed absentmindedly at a pan.  “My family… even when I still talked to them, we were never big on holidays.”  Winifred had gone quiet beside you.  “It was always just us.  We’d eat dinner together and sometimes I’d get a present, but mostly it was just spent like any other day.”

She took a deep breath, setting a plate on the drying rack.  “What… happened?  If you don’t mind me asking?”

“I… confronted my parents about the sexual abuse I went through as a kid,” you said slowly, swallowing around the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat.  “My cousin…  He, uh…  He’s only a year and a half older than me.  From the time I was… four or five, I think, to about twelve, he would… you know.”  The kitchen felt deadly silent, and you were so glad that the rest of the Barnses, including Bucky, were in the living room.  Even though he knew the basics of what had happened, you never told him details.  “And my parents would punish me for it when he got caught.  They blamed me.  They’d ground me or spank me or… whatever.”  You let out a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood.  “They didn’t really take it well.  It doesn’t matter though.  I’m fine.”

You were shocked when you were suddenly pulled into a tight hug.  Winifred’s arms formed a cocoon around you and you could feel her tears on your face.  She was only an inch or two taller than you.  “That was not your fault,” she gasped out, holding you to her.  “That was not your fault.”

Before you realized what was happening, you were clutching onto her as hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

You didn’t know how long she’d held you before she leaned back, wiping away your tears.  Or at least, trying to before they were replaced with more.  “You are not what he did to you, you hear me?” She asked, wiping at her own face.  “You are always welcome here.  We’re your family now.”

“What’s going on here?”

The both of you turned to see Bucky in the doorway, his sea blue eyes wide.  He was holding a few extra plates that had been left behind.

“Nothing,” she said with a watery grin.  “Just… talking.”

“Here,” he said as he walked over and put the dishes inside the sink filled with soapy water.  “I’ll finish up with my wifey here, and you go clean up before dad freaks out because you’re crying.”

She barked out a laugh, nodding.  “Fine.  Fine.  You know how he gets if I’m upset,” she said, kissing your forehead before leaving.

“So… You actually okay?” Bucky asked as he took over rinsing the dishes you washed.

The smile that found its way onto your lips was real, surprisingly, as you said, “Everything’s great, Jamie.”

And even though he let out a groan, he was smiling, too.

It was after that trip that you’d started calling him Jamie.  It just… felt better rolling off your tongue than Bucky ever did.  It was also when holidays in Brooklyn became a permanent thing.  Anytime Bucky went home, so did you.

They were your family.

But now…  Now what?  Did you lose them like you lost your parents?

Granted, losing your parents wasn’t exactly the worst thing.

“Sweetheart?  You there?” Natasha asked, bringing you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you said, shaking your head to clear out the cloudiness of your memories.  “Yeah, I’m–”  You broke off as you heard a knock at the door, a frown tugging at your lips.  “Hold on, Tasha, I’ll call you back…”  You hung onto your phone as you walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole.

Bucky?...  What the fuck was he doing here?

You opened the door wide, shocked to find him crying.  His eyes were puffy and red, his nose running.  “Jamie?  What’s wrong?”  You reached forward to touch his shoulder, shoving your phone in your back pocket.

“Don’t sign those papers.”

“Wait…  What?”  Now you were even more confused.  Your brows furrowed as you pushed his hair back from his face.  God, he needed a haircut.  Maybe you could…  No.  Not the focus right now.

He stepped toward, half inside the apartment that had been his, too, just two weeks before.  His large, calloused hand caressed your face.  “I don’t want to not be your husband,” he said, his voice cracking.

Your heart thundered inside your chest and you were half sure this was some kind of trick of your mind to soothe its aching.  “What do you mean?”

“I want to make this work,” he said as he cupped your face in his hands.  “I… I want to actually have Thursday night Date Nights and take you out and when we go home for the holidays, I want to kiss you under the mistletoe my ma always hangs up, and I want you to wear my ma’s ring.  I want to be your husband.  Please.”

You didn’t realize you were crying–yet again, fucking damn it–until he wiped them away.  “I don’t want to not be your wife, either,” you said, your voice shaking.  “I love you, I love you so much.”

His lips met yours in a blazing kiss, holding you closer than you thought possible.  “I love you more,” he whispered against your lips.  “I’m never letting you go.”

You dragged him inside, shutting the door before kissing him again.  “You’re staying here.  None of this bullshit of you staying with Tasha and Steve.”

“Gladly,” he chuckled, holding onto your waist.  “But only if I get to sleep in your bed.”

“Only if we can shred those divorce papers.”

The moment was interrupted by his phone ringing, and you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw it was Winifred.  He shot you an apologetic look as he answered it.  “Hey, ma.”

She was speaking so loudly you could hear her clearly.  “Well?!  How did it go?!  Did you ask her?!”

“Yes, I asked her,” he said slowly, squeezing your side.  “She said yes.  I’m with her now.”

Both of you flinched away as she screamed in excitement.  “GIVE HER THE PHONE!  GIVE HER THE PHONE!”

You smiled as you pressed it to your ear.  “Hi, mom.”

“BABY!  I’M SO HAPPY!  NOW WE CAN HAVE A REAL WEDDING!”  She was speaking at a hundred miles an hour.  “Do you want a summer or fall wedding?  I think it might be too late to do summer, but I’m sure we could scrounge something together!”

You giggled as Bucky stole kisses from you while she was speaking, distracting you.

“Sweetheart?  You there?”

“A late summer wedding sounds perfect,” you said, unable to wipe the grin from your face.  “Absolutely perfect.”

[portalford]

I Can Picture You So Easily

AO3

It hits Stan at the stupidest times.

Well.  That makes it sounds like Stan just forgets, when really it never quite goes away — sometimes it’s just more.

Like now.

He’s looking in the mirror — he found it tucked way, way back in a closet (and he’s gonna skip right over that because when he got here the mirror in the bathroom was broken, cracked until you couldn’t see a thing and why was Ford—nope) — and he’s trying out a new look for Mr. Mystery.

Gotta keep it fresh, right?  Accessorize?

Glasses aren’t accessories, unfortunately.  He can’t go without them anymore.

(Really, he needed them years ago, but he was too stubborn to admit it, or too broke, or whatever, but he’s literally tripping over his own feet now.  Needs must).

Ford wouldn’t be caught dead in this getup.  No sense of fashion.  So that’s fine.

The glasses—

(Ford started wearing glasses when he was six.  Stan had laughed himself silly when they went to the drugstore and tried on the biggest, most obnoxious frames they could find.  Ma had scolded, but she’d been too distracted checking price tags to do more than scold.

In the end, they went with some cheap horn-rimmed frames that Stan wouldn’t be caught dead in even now.  Old-man glasses, at six.  But that was Ford all over).

—they bring some stuff up.  The twin thing sucks, sometimes.  

(Looking in a mirror and seeing the changes, the lines in his face, the grey in his hair — does Ford have crow’s feet now?  Is his hair going silver?  It was always unmanageable — is it thinning like Stan’s is now, or is it still thick and flyaway, like it was when Ford was sixteen?  Did he even live long enough to get lines in his face and aches in his joints, or is he forever twenty-eight, dead somewhere in the universe?)

Time to stop thinking.

Notice the differences.

Stan’s ears and nose are bigger than Ford’s, always have been.  He’s heavier and his shoulders are broader.

(Has Ford gotten bulkier, fighting to survive?  Or is still he halfway to gaunt, like the last time Stan saw him?)

Definitely time to stop thinking.

Stan flashes a smile, and yeah, that’s all him.  Cheerful, magnetic, and a hundred percent fake.

Time to work the crowds.

*****

There’s an ad for the nice ink pens Ford saved up to buy when he was fourteen.

Stan turns it off.

*****

Mabel finds a picture, once.

“Grunkle Stan!”  Her eyes are all lit up as she shows him the torn photograph.  “I found this under a floorboard in the attic!”

If Stan ever had any doubts about his poker face, he can lay them to rest now. It’s all on the ropes and his expression is perfectly level, maybe even a little curious.

Mabel is still talking.  “I didn’t know there were pictures of you before you were all old!  Do you have any others?”

Oh.

Stan still forgets sometimes, even after everything, that most people can’t tell him and Ford apart.

He knows better.

The young man in the photograph is unmistakably Ford, taken while he was living in Gravity Falls.  He’s got his head bent over that journal of his, but the photographer managed to catch the eager light in his eye, the edge of his smile.

Stan wonders who that photographer was, all those years ago.

A tug at his shirt reminds him he’s not alone, and he definitely can’t get messed up about this picture of his secret twin brother.

Mabel’s face has fallen a bit.  “Grunkle Stan?  Are you okay?”

Stan gives himself two more seconds to look at the picture — Ford just looks so happy; Stan can’t even remember the last time Ford looked like that, even before it all fell apart — and turns to Mabel.

“Yeah,” he says.  He smiles and ruffles her hair.  “Pretty good picture, huh?”

*****

The name is the worst.

Stan never thought identity theft could involve so little fun.

Usually he can get away with just “Stan Pines,” and that’s fine.  That’s his name.  That’s who he’s supposed to be.

Sometimes, though, that’s not enough for whoever’s asking.

“What did you say your name was again?”

He smiles.  Lays it on thick.  “Stanford Pines.”

“Could you sign here?”

He does.  His blocky, uneven handwriting looks even worse than usual where he’s expecting to see neat, flowing script, the way Stanford Pines is supposed to be written.

“This is Stanford Pines,” someone will say.  “Mr. Mystery.”

Stan smiles some more.  Yes, Stanford Pines is certainly that.

Gideon is the worst.  Stanford this and Stanford that and Stan’s never wanted to punch a child so much in his life.

“Stanford Pines!”

He smiles, and he lies.

*****

Dipper halfway drives him nuts sometimes.

It’s not like the kid’s a mini-Ford — he reminds Stan enough of himself, sometimes, though Stan’s not sure that’s great either — but he’s got the brains and the stubbornness and the love of weird nonsense, for sure.

He’s also got that obsessive edge, the drive that sent Ford right off the metaphorical cliff.

Usually Mabel tags along on the weirdness hunts — they make a day of it.  They go out, just the two of them, and come back laughing and joking and shoving at each other.

That’s enough of a painful reminder, but sometimes Stan will catch Mabel sitting by herself, coloring or crafting with a little less energy than usual, and he’ll realize that Dipper’s buried himself in monster theory again.

He tries to keep the kid busy with chores and hustle, but it’s a losing battle.

It was the first time, too.

*****

There’s this old song that Ford used to love when they were younger.

It’s got no words, and Stan used to make fun of it — what's the point of a song with no words?  But Ford insisted it had Meaning, capital M.

It comes on the radio now and then.

Depending on how masochistic Stan is feeling that day, he might let it play.

He still wonders what Ford heard in this song, and if Ford would hear it now.

*****

He realizes, one day near the end, that he’s been Stanford longer than he’s been Stanley.

What’s the point, really?  What does a name matter if it’s so easy for someone else to take your place?

(Did Ford matter so little, in the grand scheme of things, that not one person could recognize him in a place he lived for six years?

Does Stan, in a place he’s lived for almost thirty?)

If he could just stop catching Ford in his reflection now and then, that’d be great.

*****

It’s not any better once Ford gets back (once Stan brings Ford back, the ungrateful bastard).

“Stanford!”

Stan’s got a smile on his face before he even turns around, and what’s wrong with him that he’s halfway made this lie into a Pavlovian response?  Someone calls him Stanford, he smiles and lies.

(Stanford — the real Stanford — is in the basement right now.  He doesn’t even exist, as far as anyone else is concerned.  Stan is Stanford, Stanley is dead, and Ford is a nonentity.

What a life this is).

*****

“So how was it?”

Stan grunts.  “How was what?”

Ford rolls his neck, wincing a little as he works out the unavoidable crick from hunching over a drawing for twenty minutes.  “Being me.”

Stan shrugs.  “Wasn’t hard.  We’re basically the same person, y’know.”

Ford snorts.  A long time (a lifetime) ago that comment might have gotten him worked up, but he’s steadier now, softer around the edges.  “Very funny.  I saw your lease renewal.  You didn’t even change your handwriting, for heaven’s sake.”

“Ford, I rolled up to town, said I was you, and started a tourist trap.  You had a total personality transplant and nobody noticed.”  Stan grimaces.  That sounded really bad.

Ford’s expression has gone rueful and a little sad at the edges, but he doesn’t seem like he’s about launch into full-blown self-recrimination, so that’s fine.  “Yes, well.  That’s what happens when you isolate yourself for six years and your only friend erases his mind to cope with the mistakes you made.”

And that’s Ford trying to shoulder all the blame again, but Stan keeps his mouth shut.  They’re both too comfortable to argue right now.  “Being honest — for once — it kinda sucked.”  Ford’s looking at him, open and encouraging, so Stan keeps going.  “Everyone thought I was you, and it—I wasn’t.  I didn’t want to be.”  Stan shrugs.  “I wanted you you.”

Ford smiles, and it’s a little more worn than Stan remembers, but it’s real, and it’s him.  “I understand.  I met a few parallel versions of you on my travels, and they were you, but — they weren’t really you.”  Ford closes his journal (his new one) and sets it aside, tipping his head back over his chair.  More playfully, he adds, “I wouldn’t want to be you either, Stanley.”

Stan laughs.  “Yeah?  Couldn’t handle the salesmanship?”

“Have more self-respect than to wear any part of your wardrobe.”

“Says the man who wears sweaters in the summer.”

Ford lifts his head and smiles, and this time it’s almost exactly how Stan remembers — quick and a little crooked.  “Fair enough.”  Ford stretches, rolls his neck again.  “For what it’s worth, Stanley, I am glad to be back.”  A wry look.  “Even if it’s going to take ages to sort out the criminal record you gave me.”

Stan slouches deeper into the couch.  Any further and he’s going to slide off, but that’s a risk he’ll take.  “Yeah, yeah.  Talk to me when you’re legally dead.”

“You did that.”

“And?”

“I legally don’t exist.”

“I was trying to learn theoretical physics at the time, Stanford; cut a man some slack.”

Ford laughs, quiet.  “Did I ever thank you for that?”

Stan cracks an eye open.  He didn’t realize he closed them.  “What, learnin’ physics?  Because I’m pretty sure that’s some of the stuff that’s not coming back.”

Ford rolls his eyes.  “For saving me.”

“Hm.”  Ford’s thanked him several times, but lately it’s been less Ford kicking himself and more Ford cautiously trying to engage in the old back-and-forth they used to have, and Stan can get behind that one.  “I dunno.  Might have to say it again.”

“You’re burning through my gratitude very quickly,” Ford says mildly, “but all right.  Thank you for saving me.  You knucklehead.”

Stan never got called that when he was Ford.  He thinks he’s missed it, at least the way Ford says it — like it means something completely different.

“Uh-huh.”  Stan’s eyes are closed again.  He figures he’ll just leave them closed.  “Missed you too, nerd.”

And maybe there’s something to be said for being your own person.

It feels pretty good.

[toplinetommy]

Redefining Home - Matthew Tkachuk

Synopsis: After spending months with Matthew in his childhood home in St. Louis, it’s time for him to go back to Calgary, and the reality of your normally long-distance relationship settles back in.

Words: 2k

A/N: very brief mention of the pandemic, gif credit @matthewtkafuck​

Three months - almost four; that’s how long you had spent close to every second of every day with Matthew and the entirety of the Tkachuk family. It was a huge change in the way you and Matthew experienced your relationship. Over the past year and a half of your relationship, the entire of it was spent as long-distance.

You had met Matthew when you had just started your career in Chicago, working for your dream company, living in an apartment your younger self could only dream of. Matthew had been in town for a game against the Chicago Blackhawks. They had won, the younger guys on the team opting to go out to celebrate, while you and some of your roommates were celebrating a birthday. One thing led to another and you had quite literally bumped into Matthew’s tall and broad frame while chasing your extremely drunk friend.

That night your friend ended up finding the rest of your group and you seemed to be glued to Matthew’s side the second you guys made eye contact. Sure you got yelled at by your friends the following morning about how you ditched them, but in the long run, no one could complain. You had gotten the handsome, curly-headed NHL player’s phone number with absolutely no intention to ever use it. That was until a few days later a text from an unsaved number popped up, saying it was Matthew from the bar a few nights ago. 

With him being a professional athlete in not only another country, but a different timezone, your guys’ relationship had started off with what most people would classify as a friendship based around your clear attraction for one another. Texting each other a few times a day turned into texting all day, every day, which then turned into facetiming any chance the two of you could get. Whether that be during your lunch break at work, him on the team bus to the airport, when you were walking down the city blocks of downtown Chicago, or him skipping his pre-game naps to just to hear your voice.

Your relationship started to shift from two friends to two people that were clearly interested in one another trying to figure out how to discuss those feelings when you were never in the same city and rarely in the same timezone. After weeks of pestering and some convincing from your roommate, you had agreed to get on a plane when Matthew had a string of home back-to-backs one weekend. He convinced you to come to see him play in person and then he could officially give you the wine and dine experience he told you you deserved.

That one weekend trip turned into you visiting him any weekend you could when he was in Calgary and even some when he was in various other cities. It was weekends away with him in his Calgary apartment and him flying into Chicago to spent time with you and your roommates with the very little free time he got. 

Weeks and weeks of flying around the North American continent and late-night facetimes when you weren’t together passed by before he had asked you to be his girlfriend to which you excitedly said yes to that one night in his Calgary apartment.

Those weekends spent flying in an out of Chicago were worth it though. Now, here you both were, in Matthew’s childhood home in St. Louis planning for what your guys’ next move was once he got on his flight back to Calgary to start training camp before the playoffs.

You’re sitting on the large sectional in the family living room, your feet laying across Matthews’s lap as he mindlessly rubs his thumb along your shins. You shiver at one particular stroke of his thumb causing Matthew to giggle and playfully squeeze your leg. You kick him playfully while sticking your tongue out, hoping to pull his attention from the tv show playing in front of you two. 

“Matthew,” you try, sticking out your bottom lip in a pout. He turns his head towards you raising his eyebrows as he hums out his response. Even though he’s facing you now, his gaze is still focused on the tv in front of him so you try again. 

“Matty,” you try again, this time dragging out his name in a whine. 

“Yeah, baby?”

“Give me attention.”

“Y/n, we‘re watching tv there’s only so much attention I can give you,” he reasons. He moves one of his hands further up your leg, reaching out to grab one of yours. He pulls your hand, making you sit up from where you’re leaning back against the couch. He continues to pull you until you’re curled into his side, head on his shoulders and legs still in his lap. 

He places his hand atop your head, flattening the stray strands of hair before placing a kiss there. Once his lips leave the crown of your head, he keeps his hand there as he continues to push his fingers through your hair and watch the show playing on the tv screen. 

You mindlessly move your body around, faking uncomfortableness in order for Matthew to abandon the show and give you his full attention. Once you’ve moved your hand across his chest for what felt like the 50th time in five minutes, Matthew grabs the remote next to him pausing the show. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“You’re leaving again in a few days, just wanna spend as much time with you as possible.”

At the admission, Matthew pulls your body further into his lap, maneuvering you so you’re straddling him. He looks into your eyes, noting the soft expression on your face as you look back into his blue eyes. 

“Baby,” He starts, his hand wrapped around the side of your neck, thumb resting on your jaw. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“But you’ll be back here and I’ll be back in Chicago.”

“And I’ll come see you when the season’s over, just like I did last year.”

“I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore.” You let out barely above a whisper. Matthew jolts at your response, slightly pushing yourself body away from his as he leans back into the couch cushions trying to put as much space between the two of you he can. 

“What?”

“No, not like that,” you smile. “I love you, you idiot, you aren’t getting rid of me that easy. I just meant being apart.”

Matthew sighs heavily at your clarification, his thighs relaxing underneath you. You place your hands around his neck, leaning your body into him. 

“I thought you were okay with us doing distance? It’s been working so far, hasn’t it?”

“It was, yeah, I don’t know. I just had this plan and then this whole pandemic hit and you let me come stay here these past few months and it’s just been so nice being around you all the time. It was working before, it just doesn’t seem like the ideal choice anymore.”

“But you had your plan. You’re gonna work your ass off until you get your promotion, then we were gonna talk about moving in together.”

“I know but my perspective has changed,” you start. “How am I supposed to just go back to Chicago without you, not knowing when we’ll see each other again when I got to have some of the best three months of my life with you here in St. Louis. It’s like I didn’t know how amazing it would be to be around you nonstop and now that I know what it’s like I’m not sure I can just go back to Chicago and how we were.”

Matthew tilts his head to look more directly at your face that’s now laying on his chest. He moves his hand to your head, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze. Instead of responding right away, he opts to lean in and place his lips on yours in a gentle kiss that expresses his love for you.

“I love you, so much, baby.” He assures you.

“I love you.”

“So you’re saying that you don’t want to do distance anymore?”

“I don’t think I can, especially not after knowing what it’s like to live with you.” You reiterate.

“I don’t want you to put me before your career, especially when I’ll be gone half the season on the road,” Matthew speaks lowly. He knows the weight of the decision you’re pondering and wants to make sure it’s the right one.

“I want to be with you Matty, all the time, no matter what.” You move away from him, trying to get a better look at his facial features as you speak. “I’ll start looking for jobs in Calgary tomorrow even.”

“You’re serious?” Matthew laughs, eyebrows raised.

“100 percent.” You smile widely, leaning in towards Matthew’s face to touch your lips to his. His eyes stare into yours until your lips meet in a very giggly and teeth-filled kiss. A kiss that’s full of pure elation at the decision the two of you just made. 

“It’s more than just getting a job, it’s in a whole new country.” He breathes against your lips.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Instead of you just moving into my place, let’s find a new apartment. My lease ends in November, you can come up then and we can look for a new place. Our place.”

“Can it at least have the same floor-to-ceiling windows you have in your place now?” You request with glee.

“Anything my girl wants, she gets.” Matthew laughs, giving you one more quick kiss and a squeeze at your waist. “Is it selfish of me to say I’m thankful for this quarantine, then? I get you with me 24/7 now.”

You laugh at his suggestion, “How did I get so lucky?”

Brady and Keith both walk in the room as you finish talking, Brady instantly chirping his brother. “You’re the lucky one? I’m pretty sure Matthew’s the lucky one in your relationship.”

Matthew pushes your body away from his, grabbing the decorative pillow next to him and throwing it at his brother’s moving figure. You laugh as the pillow missing Brady and hits Keith instead, who instantly scolds his oldest son. 

“You guys look awfully happy.” He comments.

Matthew looks back at you, silently asking for your approval on sharing the news before you nod your head yes. “We’re moving in together.”

“Three months with us and you’re still choosing to move in with him?” Brady chirps once again. “I’m surprised he hasn’t run you out of St. Louis yet.” Keith looks at his younger son at this, giving him a stern look telling him to shut up.

“Congratulations guys,” Keith smiles. “Y/n, whatever happens, don’t get roped into doing his laundry all the time. Despite his complaining, he does know how to do it.” 

Matthew rolls his eyes at his family members’ chirps, still basking in the excitement that was your guys’ relationship’s next step. You couldn’t agree more with his earlier statement - you had to be thankful for being stuck at the Tkachuk family home for three months. It took your relationship to the next level, even with the very close encounters where you were sure Matthew was getting under your skin just to piss you off. Matthew was your best friend and you couldn’t wait to be a part-time Canadian, something he liked to call himself with his career. Being with him all day for the past few months only reaffirmed your deep love for the curly-headed boy who sat underneath you.

[littleredlie]

Hearts (S1P5)

Series Masterlist | Master Masterlist

Chicago Med x doctor!OC Morgan Fitzgerald is a doctor at Chicago Medical and family secret’s spill as her younger brother goes through major life changes. Her relationship with her colleagues also alter as she weighs everyone’s decisions during the day. Based off S1E14 of Chicago Med

4.0k+ Words 

Featuring: Morgan Fitzgerald, Marcus Fitzgerald, Will Halstead, Maggie Lockwood, Connor Rhodes, Stephanie Fitzgerald (mentioned), Don Fitzgerald, April Sexton Warning:  mentions of rape and murder, idk what else ???, cursing ??? , patient death, mentions of pregnancy loss A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this one. We learn more about Morgan and her family. And Connor and Morgan’s relationship is altered. She also reconciles with Will. Let me know.

Part Four

“Dad? Is everything okay?” 

Morgan’s father rarely called her. It wasn’t that they were distant, they just didn’t like talking on the phone. And Morgan always made the effort to fly out to Colorado Springs at least once a year.

“No, everything’s not okay. It’s Marcus.”

“Marcus? What happened?” Morgan stops in a vast hallway, her body looking out to the street that runs alongside the hospital.

“He dropped out of college.”

“Um,” Morgan thinks about what to say. “Dad, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that.”

“He’s not answering our calls and his roommate hasn’t seen him in a few days.”

Morgan and Marcus were close. But after Olivia’s death they grew distant, even though they lived in the same city. Occasionally, they would get together for lunch or dinner and they would try to spend birthdays together, but Morgan was busy (more like consumed) with work and Marcus was focusing on school. 

“Dad, I just got back from a trip two weeks and I’ve been nonstop busy with work. I haven’t necessarily been keeping watch.”

“Well, when you get the chance can you please tell him to call us. Or even talk to him yourself.”

Morgan lets a sigh out unsure on how to handle the situation. “I’ll do what I can dad, but no promises. Marcus is his own person and after Olivia, things have been different.”

“They have been for us all Morgie. It doesn’t mean he should throw away his life.”

“Dad.” She sternly cuts him off before he could continue. “When I get a hold of him I’ll talk to him. You’ll only get him mad.”

“Now Morgan, I just want what’s best for him. I let him fly out there for college and he proves me wrong by being irresponsible. Stephanie is friends with the dean, she can reverse his decision.”

Her father continues, but a nurse walks up to Morgan gaining her attention.  “Dr. Fitzgerald, your brother is waiting for you in the cafeteria.”

“Thank you.” Morgan nods and turns her attention back to her dad. “Dad, listen. I have an important case that I need to get back to. When I see or hear from Marcus, I’ll call you.” The older man tries to continue talking, but Morgan hangs up the phone and makes her way to the cafeteria.

When she makes it to the vast space, she easily spots her brother Marcus. He’s using his fork to push around a tomato on his plate and his leg is bobbing up and down, shaking the chair next to him. 

“Hey Marcus. You haven’t been waiting long have you?” Morgan pulls the chair away from her brother’s shaking leg and sits down in it.

“No, I just got here.”

“Good.” Morgan pulls out her lunch, noticing how hungry she’d gotten. “So, what’d you want to talk about?” She asks then shoves a forkful of pasta in her mouth.

“I came to give you this.” Marcus pulls out a key and slides it over to his sister. Morgan hurriedly swallows her food to question him.

“Why’re you giving it back?”

“I appreciate you letting me stay in your apartment these past couple of weeks while Hayden’s gone.” Morgan urges him to continue. She pushes away her fettuccine alfredo dish and picks up the key. 

“I told you, you could stay as long as you want. Hayden’s gonna be out for another two weeks or so.”

“No, I know that. And again thank you. But I’m actually leaving Chicago.” Marcus tries telling the news slowly, but it still brings shock to his older sister. Her eyes have widened and her eyebrows were almost aligned with her hairline.

“Don’t you think that’s a little too rushed. It’s not too late to go back to school or –”

“No Morgan. It’s like I said last night. It’s been a little rough on me and I just don’t think school’s for me.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

“A friend of mine has some work in Louisiana for me.”

“And what exactly is your plan Marcus? You dropped out of school two weeks ago. Your name is still on the lease of your apartment. Are you planning on  going down to Louisiana to couch surf? You haven’t thought this through.”

“Wow Morgan. Out of everyone, I thought you’d be more supportive.” He scoffs, a little offended. Morgan can see her brother pull himself away from her, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s not that Marcus. I’m your sister, I’m allowed to be like this. Criticize your actions. Worry about you.”

“Well you need to understand that this is something that I want to do?”

“Why? What happened two weeks ago that has prompted you to uproot your life?” Marcus glances away, looking anywhere but at his sister. This irritates Morgan a bit and she taps the table to get him to look at her. “You can talk to me Marcus.”

“Two weeks ago, I got arrested and was almost charged with drug possession.” The news shocks Morgan even more and now she’s the one to lean back into her chair.

“Why didn’t you tell me? What happened?”

“I didn’t tell you because my mom didn’t want me to tell you. She used her connections to get the charges dropped.”

“She got the charges dropped? More than she ever did for me.” Morgan mumbles the last part, but Marcus hears her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The older sister makes a sucking noise with her teeth and shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Got into a fight at a frat party and got arrested, and instead of bailing me out, your mom let me spend the night in jail. And I had to do all the hard work to get it expunged.”

“Maybe that’s why she didn’t want me to tell you.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Morgan and Stephanie didn’t have the best relationship. It might have started from the fact that Morgan refused to call her ‘mom’ and had always called her by her name. Maybe even the fact that Morgan looked just like her mother. It could have also been the fact that Stephanie’s only son with her father, Marcus, looked up to Morgan as her replacement. Stephanie was always away on lawyer business; their dad had expectations for all his children to fulfill and it got a little overbearing; Olivia was an older teen that was out of the house by the time Marcus was four; and his older brother Omar was a kid himself, so most responsibilities that pertained to Marcus growing up, fell onto Morgan. She didn’t mind, but Stephanie did and it only created a bigger rift between stepmom and stepdaughter. 

Take into account a bunch of other events that occurred since Stephanie married her dad and it’s no surprise that the two didn’t get along and had to restrain themselves during family holidays. When Marcus moved out to Chicago, he did it as a way to get closer to his big sister again and he also understood that the death of their older sister was hard on Morgan. But despite his efforts they never did get close as they used to be.

Morgan is pulled out of her thoughts when she realizes that she’s staring off into the distance. “Anyways, that all doesn’t matter. Your mom got you out, it doesn’t seem like that is a reason to leave.”

“Well our dad’s apparently had enough of my shenanigans this semester, so he cut me off.”

“He cut you off?” Morgan leaves forward again, her forearms accidentally slamming into the table too hard.

“Yeah. My grades have been slipping. I’ve been to more parties than lectures. And I guess the arrest was the last straw.”

“And instead of helping you out, he cuts you off?”

“I don’t really care. I’ve finally realized college isn’t for me and that I just want to find my own path.”

“Okay, Mr. Fortune Cookie. Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn’t abruptly leave and detach yourself from your family after something like that happened? Maybe you should stay with me a little longer.”

“Morgan, I love you. But you’re never home. Since I got here last year, you’re never available and I know that’s not gonna change soon. Dad and I aren’t talking. And I’m not gonna move back home just to be stuck listening to my mom trying to push me back to school.”

“You can at least find a job in a city you know. I’ll help pay for your rent.”

“You still have student loans to pay off and your own rent to worry about.” “What about Omar? He and Rachel have an extra room in their apartment in California. It’ll be a new town, but you’d have family.”

“I’m not moving into an apartment with my older brother and his wife, not while they’re trying for a baby.”

“Is there any way that I can get you to change your mind?”

“No.”

“Dad called, he might uncut you off.” She shrugs, trying anything to get him to not make such a rash decision.

“Morgan,” he takes his sister’s hands trying to calm her down. “This will be good for me, I promise.” There’s a smile on his face, a dimple poking out of his left cheek. Morgan tries to say something again, but her phone beeps, indicating that she is needed in the emergency room. She hesitates, not wanting to end this conversation. “Take it, I have to head back to my apartment to pack.”

“Marcus–” He gives his sister a look and she pulls out her phone. Yep, she was needed. She stands up and he does the same. “You better not leave without giving me a proper goodbye.”

“I won’t,” the 19 year old pulls his sister in for a hug and she hugs him firmly, kind of scared to let him go. “Why don’t we go out for dinner and bring Connor?”

“Connor?”  Morgan pulls her body away from her brother, a confused look decorating her features. “How’d you know he was back?”

“I actually talked to him about this a few days ago.”

“I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“He’s a family friend. Friend of the family. I am also in this family.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ll ask him.” Morgan shoves her brother slightly and then begins making her way to the emergency department. “Keep the alfredo. Connor made it.” She yells back to him, the abandoned food resurfacing in her mind.

          ❦

The second Morgan walks into the ER she spots Connor at the desk. She walks up behind him and places a gentle touch on his bicep.

“Hey,” he says when he sees her.

“Hey.” He turns back to the Mac computer, but she keeps looking at him. “Why didn’t you tell me about Marcus? You and I see each other everyday.”

“It’s not that I was keeping it from you, Marcus wanted to tell you himself. And he asked me for advice on how to tell you.”

“Oh,” she tilts her head to the side as if to get a better perspective. “ I didn’t know I was that difficult to speak to.”

“You have your moments Fitz, but telling you was really important to him. So I was willing to help.” 

“Well thank you. He seems to be at ease with his choices.” 

“Well I’m glad.” Connor nods, giving a little smirk to his friend.

“He’s invited us to dinner. Wanna come?”

“Yeah, sure.”

A ding resonates in the department and Morgan sees Maggie in the corner of her eye.

“Dr. Fitzgerald, trauma one incoming.” Maggie says, a light tap on the doctor’s arm before moving towards the ambulance bay doors. 

Instantly Morgan grabs two pairs of blue gloves from a box on the countertop, throwing the extra towards the surgeon. “Come on heart doctor.” He chuckles, but pulls the gloves on and follows Morgan.

“18-year-old female hit a guard rail, flipped her car. Open left tib/fib, BP 90/75.” Everyone begins reeling the gurney into a trauma room. “Heart rate 130, GCS 10.”

“Alright, she’s gonna need ortho.” Dr. Rhodes starts. “Call X-ray. Alert the OR.” Maggie signals her understanding before putting the orders in her cube.

Morgan grips the sheets the patient is on to start the transfer. “One, two three. Transfer.” On her orders everyone moves the patient onto the treatment bed.

“It’s okay, sweetie.” Maggie soothes. “Let go of the purse; it’s okay. Let go.”

“It’s okay.” Connor tries to comfort as well, seeing the hesitance in the patient’s eyes. “You can give her the purse, okay? You can give her the purse.” 

Morgan moves away from the top of the patient and focuses on her other injuries. Morgan looks up to the screen; worry beginning to climb in her chest. Maggie leaves the room on a quest to find the girl’s family. Maggie takes her place next to Doris. “BP is crashing,” she says to the team.

“Pulse ox is 78.”

“She’s lost consciousness.” Morgan notices, taking a torch and flashing it into the girl’s eyes to gauge her reaction.

“Give me 100 of Sux, 20 of Etomidate.”

“Need a hand?” Morgan’s head raises to the sound of Dr. Halstead.

“Yeah, throw in a tube.” Morgan recommends and Will enters the situation. Morgan grabs the breathing mask and places it on Skyler’s face as the red headed doctor begins prepping the tube.

“She’s bleeding from somewhere.” Dr. Rhodes says. “Get the level one transfuser, trigger the MTP. I need the FAST scan and a chest X-ray.” The FAST scan is put in Connor’s hand as Will continues to intubate the girl. Morgan holds the breathing mask, waiting to move onto the next task to help the patient. Nurses surround the doctors giving off statuses and performing duties. 

“I’m in.” Will says and Morgan hands him the breathing tube so that he can push air into Skyler’s lungs. He nods at her and Morgan gives off a smile before moving away.

“All right, there’s no free fluid in her belly.”

“Let’s get the X-ray in here. And increase O2 to the max.” Morgan immediately announces when Connor removes the ultrasound wand. Will puts on a lead apron, Connor places a board under the girl and Morgan heads out of the way.

“X-ray, clear.”

“Clear.”

The room continues moving as soon as the X-ray is done. Will looks at the results, analyzing the problem. “Her left side is whited out and her mediastinum has shifted to the right.”

“It’s a tension haemothorax.” Morgan mumbles, her hands moving to the drawer with a chest tube. 

“Chest tube tray now. 36 French.” Connor says, and Morgan places it in his hand.

“Hand me the trauma shears.” Morgan asks April, who hands it to her. The doctor then cuts the girl’s shirt and disinfects the area. She moves out of his Dr. Rhodes’ way as he begins to cut into Skyler’s side.  Blood begins squirting out of the cut while Connor tries to plug it closed. “We need more sponges.” 

“Yes, doctor.”

“More four by fours.” Someone says.

“She tore something major in there.” Will exclaims as he tries to help his colleague. 

“Transfuser’s here!” April vocalizes, pulling the machine.

As Connor continues with the chest tube, Morgan leads the way. “Alright, let’s hook it up. Start with the blood and the plasma.” The nurse starts to do what was directed and Morgan moves back to Skyler’s head. A few more things are addressed before Connor makes the move to go up to the OR. Together the team, excluding Morgan, wheel the girl in the direction of the OR.

The doctor throws the gloves in a trash can, making her way over to Maggie’s desk.

“You’re not going up with them?”

“No, Connor’s got it. Besides I was paged down here for something.”

“Yes, a patient of yours in treatment 4. Should be your last before you head up to OBGYN.”

Morgan takes the tablet with a smile and turns, heading to the new patient. It’s been two weeks since she got back from her vacation and the break has allowed her to enjoy her job. You could see it in the way she easily smiled and they way interacted with her surroundings. Kevin and Adam taking the case out of her hands, helped as well. Maybe life could be a little easier now.

          ❦

When it came to obstetrics and gynecology, it was not as hectic as the emergency room. And during her hours there, Morgan was able to slow her pace down a little. Sure at times it could get a little boring, but Morgan loved seeing pregnant women and delivering babies, the beauty of life.

She’s standing in front of the glass window of the nursery room. Babies sprawled in their little incubators. Some fussing, some sleeping, some peacefully looking at the dim lights about them. She’s so entranced, she doesn’t even notice the person walking up beside her.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” She turns her head to see a woman who’s also looking at the newborns. “Is one of them yours?”

“Oh no! I just like looking at them.”

“Understandable. The one right here,” she points to a baby with a light green hat,” is mine. Harley is her name.”

“Beautiful.” Morgan sighs out, a small grin on her face.

“Do you have kids?”

“Um, no.” The doctor chokes out.

“Do you want kids?”

The personal question shocks Morgan. It almost makes her faint. Lately she hasn’t thought about it; but usually whenever she was on the phone with her dad or Stephanie, they’d remind her that her biological clock was running out. “I think I do.” Morgan answers, unsure what kind of answer that was. “I was pregnant twice before, but after that I never thought of it.” The doctor had no idea why she just told the woman that. No one knew about her pregnancies, not Hayden or Connor, not her brothers or her dad. This was something she wanted to keep to herself, not like it was anyone else’s business.

“Well I hope that you figure it out.”

“Thank you,” Morgan stalks away trying not to let the revelation of her child situation get the best of her. She continues walking until she gets back to the ED. She resumes working for the last few hours of her shift. Her mind forgetting everything else going on in her life and continuing with work.

          ❦

“Hey Will, have you seen Connor?” Morgan asks after venturing through the ED looking for her dinner date. “We’re supposed to have dinner.”

“So now you’re talking to me? Cause it’s almost been a month.” He says, packing away some things in his bag.

“Yeah, I am.” She looks at him. He isn’t looking at her and Morgan understands why. “Will, I’m sorry, I am. Everything that was happening a few weeks ago was a nuclear bomb. You were going through your own things and I didn’t necessarily help.”

“You were a little hostile,” they both chuckle at that. Morgan steps a little closer, testing the waters a little bit.

“I know I was. When it comes to my family, I get a little defensive. Especially with what happened to my sister. Then you went a did something incredibly stupid and I just got mad at you. And everytime I thought about approaching you, you went and did another stupid thing. You’re a great doctor. Amazing. I don’t want you to ruin that.” The two of them are closer now and Morgan tries to show her sincerity. “You have been one of my closest friends these past few years and I didn’t want to lose you. I’m sorry.”

“I forgave you a while ago.” He answers back and Morgan releases a breath she didn’t know she’d captured.

“And I promise I will try to tell you about my family and other things. Just give me a little time.”

“Yeah, of course. No big deal.” He nods, his eyes grazing the features of her face.

“Thank you Will. I don’t deserve you.” Morgan throws her arms around him and he almost doesn’t have time to react as she quickly pulls herself back. “I’m sorry to rush this nice moment, but have you seen Connor? We’re supposed to meet my brother for dinner.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry. He was here just a few minutes ago. He was packing up to leave.”

“Damn, he must’ve forgot about dinner.”

“Morgan, you should know that our peds v auto patient didn’t make it. She died in surgery and I think it got to him.”

Taking a few steps back, Morgan nods, understanding the situation. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll go make sure he’s okay.” Grabbing the bag that was prepped before she went on her search for Connor, she heads out of the room and throws a quick wave to Will.

It’s a little cold when Morgan steps out and she tightens her coat around her. Connor’s car is still in the parking lot and the sight pulls her body towards him. As she gets closer she sees him crying. The scene demolishes Morgan’s heart and it almost makes her cry, her eyes wetting as teardrops sit unshed. Her hand raises to tap on the driver window and she sees her friend jump a little. His head hesitantly turns to look at Morgan and she offers a small smile. He just looks at her, unaware of what to say or do, but gladly Morgan does. 

She walks around the front of the car and opens the passenger door, throwing her backpack in first and placing herself inside. The door slams shut and silence envelopes the two doctors. With no hesitation, Morgan reaches across the center counsel and takes Connor’s hand. Her thumb grazes his knuckles as his sobs calm down a little.

“I’m sorry about your patient Connor.” He turns his head and looks at her with a grateful look. “I already canceled dinner with Marcus. We can have it another night.”

“Thank you.”

“For the time being though, let’s go back to my place. We can watch movies and order pizza from that old pizzeria that we used to go to as kids. And you can’t say no.” Her other hand cups his face and softly wipes the tears away. “We’ll even drink wine or something. Whatever’s in the cupboards.” Connor’s hand clutches the wrist of the hand on his cheek, his thumb now soothing the exposed skin. There’s a small smile adorning his face and they almost reach his eyes. 

“I’m sorry about dinner.” His voice is raspy, bothered by the crying he was just doing. But Morgan finds it cute and it only brings her closer to him.

“No need to apologize. Like we promised, we’d always be there for each other.” It’s intimate, the most they’ve ever been and it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if they had always been this intimate. And no one knew who moved first, but in a short moment their lips clashed against each other in a kiss that was long overdue.  

Connor’s hand leaves Morgan’s and moves to cup the back of her neck as a way to bring her closer to him. The action, along with the temperature, sends a chill down her spine but the warmth of his lips soothes her. The tenderness of the kiss remains and they both decide to keep it gentle because these were new waters. His lips are a little chapped, but they compliment her soft ones and it parallels her callous fingers that are caressing his soft skin.

If Morgan could kiss Connor forever, she would. But they were still sitting in his car in the hospital parking lot. Their movements stop for a moment and they both sit there with their eyes closed, lips barely touching. When Morgan opens her eyes, he’s looking at her. There’s still a sad look present, but a small grin is pointed at her. She notices the dark scruff sculpting the bottom of his face and the tears sitting on his eyelashes. His eyes are on her lips as he feels an overpowering urge to kiss her again.

“We can also do more of that if you aren’t up for movies.” Morgan jokes before giving him a chaste kiss.

“Yeah, why not.” He whispered, willing to continue the private moment but also take a break from the day.

Part Six

[hockey-fics]

Not Enough ~ Vince Dunn 

Summary: After two years with Vince you’re not sure about the future of your relationship. 

Requested: Sort of. This is for the requests of something angsty with Vince Dunn and another for just general Vince Dunn content. 

Author’s Note: Sorry for disappearing for so long and also for the fact that those requests were made ages ago. Hopefully after the absence my writing hasn’t gotten worse. Italics are flashbacks. 

Warnings: None. Swearing if we’re still counting that as a warning. 

Word Count: ~2,131

“Hun, I know it hurts right now but you need to get out of bed,” your best friend, Ally, says gently, sitting on the edge of your bed with her hand resting on your arm. “It’s been a week, have you even left your apartment?”

Shaking your head you keep your eyes fixed on a scuff mark along the baseboard of the wall. “No,” you croak, eyes feeling heavy as you curl your legs further into your body. 

“Y/N,” Ally whispers, pity clear in her voice. A moment later she lifts the blankets off your body, taking one of your hands in hers. “Come on, you’re going to have a shower and then we’re going to go get a coffee and go for a walk.”

Sighing you push yourself up off the bed, obliging her request. You knew she was right, that you needed to get up and do something. Even a walk would hopefully push you out of this state you were in. You couldn’t let yourself do this, couldn’t let your entire life fall apart over a relationship falling apart. Shuffling into the bathroom you turn on the shower, stepping into it once the water was hot enough to engulf you in a comfortable warmth. As soon as the water hits your skin it lulls you right back to that night two weeks ago. 

“Well what do you want me to do? You know that part of my job is being away,” Vince snaps, the two of you standing across the living room from each other, physically separated in the same way you were emotionally. 

“That’s not-,” you start, stopping to take a deep breath. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Vince. I’m talking about when you are here. When you’re home and you barely pay attention to me. When you walk through that door and barely acknowledge me or forget when I say I’m making us dinner and leave me here alone. Am I not enough for you anymore?” you retort. You had started with hostility, losing a little bit of that with each word till you’re left sounding deflated as you ask if you’re enough. A few tears slip from your eyes and you internally curse yourself for not being able to hold them back. 

Vince’s demeanour softens when he notices the tears, bounding across the space between you two with arms ready to wrap you up. 

“No,” you state before he has the chance to touch you, stumbling back away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Y/N,” Vince mumbles, this time being the one to sound deflated. “You’re...you’re more than enough. I didn’t...I don’t know...I just, I’m sorry-.”

“Stop,” you say, cutting him off. “Save your bullshit for someone else. I’m done with this.” Reaching up you wipe away the tears from your face, taking a couple deep breaths as you stand in silence with him. Vince watches you with a helpless look, not knowing what was left to do, what he could do to save this. “Should I go or do you want to?”

Vince stares at you blankly for a few minutes, shaking his head a second later. “Go?” he asks in confusion. 

You two had moved in together four months prior, an unfortunate situation now considering the year lease you had signed together. “Yes, Vince, go. Ex’s don’t live together.”

A loud breath of air comes from Vince as if someone had kicked him in the stomach and he reaches up, running a hand through hair anxiously. “Ex’s?” he mutters in disbelief. “We’ve been together for almost two years, Y/N,” he exclaims. “Two years and after one fight you’re going to end it?”

“It’s not a fight Vince,” you tell him, arms folded over your chest defensively. “It’s me breaking up with you.”

“When did you decide you were going to do this?” His voice is so quiet and bleak that you’re pretty sure you can feel physical pain radiating from your heart, knowing you were the reason behind it. 

“A couple of weeks ago. When we were supposed to spend the evening together so I made us dinner and you didn’t come home till after midnight.”

“I was just with the guys,” Vince defends, as if you were insinuating that he was cheating on you. 

“I trust you Vince, I know you weren’t with another girl,” you tell him, sighing. “That’s not the problem, the problem is I’m so far down on your list of priorities that I don’t think you have room for me in your life anymore.”

Vince steps forward, trying again to get his arms around you, to reassure you in the only way he ever really knew how to. “I told you not to touch me,” you say, watching him falter in front of you before shoving his hands into his pockets. “If you’re not going to leave then I will,” you whisper, feeling your eyes fill with tears again as you avert them to the ground. 

Vince shakes his head despite you no longer looking at him. His own eyes fill with tears which he tries to fight back with rapid blinking. “No,” he mutters, sniffling quietly as he reaches up to quickly swipe away a couple tears before they make it out of his eyes. “No, I’ll go.”

You don’t look up till he begins to walk down the hallway to gather some things, but you didn’t need to see him to know he was crying. Maybe you didn’t want him to see you upset. But maybe you really just didn’t want to see him upset. Maybe you wouldn’t have been able to handle knowing you hurt him. 

“Y/N?” Ally calls, her voice drawing you out of the trance you had been in. “You okay?”

“Fine, yeah, I’m fine,” you call back, scrambling through the rest of your shower in an attempt to not break the world record for longest shower. 

An hour later you leave your apartment with Ally, walking down the sidewalk towards the nearest coffee shop. As you get closer your steps get slower and Ally glances over at you with an obvious look of confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Could we not go to this one?” you ask her, never before having realized how often you really went to that coffee shop with Vince. It was the closest one to your place, it made sense that when you two wanted coffee that’s where you would go. But you never realized all those trips had left a lasting impression. Nothing memorable had ever happened, you hadn’t met there, hadn’t shared any personal stories or moments in that little coffee shop. But it had been imbued with memories of him. Of you and him. 

“Of course,” Ally says quickly, reaching over and placing her hand on your arm. “Wherever you want to go.”

A few minutes and a quick google search later you had decided on a small restaurant instead. Perhaps your first real meal in a week would make you feel a little better as well, at least that’s what you were trying to convince yourself. In all reality you wanted to curl back up in bed and forget about the fact that every minute of the day was not filled with regret over your decision to end things with Vince. Why hadn’t you tried harder? Talked to him more about it instead of just calling it quits?

“Please get out of your head,” Ally says. “Look around, it’s a beautiful day. Just think about that right now, that’s all that matters.”

Taking Ally’s advice you do everything in your power to focus on the moment. On the sunlight streaming through the trees along the sidewalk, on the orange leaves scattered around the ground, on the way your breath appeared in clouds of condensation in front of your face. Twenty minutes later you walk into the small restaurant, finding a table near the window. After ordering your meals you do your best to stay present, to listen to the stories Ally was telling you. It was all lighthearted stuff, about the embarrassing thing she had done at work, the stupid stuff her new puppy was doing, about her nephew and all the milestones he was reaching. And you were doing your best to listen, to really care about her puppy destroying a throw pillow or her nephew saying his first word. 

You feel a sudden urge to look out the window, your eyes following along with the sensation and falling on the one person you had been trying so hard to keep out of your thoughts all afternoon. Ally notices your sudden shift, eyes following yours out the window. “Of course,” she mutters under her breath, leaning back in her chair with a sigh of defeat. 

Vince somehow notices you as well, stopping in his tracks outside the window, staring as if he wasn’t sure it was really you. A moment later he begins walking again and for a second you think he’s leaving, that he noticed you but had moved on enough already to not even acknowledge you. But as he gets to the door of the restaurant he pulls it open, walking in and towards your table. “Y/N,” he breathes out, eyes filled with concern. “Are...are you okay?”

“Hm?” you hum, nodding quickly. You knew exactly why he was asking, the dark circles under your eyes had proven to be stronger than your concealer and you hadn’t even tried to figure out how to correct the redness in your eyes. “I’m okay. How, um, how have you been?”

Vince is quiet for a second, glancing over at Ally before returning his attention to you. “Terrible,” he admits, shifting uncomfortably as he stands at the edge of your table. 

“Oh,” you croak, glancing down at the tabletop with a sudden heaviness on your chest. “Where were you going?” you ask, wanting to know what he was doing still hanging around your neighborhood. 

“Just going back to my hotel,” he tells you. “I, wanted to be, uh, like close or whatever, in case you needed me...or, something, in case you needed something,” he stammers, as if embarrassed by it. 

“Vince,” your voice wavers through his name and you push your chair back from the table. “Let’s go outside for a minute,” you suggest, leading the way out of the restaurant. The cold air hits you when you open the door, realizing you had left your jacket at the table with Ally. 

“I’m so sorry,” Vince says sincerely. “I didn’t realize. I didn’t know how you were feeling. I just, fuck, I don’t even know. I feel so...lost. I don’t know how to get you back, if I can get you back. But I just...I miss you.”

You’re quiet for a minute, not knowing what to say. He was being so open and genuine, something that he hadn’t always been good at. It felt unfair of you to not also be open with him. “I miss you too,” you tell him, eyes locked on his. “I don’t know what to do. I love you, but I just got so tired. Tired of not feeling like I was enough, tired of feeling like I had to work so hard for your attention.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know, it’s stupid of me to not realize. But you just always seemed so busy with your own stuff, I didn’t think about it. I didn’t know I was hurting you and I’m really sorry.”

Fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt you stare down at your hands. “Yeah, I was busy but I was willing to make time for you. I was always trying and you just weren’t.”

Vince reaches over, his hands tentatively landing on your arms. You feel a slight pull of his arms, testing to see if you would allow him to pull you closer. After a moment of resistance you give in, cherishing in the comfort of his body warmth and his arms tight around your body. “I’ll try, I’ll try so much harder than I ever did. I’ll make time, whatever you need because I need you, Y/N. I never realized how much I need you, how important you are to me. I know I fucked up, I know that now. But if we can try this again, if you’ll take me back I promise I’ll do better.”

Your arms tighten around him, fighting back against the sting of tears. “Come home,” you whisper, barely loud enough for him to even hear.

“Really?” Vince asks with tentative happiness.

Pulling back just enough to look up at him you meet his eyes, nodding your head with a slight smile. “Yes.”

[siren-queen-imagines]

Rebound

To a lovely anon: I have your Billy Russo request for you! I hope you enjoy!!

Prompts Used: 1.“You said that I’d get to have you all weekend. Why can’t you just tell them you can’t go?” - “Because it’s my job, and it’s important.” - “And I’m not?”  6.“Losing you was the most unbearable pain I’ve ever felt.”

Masterlist

(gif by me)

The smile you gave the group of girls didn’t exactly reach your eyes like it normally does...but they didn’t even really seem to notice. You were out with the girls, after refusing the last 2 months.

“You need to get over him properly.” One of them told you.

“Yeah. You need to meet a new guy.” Another said.

“At least rebound sex someone. It’s been 2 months but better late than never.”

And then they laughed. Honestly you got where they were coming from but you just weren’t in the mood to be genuine about any of this. 

2 months ago, your 3 year relationship with Billy Russo came to an end. You had just finished moving out and are still looking for a place to live...but for now you were living with Jessica, your sister. And that’s how you were dragged out tonight.

You really preferred to stay in and just gorge on food and watch something on Netflix but Jessica thought a night out with the girls to celebrate the end of your moving out from Billy’s place was in order. Plus, she always said you needed to celebrate your newly single life.

To be honest, you still weren’t feeling it. 3 years of being with someone wasn’t gonna be gotten over in 2 months...well, for you at least. It honestly didn’t help that it seemed all Jessica did while you were going through your mourning period was try to get you to go out or invite the girls over where all they do is want to talk about Billy. Granted it was because of how much of an asshole he was but just even hearing his name never helped.

You know what else never helped? Them talking about how hot he was while they were at it and then wanting to know about your sex life with him. You definitely needed new friends. Hell, these girls were more your sister’s. They didn’t exactly get along with your actual friends.

So yeah, being out with them was the last thing you wanted.

“I’m out.” You announced to the table after you drained the last of you drink. “I’m gonna go get another one.”

“Oh my god.” Nadine, another one of the girls awed, not hearing you. “Look who decided to show his pretty face.”

“You’re kidding.” Layla chuckled, following Nadine’s eye line.

You did the same and there Billy was, sitting at the bar with Curtis. God, you still missed him. 

“Eh, he’s still looking fine as hell though.”

“Definitely. Looks like the break up didn’t affect him. You sure you’re the one that ended it, Y/N?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You replied with a scoff. Rude. “It’s been fun but I’m out.” 

You got up from the table, grabbed your stuff and headed to the bar. You sat down and ordered your drink when the bartender came around. 

“I thought you didn’t like your sister’s friends.” A voice said from behind you.

You turned to see Billy standing behind you with a soft smile on his face. You looked over to where he was before and saw Curtis looking over. A girl took up the chair Billy previously occupied, offering you a small smile. He held up his beer and winked at you before talking to the girl next to him.

“Curtis got a new girlfriend, huh?” You asked Billy, offering him a spot next to you.

“Yeah. She’s great. She’s perfect for him.” Billy replied, making himself comfortable next to you. “Don’t change the subject. Why you out with your sister and her minions?”

You laughed and shook your head.

“She dragged me out. They’re trying to get me to ‘move on’.”

“How’s that working out?”

“They’re all the worst at it. All they’ve been doing is mooning over you.”

Billy raised an eyebrow at you before turning back to the table of girls. Their glares turned to smiles as Nadine and Layla waved at him.

“Surprised your sister isn’t. She’s been glaring daggers at me since she saw me.”

Of course he would notice you were there before you even noticed him. You chalked it up to the Marine in him. 

“I think she’s been angry at you since you came over here. She was fine while I was at the table.”

The two of you shared a chuckle and you both took a sip of your drinks.

“How’ve you been?” Billy asked you.

“Getting by.” You admitted with a sigh. “Still living with Jess so it’s had its ups and downs.”

“Y/N, I told you that I could stay elsewhere until you found a place you wanted.”

“The lease on the apartment is in your name. Besides, I was the one that moved in with you. It didn’t feel right to have you leave.”

The two of you sat in silence again, the only sound being the noises in the bar.

“How have you been, Billy?” You decided to ask.

“Honestly?” Billy offered. “Not too good. I never thought I’d say that. Ever.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because, Y/N. I’ve told you this before. Before you, I never really felt the way I feel about you when it came to other women. I didn’t really care much when they wanted to end things or when I ended things.”

“Feel? You still feel that way about me?” 

You wanted to slap yourself because of the hope that filled your voice. You knew Billy could hear it.

“Of course I do. We’ve only been apart for 2 months. If I’m still being honest, losing you was the most unbearable pain I’ve ever felt. Still is.”

You looked over to Billy in shock. He never tore his gaze from you and you could see nothing but the truth in them. Wow. You thought you knew but maybe you didn’t. 

“If you could do things different, would you?” You asked after taking a moment.

“In a heartbeat.”

The two of you held an intense gaze...yeah, you still definitely felt it.

“Y/N.” Jessica called you, causing you to break eye contact with Billy. 

You turned to look at her, where she stood a few feet away, her arms crossed. 

“We’re leaving. Come on.” She continued.

“I’m not ready to leave.” You told her.

“Well we are.” She motioned to herself and the table. “Anyway, aren’t you supposed to hang out with us?”

“No. I already told you I was out but you weren’t listening. You all were too busy fawning over Billy.”

Jessica’s glare found Billy before landing you once more.

“We’re leaving. Maybe you can find somewhere else to stay tonight like your ex’s place since I’m clearly wasting my time trying to help you.”

“Okay.”

You decided to leave it as that. You heard Jessica scoff and storm off, her heels clicking and clacking against the wooden floor. You knew she hated it when you ‘okay’ed her. Looks like you would stay at a hotel. Maybe you’d stop by tomorrow and grab your stuff and stay in said hotel until you found your own place. It was better and easier than living with her.

“Where are you gonna stay?” Billy asked casually.

“Hotel. It’s been a while since I’ve treated myself.” You shrugged. 

Billy was about to offer to pay for it but he decided not to. He knew you’d turn it down and make a comment about you being able to take care of yourself. While he knew that to be true, he still didn’t mind. It wasn’t out of obligation or guilt or anything. He just wanted to take care of you. He liked taking care of you.

“You want a ride?” He offered instead.

“Sure. That would be great, actually.”

Billy paid for your drinks, despite you insisting on paying for yours. Again, it wasn’t a big deal to him. Before you left, he checked in with Curtis to let him know you guys were leaving. After bidding him goodbye, the two of you got to Billy’s car and he drove towards the hotel you wanted to go to.

Even something as simple as this, a car ride, was missed. It felt normal despite no longer being a couple. You couldn’t help but think about what Billy said at the bar about changing things. It made you think about why you chose to end things with him.

=================================

You were putting the finishing touches on the table you had set up. You decided to cook Billy a special dinner before you were set to spend the weekend away at the Poconos. You lit the candles and checked the time. Billy should be home any minute now.

“Y/N?” Billy called out as he walked through the front door.

Billy looked around the dim room, slightly smiling to himself when he saw the candles on the table and the set up.

“Hey babe.” You smiled, walking over to him with two plates of food in your hand, kissing him.

“What’s all this?” 

“Just wanted to do something nice.” You walked to the table, placing the plates down. “I figured it would be a nice start to our weekend.”

Billy sighed, no longer smiling.

“About that.” He started. “I won’t be able to go away with you.”

“What? Why?” Your good mood was slowly beginning to deflate.

“Work. We got a last minute security job for the senator. I have to stay here.”

“Billy.” You forced a smile for a brief moment before it faded. “I’m sure the boss won’t mind considering you are the boss.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But the company needs this. Do you know how big this could be for business? I need you to support me on this.”

You shook your head and ran a hand through your hair. It felt like every time you guys had plans, he was cancelling for Anvil. You understood, you really did as he was the owner and CEO but every job was a big deal. When would he stop cancelling on you and put you first for once? You felt like you’ve been taking a backseat to his job too much lately. It hurt.

“You said that I’d get to have you all weekend. Why can’t you just tell them you can’t go?” 

“Because it’s my job, and it’s important.” 

“And I’m not?”

“That’s--that’s not what I’m saying.” Billy was trying to keep from getting mad. 

“You might as well have.” You argued. “You’ve been doing this so much lately that I’m beginning to wonder if you even want me.”

“Are you kidding, of course I want you.”

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been putting your work over me. I’m tired of being second best.”

Billy paused, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t like how this was sounding.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Does it matter? Because you’re gonna do what you want anyway.” 

Billy didn’t like how defeated you sounded. 

“I’m tired of this, Billy. Maybe it’s time we call it on this relationship.” You continued.

“Hold on, wait a minute--” Billy started.

“I think it’s best for both of us if we break up. We’re both going in two different directions.”

“Y/N, please, hold on.”

You walked away from him, heading to the door and grabbing your purse and jacket.

“I’ll be back soon to get my things.”

“Y/N, I--”

He paused when he saw that you started crying. He knew there was nothing he could say to fix this. It seemed like you had thought about this for a while. He watched as you walked out of the door. Fuck. What did he do?

=================================

“You mind if I walk you to your room?” Billy asked after you checked in, room key in hand. “Make sure you get there safe?”

“I don’t remember hiring you to protect me.” You lightly teased.

“It’s part of the ‘free ride’ package where everything is free.” He smiled at you brightly.

You laughed and shook your head. Oh, that smile of his would be the death of you. He could almost always get you to say ‘yes’ to anything with that smile. 

“Lead the way then.”

The two of you walked to your room, talking about what's new in your lives. You haven’t felt at rest like this since before you and Billy split. You missed this.

And dammit, you still missed him.

“This is you.” Billy said as you both came to a stop to your room. “May I?” He held his hand out for the room key.

You gave it to him and he unlocked it for you. You found yourself confused when he walked in, looking around the room, some of his actions over exaggerated.

“What are you doing?” You laughed.

“Making sure you get full use of your ‘free ride’ package. Room’s secure.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. It felt like one of the most genuine in a while. You knew Billy took his job seriously but that didn’t mean he didn’t have fun with it when it came to you. Plus, you remember telling him once that he’s too serious when it came to work that sometimes it came home with him. You liked his playful side...and it caused him to embrace a different, silly side to himself that he was most comfortable with showing you. 

“Well, thank you, Lieutenant.” You saluted him.

Billy smiled at you. God, he wanted to badly to kiss you right now. He had to stop himself...you weren’t together anymore.

“I better get going.” 

“Okay.”

“It was good to see you. We should get coffee tomorrow or something.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

You walked Billy to the door, the two of you pausing at the threshold. You gave him a hug, one that lasted longer than it should.

“Don’t forget to lock the door behind me.” Billy reminded you, something he always did when you were together. You never know in New York, even with a protected home like theirs.

“I know, I know.”

Billy walked out the door and waited to hear the door lock behind him. With a sigh, he headed back to his car.

You on the other hand, waited by the door for a moment before you went to sit on the bed.

It was very clear to you that there was still something between the two of you. You knew he meant it earlier when he said he would change how things went before the break up. You could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. Maybe things could work out between the two of you. Maybe you could get back together.

You began to take off your shoes and get settled in when there was a knock on your door. You went over and looked through the peephole, unlocking it immediately.

“Billy, wh--” You started.

You were cut off when Billy’s lips met yours. You kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you closer to him. Holy shit, you missed this; you missed the feeling of his lips on yours; you missed the feeling of his body against yours.

“I couldn’t leave without doing that.” Billy told you, his forehead resting against yours as you pulled back from the kiss.

“I’m glad you came back.” 

“I screwed up before. I was stupid because you were right. But know that I always wanted you. I still do. If you’ll let me, I promise to do better; to be better.”

“I’ll let you. I promise to do better too. I should be more supportive--”

“No, no, no. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve been nothing but supportive and I took advantage of that.” Billy cupped the side of your face, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “Things will be different. I promise. I meant it when I said I would change things in a heartbeat.”

“I know you did.”

Billy offered you a soft smile before he kissed you deeply. He kicked the door closed behind him before he picked you up and carried you over to the bed, laying you down gently. He’d make sure you knew exactly how much you were wanted.

[harryandmolly]

Complicit // 8

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, NSFW (the kind that anon politely asked me not to write but I did it anyway -- this is your warning, sweet friend), alarming tenderness... and what comes after

WC: 6.9k

----------

S.M.: Can I ask you for something?

Penny wakes up to see a text sent at 2:30am on the morning of her day date with Shawn. He requested the day date specifically -- he’s been in Europe for a week for a festival in Helsinki and his body clock is so fucked up he feels sick when he tries to figure out what day it is.

He has the day to himself before he has a Bex outing planned for that evening -- drinks at The Nice Guy, some kissing and maybe a little minor groping outside the cars as they leave conspicuously together. He wants to spend those hours before, his hours, with Penny.

Orthodontist: You may.

S.M.: Can we be cozy? I want to see you but I’m fucking wiped out. Cozy sweats day?

Penny frowns at the frantic tugging in her gut, the one Silver trained to save her from something all escorts go through at one point or another, the one that should make her wary of the potential intimacy of something like this. Penny clears her throat and lets her thumbs fly.

Orthodontist: Of course. See you soon.

She’s paid to give the client what they want. If they want the girlfriend experience, that’s what she’ll do. It’s not unique to Shawn, anyway. Plenty of clients have asked for lower key dates once they get comfortable with her. She understands that, the need for that kind of comfort. She used to need that, too.

But the tugging reminds her of the other circumstance. Shawn requested a house call. Again, not unique to him at all. But she has this funny feeling that if Silver took a look at her schedule and saw the date herself, she’d make that carefully concerned-but-not-too-concerned-because-you’re-a-grown-up-and-my-business-partner face. She loves Silver endlessly, but that face makes her feel small.

Penny shakes her head, but just minutely in case he’s watching her walk up through the window. She focuses on the date, on being prepared for whatever he may need from her when she walks through that door.

Client’s needs. Client’s needs.

Penny lets it take over like a mantra as she parks her normal car, the leased white 2021 Passat, beside his Tesla in his driveway like she’s done it a million times. She walks up the steps and rings the doorbell, tucking her hands into the front pocket of her Ivy Park hoodie, trying to look anywhere but right at his front door.

When it swings open, she feels like her heart has spilled out onto her shoes. He’s in a pair of green and blue plaid pajama pants that are inexplicably a little long and pooling around his ankles, despite his impressive height, and a big, loose t-shirt. His hair is wet. He smells like warm soap. His smile is soft and flat. He stands aside to let her in.

“Hi, Penny.”

She hides the full body shiver by doing a quick turn like she’s interested in looking around his foyer. She plasters on a smile.

She’s in his house.

“Hi, Shawn.”

He reaches a hand for her. She knows it’ll be soft and hot from his shower. She braces herself to take it. He tugs her forward, the corner of his mouth lifting as he pulls her in for a kiss. She nearly trips into him, her Ugg moccasins bumping into his bare toes as his nose nudges hers and it’s so startlingly intimate that she purrs into his mouth like he’s not paying for her time.

He curls his hands around her hips and starts to lead her into the house. She follows, taking tiny steps between his feet as he continues kissing her -- quick, open-mouthed kisses.

“Can I just keep kissing you for a while?” he asks, his teeth clanging against hers as he smiles, his eyes shut. She gives him a breathy hum and a nod in response. He guides them through his house blind, ignorant of her curious eyes scanning the area as they go. Her hand rises from his shoulder to cup the back of his head just before it smacks into his closed bedroom door.

He grunts, reaching for the handle to let them in. It’s dark inside -- he’s got those good blackout curtains, the heavy ones that turn any room into a cave. It’s pleasantly cool with a haphazardly made up squishy gray duvet on the bed, nondescript but cozy. Shawn reaches for a lamp on the dresser and it casts the room in a warm orange glaze of light. He sighs contentedly on the way back to her lips. She feels it in her bones as she wraps around him.

She steps out of her moccasins to rise higher on her toes to meet him. His hands wander, curiously, not hungrily, over the worn cotton surface of her hoodie. He sits on the edge of the bed and pulls her in, tucking her around him to straddle him. Penny goes willingly, settling low enough on his thighs that she’s not plastered up against him, but perched comfortably in his lap.

Penny gives Shawn a breather by tucking kisses down his jaw and into his neck. The marks she left last time have all faded back into lightly bronzed summer skin. She kisses and sucks gently, not enough to bruise. Shawn’s fingers twist into the ends of her hair, pulling more teasingly than desperately.

Over his shoulder she spies several ripped up citrus peels on his night stand -- tangerines, she thinks. They have extra bits of pith picked off and spread on top. They explain the bright fruity taste of his mouth. 

Penny closes her eyes again and feels him shiver as her teeth graze his jugular. She thinks she could’ve lived without knowing he peels the extra bits of pith off his citrus.

Penny separates from his wet skin with a deep inhale, pressing her hands into his chest to push him back. He goes with a soft smile. Her good boy knows better than to grab at her to drag her with him.

She folds herself over him, gazing between his lips and his flooded brown eyes when he stops her, grunting a little as he raises his chin.

“Where did all these come from?”

He’s staring up at her in wonder, just below her eyes. Her brow furrows. She leans onto one hand to lift her fingers up to graze her nose.

“My freckles?

He beams so wide and lazy it makes her smile too without knowing what they’re grinning about.

“Yeah. You’ve been hiding these under makeup?”

She shrugs.

He lets his eyes trail over the course of them -- a heavy sprinkle over her nose and cheekbones, growing sparse and light down her cheeks.

Shawn closes his eyes and sighs. “Didn’t think you could get prettier.”

Penny dips her head to kiss the spot between his collarbones, tugging at the collar of his shirt to reach it.

“How was Finland?” she finally stammers, needing to put something between them and… this.

“Weirdly hot. And the food was really good.”

She doesn’t bother to point out that she’s been there with the Aston Martin guy. Instead, she nods and watches his blinks get slower and slower. 

She wets her lips. “It must’ve been nice to have a break.”

His eyes refocus on her. He stares questioningly.

“From the American press, I mean. I’ve seen a lot of you and Bex lately. Which I guess means that’s going the way it was planned.”

She doesn’t sound bitter or flippant, just matter-of-fact. Shawn ignores the tiny voice that wishes he could accuse her of jealousy. He knows he wouldn’t like her response if he did.

“Yeah,” he hums, “Her album sales have gone up. Mine are projected to be… pretty good.”

He’s being modest. His album is one of the single most anticipated releases of the fall. But thinking about that makes him want to throw up so he chooses to suck on her bottom lip again, re-memorize the little dip in the middle where he likes to flick his tongue.

“It’s ok, you know,” she breathes after he pulls back, “That you don’t want to talk about it with me. I understand it’s… maybe confusing.”

Shawn shakes his head. “It’s not that. Honestly, I’m better talking about it with you than anyone else. I know you’d never judge me.”

She smiles, a little warm, a little sad. “It’s true. The prostitute can’t be throwing stones at any glass… anything.”

Shawn actually chuckles. It’s odd how quickly it happened, but he’s long since gotten used to the notion that she’s a paid sex worker. He probably got over it somewhere around the third orgasm. He knows what Niall meant now about it being like a form of therapy. The stigma doesn’t bother him like it once did.

He lowers his gaze to the strings on her hoodie. “I guess I just like mostly pretending it’s not happening. It’s not… it’s not like I’m miserable around her. She’s a nice girl, she’s fun. But I built a whole relationship with my fans on always being honest. I told them everything, I promised I always would. I gave them everything. Because they’ve given me everything.”

Penny nods. “You made those promises as a teenager. Your life hasn’t been simple in a long time, but it sure as hell was simpler then. You’re a grown man now. No real adult’s life is so easily lived in the spotlight. I know you know that, you’ve lived through some of that already. The rest of the world has to figure out how to deal with you now, how to approach you differently. I don’t think they’ll need much more time. The Bex thing, as much as I know it makes you squirm, it’s working.”

Shawn closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath, feeling it rattle in his chest as tears threaten. He’s so fucking tired.

“It’s working,” he agrees in a croak.

Penny knows enough to move on now. She slides up his body so their heads are level. She teases his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue.

“Your bed is comfy,” she coos, rocking from side to side with a grin.

Shawn seems grateful for the distraction. “You like it?”

“I do. Your place is nice. It’s big but cozy, like you.”

Shawn smiles, releases a little chuckle through his nose. “It’s nice like this… with you. In sweats and t-shirts, just… y’know. It’s easy.”

Penny’s smile grows a little dangerous in that way he loves. “Who said I was gonna make it easy, baby?”

Shawn groans. “You never do. It’s what I like about you.”

Penny purrs, ducking her face back into his neck, on the other side this time as he cradles her. Her fingers sneak up under his shirt, teasing the soft hair on his stomach that trails into his pajama pants. He releases a breath into her hair as his muscles contract.

“What can I do for you, baby? What would you like?”

She usually chooses for them. He usually wants her to. But she must have sensed that he was holding back, wanting to ask. He sighs.

“In the shower I was thinking about… after the cock ring. What we did after.”

Penny’s eyebrows raise. Her heart picks up pace against her ribs. She stays cool and purses her lips.

“What was it we did after, Shawn?”

Shawn’s cheeks start to flush. He rolls his eyes. “You want me to tell you I want you to fuck me in the ass?”

Penny’s eyes go bright with delighted shock. She laughs, “That’s exactly what I want.”

Shawn, never one to deny Penny what she wants, manages to get his mouth around the words, his eyes sliding shut. “I want it, Pen. I want to take your cock like a good boy.”

Penny growls before he even gets the words out. She drops her weight against him, rocking her hips automatically in a way that gets him groaning into her plundering mouth. Before they can get too lost in their almost teenage humping, warmth trapped under layers of clothes, Penny straightens up on her arms, perched over him.

“Did you get ready for it in the shower?”

He nods and glances around his room like he’s just realized something.

“Where’s your suitcase?”

She grins. “I traveled light today. I brought a purse.”

He eyes her. “You… have a strap on in your Prada bag?”

Penny tilts her head. “I’m always prepared.”

She sits up in his lap and stretches her arms up, shedding the bulky hoodie, bare underneath. Shawn whines so loud his torso clenches. 

He pants, “Can I touch your nipples?”

Penny nods, continuing her hips’ assault against his. She rolls against him, feeling him go fully hard under the thin flannel fabric of his pants, angling herself so his cock slips against her swollen cunt through her leggings. Shawn’s hands go straight to her breasts, cupping their fullness and positioning his thumbs right over her hard buds, the ones he treated so well he made her come without touching her perfect pussy. He smirks at the memory.

“Thinking about it, baby? About how hard you had me coming just with your pretty mouth on my tits?”

Shawn’s head falls back as he mewls. He loves it when she gets mouthy like this. She’s excited, he can feel it. He thinks maybe she likes pegging him as much as he likes being pegged by her.

Shawn scrapes the tips of his fingernails against her nipples like she likes and it’s like striking a match. Her back stiffens, she groans, loud and deep. He watches them go diamond hard between his fingers, squeezing a little just to get a last dirty thrust of her hips against his before she really goes to work on him. She knows his game and gives him a crooked grin. 

“Are you gonna be a good boy or a brat?”

Shawn’s pearly teeth sink into his swollen, wet lip. He nods. “I’ll be so good, Pen. Gonna be your good boy. The best.”

Her lips twitch. She blinks quickly, startled with the words that almost come slipping out of her mouth.

You’re already the best I’ve ever had.

Penny lays her hands over his much larger ones on her chest and peels them away, dropping them beside his cherubic curls. She moves her hands down to rest against the firm stillness of his chest, his steady heartbeat singing for her. His fingers twitch but he remains quiet beneath her, watching her, wondering about her.

Her fingers stretch and relax, scrunching at the fabric of his t-shirt. He lifts his hips invitingly, just grazing her, offering himself to her. Like in case she forgot how much he wants her and needs her, he’s there to remind her.

Penny lowers herself against him slowly and flips them, his arm tucked beneath her, his knees bracketing her legs to hold his weight. She reaches down and lifts the hem of his shirt, wriggling him out of it. She’s hit with a wall of him, warm naked chest and the perfectly Shawn scent that comes with it. It’s the purest version -- devoid of cologne or weed or the incense Cez sometimes burns. It’s his soap, his breath, his shampoo, his skin. She gasps greedy lungfuls, sinking her hands into the easily defined ridges of his back as she grapples with a way to steady herself.

She closes her eyes away from his prying ones and pushes her hands down his hips to shove at the fabric of his pajama pants. With a few heavy grunts, he manages to slip out of those, too, his old plaid boxers going with them. He fights to keep himself from grinding down against her. He can smell how wet she is for him already through her leggings. He slams his eyes shut and struggles to breathe.

He opens them again when he hears her shuffling around beneath him. In a squirm of fabric and freckled skin, she sheds her leggings and whatever panties she had on beneath. For once, he finds he doesn’t care what they look like. He just aches at the sight of her bare and wet, her limbs threading around him like sun-darkened vines.

“How are you always so tan?” he breathes, his mouth tugging up at the corner. Penny grins lazily, her eyes heavy.

“I sunbathe naked on my patio while I listen to audiobooks.”

Shawn is seized by the image, at once so, so painfully sexy and somehow also domestic and warm, like if he spent a few seconds longer with it he could imagine being back there with her, sharing a bottle of wine, playing his guitar for her.

But he definitely doesn’t let himself get that far.

Instead, he buries his face in her neck and inhales. “Fucking gorgeous.”

Penny brings a hand firmly down his spine from his neck to his lower back, squeezing for his attention. “Hold on a second.”

Shawn eases back, blinking curiously. Penny slides out from beneath him. On little brown tiptoes, she hops to the window and peeks out curiously. Once she’s had a look, she glances back over her shoulder at him. His brow lifts.

Penny lifts back the curtains, flooding the room in midday Californian sun. Shawn winces and blinks, turning his cheek. She tucks the curtains back, revealing his view, the rolling, blank green of the Hollywood Hills. Shawn’s lips part like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. Penny turns to face him.

“I want to see you in the sunlight.”

Shawn trembles with a shiver as she approaches the bed slowly, perching on the end, cupping his cheek so her thumb runs along the lower edge of his cheekbone. 

He can see every freckle. He can see every little smile line. He can see a little ridge-like scar on her temple that he doesn’t know the story of. He can see the way her skin glows like she’s absorbing the sunlight she craved for him. He can see everything.

And so can she. The only natural light she’s seen him in has been cloudy, dusky, early morning light that lovers sleep through, or shrouded by curtains that forgive the sharp edges of shadows and direct sun. She left no room for it here. She can’t believe she never noticed how pink he is, all over. She’s seen it in his cheeks and chest, and on occasion in the skin she’s abused to the point of sweet red welts, but never like this where she gets to see the true permanent almost-blush that sits ready under the surface at all times. It’s breathtaking.

They both know they’re spending too much time openly studying each other, but the opportunity is too tempting to ignore. It’s Penny that breaks first, dropping kisses into his shoulder as she crawls over him, pressing him back into the mattress with a deep sigh.

Through the soft graze of his chest hair, she flicks at his hard little nipples with her tongue, enjoying the way he arches into her with a little huff of air. She keeps on, nose brushing all the petal pink skin she finds on her way down, punctuating with wet presses of her lips until she reaches the dark swirls of pubic hair that trail from his navel downward. His chest shudders hard as her breath displaces the hair and her hands find the soft insides of his thighs to push them apart for her to settle between. His cock twitches with interest, just gone fully hard against his stomach. She brushes her lips along the shaft, lips parted in a curious smile. Her hand reaches back to the bench off the foot of the bed. Shawn’s eyes snap shut at the sound of the bottle of lube opening and shutting. 

Penny’s lips are followed by just the tip of her tongue. Her tracing is gentle, intimate like the touch of a finger along the throbbing vein, then to the sensitive head of his cock. Her fingers warm the lube between them with audible wet strokes that make Shawn’s brows pull together in anticipation.

Her lips join her tongue again at the base of his cock. Her fingertips press gently against his perineum. His inhale sizzles through his nose loudly. She rubs little circles, firming up in pressure as her mouth moves in a wet pattern up to the head of his cock. It slips between her lips. Shawn’s fingers sink into the squish of his duvet.

“Fuck,” he breathes in disbelief, lifting his knees to plant his feet before she can ask him to. 

She works her tongue in swirls around the head of his cock as her fingers draw the same motion around his hole. Just as she slurps at his tip, she sinks a finger in to the first knuckle.

Shawn sighs comfortably, less tense now than he was when they first began exploring this together. She slips it in and out a few times before burying it further. His head tips back and draws out a moan that’s as honest and selfless as she’s ever heard him. It urges her on.

As Penny curls her finger, stroking upward, Shawn loses himself further. He turns his cheek against the pillow, nuzzling as he presses his ass into the bed. His dark eyes fixate on her, on the way she watches him when she slides a second lubed finger inside him, moving so preciously slowly, treating him with so much care it sucks the breath out of his lungs into more breathy moans. She alternates attending to the head of his cock with her wet mouth and pressing kisses to his shaft, keeping the main focus on the talent of her perfect little fingers. She scissors them apart slightly, stretching him to get ready for the toy, grinning at the way his toes curl.

“Penny, baby, feels so good,” he grunts, shaking his head in disbelief. She hums her agreement. She has her own fondness for this, feeling the tight, welcoming warmth with him, feeling the trust grow ever stronger as he puts more of himself in her care with each breath.

Penny licks a drop of precome from his tip and watches her free hand spread to trail up his chest and rest over his heart. It’s thrumming hard, not too hard, not enough to make her back off for fear of ending it early. She wants to take this time nice and slow for him now that he knows how much he likes it and asked her for it. She focuses the press of her thumb into his perineum while her fingers flex and curl.

“Fucking… yeah, Penny, Jesus,” he pants slightly, fisting the sheets on either side of him. She can feel and see the sheen of sweet sweat on his chest and abdomen. He’s almost ready.

“Baby,” she breathes, her voice hoarse from disuse and the weight of her own arousal, “You want my cock?”

He’s not so bashful this time as the first time she asked. He nods first, closing his eyes to find his voice.

“Baby, Penny, please. Fuck me.”

Her toes curl in anticipation. She rolls her hips needily into the bed. Shawn watches with a growling moan. His body protests the careful removal of her fingers and she knows he wants his hands on his aching cock but one look from her reminds him she hasn’t given him permission. Instead he squirms against the bed watching her lift the strap on harness out of the pouch and step into it. Her wetness makes a sound as she separates her legs. She bites her lip at his eager gasp.

“Nice and wet, Pen? Gon-gonna come when you fuck me?”

She tightens the harness around her hips and thighs and considers him through heavy lidded eyes. She flips her feathery dark hair out of her face and cups her fist around the base of the dark green silicone toy.

“Would you like that? Wanna feel me come with you?” Her breath breaks off at the end. Shawn lifts his head and nods again, more fervently.

“Baby, I always want to feel you come. I need to make you come. Please.”

Penny feels his urgency and steps to the end of the bed, reaching for the bottle again. She slicks the toy down with a generous handful of lube. Shawn pokes the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he watches, knees still bent, legs still spread. 

As she lifts a knee onto the end of the mattress, Shawn comes up on his elbows and readies to turn over. She reaches out and grabs his leg to stop him. The first time she took him like this, he was on his knees with her behind him. He’s surprised when she has him lift his hips to settle a pillow beneath them and angle him up toward her. She pulls his thick thighs over hers and nudges him with the head of the slick toy. He exhales slowly, nodding.

Penny goes perfectly slow for him, watching the flutter of his lashes as he adjusts to the fit of it inside him. She sinks gently until she’s buried, her hips snug against his thighs. Shawn focuses on his breathing and the way the ends of her hair tickle his chest as she leans forward.

Penny eases her hips through a circular motion that has the toy grinding into him a little harder. His eyes fall shut. He whines, high and sweet.

“Yeah, baby?” she coos.

“So good,” Shawn sighs, opening his eyes again when he feels her thumbs rubbing similar circles into the insides of his thighs. He’s noticed she has a thing for matching patterns in the way she touches him to heighten sensation. He offers her a lazy, fucked-out grin as she continues the slow sway of her hips.

“Have you ever tried this?” he whispers, nodding at her.

Penny bites at her lower lip like she’s not sure. The coyness is a reflex. She shakes it off.

“Yeah. I like it, too. With the right partner.”

Shawn smiles. His thighs tremble. Her hips have picked up their easy pace. She grips him a little harder as she rocks into a pulsing motion that has her sliding in and out a bit more obviously.

Shawn groans. “Holy… shit.”

He’s wordier when she’s inside him than he usually is. She likes that, makes it feel like he’s even more free than usual, like his thoughts come out through his mouth rather than the alternative of getting stuck to rattle in his brain.

Penny eases forward onto one hand by his head. Her breasts hang, her nipples grazing his chest as she strokes in and out more purposefully. Shawn’s eyes fall shut and his head lolls back. His mouth drops open in a low cry of pleasure.

“Shit… f-fuck,” he sobs, feeling the welcome heat of this with her singe him all over. He grips the sheets harder.

“Can touch me if you want,” she pants, her breath broken up by the strain of her thrusts and the way they bump right up against her swollen clit in the way she likes.

Shawn’s fingers are flushing red as the blood seeps back in. He lifts one to cup her shoulder blade and the other around the back of her head. The motion focuses her eyes down on his, up from where she’s pressing into him.

His eyes are heavily glazed and his lips are parted and wet. Before she thinks about it too hard, she dips down to lavish them with kisses. The change of angle has Shawn nearly purring into her mouth, his legs spreading wider to welcome her closer.

“Baby, oh my god,” he hisses, his curls shivering against his forehead as she mouths at the edge of his jaw.

“Like it like this?” she croaks, fucking in and out of him a little faster, “No one’s ever made you feel this fucking good.”

It’s not edged with the cocky lilt her words take on when she’s giving it to him good in bed. There’s a note of desperation. The need to praise and validate her roars up in Shawn’s chest so strong he gasps a breath to speak.

“No one,” he agrees in a rough sigh, “Fucking-- oh. No--nobody, baby, you’re the only one. Penny, you’re the only one.”

With a satisfied moan, Penny reaches between them and wraps her fingers around the head of his cock. Her hips swing harder, wringing a pretty gasping cry from him with each one. She pulses her fingers around him in time, ready to feel him come apart at the seams.

Shawn feels her lips brushing his. He blinks lazily, almost too far gone to speak, but the look in her eyes makes him whisper, “Come with me. Please.”

Penny’s responding breathy whimper sends him right over the edge. He stifles a scream as his entire body goes beautifully tight and he releases between their stomachs and into her small, wet fist. She breathes through it, right up against his lips like they should be kissing but breathing each other in is enough. Suddenly, with an erratic flick of her hips that has Shawn holding her a little tighter, Penny whines his name and it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever heard. She rows up against him again and again, riding through the orgasm he’d give her a thousand more times if she asked until she’s spent and collapsed against his chest, the toy still inside him.

Shawn lifts his heavy arms around her, smiling like a dope into her hair. He smoothes her hair down her back. It falls so far it brushes her cute round ass, so he massages that, too.

Penny peels up enough to look at him. She smiles and bumps her nose up against his lips.

“Wow,” she chuckles.

“Uh huh,” he grunts back, the same amusement in his voice. He cradles her between his legs, propping his chin up on the top of her head.

Penny starts easing her hips back to Shawn’s little noises of protest. She sheds the harness and grabs a wet washcloth to clean them both off. She tosses it in the hamper and crawls up beside him, still bathed in warm morning light, his arm open to the side to welcome her. She’s just settled up against him when she hears something.

“Hey now, hey nooooow! This is what dreeeeeeams are made of!”

Penny’s head shoots up. She always, always turns her personal phone ringer off when she’s on dates. She somehow forgot. Her head jerks as she looks to Shawn, who’s still wearing a look of dreamy calm.

“Nice ringtone.”

“Sorry, fuck-- I usually turn it off. It’s… that’s my brother’s ringtone.”

Shawn tilts his head curiously. “Answer it if you want. Does he know about me?”

The question is so shocking Penny forgets to think before she answers with a short nod.

“I mean… yeah. It’s-- I tell him everything. I mean not, everything everything. Obviously. But… he would die before telling anyone. I promise.”

Shawn’s face shifts at the look on Penny’s. He’s never seen her look so wide-eyed and sheepish. He strokes a hand comfortingly up her arm.

“Hey, it’s fine. I get it. Answer it, I really don’t mind.”

Penny hesitates a moment longer, then launches off Shawn’s chest to get to her purse. With impressive flexibility, she reaches off the end of the bed and hits the answer button before the ringer ends.

“Hey,” she pants.

“You know what absolutely blows?” Peter barks. He’s so loud Penny is sure Shawn can hear every word but he looks out the window politely.

“What?”

“Data structures and functional programming!” Peter wails. A clunk in the background sounds like a textbook falling shut.

“Don’t tell me you got a B+ on a test again,” Penny jabs, eyeing Shawn with a mischievous smile. His nose twitches over a shy grin now that he realizes he’s allowed to listen.

“No, god no, don’t joke about that,” Peter hisses, “Hot TA finally, FINALLY asked me out.”

Penny’s eyes pop. “What? That’s great! He’s so cute!”

“So, so cute,” Peter agrees in a strained voice, “But my data structures professor moved our test up because he got asked to speak at some conference in Bern. The summer semester break is about to start and hot TA is starting an internship in Hong Kong until September!”

Shawn’s eyebrows raise curiously. Penny bites her lip over a smile, her cheeks catching pink at this odd collision of her personal and professional lives.

“Peter, fuck the test. You have an A. Even if you fail it, you won’t fail the class.”

Shawn chuckles, sitting upright to listen closer.

“But--” Peter begins.

“No,” Penny interrupts sternly, “Don’t do the thing. Don’t use me as a way to argue with yourself. You’re in college, Pete. There’s plenty of time to take over the world with your impressive brain later. Go get laid, for the love of god.”

Shawn laughs, loud and delighted. Penny giggles.

There’s a pause. Peter says, “Who is that? Silver?”

Penny wets her lips and lowers her gaze to Shawn’s legs. “No.”

Another pause. “Oh my god, are you on a date?”

Penny chews the inside of her lip. Her silence is enough confirmation.

“Oh my god,” Peter cries, scandalized. There’s another crash -- this time it sounds like a computer chair smacking into a wooden desk, “You answered your personal cell on a date?”

Shawn looks even more intrigued. He leans further forward and bites his lip. Penny reaches out and plucks at a curl on his forehead.

“Shawn doesn’t mind.”

Peter’s overdramatics reach new heights with his squealing cry in reaction. Shawn laughs again, going pink from the chest. Penny crawls into his lap, feeling mysteriously smug -- perhaps at the disproving of her longtime theory that if ever her two worlds should meet, chaos would immediately follow. Shawn gathers her up on his lap and brushes his nose against her collarbone, sweeping his lips against her neck.

“Are you seriously post-coital with Shawn Peter Raul Mendes and taking a phone call from meeee?” His voice has gone all squeaky so the final drawn out vowel makes her cringe.

“Why do you know his full name?” she laughs. Shawn snorts a chuckle and it vibrates her throat. She hums comfortably.

“My god, my god, get off the phone. Bitch, I will hang up on you. Go get that mans. Get that good Canadian rock star dick, what the fuck.”

Shawn laughs harder and he’s close enough to the phone that Peter cries out at the sound.

“Shawn, for the love of all that’s unholy, do something to get her off the phone.”

Shawn lifts his head and considers the challenge. Penny is breathless, watching him lie back, taking her with him. He lifts her, scooting her up his chest until she’s perched over his head, her knees bracketing the pillow, phone still pressed to her ear.

“Hey, you’re still coming for that CalTech thing, right? I see you in a few weeks?” she breathes, gazing warmly down at Shawn as he tongues at the inside of her wet inner thigh. She sinks a hand into his curls to steer him. He goes willingly.

“Yeah, yeah in like a month,” Peter answers distractedly, “I put the flight on your Amex.”

Penny’s eyes fall shut when Shawn swipes his tongue up through her folds, flicking at her clit.

“Good boy,” Penny hums with a nod.

“Are you talking to him or me?!” Peter shrieks.

Penny grunts, glancing down at Shawn who locks his arms around her thighs and bears down. With a shaky inhale, she sighs.

“I don’t know anymore. Bye, Pete.”

She holds the phone away from her ear to hang up. She can hear more screaming as she hits the end call button.

+

Oh my GAWD! Shawn Mendes and Bex Get Hot and Heavy in Miami BETCH! -- Perez Hilton

Shawn Mendes and Bex Spotted Getting Steamy on Miami Beach -- People Magazine

Hottest Couple of the Summer! Shawn Mendes and Bex Making Waves In Miami! -- JustJared

+

Penny lifts her chin and controls her stride as she steps into the chilly hotel room at The Beverly Hills Hotel. With a nod back at Gus, the door shuts behind her.

He’s tall. Extraordinarily tall. He’s probably at least 6’5”. He’s a Nordic god with crisp blue eyes and a swath of blonde hair that falls shaggy but controlled around his shoulders. His body is lean and smooth, well trained but hard and a little unwelcoming somehow. Penny’s lips curl into a smile.

“Miss Penny,” he breathes in lightly accented English, “You’re a vision.”

Penny’s upper lip puckers. She tucks some falling curls behind her ear and steps closer, dwarfed but unintimidated by her new client.

“Mr. Larsen. You’re every bit as handsome as you appear in Forbes.”

He’s flattered by her easy softball of a compliment. She can tell by the way he preens for it that he believes her words. She looks down at the glass of gin in his fist. She looks back up at him and smiles again, walking around him to prepare her own.

“I was very eager to receive your recommendation from a colleague,” he says, easing around the chaise to stand behind her. He’s not hovering, exactly, or at least not close enough to make her uncomfortable. She’s aware of the shimmery body oil she rubbed on the bare skin of her back, accented by her low cut cocktail dress.

Aston Martin guy referred him, Silver told her. She knows the type. Elegant and refined. Not terribly interested in small talk before clothes come off. Gets called ‘daddy’ by the girls he brings home from bars and events but needs a strong woman to hold him down and ride him hard to feel balanced.

It’s easy. No challenge. No problem to solve. Penny sighs. It escapes his notice.

She turns while dropping a wedge of lime into her sweating glass. Her eyes rake him from head to toe. He takes it as an invitation to step closer.

“Good word of mouth is crucial to my business model,” she agrees coolly, taking a sip. It’s not as strong as she’d like.

His smile is vaguely unpleasant. He’s the kind of guy she’d tell the La Splendeur girls to avoid when out in the wild. He steps closer.

“I’ve heard very good words about your mouth.”

Penny’s low exhale takes the place of the eyeroll she’d give if she weren’t being paid so handsomely. She can’t blame his native tongue for the too-smooth, cheesy pun. This guy was probably Oxford or Cambridge educated. He speaks better English than she does. He’s just fucking boring.

Penny drops a finger into her drink, curling it slightly, watching his eyes follow the motion. Too easy.

She brings it to her lips and sips the gin off her finger. She doesn’t even like gin. He licks his chops like she’s a meal.

She puts her glass down.

“Get on your knees, Mr. Larsen.”

+

Whiplash.

It’s the only word for the feeling he’s had for days on agonizing days.

Penny crawled out of his bed and left her scent behind in his sheets after a few more traded orgasms and more shared kisses than usual. In a sexed out daze, Shawn heads into the lion’s den. He’s never seen so many paps outside The Nice Guy. The cold snapping of their shutters knocks him back into reality. The high he rides after a few hours with Penny is cut criminally short.

He cradles Bex close under his arm. He wets his lips and leans in when she whispers in his ear. He smiles, makes it melt like butter, and brushes his lips over hers. It’s stomach-turningly tender.

There’s more obvious canoodling outside the bar. Even with his eyes shut and her sucking on his lower lip in an objectively satisfying way, the flashes have him on edge.

He returns home to a bed that smells like something that feels imagined. It’s somehow even less real to him than the carefully orchestrated farce he’s been living.

Because it can’t be real. There’s no trace of her besides the sunny breath of perfume in his pillows that makes him choke up inexplicably when he buries his face in it before sleep mercifully knocks him out.

He can’t see her. He has trouble picturing her pretty face despite all the time he’s spent staring at it. He claws at it -- freckles. Tiny forehead scar. Slender ankles. Weirdly pointy but still cute knees. The laugh. He can’t remember the real laugh, the one that fizzes like expensive champagne, the kind he only drinks with her. He can’t hear it.

Even if he could manage to cling to all these pretty things, it can’t be real. What’s in the headlines is real. The album sales, the festival numbers, the hashtag stats -- those are real. As fake as it all is, it’s real. It’s more real than the nothing he has with a woman he pays to sit on his face.

His career is real. His album is real. His family, his life is real.

The rest of it is distraction.

-----------

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[theskyeandsea]

Out of the Dark || Shiloh & Skylar

Location: Skylar’s Apartment

Notes: Takes Place During the Darkness. Shiloh decides to surprise Skylar and the two have an unexpected conversation.

TW List: Chronic Illness CW

Shiloh had been thinking about Skylar (sometimes she’s not sure when she isn’t) and as a result, when she got home from work, she decided she wanted to pay her a visit. Having been to her place before - albeit drunk - she could recall where she had lived. Still, Shiloh knew better than to show up empty handed. Plus, she still felt like she needed an excuse to stop by other than the fact that she wanted to see her. She had expected to make sushi for dinner that day and so most of the preparations were made before work so by the time she came home all she really needed was to slice the fish and put it all together. She’d yet to make sushi for Skylar so there was a bit of anxiety over the idea of sharing it with her, but she did remember Skylar especially liked meat, so she made sure there was plenty of fish. Once it was all packed, she started to head over to Skylar’s place with a smile. She did have a moment in the car figuring out if she should message Skylar, but figured a surprise would be nice. A good surprise for once. With a smile still on her face, she knocked on Skylar’s door, the container of sushi rolls in her hands.

Today was… not one of her greatest days. As soon as Skylar had gotten home from work, she’d pulled on her softest sweater and sleep shorts and curled up on the couch for a nap. After everything she’d been through in the last week, her symptoms were hitting her hard. It seemed that stress only sped up the onset of her problems. What with her roommate suddenly disappearing on her without a word, the cannibal watermelon attack, and the continued darkness wearing on her nerves, she was exhausted. And on top of the fatigue, the pain was starting to come back. The aching in her bones, that no amount of sleep could fix, it was starting to affect her. And she didn’t… she didn’t want to change. She didn’t want to relive the memories that she’d experienced last time. When a knock came at her door, Skylar frowned, confused. Who could it be..? Padding barefoot across the room, she opened the door and stared wide eyed at Shiloh. Oh no. Oh god. Why was she here, now? Letting out a squeak of panic, Skylar shut the door quickly, mortified. 

Shiloh lit up at the sight of Skylar. “Hey -” And then the door was shut in her face. Shiloh blinked in confusion, trying to think of what could be wrong. She did notice Skylar looked different - comfortable. Tired. And she noticed this in the nicest way possible. Shiloh herself was exhausted but she really wanted nothing more than to see Skylar. She tried knocking again. “Uh, is everything okay, Skye?” She realized now it was pretty rude to show up unannounced like that. Was Skylar upset because of that? “I brought you some food,” she added weakly, looking down at the container in her hands, wondering if that was good enough for Skylar to open the door. “I can go?” Shiloh wasn’t sure what Skylar wanted but she definitely didn’t want to upset her.

Skylar squeezed her eyes shut tightly, her hands cupping her mouth as she tried not to freak out. Why was she visiting her, now of all times? She looked like a mess, her apartment was half dismantled, and… Shiloh was out in the hallway. And she’d just slammed the door in her face. Eyes flicking open, Skylar let out a long sigh. She couldn’t just leave her out in the hallway. Opening the door, Skylar winced apologetically. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that, I panicked.” She mumbled, not making eye contact. As she glanced around, she realized that Shiloh was holding something-- a tupperware? Had she brought food? A pang of guilt made Skylar swallow uncomfortably before glancing at the other woman. “I’m really sorry. Um. Did you want to come in?”

Shiloh could hear once Skylar began to talk that she didn’t have her hearing aids on. So she probably didn’t hear her outside the door. Which was kind of a relief. She could start over. “It’s okay.” She let out a breath of a laugh, finding the whole door slam kind of funny, now. Shiloh nodded at the question to come inside. “Yeah, but only if you want me to come in.” Shiloh would be okay to turn around and leave if that’s what Skylar wanted. She didn’t look okay, though and that made Shiloh want to stay. Pursing her lips, Shiloh looked down and opened the container to show Skylar what she had brought. She looked up at her. “I made you sushi.” She handed it out to her, just in case she wanted Shiloh to leave, she would have the sushi she had made her.

Reading Shiloh’s lips, Skylar’s finger fidgeted in the sleeves of her too-long sweater, playing with the hem. She had an out to tell Shiloh that she really wasn’t feeling well-- and it wouldn’t be a lie at all. She wasn’t feeling good and she really didn’t want her to see this side of her. But… Shiloh had come all this way and she’d even brought sushi. Guilt tugged at the pit of her stomach and she stepped back out of the doorway, “Mm, please, come in. I’m so sorry about that. Make yourself comfortable, I just need to grab my hearing aids.” She said. Once Shiloh had stepped inside, Skylar darted back to her room to grab her hearing aids, slipping them in before hurrying back out to the living room. “Sorry. I’d, um, been napping. The weird night time stuff has my sleep schedule all messed up.” She said with an awkward laugh.

Shiloh came inside, happy to hear she wanted her to stay. As Skylar left for a moment, Shiloh shut the door behind her, noticing that some things looked a little different from the last time. Did Skylar rearrange some things? She couldn’t quite tell what the difference was. As Skylar entered the room, she glanced back at her with a smile. “It’s fine, I didn’t mean to interrupt your nap, I’m sorry.” She felt really bad for that, hoping Skylar didn’t think she was rude. She walked over, the container of sushi still in her hands. “Here, for when you get hungry.” She handed it over, before leaning in to give Skylar a kiss.

“It’s okay, really. I needed to get up anyways. Otherwise, I’d just end up lying awake all night or something.” Skylar said with an embarrassed laugh. It wasn’t strictly true-- she was still exhausted. No matter how much she slept, she couldn’t shake the fatigue, the pain. Taking the container from Shiloh with a small smile, she was a bit surprised when she kissed her. Not in a bad way, but… just in a nervous way. Even though she’d told Shiloh about her seal situation, she was still very aware that she wasn’t human and didn’t want to do anything overtly weird. Her hands were slick in the sleeves of her sweater, a mixture of anxiety and her symptoms coming to the forefront. But, she tried to push the thoughts from her mind, focusing instead on how soft Shiloh’s lips felt against her. Pulling away, Skylar smiled, a bit wider this time. “Hi. I didn’t actually say that when you came in.”

Skylar’s smile made all the difference in the world and Shiloh felt like things were better, that she was better. “Hi.” Shiloh repeated with a short laugh. “Don’t worry though, I deserved it. I caught you off guard.” She looked up at Skylar, eyes softening as she took her in. She didn’t look too well and it worried Shiloh but man was she still beautiful and there was something about seeing Skylar like this way that made Shiloh feel warm all over. “Can we sit down?” Shiloh asked turning to look for Skylar’s couch before walking over to sit on it. “Hey, by the way did you move things around? It looks a little different from the last time I came here.” Then again it could have been the drunk haze that warped things. “Sorry, I probably am remembering it wrong anyway.” She chuckled, shaking her head. She hoped it didn’t sound too weird that she remembered what it looked like. It’s not like it was a night she wanted to forget anway. 

“No, no, it’s not your fault at all.” Skylar replied, shaking her head. It was her fault, really. She should have tried to play it off. But, she’d never been good at that. And, what with everything going on, her nerves were shot. Seeing Shiloh here, now, when she was like this? It just felt… weird. She didn’t want the other woman to know how bad things could get, she didn’t want her to see that side of her. “Mhm, that sounds good. I’ll just pop this in the fridge first.” She said. No one wanted warm sushi, not even her. Hearing Shiloh’s voice, Skylar’s face turned a bright shade of red and she was suddenly very glad that she was in the kitchen. “Oh. You’re not wrong. My roommate she… she moved out suddenly. So her things aren’t here anymore. It’s okay, though!” She said, trying to sound upbeat about it. When really, she had no idea what she was going to do.

Shiloh leaned back against the couch, waiting for Skylar to come join her. “Oh really? Is that allowed? I don’t know how leases work if I’m being honest.” She did wonder if that’s why Skylar appeared different. Did she not like living on her own? Was there something wrong financially? “Is everything okay, Skye?” It really wasn’t a question she felt comfortable asking but she really hoped Skylar would be honest with her. Ever since Skylar told her about the whole selkie thing, Shiloh had been feeling really confident about the whole thing but she knew that there were still some things they just hadn’t talked about. Work was stressful but they never got anywhere deeper than that kind of talk and Shiloh was willing to be patient and give Skylar time. Which is why she worried asking questions like that may appear as if she was pushing Skylar to do something she didn’t feel comfortable doing.

Settling next to Shiloh on the couch, Skylar chewed the inside of her cheek before responding, “She broke the lease-- it was an emergency, I don’t really blame her for it. But, it’s going to be okay. I’ve got it figured out.” She said with a nod. Did she though? Not really. Her plan for the time being was to try and sell some of her things, try and pick up more students who’d be interested in sign language, and just tough it out. She had some savings, but… she needed to find a roommate, soon. “It’s all good, really.” She said, though her smile was slightly wan, her expression was just a bit more tired than normal. “How have you been doing, with um… with all of this?” She gestured at one of the windows to the darkness that shrouded the town.

Shiloh moved closer to Skylar on the couch, listening to what she said. The whole situation did seem stressful. Shiloh couldn’t imagine what it must be like. A roommate leaving and suddenly Skylar would have to be the one paying for the cost of the whole apartment by herself? “Let me know if you need my help with anything.” She reached out, unable to get Skylar’s hand and opting to just set a hand on her knee. “I can spread the word if you need a new roommate. Help you interview them - anything you need, I’m here for it.” At the mention of the darkness, she looked out the window and sighed. “It’s annoying, makes it hard to work.” She returned her attention to Skylar. “It makes me a bit more vigilant than usual.” She shook her head. “I just can’t wait for it to be over.”

As Shiloh scooted closer to her, Skylar could feel her heart start to pound just a bit more. Her hands, already damp with slime, were only getting worse in the confines of her sweater. Balling her hands up into loose fists, she hoped that would be enough to stop the whole… nervous slime thing. But, the prospect of Shiloh offering to help her only made her stomach lurch. She didn’t want to be a burden, she could handle it herself. “Thanks. I’ll, um, I’ll be sure to let you know.” The sensation of Shiloh’s hand on her knee was comforting for a moment, before Skylar realized that… her legs had the thinnest sheen of slime as well. The moment she realized that, Skylar honestly wished that the floor would open up and swallow her. “It’s okay, really. But, thank you.” She smiled, doing her best to keep herself in calm. Maybe if she just calmed the racing of her heart, the slime would go away and it would be fine. “I’m glad that you’re being safe, though. It’s better to be more alert than not, given how dark it is. It’s hard to see much of anything around here, even with, um, my vision.”

“Oh right, your vision.” Shiloh remembered that Skylar had mentioned being able to see in the dark better than humans because of being a seal. “It does seem a bit darker than normal dark. I figured it’s just ‘cause we’re not used to seeing this kind of extended darkness.” Shiloh sighed looking back at Skylar. “Babe, what’s wrong?” She spoke softly, bringing a hand up to caress Skylar’s cheek, moving away stray strands of hair. “You look like something’s bothering you.” Shiloh only hoped it wasn’t rude of her to admit she was noticing something off but she really didn’t want Skylar to go through something alone, not when she was here. “You can tell me anything, Skye.” She kept her hand at Skylar’s neck, her thumb gently running across Skylar’s cheek, which she noticed was a little clammy but felt that would definitely be too rude to bring up and she was more concerned with what Skylar had to say than anything else.

“Mhm.” Skylar hummed in agreement, her hands still balled up in her sweater. She shifted a little on the couch-- the brief spike of anxiety and adrenaline from Shiloh’s sudden appearance had begun to fade and she was very aware of how exhausted she was. She honestly wasn’t sure how long she could keep up this conversation. The sudden term of endearment startled her, though and she blinked as the other woman gently reached out to her face. “I--” She started, but bit back her words. She didn’t want to put this on Shiloh. She didn’t want to show her just how not okay she really was. Wasn’t it bad enough that she wasn’t even a normal human? The pressure of her hand against her cheek was comforting, soothing, and she found herself leaning into the touch. Twisting her head to kiss Shiloh’s hand, Skylar took a deep breath. “I-- I’m not exactly okay. Right now.” She said, words coming out a bit choppy. How could she explain this? How could she explain any of what was happening? She didn’t know, but she had to try. “I’m, um, I’m a little sick right now. Because of my seal situation.”

Shiloh wondered what it could be and at this moment she wished she knew everything there was to know so she knew how to help her. “Is there any way I can help you? How are you getting sick?” Her worry was written all over her face as she started to wonder what was going on with Skylar. Were there supernatural hospitals? Did she need to go to a hospital? Shiloh chose not to overwhelm herself with questions and instead focus on what Skylar had to say and what she needed. Even if it was just a comforting word and touch from Shiloh, she’d be more than happy to give it to her.

Letting out a shaky breath, Skylar glanced up at the ceiling-- it was easier to focus on the off-white paint than to have to look at Shiloh. She had no idea how to even start with this. But, she wanted to try and explain. So that way Shiloh didn’t have to worry so much about her. “Mm. So. You know how I said I can turn,” The words stuck in the back of her throat, but Skylar forced herself to speak, “into a seal? Well. If it’s been too long since I’ve changed, or if I get stressed out, I start to get… bad. I, um, I get tired a lot quicker. I get really achey too.” Swallowing, she blinked for a moment, allowing her eyes to drop back down to her hands. “I also get really depressed. I’m not sure if it’s because of the seal thing exactly, or just everything else on top of it. But… yeah. I’m not, not exactly at my best right now.” She said quietly. How was Shiloh going to react to all of that?

It wasn’t something she was used to thinking about, Skylar turning into a seal and sometimes it still caught her off guard when it came up but Shiloh had accepted it. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be at your best all the time.” Shiloh reassured. However, being stressed out was something even Shiloh had difficulty overcoming. “What are you stressing over? Your roommate?” Because it definitely wasn’t the fact that she hadn’t changed into a seal right? Shiloh didn’t know why that would be a thing so she just assumed it was the stress. “I can help you, Skye. If you’ll let me. You’re not alone in this.” Shiloh didn’t have a clue as to how she was feeling but she couldn’t just sit here and know that Skylar was in pain. She’d do anything to help her feel better.

Skylar found herself bracing for Shiloh to walk out, for her to say something disbelieving-- but, neither of those things happened. And when she realized what she was saying, Skylar couldn’t help but feel guilty for having second thoughts. “Thanks.” She said with a tired smile. She knew how she looked. Whenever she felt this bad, it was difficult to hide her weariness. At the mention of stress, she shook her head silently. It wasn’t stress. It wouldn’t be right to lie to Shiloh and say that it was just stress, that calming down would make all this go away. “You can’t, though. You really can’t. I’m the only one who can help me and, I-- I don’t want to. I don’t want to be this way.” She said, looking at Shiloh desperately. “I don’t like what I am.”

“What do you mean?” Shiloh asked despite being able to guess what she was referring to. She didn’t like being a selkie. Shiloh didn’t see any problem with it but she wasn’t the selkie maybe there was something about it that wasn’t favorable but there was something like that in everything. Even being human. “Why don’t you like being a selkie?” Shiloh wasn’t about to say there’s nothing wrong with it because clearly there is something that Skylar views as unfavorable to the point where she rejected that identity. Still, the rejection was making her sick and Shiloh wished there was something she could do to help her realize that this was part of who she was and she couldn’t escape from that and to just love and accept herself but Shiloh knew it wasn’t going to be easy and something like that wouldn’t be achieved tonight.

“Why don’t I like--” Skylar said, incredulous before stopping herself. Shiloh didn’t know, she didn’t understand. Which is why she was asking. And just asking meant a lot, the fact that she wasn’t telling her to just… love herself. That’s what Ricky and Remmy had tried to tell her, that she should just be happy with what she was. And she wasn’t. She hated herself, she hated her skin, she hated her dependence on it. But, what she hated the most about it was the fact… “Because being a selkie is why my family hates me. And if I’m a selkie, that just means they’ll never love me again.” She said. For the first time, she’d allowed herself to voice that thought that had been dwelling in the back of her head. It was a small doubt, that had only grown bigger and bigger, until her mother had cut her off completely. Until there was no denying it any more. And now Shiloh knew. Quiet tears streaked down her face and Skylar shook her head, wiping them away with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I-- I’m sorry.” She apologized, without really knowing what she was apologizing for. Was it the tears? Or the truth?

Her family hated her? Shiloh couldn’t believe that, how could anyone hate Skylar, especially her own family. “Oh, Skye.” Shiloh let out a sigh. “I’m so sorry.” Shiloh couldn’t imagine feeling like that, that being a certain way would mean your family hated you for it. Especially when it was something Skylar couldn’t even control! She wasn’t made into a selkie she was born that way - how could you not accept your daughter or sister, adopted or not? “You don’t have to apologize for anything, it’s okay.” Of course Skylar didn’t like being selkie when she felt that her family hated her for it. Shiloh knew nothing of her family other than what she said about her siblings so she couldn’t say with certainty that they didn’t and because of that, she wasn’t sure how to reassure her. “Why do you think your family hates you for being a selkie?” Shiloh knew there were prejudices in the supernatural community but it was still so disheartening to see how much Skylar was affected by this. She was putting herself in pain and suffering all because she couldn’t accept a part of herself because of what it meant in her relationship with her family.

“It’s o--” Skylar stopped herself. It wasn’t okay. She couldn’t say that any of this was okay. Her parents hated her, her brother had hated her since the day she left, and Bri? She didn’t even know what her little sister thought of her any more. “It is what it is.” She said with a thin smile that she didn’t fully mean. Maybe her parents didn’t love her right now, but if she at least tried to not be like this, if she just tried to be human, maybe they would? Blinking at Shiloh’s question, Skylar grabbed her phone from her pocket and dialed her mother’s number. Then her father’s. Her brother’s. Her sister’s. Each one of them played the same message, “We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.” Sliding her phone away, Skylar nodded. “They blocked me on everything. They don’t want me. And I don’t-- I don’t really blame them.” She said, shaking her head.

Shiloh just watched and Skylar took out her phone and wondered what she was doing. Only when she kept calling did she realize she might be trying to call her family. And they weren’t answering or rather, had blocked her as she said. Shiloh knew she couldn’t say anything to reassure her about her family. Shiloh wasn’t going to insult her family either because it was apparent she still cared about them and saying they were ignorant or undeserving of Skylar wouldn’t make her feel better. She also couldn’t give her hope that they would come around and eventually love her because what if they didn’t and also, that didn’t help how Skylar felt now. Shiloh reached over to cup Skylar’s face once more, picking her head up to look at her. “I’m sorry about your family, Skye. I know this… isn’t the same as their acceptance but… I want you. I accept you and I’m here for you. Whenever you need me, I’m here.” Shiloh had said this before, she knew it but she knew that for Skylar, it was better to keep saying it than to assume she heard and believed it. If she kept saying it Skylar wouldn’t forget, she wouldn’t doubt and eventually, maybe, she’d believe her completely.

When Shiloh lifted her head, her calloused fingers gentle against her cheek, Skylar didn’t immediately want to look at her. She knew that she should be better than this. She shouldn’t be putting all of this on Shiloh, she shouldn’t be telling her about this. But, Shiloh’s words, they helped her. Maybe she couldn’t have her family, and maybe her family didn’t want her. But hearing that Shiloh did… it made things hurt a little less. It reminded her of all the people in town who cared about her-- Remmy and Winston and Morgan and all of the other people who’d been so kind to her. “Thanks.” She said with a watery smile. “It’s just hard for me to… to want to be this way.” She said, gesturing to herself. “I didn’t want this. But, if I don’t turn then things just get worse and worse.” In the back of her head, she wondered if maybe that was a good thing. If maybe, if she just pushed through it, if she just gritted her teeth through the agony-- maybe she wouldn’t need her skin. But, she wasn’t going to tell Shiloh that. She didn’t want her to worry.

Shiloh leaned forward, giving Skylar a kiss on her forehead. “It’ll be hard to accept it and that’s okay. Things take time.” Shiloh knew it must be hard to love something that pushed you away from those you love. “You don’t have to want to be a selkie today or tomorrow.” However, Shiloh didn’t want Skylar to continue to be in pain and depressed. “How about you just work on making your life easier with things you can control, hm?” Shiloh suggested, hoping that Skylar would understand it was probably best to at least do what needed to be done so she wouldn’t be like this. Skylar seemed to have been through enough and she didn’t need to put herself through this as some form of punishment for herself. “The world is already going to make your life suck through things you can’t control. Don’t do it to yourself too, okay? You deserve better than that.” Shiloh didn’t know how her transformation worked, for all she knew it was unpleasant or she needed to be a seal for a certain amount of time… but was this all worth the hassle of not changing? Shiloh couldn’t imagine it being so.

Shiloh’s words, they provided Skylar with some small measure of comfort that others hadn’t. People just kept telling her to… accept things. Like Ricky, who would never understand why she couldn’t just accept this-- how could he? He’d known his whole life what he was. And she’d been thrown into this world, completely blind and alone. At her suggestion, Skylar bit the inside of her cheek anxiously. The things she could control? She really couldn’t control any of this. Her hand was being pushed to turn, the only power she had over any of this situation was… not shifting. But, that wasn’t what Shiloh was asking, what she was hoping for. “Okay.” Skylar said quietly. It wasn’t a happy answer, or one that she really meant. “I can do that.” I can do that because you asked, because you think I deserve better, she thought to herself. Shifting a bit, Skylar leaned against the other woman, resting her head against her shoulder. “Just… not now. Tomorrow, I promise I’ll turn tomorrow.” For you.

“Okay, that’s fine.” Shiloh rested her head against Skylar’s. “Take your time. Whenever you’re ready.” Although she didn’t want Skylar to prolong this pain any longer, she understood that this took some time for her. It wasn’t something she actively wanted to do but something she needed to do. The fact that she was willing to do it for her was touching and it was a start. Hopefully Skylar would soon be doing it for herself but Shiloh wasn’t going to push that on her right now. It was fine to do it for others for now. Her eyes shut as she just let herself enjoy Skylar’s close presence, finding comfort in it and hoping she did as well. Her hand started to lightly run through Skylar’s hair and Shiloh let out a sigh. She’d have to go back home eventually, but right now there were no other priorities outside of Skylar. She could stay here as long as Skylar wanted her to. With how comfortable she was right now, that could be forever and she wouldn’t mind.

[adonis-koo]

Three’s a crowd

| 10 |

Plot: (CEO AU) When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was suppose to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation…

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader/Jimin, Hoseok/Reader, Taehyung/Reader, Seokjin/Reader

Genre: Smut, angst, drama, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 8.5k

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Warning ⚠️ This fic touches on drug use, alcoholism and abuse. Please read with caution if any of these things are triggers for you 🖤

You were collapsed against the futon couch, your stomach exposed to the warm humid air of the room from the shitty cropped Toyko style shirt you wore and the high waisted gym shorts would’ve done some justice to your exposed skin had it not showed your legs like a swimsuit. But the least of your concerns was the skin you were showing as you chugged the beer in your hand like it was koolaid.

Hoseok clacked his tongue as he curved a brow, “Maybe you should take it easy Y/n...you have to open shop with Taehyung tomorrow.”

“Dude, she just watched someone get his head broken in like a pinata,” Taehyung hummed, fingers stroking through your hair soothingly, your head currently laid in his lap as he continued, “I think she has a good reason to drink.”

You sighed, forcing yourself to stop chugging as you set the beer down on the coffee table before curling back against the warmth of his lap, his fingers continued threading into your hair. All you wanted was that horrid memory erased from your mind, you wished you could get the detailed of the man’s splattered blood and chunks of brain out of your memory. But every graphic memory was seared into your memory.

The biggest memory was Jungkook’s expression, he was a totally different person, was that who he truly was? You would’ve expected someone more like Jimin to be tangled up in whatever it was that he was involved in, but no. It was Jungkook, and he was clearly proud of it. Or something like that…? “Fuck…” You groaned, pushing your hands onto your face, “All I wanted was free vacation…”

“Mmm guess everything really does come with a price huh.” Hoseok hummed out, feeling Taehyung shove him only to shove back unappreciative. You had ignored them both though, your phone left further on the futon that had been pulled out, you had instantly blocked Jungkook’s number, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had tried to get a hold of you.

With your mother's engagement official, and her being so close to Jungkook’s mother, you doubt that was going to be the last time you saw him. But dread only filled you at the thought. When had things become so messy between you both?

“You think a hitman’s gonna lynch me now?” You asked weakly, making both of them snort laughs before trying to cough to cover it. Taehyung had pulled you up to sit upright before encasing you in his arms, “Hey if you die, I die.” 

Leave it to that loveable dumbass to proclaim you’d die together. For the first time in forever you weren’t flinching and trying to claw your way out of his grasp. Instead you found yourself leaning into the large oversized black hoodie, the warmth of his body emitting against you as you gave a contented hum.

Hoseok gave that bright smile he was famous for as he laughed, leaning into his seat as he tipped his beer towards you both, “Alright I’ll be here to pay for the funeral when you fuckers die.”

They both began laughing and slowly, you could feel the tip of your mouth curve up, warmth squeezing into your chest at the normality. You had finally survived the week, you survived and now things would go back to the way they were. 

But strangely enough, you had a bad feeling, things were going to be anything but normal anymore.

The night had continued on, eventually cutting off the alcohol intake as you gave them all of the details of the events that took place throughout the week and you had figured your friend’s would’ve started picking teams, but much to your surprise. Neither of them seemed to like Jimin or Jungkook, “But why…” You furrowed your brows in surprise.

Hoseok was the first to speak, his lip wrinkling in disgust, “First of all, Jimin sounds like an asshole. I mean he blew your back out...literally, but at what cost? Who the fuck would say that too you, you are not a dime a dozen.” 

You winced at the venom in his voice, the protective side he was all too well known for showing as he continued, “And furthermore, Jungkook...okay I’ll admit I didn’t think he was that bad of a kid until you told us about the whole fiancee thing. That was the first red flag for me. But now the whole murder thing? I don’t know if it’s mafia related but you do not need to be involved in that shit.”

“Yeah I agree,” Taehyung hummed, a fair bit more relaxed then Hoseok, who’s shoulders were tensed and his jaw clenched at the idea, “I think it’s for the best that things played out the way they did. You’re better off without either of them, for now at least. Maybe things will change in the future.” He shrugged, looking a little more open to the idea then Hoseok did.

And you could tell Hoseok didn’t agree with him either, but refrained from saying so. Sighing you supposed they did have a point, it was better this way. For things to get back to the way they were before, but you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that things had definitely changed. 

Yesterday night had changed your life, in a lot more ways than one.

You had stood still for a moment, taking in a deep breath at the mouth watering smell of the bakery first thing in the morning. More days than less, you had gotten used to the smell, but having the week off had made your body unfamiliar with your long time work place once more. Allowing you to enjoy the warm comforting smell.

Often times when you were younger, Mr Kim would let you and Taehyung eat from the first batch of muffins if you hadn’t eaten that morning. You had a lot of fond memories in this old beat up place.

You jumped slightly at the plate that was plotted in front of you with a large blueberry muffin. Taehyung eagerly shoving it towards you as he pushed the muffin he was currently devouring further in his mouth, “Eat it, I know you want too.” You could barely make out what he had said, his mouth too stuffed to genuinely talk.

Rolling your eyes despite the smile on your lips you picked up the sweet treat, nibbling on the side as you hummed. The muffin was still warm and had a sprinkling of sugar on the top, mixing it nicely with the tart taste of the blueberries. Damn you really loved this shop, “Hey Tae.”

“Hm?” Taehyung hummed out, placing his half ate muffin on the counter top before going to the large mixing bowl, finishing the rest of the muffin batch.

“Did she ever come and get the rest of her shit?” You had wheeled past him towards the coffee machine, needing something to wash down your throat. You weren’t a huge coffee drinker but it smelled so good, it was difficult to resist when it was right in front of you. 

Taehyung’s lips twitched slightly in annoyance at just the thought of her, huffing he nodded, “Yeah, pretty much, she just has one more round to make before she’s gone for good.” He suddenly scoffed as he turned towards you, “You wanna know what she told me?”

You furrowed your brows, pressing the cup to your lips as you let the hot bitter liquid wash down your throat, “What?”

“That I was ‘more than free to go with her’ as if I’d ever actually do that.” Taehyung had that all too familiar broody look on his face as his shoulders hung, pulling up the 24 pan tray as you opened the oven door for him. You only sighed though, you couldn’t really blame him for being angry with his mom. She was the one who had turned out to be a gold digger, leaving his dad because he wasn't ‘rich enough’.

“She actually thinks you’re on her side during all of this?” You raised your brows expectantly. No matter what, you were always going to side with your friends, sure you might try and give them a voice of reason (just like they did for you) but if they were hurt, especially like this. Well you assumed their anger was justified.

Hearing the door of the shop ring you had made your way out to the register as Taehyung followed sighing, “No, I don’t think so. I made it pretty damn clear when she offered that I wasn’t interested. Besides we’re shacking up soon, right?”

You greeted the customer with the best smile you could muster while taking their order. A large piece of coffee cake and a grande americano was easy enough, shit coffee cake sounded really good right now. Your stomach growled in objection as you set up the plate and Taehyung had got to work on the coffee, “As of right now yeah, I was dead ass serious when I texted you that. But what about you though? Is your dad gonna be okay?”

You glanced over at him, the sleeves to his black hoodie pushed up to his elbows and his sandy brown hair was messy and covered over his eyebrows, Taehyung gave a hum in thought before shrugging, “Nah, I think he’ll be fine, he’s still hurt yeah. But it’s been over a year, old mans actually been on my ass for awhile now about moving out. Kinda works out for me too.”

You had moved to the far left end of the counter that had been opened on both sides, setting down the plate as Taehyung moved to set the coffee beside it calling out the order number before moving back to the register.

“Alright cool, so I was thinking maybe we should start looking for a new place though, the contract was signed under both my mom and me and when she ends the lease I’m not sure if they’ll let me resign with someone new. The landlord's picky as hell with who lives there.”

“In beatshitville? The fuck?” Taehyung snorted a laugh as you shrugged while throwing up your hands, “Alright sounds fine with me, never really cared for your place anyways.” Taehyung nodded. You weren’t too surprised by his words, it’s not like you lived in the best neighborhood in the world, while you’d give it decent at best it still wasn’t the greatest, “Oh by the way, I was thinking about picking up a second job too, any recommendations?”

You curved a brow at his words, not too shocked by them, unless you both were willing to downgrade in house rent he’d have to get a second job as well, “Well Heaven's Best is always looking for strippers.” You snorted a loud laugh as Taehyung rolled his eyes near close to the back of his head, “All I’m saying is it’s really not a bad place, they’ll teach you pole for free with that face.”

“Yeah and the manager would probably want me to suck his dick in compensation.” Taehyung rolled his eyes again as he began cleaning off the counter, he said no more but you wouldn’t have been surprised if he was actually considering. Not that you really wanted him to take the job offer but it really wasn’t all too bad of a jig- temporarily speaking.

The rest of the day went by within a blink of an eye and before you knew it, you were closing shop at seven, you had all agreed to go out before you and Hoseok headed into work for dinner, or well breakfast for Hoseok. But still it was a nice time slot for tonight’s shift, which you wouldn’t be starting until nine.

Hoseok gave a big yawn, stretching out in his long sleeve, you were honestly surprised he wasn’t too hot in as he ran a hand through his hair, “Oh I don’t know if it means anything to you but you might wanna take a look at this.”

You were confused for a minute, pausing from the noodles you had currently been devouring before slurping the remaining that hung from your lips, watching him pull out his phone. Fuck, what was that supposed to mean? You hated cliffhangers. 

Hoseok handed his phone towards you as you glanced towards the screen, a little confused at first before swearing under your breath, “Motherfucker.” Weren’t camera’s not supposed to be allowed on the VIP floor of the casino? It was a picture of you and Jungkook, both of your backs turned thank god, you were perched up on his lap while playing that game of poker. 

The photo was grainy and maybe took off of a phone…? You knew for a fact that there was no way photo’s could’ve been allowed on that floor. Who the fuck sold it to media?

“So it was you?” Hoseok sighed as you handed the phone back to him, your hands instantly covered your face, both in embarrassment and self hatred. You did a good job of forgetting about Jungkook for the day, but that photo had let all of those memories rush back to your head.

It’s not like they knew it was you though, the headline had said it was Jungkook and Jae just the day before their engagement had been announced. Which also confirmed that he had made it official that night of the party. You had been avoiding social media for that very reason.

Taehyung instantly grabbed the phone from him to see before giving a low whistle, “Well we only know because you literally just confirmed it.”

“What if my mom see’s this!?” You screeched out, sure your friends couldn’t tell it was you but what if your mom did? She knew you from the inside out, you wouldn’t be surprised if she knew it was you just by your back, or the color of your hair, hell maybe even your ears. You just didn’t know!

Hoseok shrugged before snatching his phone back from Taehyung, “I doubt it, Y/n you’re too worried, besides i’d be a little more concerned about fucking a mobster the entire week.”

“He isn’t a mobster!” You cried out with a whisper, pressing your hands into your head at his words looking distressed. There was no way Jungkook was a mobster! You just couldn’t imagine those sweet, doe eyes filling that role. You weren’t sure what he was, but that couldn’t have been the case. Right?

Taehyung had been trying his best to not laugh but was failing miserably as he let the laughter bubble in his throat, Hoseok had began to join in with him and as much as you tried to stay serious it didn’t work, letting the smile take over your lips as you sighed. Rolling your eyes as you stirred your drink around, “He isn’t a mobster guys.” You murmured softly, a little more serious than before, “I don’t know what he is, but I don’t think that’s the case.”

“Maybe you should unblock him and just ask?” Hoseok offered, fiddling with his chopsticks before shrugging altogether, Hoseok was the most pragmatic of the three of you and you knew he wouldn’t be suggesting it if he didn’t fully think it was a good idea, “I mean he was gonna explain when you first saw, right?”

You thought over the memory again, it was still a bit vague and the shock of the whole event had made it very hazy for you. You didn’t remember much of the night after that, just waking up in the airplane the next day, “I don’t know Hobi….I mean I don’t remember a lot but I’m pretty sure I was the one who told him to stay away. It feels a bit hypocritical to go and hit him up after saying that.”

“Yeah but you were in shock, that was just a knee jerk reaction,” Taehyung chimed in, ignoring his half ate fajita as he pointed his chopsticks at you, “You said he wanted to get with you, right? And not just for a good fuck.”

You facepalmed before glancing around the shop, did he have to talk so loud? “Yeah but…”

“Then he’s probably wanting to at least explain himself. You should give him the chance to do that before cutting ties...unless his dick is that good then- hey!” Taehyung whined as you smacked his arm with a glare. You didn’t need to hear this right now, the last thing on your mind was his body when he just killed someone.

“I don’t know guys, I’ll think about it but right now…I think I just need some space. Beside’s he just went public with Jae, getting near him with a ten foot pole is social suicide.” You sighed as you leaned against your hand on the table, it was the truth honestly. Right now you needed time to digest everything that had happened before approaching him, if at all.

Your friends hummed in agreement before continuing the conversation elsewhere. Should you really talk to him though? You wouldn’t deny you wanted answers, a lot. You needed some sort of explanation because you were desperately wanting to hold onto the idea that Jungkook was still a good person, that he wasn’t someone who had just pretended. 

He seemed so authentic, if he had genuinely tricked you...you were almost certain your faith in whatever was left in humanity would be lost. But another part of you was too scared to try, the icy look of his face, void of any emotion still haunted you when there was a moment your thoughts weren’t occupied. Did you really want to find out the answer?

You sunk back into your seat, forcing yourself back into the conversation of your friends. It wouldn’t do you any good simmering over it, things were back to normal now, right? Who cared.

“So...basically you’re telling me this guy went hack saw murder on the coffee pot?” You furrowed your brows at the glass scattering across the vacant room, the sheets were fumbled and torn up making the slight creak of the fan above all the more ominous. Not that it actually scared you, but you supposed those who weren’t used to your job would’ve been a little freaked out.

Hoseok hummed with a shrug as he grabbed the broom from the cart, “Yeah basically, didn’t they pass a rule about appliances being left out of the patients rooms?”

“That was allowed in the first place?” You snorted a scoff, raising your brows as you went to work on the bed, pulling the ragged blank off before folding it up, tossing it on the cart while getting to work on the tattered sheet. Damn did these patients have some strong muscles to be tearing this shit up.

Hoseok glanced back over towards you before shrugging, “Well don’t take my word for it. All I wanna know is how he got it in here. I think they had to wheel him to the ER.”

The screams of the guy had died down the echoing hallway as you both stood still for a moment before resuming your tasks, “Did he slit his wrists?” You hummed out, taking note of the fresh blood that oozed from the bed, dripping down to the floor.

“On accident, I think.” Hoseok answered, stepping over the new pile of glass to get the dustpan, sighing as he glanced towards the door, “Don’t you ever feel bad for them? The patients?”

You licked your lips for a moment, giving it some thought. You wouldn’t necessarily say you pitied them, pity wouldn’t fix their minds. But you did wish them the best, you knew first hand how much it taxed your best friend, “Nah, they aren’t broken Hobi...just different.” You finally answered, it was how you felt. It wasn’t the patients fault they were born with the mental illnesses they had, or how they had developed over time. 

But that didn’t make them less human than anyone else, they deserved love and compassion too, “They need people like you helping them Hobi, y’know? Some of the people working here are only doing it for the pay grade and it shows.”

You both knew that was true, it wasn’t a secret that psych nurses were paid well for their line of work. But some of them treated the patients so coldly, it really did show in the patients attitude. You were being honest, Hoseok was such a sweetheart to all the patients, you knew he’d be a good addition to the team here. If he got hired on but that was a whole other problem in itself.

You both finished up cleaning out the room before steering the cart away, stretching out with a long yawn. Damn you forgot how tiring this really was on such little sleep. It was only 1 AM but you weren’t even halfway through shift, it was gonna be a long night.

Hearing scuffling of shoes though made you both pause for a second before shrugging, “You know this is against the rules!”

“It’s her kid he’s almost graduated anyways he can help!” Both you and Hoseok turned around at the bickered words of two of the nurses, they were paused a little ways away from you and they were familiar enough. You didn’t know them by name but Hoseok had knew them both enough. The one on the left stepped forward ignoring her friend as she called out, “Hoseok, we really need some help. She’s having an episode and she keeps asking for you.”

“Where is she?” Hoseok instantly strode over with you in suit, not a single drop of hesitation on his face as he inquired further. But the nurses both turned around showing him the way rather than speaking. You didn’t have to go, but you weren’t sure what was going on, all you knew was the word ‘episode’ in the ward was bad and you knew he could handle his mother but what about after?

Both of the nurses stopped outside of the room where you jolted at the loud thump and harsh scream, that was definitely his mother. The door quickly opened to reveal one of the other nurses, her breath rapid and her eyes dilated, “Holy shit. Thank god you’re here Jung, are you sure you wanna go through with this?”

“Positive, I have Y/n for back up if I need any help.” He gave a glance towards you, making you give a quick nod in confirmation. You’d go to hell and back for your friends, you were a lot of things in this life, but you were best known for your unwavering loyalty.

The nurses nodded at the crashing and muffled screaming continued from the other side, Hoseok paused in front of the door for a second, taking a breath before you both entered. The room was completely wrecked, the sheets tattered and torn off the bed, feathers from the pillow scattered across the room and his mother. 

Yuki was beating her fists against the wall, her hair was ragged and oily but the tears spilling down her face while she wailed something incomprehensible made your heart splinter.

You let Hoseok approach first, his steps with soft and calculated with his gaze focused solely on her, treating her both as if she was delicate porcelain but also like a cornered animal, and you supposed that was a rightful take. His mother looked like such, her eyes were blown out and she looked terrified while pounding her fists against the wall, dark bruises forming on the palms of her hands from the amount of force she had been using.

“Hey, mom it’s me.” Hoseok spoke gently over her wailing to try and not startle her, his hands held slightly in front of him to try and act as a barrier between himself and her if she lashed out, but your sight wasn’t on him anymore, it was on the object in her hand she gripped. You squinted to try and get a fix on it as Hoseok slowly approached closer to her.

Your eyes suddenly widened in realization as you reached out, “Hoseok, wait!” But it was too late, his hand had stretched out to gently grasp her shoulder, causing her to violently whip around and lunge at him with the syringe she had been holding.

You watched in horror but Hoseok had reacted quickly, ducking out of the way only for her to give another loud screech, she had said something but you couldn’t make out her words as she shoved him away.

The strength of patients never ceased to amaze you, you could barely register Hoseok being sent tumbling backwards before her sight suddenly set out you.

The syringe came flying your way as you scrambled to dodge the attack, her movements were fast and sharp compared to your frantic figure as you tried to back away from each of her thrashes towards you. There was only so much space in the room though before your back had hit the wall and Yuki was far too close, she let out another shriek as she slammed the syringe towards you.

Her body near pressing against yours and you barely managed to move your head to the side of her attack in time, the syringe stuck planted far into the wall where your head originally should have been.

After one unsuccessful tug she abandoned it, grabbing your jumpsuit, tears streaming down her face as she shouted something fumbled, something like…..Hoseok?

It sounded similar to his name but you couldn’t think in the moment as she threw you to the ground, but the water falling from her eyes made it difficult for you to want to fight back as you tried to scramble away.

But Yuki had clambered on top of you and all you could feel was the pain throbbing against your face as she slammed her hands down against you with no particular aim in mind, she had kept crying but her force was beginning to weaken as she finally managed to cry out, “Where’s my son!?”

You had tried catching her wrists but her movement was too frantic and for a moment you were beginning to wonder if you were going to pass out. Your head was beginning to feel light and the pressure in your chest from her body weight was beginning to tighten.

“I’m right here mom.”

The pain didn’t cease but the cause of it had, Hoseok had stood behind you both, reach down gripping her upperarms from behind to keep her steady, her breath was ragged and she had almost became like a rag doll as he pulled her off of you, turning her around, “I’m right here.” he murmured more softly.

You couldn’t see her expression, just her choked sobs softening as she murmured, “Hobi.” you collapsed in relief at the sight of her throwing her arms around him into a hug, her crying not ceasing but her volatile state from before being calmed. You aimlessly store up at the ceiling, letting them share their moment together as your hand, shaky from adrenaline lifted up to touch your lip that was in seering pain and an odd wet sensation on your chin.

Gently letting your fingers ghost of the area before lifting them away, sighing again as you closed your eyes, fuck that was blood. She must’ve busted your lower lip during her rounds of hits.

Nothing else was bleeding though, maybe bruising. Probably bruising, but you were familiar enough with that. You had heard Hoseok gently coax her back to sit on the bed an arm wrapped around her shoulders, “Mom lay down, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You good Y/n?” He called out the last part a little louder from his spot on the other side of the bed.

“Peachy.” You replied dryly, the pain still throbbing and your body still pumping with adrenaline from what had just happened. Well, it could’ve been worse. You glanced towards the syringe that was stuck in the wall before sitting up slowly, wiping the blood from your chin despite feeling more trickle down. You’d definitely have to get that cleaned as soon as you weren’t needed here.

Standing up was a bit difficult at first, your head still light and your legs weak but you wobbled over to the wall, giving a good yank from the syringe to pull it from the wall. That could’ve been your head. You cringed slightly as you inspected it, the substance still in there as you hummed. This must’ve been the sedative they were trying to give her before things got out of hand. You glanced back towards Hoseok who had just got her to lay down.

Her eyes were doey and bright just like his but her cheeks were still stained from her tears but even through all the hysteria, she still looked at him like he was her whole world. Briefly you felt the small smile pull on your lips, but deep inside your chest panged with a twinge of jealousy. You could only imagine what it was like, to have someone love you that much. Shaking your head you discarded the thought, what was the use in throwing yourself a pity party? It wasn’t gonna pay the bills.

You walked over glancing towards them both as Hoseok gave you a nod to signal you he had it under control, you had just grabbed the handle when you heard a thrash, turning around in surprise to see Hoseok gently pushing his mother back down despite her insistence, but her eyes were shining on you with a strong determination before she weakly spoke, “I’m...sorry.”

You let your lips squirk into a small smile as she finally laid back down at Hoseok’s insistence, shaking your head as you answered, “It’s okay.” opening the door you gently shut it behind yourself as you sighed.

Looking up to find five nurses standing there waiting with baited breath, you shoved the syringe towards the closest one as you huffed, “She’ll be okay, Hoseok will let you guys know when it’s okay to come in.” but they all store with open mouths at well...yours. Blood dripping off your chin, pattering against the floor but you ignored them as you went to walk down the hall to find the nearest bathroom.

You had been patting down the area on your lower lip for a good ten minutes now, the blood had finally ceased and gave you time to clean down the rest of your chin, no immediate bruising had appeared which was a good thing, now whether they’d be there when you got work at the bakery was...debatable. Sighing you threw away the last piece of bloodied paper towel away as you washed your hands.

Deciding to get the cleaning cart and get back to the vacant rooms, they wouldn’t clean themselves and Hoseok was probably on his way back now, if not already on it. You had got back to the cart before grabbing the clipboard, glancing over the next room number you hadn’t scratched off before making your way over.

Same routine as usual, first take care of the bed, discarding any pillow cases and sheets to take down to the laundry shoot. Next was any split contents or breakables, you had been mopping the floor down when Hoseok had came in, “She good?”

He gave a nod, his expression looked peaceful and he seemed content as he answered, “Yeah, I guess she just had a panic attack about where I was? I don’t know but; she’s okay now. Thanks by the way, you look like shit.”

“As if I don’t always look like shit.” You rolled your eyes but still felt the small smile quirk on your lips, watching him fetch the second mop as he dunked it into the tub you had set out, “Anyway it's not a big deal, I’m just glad she didn’t skewer my head with that syringe, did you see her? She’s fuckin’ flying around the room like jackie chan with that shit.” you both had began laughing as you got to work on the room.

That would be the biggest excitement you’d have for at least a month, you had just finished the room when you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket making your brows furrowed. Nobody ever called, it was either text or in person. Digging out your phone as Hoseok turned towards you confused as well. You swallowed thickly, “Fuck.”

“Who is it?”

“Mom.” You replied before answering, worry filling you. She never called unless it was important, and the last time that had happened was well over five years ago, “Hey mom what’s up?” But you couldn’t even keep the casual tone in your voice, the worry invading it as you stood still in the near empty hallway.

But all you could hear at first was crying on the other end and your mom saying something, but she was speaking so fast and her words were so muddled you couldn’t understand, fuck what had happened? Had your dad found out where you lived? “Woah, woah, woah calm down. What happened? Are you okay?” Hoseok had wheeled around, his eyebrows shot up in concern but you had focused entirely on your mothers distressed voice as she gave a shaky inhale.

“B-baby please come home- these people they just,” She let out another sob, her breath hitching again as she fumbled against her words, “They broke in and the house is destroyed sweetie-”

What? Your mind was reeling from her words before cutting her off, “I’ll be home in ten, have you called the police?”

“N-not yet, Seung’s on his way here right now.” She cried out, her voice high pitched and strained as you sighed, running a hand through your hair. Of course she called him first, that didn’t matter right now though, focus Y/n, focus.

“Alright call them, I’ll be home soon.” You hung up the phone before sighing again, your mind still reeling from her words as you finally addressed Hoseok’s slightly distressed figure, looking highly concerned, “Fuck I don’t know. She just said someone...or a group broke in? I don’t know, I have to go Hoseok…”

You finally glanced up at him but he only nodded, “Want me to come with? It sounds bad Y/n…”

“No it’s fine, one of us needs to stay here and finish shift, I’ll keep you updated okay?” He gave one last nod before you hurried to clock out.

Your entire walk home was spent more like a jog and you were nearly out of breath by the time you had arrived.

You heard a small meow making you stop as your brows pressed together, your eyes scanning the hall of the apartment before landing on the familiar black and brown mottled cat, his fur slightly matted and sticking up on the back of his neck and tail fluffed out as if he had been spooked, “Twix, what are you doing out here baby?” You cried out, the cat quickly came running up as you picked him up, he let out another meow as you tenderly stroked him before going up to your apartment.

The key in hand except your mouth gaped at the sight of the door being forced open, wood scattered across the ground and all it took was a small push for it to open. Your lips fell open in shock at the sight before you, the once small but cozy living room ripped to shreds, everything torn up and thrown all over the place, stuffing from the couch cushions had spread across the floor and what little glassware you had set out was shattered to pieces.

You let Twix jump from your arms as they fell numbly against your sides, what the fuck.

Everything hadn’t just been ruined, it was completely destroyed, all the various knick knacks you had found over the years, the loveseat you and your mom had been so excited to get for her 40th birthday, even the little set of paintings you had bought at the thrift store when you had first moved in were holed and crushed on the ground.

You hadn’t realized how many memories and moments had been ingrained in this shitty little apartment until you stood there, with all of it crushed to rubble in front of you. But your logical side was kicking in as you realized all of this wasn’t for nothing. No, this looked like a raid, like they were searching for something. Nothing had been stolen.

Your mother suddenly appeared, tears streaming down her face as she hurried towards you, throwing her arms around you as she sobbed into your neck, but your mind was numb still reeling from the sight before you. Who would do this? And more importantly, why?

“Look I don’t know okay? I work two jobs and I’m barely home five hours a day, why would I have any ‘enemies’ who’d do this.” You snapped out harshly, it was close to four in the morning and you were too tired to answer anymore questions. The officer took down another note, looking more patient than you.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself and you understood how it looked, you were beaten to a pulp and dead tired but you didn’t get into fights, not ones that would escalate to this. But the officer shifted his weight as he glanced back up at you, “I’m not accusing you of anything Ms L/n, but I need you to think, has there been anything strange you’ve seen lately, do you know anyone that could have caused this to happen?”

His words suddenly triggered your memory, the memory of Jungkook...the gun....the body. You swallowed all of your emotions back down your throat, this couldn’t be connected to that. Right?

“No, I’m positive sir.” He didn’t look sold but gave one late nod before finishing the interview.

You sighed, leaning back against the wall as you heard a meow and a tiny body brush against your leg, glancing down you watched as your cat, Twix looked up at you, meowing again as if sensing your distressed mood. Sighing you leaned down as you let him rub against your hand, a purr erupting from his throat in contentment, your lips twitched into a ghost of a smile briefly.

“You okay?”

And just like that, it disappeared, your frown taking its rightful place on your lips as you glanced up to one of the few people you had assumed you would only have to rarely see. Jimin stood tall, his hands in the pockets of his jacket, expression unreadable making you scoff, a more bitter smile playing on your lips as you replied, “Peachy, why do you care?”

“While it may come as a shock to you Y/n,” Jimin finally gave a weary smile, shifting is weight and his eyes seemed to sparkle in amusement as he continued, “I’m not heartless.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, glancing at him as if searching for any visible signs because you really weren’t sure, was he heartless? He didn’t seem so sweet at Dark Ace’s anniversary party. But at the moment, you couldn’t detect a trace of mockery or condescending that had taken place previously in his demeanor. 

Jimin held down a hand too you in offering as he spoke up, “Your house just got broken into and you look like you went through a garbage disposal, it’d be hard to not feel at least a little sorry for you.”

It was hard to not smile even a tiny bit at the return of his smartass tone, making you roll your eyes exasperatedly as you grabbed his hand, letting him help you up as you muttered, “Asshole.”

Jimin wrapped a loose arm around your shoulder as he guided you back towards the living room, “Yeah well come on loser, you’re staying over the night with your mom.” It felt a bit odd, having his arm around you, and his words so casual. But they felt okay, and that was what you needed at the moment, you needed okay.

Any other day you would have objected but you were tired and your work schedule had already resumed it’s draining hold on you. Jimin had lead you back out to the living room where Seung had been soothing your mother, it was mutually agreed you’d spend the night at their estate until you could work things out in the morning.

That’s how you found yourself laying against the queen sized plush bed, but you were anything but sleepy now, your mind racing trying to sort through everything that had happened. And eventually by six you had texted your friends

Sighing you realized you’d need to get a shower and breakfast before going to the bakery, hopefully whatever your mother had planned would be discussed within the next few hours before you departed. The hot water seemed to be the only remedy for your dull mind as it pounded against your back, forcing your muscles into relaxation. Eventually you did step out of the shower and reality had hit you again much to your displeasure. You had mindlessly got changed before exiting the room. The estate was, well an estate. It was massive.

Why was there so many vacant rooms? What purpose did they serve? Was having this big of a house necessary? Briefly you glanced around as you stepped down the stairs, this would be your mother's new home. And as much as you despised the upcoming wedding, you were secretly relieved. She’d be well taken care of at least. You wouldn’t have to spend day and night worrying about her from now on.

You’d be able to just get through day in and day out without any worries. It would nice actually. The more you thought about it the more you came to terms with, while this change in life wasn’t very pleasant. You could make the most of it.

Now sitting down at the large table being told you were staying with Seung until the police got to the bottom of who raided your apartment? That instantly crushed what little positivity you had gained. Your mom was spouting it out as if she didn’t quite understand what volatile reaction bubbled beneath your quiet exterior, had it not been for both Seung and Jimin being present you would’ve instantly lost your shit.

Jimin had leaned back in his chair, a loose white sweatshirt on and a case of bedhead to match, he looked tired but it didn’t stop his curiosity as he watched between both you and your mom. He knew how you felt about the whole situation so you couldn’t necessarily get mad at him for being interested in your reaction.

But you weren’t going to give in right now, no matter how much you wanted too. No matter how badly you just wanted to scream fuck at the top of your lungs and slam your head into a wall. You didn’t want to be an adult and deal with it, but you needed too. And given Seung was going to be your stepfather- the idea made you shudder, and it felt wrong but that's besides the point-

It was far too early for you to feel comfortable enough to deny the idea- both physically and in aspect of their relationship. It wasn’t like you’d be home all that much anyways, but the few hours you were...well you wanted to be in your own home.

“Y’know…” You drew out, forcing your mother to pause. You had swore every time you weren’t going to do this, and yet here you were speaking anyways. You could only hope Seung and Jimin would be leverage to keep her from lashing out at you, “It’s really not that big of a deal. I mean...I can understand you wanting to stay here but...Well I’m not home much to begin with- And don’t get me wrong,” you rushed quickly glancing to Seung, “It’s not that I don’t want to stay-” don’t fucking lie Y/n “I just feel like I’m intruding a bit...I just think it would be better if I went ahead and just cleaned up the apartment and resettled. Consider me dumb but- I don’t think it’s gonna happen again.”

Those words were ones you firmly believed, whatever they had been looking for, they didn’t find. Therefore your apartment was useless, which also meant they’d leave it alone. You just couldn’t believe it was really a one man operation- or a stray burglar- no valuables in your house had been taken. If there was one thing you prided yourself on- it was your intelligence- albeit you didn’t use it very often...but when you did, it didn’t take much to figure things out.

But just one glance at your mother and you knew you fucked up, her shoulders were tense and she had that rigid expression she always had when she didn’t agree with you. Her jaw was clenched a classic sign of her trying not to snap at you due to being in the presence of others.

Jimin had leaned back in his seat, the glass of water pressed against his lips as if trying to hide his dumb smile at the scene unfolding. You almost felt like you fell into an invisible trap set by him but- dammit this wasn’t about him! Focus Y/n!

But before your mother could speak Seung had beat her to it, his expression the exact opposite of hers, expression soft and warm making you feel all different kinds of level of discomfort, “You aren’t a burden Y/n, we aren’t trying to strip you of your freedom we just want you to be safe,” He explained delicately and while you understood- they couldn’t seem to with the fact that you could take care of yourself. 

You were beginning to feel the familiar bubble of frustration inside you, how many times did you have to say that before someone would believe you? “While I do think you’re correct in your assessment. I also don’t want to take that risk, I hope you can understand.”

It felt like you didn’t even have a choice.

Sinking into your seat you sighed, giving a reserved nod. But your head was already turning, you had a bad habit of ignoring people’s decision when it affected you. At the end of the day, you were the one looking out for yourself. And if there was one thing you couldn’t stand, it was someone making a decision- assuming they knew what was best for you- without even consulting you about it. You got it, it was done out of some sort of notion for care but all it did was irk you.

Maybe you were being unreasonable, all you had complained about was not getting put first, and now that you were, maybe you were being an unreasonable bitch about it. But the fact of the matter was you weren’t being put first, no this was about your mother. What she wanted. And right now she wanted you in this god awful estate because she wouldn’t cut the fucking apron strings- No she refused too.

You hadn’t realized how rapidly your heartbeat was, or how tightly you had clenched your hands into fists in a bout of simmering anger, you abruptly stood up from your chair making everyone’s gaze jump to you suddenly, “I should get going for work. I won’t be back until late morning so I’ll see everyone later.”

You didn’t wait for any goodbyes as you left. You hadn’t gotten so worked up in awhile and when you got like this your mouth would open and pour out words like a faucet. There was no stopping your brutality when that happened. And honestly? You didn’t need to add that on to the list of things that had happened in your life after everything within the past week.

You had barely made it out the door when you heard it open again, “I swear to fuck-” you muttered under your breath turning around in anticipation of your mom ready to chew your ass out. Instead you found Jimin walking down the steps with a yawn, keys in one hand with the other in the pocket of his hoodie.

Squinting your eyes into a suspicious glance only made him laugh, the lazy smile on his lips as he curved a brow, “What the fuck is your problem? I’m driving you to work, come on.” He breezed past you like the asshole he was, walking towards the garage as he called over your shoulder, “I’ll leave without you.”

“And go where?” You snorted indignantly, following behind despite not being in the mood to chat, you weren’t sure what his deal was anymore. First he said, and in quotes ‘a dime a dozen’ in realms of fucking, and now he wanted to act like prince charming? You fucking hated guys, they were so dumb it made you livid!

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll go without you and get something to eat.” Jimin shrugged, even having the audacity to throw you a cheeky smile as your glare heightened but you got in the car anyways. The silver corvette was sleek and comfy and still had that new car smell. It hadn’t even been a full two minutes before he finally asked the golden question, “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Do I look like I want to fucking live with you both!? No offense but I’d rather get railroaded by a goddamn golf cart before that happens.” You sputtered out instantly, throwing your hands all over the place as you ranted.

Jimin had only curved an amused eyebrow before prodding you further, “Why use the term railroad when you mean run over?”

“Does that fucking matter!? Our parents are getting married! My house just got fucking raided by some elite spec ops bullshit and don’t even get me started about the anniversary party fucking hell!” You snapped back animatedly, “If I want to use the wrong term I will!”

“Alright, alright, calm down doll I was just joking,” Jimin surrendered though he didn’t look very sorry as he parked in the lot of the bakery, “Try and cool off, when do you get off work?”

You squinted at him again, refraining from going batshit insane at his words ‘calm down’ you were being perfectly calm. Gnawing against your lip in contemplation before finally huffing, “Seven why? I have to get to my other job by 9.”

Jimin clacked his tongue, “Because I’m picking you up, don’t be so sour. I’ll even get you something to eat.”

But your face only soured more, saying nothing in return as you exited the car, ready to throw yourself onto Taehyung and bitch his ear off the entire morning on why you wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow you whole.

Note: Happy friday everyone! I’m sorry it took me 10 chapters to finally introduce her cat.

Taglist: @sapphireprinces5 @jazzytfw @theslumberingcat @mrsfandomz @cainami @nininek12 @loveherpersona @expensive-bangtan-girl @yoongnysus @sugajinny @peachy-bhun 

(Let me know if you’d like to be added! )

[radiowithnoreception]

I have been debating writing this for a while, but I think someone might need to hear it. I needed it, but didn’t know where to find the answer.

2 months ago I broke up with my boyfriend. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. Part of me was embarrassed. I thought this was the man I was going to marry. We had a date picked and were planning the honeymoon, we were buying a house, we were discussing when we would start trying for kids. Then things started feeling different. He kept going back on his word and was putting work first more often. He started hiding his texts from me and wouldn’t call his family if I was around. Things didn’t feel right.

I started paying attention to the way he was saying things and the things he would change the subject about. The first thing that really caught my attention was him asking me to move out. I moved in with him during the shut down. Everything was great. I was living my housewife fantasy. This lasted until June. Then I came back from vacation with my family. He was acting really weird. The next morning he blurted out that I couldn’t live there anymore. His mom told him that he had to make me move out. That was the first time she caused an issue.

So I moved out and he assured me that nothing would change and I could still spend the night. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of the end, but I kept moving forward and trying to make the best of things. We start talking about what’s going to happen when his lease runs out. I suggest buying a house so it would be an investment and make his payments lower. I made it clear that we wouldn’t have to live together until after we were married, which at that point he had suggested June 5, 2021. I was all for it. I thought this was his way of making up for asking me to move out. He agreed to buying a house (which would be in my name until we were married), and we started looking.

A few weeks later we found the perfect house and went under contract. He tells his mom and she tells him “no.” He is not allowed to buy a house with me. All of a sudden he went from breaking his lease ASAP to we will discuss it later. Looking back, he frequently put me off until “later,” which usually never came. So I decide to move forward and buy the house myself. I knew I could afford it, we were still getting married June 5th and I thought that everything would be fine. I wanted this relationship to work more than anything. I was so happy to finally be in a relationship and having so much fun planning for a wedding and the future.

Then, out of nowhere, he starts taking about getting a new job and moving. We had agreed that he would stay here another year so we could be together and then after we got married we would move to wherever the job took him. I start panicking and ask him for reassurance that we would stick to the plan and stay here another year. He agrees. I ask him to tell his family because I had a feeling that that where the pressure to move was coming from. He does and it becomes a huge issue. His mom is calling and becoming more and more emotionally abusive. He will tell me he is staying, talk to her, and then change his mind.

Finally he asks me to leave so he can have a private conversation with his family. A decision that would effect me more than anyone other than him and I am asked to leave. I beg him to let me stay. He refused. He was told that I am not allowed to be part of the conversation.

2 hours later he calls me and asks me to come back. His idea of a compromise was to stay here and keep looking for other jobs. If he found one, he would leave. This meant that nothing changed and he was still choosing work over me. At that point I had enough and decided that his mother and I needed to have a chat. I ask him to set it up and he does for a few days later.

So we call his mom. I respectfully shared my views and she imediatly starts berating me and speaking to me like I am a child. In the middle of all of this I start having a panic attack. Then I am told not to “take a tone” with her. He shushes me. She then tells me that we will not be getting married in June, my opinion in the relationship doesn’t matter, and that his job will always come first.

Finally the call ends and I start sobbing. He is talking about how “we found some common ground” and “it went great.” I am literally sobbing while he is saying these things. Then I run upstairs to puke. While I am in the bathroom I can hear him telling my mom how great it went. Imagine being so dense that your girlfriend is having a panic attack, shaking, sobbing, and puking and still thinking that everything went great.

I ask him to leave and spend the rest of the night and the next morning trying to process everything. I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t live like this. His mother would never change, he would always put work first, and I would have to be happy with the scraps that were left. I broke up with him that day.

So here is the point to all of this. Pay attention. Not just to what the person is saying or to how you feel. Your heart is deceptive. If I had looked more closely and been a little more smart, we would have never gotten together. There were so many signs that he wasn’t it. But I liked him. He noticed me. He was an expert at love bombing and manipulation. Everything became more clear after I broke it off. I found myself again. Yeah, it sucked and yeah I was heartbroken, but once I realized what I was gaining by leaving, everything became much clearer.

Here is my advice. Make a list of what you want. Think and pray long and hard over it. If someone asks you at change something on that list, think and pray over that. I have had my list since I was 20 or so (I am 27 now). He didn’t meet the basic things I needed out of someone, but I wanted what he claimed to offer so badly that I let it slide. A relationship should change you for the better, it shouldn’t make you lose part of yourself. The right person is out there. Being lonely in a relationship is worse than being lonely and single.

So what did I gain be leaving? Instead of buying a house that he liked, I am building on my family’s farm. I get to raise my family there and follow in my great granny’s footsteps. I realized that being single isn’t the worst thing. I have gotten closer with my friends and siblings. I am dating and having fun with it. I have a job that I love. And most importantly, I am not being held back and pushed aside.

[sobdasha]

revenge is a dish best served long after the fact, so you can really savor the subtlety of the irony on the palate

See, the thing is, the first time I saw just that page of the Mabudachi Arc where Shigure's asking Tohru if she's having fun, spending every minute of every day with the person she loves...I assumed he was being salty.

Because I keep forgetting, and then suddenly remembering for just a moment, that there's a bit over half a year gap between the time when the curse ends, Shigure wins, Shigure gets Akito all to himself and everything he's ever wanted…

...and graduation, when Shigure actually gets those things.

It's probably like late July, the curse is broken, everyone is pairing up all lovey-dovey, Kureno's moving out of town and Shigure's taking his place as assistant to the Souma family head. And so Shigure turns up at the Main House (in a suit, because he believes in dressing for the job and while that means schlubbing it around in a bathrobe and glass of wine as a writer, being the personal assistant of the head of a wealthy and prestigious family--who is trying to symbolically break the cycle of stifling, traditional abuse by switching out kimono for Western-style clothes--means at the least investing in some nice slacks and button-downs) and asks so, when is he being recalled from his banishment and moving back in to the inside estate?

And Akito looks at him like he's crazy and says, "Are you crazy? No, you're not moving back here."

You can't leave that house yet, Akito says, because if you move out those three kids living with you are suddenly going to be homeless again, and you can't do that to Tohru.

Okay, so technically there's no reason Kyou can't move back in with Kazuma--except that the dojo is inconveniently far away from Kaibara High School, I'm not sure Japan has school districts exactly like the US but something I was googling a while ago suggested they have a similar idea anyway about how you go to the school you're easily able to walk to--and of course Kazuma would happily take Tohru in as well. But Akito can't just send Yuki back to live with his parents now.

Shigure is pretty sure this is bullshit. First of all, Tohru runs that house and manages the boys perfectly fine as it is, and in fact she could probably do an even better job without Shigure there. They'll all be just dandy without an adult in the house. And secondly, although Shigure is unaware of this argument at the time, Yuki's girlfriend manages to live alone in an apartment without dying and she's nearly as much of a disaster as Yuki.

Yes, Yuki has a girlfriend, and Shigure remains unaware of this fact for a decent while, partly because Yuki refuses to ever bring anyone over to the house. Oh, Aya has talked about Yuki bringing a girlfriend around the shop for months now, but Shigure assumed that was Aya being Aya.

The girl--some friend from school?--existed mostly in Shigure's mind as a sort of hypothetical, in potentia, a Schrodinger’s girlfriend if you will.

The box won't open until one day when Shigure's lurking about the living room, as the boys do when they're waiting for Tohru to finish dinner, and he wonders aloud where Yuki is.

"He's, um, he's at his secret base," Tohru volunteers as she's bringing dishes to the table.

"Well," Shigure says to Kyou, shooing him toward the yard, "go on then and call him in for dinner. We can't let this good food get cold!"

No, Kyou says, he's not out there. "Secret base" isn't the codeword for his garden anymore, Yuki switched it to mean his girlfriend's apartment. He's at his girlfriend's apartment. And in all honesty Kyou's pretty sure that rat is spending the night.

And here Shigure is--and has been since summer break started--stuck living in this house, having to spend all his nights alone, unable to do with his girlfriend exactly what Yuki is theoretically doing with his own, just because he's an "adult" and isn't allowed to leave Kyou and Tohru unsupervised.

It isn't fair.

"Life's not fair," Akito tells him, a comment that isn't any less annoying for its truth. "You're a walking cautionary tale. This is what happens when you sleep around: you suddenly find yourself as the legal guardian of three children that you can't just move out on and abandon."

Akito kind of low-key thinks this is great, actually. She's more-or-less forgiven him about sleeping with her mom, sure, in the sense of forgiving as "I have to let this go and stop obsessing over this for my own sake, my making peace with this in no way condones his actions, but I'm okay and can get on with my life." But a little piece of her is still annoyed that--no matter how well things worked out in the end--her ploy to punish Shigure by banishing him from her presence and using the curse against him...really didn't work in the moment.

Now he's getting his comeuppance belatedly, and it's amazing. Now Shigure has to be apart from her, and he's suffering and chafing, and it's not even because of something Akito's doing to be petty.

Akito's even learning not to mind having an empty bed and no one she can call to get in it when she's lonely at night, the revenge is that great.

And it really is poetic justice, everywhere you turn. Yuki's apparently got a girlfriend he can spend the night with on the down-low whenever he wants. Kyou and Tohru are allegedly increasing their physical intimacy now that they've dropped the burden of the curse and all their respective baggage, and Shigure can't even find it in him to catch them at it and tease them most of the time because his own situation is just too depressing.

Then there's Dr. "I don't need a new love" who's suddenly changed up the way he puts his outfits together, as if someone other than the usual Souma staff is in his closet first thing in the morning, and who also just in general goes about his work with sickening contentedness. Even Ayame shows up one day like "I think this wedding band really enhances my innate royal elegance, you know, it's so nice to finally break it out, it took us a while to unearth those little boxes out of storage and then we had to polish the shine back on them a bit but my don't they look gorgeous now! Btw Mine's been my wife all this time and please feel free to send us your gift money now."

Everyone knows Haru and Rin have been sleeping together for a while now, Ritsu's making plans to move in with girlfriend Mitsuru, and Shigure can't even hang around with Kagura and Momiji to commiserate because they both get very scathing like, "Oh really, how terrible it must be to have an actual concrete plan for your life that you know is going to make you happy and satisfied, yeah, it's so horrible seeing everyone else all lovey-dovey when you have your own guarantee you just have to wait until March to seize on."

Shigure all but stalking around for the month of March like "Aya you better have gotten your brother an apartment, once he's graduated his ass better be out of here, I will throw him out on the street" and "Kazuma if Kyou and Tohru haven't talked to you about apartment-hunting then I will, I will even do actual work like researching neighborhoods and reading lease papers and helping to cover deposits whatever it takes they are not going to be in this house come April." Everyone else has already been living the happy ending they earned over half a year ago when all Shigure's plans culminated in fruition and now he's going to get his, this is a man with motivation. Desperation. Frustration. Whatever.

Instead of getting punched in the face, Shigure got a retribution that aged like a fine wine. And I'm gonna sit here and toast to that.

[itsthejuggernautbitch]

You Look Like Trouble (Morning Glory Wine - Cable/OC

Here’s chapter seven!

We’re getting close! Three more chapters after this one! (And don’t worry, the next chapter will be long. An apology for the long wait.

(And as always, not to be that person but if you’ve got the time and the inclination, kudos or a comment would be greatly appreciated.)

Taglist: @this-that-and-every-thing-else  @ptite-shit  @lesbianyondu  @chromecutie  @gallifreyangrandtorino  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @akihecko  @bigstarlightkingdom  @buckyjefferson  @lenavonschweetz

Colossus wasn't expecting Vivian to return to the mansion so soon, but when she rang the doorbell of the X-Mansion, he welcomed her with open arms. She'd been to the mansion twice in one year, an unprecedented event. Colossus was almost astounded - almost.

Colossus brightened considerably upon answering the door. “This is unexpected.”

Vivian had made her decision. Colossus knew what her answer would be, it was just a matter of when. And apparently when was now.

Vivian raised an eyebrow. "Is it unexpected, though?"

Colossus shrugged. "Not really. But I am glad to see you!"

"I'm glad to see you, too," Vivian replied. She crossed her arms, peering past Colossus into the depths of the mansion. “Can I come in?”

Colossus sensed that something was wrong, but he knew Vivian. She wouldn't answer his questions if he asked her how she was doing. She'd have to tell him on her own, if she told him anything at all.

“Of course.”

He put on a pot of coffee, busying himself with finding two clean mugs. "Am I correct to assume this is about our previous discussion?"

"You are correct, as you always are," Vivian replied, taking the coffee mug from him. The mug was purple with little flowers that spelled Ellie on it. The coffee was just how Colossus knew she liked it - black, two sugars. "I'll do it."

Colossus was quite honestly surprised to get such a glib answer from her. She could be blunt, but this was decisiveness to the point of uncharacteristic. "I will be honest, Vivian. I did not expect your answer so soon."

She almost rolled her eyes. "You knew I would say yes."

"Hoped, not knew."

Vivian swirled the coffee around in her mug. "Well, as soon as my lease is up, I'll get moved in here."

Colossus didn't drink coffee. He'd made tea for himself, which he took a delicate sip of. "That is more than acceptable. I will have your room ready."

"Rooms, as in plural. I need your help."

Ah, there it was. Colossus was surprised that she'd gotten to the point so quickly. It made him nervous.

"Anything, Vivian. You only need ask."

"Benji and Shelly both have mutations. I need to get them away from Jack."

Colossus set his mug down on the kitchen table. "Has something happened?"

"No, Shelly says he doesn't know." Vivian drained the rest of her mug. "But accidents happen, and if he finds out… You saw what he did to me. I can't imagine what he'll do to them."

"You do not have to lift a finger," Colossus replied. "We will go get them. No court order has bearing on us."

"Just get them away safely…"

"And I'd like to speak to Jack myself... You never let me near him."

Colossus being his gentlemanly self... It was the first time in a week Vivian had smiled. Perhaps she should have let him confront Jack all those years ago. It didn't matter now, and it was probably better that he hadn't. Colossus would take care of whatever she needed.

"Don't kill him, big guy. Although I appreciate the brotherly sentiment."

Colossus looked appalled, though it was mostly just a put-on. "Kill him? Never! Hurt his feelings... different story."

Vivian started collecting the mugs from the table to put them in the sink. If she was going to live here again, she supposed that this was just the beginning of her chore list. "I trust you, Piotr."

"I know. I will see that they are safe. It won't be today, but once I have a plan, I will take care of it."

Vivian hugged him, the first time she'd done so since she was a teenager. "Thank you."

-

Wade never claimed to be much of a planner. He was more of a do-er, a man of action - shoot first, think later. His method of firing random bullets at life had worked well for him for the past few decades, although “well” was more or less a subjective term. Nevertheless, his man-of-action method usually got him about as far as he needed to go. In fact, sometimes it worked so well that he could even talk a girl as stubborn as a mule into going back to work.

Wade managed to talk Vivian into pulling her shift that night via his "shoot until you hit something" method. He had to cry a little bit to convince her, but once he got one of those Cry-Baby tears to roll down his cheek (he could see his handiwork in the window reflection behind her head), Vivian gave in. And he may have threatened to tell Weasel her address.

Vivian had taken up her usual spot in the backroom. She’d had more than enough clients for the night to make up for her absence over the past week. In fact, some of the usual miscreants had let their minor wounds fester until she came back. Puckered, greenish stab holes were not what she’d hoped to see that night. Really, she’d hoped to fix a few broken bones, grab a drink, and make Wade or one of his buddies drive her home.

But things never really seemed to work out the way she wanted them to.

Both Weasel and Wade had been in and out of the backroom all night, which was strange because usually Wade had a job well before midnight and Weasel was too busy managing the bar. But they’d both been fluttering in and out, asking if she needed any supplies or a drink. She couldn’t tell if they were catering to her because she was back or because they were afraid she might leave. Wade had even sat in on a meeting with a patient who had to get his broken arm reset (the screaming was awful).

In any case, Vivian usually closed up shop around 2:00 AM, so when she got a knock on the door directly after that, she was a little perturbed. And it didn’t get any better, because when Vivian opened the door, it was Cable on the other side.

She paused, sighed, and shook her head. “Not happening.”

She shut the door again, but try as she might, she just couldn’t ignore the soft knock that sounded about a minute later. Like he’d hesitated, maybe even turned around to walk away, but thought better of it.

It was only when he knocked a third time, even more softly than the last, that she finally opened the door again.

She crossed her arms and stared him dead in the eye, wondering idly how many people had ever done that and not been stabbed. “If you’re not bleeding, the answer is no, you can’t come in.”

Cable grimaced a little, but didn’t flinch otherwise. “Can I at least apologize?”

“I don’t want an apology. I want an explanation.”

“The explanation is part of the apology.”

She signed again, more out of annoyance for herself than anything, but she stepped aside to let him in. “Fine. Come in.”

Honestly, Cable didn't have much of a game plan. He didn't think he'd get this far. He didn't think he'd even make it through the backroom door.

He hovered next to the examination chair, supremely uncomfortable. “I guess you have questions.”

Vivian stood directly in front of him, arms crossed. She glared at him, incredulous. “Uh, yeah?”

“Look, I’m sorry, I just-” he sighed. “Maybe if you just ask me-”

“Alright. Why did you kiss me if you’re married? Why didn’t you tell me that you’re married in the first place? I would have left you alone and I wouldn’t have embarrassed myself.”

"I... I don't know how to explain-"

"You've got ten seconds to figure it out before I walk out that door and leave you here to mop the blood off the floor for Weasel."

She tapped her foot, waiting for his response.

“I’m from the future,” he began, finally sitting down in the exam chair. He'd been on the receiving end of interrogations before, and this sure did feel like one. “I came here to save my wife and daughter. In my timeline, they were murdered.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear about your family.”

“I saved them - I think,” Cable replied. He stared at the wall, as if his mind was somewhere distant. “I had one charge left to get home, but I made the choice to use it to save your buddy Wade and stick around to stop the world from going to shit.”

Vivian, ever relentless, continued. “So if you consider yourself to be still married then why did you even entertain the idea of being more than friends?”

Cable stared back at her, doing his best to maintain the air of cool, calm, and collected - none of which he could say he actually was. “I take solace in the hope that I did my job and saved my family. My wife... I don’t think she'd want me to be stuck here miserable and alone. I don’t… But I didn’t think I’d even meet someone here I could… feel something for… in the way that I felt for her.”

She stared at him silently for a while, brown eyes searching his face for something unknown. She'd long since memorized the lines of his face - every scar, line, and mark - from their talks. She was looking for something more than skin-deep.

“I’m sorry Wade pushed you into my lap.”

“He didn’t push me," Cable said. "And I’m glad he brought me here.”

Vivian sat down in her chair, finally at eye level with him. She stayed a careful distance away - a safe distance away. Enough distance that she didn’t feel like getting up to hug him.

“I was raised in the X-Mansion. I left when I was eighteen because I was determined to go off to college and become a doctor. I got pregnant when I was twenty, got married, had my son. Made it through college. A year into medical school, I got pregnant again, which leaves something to be said about the quality of sex education at the X-Mansion because I obviously didn’t know how to make my ex-husband put on a condom.”

Cable’s eyebrow was quirked, but he didn’t say anything.

“When my son was nine, he got hit by a car. I came home to a yard full of sirens and flashing lights. I never thought he would be in the back of one, but he was. His leg was crushed and his lung burst. I managed to heal his lung and correct some of the damage to his leg.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He’s fine now. My ex-husband found out. He didn’t know I was a mutant, you see. He figured it out because how does one explain this kind of miracle, but for mutant abilities. He served me with divorce papers the next day, took both of my kids, called the hospital where I worked and had them fire me. I lost my kushy, fancy job that I loved and worked hard at, and I lost my kids. They live about two miles from here, and I don’t get to see them unless my ex-husband doesn’t show up to something.”

Cable didn't quite know what to say to that.

“We make a pair, don’t we?”

"Seems that way, doesn't it?"

They sat in silence for a while, not much else to say. Finally, Vivian reached out and took his hands in hers, but didn't say anything.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. What do I have to do to fix this?”

“Take me home.”

Again, he raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Not like that. I’m done for the night and I haven’t slept in days anyway. Just come and spend some time with me away from this dump where we can talk. This is not unsalvageable, but we need to work through some things first.”

Cable nodded. “Alright.”

When Vivian opened the door, she found a wall of people with their ears pressed to the wood. Several of them teetered and backed up, one of them fell flat on his face. Wade and Weasel were at the forefront, bar abandoned.

She rolled her eyes. “Y’all are some nosey bastards.”

-

Vivian climbed into the cab of Cable’s truck. The seats were soft, cushioned leather upholstery, cracked from age and peeling in places. The dash was equally as cracked and peeling - and a little sticky from sitting out in the hot sun. She had no idea what model it could be; she barely drove enough to know the model of her own car. Nevertheless, the front cab of the truck was comfortable and smelled like leather.

“I like this truck. It’s got character.”

When Cable crunk it up, it stalled a bit before roaring to life. “Stole it about a year ago from some hicks outside of town.”

“Yeah, seems more suited to hauling around a dog and a cooler of beer than Marty McFly and his futuristic supersoldier weapons.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

Vivian kicked her shoes off and put her feet up on the dashboard. “Back to the Future? Don’t worry, Wade and I will make you watch it. Are movies even still a thing where… when… you’re from?”

He smirked, amused by her familiarity. “Yeah, but I never had much time for them.”

“Well, you do now.”

Vivian rolled down her window to breathe the night air. The city was stale and damp, but the smell got less and less oppressive the further away they got from the red light district where Sister Margaret's was located. Skyscrapers gave way to office buildings and medical facilities. Parking decks became gated lots. And the closer they got to the interstate exit, the more Vivian didn't want to go home yet.

They rolled to a stop at the light.

Vivian caught his attention. “Hey, turn left here.”

“I thought we go right?”

“Just go with it.”

He turned left.

They drove until they were no longer in the city, until the skyscrapers and concrete and steel gave way to rolling hills and green fields and unnamed crops. Both of them had been silent since they left the city. They filled the silence with the sound of the radio, the breeze rushing through the open windows, and the cool night breeze filling the cab of the truck.

“Pull into that field.”

Cable did as she asked and pulled into the field, careful to tread only where he could already see the tracks of some farmer’s truck. Vivian reached into the backseat and grabbed her bag and jacket, along with a couple of Cable’s utility rolls and a worn denim jacket she found wedged up next to a pillow.

Cable watched her collect all of the stuff from his backseat. “What are you doing?”

“Humor me.”

She got out of the truck, let down the back gate, and threw everything into the bed of the truck, arranging it until the makeshift bed was relatively comfy. She marched back around to the passenger’s side and stuck her head in the window. She reached across the cab to turn up the radio, fiddling with the knobs until she found a station she was satisfied with.

“You coming?” she asked.

Cable blinked, but the corners of his mouth turned up into the barest hint of a real smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Vivian crawled up into the bed of the truck, clutching the denim jacket like a blanket. She leaned against the back window so that she could stare up at the sky. Cable climbed into the bed after her and settled in close next to her, his arm just barely brushing hers. The stars were bright, glittering like diamonds in the night sky.

“This makes me feel like a kid again,” Vivian said, pulling the denim jacket up under her chin. It smelled spicy - not dirty or musty, but worn and masculine and comfortable. “Growing up, my friends and I used to ride out into the fields and sit out arounds for hours listening to music and staring up at the stars.”

“Did you grow up here?”

“I grew up down south, until my mutation showed up. I think I was twelve or thirteen when I went to live at the X-Mansion. We used to sneak out late at night and come out here.”

“You can’t see the stars in my time.”

Vivian looped her arm through his, tucking his arm under the jacket with her. “Ten points for the past, then. It’s not so bad here.”

Cable looked down at her. “Not so bad at all.”

The song playing over the radio was an older country song - maybe Patsy Cline or some other old crooner. Vivian almost never used the radio anymore (too many commercials, not enough music). And she’d be hard-pressed to choose a country station if she did choose the radio, but there was something pleasant about the late-night country music radio shows - the ones that played the old, slow songs rather than the cute, pop-country party songs.

“You never really answered me earlier," Vivian said. "Why didn’t you tell me you were married? What made you think about… this? About me, I guess.”

“What would you have done if I told you I was married?”

“Honestly? Wouldn’t have come near you - beyond a professional capacity, of course.”

“I thought I’d processed things," Cable replied, staring off into the sky. "Come to terms with the fact that I’ll never see them again - that she wouldn’t want me to be alone and miserable.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“She is.”

“Why me, then?”

“You have compassion. Determination. Patience. I respect that. Why’d you reciprocate?”

“You’re heartfelt, even when you don’t mean to be. You’re not pushy. And you're funny, in your own way.”

Cable chuckled. "I've never been called funny."

"And I've never been called patient, but we see things in others that we don't see in ourselves." Vivian took his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “Anything else you need to tell me?”

“Name’s Nathan. Nathan Summers.”

“Duly noted.”

Vivian snuggled into his side, the weight of his arm warm and comforting. They stayed like that for about an hour, until Vivian was starting to doze off.

Cable carefully extricated himself from her grip, gently nudging her awake. “I guess we should go.”

Vivian yawned. “Yeah. I’m gonna end up falling asleep on the way back.”

“Go ahead - I’ll get us back to your place.”

The ride going home was much longer than the ride out to the field, as it always was. Vivian must have slept the whole ride because she didn't remember ever giving Cable directions. Nevertheless, Cable got them home in one piece and without shaking her awake.

When they pulled up to Vivian's apartment, Cable parked in one of the front spaces. He waited for her to grab her bag and jacket out of the back of the cab. She started to shrug the denim jacket off.

“You can keep the jacket,” Cable said. “It looks good on you.”

Vivian couldn't resist teasing him a little. “So you like when I wear your clothes?”

“Well, I guess I do.”

Vivian climbed down, and before she shut the door, she had a thought. Normally, she'd wouldn't be quite so keen on having someone stay the night right after an argument, but with his job being as dangerous as it was and her inability to stay awake some nights, now seemed as good a time as any.

She turned back to look at him. "Hey, uh, it's late, and I'd hate for you to have to drive back to… wherever you live… So, if you want to stay…"

Vivian couldn't call it a smile, but the corners of his mouth turned up in something close. "I've got nowhere to be. Be glad to."

She mirrored his grin. "Well, come on in then, cowboy."

[katelides]

Walking on sunshine - Bechloe Mini Fic pt 6

Chapter 6: Eternal Flame

The scooter ride towards the mystery destination was peaceful and calming. Neither girl had felt so at ease since their summer days 3 years ago. The cool breeze off the summer wind, blowing through their hair, looking out at the last rays of sunshine peaking through the clouds. It’s as if no time had passed at all.

Beca stops the scooter next to a pathway that leads up to some dunes. It all looked too familiar to the redhead, but she can’t put her finger on it. It was only when they were almost at the top that she realized where they were. This was the very beach they had met, the beach where they said ‘I love you for the first time, and where they said goodbye.

A single tear finds its way down Chloe’s cheek as a smile washes over her face. Beca pretends not to see it, but she knows how the redhead feels because she feels the same way. She used to come here every day just so she could think about Chloe. Up to this day, Beca goes there to get away from everything, it’s her happy place, Chloe made it her happy place.

The girls share a content yet knowing look right before running off towards the water. Chloe is the first to reach the water and runs it head first, causing her to fall into the cold water. Beca chuckles at the redhead but follows, more smoothly though. She splashes the redhead with water dives and swims a tad deeper into the ocean. They just have fun, forgetting about everything, even if it’s just for a brief moment.

Chloe decides to dive in as well, just because she can. When she comes up from the water to take a breath, it gets knocked out of her once again with the sight that she is being treated with. Beca is in the process of removing her shirt and her flawless figure and strong abs shimmer in the setting sunlight. The redhead quickly turns around, not knowing if she could actually hold her raging feeling in check if she kept staring.

She gets a pleasant surprise, though, when Beca suddenly swims up beside her underwater and appears in front of her. Her hair soaked and dripping while it just hangs, clinging to the brunette’s face. It looks funny, so Chloe starts laughing. Beca internally cheers at this victory, remembering how much Chloe laughed that one forgotten summer when she couldn’t see because of her hair.

The two of them chase each other around in the water, dunking the other at every chance they get. The laugh like they have never laughed before because right now they don’t have to pretend that they don’t know each other. They can finally be themselves, and it’s the greatest feeling in the world.

-,-,-,-,-

Meanwhile Maddie walks around in the city, questioning her decision to meet up with Doug. Even though she keeps telling herself that her love for him is over, something inside her keeps pulling her back to him. It’s hard to walk away from a 5 year relationship, even one as toxic as Doug.

The brunette slowly makes her way towards the address that Doug text her a few hours ago. It was a pretty weird place to meet up, it is away from all the restaurants and there are barely any people living around it. But who is she to doubt Doug’s decisions.

It’s only when she enters through the gate, that it all seems to make sense. Gentle harp music is being played by an actual harpist who is sitting next to a table for 2, with Doug already sitting at it, in the middle of the ancient ruins. Doug never did something small, it’s not his style.

“Low key, huh?” Maddie muses as she makes her way down the steps of the amphitheatre. “You deserve a decent send off.” Doug says casually, only getting up from his seat when Maddie is almost at the bottom of the stairs, meeting her so he can take her to her seat. “You look stunning.” He says as he reaches out his hand with a coy smile. “Well, I’m in love.” Maddie throws back without missing a beat.

“But then you always look stunning.” Doug almost whispers, leading Maddie to her chair. He pulls it out as a real gentleman and pushes it back in when Maddie has sat down. “Huh, my favourite.” Maddie mutters when Doug shows her the expensive Champaign bottle and pours her a flute.

Doug fills one up for himself and lifts his glass. “To a new beginning.” He says. “To that I can drink too.” Maddie answers and then proceeds to take a he sip of the champaign, still having a bad gut feeling about the entire ordeal.

“Remember the first time we had a bottle of it?” Doug asks, trying to caress Maddie but stops when she pulls away. “We stayed up all night. Watched the sun come up. You said you could listen to my voice forever.” Maddie rolls her eyes at the memory. “No, I probably said it felt like I had been listening to your voice forever. And if I remember rightly, you only ever talked about yourself.”

Doug smirks down at the brunette. “No, I don’t believe that’s true, my baby kitten. I’m sure you talked about me too.” Maddie lets out a heavy sigh at the cocky nature of her ex. “Oh god, what am I doing here?” She asks, knowing there is an arterial motive behind the romantic dinner. “Right,” Dough sighs heavily. “come home.”

“No, here. I’m getting married in the morning.” Maddie says strong headed, trying to make the simple fact clear to her ex. “Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.” Doug shoots back matter of factly. “No, I’m trying to get it into your thick head.”

“Fine… Fine, you want to get back at me, I understand. But don’t mess up things for yourself and that poor girl in the process. Maddie is slowly starting to lose her patience with the older man but holds herself tight. “Doug, believe it or not, but not everything is about you.” Doug lets out an incredulous breath. “Puh-lease… you’re only doing this to punish me.”

Maddie rolls her eyes and balls her fists underneath the table. “No, I came here to find myself.” The brunette takes a hesitant break before continuing. “And I did…. In Beca.” Doug leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, making sure he has eye contact with Maddie. “And, I,” He starts. “Would like to find myself… in you.”

A groan escapes the brunette as she’s lost for words. “Come on, Mads, 5 minutes you’ve known this girl, 5 minutes.” Maddie shakes her head. “5 weeks.” She corrects him swiftly. “And she has gotten to know me better than you have in 5 years. Do you want to know why?” She asks rhetorically. “You didn’t let her do that thing I wanted to do, did you?”

Leave it to Doug to make everything sexual. “Ooooh, you filthy little squirrel.” The man adds once the initial reaction is a heavy sigh. “She listens to me.” Maddie defends herself. “I listen to you.” Doug counters just as quickly. “Oh please, you don’t le-“

“I love listening to you.” The greying man interrupts loudly, making Maddie sit back in her seat with another heavy sigh. “I love listening to…” Doug stands up slowly, and makes his way towards the brunette. “those three little sighs you make in your sleep.” Kneeling down in front of her he continues. "That crazy singing of yours in the shower.” Slowly leaning towards Maddie, whispering. “ That noise you made that night at the George Stays.” Maddie’s lip slightly curls up at the memory. “I think all of Paris heard that.”

“It was, a… wonderful night, and this is… wonderful.” The brunette sighs deeply. “This stuff you’re wonderful at, the chase, its the follow through that lets you down. I wanted more, Doug. I wanted marriage.” Finally having thrown the truth into Doug’s face, Maddie feels slightly relieved.

Of course Doug manages to ruin even that slight moment of hope for the brunette. “We were perfect as we were. Why spoil it?” Maddie gives up and rolls her eyes. “No, do you know what’s perfect? We never have to have this conversation again because I found true happiness.” Doug shakes his head in amusement. “That kid will never be man enough for you.”

“Beca is young, yeah, and she’s a woman, but she’s a grown up. You are not young, but you’re a child.” Doug just scrunches up his nose with a smile. “Thank you.” Maddie throws her hands up. “That wasn’t a - wha- argh… You don’t even want to grow up.”

Maddie gets up from her chair and is now standing at eye level with Doug. “The thing about Peter Pan…” Once again she gets interrupted by the infuriating man. “He could fly.” He says, as if he is speaking to a five year old. “He ends up alone.” Maddie says with a sigh.

Not giving Doug any opportunity to say anything else, Maddie walks away. Knowing where she belongs, and it definitely was not here with the millionaire.

-,-,-,-,-

Back at the beach, Chloe is peacefully watching the sunset, walking around in the water. This had been by far one of the most strange, maddening, yet amazing days of her life. And being here, with Beca, was just so surreal.

The redhead walks back to the towels on the beach, where Beca is laying peacefully. “It’s beautifu-“ Chloe stops talking when she sees Beca gently sleeping. Looking even more beautiful with the setting light that grazes over her. Chloe starts singing softly to the brunette.

“Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling. Do you feel my heart beating, do you understand? Do you feel the same? Am I only dreaming?” Chloe stands up and walks away from the brunette, not wanting to disturb her peaceful sleep nor wanting to burst into tear. “Is this burning an eternal flame.”

The redhead walks back to the water, looking back at the sleeping brunette. Memories rushing back is at the speed of light. I believe, this was meant to be, darling. I watch you when you are sleeping. You belong with me. Do you feel the same? Am I only dreaming. Is this burning an eternal flame?”

Chloe is so lost into her song that she doesn’t notice Beca waking up. “Say my name. The sun shines through the rain, a whole life so lonely, then you come and ease the pain.” The brunette watches and listens to the girl she fell in love with years ago. The girl she never fell out of love with. “I don’t wanna lose this feeling.”

Beca gets up from her towel and slowly makes her way towards the redhead. Once she’s close enough, she takes  Chloe’s hands and gently pulls her closer. Their eyes lock and the world around them disappears. They lean in closer, and closer.

Their lips almost meet, but Chloe can’t do that to her sister. She breaks free from the magical spell around her and runs. She runs up the dunes, as far away from Beca as she possibly can. The brunette, once she wakes up from her daze, follows the love of her life, trying to catch up with her.

Chloe dashes into the house and runs straight to her room, closing the door behind her, hoping that no one was home to see her like this. Scared, confused, angry… The redhead sits down on her bed, trying to catch her breath and to sort out her thoughts.

She doesn’t really get a chance, as Beca bursts into her room. The brunette stares at Chloe, wide eyes, out of breath, with a shimmer of hope in her eyes. “I need to know.” She says. Chloe stand up from the bed and rushes past Beca into the other room. “You can’t be here.”

“Something happened back there.” Beca says, not giving up, not again. “No…” Chloe says head strong. “Tell the truth.” Beca almost shouts as she grabs the redhead’s wrist to pull her back so they can face each other. “The truth about what?” Maddie asks as she walks in after her rendez-vous with Doug.

Suddenly the lights jump up and a group of Maddie and Beca’s friends jump out yelling surprise, catching everyone of guard. The group immediately stop their celebrating once they feel the tension in the room.

Beca walks forward, trying to think of n explanation to give to her soon to be wife. Though she doesn’t have to do that. “Oh my god, it’s her… She was the girl… She’s the ex?” Maddie questions, trying to comprehend what’s going on.

“Mads I’m so sorry it’s all my fault.” Chloe starts. “Yeah b-but I-I can explain…” Beca interrupts, trying to be helpful but gets shot down almost instantly by Chloe. “Please, I can do this… She was the girl. A girl… and I didn’t want to tell you because it was nothing. And then you kept going on at me about how I never let anyone in, and I started thinking… did I make a terrible mistake? Then we were on the beach covered in tomatoes, and there was this sunset…” Maddie takes a step back, terrified of what is coming next. If her sister still loved Beca, she would take a step aside for her. It’s the least she could ever do for her baby sister.

“Then suddenly it was three years ago, and I looked at her…” Chloe looks at Beca, their eyes meeting. “… into her eyes, and I knew…” Chloe freezes, knowing that if she tells the truth she will ruin her sisters wedding but if she doesn’t she’ll never be able to voice her thought ever again. The choice was clear.

“…I don’t feel anything for her.” The pain in her heart would go away, yet the look on Beca’s face, the look of betrayal and hurt would always be there, engraved in her mind. “I never did.” The redhead continues, more trying to convince herself of that fact.

“She has been desperate to tell you because she doesn’t want to keep secrets from you, but I didn’t want you to know because… I didn’t want to spoil everything. Well, you always make such a huge drama out of everything.” Maddie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in and rolls her eyes because she knows her sister is right. “Which is why you two are so perfect together.” Chloe looks at her sister and Beca while they are looking at each other. “But now I’m the one who has ended up making a huge drama out of nothing. I know have been a really shit, and I’m so so sorry.”

Maddie stays quiet for moment, trying to process everything. “Is this true?” She asks Beca, needing to hear it from her fiancé. Beca thinks about what she should answer. “Yes” She answers truthfully. “And do you still have feelings for her?” Beca loved Chloe but she loves Maddie, and they have made a commitment to each other, one she would never break. No matter how much it hurt. “No, I feel absolutely nothing for her.”

Chloe can feel her heart shatter but it’s for the best. Her sister finally found someone that makes her happy, and that should make her happy. She hears her sister sigh and apologises again. Maddie doesn’t get a chance to react as Fat Amy clears her throat.

“Hen night? As in, I don’t want to see you again until the church in the morning.” Beca nods and takes a step back, then walking around the Australian to kiss Maddie on her cheek. No one dares to say anything as the brunette walks away and out of the house, to prepare for her night out with her brother, Mikey and Benji.

Once Beca has left, Chloe is the first to break the silence. “I-I should probably just go.” Making Fat Amy sigh. “Yeah…” Maddie says, no remorse evident in her voice. Chloe knew this reaction would be expected, but it still hurt. No one dares to say anything to stop it though.

“Well what are you waiting for? It’s my hen party already, you look like shit, go get changed already.” A huge weight is lifted from the room. And Chloe lets out a relieved breath but still something gnaws at her. “Are you sure you still want me there?” She asks, just to be sure. “Don’t be stupid C, we all make mistakes.”

“Oh yes, and tonight I am planning to make a whole lot more.” Fat Amy says with a devious grin, Maddie joining in instantaneously.  

[mikazukikannagisjourney]

A Deeply Personal Post about Suicide

A very personal and dark post about depression, its relapse, and suicide**

*you have been warned*

**A post with a whole lotta trigger warnings~ STAY AWAY if you can’t, or if you must. Otherwise, thank you for taking your time reading. This is not clickbait, and definitely not for the faint-hearted. You have been warned. Don’t blame me for any negative effects**

Yes, there, I have said it. I always had the urge to write this down but I kept getting depressed over and over and I really can’t write it if I’m still in that dark, constricting place. But I am so far OK so I shall be posting this stuff. If this post prevents at least, or even just one person from taking their own life and gets a new lease in life then my broken and torn heart will have its peace. It’s harder to live and easier to die. But if you’re spiritually awakened, then the commitment to stay alive is even more pressing. I salute you for staying alive. You can do it!

OK, that’s enough cheery stuff for now. Anything beyond this point can turn dark and ugly in a manner of letters so again, if this is a strongly-triggering topic for you, and you can’t face it, that’s ok. Just stay away, till you think you can handle this. Also I wrote this on the morning of August 28, 2019 but I also had to purge the energies on this post so it would be healing more than destructive, so it pops up a day later as a queued post.

Edit: accidentally clicked POST instead. Not that I mind, I was gonna anyway. Divine realm kept nagging me so.. here you go. 😆

I *MAY* HAVE BEEN BATTLING DEPRESSION AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS SINCE I WAS A CHILD

I don’t think I have the need to completely spell out what depression is because again, the internet can do that for you. I will just focus on how it was, and is still manifesting in my life. But how did it materialized in my life then? Well... Mostly I just internalized all of my demons. If I was angry or upset or I feel envy or jealousy, I just sucked it all in. My household growing up was a battlefield of emotional suppression, thus I can’t cry, throw a tantrum, even laugh out loud for being too happy. What’s even more ironic is that I am actually a very emotional person, which made a whole lot of sense once I understood my natal astrological, human design, and gene key charts. So even if my sun was in Gemini and my ascendant in Libra, I pretty much have all the water signs in my chart as well, along with having a strong sacral center that thrives on generating emotionally-charged energy, and that’s where the waterworks come from. Thus the fact that I’m a Gemini cry-baby who gets too-emotional at just about anything makes perfect sense now.

But back to the subject at hand: Emotional Suppression caused my mental instability and depression. Because each time I had to stop expressing what I feel deep inside, I feel like I kept killing a part of me. Each time I kill a part of me, a gaping hole in my heart and soul would grow even larger. Like literally I feel chest pains as a child, which of course don’t show up on laboratory exams and thus I have been deemed healthy, a lot. I already started wanting to kill myself around 7 years of age, because I was forced to grow up quickly so I could take care of my siblings and myself. I really hated myself and the world a lot because I can’t do what I want and I can’t have anything I want, among other things. I mostly play alone, which was fine until the thoughts of wanting to die keep coming up. Maybe for some people these things are nothing, and they’ll start bragging about their own difficulties and that’s OK, I mean, what you feel will always ring true to you, no matter what the world tells you. The brain can lie to you, but your heart and your emotions never will. Feelings and emotions are always true, and what you feel is always valid. If something hurt you or made you happy, it’s because you have those things inside you. If people trigger you deliberately, then that’s on them. If you get triggered by other people, well that’s a whole other matter... BUT, whatever you do when acting under that feeling or emotion is entirely up to you, and you cannot blame other people for making you act in certain ways. Remember, YOU ALWAYS HAVE A CHOICE IN YOUR ACTIONS, THUS THE CONSEQUENCES ARE ALSO OF YOUR OWN DOING. The bottomline is: PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GLOB DON’T PLAY DOWN WHAT I AM WRITING HERE AND SAY THAT I’M IN THE WRONG. This entire thing is a personal account, and it’s mine. I get to write this thing because the whole thing is based on what I have experienced. *see? I told you I easily get emotional lol*

I got sidetracked, I apologize. OK, now back to regular programming

Anyway, thoughts of killing myself got even more intense, especially with not meeting parental expectations as well as neglect, abandonment, and rejection issues that popped up as time went on. To be honest though, I was, and still am a bit surprised that I haven’t taken my own life then, and up to this point. Either it’s because I am highly-sensitive to pain *my pain threshold is quite low*, or because I am still trying to find ways to kill myself without the hassle or pain. Basically I fear pain more than death. I guess that’s one of my major motivators for not choosing to end it yet. I just hate physical pain in all forms, even more so right now. So even if it kills me inside, I try to live one day at a time. Back then, I had to live because my siblings need me to cook their food, and I had to do my sister’s homework (she has autism spectrum disorder, which my parents just chose to ignore because they have no idea how to interact with special needs).

How is depression connected with suicide? Well, for one thing the hopelessness, helplessness, feeling worthless, or thinking that living is not worth it can just push a person to the edge. I am quite familiar because I have lost a sizeable number of people ranging from relatives to friends, to classmates and even a work trainee from suicide. I haven’t even counted those who died from natural deaths, those who got killed either in combat or by rebels, or through illnesses. The suicide-related ones just affect me so much because I felt survivor’s guilt, because I haven’t ended my life yet and these “seemingly-happy” people did. My stomach got all knotted up right now, just thinking about it. Especially when I recalled the trainee that killed themselves due to depression. I didn’t mentor them personally but I sorta felt that this person had depression and again, I didn’t reach out. Even then when I was already aware of being an empath and all that jazz. I just gave myself a break after sometime because to be honest, I had no idea how to heal others back then. So... Yeah. But still, survivor’s guilt is real.

RELAPSE ISSUES CONCERNING SUICIDAL THOUGHTS (HOW I HAD THEM)

This is the part where I will be explaining based on my own experiences why some people who were openly-depressed that “seemed” to have gotten a lot happier and brighter suddenly end their own lives with no warnings. Not sure about other people’s ideas, living or dead, but for me, it’s all about the relapse.

Depression relapse, that is. You may be much more familiar with alcoholics or drug-addicts who went to rehab, got all better *or so it seems* but then goes to relapse and either ends up getting even more addicted or worse, having an overdose and dying. Well, again, this is based on my own experiences but for me, because I am not on any kind of medication for my chronic depression so naturally, despite all my conscious efforts on fending it off, it comes back, with a vengeance. All the pain that I feel, all the thoughts that consume what small speck of happiness I have left become even stronger than before, and whatever I did to relieve myself of the pain just stop working no matter how many times I do it. Everything just feels sucky and my pains do not get relieved. I just cry and cry and let the wave pass, allowing a bit of relief, but then they just come back in waves of endless and bottomless anger and feelings of doom and gloom. It feels like I’m forever falling into the abyss of nightmares and frankly, the only solution I see clearly at that point is again, killing myself. Again, because I’m scared of pain, I did whatever I can to escape the pain, thus me ending up learning a lot of bankable and unbankable skills that, quite frankly amused some people I meet once the depression has been controlled somewhat and I got to socialize again.

If I survive long enough to at least raise my happiness levels a bit, I can continue to live, even for a day. I just tell myself “Well, I guess I’ll just have to die another day.” For each time that I tried to escape my pain and my urge to kill myself, I find something new to experience, learn, and have fun with. Thus, the skills I have, the dumb experiences I had, the movies and shows I gave so much of my love to, the ties to people I hold dearly, were not only borne out of a small curiosity, but mostly to prevent myself from ending my life right now. I don’t know how people will react to that, but for me, my hobbies, my passions, are not just due to the fact that these things are worthwhile. For me, these are my LIFELINES. If I didn’t have them, I MIGHT HAVE DIED A LONG TIME AGO. These are also the reasons why despite how many people or the public would shame other people for having weird hobbies or passions, I just let them be happy. I like seeing passionate people, because not only do they look so happy and pure, but also because for me, that might also be their lifeline. So that they CAN STAY ALIVE, because LIFE SUDDENLY HAS MEANING. And who am I to tell them what they or what they cannot do? *unless it’s illegal or hurts other people deliberately, or both. I have limits*

And... Unfortunately, for some of the people who took their own life out of their own accord they may not have been fully aware of it, but when they got out of the funk, they might have thought that YES I AM NOW FREE FROM ALL THAT GUNK. I’M GONNA BE HAPPY, I CAN LOOK FORWARD TO THE FUTURE, ETC. ETC. but noooope, depression is pretty clingy. It comes at the most inconvenient time, right about the time when you thought you’re almost at your goal, or at the time when you feel like you’re about to have that breakthrough. Once anybody who has been recovering from depression falls back into it, the urges, the pain, everything just gets even worse. Everything sucks maybe a hundredfold compared to last time, maybe a million times more. Everything just feels so overwhelming, and heavy, and it cuts through your entire being. The way out just got caved in and now there is no way out other than suicide. THAT FEELS AND SEEMS LIKE THE ONLY WAY. And for some of these people who actually take the plunge and succeed, this is the part where their loved ones who were left behind would comment things like “But I thought they were happy.. They were looking forward to the future.. They had so many plans.. They weren’t showing any signs...” etc. etc. Of course they won’t, and they probably had plans. If anything, they probably wanted to get out of the funk for the rest of eternity. BUt DEPRESSION IS ONE CLINGY F****R my friends, seriously. It is. It will slam everything in your face if it isn’t properly handled, either though holistic means or modern medicine methods, it will certainly choke out the light of any person who just do not have the means to fight it, let alone keep it at bay. Especially when it gets pushed aside. A lot. Each time you succeed at pushing it away or dealing with it, if it creeps into your being, even through just a small crack, it comes to you with a force stronger than a wrecking ball. It’s more of an avalanche. And it will bulldoze anything away till the entire path has been completely covered. Still scary as heck. Thus with each round of its return, it gets more and more strong, thus the need for better ways of fending it off. Or better yet, just facing it head on by all means necessary.

FACING (MY) DEPRESSION HEAD-ON (BY ALL MEANS NECESSARY)

Disclaimer: Again, before I start this section, I will remind everyone that this entire post is all my personal experiences as well as my own opinions on this matter, so please do not take this as a medical or health advice. You can take this as a spiritual advice and you can even ask me about it. I’m glad to help. Other than that, please seek professional help. BY ALL MEANS NECESSARY. I am not responsible for any losses of any kind due to following my own personal methods here, any bodily harm or mental injuries sustained by the end user are done of their own accord, and I am not liable for such losses. Everything here with regards to methods are RISKS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

OK. Now that’s out of the way, I will now write here how I deal with my own depression and suicidal thoughts,assuming that I’m still here. I’m not saying that I will not kill myself yet, but I am fully aware that other things can kill me and therefore those won’t count. Also, I haven’t watched the entire Fantastic Beasts franchise yet, and my need-to-watch anime and series lineup is still long, plus Avatar The Last Airbender is gonna be on Netflix next year so nope, I still need to live. 

Kidding aside, here is what I USED TO DO whenever the relapse comes in full-swing:

Binge-watch anything I’m interested in

Binge-read whatever is available

Binge-doing whatever activity I’m into at the moment (drawing, reading Tarot cards, learning Japanese, cooking weird food, etc.)

Binge-like anything on my tumblr feeds

Get super-obsessed with the canon and headcannon biographies of fictional characters (Hi wikia and AO3 lolol)

Cry and cry and cry even if I don’t know why (It doesn’t even matter how hard I try lolol did you sing that part in your head lol kidding I am trying to lighten up things here)

Of course, after doing all of these, I eventually end up wanting to die because the problem or the cause of my depression remains unsolved. Notice that I didn’t put “contacting close friends” or “connecting to loved ones” there. Because I don’t. I was never raised to ask for help, I was raised to do shit alone. And that also killed a huge part of me because quite frankly, I know that I need help but whenever I tried to reach out I get put-out or shushed, so eventually I never bothered to ask for any help. I just stuck it out all alone. While this method is typically great for doing GROUP PROJECTS by yourself (and cursing the other members out loud or in your head), this is definitely NOT ADVISABLE when dealing with mental health issues. Of course I didn’t know these back then, there was no internet, I didn’t have friends or relatives to talk to, plus I had no idea (or the people around me for that matter) that I was actually depressed. At 7 years old. Maybe 6. Around that time. This was in the early 90s.

But in this day and age, thanks to the internet, more and more information can be shared. Even better is that support groups are actually available, and you can join forums too, so people get to share so many stuff. Of course, I tried that, and it worked for about 6 months before I realized that in most groups I joined in, they weren’t exactly dealing with the depression in the most empowering way, so I got stuck in the victim mentality for a very long time. And the cycles of off-on depression mode kept getting worse each time. That’s when I decided to do things differently, and again, without drugs. FACING THE DEMONS IN MY HEAD is what I call it.

These are currently my go-to combination of methods when dealing with a depression relapse:

Shadow Work - Originally by Carl Jung, the principle is basic: identify the parts of yourself that you rejected due to external pressure, and heal them by understanding why it was rejected and suppressed, releasing the emotional charge by crying it out or something to that effect, and accepting that rejected part fully and without any regret. These aren’t the exact steps by Jung, but I just modified the method for myself. It’s pretty harsh because you need to face past trauma without any emotional attachments, and well, it can also do more harm than good. Only recommended to be done with a professional. Unless you’re a masochist. Just search the internet for Carl Jung and Shadow work for more info, I’m sure it’s quite famous.

Inner child healing - same as previous, but this time focusing more on the inner child (duh). Usually anything that persists for me, I would readily attribute to inner child issues so I would go to that part of myself and relive the trauma. Then pat my inner child and hug her till I stopped crying. By the way, crying is definitely included in almost every step. It’s soothing and also is a great way to transmute trauma. Provided that you’re fully aware of how the trauma happened and you’re able to release it fully. Again, if symptoms persist, consult a professional.

Kundalini Yoga and Meditation - amazingly there are many methods or kriyas and some are for dealing with depression. I call this method “killing two birds with one stone”, mainly because you get a real hard-core workout especially the upper body, and you lift your spirits up. Just search the internet for various methods, but I think 3HO is the one-stop shop for binge-reads. Again, crying is very much a part of this method because at some point, it will all just flow out.

Sound therapy - crystal singing bowls, gongs, tingshas, binaural sounds, isochronic music, subliminal messages, the works. I usually go to Youtube and just binge whatever I need at the moment. Sometimes I feel at peace, other times I just randomly cry. It just happens.

Energetic healing - again, there are numerous methods. I usually go for Reiki since it works for me, and because I can channel a bit more energy either from the original video or music, or on my own. Crying is again, an optional but very helpful step.

Emotion Code - This is the latest method I have learned, and tried. Created by Dr. Bradley Nelson, this method allows suppressed emotions, those you experienced yourself as well as the ones you inherited to be released from your body. You only need this chart, a fridge magnet, and determination. Also crying, if you can.

The stuff in my WHAT I USED TO DO list. - Seriously, self-healing depression is a very tiring and exhausting activity. Please, by all means, make yourself happy. In fact, YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY TO SURVIVE THIS GRUELLING ACTIVITY. Whatever means necessary. Don’t worry, I won’t judge.

Other methods I tried in the past:

Parts work - It is like Shadow Work, but the rejected parts of your self have different age groups. I discovered it before Shadow work and for a while I tried my best to do it, but I still didn’t mesh with it after 2 months so I did Shadow Work instead. Maybe I’m just not cut out for it. I recommend the late Pete Gerlach’s website for more info and even methods and stuff. Super-educational, with some drawbacks. Still it maybe useful for others so please take a look.

Diet adjustments - Some say that food and nutrition affects moods,and maybe yeah, because many foods do create metabolites that become converted into chemicals that eventually become hormones. But for me, it didn’t work as well as the other methods. I mean, I eat a lot of veggies and fruit even before I was depressed and spritually awakened, and quite frankly nothing in this area changed me so I don’t include this in my list.

Again, note that I still haven’t included talking to other people in my list. Because again, I just can’t accept help properly, and I still want to do things on my own. HOWEVER, I tell the people I care for the most and also care for me that I HAD a depression relapse. I tell them after I won the battle, even for that moment. It kinda helps a lot. But this time I don’t want to energetically tie myself to others, I have to transmute my own shit so people won’t have to get mine. I also shield myself so their stuff won’t stick to me. It’s how I understand how karma should be worked out of our systems, it’s a DIY thing. Otherwise you just add more karma on top of your own.

Well, I don't know how to end this post, apart from the fact that this is still an on-going process for me. Case in point, honestly I am literally crying right now as I type this last part out. It took me 5 hours to type and it's a post worth almost my entire life so far, but I hope it's all worth it, for anyone who needs help in any way. I am not glorifying depression or suicide or even addictions here, I am putting this out there as information. This post has been at the back of my mind since the Lion's gate but I relapsed and I just got back so I could write it as orderly as I can. So please, I hope this post won't be misquoted or skewed or even be taken out of context. Again, this is mostly for educational purposes only. Especially when you feel like you're in the dark night of the soul.

Anyway, I hope this was helpful in any way possible. If you need any help *spiritual and/or energetic only, not a doctor guys* just shoot a comment or a message, and I'll see what I can do.

I hope you find the healing you seek. In love and hugs from Source above.

Mikazuki

三日月

**Special Note: While this whole thing is free to heart, share, attach a link-back of the original html (href, if you know what I mean), and to cite in any style (APA, MLA, Turabian, etc.) around 10-20% of its content, please, under any circumstances, FOR THE LOVE OF GLOB DO NOT COPY AND PASTE AND DECLARE THIS AS YOUR OWN. These are my own personal experiences, basically these are parts of myself that I need to transmute in order to heal. However, as this is already an output it is now included in the do-not-steal-entirely-or-else sections of the internet. Especially for people who just simply steal other people’s work as their own. I used to work as an editor and even now I do my best to cite sources, or at the very least insert links to sources that I actually used. Be respectful of content creators, large or small. Don’t take away from us the things that we made with all of our hearts. Those are the only things that help keep us up. Also, because you have no right do that you know. And just a reminder, Karma is a real b****. Just saying. Thank you very much for understanding. PS. If you found the information in this post to be very helpful, insightful, and of great value to you and your own personal journey, please feel free to reblog, share and heart/like, or if you feel super-generous, energetic exchanges are welcomed! Please click here and use this email address: may_chan_otaku@yahoo.comThank you so much and be blessed!