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agustdtown1 · 3 days ago

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CLOSER TO YOU [JJK]

PAIRING: nerdy!roommate!jungkook x fem!OF!reader

GENRE: smut, roommates au, nerdy!jk, photography major!jk, friends to fuck buddies.

SUMMARY: After getting various comments about your poor filming skills for your OF page, you finally decided to give in and reach out to the one person that could help you with your problem. However, what started as your roommate just helping you to film your video turned into you begging him to fuck you.

How long would it take for Jungkook to finally give in? After all, all he ever wanted was to be closer to you.

WC: 8,7k

WARNINGS: smut, masturbation, fingering, voyeurism, dirty talk, nerdy!jungkook going from shy to freaky to shy and freaky again. Pet names, jungkook with glasses (that NEEDS a warning idc), jk being completely whipped for reader but also mocking her and being a little shit when he got into it. Use of “good girl” (1), mention of only fans and adult content. If I’m missing something lmk!

A/N: part one is finally out!! I honestly feel nervous to post again and I really hope you guys enjoy this one! lmk what you think in the comments or sending an ask, enjoy ur reading <3!

masterlist

“I need a favor.”

You barging into his room along with those three words were enough to break the quiet and cozy atmosphere that your roommate had going on. He was sitting in his gaming chair, with his headphones covering his ears and glasses slightly falling off the bridge of his nose. Jungkook looked startled, with his big, round eyes staring at you as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, when in reality a loud and violent video game was the only thing playing on his computer screen.

“H-Hi to you too.” His response and his rapid way of blinking let you know that Jungkook was not expecting you to come into his room unannounced, however, there was not a single complaint flying out of his mouth. More often than not, you would invade his personal space with your overenthusiastic self, chatting his ear off about some new gossip from your class that he was not really interested in, but Jungkook being Jungkook could never tell you to shut up, even when it was needed. “What do you need? Is everything okay?”

A pang of guilt spread through your chest by the way he completely abandoned whatever game he was playing to put his undivided attention on you when he noticed how distressed you were; what you were about to ask him was far from being a serious or urgent matter, but rather something that might bring chaos and awkwardness into your friendship. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you decided to entertain the idea of asking for Jungkook’s help. All you knew is that Eunbi, your best friend, was very eloquent while suggesting your roommate as a solution for your problem, and while you weren’t exactly desperate, you didn’t want to spend more time thinking of other alternatives either.

So here you were, hoping that the following minutes would remain the same after you inevitably tell Jungkook the truth.

“Y/n…? Is everything alright?” He asked once again, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, right! It is. I just…” A frustrated sigh escaped your lips. “I need a huge favor, but I don’t know how to tell you.”

“You know you can tell me anything, I’m here for whatever you need.” His tender smile made that guilty feeling become stronger.

You tried to find the words to voice the idea running through your mind without making this situation painfully weird, but nothing could really prevent the inevitable awkward silence that was bound to be installed between you two once you put it all out.

The favor and the help you needed was regarding your line of work, something that Jungkook was pretty much aware of, but never fully involved in. Being a creator for adult content, more specifically for only fans, was already hard enough to explain to him when he moved in with you a few years ago, but somehow you managed to make it seem as if it wasn’t a big deal. You thought that it would be a dealbreaker, that Jungkook would run far away from you and never even consider being your roommate when you told him you made content for only fans, however, after a few days, he willingly showed up at your apartment with boxes full of his belongings and a shy smile, telling you that he was ready to live with you.

That memory was the only thing keeping you from running out of his room and hiding inside your own until the embarrassment subsided, instead, it helped you to follow through with your plan and accept the outcome of this, like the confident woman that you were.

However, the long pauses that you were taking to organize your ideas were starting to worry the brown-eyed boy in front of you. He’s never seen you like this before, hesitating and so unsure of yourself. Your confident demeanor would often throw him off, and the way you so surely carried yourself wherever you went was a stark contrast to his shy and awkward way of living, but that’s something Jungkook was used to, that’s how things worked between you two. You were the easygoing, extroverted friend that would strike up a conversation with almost anyone, while he was the quiet, shy and reserved friend that was ready to lend his shoulder if you ever needed a good cry.

But this, the way you were so notoriously nervous and preoccupied was something new for Jungkook, a new side of you that he never thought he would see.

“Listen, Y/n, you don’t have to tell me right now. I’ll help you with anything you need, but if you feel like it’s too much in this moment, you can talk to me about it whenever you’re rea–”

“I need you to help me film a video for my page.”

There, you said it, it was all set in stone, with no way to go back. No backtracking, no regretting, no way to undo it. Your words hung in the air with a heavy weight falling upon you two. If Jungkook was startled when you came into his room, he was completely dumbfounded after listening to what you needed.

“Co-Come again.” It wasn’t the smartest way to ask you to repeat yourself, but it sure fit into the conversation. “I-I mean, are you seriously asking me to do what I think you’re asking?”

He wasn’t stupid, Jungkook was familiar with your work, and while he didn’t consume your content, apart from a few pictures he looked at while scrolling through your page out of curiosity, the boy knew exactly what your deal was. Posting your whole body on the internet for almost anyone to see was the easiest way to describe your job; making videos, taking pictures that left little to the imagination for the people that came across your profile, even going as far as hosting lives to chat with your followers and sometimes cater to their filthy needs. That’s the kind of job you had, the kind of things you were willing to do, and it was crystal clear how comfortable and okay you were with it.

Jungkook had never judged you or questioned what you did for a living, not once in the years he’s known you, mainly out of respect and because it was none of his business, but also because he didn’t want to think or imagine the things you did in front of the camera. Now, however, he might have to, because what you were asking of him was more than what he was expecting from you.

Asking him to cook dinner, fix your laptop or pick up his clothes from the bathroom floor was okay with him, he could do it in a heartbeat, but filming a video for your secret page was something he was not ready for.

“I know it sounds crazy, believe me. I actually thought about this for a few days, but I wouldn’t ask you to do it if I truly didn’t need your help.” You were almost ready to beg him at this point. It has been weeks since the last time you posted a video and the lack of content was starting to upset your followers. There was really no other option. “I swear I’ll try to make it as normal as possible, but I really need you”

She needs me.

Jungkook had to look away from you, the pleading eyes you were sending his way were starting to affect him more than they should have, and while he was usually willing to lend you a helping hand at any moment, this time he really needed some time to think about it.

“I don’t know, Y/n…” He hesitated, taking his glasses off for a brief moment and rubbing his eyes. “I mean, why me? Doesn’t Eunbi usually help you with that stuff?”

“Yeah, she does, but it’s mainly to help me choose an outfit, makeup or the color of the lights. She doesn’t know about cameras like you do. And lately my followers have been complaining about my poor filming skills.” You finally explained your reasons behind it all. “You’re a photography major after all, wouldn’t you know about angles, settings, and all that stuff better than us?”

You took some cautious steps towards your roommate before making him turn around in his chair only for you to sit on his lap. You were aware that it was an unfair strategy to use on him, but desperate times call for desperate measures, don’t they?

A blaring alarm went off inside of Jungkook’s head the moment you became painfully close to him, invading his personal space. Then again, it was not out of the ordinary for you to be touchy-feely with him, but the boy still had a hard time getting used to your overly affectionate demeanor. His hands were eager to lay on the warm skin of your waist and feel your soft flesh against his, nonetheless, he knew better than crossing that line. If Jungkook wanted to maintain his sanity, he needed to remain still for as long as possible.

“Would you be a sweetheart and help me with this, Kookie?

Fuck, not that nickname.

Jungkook melted right on the spot whenever you called him that or any other short variant of his name. He was weak for you and both of you were aware of it.

“I…” It was a hard decision, but how could he say no to you when you were looking at him as if he was your only saviour. “Okay, yes. I’ll help you, but just this time. I will teach you everything you need to know to make your videos better, but next time you’ll be on your own.”

“Oh my god! Thank you, Kook, thank you so much.” Your arms found their way to his neck, engulfing the shy boy into an effusive hug. “I promise I’ll repay you with anything you want.”

“We can figure that out afterwards, don’t worry about it now.” He assured you with a sheepish grin while his hands finally reciprocated the affection by timidly patting your back.

The more you stayed in that position, the more Jungkook wondered if he was really ready to take such a big step into your dynamic, however, there was no way out. You were already counting on him.

What have I gotten myself into?

The following days were spent trying to figure out the logistics and set a schedule that would work for the both of you. Despite what anyone would think, Jungkook was a very busy guy, between his major, work and tutoring lessons he offered three days a week, he had little to no time to hangout with his friends or even watch a movie with you. Therefore, Saturday seemed like the safest option to film the video. Usually Jungkook would play online games with his friends during the weekends as it was the only time he could actually have some free time for himself, but he was willing to sacrifice one day just this time, especially if it was for you.

The boy was in a constant fight or flight mode during those days, overthinking every single minute of his day about how terribly wrong the whole thing could go. He had a plan from A to Z for any unfortunate situation that might occur, only to prevent ruining your friendship any further. Jungkook was so anxious and absorbed in the predicament that he didn’t even notice when Saturday finally arrived.

In a blink of an eye both of you were already making sure that everything was ready to start filming. You would use his professional camera instead of your phone to enhance the quality of the video; he helped you find the perfect spot in your room, void of your personal stuff or anything that could be used to reveal your real identity. He even showed you the angles that you could use to prevent your face from showing but still giving your followers what they wanted. The setting and ambience was perfect, with the perfect amount of lighting and the right color to make the whole moment more enjoyable for your viewers.

“Whenever you’re ready.” His soft voice echoed through the room while you were doing some touch ups to your makeup. Jungkook was doing a good job with keeping a straight face and calm attitude. It was barely impossible to tell how nervous and anxious he was at that precise moment.

“I’m ready.” You stood up from the chair in front of your vanity, and started your way towards the place where you would be filming. It was a corner decorated with a bunch of pillows and a fluffy blanket to make it comfortable for you. “I should take this off now, shouldn’t I?” A nervous giggle escaped your mouth while pointing to your robe.

It would be the first time you would present yourself like this to Jungkook, at least that you were aware of. The boy had already seen more of your body that he would’ve preferred, thanks to his curiosity, however, this time it was different, it wasn’t a simple picture of you in lingerie or with your bare chest showing. It was you in the flesh, quite literally. Naked and ready to put your body under a plethora of sensations he could only think of —he shouldn’t even think about it in all honesty—, along with sounds that up until this moment were only part of his imagination.

“Do-Do you want me to like… turn around?”

It was an innocent and genuine question, yet you couldn’t help but laugh.

“There’s no point. You’ll have to see me to check that the filming is going right, either way.” You waved him off, trying to ease his worries. “It’s okay, don’t read too much into it, you’re only being a good friend and helping me.”

“Sure… a good friend.”

Why does it bother me so much when she calls me that?

Oh, if only he understood.

“Okay, here goes nothing.” In a swift motion you undid the knot of your robe, taking the piece of clothing completely off to show your body covered in the prettiest set of red lingerie that you owned.

Your tits were engulfed by the soft lace of your bra, adorned with a red bow right in the center, drawing more attention to your cleavage. Your panties left little to the imagination; see through lace covering just enough to tease the viewers and make them crave for more of your beautiful body. In hindsight, it wasn’t the sexiest or most elegant set out there, but you liked the way it enhanced your features just the right way to feel comfortable and sexy with your body. And as it turns out, Jungkook thought exactly the same.

The boy could not tear his eyes, covered with his round glasses, away from your figure, taking his time to let the way you presented yourself before him sink in. So bare and vulnerable, yet so sexy and confident. You looked incredibly stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, delectable… words were not enough to describe what he thought of you the moment your robe fell to your feet. However, along with appreciating your body came the realization that helping you film this video would be the hardest task he would ever do.

How can I do this to myself?

“Does it look good?” A very dangerous question, but it was intended to ease the tension already forming in between the two. The longer Jungkook took to answer, the more you wondered if you chose the correct outfit “Should I change?”

“No!” His answer, then, was definitive. “I-I mean, you don’t really need to change, unless you want to. It looks… good, very good on you.” He used one finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

His cheeks turning red was something you could not ignore, it brought a sweet smile to your face.

“Alright then, let’s get this over with!”

A faint fighting came out of your roommate’s mouth while waiting for you to position yourself in front of the camera. The moment you stepped into the comfortable yet sexy set your whole demeanor changed. Your cheerful smile was replaced with a cheeky smirk; your eyes were charged with this sensual energy that made the boy in front of you swallow harshly; your velvety voice was like a siren chant, luring him to step closer and fall into the trap.

Jungkook was mesmerized by the nonchalant way you executed every single movement, as if it was second nature for you, and it sure was. It was part of your routine, part of your lifestyle. The brown-haired man was only now discovering what it was like, but you’ve been under the spotlight for quite some time. Your hands knew perfectly well the path they had to go through to get to the most sensitive parts of your body. Your fingers knew just the right amount of pressure they had to put into your flesh to elicit those sinful sounds. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts, you knew what to do and you loved every single second of it.

Jungkook was entranced by your performance, hands curled into fists to prevent them from acting on their own; cheeks tinted with a rosy color that got lost in the red lights adorning your room. His eyes were glued to your fingers dancing up and down your sides, stealing faint sighs out of you. He had a love-hate reaction to how long you were taking to strip out of your bra. It was sensual, teasing, yet it made the boy fall into a desperate state, eager to see you fully, in all your glory.

“I’ve missed you guys so much.” Your sultry voice sent a shiver down his spine, but the words coming out of your mouth were a cold reminder that he wasn’t there as a viewer but rather as a helper. “It’s been so long since the last time we saw each other.”

A small gasp fell from your lips when you finally pushed down the cups of your bra to display your bare chest. Your hardened nipples were glazed with your saliva after running your wet fingers over them. Little by little you let loose, forgetting that Jungkook was even there, watching you touch yourself and talk to the camera with the most cliche and nasty lines you’ve mastered up until now. Once again, it was part of your routine, and in that routine you needed to have some sort of interaction with your viewers. But truth be told, Jungkook was loving it. He loved how free you looked, and probably felt. He loved how careless you were, how you never hesitated to take a step further and further until you were fully naked, panting and moaning while your fingers graced your inner thighs with a tender touch. He loved it because you were in your element, you were in full control of yourself and body, and that was beyond attractive for him.

“Shit.” A breathy moan elicited from your soft lips when your fingers ran over your folds with a feather-like touch. “I’m so wet.”

Fuck.

Jungkook mentally cursed himself for getting into this situation. It was so hard to watch you in such a lewd way and not be able to get involved. But then again, even thinking of the possibility of being the reason behind your sinful sounds was beyond wrong. You were his friend, his roommate for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be thinking of you in that way.

He shouldn’t think of how beautiful you’d look under him, writhing and chanting his…

“Jungkook.”

Fuck, yes.

“Jungkook!”

If only I could make her sound like that.

“Kook!! I’m talking to you.”

Your urgent tone snapped him out of his dirty thoughts. His eyes connected with yours, with a disoriented expression as he fixed his glasses.

“Shit, sorry, I just… zoned out for a bit.” He tried to excuse himself, but the way his voice cracked in the middle of the sentence prevented it from sounding sincere. “Wh-What were you saying?”

You chuckled, deciding to ignore his reaction and cutting right to the point.

“I can’t get into it.”

“What do you mean?”

His tilted head and innocent, round eyes made your frustration lessen. The whole time you let your hands run free over your skin you were trying —almost begging, to get in the mood to continue with the video, but as it turned out, you were nowhere near turned on. It was disappointing — after putting so much effort into it and gathering the courage to ask Jungkook for help, you couldn’t even get aroused.

What is wrong with me today?

With a deep sigh, you sat right up and covered your naked skin with the fluffy blanket next to you. “What I mean is that I can’t get in the mood to, you know… do it.”

“I’m not following.” Jungkook shook his head slowly, trying to comprehend the message that you were sending him. “Do you need anything? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that. I just can’t get turned on.” Plain and simple. He surely would get what you were trying to say.

“You mean that you’re not–”

“Oh my god, I’m not wet enough to continue filming!”

A pregnant silence fell into the room. Neither of you dared to move or say a single thing after that. Jungkook was rendered speechless after your confession and you could not even look at his face due to the embarrassment you were experiencing right in that moment. Maybe it was too much information, but then again, you were literally naked in front of him, voicing out your frustrations to the only other person in the room wouldn’t be that bad, would it?

Well, apparently it was, especially because it was not just anyone but Jungkook. The boy who not only had to endure seeing you touch yourself but also had to listen to your ridiculous complaints about not being aroused.

“Bu-But you just… you said you were…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence. “Fuck, I feel so lost right now.”

The brown-eyed boy was so confused, if your facial expressions and sounds were anything to go by, Jungkook could swear on his life that you were enjoying it. Your frustrated reaction and straightforward confession threw him off; how come he was fighting his own instincts and urges to not come right on the spot while you were faking it all along? Maybe it was due to being the first time in such an environment with you. Would your viewers know when you’re not being genuine and that’s why you stopped? Or was he really that clueless to women’s pleasure?

“I was acting.” You confessed. “Sometimes I talk like that to help myself and get in the mood, but clearly today is not working for me.” A dejected groan flew out of your mouth.

“Can I, I don’t know, help you with that?” He shyly asked, “Maybe it’s because I’m here. Perhaps having another person in the room is making it difficult for you, I can leave…”

You shook your head, “No, if anything, your presence is helping me to feel somehow relaxed.” You thought about it for a second, trying to come up with a quick solution. “Maybe we can try something else.”

“What would that be?”

It took you a few seconds to voice your idea, mainly out of fear and nervousness due to how much it could damage your friendship. In all honesty, involving Jungkook in the filming was already damaging and risky enough, but it was still within the limits you mentally established for this situation. What you were about to ask him, however, was beyond those limits.

“Could you step closer?” You waited a few seconds before developing your whole idea. “I mean, could you film me from a closer angle?”

“Would that really help?” He asked in a shaky voice.

“We could try and see.”

And see he did. Jungkook moved from his position behind the camera, trying to get his equipment and himself as close to you as possible —losing a little bit of his sanity in the process— with the utmost caution and respect. He didn’t want to overstep the boundaries that were established before starting filming, he also didn’t want to do a wrong movement and throw everything to waste. Jeon had the opportunity to see your body from a closer perspective, and albeit unsure, he managed to keep calm and resume his work.

“Is this okay?” Your roommate asked, angling the camera to focus solely on the space between your legs, right where your fingers wished to disappear in. “Tell me if it becomes too much, okay?”

“Will do.”

After listening to your words of approval and making sure you felt comfortable with the new position, Jungkook continued filming you and every single movement you did. It was hypnotizing how you so confidently went back to your previous endeavors to get you in the mood. Your noises sounded sexier, your breathing was heavier, your eyes were closed tighter than before, willing yourself to enjoy the moment thoroughly and push back the feeling of being so exposed to the only man you swore would never see you like this.

Jungkook tried to stay calm and collected, cool and relaxed, even when he felt the air getting stuck in his throat when he watched your fingers dive into your warm walls through the lenses of the camera.

“Fuck…” He breathed out without realizing. The boy was quick to cover his mouth with his hand when he noticed your quizzical look. “Sorry.” Jungkook mouthed and focused on his work as the cameraman.

You continued with your ministrations, ignoring the heat in your cheeks that wasn’t exactly due to finally getting worked up from your touches. Your fingers moved in and out of your cunt, slowly and carefully, as if you were calculating what you were going to do next. A faint moan fell from your lips, eliciting a raspy groan from the boy in front of you.

Right in that moment you noticed how aggravated Jungkook was. Eyes shining in the dark like a pair of beautiful stars but with a glint of lust covering them along with his glasses; lips parted, letting out his heavy breath and small sighs. His hands were twitching at his sides, eager to move and, most likely, to touch what he was not even allowed to taste.

Maybe this was more than he could handle, maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to help you with this video, perhaps this was already creating a dent in your friendship that you were nowhere close to know how to fix, but the way he was looking at you was nothing you had ever seen before, at least not from him. There was hunger, need and desperation mixed in his hard glare, and as much as you wanted to deny and ignore it, his reaction was doing wonders on you. And so a new idea was installed in your mind. Your friendship was already beyond salvation, how bad would it be to make a last request?

“Kook…” You breathed out, “I need you.”

It was so subtle, so fleeting the smugness that covered his face that you barely noticed. His eyes widened and his lips moved like that of a fish trying to survive out of the water, he didn’t know what to do, much less what to say.

“Me?” He whispered, completely clueless of the effect he was having on you in that moment. You nodded, fingers stilling in between your legs. “Wh-What do you mean?”

You sat up, stopping the filming once again. “Exactly what I said, I need you… I-I need your help with something else. You can say no, but… I would be forever grateful to you if you said yes.”

Jungkook was putting to use his 128 IQ score to try and understand what you were hinting at, but none the wiser, he needed the words spelled out to him to get your idea. And so, as softly as possible, you explained what your need was actually about. You noticed the way his body reacted to you and the show you were putting on for your viewers but more specifically for him; it was painfully obvious how much he desired you, and in all honesty, you weren’t any better.

Ever since you two started living together, you swore that you wouldn’t act on the small and silly crush you developed for him after meeting for the first time. It was just a silly attraction that wasn’t worth the hassle of getting involved with your roommate; his built body and big biceps drove you crazy, and you couldn’t turn a blind eye to the intricate tattoos adorning his arm, which was such a stark contrast to the type of man he made himself out to be; the lip ring shining from his mouth was so painfully enticing, and more often than not, you found yourself wondering what it would feel like against your lips while kissing the life out of him. And God bless the person that gets you started on how much you loved those black rimmed glasses that adorned his eyes almost 24/7, giving him a geeky look that would never fail to make you weak in the knees. But all of those features, as well as the lewd scenarios conquering your mind minutes before going to sleep, had made it difficult for you to stay in your lane all this time. Tonight, however, might be your one and only chance to turn your dirty dreams into reality, only and only if Jungkook agreed to your idea.

“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.” He murmured, looking down at the floor and avoiding your hopeful eyes glaring at him. You reached out for him, your soft hands coming in contact with his covered thighs while you kneeled in front of him. “Y/n… don’t do this to me.” His whole body stiffened, fighting the urge to jump your bones and turn you into a crying mess just like he always imagined.

“You don’t want me like that, Kookie?” You so innocently asked, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones. “Is that the real problem, hm?” Your hands were sliding up and down his thighs, teasing him.

“God, no.” He answered breathlessly, “You have no fucking idea how bad I want you…”

“Then why don’t you show me? What’s stopping you, hm?” Your cheek resting on his jean-covered thigh elicited a soft gasp from your roommate. “It's just a small favor.”

“I… fuck, you’re driving me crazy right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends while letting out a frustrated groan. Jungkook took off his glasses while rubbing his eyes before looking at you again. “You have to promise… you really have to promise that it will be a one-time thing. No more favors after this, at least not of this caliber.”

You nodded eagerly, looking at him with a spark in your eyes. “I promise, just this time.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nodded, “I’ll help you with anything you need.” One of his hands, albeit shakily, reached out to push away a strand of hair falling into your face.

With a wide grin you pull his hand to get him closer to you. It was a bit hard to get his face and the majority of his body out of frame, but both of you managed. Jungkook sat behind you, with his built back leaning on the soft pillows while yours was resting on his firm chest. Both of his strong arms wrapped around your body while his hesitant hands touched your skin lightly.

In all honesty he didn’t know what to do, it felt unreal to be this close to you, especially under those conditions. Jeon was trying so hard to figure out what to do next that the tension conquering his body was noticed by you.

“Relax, Kook, do what you would do with any other girl.” You tried to reassure him while softly stroking his forearm, but the silence in between you two was making you feel uneasy. “You’ve done this before, right?”

Should he answer honestly? The short answer would be yes, he’s done it before; the long one though, would be that he only did it once when he lost his virginity at a random party his friends at the time invited him to. Jungkook couldn’t even remember the name of the girl or how she looked, all he could recall from that time was the awkwardness and how short it lasted. Jeon wasn’t sure that he could live up to your expectations, and while he was not clueless to how it worked, he doubted his performance would be as amazing as that of all your previous sexual partners, which caused part of his nervousness.

He was reading too much into it whereas you were starting to feel desperate and needy. You had the boy of your dreams right behind you with his hands very close to the place that was basically begging to be touched, but not much has happened. It was a bit disappointing how long it was taking him to act, but you also understood that it might not be an easy task to do, especially if it was your roommate doing it.

“Let’s go with an easy start, okay? I’ll lead.” Your hands reached out for his, guiding his right hand towards one of your tits. “You can explore my body as much as you want, don’t be afraid to touch.” And just as if you were reading his mind, you added, “Don’t think too much about it, I won’t be mad if this doesn’t go as planned.”

“Okay.” With a deep sigh he let his fingers feel your skin up, touching, caressing, pinching even.

His slender fingers wrapped around one of your already hardened nipples, toying with it, which elicited a soft gasp from you. His other hand slowly reached for your other tit, trying to stimulate both at the same time.

“Yes… like that, Kook.” Your praising words were helping him to build up his confidence. The more you praised him, the more adventurous he got, letting his hands explore the entirety of your body.

After a few more minutes of playing with your boobs, his hands finally started to drift south, with feather-like touches here and there before reaching your tender thighs. His big hands looked very attractive against your flesh, like the prettiest accessory. The one that was cladded with a bunch of tattoos started to descend more and more, landing small smacks on your inner thigh.

“Oh…” you breathed out, a bit surprised by the sudden move.

“Sorry, should I not have done that?” Jungkook asked, retrieving both of his hands.

“No, no, no!” You pulled them right back where they were placed before. “Please continue… I really liked what you were doing.”

“Okay.”

With a more confident attitude, Jungkook started to touch your thighs, kneading your skin while his hot breath was hitting the back of your neck. In all honesty, it all felt surreal, you never thought that a moment like this would ever happen, that you would have the same boy that you had fantasized about many times before touching you and willing to please you.

“You can use more than your hands, you know?” You whispered softly, closing your eyes due to how good everything was feeling.

“Are you sure?” He murmured really close to your ear, sending shivers through your body. You hummed in response, leaning more and more into his touch. “So, it would be okay if I do this.” His lips graced your neck with a faint kiss, eliciting a small gasp from you. “Or this,” a firmer kiss was placed right under your ear, Jungkook’s lips moving skillfully. “And since I’m at it, you surely wouldn’t mind me doing this,” His teeth sank into your skin suddenly. “Right?”

“Shit…” You moaned out loud, “N-No, I… I don’t mind, at all.”

A husky chuckle erupted from his throat, “Good.” His hands kept moving in between your legs, now finally reaching your needy cunt. “Are you sure you want me to do anything I want to you, Y/n?” You once again hummed, unable to properly answer due to his touches. “I think I might need to hear you say it, before I go any further.”

If he was trying to get your consent or just teasing you, you didn’t know, but you were sure of one thing, you needed to feel any part of him inside of you. Now.

“Fuck, yes, I’m completely sure, don’t make me wait anymore, please.”

It was the please added at the end that really did it for him, the way your needy and desperate voice echoed through the room was enough for Jungkook to give you what you wanted.

He finally pushed one of his fingers inside your velvety walls, slowly sliding in and out with enough easiness that got you wondering just then how wet you were before he started touching you. Your whole body squirmed, reacting at how great it felt to be touched like that. Curses, moans and gasps were falling from your lips, creating the most sensual cacophony.

“You like that?” His husky voice rang through your ears, earning an effusive nod from you, “You like that I’m touching you like this, hm?” You could feel the smug smile against your skin, right under your earlobe, “Maybe I should try harder, since you’re not answering to me.” With no further warning, Jungkook added a second finger, stretching you out deliciously. He picked up his pace as well, pushing in and out with such vigor that got you sinking your nails into your palms.

“Oh my god!” You breathed out.

Where was this sudden change in attitude coming from? Not a minute ago he was acting shy and reserved, as if he had never touched a woman before, as if he didn’t have it in him to wreck you in the way you wanted. But now, that whole act was left behind and there seemed to be no trace of the innocent and nerdy Jungkook you thought you knew, only this suddenly confident and teasing boy, ready to make you fall apart on his fingers.

“That’s not quite the answer I’m looking for.” Jeon goaded you on to the response he wanted from you. “Come on, pretty, tell me how much you like it.”

“Fuck…” You cursed out loud, “I-I can’t.”

It was difficult for you to concentrate on gathering the words that your roommate wished to hear due to his fingers moving deliciously inside of you. He was hitting the right spots with his long and slender digits, over and over again to the point that tears were pooling in the corner of your eyes.

“Hm, and why is that?” Jungkook questioned with feigned innocence in his voice. “Is it really that difficult for you to speak?”

You nodded desperately, looking into his eyes right through those slutty glasses you adored so much. “I can’t… I-I can’t con… centrate.” You finally admitted.

A mocking chuckle flew out of his mouth, his fingers never relenting, “Poor little you.”

“Ah, fuck, Kook.” Your sounds were becoming dirtier, needier, more naughty and desperate as the familiar hot sensation started to invade your body. You knew your release was coming with such rapidness and ease.

It was astonishing how Jungkook could so effortlessly get you to your breaking point, when it took you several minutes to even get aroused. You wanted to believe that it was all due to your previous touching, but deep down you knew that doing it on your own would never get you the pleasure you were experimenting in that moment.

“Shit, you’re squeezing my fingers so much.” He pointed out, struggling to move thanks to the firm grip your walls had on his digits. “So tight and warm.”

If only he knew that his way of talking was only contributing to your forthcoming release. Your eyes could not look away from his face. His hard features and the way his lustful orbs were looking right down at you got you in a trance, one that you didn’t want to get out. The faint smirk on the corner of his lips, along with the lip ring were once again taunting you, tempting you; threatening you with a good time, and just as you were about to reach and find out if your assumptions were correct, Jungkook leaned down and captured your lips in a harsh kiss.

Kissing you for the first time was life-changing, or so he would say, because despite all the girls –only a few actually– he has ever kissed or been intimate with, Jungkook has never felt like this with any of them, so addicted, so eager to taste more of you; craving you in ways that he probably shouldn’t.Your lips were so soft and sweet, and it was right in that moment that he realized that it would be a living hell to go back to normal after getting a taste of you. The way your mouth was chasing after him when he pulled away briefly due to running out of air, it drove him crazy, making him feel light in the head. Being able to see that look in your face as your orgasm was approaching, while your puffy, red lips were begging him to kiss you more was, in fact, something that Jungkook would never forget.

Kissing Jungkook for the first time felt exactly like you imagined, dangerous and messy. It was dangerous because it was right in that moment that you realized that there was no way to go back to your normal routine after this; it wasn’t only because of the intimate act that you both decided to engage in, but because there was no way in hell that you would let him go on with his life without having him like that again. Your previous words became an empty promise the more his lips devoured yours, kissing and biting as if his life depended on it. The coldness of his lip ring was making you shudder and chase for more; you finally got an answer to your question: it felt amazing while kissing. On the other hand, it was messy due to the both of you being so eager to feel more of one another; saliva coating your lips while his tongue finally made an appearance inside your mouth, making you squirm and fight the urge to burst right in that moment.

“I’m so close.” You announced against his lips, panting ridiculously loud.

“You’re gonna come for me, baby?” It was so strange to hear him talk to you like that, using pet names and saying things that Jungkook would never even think of saying in any other situation. “Wanna come on my fingers, hm?”

“Yes, yes, please.” The begging and whiny voice almost made him come in his pants, but Jeon managed to maintain his composure.

“Go on, let go, baby, but keep those pretty eyes on me.” Jungkook’s free hand came up to lay right under your jaw, squeezing lightly but firmly enough to keep you in place. You didn’t have to be told twice, the moment his hand came in contact with your hot skin you felt the waves of your orgasm crash over you. “That’s it… you’re doing so good.”

Fuck, if only he could talk to you like that all the time.

“Oh my god, Jungkook!” You moaned, closing your thighs tightly, capturing his hand in between your legs. “Shit, it feels… so good.”

“I know, doll, I know.”

Not once did your eyes look away from him, not even when the tears started to spill down your face like the most beautiful raindrops, all due to the overwhelming feeling or your orgasm. You couldn’t even grasp the fact that you just came on Jungkook’s fingers, or that your body was shaking uncontrollably while his hand kept moving rather slowly, going from sliding up and down your soaked folds to rubbing your swollen clit. Even in your post-orgasmic state you recognized that one was not enough; as good as his fingers were, you needed more of him. It was more a want than a need, but you couldn’t finish the day without knowing what his cock felt like inside of you.

Craving.

That’s the best way you could describe this feeling; you were craving his body on top of yours, even under, sideways, it didn’t matter, but you had to have more, even if it was just for the night. Even if it would leave a burning memory in your brain to fantasize about in the solitude of your room, when your hands were the only solace for your lewd desires and obscene scenarios playing in your head.

And so, letting the wild side of you speak, you uttered a sentence that was bound to change the whole course of your friendship.

“Jungkook…” You called for him, getting his attention right back on your face rather than in the space in between your legs. After listening to his humming you added “I want you to fuck me.”

His hand came to a halt, fingers not moving an inch, completely frozen in place. His brown eyes were now coated with a glint of fear and uneasiness. Jungkook had been taken by surprise a lot during the day, but right there in that moment, with you eagerly waiting for his response while looking at him with perfect innocent eyes, it had to be the most unexpected thing that could have happened to him.

A deep silence fell in the room once again, with Jungkook quickly retrieving his hands from your body. It took him several minutes to come up with something to say, something that wasn’t pure stuttering and nonsense coming out of his mouth.

“I-I beg your pardon?” His feeble voice rang through your ears due to the proximity, otherwise you wouldn’t have heard him. “I don’t think you understand what you’re asking me.”

You sat up straight, turning in your place to be face to face with Jungkook. “I’m fully aware that what I’m asking of you might be too much, but I honestly can’t ignore how much I want you, Kook.” You leaned forward, straddling his hips and resting both of your hands on his shoulders. “I thought you liked this too.”

It was funny how minutes ago he was completely into you, adamant on making you come and talking with his sultry voice until you fell apart on his fingers and now he was back to his shy and reserved persona; stuttering while trying to gather his thoughts. There were two sides of Jungkook as it seems. One was simply Jungkook, the co-founder of a comic club at your local library; the boy that spent a whole night trying to recover a document you foolishly deleted the night before you had to submit it. Jungkook who always pulled you close whenever you walked near a group of guys whose eyes were glued to your legs, and the one that didn’t hesitate to go and buy you a bunch of snacks as a way of comfort when a date you were so excited to go on went terribly wrong. That was the Jungkook you knew and adored, the one that was ready to do anything for you, being at your beck and call, but that also would get upset if you interrupted him while watching his favorite show.

And then, there was Jeon Jungkook, the boy that rocked your entire world with a few touches. The boy that spoke to you in such a sensual voice with the craziest sentences that you would never imagine him uttering. The Jungkook that called you baby, doll, pretty and kissed you so passionately that you almost forgot your name. The same man that unexpectedly acted with confidence, sure of himself and what he was doing, moving his skillful fingers in and out of your cunt with an ease that left you beyond surprised. There was the side of Jungkook that you didn’t know, and that was exactly why you needed to have more of him.

“It’ll be just this time, remember? Why not go all the way out and have a little fun yourself?” You reiterated your previous promise, even though you knew it was far from being the last time having each other like this. Without thinking too much about it, you started to grind your soaked cunt on top of his crotch; hips moving slowly to rub deliciously on top of him. “So what do you say, hm?”

You could see his self-control starting to crumble the more you rubbed yourself on him. His hardening cock felt wonderful under your hot pussy, along with the rough material of his jeans, because yes, he’s the type of guy to wear jeans while being home, even if he wasn’t expecting anyone to visit him.

You were getting too lost in the sensation, in the way Jungkook was fighting against his own moans escaping his lips or his hips thrusting up into you that you were startled by the weight of his hands on your hips, stilling you in place and preventing you from moving any further.

“I say,” He began with a husky tone, “that you’re making it really difficult to be nice to you.”

Those words caused a shit-eating grin to appear on your face, and with the most seductive voice you could muster you said “I didn’t ask you to be nice to me.” Leaning in closer to his ear you added “I asked you to fuck me… as hard as you possibly can.”

A hiss abandoned his lips while Jungkook’s hands squeezed your hips deliciously tight.

“Is that what you really want, hm? For me to fuck you senseless.” One of his hands weaved through your hair, pulling you away with enough strength to get you to look right into his eyes. “Didn’t think you would be that desperate.” A mocking chuckle echoed through your four walls, bouncing on every corner and back to your warm ears.

“You clearly don’t know everything about me.” You said through gritted teeth, the harsh grip he had on your hair was hurting you in the right way, making you wetter by the second. “Please say yes… I need you so bad, baby.”

It was the first time you called him that, and Jungkook would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy listening to your sweet voice saying it. He retrieved his hand from your hair, changing his direction to rest his thumb right onto your bottom lip.

“I did promise I would help you with anything you needed, didn’t I?” A playful smirk adorned the corner of his mouth.

“That you did,” You pointed out. “And now you have to keep your promise.”

“Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want you thinking I’m not a man of my word.” Jungkook sighed. “But you have to be good, okay? You gotta be good for me.” His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, ever so slightly, making it bounce right into place after playing with it.

An electrifying rush went down your spine by the way his voice tone changed so quickly. Once again, there was no trace of his shy demeanor as it seemed to blend into this smug attitude growing slowly inside of him. A lazy smile took place on his face while his hand continued to caress your tender skin.

“You’re gonna be my good girl, hm? Do exactly as I say?”

A moan flew out of your mouth, not expecting him to say it so confidently. You nodded effusively, though, wanting nothing more than to follow whatever order he had for you.

Hot cute, he thought, admiring the way you were so eager to agree to anything he said.

“I need you to say it, Y/n. Use your words, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be good, I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

“Alright then, let’s see how much you can handle.”

taglist 🏷️: @petalsofink @goldietigers294 @ggukieshoe @jk-190811 @hanamgi @internetbelle @songbyeonkim @berryonasummerevening

if your user is in bold it means i couldn’t tag u !

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fic #nerdy!jungkook #roommate!jungkook #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x reader smut #[closer to you fic!]#cty!jungkook #🥢town originals!#🥢.townsmut!

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 days ago

Text

Title: Good Old Days

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: Women’s College Basketball/Women’s College volleyball (UConn / NC State AU)

Inspired by: “Good Old Days” by Macklemore ft. Kesha

Summary: Childhood best friends turned lovers rediscover love during final seasons.

A/n: this is Paige’s pov…..

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @paige05bby , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @imnotkaizer , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog

I wish somebody would’ve told me, babe.

Told me that the nights spent on rooftops, the laughter echoing from backyards, and those wide-eyed dreams we swore were real—those would be the good old days.

That you would be my good old days.

I met you when we were eight.

You’d just moved into the house down the street, wearing your older brother’s oversized hoodie and scowling like you hated Minnesota’s snow more than anything else.

I threw a snowball at your window. You came outside to yell at me. We’ve been inseparable ever since.

We had our first fight two months later. You didn’t want to share your last Capri Sun. I called you selfish. You cried. I cried harder. We made up two hours later when I offered you my fruit snacks.

Childhood friendship. Pure, unfiltered, untouchable.

It stayed that way until we grew up.

It was the summer before we turned sixteen when it all changed.

Fourth of July. You wore a red tank top, fireworks reflected in your eyes. We laid on a blanket behind your cousin’s truck, half-drunk on soda, half-drunk on feelings we couldn’t name.

You said, “Do you ever think about us? Like… more than best friends?”

I didn’t answer. I kissed you instead.

That was our first kiss.

That was the start of something I didn’t have the words for yet.

“I wish somebody would’ve told me, babe. Someday, these will be the good old days.”

We said I love you the next month.

We said I hate you two weeks later.

Because that’s how we were.

Passionate. Stubborn. Real.

You wanted to go to homecoming. I didn’t have the guts.

I let you go with someone else, even though my heart screamed at me to ask you.

You were furious. “But you didn’t even ask either, did you, Madison?”

When you used my middle name, I knew I’d really hurt you.

You didn’t talk to me for three days. That was a record. I hated every second of it.

We got high together for the first time senior year. An edible at a bonfire. You laughed so hard you snorted water out your nose. I couldn’t stop saying I love you. You kept repeating it back through tears of laughter.

Those were the nights we thought would never end.

Then college came.

UConn for me. NC State for you.

We promised nothing would change.

But it did.

Distance didn’t kill us. Time did. Pressure. Injuries. Growing into different people.

Still, you showed up for me when it mattered. Like that day—August 1st, 2022.

ACL tear. Pickup game. My whole world flipped.

You flew in without saying a word. Showed up at the hospital in your NC State hoodie, hair in a messy bun, eyes red.

“I knew you’d need me,” you whispered. “So I came.”

I’ll never forget that.

“I just wanted my name in a star. Now look at where we at…”

Senior Night. February 16th, 2024.

I stood on the court, mic in hand, heart racing like it was my first game again.

“I know everyone wants me to address the elephant in the room… but umm unfortunately this will not be my last senior night at UConn. Im coming back!” I said, voice breaking as the crowd exploded.

You were in the stands. I saw you. I always found you first. You were crying, grinning, clapping so hard your palms must’ve burned.

That night, we laid in my bed. Not lovers. Not exactly friends. Something softer. Something complicated.

“I feel like this is it,” I murmured into the quiet. “Our year. I think we can bring it home.”

You turned to me, eyes glossy. “I think so too. And even if it isn’t… you’re already enough, Paige.”

No one else could’ve said that and made me believe it.

April 5th, 2024. Final Four. UConn vs. Iowa. 69-71. We lost.

I was in shock. Tears running down my face.

You were the first person I saw when I looked up.

No cameras. No fans. Just you, waiting by the tunnel.

You didn’t say anything. You just hugged me like it was 2015 again and we were back in my backyard crying over a scraped knee.

“I’m proud of you,” you whispered.

And God, I needed that.

Then your shoulder tore. Final season. Senior year. The one you came back for.

You tried to push me away again.

“Go focus on your season, Paige.”

I didn’t leave. I flew out. I brought your favorite smoothie and an ugly teddy bear from the airport gift shop.

You looked at me, broken and raw. “Why are you still here?”

“Because if I had to do it all over again—us, this, the heartbreak, the magic—I would.”

We spent spring in late-night FaceTimes.

Sometimes we talked. Sometimes we just stared at each other, eyes heavy with sleep and old feelings.

Other nights, I’d find myself in Raleigh. Or you in Storrs. Quiet visits. No social media. No explanations.

We sat on my roof one night after a party. Music below. Stars above.

“I wish time would slow down,” I said.

You nodded, head on my shoulder. “I wish we could be 16 again. I wish you’d asked me to homecoming.”

I looked at you. “I wish I had too.”

April 4th, 2025. Final Four. We won.

April 6th. National Championship. Tampa. We did it. Natty secured.

I collapsed in the confetti, tears soaking my jersey.

I searched the crowd again. And there you were. Hands cupped over your mouth, eyes bright with joy.

I pointed. You smiled.

After the game, I found you in the tunnel.

“Come back to Connecticut with me,” I said, breathless. “Come celebrate.”

You hesitated for one second. Then nodded.

April 7th. Welcome Home Rally. Gampel Pavilion.

You were front row. Cheering louder than anyone. I saw you mouthing my speech with me. You’d always known me best.

Later that night, parties in Storrs. I kept looking for you.

When I finally found you on the porch steps, red solo cup in hand, you grinned.

“Remember when we thought this was impossible?” I asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “But then again… we always were kind of unstoppable.”

April 13th. The parade in Hartford. Thousands of fans. Confetti and chants.

You were in the crowd. Again.

Always showing up.

Always my good old days.

April 14th. WNBA Draft.

I wore black. You wore purple. We didn’t sit together. We couldn’t. But the after party we were glued to each other.

I pulled you into my arms and whispered, “Thank you for every version of me you loved.”

You kissed my cheek and said, “I’ll always love every version.”

And now, sitting in this quiet hotel room, draft hat on the table, champagne on the dresser—I think about us.

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout the band… thinkin’ ‘bout the fans… in a small club in Minnesota…”

I was thinkin’ ‘bout you.

How we used to sneak out, lie on the grass, dreamin’, figuring out who we were. The futon nights. The fights. The Fourth of July. The homecoming I ruined. The edible giggles. The hospital rooms. The long drives. The late nights. The confessions. The heartbreak.

All of it.

Those good old days.

And I finally understand what the song meant.

“Maybe these are the moments… maybe I’ve been missin’ what it’s about…”

I smile through the tears.

Because even though we didn’t end up where we thought we would, I had you.

And that was always enough.

I pick up my phone.

Me: You up?

🏐💕: Always for you.

Me: I don’t know what happens next. WNBA, life… all of it. But if I had to go through every moment again—the best, the worst, the magic, the pain—I would. With you.

🏐💕: I’d do it all again too.

You send a picture. It’s us. Fourth of July. Sixteen. Right before our first kiss.

And I know, deep in my bones, in my heart, in the history written in every scar and every smile line…

“I wish somebody would’ve told me, babe…”

These will always be my good old days.

I don’t remember falling asleep, only that your voice was the last thing I heard and your picture was the last thing I saw. Fourth of July. Age sixteen. A still frame of a beginning.

The next morning, sunlight pours through my hotel window like it’s got something to say. My phone buzzes. It’s you.

🏐💕: Wanna get breakfast?

Me: Always.

We meet at a little diner a few blocks from the hotel. It’s nothing fancy—red booths, sticky syrup bottles, that smell of burnt coffee and cinnamon pancakes.

You’re already there when I arrive, hoodie pulled over your head, sunglasses on despite being indoors. You wave me over with a fork in one hand, smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Sleep okay?” you ask.

“I did once you answered.”

You snort, nudging a mug toward me. “I ordered your coffee. Hazelnut. Two sugars. I remembered.”

“You always do.”

We fall into conversation like we never stopped. College talk. Draft nerves. Rookie contracts. Training camps.

Then, it quiets. There’s a lull between bites of waffle and sips of coffee. You glance out the window, chewing your lip the way you always do when you’re nervous.

“Can I ask you something?”

I nod. “Always.”

You meet my eyes. “Do you think… do you think we missed our chance?”

I set my fork down. My chest tightens. “I used to think that.”

“And now?”

“Now I think… maybe we needed the time apart to grow into the kind of people who could try again. And get it right.”

You look down, then back up. “I never stopped loving you.”

I reach across the table, cover your hand with mine.

“I never will.”

It’s not loud. Not dramatic. No background music or movie-score-worthy kiss. Just you and me, in a booth that smells like syrup, holding hands like we’re sixteen again and scared of what love could mean.

Only this time, we’re not scared.

This time, we’re ready.

And maybe we can’t rewrite the past, but we can choose what comes next.

“I wish somebody would’ve told me, babe…”

“…that someday, these would be the good old days.”

And maybe—just maybe—we’re about to start the best ones yet.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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queers-gambit · 6 hours ago

Text

Endure and Survive

prompt: ( x4 ? requested ) you need Joel to survive after enduring the unimaginable.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!wife!reader -> only height mentioned: you're shorter than Joel

fandom masterlist: HBO's The Last of Us

word count: 11.7k+

warnings: obvious spoilers, S2E2 reader insert, Fix It Joel, Joel Miller survives / lives, AU timeline, cursing, mentions blood and injury, guns, dead bodies, parentified!reader, wife!reader, found family obviously - Ellie calls you 'mom'. mentions of explicit material: marijuana / weed, the horses have names idc, established relationship, angst, hurt / comfort, drama, depiction of anxiety and panic attacks, not edited, Lord's name in vain, single Spanish word. imagination, caution, and maturity required. happy but abrupt ending, possible (past) morally grey!reader, petnames.

You woke earlier than your husband as usual, humming in the first streaks of morning light; stretching minimally as to not wake the man beside you, whose bare legs were tangled with yours. However, try as you might, the arm coiled around your waist constricted to a bruising strength; which caused your lips to stretch in a bemused grin.

"Sun ain't up," his gruff, gravely voice grated in your ear.

"Mh," you hummed, "but work still needs done."

"C'mon, baby, can wait another hour."

With a sigh, you laid your arm over his, "You know today's not the day for delay." He huffed, knowing you were right. "You know," you turned over in his embrace to greet the lightly tanned face aged with freckles and faint liver spots, decorated with few scars, "should ask Ellie t'go on patrol with you this mornin'."

"Baby."

"Joel."

"She's... Still a bit pissed."

"Okay, but what teenage daughter isn't?" You snickered.

"She ain't mad at you."

"'Cause I let her fight her own battles."

"Oh, so, now it's my fault for wantin' to protect her?"

"I didn't say that," you sighed with a patient smile. "But Ellie's not that vulnerable, green 14-year-old we met in Boston, baby. And... Look, I'm not saying Seth ain't deserve it, but they were walking away. You and I could've gone a different route, you know?"

"As her parents - "

"It's our right to protect our kid," you insisted. "But consider the circumstances, I think you embarrassed her a little."

"How?" You just offered him a knowing look, making Joel groan, "Fine, all right? Fine, I know, it was public - "

"So very public."

"And she was gonna say her own piece... But if not then, when the fuck am I supposed to step in? What he said was homophobic, doll, if we let him get away with it, would've opened the door for him or anyone else to run their mouth."

"We beat the shit outta him in an alley, of course. Or, you know, maaaybe we go out on patrol together and maaaybe they don't come back?"

"Yeah, yeah," he groaned, "but I ain't think."

"That's one thing I love about you - you act first. It's very noble, like you just have this inherent sense of right and wrong. Never really need time to think."

Joel chuckled, "It's too early for the sweet talk."

"It's never too early - especially when you're protectin' our girl. It's hot..."

"You just said - "

"I never said you were wrong, I'm just trying to take Ellie's perspective into account. Look, she's at that age where life feels invincible, where she's been through more than we can truly fathom - so, she feels twice the age she really is. But she's still young, still a trigger-happy-moron and will never stop needing her parents. She just wants to feel like she's a bit of independence, like we trust her to fight her own battles and handle her own shit. I think we're supposed to just... I don't know, keep watch and jump in if she can't handle it. You know? But we gotta give her the opportunity to do it on her own in the first place."

Joel offered you a side-ways glance, "You been talkin' to Gail?"

"Fuck off," you snickered, trying to sit up but being wrangled back into the sheets. "Joel," you laughed, "we gotta get gone. C'mon, you heard what happened last night - "

"Just ten more minutes, baby, please."

"You really wanna risk Maria siccing Benji on us again? I'm pretty sure we traumatized him last time, Maria said he kept asking if that's where babies come from."

You swore his cheeks bloomed brightly, but it was quickly hidden as his face shoved into your neck with a gruff sort of whimper. "Guess not..."

Taking pity, your hands shot into his salty locks to rake your nails over his scalp soothingly. "Ten minutes, handsome, then I gotta get to the stable."

Ten minutes with Joel turned into 30 easily, but it was worth the reprimand from Maria just to be able to get extra time in his arms and peacefully have coffee together before a long day. She asked you to send Ellie to her before she left on patrol, then requested you go with her - if only for your own peace of mind, knowing she's safe. After the previous night's report of a horde of Infected lying in wait under the snow and about 30 other frozen Infected used as insulation, she felt better sending you with the two young adults.

However, during your morning chores in the stables, you were surprised to see Joel, Dina, and Jesse enter together; asking for their usual mounts as the young man leaned on the stall beside you.

You shot Joel an annoyed look, but he just sighed, "I wanted t'go with her, baby, swear; but Ellie had a long night, you know? Should let her sleep a bit."

"Joel."

"It's all right, Dina said she'd go instead."

Your head shook, "Fine, but we're having family dinner tonight - no exceptions. Y'all gotta talk this shit out, okay? The tension's drivin' me insane."

"Me too," Dina quipped with a small smirk.

"Me three," Jesse chimed in, snickering when you and Joel pinned him with looks; only yours was out of amusement and his, out of annoyance.

"Family dinner, kid," he repeated.

You chuckled with Jesse and Dina, asking the young man, "Whatcha need, bud? You goin' with them, too? We sending trios now?"

"Nah, Maria said I'm going with you and Ellie," Jesse informed, and only Dina clocked the way Joel's shoulders released from the perpetual tension they were haunched in.

"Yeah, all right, cool," you agreed with a small sniffle. "Lemme get these two up and out - I'll get our horses after."

"Baby," Joel stepped up, "let Ellie sleep a bit more."

"We'll have her up for 8 o'clock patrol," you nodded, wrapping your arms around his waist to hang off his form and for hands to squeeze your hips. "Now, what're y'all gonna do?"

"Radio in."

"How often?"

"Every 20 minutes, doll."

"And?"

"Stay safe."

"And?"

"Don't be reckless."

"And?"

"Am I forgettin' one of your rules?"

"Mhm, I literally just said it - "

"Oh! I know, I know!" Dina waved her hand in the air, grinning, "Be home in time for family dinner!"

"That's my smart girl," you praised, making the girl preen with pride.

Joel chuckled, "Yeah, sugar, we'll be back in time. Channel 7 for us, right?"

"Exactly," you breathed, sudden nerves spiking to make your face fall as your eyes swept over his face. "Listen to me, don't play hero, Joel, y'all are just scoutin' the area, all right? You get the fuck outta there if something's up, don't try t'fight."

"I know, honey."

"And bring my Dina home in one piece, please. Preferably, fully thawed and unscathed."

Joel smirked, "Always do. You stay safe, too, baby. Hey - keep an eye on my wife, kid," he directed at Jesse.

"She's the one with a quick drawl, usually saves my ass," he mused.

"Then don't need saving," Joel warned in a growl.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, that's enough," with a chuckle, you patted Joel's waist and released him. In an effort to help you all identify one another when out there, you informed, "Dina, you're on Butterscotch, Joel, I got you on Cooper. Jesse, you're gonna be on Dewey, I'll put Ellie on Bean, and I'm taking Luxor."

Dina smiled as she approached her horse, "Thanks, Y/N. We'll be back soon."

"Yeah, I'll grab Ellie and meet you at the gate," Jesse agreed.

"Oh, uh, Maria wants a word before we go - so, can you make sure Ellie sees her?"

"Yes, ma'am. Where at?"

"Uh, probably the cantina - Tommy's gonna address the people, she'll be there with Benji."

"Right. On it," he offered you his fist to bump before heading out of the stable to do whatever he needed prior to patrol.

"Hey," Joel muttered, earning your attention, "you look worried. You good, baby?"

"Yeah, just... Something in the air, I guess." You glanced at Dina a few stalls up, lowering your voice, "It's remindin' me of KC, you know? Them fuckers lying in wait underground?"

"I know, baby, me too."

"And after Ellie's report, sounds like they're evolvin'. Joel, just... Be careful out there, all right? Don't take any chances, please, and just - look, I know you're not one to run from danger, but things are different now. You don't always gotta be so brave and tough, sometimes it's for the greater good to just run."

"I'll keep Dina safe, we won't take no risks, sweetheart. Promise."

"Good," you sighed. "C'mere, besos, please."

"Lessons with Tommy payin' off, I see," he grinned with pride. "Love hearin' you talk like that, baby, does somethin' t'me."

"I know, that's why I'm learnin'," you whispered, lifting to your toes in order to press a kiss to his lips. "Love you, handsome."

"Hm," he kept you close, stealing another kiss, "love you more, sweetheart. You be careful, too. We got dinner plans."

"Exactly. Now, go on, get gone, the sooner y'all head out, sooner you'll be back, right?"

"In theory."

"Make it in practice," you snipped, smirking into one final kiss. Joel sighed and released you, turning to grab Cooper. You left Luxor on cross ties to walk the pair to the front gate; hand laced tightly with Joel's as the three of you made mindless conversation about whatever you planned for dinner. You gave Dina a leg-up into her saddle, bidding, "Stay safe, kid."

"Always am," she smiled.

"Fuckin' liar, just listen to Joel, please, c'mon," you snorted, making her laugh as you turned for your husband.

"I'll see you soon," he assured, pecking your lips before hauling himself to Cooper's saddle. You frowned and kept pace with his side, calling for the gates to open. "Love you, baby," Joel hushed as he nudged his horse forward.

"Love you," you called, keeping the nerves out of your tone; watching them through the gate as the air turned poignant. You couldn't pin point it, but something felt... Strange. Off. Odd. Unsure and disproportionate. You heard the gate guards announce their departure, watching them for only a few moments before gesturing for the door to close up.

You missed the way Joel turned in the saddle to catch the last fleeting glimpse of you before the wood cut off all sight. Dina smirked, "Dude, you're whipped."

"Got a lady like mine, you would be, too. Now, c'mon."

Ellie pinned you with an unamused glare as she and Jesse approached about an hour later, taking hold of Bean's reins while snipping, "Really? You tell Seth to fucking apologize?"

"What's that?" You blinked.

"You said Maria wanted to talk to me - it was so Seth could apologize or whatever."

"Oh. Hm..."

"You didn't know?"

"Nah, kid, Maria just told me she wanted a word before we left," you informed, letting Jesse take the reins of his horse, Dewey. "I've learned my lesson 'bout askin' stupid questions. Usually, questionin' Maria is stupid."

"Right," she sighed, watching you from her own saddle as you mounted Luxor. The three of you moved together out of Jackson's gates, hearing the guards announce the departure, and venturing into the vast, open nothingness. Ellie eyed the grey skies wearily, asking you, "Are we worrying about that?"

"Nah, should just be up in the mountains," Jesse answered for the both of you - but for an unshakeable reason, you couldn't agree.

"Fucking hope so," Ellie mused. "Ten seconds in, I already can't feel my ass."

"You get some breakfast, babe?" You asked, eyeing Ellie.

"Huh? Oh, uh, no, but I'm all right."

"Fuck that," you sighed, reaching for the saddle bag. "Here, I got, uh... It ain't much, but eggs are good protein."

"Oh..." Ellie accepted the two hard boiled eggs you produced; unwrapping the cling wrap to hand back. Supplies were few and far between, everyone saving whatever material they could for repeat use after cleaning it. "Thanks, Y/N." You nodded, nudging Luxor into a trot. "Hey, uh... You let Joel and Dina go alone?"

"'Let'?" You snorted, "C'mon, honey, you know either of them to do anything I say?"

"Joel, yes... Dina... Not so much."

You and Jesse chuckled, turning off towards Cottonwood as a harsh, bitter wind swept over the three of you. It felt like the hand of Death; doing what you could to ignore your anxiety.

Amy's radio transmission barely reached you as the blizzard had rolled over the town you trotted through. She called for all patrols to return to Jackson, but the wind, snow, and frigid temperatures prevented your escape; already a couple hours from home base. Naturally, you were the decision maker and informed Amy you'd shelter in place until the worst of the storm had passed, leading Jesse and Ellie towards one of the cleared-out garages you knew of in the ghost town.

The horses were left with a supply of hay, knowing they needed rest and fed before attempting to brave the weather back to Jackson. You were familiar with this particular area after clearing and securing it just that past fall with Jesse, the two youngsters following you at a jog for the usual convenience store patrol members had commandeered. You yanked the door open, met with the sweeping smell of stale weed and seeping snow; panting as you slammed the door and dropped your pack almost instantly.

"You good? You all right?" You checked the kids, watching Jesse nod as Ellie was stalking around the rows of growing marijuana plants.

"Am I fucking hallucinating?" She asked gleefully.

"Maybe. Do you see a 7-Eleven full of weed?" Jesse mused, trailing after you towards the radio.

"Yep."

"Then no," he sighed, kneeling before the wood stove. "Hey, Y/N?"

"Yeah, honey?" You asked, turning the radio dial with a single headphone pressed to your ear.

"Whatchu want me to do 'bout this?"

Glancing over, you tried to wrack your memory, "Nothin' viable in there?"

"Some but not much."

"Try to light what you can," you nodded. "There's spare wood in the back. With luck, it's still dry."

"All right, yeah," he panted, the cold blistering as it seeped into all bones and cracked drying skin.

"How'd you know about this place?" Ellie wondered, still admiring the stoner's paradise.

"Eugene," Jesse answered with an undertone of remorse. Ellie's face fell, recognizing the name from the many times Dina had mentioned the old man. "He was my first patrol partner. One day, he showed it to me, said he found it a year earlier when he was on a solo patrol. Swore me to secrecy. Said Maria wouldn't be supportive of his, uh, farming."

"What about you, Y/N?"

You just shrugged, "I know everything, kid. Was a young thing in the '90s, I know what's up."

Jesse snickered as Ellie went quiet; making the lad look up in curiosity only to spy her at a spare table, examining an old medallion similar to a dogtag. He asked, "You okay?"

She paused, then breathing, "Yeah."

"Y/N, you got a lighter?"

"Uh, should be one or eight around here, kid," you answered, still receiving only static over the radio.

"Right," he sniffled, rummaging around to locate one with enough lighter fluid.

He got the fire going at last as Ellie questioned, "Eugene was a Firefly?"

"Yup. Just early on, though."

"Served with Tommy," you piped up, sparing a small glance and a smirk over your shoulder before refocusing.

"He quit back in 2010," Jesse continued.

"How come?"

"He said he was tired of killing people. I think he was in Vietnam."

"Oh."

Jesse grabbed a spare blanket, handing it to Ellie and nodding at you while taking a seat before the stove. She stood from where she'd sat on the side of a cot, unwrapping the wool to drape around your shoulders for you. "Thanks, baby girl," you muttered, barely aware of the added warmth.

"Come sit by the fire," she mumbled, squeezing your shoulders before returning to her seat.

It was quiet, the two sat in contemplation. Jesse spoke with bitterness over the haunting memory, "That was a raw deal. Joel having to put Eugene down..."

"Hey," you snapped, looking at him with a fierce side-eye. "Know y'all were friends, but Joel ain't do nothin' but deliver mercy. Eugene had a fuckin' stroke, wasn't easy for anyone involved."

Jesse nodded in agreement, "Just a fuckin' shame. Guy makes it through a war, end up goin' out like that." He sighed, "What are you gonna do? Like Y/N said, couldn't be saved."

"Yeah," Ellie breathed. "Hey, Y/N? ... Y/N? ... Y/N!"

"I got it, I got it!" You cried, radio clearing for a moment. You grabbed the CB, "Joel? Joel? Come in, Joel!" You waited a moment, sliding the headphones over your ears, readjusting on your knees and trying to dial the signal into anything stronger. "Joel, come in! C'mon, baby, answer the fucking radio!" But you only earned more static. "God fuckin' damnit! Told him to check in with me on channel 7 - right, Jesse?"

"Yeah, right, every 20 minutes, ma'am," he shared a nervous look with Ellie. "Look, I'm sure they're doin' the same - sheltering in place - "

"Joel!" You tried again, growling in frustration, "This fucking storm, man, I can't get through - it's all fucking static. Joel! C'mon, come in! Joel, Dina? Hey! Someone fucking answer me! Please!" But there was no answer. "Fuck!" Your fist banged on the bulky machine.

"Try Jackson, we might be in range," advised Ellie, the cold seeping into her lungs to make her voice quake.

You sighed, changing the channel and trying again, "Jackson, come in, Jackson. This is Cottonwood, come in... Tommy? Hey, come in, Jackson! This is Cottonwood... Amy! Amy, can you hear me? Over."

"Think we're gonna be here a while," Ellie mused to Jesse.

"Yeah. Hey, Y/N. C'mon, come get warm - leave the channel open, they'll radio in when they can."

But you were switching back to channel 7, "Joel? Hey, come in Copper Mine, this is Cottonwood. Someone fucking answer me! Joel! Dina! Come in! C'mon, I need to know y'all are okay! Come in, Copper Mine! This is Cottonwood..." But the static mocked you. "Joel, it's Y/N, please, fucking answer! Come in! Joel, please! Over..." You switched back to Jackson's channel, "Jackson, this is Cottonwood. Please, someone, come in! I-I can't get ahold of Copper Mine, please, come in... Amy, Tommy, I can't get ahold of Joel, come in! This is Cottonwood, we're sheltering in place - please, answer! Over..." This continued for another hour before you were gritting your teeth and leaving the channel open, still dialing, calling over the waves every so often - hoping someone, even another patrol group, would check in. But the wind and snow fucked everyone's radio transmission.

Ellie leaned over to Jesse, muttering, "Should we pack her a bowl? Sounds like she needs it."

Jesse snickered and nudged her shoulder, Ellie grinning as she stood to begin snooping; leaving the lad to stretch out on the cot. He watched you for a little bit before slowly shutting his eyes as the wood stove soon warmed them.

"Jesse," a muffled voice leered.

"What?"

"Check it," Ellie encouraged. When you looked up from your place by the stove, finally taking refuge by the heat, you discovered Ellie wearing a refurbished gas mask with a bong attached to the mouth piece.

You couldn't help the bark of laughter, shaking your head as Jesse scoffed and looked away from the sight.

Ellie giggled, yanking the mask off, "Did he make this?"

"Yeah."

"I'm taking this with me."

"Uh, no, ma'am, you're not," your smile dropped.

"Oh, c'mon," Ellie whined.

"Listen to your mom, kid," Jesse leered in a bored tone. "You're not taking that."

Instead of correcting him that you weren't her mother (by birth), she just sighed, "Yes, I am. And as much weed as I can shove into my pack."

"Ellie," you scolded.

"You said yourself, you did this shit in the '90s."

Your eyes rolled, "It was a different time."

"I'm still taking it, if the apocalypse isn't the time to get high, I don't know when is."

"Nope," Jesse now chimed, "leave it, Ellie."

"Dude, you're gonna be in charge of Jackson one day, we all know - but that day has not yet come."

"Y/N has superiority, she said - "

But Jesse cut himself off when the radio finally fucking came to life, the static clear - but Amy's voice cutting in and out as she tried to reach your party. He watched as you scrambled to your feet, leaving the wool blanket in place on the floor, and rushed to drop before the machine; knees nearly cracking from the impact.

"Repeat, Jackson?" You called over the CB; trying to carefully enhance the signal.

"Copper Mine, do you copy?"

"Hey! Hey! This is Y/N, you're barely there... Amy? Do you copy? This is Cottonwood. Over."

You waited only a moment, finding a sweet spot to hear the distorted reply, "Y/N, have - Joel or Dina?"

"Repeat? Jackson, come in, you're breaking up! Repeat last message!" You turned the dial with tears slowly gathering out of pure nerves and anxiety.

"Have - heard - Joel or Dina?"

You pieced the message together, nervously replying as Ellie slowly approached your shoulder, "No, why?"

"They haven't checked in," Amy answered. "Are - you - Copper Mine?"

"Fuck," Ellie hissed over your shoulder.

"Amy, repeat?" You pleaded. "Amy!" But the static was back. "Amy, come back!" You released the transmission to growl, "Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck!" Trying again, you begged, "Amy!"

But there was no answer, making you climb to your feet. "Woah, hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait!" Jesse yelped as you snatched your pack from the ground and rushed around the hideout. Ellie was on your tail.

"We're not far from Copper Mine, let's fucking go! We can't leave them out there like this! C'mon!" You barked, hearing him sigh and follow swiftly without protest. Ellie and Jesse followed you out the door, sprinting towards the garage and yanking the nearly iced-closed door up.

"Y/N, hang on a second - "

You snarled, "Fuck that! My husband's out there, Jesse, I'm goin' after them! We don't know how far they got, but they're not back home and they're not radioing in!"

"I know," he agreed as you and Ellie reached for your horses. "Look, the route's an oval around the mine. We gotta split up and come at it from both sides. Northwest and northeast. You two go together, we meet up in the middle."

"We'll take northeast," Ellie agreed, trio leading the horses towards the open door. "How much time do you think we have?"

"Go, c'mon," you directed them, Luxor trained enough to stand as you gave Ellie a leg-up. Jesse was mounting on his own as you answered her question, "If the wind holds steady, maybe 20 minutes."

"You gotta get to the mine by then," Jesse picked up, his authority ringing clear, "Ellie, Y/N, whether you find them or not."

"Yeah, you fucking too, Jesse," Ellie snarled, spurring her horse into the blizzard.

"Go! And be careful!" You demanded, smacking Dewey on the flank to send him and Jesse into the storm. You paused only to pull the garage door back down, Luxor already walking forward; making you jog to keep pace and hop to catch the stirrup. He was breaking into a canter by the time you were seated, spurring the ebony mount after Ellie and Bean as Jesse was cutting to the side.

"Y/N!" Ellie hollered over the wind.

"I'm right here, baby!" You cried, eyes squinted in the stinging, whipping, frigid air. "Don't stop, don't stop, I'm here, just go! C'mon! Stay with me, Ellie! C'mon, cut this way!" You directed Luxor, hearing Bean change direction after you. "We don't stop!" After several minutes, you checked, "Baby girl? You still with me?"

"I'm here!" She called from behind you.

"Keep going!"

"Y/N! The fucking snow - it's too thick! I can't see shit!"

"Don't fucking stop, we'll make it! Just stay with me, baby, c'mon, let's go! We're all right, we gotta make it!" By a stroke of pure luck, you heard a chatter over your radio. "HOLD!" You cried to Ellie, Luxor whinnying in protest as you skidded to a slippery halt; wrangling your hand radio from your belt. In time, you heard Joel, "Y/N? Y/N, come in! C'mon, baby, fucking answer me!"

"Joel!?"

"Y/N!"

"Joel, Joel, I-I copy! I copy!"

"Good t'hear your voice, baby."

"Where the fuck are you!?" You cried, Ellie looking relieved for a split moment before light static was heard instead of his deep, Southern accent. Yet... Something told you this wasn't just silence, but something else. Something worrisome. "Joel? Joel! No, no, no, come back! Joel! Answer me! JOEL!"

"The storm!" Ellie reminded.

"It's not the fucking storm," you panted, confusion marring your usually pleasant expression. You tried again, "Joel, come in! Do you copy!? Joel, please! Baby, fucking ANSWER me!"

Unknown to you, Joel heard your desperate pleas but couldn't answer as Abby and her mini militia had taken a frostbitten Dina hostage; gun to her temple, semi-automatic pointed at him in threat.

"Joel, where are you? Where are you, Joel, fucking come in!" You begged, shaking your head at Ellie as the silence was deafening; own automatic rifle suddenly burning into where it was slung over your shoulder. "Fuck! We keep moving - "

"Where?"

"North, c'mon, there's better signal outta the fucking trees. Let's go, baby, keep up!"

"Go! I'm right behind you!"

As a last ditch effort, you held the reins in one hand as the other radioed, "Joel, where the fuck are you!? Please!" You prayed the further north you got, the better signal. "Come in! Baby, please, please, we're fucking worried! Come in, please! JOEL! For fuck's sake!" No response, but you found something in the snow... Tracks. "Ellie! Ellie, follow the tracks - don't lose 'em! They're still fresh!"

You galloped forward, still trying in vain to reach Joel; who was wailing in pain as Abby bludgeoned his blown-out knee to the sounds of your frantic cries of his name. It was almost as if you could sense what was happening, wanting to be there with him in his end Abby promised to bring.

"Y/N, LOOK!" Ellie called, pulling her horse to a rearing-halt, eyes in the distance from mid-hill you climbed. "FUCKING STOP AND LOOK!"

"Ellie, we don't got time! The snow's gonna cover - "

"LOOK!"

You yanked Luxor to another halt, whipping him around towards Ellie - but seeing where she pointed. Through the valley, you could make out the sight of Jackson from miles away, mouth agape to gasp, "Oh, my fucking God."

"What the hell is that?"

You blinked back tears, "J-Jackson. Fuck, the Infected, they must've found 'em."

"Wh-What do we do? What the hell do we do, Y/N?" You had to think fast, fear seizing hold of your heart. "Do we go back? Or move on?"

You sniffled, "Tommy's got Jackson - that's the fire, see? We... We move on! We find Joel and Dina, these have gotta be their tracks, baby, we're so close now. We can't stop."

"Y/N..."

"You go back if you want! Back to the fucking 7-Eleven, but I'm not leaving without Joel! Are you with me?"

"What if they're not alone?"

"Then I fucking pray for those stupid fucking souls," you snarled, both hoods drawn in the thick, blinding flurries. "Now are you with me, baby girl?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fucking with you. Let's go."

You spurred Luxor around and followed the fading-fast tracks left in the blanket of crunchy snow. After several yards, you called, "C'mon, keep pace with me, Ellie - don't tire them out too bad, we gotta make the trip home!"

"I'm right here!"

Up the hill, you let Luxor and Bean canter at their set, desired pace; taking your own advice not to tire them too greatly. As you got up to a semi-even outcrop, you saw something over the treetops. "Ellie? Ellie, you see that?"

"What the fuck? What's up here?"

"Lodges? Ski resorts?" You guessed, encouraging Luxor faster.

"Y/N, there! There, look!" Ellie gasped, horses snorting with exertion when you halted once more. "Is that...?"

"Cooper and Butterscotch," you breathed. "Joel and Dina must've taken shelter - c'mon!"

"Why're they here? Copper Mine's back down - "

"I don't fucking care why, Ellie, they're here!" Realizing your tone and how it made the nervous girl frown, you apologized, "I-I'm sorry, baby girl, I'm just - I don't know what's going on. Okay? Something ain't right. Now, c'mon, please, Ellie, c'mon." You eyed the building, an old ski lodge some richie-rich must've owned before the Outbreak. "Hey, hey," you hushed, coming to another halt behind the tethered horses, hand held up with warning, "you see anythin'? Any movement?"

"No?"

"The windows, Ellie. C'mon, honey, use them young eyes for me."

She squinted in the sideways snow, but the reflective windows didn't show anything inside, no movement; making her head shake. "N-Nothing, I don't see anything."

"That's not exactly a good thing," you noted. "Dismount, we go on foot."

"What's the plan, Y/N?"

Your boots crunched into the snow, quickly binding Luxor's reins to the broken-down privacy fence surrounding the lodge's perimeter. Your breath came out in a puff of air, telling her as she followed your actions, "We go in smart. Check the first floor, we move up," you unlatched your rifle from the saddle. "We don't know what the fuck's inside. Don't shoot any movement on sight, we don't know where Joel and Dina are."

"Should you try the radio again?"

You gazed up at the windows, something sickly bubbling in your gut, "No... No, we go in - what if... What if?"

"There's Infected? Joel's got it - "

"C'mon," you worried, nodding at her after you, "I'm not willing to fucking wait."

"Right," she hurried after you.

"Quiet, quiet, quiet, shhh-hh-hhhh" you hushed, racking your rifle in favor of your handgun; reaching for the still in-tact door. It opened easily as if recently accessed, Ellie stepping silently inside after you and catching the door before it slammed shut. You nodded in praise, side-stepping over yourself as the ground floor appeared as just abandoned construction.

Ellie grabbed your sleeve, your worried eyes turning to her, but she silently pointed up towards the ceiling. You tuned in, hearing muffled thumping and feeling all air deflate from your pinched lungs. Worried that it wasn't the usual erratic sound of a feasting Infected, thinking it sounded too timed and planned, you looked back to Ellie - intent to whisper a plan - but she was surging ahead of you.

"Ellie! Stay together! Ellie! Don't!" You hissed, huffing as she disappeared around a corner as the sounds of distant screaming seeped from the floor above you. "Fuck's sake. I'm gettin' too old for this fuckin' shit." You peaked around the immediate corners, not finding any signs of life - but flinching when a gunshot echoed in the space around you. Taking cover, you realized the sounds were coming from up the stairs, gasping in worry for your adopted daughter, "Ellie!" To yourself, you hissed, "Fuckin' told you to stay together, fuck!"

The sounds of a squabble grew louder, Ellie's snarls ringing clear as you swiped the safety off. You followed her wet footprints, discovering an open door leading into the lodge's expansive living room - or perhaps, just one of them. You ducked when movement rushed in a flurry, catching sight of Ellie being wrangled to the ground; a stranger kneeling on her back. However, the worst sight was just beyond; before the vast windows showcasing Jackson's demise, one of the unknown forms moved aside to reveal your husband limp on the ground... Bloodied face seemingly staring out at you. His finger twitched, breathing staggered - and when his lips tugged, knew he saw you. Knew you'd always come for him. Even in a fucking blizzard, even when so worryingly outnumbered... But Joel wouldn't bet against you, no matter the circumstance.

He was overturned on his chest, blood pooling under him, immobile from his shattered leg, and there were at least four - no, no, five, you counted five - bodies inside. You barely remembered protocol, feeling something white-hot and feral burst in your chest upon hearing Ellie struggling and crying. Eyes cast back over Joel and you lifted your gun...

"JOEL!" Ellie screamed from the floor, whose fingers twitched with minimal recognition. "Joel! Joel! Joel, get up! Joel, FUCKING GET UP!"

However, one man roared at her, "Stupid fucking bitch!"

"No! No!" Two men struggled inside, distracting the others.

"Fuck you!" The man with a thin upper lip mustache shoved his companion aside. "The bitch fucking cut me!" You smirked in fleeting pride, amusement dropping when he stomped up to Ellie and swiftly kicked her in the ribs; causing her to choke on the air stolen from her lungs. You flinched at the sound of her cracking rib; Joel's eyes locked on you. The stranger lifted his foot again as if to stomp on her, but his friend - with sandy locks - intercepted him and shoved him back several feet. "I'll fucking kill her!"

"She ain't who we want!"

They all - minus Joel - missed the way you silently stepped in. A hunter, a solider, a mother and wife dead set on protecting her loved ones. You aimed at the most obvious threat after a handgun flashed in one of the men's hands as if to aim at Ellie.

You were well-aware of the dire situation but took a steadying breath and squeezed the trigger, bullet piercing directly through the back of the dark sandy-blonde head; sending a splatter of blood over the ebony haired man's face. "One," you counted.

There was no time as the man looked up at your voice; barrel aimed at him, trigger sounding in a boom. "Two," you counted.

From the shock of your appearance, Ellie managed to wriggle away from woman pinning her to the ground as your sight turned to the other two women across the room. When one lifted from her seat near the fireplace, eyes wide and a plead on her lips, your gun popped off another bullet despite her hands held in defense; catching her in the chest, sending the young girl to her back, choking on her own blood. "Three," you counted.

"MOM!" Ellie screamed, her having been disarmed as the girl with a bald head proved equal strength. Plus, with her ribs, Ellie wasn't much of a fight anyways.

You didn't need to think, gun turning towards her. "Get the fuck off my daughter, bitch," you snarled, the girl with a septum ring's eyes widening at the sight of your angry threat. Another bullet fired, piercing directly between her eyes. "Four," you counted, turning to the last assailant. She was on her feet, handgun pointed at you; but her hands trembled as Ellie scrambled for her gun then found her feet. You sidestepped in front of her, "No, no, all eyes on me. Joel? Joel? Hey, you alive? C'mon! Fuckin' show us you're alive! JOEL! If you're dead, I swear to God - "

He whimpered; relief flooding your system.

"Who the fuck are you?" The girl in a long-sleeve, grey Henley demanded; trying to step around Joel's legs to get a clear shot of Ellie - but you moved with her.

"Aht, aht! Stay right there, don't move." She narrowed her eyes as you asked, "Ellie? With me, baby girl?"

"I'm - I'm here," she wheezed, laying a single hand to your waist.

"You hurt?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Hm," you growled, fingering the trigger.

"I asked, who the fuck are you!?" Abby roared, her desperation making her raw and unpredictable. You didn't want to rock this boat too much, not when the threat to your family was alive and real.

"Lookit, darlin', I don't think you're in the position to ask any questions," you warned. "Now... Step away from him. Nice and slow, please. I'm askin' you nicely - "

"No!" She snarled, gun turning to the back of Joel's head; heart leaping to your throat. "You take one step, either of you make a fucking move, and I'll blow his fucking brains out."

"And I'll blow yours," you warned evenly.

"Doesn't matter," she seethed, "'cause I would've done what I came here to do."

"Oh, yeah? What's that? Kill an old man?"

She chuckled ruefully, "Exactly that."

"You wanna tell me why? C'mon, now. I don't wanna have to shoot you, kid, got a real long life ahead of you." When her hands shook with more definition, you snapped, "Hey! Hey! Eyes on me! Back the fuck away from him right now and maybe I'll let you live."

The room's occupants knew it was a boldfaced lie.

Abby panted, quickly glancing around the dead bodies that fell by your hand; giving you a single moment to note the shattered golf club left to the side of Joel, then to the state of him. It didn't take a rocket scientist to piece together what she'd done. "Y-You killed them," she whispered, glare turned back to you; tears in her eyes, upper lip snarled. "You killed them! Mel wasn't armed and you fucking shot her, you bitch!"

"Bet your ass, I did. Didn't even hesitate, now, did I? Y'all were hurtin' my husband."

"'Husband'?" She repeated, scoffing. "Of fucking course. You're who was on the radio, weren't you?"

"That's right. Now... I'll tell you only one more time. Back. The fuck. Away from him. Now, please, I ain't known for my patience!"

"Just fucking shoot her, Y/N!"

"No, Ellie," you growled, aim narrowing. She sobbed behind you, protected by your body; only able to look between the stranger and her adopted father.

"She did that to Joel! FUCKING LOOK AT HIM!"

"I know, I got eyes t'see, honey, but she's just a kid - like you, Ellie," you didn't shift your gaze from the bitch with a braid; knowing no matter what, she was going to die today. By your hand or Ellie's, you didn't know - nor care. You continued, "Tell me why, darlin'. Why're you doin' this? Huh? The fuck could he've done? Hey? C'mon, now! Answer me!"

"It doesn't fucking matter why, Y/N!"

But you were trying to play for time, well aware of the gun pointed at Joel that would only take a fraction of a second to fire, not a whole lot of pressure needed to trigger the bullet. There was a good chance that if you opened fire, she could easily take Joel out; the exact opposite of what you were trying to accomplish. You needed a fleeting opening, anything; just a single moment - a nanosecond - to make your move without jeopardizing Joel's life. Or Ellie's. Or yours, for that matter.

"It matters, Ellie!" You barked. "She's got a reason, I wanna hear it. C'mon, darlin', tell me why! Why're you doin' this?"

"He's a fucking monster," she trembled.

"All right, good, that's a start. What'd he do? Huh?"

"Does it matter?! You're both coldblooded murderers, you don't need any reason!"

"You got a point, yeah. But you obviously got your own. Tell me what that is."

Abby took an unsteady breath in, shaking her head as tears leaked in pathetic trails down her ruddy cheeks. "He killed him..."

"Who?"

"My father - he killed my father and 18 soldiers!"

You breathed, "Oh, yeah? When?"

"Five years ago," she grit her teeth. "In Salt Lake!"

"The hospital?"

She seethed, "He was an unarmed doctor! Shot dead like a fucking animal!"

Her gun straightened at Joel, making you chant, "Hey, hey, hey, yeah, yeah, I remember that, I remember. But you're negating from the fact that they had our daughter." Abby's eyes shifted over to Ellie behind your shoulder. "Hey, eyes on me! Look, I fucking promise you, kid, it wasn't in cold blood - we had real good reason. You with them? You a Firefly?"

"They're all gone, you dumb bitch! Didn't you hear?"

"You all that's left?"

"No," she seethed, "there's more of us... Many more in Seattle, but your little family won't get a chance to see them."

"Sound real certain of that."

Joel groaned from the bloody floor as if trying to call for you. Abby snarled, "I'm the one with a gun to your husband, remember? You fucking blind!?"

"Oh, I'm aware, darlin'. But I don't think you're gonna kill him."

"Why the fuck not? You just killed my friends!"

"'Cause he ain't who you want."

"Oh, yeah?" She scoffed.

"We left them nurses alive, I bet they're who told you 'bout us. Right? Am I right?" Abby's jaw steeled, only inclining her head in confirmation. "Yeah, that's right. You came all the way here from Seattle on a mission to kill him. But here's the thing, darlin', Joel ain't kill your daddy."

"I know he did!"

"He didn't pull the trigger! Your witnesses got it wrong, but that's okay - happens during fits of panic. They don't see the whole picture."

"He shot my father in the head! Like he was nothing! Stepped over him like he wasn't even there and walked out the fucking door! Why shouldn't I do the same!?"

"No, darlin'," you smirked, seeing the rage building in her eyes. Good. It's what you wanted - needed. "No, see, Joel didn't fire the kill shot. I did."

"You?"

"Me," you agreed, chuckling - hoping to blind her with anger from your amusement. "Yeah, I shot your daddy - and just like your li'l friends, I ain't hesitate then, neither. What? You look shocked... You surprised I had the gull to do it? I'll tell you somethin' else, darlin', I didn't even look at him - " Abby cracked with a sob and it was the opening you needed. "C'mon, darlin', take your best shot. Or would you prefer I just shoot you now? Can reunite you with dearest daddy real easy."

The girl laughed, arm shifting a fraction as if debating turning her gun on you, "Like you could make the fucking shot, you old hag - "

Your gun recoiled slightly from being fired, striking Abby in the head; and you counted, "Five." Quickly, you shoved the weapon into the holster on your hip, sprinting across the room to where Joel was somehow still breathing. "Hey, hey, hey, baby, hey," you slid on your knees, Ellie charging in a limp after you, "you still with us? Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. C'mon, Joel! Gotta hang on for me, all right? I-I know you endured so much, baby, but hang on a little longer. Please!"

He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, making you heave a whimper. "Joel? Joel," Ellie sniffled from her knees at your side, "hey, y-you gotta get up. C'mon, get up - "

"No, no, not yet," you prevented, nodding to the shattered golf club. "Took a fuckin' beatin', Ellie, probably has internal bleedin'. We move him, might make it worse."

"Well, what the fuck do we do, Y/N!?"

"We do nothing - you probably got broken ribs, baby. Fuck," you breathed, looking around the room - something catching your attention. "All right, all right - shit, hang on, stay with him."

"Y/N?" Ellie worried as you found your feet; but her eyes drifted to the movement on the floor. The unarmed girl, Mel, was trying to army crawl through her own blood, sobbing when you stood over her.

"Hey!" You barked, flipping her onto her back, demanding, "Y'all brought med supplies? Right? RIGHT!?"

"Fuck you," she spat.

"You tell me true, doll, I'll help yah."

"Y-You - bitch."

"All right, I'll find it myself," you scoffed, gun back in hand, aiming at her forehead, and firing once. "What were you? Four? No, no, three."

"Y/N!" Ellie sobbed, "He's got a fever!"

"Hang on, Ellie, I got it," you rushed, kneeling at one of the packs - noting the embroidered wolf. There was no questioning it, overturning the pack and rummaging through the contents. Not finding what you needed, you did the same to a second pack; then a third, gasping when it was full of medical supplies. You shifted through it before noting another body in the room right next door. "Shit - Ellie!?"

"What?" She sobbed over Joel.

"Got another body!" It was quiet as you stood with your gun in hand again, aimed at the body before dropping it. "Oh, fuck! It's Dina!"

"WHAT?"

You knelt at her side, checking her pulse and sighing with relief. "S-She's alive! Just knocked out. I got her!" Holstering your gun once more, you grunted and took hold of her wrists to tug the girl into the main room. "All right, honey, just - fuck, stay there, be back for yah." You returned to the medical supplies, tears leaking without consent. "Ellie, here - catch!" Using the hardwood floor to your advantage, you slid supplies her way; not bothering to check if she caught them all or not.

"What do I do?" Ellie whimpered.

"Get over here and check Dina, I got Joel," you scampered across the floor; pair of you switching places. "Hey, hey, do me a favor - get on the radio, get ahold of fucking anyone. You hear me? Use channel 7 to try to get Jesse..." You prayed the lad was smart enough to tune in on the private channel you and Joel used after separating. "All right, all right," you sniffled, caressing your husband's bloody cheek, "baby, hey, hey, can you hear me? Just - Just squeeze my hand, honey, c'mon." When his broken hand squeezed yours, making you sigh, "All right, good, hey, you're - you're gonna be all right. I gotcha, baby, just, um, just hang on for me. Okay? Can you do that?" He squeezed again. "Good boy."

Perhaps his lips twitched in amusement, perhaps not. You didn't notice either way, sorting the supplies - discovering a half-used vial of milky white substance.

"Fucking Propofol? The fuck they doin' with this?" You muttered to yourself, finding a clean needle and drawing it into the syringe.

"What're you doing?" Ellie sobbed, "Y/N? What is that?"

"Tryna save him, Ellie! Radio in! C'mon, baby, I know you're scared - I know that was fucking scary. But I need you to be brave for me right now, Ellie, please. Okay? I need fucking help! Get on the airwaves, all right? Radio anybody!"

"Right, okay, yeah," she sniffled, doing as you told from Dina's side. "Jackson? Jackson, come in!" But there was no answer. So, she switched channels, "Jesse!? Jesse, please, it's Ellie - "

"Ellie? Ellie!"

"Jesse!"

"Where are you!?"

"A-At a lodge! Some lodge, halfway up the mountain! We found Joel and Dina, but w-w-we need help! Like, fucking now!"

"I'm five out!"

You whispered, "I'm so sorry, Joel, I gotta turn you over, okay? I gotta see..." Biting your tongue, you braced Joel and turned him over, whimpering when he hollered in unfiltered pain. "Oh, I know, I know, I know, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I know, baby, I know, but I gotta see." You quickly shed your outer coat and bundled it under his head, "You're gonna be okay, hear me? You just gotta hang on f'me, I'm gonna fix this. I'm so sorry, I know," you repeated as you were forced to shred his shirt and reveal the blackening marks on his torso; some turning sickly blue, indicating the internal damage. "Fuck! Okay, okay, all right... I-I can fix this, fuck me, how do I fix this?"

"Y-Y-Y/N..."

"I know, Joel, okay? I know - "

"Go," he croaked, "gotta leave me."

"Fat fucking chance," you snarled.

"'M not makin' it," he whispered, "but you still can."

"I'm not leaving you! You're gonna be okay, I'm gonna fix this!"

"Go, baby," he wheezed, delirium setting in, "take... Take care... Of-of our girl..."

"Fuck that, we're both gonna do that. You understand? Joel, you stay alive! El-Ellie? Hey, h-how's Dina?"

"Waking up, I think."

"Good - hey, here, here," you snatched up a canister and slid it across the floor. "Wave that under her nose, babe, it's smelling salts. Might help her come-to faster."

"Okay, yeah," Ellie sniffled, doing as you bid.

"All right, hey, I-I can't do shit for Joel here - we gotta get him back to Jackson!"

"How?"

"Shit," you sniffled, shaking your head, "I-I don't know. His leg, okay, I can - I can splint his leg - oh, fuck me."

"What?"

You examined the wound between tattered bits of denim, "Looks like they blew his fucking knee out with a shotgun, Goddamnit." Ellie whimpered as you scanned the room, movement in the snow through the window catching your attention. "Jesse's here - "

"What do we do?"

"We need help," you nodded, "yeah, yeah, so... We're gonna send Jesse back to Jackson for aid."

"What about us?"

"We stay here - keep Joel warm. Remember? After the university?"

"Yeah," sniffled Ellie. "Y-Y/N, I can't lose him."

"Me neither, baby, so we're gonna help him, right?"

"Do you know how?"

"I'm workin' on it," you whispered, looking around the room.

"Y/N!? ELLIE!?"

"UP HERE!" You bellowed through the open door, stumbling to your feet. With a grunt, you smashed a wooden chair to the ground; shattering it to pieces and collecting viable planks of wood. "Okay, okay, okay," you rambled, returning to Joel's side, "hey, Joel, baby, I-I gotta splint your leg. Okay? Oh, this is gonna fucking hurt, I'm so sorry."

"Y/N," he whispered hoarsely, "don't. Just... Go..."

You glared and shook your head, knowing your next move was a risky one. "Fuck that, you and I go out together. All right, I got an idea. Gonna put you to sleep, honey, but it'll be okay. Hear me?" You hovered over his swollen, bleeding face, "You're gonna be okay, I promise, you'll wake up. Just gotta get you outta pain - then we'll get you home. Okay?"

"Baby," he slurred, "please."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart, I know, but just trust me." Joel's hand twitched and you snatched it in yours, lifting to your lips and pressed a series of kisses to it. "Please, Joel, I need you to fucking survive. You don't get to leave me, I-I need you. Hear me? Okay? Just trust me, I'm gonna get you help. Endure and Survive, right? Remember? Endure and Survive, Joel!"

He nodded as best he could, eyes fluttering as Jesse came sprinting into the room. "Holy... Shit..." He paused to take in the sight of fresh carnage. "What the fuck happened?"

Ellie sobbed over Dina, who was finally waking; and you were pressing the needle to Joel's vein and administering the anesthesia. "You're gonna be okay, baby, I promise, I swear, can't leave me - not like this. You're gonna wake up," you whispered to him, watching as his eyes fully shut and he went slack with slumber. "Jesse! Get over here, man, I need help!"

"What the fuck happened?" He repeated, jogging across the floor while dropping his pack - shoes squeaking in halt when he caught sight of Joel's injuries. "Oh, my fucking God - "

"Help me splint his leg, please! Fuckin' please! C'mon, we don't have time!"

"Right, okay."

Together, you and Jesse constructed a splint out of the chair debris and a torn sheet from the other room. You knotted it where you could, watching Joel's face for signs of pain - but he didn't twitch, only breathed shallowly. Your eyes met the lad's and admitted, "I-I don't know what to do next. How do we get him back to Jackson, Jesse, please?"

"We ride like hell," Jesse answered.

"He shouldn't be upright and bouncing around!"

"We got another choice? I can ride back, but time's workin' against him. We could try to build a sled, but - "

"We search the house first and if there's nothing, he rides with me. Luxor and I are fastest."

"There we go," he agreed, already rocketing to his feet.

"Ellie! Watch them!" You commanded as you and Jesse set out to ransack the lodge for anything that you might use to tote Joel. By stroke of fucking luck, in the basement, you found what the previous owner's kids must've used to skate down the icy hillside; figuring it was good enough to use now. After locating Jesse, the pair of you assembled the shed and tug ropes behind Luxor and used found pillows and blankets to line it; then rushing back inside.

"We can both get him down the stairs," Jesse panted.

"We're gonna have to."

"I can help," Ellie stood, Dina leaning against the wall as she regained her strength.

"Fuck it," you breathed, waving her towards Joel, "let's go!"

It wasn't easy; Joel being a grown man of pure muscle and the three of you with only minimal strength. Yet your adrenaline made you feel like Bruce Banner; letting Ellie support his shattered, shot leg out straight as you and Jesse upheld his torso. Down the stairs and out the door, you drug Joel into the sled and immediately covered him with the blankets as Jesse went back for Dina. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough - forced to leave Joel to help Ellie into Dewey's saddle.

"Wait, wait, wait - "

"Please, Ellie, don't fucking fight me, you're injured, baby, you ride with Jesse. Dina'll be all right, I promise - but we gotta go. Now, okay? Before the blizzard kicks up again."

Ellie nodded through her tears as the other two finally made it back. You explained to Jesse the plan and helped Dina into Butterscotch's saddle, ensuring her balance before telling them to get going. Leaving everything else behind including five corpses, you checked on Joel to make sure he was still breathing; kissing his forehead and muttering promises and apologies as you took your place at Luxor's side.

With a heavy sniffle, you begged the horse, "Don't fail me now, buddy, we gotta save him. C'mon - nice and easy, right? Together... Let's go."

You navigated the mountain on foot, keeping Luxor at an even pace while simultaneously ensuring Joel didn't slide away or topple over. It was frustrating to go so slow, but necessary; and the moment you were on level ground, doubled back to cover Joel's head before hoisting yourself into the saddle and spurred Luxor forward.

Snow was kicked up over Joel, but you had wrapped him tightly for protection; soon passing Jesse, Ellie, and Dina to gallop for the smoking town in the distance.

With shot nerves, you navigated through the makeshift hospital of Jackson; steaming mug of coffee in hand as your feet shuffled down the hall to the last door on the right. A voice called your name, making you pause and look back to spy Jesse approaching you with three wrapped plates stacked on top of one another.

"What's that?"

"Figured y'all hadn't eaten today," he eased.

"Hm."

"You all right?"

"Yeah, just fucking dandy, honey. You?"

Jesse frowned, "How's Joel?"

"Still asleep."

"You know, it's been two weeks..."

"What's your fucking point?"

"That you need a decent night's sleep - Ellie and Dina, too."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead, kid, thanks."

Jesse frowned, "We're just worried about'cha."

"Yeah? Well, I'm worried I killed my fucking husband 'cause he won't wake up. Guess we're all worried, huh?"

"Y/N," he sighed. "You haven't left his room since we got back. You can't just stop taking care of yourself, Joel's gonna need yah to help him - gotta have your strength."

"I'm fine."

"That why you look like fucking shit?"

"Don't push me, kid."

Jesse sighed, "Fine, but you gotta eat."

"I'm good," you held up your mug.

"Can't sustain yourself on fucking coffee. C'mon, I brought you all a plate."

"That's real nice of yah, thank you," you accepted the balanced to-go plates in your one hand; leaning them to your chest to keep hold.

"Just... Take it easy on yourself, okay? There's no way you could've known this would happen - "

"That's the thing, Jesse," you warbled softly, "I knew. He was beat t'hell, I knew the Propofol might've been too much, that he might not wake up... But the worst part? I promised him he would. I fucking lied to my husband and killed him in the same breath - "

"He's still breathing," Jesse snapped.

"Fine, then I put him in a coma. That better?"

Before he could retort, the last door on the right ripped open and Dina came toppling out, shouting your name. When she saw you just feet away, she sobbed, "He's awake!"

Three full plates and a mug of coffee shattered on the ground as you nearly tripped over yourself to race into the room. Inside, there was a single bed with a plethora of different machines all whirling and beeping obnoxiously; but there was Ellie, sat bedside, sobbing into Joel's tubed chest. "Hey, hey, hey, what's - "

"He's awake! Y/N, he's awake!" She wailed, forcing herself to lift up and reveal Joel's alert face.

"Holy shit," you heaved, eyes wide and chest hollow. "J-Joel?"

"Hey, baby," he croaked, wincing at the dryness of his throat.

In earnest shock, not even noticing Dina and Jesse behind you, your breathing turned choppy, "Oh, my God, Joel! Y-You're awake, Jesus fucking Christ!"

"C'mere," he mumbled, lips sticking together as Ellie removed herself as if to make room for you.

"No, no, uh," you sniffled, gesturing at Ellie, "you stay put, baby girl, I-I-I'll be right back."

"Where're you going?"

"To find Tommy," you backed up two steps; chest heavy and ready to cave in.

"I can do that - "

"I got it, kid, y'all keep him company f'me," you assured Dina, tears streaming as you stumbled out of the room.

"Hey!" Jesse followed you into the hall, door slamming shut. "Hey, Y/N! What the fuck was that?" But Jesse slowed when you collapsed into the wall, using it to keep upright as you tried to keep walking forward; slowly tripping over your feet and crashing to still-bruised knees. "Oh, my God, hey, Y/N. Hey, hey, hey, what's goin' on? You okay?" He worried, lowering to the floor. Noting the way your chest heaved up and down and how your breathing was rapidly shrill, he calmed, "You're okay, Y/N, hey, just breathe. You're panicking, you just - just focus on breathing. Hey, you're okay, you're not alone."

"H-He's alive," you managed breathed gasps. "He's alive, he's alive, he's alive. I-I didn't - he woke up, I ain't kill him."

"No, you didn't," Jesse chuckled in disbelief. "You saved his life, Y/N, just breathe. You're okay."

"I-I - "

"No, I know, but you just need to breathe f'me." You nodded and watched him, following his direction as he breathed with you - in and out, in and out, in and out. "All right, good, that's real good - just breathe with me. Good girl, c'mon, in, two, three, four; and out, two, three, four; in, two, three..."

The door opened again, Dina peaking out to discover the sight; catching Jesse's eye. He nodded with meaning, making the girl double back to grab Ellie; leaving you on the floor with the young man instructing your breathing. When the two girls exited, Ellie worriedly rushed for your side, questioning your name as she knelt, "What's happening? What's wrong? Are you okay? Hey! Oh, my God, talk to me, Ma!"

"She's having a panic attack," Jesse relaid, not commenting on her referal to you as something remotely motherly. "She's all right. Good, Y/N, that's real good - just breathe. Hey, look at me, look at me," he waited until your eyes lifted, "you're okay, I swear to you. Joel's alive, he's okay, he's awake - you didn't kill him, didn't put him in a coma. So, c'mon... You head back in, okay? Go see your husband, I'll get Tommy."

You sniffled and nodded, Ellie remaining in place as Jesse slowly got to his feet. "We got her," Dina assured, finally making him turn to head off. "Y/N? Hey," she squatted before you, "Joel's askin' for yah. Wanna head back in?"

"Yeah, yeah," you rambled, "I-I - yeah, ne-need t'see him. Need t'see him alive. J-Just needed - just needed a second. 'M sorry - "

"No, it's okay, you're good," nodded Ellie, "think you can stand?"

"Mhm."

"C'mon, I gotcha," she hushed, taking up your arm to help you clamber up the wall on trembling legs. "You okay?"

"Mhm."

"Right," she sighed. "Hey, c'mon, let's go in... I'm right here with you, I'm right here. We're all okay... You, me, Joel, Dina, we're okay, Ma, we're all okay - all alive."

But as you reentered the room, Ellie and Dina hung back to allow your reunion to occur in privacy. You didn't notice, preoccupied by the sight before you; Joel awake and seemingly alert, his lips pulled on one side in a smirk. "Hey, baby," he rumbled, making you snap out of it to take up the cup of water on his bedside stand. "Where'd you - "

"No, no, don't," you whimpered, bringing the lip of the cup to him, one hand around the base of his head, "just drink first, honey, please."

Joel's gaze didn't tear from you as he accepted the water, choking minimally from the action he hadn't done by himself in two+ weeks. You determined what was enough, lowering the cup but keeping your one hand on the back of his head; twisting to set the cup aside before quietly turning back to him. "C'mere, baby," he whispered, casted hand twitching to pat his fingers beside him with indication. When your mouth opened to protest, he begged, "Y/N, please." So, you dropped down beside him softly, careful not to jostle his injuries - but forced to take in the sight of his slowly-healing face. "Why'd you run? Not happy t'see me?"

Shaking your head, you admitted, "So Goddamn happy and relieved, I panicked for a second."

"Why?"

You sniffled, the tears cold against your dry cheeks, "Thought you weren't gonna... I mean, you were... Baby, I did this. I-I'm so sorry - "

"The fuck you mean? You saved me, sugar."

"No, you weren't waking up - I-I put you in a fucking coma - "

"That wasn't you."

"I took a risk with the anesthesia. I knew your injuries might've been too much, that too much damage was done and if I put you t'sleep, and you might not wake up, b-but I just - you were in so much pain and we had to get you back if you - "

"Hey, hey, hey," his fingers hooked around yours in an effort to take your hand. "Baby... You saved me. Ellie and Dina told me all what happened."

"They shouldn't've."

"I asked."

You sighed, shaking your head, "Joel, I..."

"Talk to me, baby, please."

Meeting his eyes again, you whimpered, "I didn't think you were gonna make it. That girl - Abby? Gabby? Whatever, she, uh, she... She used a golf club. You were more than fucked up, I thought you weren't gonna wake up - I mean, by all means, you shouldn't've - "

"But I did," he comforted, "because of you."

You sniffled again, "Don't say it like that, please. I just - I'm so fucking relieved you're awake. I'm sorry, Joel, I should've got there sooner."

"You got there just in time."

"Almost didn't."

"From what I remember, saved Ellie and I - again."

You shrugged, "I wasn't gonna lose you, either of you. You two are everything t'me that I just reacted, I didn't have t'think. I was so worried, but she - she had a gun at you, I had to stall for time."

"You did the right thing, Y/N."

"Then why do I feel so fucking guilty?"

"You shouldn't - you're a Goddamn hero."

"Don't feel like one."

"Maybe you will when I get up and movin'. Get us back to normal, right?"

"Joel, that ain't happenin' for a long time, baby," you informed quietly, glancing at his leg. His gaze followed, sighing deeply at the bulging knee the Jackson doctors managed to save under a warm blanket. "She had a shotgun..."

"I remember."

You winced, "You should get some rest - I'll-I'll grab the doctor - "

"Don't you dare leave me," he snapped, fingers lacing tightly with yours. "Just - c'mere, please, lemme feel you."

"Fuck no," you refused, "you're still healing and there's a limited amount of pain meds. She got you pretty good, Joel, you're real fragile."

"Enough that I can't hold my wife?"

"Enough that you can't hold your wife," you chuckled dryly. "But, um... I can sit here. I can stay - I'll stay. I'm sorry I left, I just couldn't believe after these weeks, you're awake. Made my heart feel... I don't even know - "

He sighed gently, just staring at you. "It's okay, baby, I understand. Know, you were the last thing I saw... But you look like hell right now, darlin', the fuck happened?"

"Haven't slept in weeks."

"You fuckin' eat?"

"When I remembered. Dina brings me most meals."

"Y/N Miller."

"I was just so worried," you whimpered, tears drowning you. "I worried you weren't gonna wake up, that I'd lose you at any moment. I wanted t'be here, just in case... I... Joel, I just..."

"I know, baby. Ellie said you haven't left this whole time. Hey," he breathed, earning your red-rimmed attention. "Need to thank you, sugar. F-For savin' us, savin' me."

You nodded, "Saved my ass plenty of times, now we're even."

"I heard you, you know? I heard you the whole time, it was all I could hang onto. But I heard you tell Abby you shot her father...? Risky move."

"I needed her to focus on anything other than you. She could've shot you, I wouldn't've been able to do anything and I needed to - I needed you to-to-to - "

"Endure and Survive?"

"Yeah, exactly. So, I lied, told her what I thought would piss her off enough to, you know, take the heat off yah."

Joel's lips twitched at the side again, "My smart fuckin' girl."

"Selfish girl, more like."

"How's that?"

You shrugged, "Didn't wanna be without you, Joel, I can't do this without yah. I need you, Joel, and I... I couldn't let her kill you. Bad enough I got there too late and she beat the shit outta you."

Joel's voice cracked with emotion, "It's not selfish, Y/N."

"No?"

"Nah, baby. The feelin's so fuckin' mutual, 'cause I need'jah, too, sweetheart, and I'll be damned to do this without you, either. You and I, we're gonna grow old - well, older, together, surrounded by our family, all of Tommy and Maria's kids - Ellie and Dina, too. We ain't gonna go out like that, we get t'die like we lived. Together."

"Yeah?"

"I promise," he swallowed tightly, eyes crinkling as he winced. "Can't get rid of me, baby, not that easily."

"Fuck you," you scoffed, "that wasn't easy, not t'see, not t'watch, not t'fight against. It was so fucking hard - I can't ever go through that kinda shit again. Hear me? Never again, Joel, I can't handle it - "

"Nah, nah, nah, never again, baby. I promise. I-I'll talk to Tommy, we're done with patrols - "

"No, you're fucking done," you snipped. "I'll earn both our keep, but you're done, Joel, I can't fucking go through that shit again."

"What if something like that happens to you - "

"I killed them all. There's nobody left that would come for us."

Joel's eyes flashed, "There's those in Seattle."

Your head shook, "Doubt they'd give enough of a fuck to avenge those bastards."

"We don't know that. So... So why don't we both retire, baby? C'mon, like we always said. You think you can't handle that again? Imagine how it'd fucking feel to learn something happened to you and I wasn't there to protect yah. Please, Y/N, we both retire - we don't run that risk no more."

"All right, deal," you agreed through your tears, leaning over him to hold his cheek and press several kisses to the corner of his mouth. "Fucking deal, all right, yeah - "

"Honey? You missed."

"Nah, you're still healing - "

"A kiss ain't gonna hurt nothing," he grunted. "C'mere, please. Don't make me beg... Besos, besos, besos." With a small, watery chuckle, you obliged and pecked his pouting lips - earning another groan. "That's not what I meant - mh!" You cut him off by pressing a prolonged kiss against him, careful not to press too hard and reopen his split lip. He hummed in content, free hand occupied by only an IV lifting to caress the back of your head in an effort to keep you in place. This time, when you pulled back, he mumbled, "Never again, sweetheart."

"Never again," you agreed softly, gently petting a salted curl from his forehead; hand drifting to gently trace the contours of his healing yellowing-skin. "I love you so fucking much, Joel. Don't do that to me again."

"I love you, too, darlin'. Never again - we're done. I swear, we're fucking done with all that."

"Good," you whimpered, glancing back to the usual seat you'd claimed the past couple weeks as you watched over him. "All right, hey," with a sniffle, you slowly lifted from his bed, "Jesse went to get Tommy, but you get some rest, all right?"

"Fuck that, been resting long enough. Just wanna be here with you, baby."

"Got a helluva long recovery ahead of yah, gonna need your strength."

"Think I'll walk again?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it - but we'll work on it together. You'll be okay... That, I can promise."

Joel nodded with a gentle sigh, watching you maneuver back into the armchair Dina had pushed into his room for you. He didn't let go of your fingers, eyes silently watching you as if to ensure you were there - but you did the same. After seeing him on the brink of death, you feared you couldn't look away from his living, breathing form ever again. Quietly, he garbled, "Don't leave."

"Never, baby. I'm right here, I gotcha."

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

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f1cflcfic · 18 hours ago

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Won't Say I'm In Love (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) - part ix

pairing: lando norris x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n); past carlos alcaraz x tennis player!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons and/or events

bonus: one, two, three

May 10 - 18, 2025

[Transcript excerpt: Serena Williams & Y/N L/N's "Athletes on Athletes"]

"So, Serena. You've had an amazing career in tennis - to me, you are the Greatest of All Time. But what would you say is the one sacrifice that people might not expect you've had to make?"

"I think a lot of people immediately think of family, and having Olympia and Adira. It wasn't easy, and I did have to think at one point - do I want to really win another championship, or do I want to raise my family and be present. But there's also a lot of other sacrifices you make along the way. I've had times where family members were sick and I couldn't visit them, because I was playing a tournament. I think about the friendships I lost, because I didn't have time to invest in them. And there are a lot of the things I couldn't experience with my peers. Of course, I also gained a lot of things by not doing others. It's more so a choice perhaps, a trade-off, than a sacrifice."

"Yeah, I resonate with that a lot. I'm feeling that now with my niece having been born. And I'm so lucky that my sister is willing to plan her wedding around my schedule, which is insane of her but I love it, too. I think having a family isn't really on my mind at the moment - but I would love to be in love. I just think that it's really difficult for anyone to measure up against the love I have for tennis. And so it doesn't necessarily feel like a sacrifice to put that first. Tennis is my first and forever love. I would want a partner to understand that. My biggest nightmare is not being able to play anymore. Only after that comes being alone."

"Yeah. I think it's about perspective and priorities - and those shift over time. You live and breathe tennis, but it's not all that you are. As long as you've got a solid foundation of people around you who lift you up, but who also keep you grounded and can remind you of that, then you're going to be good. You'll land on your feet. That loyalty we feel to tennis, it's the same loyalty you need from your team. And I think that perhaps that's the hardest choice to make sometimes. When you have to say goodbye to someone you've been on a journey with for so long, but they no longer fit."

"I think that's so hard. It's difficult to know when you need the comfort and stability to perform at your best, or when you need to be challenged to perform at a new best. I'm still figuring that out. But a solid group of friends, I have, thankfully."

May 19 - 25, 2025

[Transcript excerpt: McLaren's Teammate Challenge video]

"For this next bit - we will write down the answer we think the other person's going to give."

"So it's not necessarily what I think is the right answer, but what I think Oscar is going to answer."

"Indeed, Lando."

"Alright then. We'll start with a few easy ones. What is my favourite cuisine?"

"Easy indeed, I've written down Italian."

"Well done Osc, that's true. You go next."

"What is my middle name?"

"Pssh. Done. It's Jack. My turn then - who's my celebrity crush?"

"I've gone for Y/N L/N."

"Wrong - I don't have one."

"That's unfair! We all know the ansewr is Y/N. He can't just make up a new celebrity crush."

"Of course I can? She's my actual friend now. Celebrity crushes are for people you admire from a distance."

"And what if you admire them from up close?"

"I think we should go to the next question."

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ ∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘∘•···············•∘

author's note: well, it's 1:15 AM and officially King's Day in the Netherlands, but wanted to get this up finally as promised! Next part should be up a bit sooner as it's pretty much finished already and involves some big moments and realisations for y/n at the French Open :) :)

♥ likes, comments, reblogs and asks are always very much appreciated - i love chatting and hearing your thoughts! ♥

taglist (open): @linnygirl09 @julesbog @midnight-and-books @sarx164 @obxstiles @freyathehuntress @vhkdncu2ei8997 @berrnuu @lightdragonrayne @glow-ish @batsratswrites @blushmimi @colmathgames2 @esw1012

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mikimakiboo · 3 days ago

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Time Travelers AU - Well, well, well...

I know I said I was gonna get back on track but I failed an exam and my grandpa's sick again so I'm really trying my best here :') I think I have ideas for two chapters after this one ? I'll try to write them faster than one month each lol :'D

I really want to get over Cross's time, I love this boy but I don't have much to say about his time sadly :')

Also everyone go check out @ancha-aus 's drabble because it is amazing !!! It takes place later in the story so I will link it again when we get there but still !! Go read !!

I swear I spend more time looking at dictionaries than actually writing the chapters, why did I gave them all dead languages

First

The first night in Cross's house had been fairly calm, Horror and him had managed to make a bed for everyone, though Nightmare preferred sleeping on the bench on the kitchen side of the house, Cross couldn't blame him honestly, straw wasn't what someone would call a fancy beding, compared to it anything would be better, even a bench. Killer was very happy with the straws and kept making little braids with it, five in total, and he gave one to everyone afterward. Horror was fine too, Cross never heard the viking complain about anything anyway, so either he was really fine with it or he was just very polite. Dust was strangely excited, Cross didn't think it was possible to be excited about straw beds after having used the amazing couch in his house but here he was, mumbling things to himself as he sat on the bed.

It luckily hadn't rained, so the humidity didn't come in and they were able to keep a certain warmth inside of the small house. Usually peasant houses shared the space with the cattle and the warmth of the animals would heat up the house, but Cross was a knight, he didn't have animals, so he had to rely on fire, but as he didn't have infinite wood he would most of the time keep it to cook and use this heat to warm himself up.

Cross had been the first to wake up and had rapidly been followed by Horror. He saluted him with a smile.

- Dieus vos doinst boinjor.

- Kveðja, ér sofa vel ? Horror answered.

"Vel" meant "well", that Cross was sure, and he remembered Horror using "sofa" to say "sleep", with these two words he guessed he must have either asked if Cross slept well or informed him that he slept well. Cross nodded, both answering the question if it was aimed at him and showing satisfaction if it wasn't.

- Volez avoc moy aler a jart ? Cross asked if Horror wanted to go to the garden with him, pointing at the door.

He needed to pick some vegetables for dinner and the others were still asleep, so he might as well grab them now and not bother his friends later. Horror looked at the door, frowning slightly.

- Ek þurfa vitja úti ? He asked, confused.

Cross was confused too, what did Horror understand ? He looked around for a second before grabbing a basket and showing it to Horror, then going to the door and signing for him to come along as he went outside and around the house towards the small garden. Horror followed, curious, and watched as Cross pointed at the different plants than at the basket. Did Cross want him to pick those plants and put them in the basket ? He slowly picked a carrot and looked at Cross as he put it down, seeing him nod, he smiled, and both of them started picking the vegetables, teaching each other their names. It was nice, and when they went back inside, everybody was up.

Cross put the basket on the table, letting Dust inspect it, he seemed rather curious about the vegetables, surely comparing them to those he had at home. He glanced at his countertop, he had just enough bread for today and maybe tomorrow morning, he would need to go in town tomorrow in the afternoon and buy some more. He could bake some, sure, but it was time consuming so he preferred buying already prepared ones. He also checked his water supply, he needed to go to the well.

- Eo dei a puit aler. Dust, volez moy sivir ? Cross gathered all his courage, asking Dust to follow him.

Dust looked up at him, thinking, his sockets always squinted a bit when he was thinking, and he ended up looking at Nightmare who was staring at the bench, well, not the bench, but the little straw braid Killer made him and that he had put on the bench for the night.

- Nightmare ? What d-

Nightmare flinched and sharply turned to look at him.

- Oop, sorry, didn't mean to startle you, Dust apologized, what does "sivir" mean ?

Nightmare hesitated, his gaze diverting for a second, before he talked, for the first time since the forest, though his voice was low, not as self assured as when he would talk in Dust's time.

- S.. suivre.. ? He stuttered.

Everybody caught that, but nobody commented.

- Suivre ? Dust repeated, like uhh... I know this word, I've seen it on social media... oh ! Follow ! Yeah ! He turned to Cross, smiling, yeah I'll follow you ! I'll uhh.. sivir vos.. ?

Cross smiled, feeling a rush of warmth in his chest, he just invited Dust to the well, he did that, oh god. He quickly nodded and grabbed two empty jars before heading to the door that Dust opened for him.

- Nos anteruns viste !

They will be back soon, he said as he went out with the hoodied skeleton, leaving the three others together.

- So... what's a "puit" ? Dust asked as they walked.

- Por panre l'aigue, li n'en estat gueres à maise.

He explained as simply as he could, telling him it's to take water as he didn't have any at home. Dust just frowned.

- Huh-huh. Well you know what ? "Aigue" sounds like "agua" in Spanish and since you've got jars I'm gonna say it's for water. That or wine. I don't know what people usually drink in the Middle Ages.

He finally answered. Did he understand ? Cross had no doubt he did, Dust was smart, he always figured out stuff.

- Now if we're going to grab some water I guess it's either a river or a well ?

Cross liked hearing Dust talk, he had such a sweet voice, so confident and yet always sounding unsure at the end of his sentences, as if he was expecting to be wrong about every supposition he made when really he was probably the most smart of them all.

- ... Did I say something stupid ? Dust frowned, sounding a bit nervous.

Why would he feel nervous ? Cross didn't see any reason to feel- oh god he had been staring. He quickly shook his head and looked forward, a purple blush on his cheekbones.

- P-pardon. He apologized.

- Okay.. ?

The walk to the well was... awkward, Cross didn't dare look at him, he didn't want to stare again, at least with his arms holding the jars he wasn't tempted to grab Dust's hand.

Once they arrived Dust looked at the stone well with wonder. Was it the first time he saw a well ? He did have water directly in his house, so maybe wells weren't a thing anymore in the future ?

Cross put the jars down, grabbing the bucket attached to the log above the well to make it fall in until it hit the water and slowly filled itself. Dust was watching carefully, bent over the hole, his eyelights were almost sparkling with curiosity and Cross could see the water reflecting on his bones... he would give anything to be allowed to hold him close and-

- It's full, Dust announced, straightening.

- O-oh uh, oil.. ! Cross was brutally shaken out of his thoughts.

The bucket was full, so Cross pulled on the lever until it came back all the way up to grab it and pour the water in the first jar, when he straightened up Dust was looking at him. He made a grabby motion towards the bucket.

- Can I try ? He asked, badly masking his excitement.

Cross couldn't help but blush as he handed him the bucket and watched as he put it back in the well to wait patiently for it to fill. He didn't think such a simple activity would interest Dust so much, and yet here he was, happily filling the jars with water. There was something childish and yet so attractive to it, Cross wanted to protect that, he wanted to protect that amazement for everything that surrounded him.

- Estrez tanz jolif... Cross said without thinking.

He instantly blushed, he really didn't mean to call Dust pretty. Well, Dust was pretty, but he didn't mean to say it to his face !

- Huh ? Dust answered, not having heard as he was putting the bucket back on the edge of the well.

- E-Eo diseie nos devrïens antrer !

He corrected, saying they needed to go back home as he grabbed the two full jars.

- Oh, we're going ? Don't you want me to hold one ? They look heavy, Dust asked him, going to grab a jar but Cross stopped him.

- Eo puys porter, mercit ! He thanked, telling him he could hold them.

- If you say so, Dust didn't insist.

Cross smiled at him, and lead the way back home with two full jars and a soul racing like never before.

He really needed to get his thoughts under control.

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microwavesaferat · 2 days ago

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I've seen multiple hcs of English Teacher Jason Todd, I've also seen multiple teacher aus in general. I would like to propose a 3rd Option:

Secret Day Jobs

All the Robins and Batfam extended universe (aka, until I get bored) have started doing day jobs as they get older, but they are all worried Bruce will bench them if they find out they're burning the candle at both ends, so they keep it secret.

We all know Dick is a cop in some comics, but I would like to propose they all go into teaching in some way. They don't tell the others, and gradually all end up transferring to the same school. We're also assuming they are all adults here.

We have:

Jason Todd - English Lit Professor. Doesn't like dealing with college kids, so moves to high school literature. Sometimes covers drama lessons if it's Shakespeare plays.

Dick Grayson - Health and Wellbeing (don't know if this is just a UK thing, sometimes called PSE). Basically teaches kids the dangers of smoking and how to stay healthy mentally and physically. He also runs the schools gymnastics club and helps at some other sports clubs.

Tim Drake - Computing. One of those teachers that doesn't care if you swear or call him the proper title. Does not care if you are misusing the school computers. He figured out the others are all teachers and hacked himself onto the payroll cause he thought it would be funny. Hacking emails to change names to see how long he can keep the others from figuring out they all work in the same place.

Damian Wayne - Biology. He kind of wishes he went into chemistry, because he despises the giggles and childish behaviour whenever something mentioned in the course is even mildly sexual. Refuses to do the frog dissection and nearly gets into a physical fight with the head of department. This event is what clues Dick into his presence, "Did you hear the new biology teacher threatened to kill Mr Smith over something? Apparently had a Katana or something in his desk".

Cassandra Cain - Guidance Councilor. Very good at interpreting the body language of the kids. Also does some work with ASL interpretation when needed. Thought everyone was aware of each other and isn't really trying to hide. Tim still has no idea she's here. Dick gets jumpscared when Cass shows up to one of the after school clubs he helps at.

Stephanie Brown - Somehow in a different position everyday. She appears as a janitor one day, then she's doing the school bus run the next. On Fridays she works in the Canteen cause the food is good on Fridays. There explicitly to annoy Tim who knows she's there, but can't find her in the payroll.

Duke Thomas - Politics/Modern Studies. The sort of teacher to say he's putting on a documentary, then pauses every 30 secs to go on a tangent about something. Disagrees with half the shit in the curriculum, so does his own thing. The projector in his classroom hasn't worked for months, but no one needs to know that.

Also, the moment they all figured out they are all there.

Dick hears about the frog incident and very quickly catches on.

Duke goes to the office to pick up jotters and Stephanie is working there.

Jason used the guidance councilor's room to take a minute and chill. Cass was on top of a cupboard for 10 mins before revealing herself.

Dick goes to grab the first aid kit after a kid falls at gymnastics and Stephanie is the Custodian in today.

Damian needs some supplies and the lab tech is Stephanie.

An Arkham breakout happens during a parents night and all of them run to change into costume. Issue is they all hid their costumes in the janitors closet.

WE runs a scholarship fund for students and Bruce has to show up to the awards ceremony for successful students. He gets a tour of the school only to slowly run into all of his kids. To start with, the tour is run by Stephanie who is refusing to break character.

Stephanie: Thank you for coming Mr Wayne

Bruce: Stephanie wha-

Stephanie: Please, Miss Brown, Stephanie was my father.

Steph: Anyway, here is our lovely new labs that WE do graciously funded.

Damian: *Yelling at a child to follow safety procedures*

Bruce: What? Dames?

Stephanie: and down to the left is our English department.

Jason Todd: *Animatedly discussing the influences of Romeo and Juliet in modern culture*

Steph: This is our lit teacher Mr Todd Peters

Bruce: *makes a note to remind his kids on good undercover names*

Well I'm tired but will probably add to this at some point.

#batman #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #dc robin #batman au

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iridescentxstars · 1 day ago

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-> 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 .ೃ࿐ [part two]

➳ published: 25.04.25 ➳ credit: banner: @aaagustd || beta: @wooahaeproductions @kwanisms @yoongihan ➳ werewolf!au || bakery!au || enemies to lover!au || genre: smut || angst || supernatural || fluff || dark || rating: m ➳ pairing: alpha!bangchan x bakery!reader (fem) ➳ summary: a decision in chris' past leads him down a road that brings him to his mate and even though he says he doesn't want her - it seems destiny, and others, won't take no for an answer. ➳ word count: 28.1k (this part) || total: 56.6k ➳ warnings/kinks: unexpected marking/claiming, violence, toxic behaviour, mentions of cheating (on reader by ex), manipulation, unprotected sex, implications of knotting, masturbation, light pain kink, praise/worship, dirty talk, manhandling, implications of being drugged, kidnapping/held hostage, aggressive behaviour, threats, mentions of death, minor character death(s), panic attack, mentions of a toxic relationship, mildly graphic descriptions of violence/killing/death. ➳ author's note: hello, it's me! it has been 4734873294 years since i started this fic and wow, i hope you love it! the mc is affectionately nicknamed 'sugar' and has minor descriptors just to help flesh her out a little more and she is implied to be curvy and soft (no eye colour, name, etc.). also i wanted to try and change things up a bit when it came to the pov's so 'you' is used when in the reader or a general pov and she/her is used when in another pov. ➳ taglist: @byunparklimchoi @djeniryuu @sanjoongie @honey-andmilktea @skzswife @catlove83 @manuosorioh @wolfs-howling @vserenia @kayleefriedchicken @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @stressymessyana @wildtokay @h0rnyp0t @idiotmaterial @teandtearsxo @ecwipsecoffee @black-sunshine-00 (please let me know if you want to be tagged in future works)

“You owe me twenty.” The wolf smirks, holding out his hand for Minho, who simply chuckles and digs around in his back pocket for the note.

The two wolves watch as Chris pushes through the crowd, causing a slight ruckus as he shoves people aside. Even at this distance, they can see the conflict on his face, the way his emotions are all over the place as he heads for the door. They had seen her and Chris disappear and placed a bet on whether Chris would come out first or if she would – making the older of the wolves the victor.

“It seems like the Alpha is having some regrets.” His thin lips lift in a smile as he watches Chris exit with a couple of betas he had managed to grab along the way. “What do you think it is? Having been weak for a human? Losing his virginity in the bathroom of a house party? I really thought him getting laid would put a smile on that man’s face but he looks even more pissed off than usual.”

Minho shrugs, making a sound that shows he doesn’t know or care as to why Chris is pissed off. When he sees her walking out of the bathroom, adjusting her dress and giving under her eyes a final wipe as if she had been crying, then it seems like he’s paying close attention. “How did you know that they’d fuck? They could have fought.” The wolf raises an eyebrow, never really having understood how Theo knew so much about her especially when the older didn’t run in the same circles as she did. “You’ve been stalking her since you came to town?”

Theo chuckles, shrugging his shoulders innocently, “Maybe. She’s the Alpha’s mate, who wouldn’t want to learn more about her?” His dark eyes watch her looking around, searching for someone, probably Minho. “You should take her home. If Chris really did fuck her and leave like that, she’ll need a shoulder to cry on and who’s shoulder is better than her new friend?”

“And what, kill her in a car accident? I’ve been drinking, idiot.”

Theo growls and rolls his eyes before shoving the twenty he had just gotten back at Minho. “Get an Uber. Fuck.”

Clicking his tongue, Minho shakes his head and wonders why the fuck he puts up with the rogue before the constant ache in his chest, the feeling that a part of himself is missing, reminds him why. This is all for her, he thinks to himself. Turning away from the man, Minho makes his way towards her and pushes through the mass of dancing bodies before finding her standing in a corner by herself, hidden in the dark. He can smell her distress rolling off her in waves, causing the beta to want to hug her but as he gets closer, he can smell Chris’ scent all over her.

Gross. He likes her natural scent better.

“Hey, there you a-ah, what’s happened?” Minho asks, softening his expressions to look like he’s been looking for her the whole time rather than talking to someone about how she's fucking Chris in the bathroom.

He half-expects her to launch yourself at him, to want to be consoled and held as she cried about how much of an asshole Chris was to her but he has to give her credit, she's holding it well even if her eyes are shining with unshed tears. Reaching for her, he notices the way she pulls away from his touch and shakes her head.

“I want to go home,” She mutters, trying to keep her voice low so he can’t hear how broken and hurt she is. “Please.”

Even though the friendship started as Minho using her as a means to an end, seeing her hurting like this, trying to look so small so nobody would look over and see her on the verge of tears – it pisses him off. “Come on,” he nods, a hand barely touching the small of her back as he leads her out the back of the house so she doesn't have to walk through the dancing crowd. “Did something happen?”

She remains quiet as they walk, eyes focused on the ground in front of her and only turning when Minho prompts her to. Not a word is spoken between them until they are standing at the end of the driveway and Minho is on his phone, ordering them an Uber. “This was a mistake.” The words are so quiet, so soft that they could have been carried away with the gentle breeze blowing her hair into her face.

The wolf looks at her, waiting for her to say more but she remains quiet, unmoving and deep in her own mind until the Uber comes and Minho decides that if she isn't going to tell him now – maybe it’s best to let her get home to bed. “Call me tomorrow, yeah?” He says, helping her buckle her seatbelt and pats her head gently, “I’ll come around and we can do something.�� A nod is the only answer he receives before he closes the door and watches the tail lights fade into the night.

“This was a mistake?” He repeats, brow furrowing. Did something happen and she regretted coming to the party? “Fuck sakes.” The wolf is too buzzed to try and figure out what she could have meant and if he’s going to have to deal with her crying over Chris tomorrow then he’ll need a good night’s sleep.

This plan better fucking work.

The next few days are quiet. Whether it’s because the universe has seemed to allow you time to process what has happened or because you turned your phone off and refused to leave your bed is irrelevant to the fact that it’s quiet.

Silent.

Perfect to overthink what happened at the party.

You don't want to talk about it, not really, maybe just a little… Okay, you want to talk about it but you don't know how to. What are you meant to say? You’re upset because some guy who’s been nothing but an asshole to you fucked you so good that you could feel it the next day and then said it was a mistake and left you to clean up alone? Yes, it’s a valid reason to be upset but for some reason – you’re more upset about it than you should be and you don't know why.

It’s not like you’ve never had a one night stand before, it’s not like you’ve never snuck out of a bed yourself, it’s not like this is different to anything that’s happened in your past but it definitely hurts a lot.

A mistake. That’s what he said. That’s what upset you. Everything else you could have dealt with, actually, you expected it considering you are meant to - no, you do hate each other. You didn’t expect Chris to hold you, to kiss you and say he enjoyed himself, or to offer you a ride home. You didn’t expect Chris to be kind afterwards but you didn’t expect that.

Never that.

Reaching for your shoulder, the woman pulls your stretched-out faded tee to the side and sighs when you faintly see the bite mark he left behind healing nicely. “Who does that?” You mumble under your breath before covering the mark up and rolling out of bed to finally shower. “I’m not letting him have any power over me, he means nothing, I will not waste my energy on some stupid man.” You repeat the words to yourself that got you through your breakup, hoping that it works better now than it did back then.

You try to put on a tough front, always trying your best to be less sensitive about things that do cause you to feel any type of way. Oddly, physical pain doesn’t hurt you as much, Serena teases you about it saying that maybe you have a pain kink but what does get under your skin and sit with you and bother you are words. Sometimes you are fine, unbothered by harsh words thrown your way like when you would be called a know-it-all in university or when people used to tease you about a crush you had back in high school. Sometimes, they were only ever just words that held no meaning because they were said by people who mattered very little to you but other times – they would sit with you for days. Once, Serena had said that you were annoying; you both were young and not as close as you are now and you had always wanted to be like your big sister, following her around everywhere until Serena told you off. It hurt, it made you keep your distance for a while because you didn’t want to be annoying anymore.

Being called a mistake… It's not a nice feeling even when it’s been said by someone like Chris.

“His words mean nothing, he means nothing. I’m going to get up and shower. Start my day. I will not think about this anymore.” Overthinking has always been your downfall, something that holds you back, so you try your best to get out of that headspace and enjoy your last day off before Serena drags you back downstairs.

No more being sad over meaningless words and men. You can do that. Right?

“You did what now?” Felix drops his coffee cup, the ceramic smashing on the ground, when Chris tells him what happened at the party. The Alpha tried to be rather nonchalant about it, tried to shrug his shoulders, and act like it wasn’t the biggest deal of the century – Felix, however, refuses to let that happen. “You did what?”

Sighing at the theatrics, Chris drops heavily onto the brown leather couch and lays down with an arm behind his head. “You heard what I said.” The words are spoken more towards the ceiling than the beta.

“Yes, yes, I heard but now I need you to repeat it again. You had sex with your mate at the party Minho threw?” There are a lot of things to unpack in one sentence. The beta’s brown eyes are wide in shock, comically round, but there’s also a glimmer of hope shining within them as he thinks that this might mean that his Alpha has finally accepted his mate. “How do you feel?”

That’s a fucking loaded question if Chris has ever heard one.

How does he feel? He feels everything. If he thought that he knew the world that he lived in before, he was so fucking wrong because Chris feels like every sense has been heightened and sharpened overnight. He feels like he’s an addict waiting for the next hit, coiled and ready to see her, smell her, touch her, taste her on his salivating tongue as he recalls her arousal. Fuck, he’s losing his mind thinking about how her soft flesh felt beneath his fingertips, remembering the sounds she made as he took her in the bathroom– Chris clears his throat and rests a hand on his tense abdomen while furrowing his brow and clenching his eyes closed. Chris feels like the stars have finally aligned, that the universe finally makes sense but there’s also this dull ache in his chest.

Something feels wrong, like a pain sitting in his chest. Whether it’s because he can feel the anguish his mate is processing from the bullshit he had said before fleeing the party or because he never claimed her properly, a reaction to the moment, something that wasn’t meant to happen – either like that or at all – something feels wrong.

He needs to fix things with her if he’s going to get rid of that feeling. It’s distracting.

“I’m fine.” He lies easily when he realises that Felix is watching him with scrutinising eyes. Chris can’t let him think that there’s anything wrong because the over-eager beta will drag him to the bakery to make things better.

“Can you feel her? Do you feel that longing people talk about, not seeing them, not being with them? Does your wolf make it hard to think because he wants her around? Is it as bad as you though–”

“Enough.” One word silences the wolf and he whimpers, bowing his head as he backs away slowly, eyes lowered to the ground and Chris groans slightly. It’s not the beta’s fault that he’s touchier than usual, it’s his own. Running a hand over his face, Chris sits up slowly, deciding to put himself and Felix out of their misery by going to see her.

Who knows whether she would actually speak to him because it was not lost on him, what he said as he exited the bathroom that night. He knows that he said something that he never should have said but there were so many things that were wrong about what they did, and the things that have been slowly happening since only proves as much.

Getting up, Chris runs his fingers through his messy hair to try and tame it, his jaw tensing as mixed emotions rush through him. “It’s time to go get the order anyway,” Felix practically jumps and rushes for the door like an excited pup, the mess on the ground forgotten, while Chris drags himself to grab his wallet and keys. He won’t deny that he is feeling an unfamiliar bounce in his step at the prospect of seeing her but there’s also this feeling of dread for what comes after as well. The conversation they need to have, the way he needs to explain what he is and what this means – also needing to claim his mate properly. Her mark should have healed by now, he had barely broken skin with the bite, so it’ll heal and fade but it won’t remove the bond that’s been formed.

It’s not often that a bond won’t snap into place and solidify immediately because usually when a wolf claims their mate – they don’t fuck up. It takes an intimate connection, for both bodies to be in tune with one another, when the bond is formed and sex is usually the easiest way to go about it as both bodies reach a high that is often achieved together. The dominant wolf will mark their mate, their teeth breaking skin and drawing blood as they climax together but that’s where Chris went wrong. He didn’t go deep enough, he barely left a mark so something that’ll connect his soul and hers feels incomplete.

It doesn’t take away the intense need to see her now that he’s had a taste of her, his mind on her every moment of the day, but everything is dull. Drowning in the murky depths with muffled sounds barely registering as he struggles to breathe. He can almost feel her, almost see her, oh, his fingers could almost reach out and close around her pretty throat and taste her on his tongue but almost is not enough.

Almost is barely scratching the itch.

The brooding wolf hasn’t heard a thing that the other has said as they pull up to the curb and Chris is out of the car before he’s turned it off. “Chri–” Felix is left standing on the sidewalk as the older pushes through the door and stops under the jingling bell.

Where is she?

A ghost of her smiles at him, a fading image that disappears into reality when Chris is met with an empty counter. Inhaling deeply, he takes in her scent, the sweet sugary scent mixed with green apples that is unique to her, but it doesn’t settle the wolf inside – it causes the hairs on the back of his neck to rise in alert when he smells another wolf. Not just any wolf. A wolf that seems to be playing a dangerous game considering his antics as of late.

Minho.

Turning on his heel, Chris nearly rips the door off its hinges as he opens it and storms outside to try and clear his head. His wolf is growling, furious that another wolf has been hanging around but there’s also this worry that’s nagging at him. How long has Minho known? There’s no way that this is a coincidence, that the rogue has decided to befriend a woman who just so happens to be his mate – Minho is far too calculated to have that be an accident.

Felix appears in front of him, the blonde looking worried as his wide eyes take in his Alpha. The sun makes his freckles stand out, something that many would find rather pretty about the beta, but they seem dull as the colour drains from his face. Felix’s hands lift to rest on Chris’ shoulders to try to stop the slaughter that’s about to happen, having noticed their presence before the older wolf. It takes a little while before Chris clicks on, confused at the way Felix is behaving but then he hears it, the softest laugh that has his entire being vibrating with the sound as he looks for the source, for her – only to see that she’s walking with, talking with, fucking laughing with, Minho.

“Chris–”

“Move, Felix.”

The other holds fast, pushing with all his might. “Please. Don’t–”

“I said, move.” The command comes out in a deep ferocious growl and causes the younger to move quickly out of his way, also catching the attention of the happy duo walking towards them.

Her expression sours immediately as she sees Chris, stepping closer to Minho, who is looking rather bored when his dark brown eyes meet Chris’ nearly obsidian black ones due to his wolf pushing to take over and tear this traitor from his mate’s side. It’s only when a wave of anxiety and fear washes through him that Chris stops in his tracks and takes deep inhales to try and settle himself – barely being able to do so while looking at them together. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” The comment is rather strange to you, unsure why it’s any of his business as to what it is that you’re doing but before you can even answer, Minho sighs.

When he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closer, you swear that you heard a possessive growl rip through Chris’ chest and even though it shouldn’t cause you to react with a clench of the thighs – you couldn’t help it. He’s quite frankly the biggest dickhead you’ve ever met, maybe worse than your ex if that’s even possible, but she cannot deny the way their bodies melded perfectly together that night. “What does it look like I’m doing? I took my friend out for lunch and am now walking her back to work. What are you doing?”

Chris’ eyes slowly move over to look over at you, looking you up and down before flitting back to Minho and the corner of his perfectly soft lips curls upwards in a sneer. Heat rushes through you, anger bubbling in your blood as you think it’s aimed at the fact that you’re the friend. “You should find another friend.”

Scoffing and not wanting to deal with his unnecessarily rude attitude, you push past the man blocking your path, making sure to put your shoulder into it. “Fuck you,” you utter under your breath when your shoulder throbs slightly from the impact since it seems he’s like a solid, immovable force that keeps coming back to make you miserable. You’ve had enough belittling, had enough feeling like you were something to be brushed aside or treated like you’re worthless, you refuse to stand there and let another man act like you are a piece of shit when he’s the one acting like it.

His hand wraps tightly around your wrist and you swing your free hand with all your might. You felt bad the first time, you felt so guilty for having laid a hand on him but this time – you don't have that same sentiment.

Though, this time, Chris is prepared, catching your wrist quickly before you make an impact.

“It’ll be wise not to try that again,” he says in a low tone, the voice almost sounding threatening with a hint of amusement. The hardness in his eyes softens as he looks at you and his hold loosens but not enough for you to be able to break free. “We need to talk, Sugar.”

“Let me go,” you grit out, your other hand joining in to try and pry off his grip.

Pulling you closer, Chris doesn’t listen. Of course he doesn’t, he’s a big, stupid Alpha male who thinks he owns you and can do what he wants. “You need to let me explain.”

Your hand rests on his chest, keeping him from leaning in too close and causing your brain to short circuit. Your body is practically vibrating and while you would like to say it’s anger, rage even, there’s an undercurrent of something else. Anticipation, need, you aren't entirely sure but it’s not the reaction you want to be having around him, you do know that much. “Explain what?” You struggle a little more, feeling eyes on you and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Chris…” Your eyes look around; Minho keeps his distance, glaring at Chris but not stepping in, Felix watches with a shocked look on his face and then you see a couple walking past slowly, watching this play out, “Please, let me go.” You try to plead with him, hoping that’ll work.

To your surprise, it does.

Creating distance between you, you rub her wrist, hating the longing for his touch that he’s left behind. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” you lie. You have a lot to say, a whole novel to tell him but you don't want to give Chris any satisfaction of knowing that he’s caused you to feel any type of way. “Go away.”

You see the tick in his jaw, the clenching of the muscle being more attractive than it needs to be at this moment as you turn away to keep yourself from admiring him instead of being angry. It’s been happening a lot, even though your mind tells you that you hates him, that you can’t stand him, and how he’s the biggest asshole to ever walk the planet – you’re always finding yourself thinking about the way his hands caressed your curves, the way his lips felt as they pressed against your skin and how his smile causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

Storming into the store, you take a moment to breathe, to calm yourself down before turning to look at the two men who are basically having a staring competition outside of the building. Testosterone and idiocy flows between them while poor Felix stands behind Chris, looking over at you and back at Minho, over and over again. You don't know why, you aren't sure what it is that keeps you rooted to the spot but something in the back of your mind tells you to be ready.

What you need to be ready for is a mystery.

Watching them is like watching a silent movie without the luxury of subtitles, a silent, action movie where the two men are about to have a showdown to try and win the girl. Even though the girl can’t stand one of them. You can see Minho talking, the smirk on his lips colder than the smile you’re used to. It’s not born from laughter and filled with amusement but coming from a darker place. The narrowing of Chris’ eyes shows that whatever Minho is saying is getting to him, irking him enough to show the emotion on his face and you wonder if the two are rivals. You begin to make a whole story up in your head, a narrative to match the show before you and you come up with a plot that puts the two as high school rivals who probably dated the same girl. Maybe they were friends, this is usually where they are best mates and then the other betrays their friend by dating the girl they’re in love with, right? Absolutely. Who did what is unclear but from the way Chris is looking almost murderous, his teeth clenched as he responds and Minho’s shoulders shaking with laughter – you assume Chris was more or less the victim here.

Not that you care or anything.

Minho’s eyes meet yours and you gasp, hand flying over your mouth as his smile widens into a more wolfish grin and he says something that you aren't sure you read right. He speaks slowly, with a purpose, as if he knows you’re trying to read his lips and gather what they are talking about. ‘Maybe I should claim her…’, it makes no sense to you and you’re sure that you are wrong but whatever it was has Chris throwing a punch.

“Oh no!” You gasp, rushing outside. Before Minho can regain his footing, Chris grabs him by the front of his shirt and gets in his face as he starts shouting nonsense.

“Hey! HEY!” You duck under Chris’ arm and somehow, miraculously, manage to squeeze in between the two bodies so you can push them apart. Felix was already trying to pry the man off your friend, saying that this is what Minho wants and to not let him win but you don't really pay attention to that – to anything being said really – as you’re trying to diffuse the situation as best as you can. “S-t-o-p,” you groan, pushing with all your might against the brick wall of a man in front of you, his pecs rippling as your hands are splayed over the muscles. “Chris–”

“Breaking cover, big guy.” Minho laughs and you try to look over your shoulder to glare at him only to nearly suffocate from Chris’ chest in your face.

“Stop! B-both of you!” Your arms hurt, aching with exertion until finally, you manage to separate them. “Just because I don’t want to talk to you, doesn’t mean you can go around throwing punches at my friend! Brute force isn’t always going to get you what you want!”

“He knows no other way, sugar. He’s a beast,” Minho provokes further, only to have you round on him next.

“You’re just as bad! This isn’t a pissing match!” You don't understand his amusement when he snorts at your comment but you’ve had enough. Your nerves are shot, and your emotions are all over the place simply by being too close to Chris. What was meant to be a day where you wouldn’t think about what he said and how it made you feel afterward has ended up turning to shit because now you’re just confused by him! “Whatever issues you two have with each other, leave me out of it!” You throw your hands up in exasperation and resignation before stomping away.

“Sugar,” Chris calls your name, causing your hand to hover over the door handle, “I do need to talk to you about what–”

“Come by tomorrow. You’ll have five minutes and then I never want to speak to you again.” You slam the door behind you, walk immediately into the kitchen, and announce you’re signing off for the day, leaving Serena stunned at the sudden change in her younger sister’s mood.

You lay in bed, tossing and turning as the music plays softly through the speaker, barely drowning out any of the thoughts that are keeping you from resting peacefully. Your body has been on high alert ever since you saw Chris yesterday, your mind distorting the male aggression as some sort of romance novel moment and causing you to feel conflicted about what it is that you want – what it is that you want to do.

Minho has been great company but since seeing him push Chris’ buttons, you don't really want to be around him right now until these feelings, this flurry of emotions that you don't understand, have dissipated and you can think clearly. You’re angry at Chris, angry at Minho, and whenever you think about either of them that anger begins to amplify and you want to scream, or hit something, which is unlike you, and that results in you feeling overwhelmed and unable to trust yourself behind the counter.

How can you serve customers with your usual charm when you can barely bring yourself to appreciate the warmth of the sun?

Rolling over onto your back, you sigh and reach for your phone to turn the volume up before staring at the ceiling. One song blends into another and you close your eyes, welcoming the sudden calm that settles your racing mind as you focus on the music rather than your life. You’re trying not to think about that night, the one that has caused you a lot of anguish over the past week or so but you can’t help certain memories that begin to stir and the way your body heats up as you remember.

The conflict you feel; oh, it rushes to the front of your mind but for the first time since that night, it doesn’t push away the way he made you feel. While the whole Alpha male bullshit isn’t exactly the greenest flag in a man; there’s something about the possessiveness he displayed, the need to own you, to make sure nobody else could touch you that sent a thrill through your mind. The way his touch caused electricity to rush through you and the high it gave you.

You swear it’s Cloud Nine.

Was it wrong to want more? Was it wrong to want to know what his body felt like hovering above yours, the way his abs would tense or muscles would ripple as he took you? Was it wrong to think about how those sinful lips would feel tracing over your navel before dipping low? Was it wrong to hate him and everything he is but also wanting his fingers to be the ones slipping under your shirt?

A shuddered breath leaves you, fist curling on your stomach before it can travel further down your body. As you reach the waistband of your panties, you groan because what are you doing? “He’s such a fucking asshole,” you try to remind yourself, remembering everything that Chris has done since you met and comparing it to the biggest asshole you could. You swore that you would never go for a man like that again and you were just about to touch yourself at the thought of him?

Are you really that desperate or do you have an underlying degradation kink that you’re pretending doesn’t exist?

Desperate. That’s what it is. Desperation and terrible taste in men.

“Why are the hot ones always so… messy?” you mutter to yourself, closing your eyes and trying to push away any and all thoughts of Chris – only to fail miserably. He’s invading every thought, even if you’re trying to think about anything, everything else, he’s pushing his way into your mind like he owns the space. With every thought comes a wave of lust, hate, and hurt all mixed into one and while those words he said rush through your mind, it seems your body wants the exact person you shouldn’t.

Him.

You shouldn’t want him as badly as you do right now, the tingling sensation between your legs shouldn’t even exist when that man makes himself known in your mind but it seems that what your brain knows – your body disagrees with. You close your eyes, trying to win the war within yourself but as you try to convince yourself that this is wrong, your hand makes its way down your body, tracing over your skin, from hip to hip before teasing under your waistband. The anticipation and war going on is making you rather impatient. “I hate him,” you whisper, licking your lips as you suck in slightly and push down your panties.

A scene begins to play. A twisted scene that only seems to blur reality. You lean against the counter, hips swaying from side to side as Chris walks around behind you and places large hands on your hips. “Stop teasing me,” he growls into your ear, grinding himself against your ass and you only lean forward even more, pushing back against him.

Fingers brush over your pubic area, making their way lower towards your pulsating heat that’s starting to ache the more you give in. “I bet you love a good tease, don’t you?” Your voice is soft, trying to keep anyone from hearing you. As if there’s anyone else in the apartment. Swallowing thickly, you lightly tap on your clit to send a shiver down your spine, as if testing to make sure that this is what you want to be doing. “You probably think all this back and forth is foreplay.”

You know you’ll never get an answer but for right now, as you pull your hand back out of your panties to suck on your fingers so that you can resume your little fantasy, you have the perverted idea of him answering for you. “Isn’t it?” You can hear the smirk on those sinful lips of his as hands travel up your back and down again to spank your ass, “it seems to turn you on.” Oh, you’re so glad that he doesn’t know this or that he can’t read your thoughts because wouldn’t he use this against you?

Probably but he can go and fuck himself.

Just like you’re about to.

Rubbing your clit slowly, you build up to it, wanting to take your time with this to make sure you’re relieving all your stress… until…

“Hey, I’m here to talk to Sugar,” Chris walks into the bakery when he knows it's closing, having thought that he would see her the moment he walks in – only to have Serena glaring at him. He knows that the sister would know all about him, isn’t that the whole point of siblings? To have them hate the people you hate? He can practically smell the resentment rolling off in waves as he stands in front of the counter and looks into the kitchen window, thinking maybe she decided to hide from him. “Is she here?”

“What do you want to talk to her about?” The questioning, slightly disapproving tone doesn’t surprise him considering what he’s done but it doesn’t mean Chris’ eye won’t twitch in response.

Deep breaths, he tells himself, trying to keep calm. “I have some explaining to do-”

“Yeah, you do.”

He tries to let that slide. “I asked her yesterday if we could talk and thought it would be best to wait until she had finished for the day.” Serena hums in agreement, nodding her head and Chris sighs because this is starting to annoy him. Sure, he deserves this but still, can she let up on the fucking protectiveness considering she’s allowing her to hang out with a sociopath like Minho. “So, where is she?”

“Upstairs.” Oh, wow, such a great indicator. Serena then waves her hand in a general direction, “Go through the kitchen and out the back, there’s a set of stairs that go to our apartment. Her bedroom door is the one on the left, she might be napping or screaming into her pillow so make sure you have some manners and knock.” Chris’ jaw ticks and he narrows his dark eyes to meet Serena’s who matches his energy without backing down.

She’d make a good Alpha if she was a wolf.

Knocking twice on the counter as he takes his leave, he follows her directions with a quick nod of his head and a passing ‘thanks’. The wolf doesn’t want to have to talk to her any longer than he has to because if she is pissed off with him already, he doesn’t want to have to give her another reason to throw him out the moment she sees him. It’s fairly straightforward, getting into their place and Chris hates how anyone could walk in here even if they are downstairs. “Don’t they have any form of security?” he mutters to himself as he walks through the apartment and notices the decorations around the room.

Colourful. That’s the only thing he can think of that doesn’t sound like he hates it all. The way the rooms are splashed with colour, there’s happiness oozing out of every photo he looks at as he walks around, clutter from various hobbies litter the walls and any surface that they can sit on including being spread over the coffee table because someone didn’t clean up after themselves. The way that their home is everything that he isn’t, the complete opposite of the way he keeps his space, and it makes him wonder how the world could think that they would be a good match.

Opposites attract, isn’t that what they say? Maybe it was because he needed the spontaneous behaviour of her, the laughter, and light while she needed the security and structure that Chris could provide her with.

Whatever. He can deal with that thought process another time.

“The room on-”

“I bet you love a good tease, don’t you?”

Chris freezes as his hand hovers over the door handle, sucking in a deep breath when he hears her soft voice whispering sinfully over the music on the other side. Does she have a guest? No… he would have smelled someone else the moment he stepped inside. His mind starts to race, trying to figure out what is going on when a wave of arousal rushes through him, hitting him like a truck before he has time to realise what is going on.

It’s not that he hadn’t been thinking about it as he was walking up the stairs, it’s not like he hadn’t been thinking about it the entire drive to the bakery, but Chris is almost always horny – it’s the practised self control that keeps him in check most of the time. He hadn’t even thought about how the arousal could have been coming through his mate, as weak as the link currently is, intense emotions can still make themselves known and whatever she is feeling – or doing – is intense enough to have Chris thinking about something he shouldn’t be right now.

“You probably think all this back and forth is foreplay.” Ah fuck, she’s masturbating. No wonder. Running his fingers through his short, black hair, Chris inhales deeply, trying to get his mind into the right place but it seems that her pleasure has started to increase which means his dick is now painfully tight in his pants.

Fuck, if that door opens now…

Lifting his hand up, closing his eyes, and steadying himself, Chris gives the painted white door a few raps of his knuckles and all he’s met with is “oh, fuck off!” and the sound of shuffling as she gets up to open up the door. Taking a small step back, the wolf takes a deep breath in preparation for the scent that is about to hit him with full force. “What is- What do you want?” The words come out harsher than she wanted them to, he can tell by the shock on her face as she says them, but she holds firm as she glares at him.

Her legs are bare, the old t-shirt that she’s wearing being pulled down to cover up her core but it also draws more attention to her chest, nipples standing out against the grey band tee and begging to be pinched.

The moment Chris opens his mouth, he knows he’s going to lose his breath and mind but with the look of pure annoyance on her face, it’s not like he can not say anything. “You said to come when you finished. Your sister said that you were up here and let me find my own way in.”

“You couldn’t have waited just five more minutes?” She groans, squeezing her thighs together and shuffling in place.

Oh fuck, he knows he shouldn’t. He knows that he really shouldn’t make a comment but how can he not when it’s right there? “Five minutes? You give in too quickly, Sugar, ever heard of delayed gratification?” Her lips part in surprise at his words and she takes a step back into her room while Chris now steps forward to block the door frame. Strong arms fold over his chest, his black sleeveless tee pulled tight over the muscles, as he leans against it and looks her up and down, breathing in the sweet scent saturating the room. He’s meant to be here to talk about things, to clear the air and make sure that she’s aware of the danger that she’s getting herself into by hanging out with Minho. He’s meant to be strong and tell her to steer clear for her own safety while also telling her everything about what he is.

He’s meant to… but haha, like fuck is he going to be thinking about that right now.

“You were really going to get off when we are meant to be having a talk?” He tilts his head, dark eyes running over her legs and pausing at the hem of her shirt that’s still clutched tightly in her hands. “Were you thinking about me?”

Scoffing, she looks away, cheeks flushing red and heartbeat picking up as she shakes her head. “Why would I think about you?” She narrows her eyes when she looks back at him. “It was a mistake, right?”

Those words are like a slap to the face. Deserved, sure, and the guilt that sits deep within his gut knows that he should back away right now before something happens but this is what they are, right? Gunpowder and a match ready to explode. Chris can’t help it, can’t help himself because he loves the fight, the way she doesn’t back down even when it’s against her nature to be confrontational, he loves the way he gets under her skin while she makes her way into his every waking thought.

The silence only adds to the tension building, the way their eyes are locked on each other, the air around them growing thicker as Chris pushes off from the door frame and walks deeper into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click that is almost drowned out by the way her heartbeat hammers against her chest, the thumping matched by Chris’ own racing heart. With every step forward Chris takes, she retreats until the back of her legs hits the bed and her hand is placed on his chest to keep him at a distance. His eyes glance down, the muscles in his jaw tensing as she swallows thickly and takes shallow breaths while thinking about what to say.

“You-you’re here to talk.” Her voice quivers as she tries to take control of the situation.

Nodding, Chris answers with a low, “Yes.”

His hand reaches for her, wrapping around her and pulling her closer so that their chests are now pressed together, her hand trapped between them. Fuck, have her lips always looked that decadent, that kissable? He can’t remember but he’s noticing them now. Leaning closer, he focuses on them, the tip of his nose gently brushing against hers. “Th-then, we should talk.”

“You weren’t a mistake,” Chris whispers against her lips, feeling her gasp.

“What?”

“I said, you weren’t a mistake.” He continues tracing his nose gently over her cheek, inhaling her scent which is tainted with her arousal. How easy would it be to take her right now… if he was an uncivilised beast.

He can feel her resisting, trying not to give in as if he’s in the mood to give her any more answers right now. Chris wants her, he wants her to give into the way their hearts are beating in time with each other, the way electricity is thrumming through their veins and making every nerve in his body come to life with her close to him. Sure, he should do the smart thing and talk to her, tell her what is going on, what has happened, and give her the chance to decide whether she wants to even fall into this world.

However, he doesn’t want to give her the chance to run. Well… not in that sense at least.

“Chris…” she breathes out softly, her breath fanning over his face.

“Ah, fuck,” he mutters, lips parting as he tangles his fingers in her hair, gripping the locks to keep her in place. “Say my name again, just like that.” It is barely a moan, barely a sound of arousal but the way she shivers at the deep, low sound that vibrates through his chest only amplifies why they would not be talking until they were done.

“We should talk… Chris…” That’s his girl. The way she said his name went straight to the growing erection making itself known against her stomach as his lips crashed against hers. Their bodies will do the talking more than anything else, he’ll claim her when she reaches her high, and when they are wrapped up in their own little world, coming down from the clouds, he will tell her everything.

He lowers her to the bed, hovering over her as their tongues caress, while he rolls his hips and grinds his erection against her. There’s a whimper before her hands reach down to pull up the hem of her shirt and Chris pulls away to remove it completely, wanting to see her in her entirety, seeing the healing mark on her neck, faint due to it being incomplete. “You left quite a mark,” She mutters softly as a hand raises to touch it before Chris gently grabs her hand so his lips can trace along the discoloured skin instead.

Kisses are peppered along her shoulder, wet kisses left as his lips move up her neck, along her jawline until he reaches her lips again. His mind is telling him to take it slow, to revel in the feel of her body, in the sight of her beneath him but there’s that voice in his head that tells him that gentle is not his forte – that she would look even better with her legs over his shoulders as he fucks his knot into her. “Ah-” A hiss passes through his teeth as she giggles against his lips, her hand pulling him out of his thoughts… and pants. “Couldn’t wait, huh?”

A simple shrug of the shoulders is the only answer he’ll get as she starts to stroke his cock while his hips move on their own. He closes his eyes, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself as she moves her hips so that as he thrusts into her hand, his cock is so fucking close to sliding through her slick cunt. The tip is hitting her clit and causes sweet shivers of pleasure to rush through her body, causing that heady scent of arousal to almost suffocate him. God, he wants her, he wants her right now and does not want to wait any longer.

He’s barely started and he can’t stand it.

It doesn’t take very long for Chris to practically tear his shirt from his body, his pants dropping to the floor shortly after before he’s back onto you and sliding his hard dick into your very needy core. “Fuck,” you moan, tilting your head back as he starts to lick and nip at your exposed throat, adding to the stimulation that is currently causing your body to feel extremely sensitive.

That electricity that you always feel when you’re with Chris, that same sensation that coursed through your body when you danced at the party comes rushing through you and makes everything heightened. Your bodies are perfectly in tune with each other even though it makes zero sense as to why they are. There’s no explanation as to why you two fit so perfectly, why you feel so content and full with him stretching you out with each thrust, there’s no reason why it should feel so fucking good when everything about the two of you is so wrong!

You hate each other, or that’s what you keep telling yourself because if you really hated him, those words that he said wouldn’t have affected you as much, would they? You’d have agreed and felt that way too.

Thoughts soon leave your mind as Chris’ thrusts start to get faster, deeper; the sound of skin hitting skin echoes through the room, mixed with low grunts and the soft begging for more. “Don’t stop.” Your arms wrap around him, nails scratching down his back and causing Chris to growl as he keeps up the pace, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly. You can feel it building, you can feel it in the way your body moves in time, trying to reach that high that you’ve been desperately needing to help your body relax – to help your mind relax. His head is buried into your neck just as the crashing waves of ecstasy wash over your being, your back arching as a scream leaves you due to the intensity… and the pain. Your eyes are watering as Chris doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm with his teeth penetrating your skin, drawing blood. It should be unbearable but mixed with the immense pleasure you’re currently feeling as he continues to hit that spot, not slowing down in the slightest as he chases his own end – it only heightens your pleasure even more.

“More, please, Chris, more.”

He pulls back slightly to look down at you, eyes glowing for a brief moment before fading and you put it down to a trick of the light, your imagination, rather than the thought that sounds in the back of your mind.

“I need more, please.”

He stills for a moment, closing his eyes as he listens to your begging for him as if it’s the best thing he’s ever heard. “Fuck, how can I deny you when you sound so good?~.”

Without warning, Chris pulls out and you whine at the loss of him, walls fluttering around nothing as if being empty is a crime. He moves quickly so that he’s standing and you finally manage to glance at the man in all his glory. You’ve never been superficial with looks, while your partners have always been attractive to your standards; your sister and friends may have thought otherwise, but Chris? Now, he’s a specimen they would approve of – if he wasn’t such an asshole.

Not only does he have the height that makes him perfect to grab the top of the door frame and tower over you but he also has the build of a god. His muscles were noticeable in those t-shirts that you had seen him in but to see them, to be able to trace your fingers along the veins of his arms and over his rippling abdomen, is something else entirely. Standing before you, dark eyes hungry for you, jaw tense as if holding himself back, Chris wraps his large hands around your ankles and pulls your ass to the edge of the bed. You figure you could look past the attitude that he has if it means forgetting your name every night and only calling out his.

That’s simply your horny brain talking, though.

“Turn over, ass up in the air,” Chris instructs as he effortlessly flips you onto your stomach and grips your hips to help lift your ass up to the perfect height to take you. Once in position and with no warning, he pushes in and the thrust alone has your body lurching forward before you can even prepare yourself. “Fuck, you really are perfect.” Those words are muttered under his breath as he starts fucking you at an unbelievably fast pace that has your brain shortcircuiting and fists gripping the sheets. You’re not even sure if you had heard him correctly but you can’t get a word out to ask.

You can tell he’s getting close by the urgency in his thrusts, in the way he’s holding onto your hips so harshly that you’ll definitely have bruises afterward. Sweat lightly coats both of your bodies as exertion sets in and you can feel yourself building up to another orgasm before Chris pulls you up by the shoulder so your back is against his heaving chest. “I’m going to-”

“I know,” Chris grunts into her ear, “so am I.” Wrapping one arm around your chest to hold you into place, his other hand finds her clit and starts rubbing it in circles, slowly building up to a pace that has you flailing in his arms. “Don’t hold back, princess, fuck, let go for me. That’s a good girl.” He whispers the sweetest encouragement into your ear before kissing the sensitive bite mark he left behind. “Lose yourself, Sugar, I’ll keep you right here~.”

It all happens too fast for your brain to register, to even comprehend what happens as your orgasm hits you hard. All you know is that his fingers won’t stop as you’re stretched impossibly full, white bursts behind your eyes as your body goes limp in his arms and Chris’ teeth hold you in place as a low, primal growl sounds deep in his chest. Everything happened too fast, was far too much for your body and mind, that consciousness starts slipping away from you as Chris carefully moves the two of you so that you are both lying on the bed, awkwardly wrapped up in a blanket.

“Ah, I guess I went too hard on you, Sugar.” A soft kiss is pressed against your cheek, “We’ll talk when you wake up, hm?” You try to respond, only for it to sound like incoherent gibberish. “Sshh now, go to sleep.”

When you wake up, your body feels sated and oddly warm considering you’re naked and under a sheet. As you try to move, needing to get some water, you find yourself unable to move due to the arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to the softly snoring man next to you. “Oh–,” you gasp.

“Don’t seem so surprised,” Chris whispers, eyes still closed as he pulls you close and buries his face into your neck, taking deep inhales while subtly scenting you. “How are you feeling?”

The gentle way he speaks, thumb caressing the skin of your hip as he holds you in place, is a complete contradiction to the last time the two of you were intimate. Maybe it’s because this time it was different, neither of you were in an intoxicated state and in the bathroom while everyone was partying, maybe it’s because… because what? Nothing has changed, right? Not for you, at least that’s what you tell yourself but even if you say the words in your head, your body settles into him and you close your eyes again. You find yourself unable to think about how this should be wrong because everything feels right, feels like the world finally makes sense even if you’re so confused.

Terribly and utterly confused, but content.

“Don’t go back to sleep, little one.” Chris kisses your shoulder, causing you to wince slightly as his tongue drags over the mark he’s left behind. “We still need to talk.”

Groaning, you pull the blanket up so that you could snuggle back in, ignoring him. “Later.” A deep chuckle vibrates against your back as the arm under your head moves as Chris pulls away. “Can’t you just let me have this?” You roll onto your back as the male sits up, his broad, muscular back on the receiving end of your glare, “I think I deserve as much since last time, you made me cry.” Chris’ head lowers as he sighs and turns slightly so he can look at you, an unreadable expression on his face before the male completely faces you and relents. Moving over, you let Chris lay down beside you so you can cuddle into his side with your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. “You can talk while I lay like this.”

“So bossy.” There’s an air of amusement in his tone. Chris combs his fingers through your hair, trying to tidy up your bed head as he tries to figure out where to begin. “How do I begin…” He hums in thought before you look up at him with a furrow between your brow.

“You could start with an apology.”

Lifting a hand to smooth out the wrinkles in your brow, Chris licks his plump lips, “I did what I did to protect you.” You roll your eyes as you shove at his side to show that you’re not impressed at all. “Ah, alright, Sugar. I’m sorry for making you cry. I’m sorry for trying to push you away – but I’m not sorry for this.” His fingers trace around the mark before tilting your head up to kiss you. A simple indulgence, something he doesn’t often take for himself but he thought that he better get it out of his system now before those lips distract him any further.

“I told you that you had five minutes,” you say against his lips as you part and Chris chuckles and shakes his head, your bossy attitude is amusing, adorable. “So, you better start talking.”

“Will you always ruin the mood like this?” You growl and if only you knew how that affected him, you’d think he’s primitive. “Since I only have five minutes, I think it’s best to tell you straightforward – I’m a werewolf.” You snort, pulling back to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I could tell that you were my mate, someone picked for me that’ll make me a better wolf, a better man – a better everything really. However, I don’t want– didn’t want,” he corrects himself, “a mate at all. While you’d make me stronger, you’d also be my weakness and considering you’re human and have lived in sweet ignorance of the world around you, I wanted to keep it that way.”

You remain quiet, listening, face devoid of any reaction but it’s clear that you’re not buying a word of what he’s saying.

“I couldn’t stop myself from being around you, I couldn’t keep away because I’m drawn to you so I thought that the best thing to do was have you hate me; if I could push you away and have you think the worst of me then I wouldn’t have to deal with protecting you.” Yeah, he’s not really helping himself. “The way it feels when we are together, how right it feels,” he emphasises his words by trailing his fingers over your skin, “that’s all a part of the bond that forms between mates and no matter how hard I tried – fuck, I couldn’t keep away.” He dips down to capture your lips again and your mind jumbles with all the racing thoughts. You’re annoyed, honestly, you’re kind of pissed but when he pulls away and continues to speak, you’re also melting inside and finding that Chris is really, really pretty when he talks.

Maybe that’s the wrong adjective for him because hot, sexy and fuckable are better but as you zone out a little, his story sounding weird and farfetched, you stare at his lips and think about how they feel against yours.

Blah, blah, blah, proper name, place name, back story stuff…

“Minho is going to try and use you against me. You need to stay away from him.” You finally tune back in as Chris comes to the end of his story. You’re not going to admit that you heard nothing more after he kissed you but anger bubbles up in your chest as seconds tick by and he hasn’t laughed or played this off as a joke.

Is he serious? “Are you serious?”

“You think he’s your friend but he’s using you, Sugar. He’s only going to hurt you.”

Pulling away from him, you grab your pillow and throw it at him while frantically looking around your room for your shirt so that you can cover up. Asshole doesn’t get to see you naked… again! “If anyone is going to hurt me, Chris, it’s you.” You ache a little, body still recovering from earlier, “not only did you bite me, twice, I might add but you called me a mistake. You made me feel like an idiot because of the whole situation with your credit card – which you handled like a fucking child. You have done nothing but make me angry and upset and- and- and you made up this whole stupid werewolf, ‘if I’m with you, it’ll be bad’, toxic male, shitty story to try and justify your awful and nasty attitude. I’ve read books with that exact plot and you’re acting just like they did which is infuriating.” You take a deep breath, shoulders heaving slightly. You don't know if you’re making sense, you don't know what you’re saying as you back away and try not to trip over anything on the floor. Everything starts to feel overwhelming and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes which only makes you more annoyed. “Then you try to turn me against my friend? If you are that worried about Minho, maybe you should, I don’t know – treat me like I actually matter to you!”

Chris sits up, looking incredibly calm for someone who is being called a liar and an ass. “Sugar,” he says softly and you feel a wave of calm wash over you which has you feeling even more agitated. “I will show you how you should be treated. I’m sorry I fucked up, I was set in my ways and–”

“Get out.” You are as far as physically possible from Chris inside the small room but it doesn’t help anything at all. Looking at him, being in the same room as him, you even smell like him, it all messes with your head and the only way for you to be able to think clearly is if he’s not there. “I– You’ve said what you needed to say and now, you need to go.” Your voice is shaky, filled with the mixture of emotions rushing through you and contradicting each other. The boiling anger mixes with waves of calm, the pain is being soothed by the gentle caress of feeling safe and this need to cry is battling against your want to hide in his chest.

You don't realise it but the bond created between you two has snapped into place and while your mind is screaming, being near your mate brings a sense of ease which really isn’t helping. In fact, it’s making it worse.

Chris doesn’t move, not right away, and you don't ask again as you gather his clothes and toss them onto the bed. The air grows heavy, suffocating you while Chris dresses and reaches for you, his wolf practically screaming in his head to comfort his mate, to hold you and make it right but you dodge him. Wrapping your arms tightly around your body, you make yourself small and step away, shaking your head to indicate that you don't want to be touched – least of all, by him. “I’ll call you.” He waits for an answer, anything to show that you haven't completely written him off.

Except it doesn’t come.

“Please don’t. Please just…” The defeat in your voice and the hurt that he can feel from you breaks him a little inside. “Just forget this ever happened.” It’s almost like karma coming to spit in his face. A lone tear falls down your cheek as you look at him and the words he had said to you that night echo in the quiet room. “This was a mistake.”

A few hours had passed before the numbness that had overwhelmed you when Chris left started to fade, when the confusion and upset started to shift into anger and annoyance. You had decided that you weren’t going to sit around and let Chris fuck with your head even more than he already has and what better way to get over it than by ranting about it?

Isn’t venting about a problem to a trusted friend the best way to work through how you feel and move forward from a situation?

Fingers fly over the screen as you type out a message to Minho, needing the only friend you’ve been able to open up to. “You free? I need to debrief before I go insane!”

His reply comes back almost immediately, the words making you smile a little and let out a small huff of a laugh. “Yeah, you want food? It always seems to help your mood.” Oh, he’s so cheeky sometimes but it’s what you’ve come to appreciate about him. His lack of filter and the fact that he’ll tease you so easily and openly helps you to be yourself around him because you believe that he’s himself around you as well.

Oh, how devastated you’ll be when you learn the truth.

You decide to dress nicely, always finding a cute little outfit and some makeup helps you feel better – you’re sure that you’ve read that somewhere, some kind of psychology to trick yourself into feeling good. With your hair in a pretty updo, your favourite necklace adorning your neck and allowing it to sit just above your cleavage, you head out the door to meet Minho at your favourite bar. You’re aware that maybe going to the bar and drinking when you’re feeling the way that you are may not be the best idea but if it got you through your break up – it’ll help you deal with these confusing feelings about Chris, too.

Your friend leans against the building, focusing on his phone for a moment before you call his name and claim his attention. His eyes glance over you, an unreadable expression on his face before it shifts into an easy smile, “You look nice.” Minho pushes off the wall, running a hand through his messy brown hair before opening the door for you. “After you.” He dramatically bows his head which has you laughing lightly, already feeling better than what you did earlier.

Why couldn’t it be him? You wonder to yourself as you make your way to your usual table and Minho goes to order you both some drinks. Why couldn’t it be Minho who makes you feel like the world doesn’t exist when you’re with him? Why couldn’t it be him that causes your mind to wander and feelings to stir in your heart whenever you are around each other – even when you are apart? You sigh softly and shake your head as a slight pang of pain rushes through you, trying to push away the thoughts of how right it felt with Chris earlier. You don't want to think about how much he makes you feel, how the anger, the hate and disdain is only a step away from being happiness, love and amusement if things would stop pushing you away.

If he didn’t push you away.

No, this time it was you. This time, Chris opened himself up and you were the one who practically pushed him out the door.

“Ugh.” You bury your face into your hands and groan, “why is this so weird and messy?”

The soft thud of a full glass sounds in front of you and Minho looks at you curiously as he takes his seat. “What’s got you all worked up?” He pauses and tilts his head with furrow between his brows. “Or should I say, who?”

Holding up a finger, you take a deep, refreshing scull of your beer before placing the half-empty glass down on the table a little more forcefully than you intended. “Well, you see…” without interruption, you dive into a recollection of what happened with Chris – omitting the fact that you were masturbating before he had come around. That piece of information just seems like it’s irrelevant to the story. As you come to what really annoyed you, you look around suspiciously before showing Minho the bite mark he left behind, the wound still tingling slightly. “It’s almost like he thought that this would feed into the crazy story he decided to tell me afterwards! You know, instead of just saying he’s sorry for being an ass…”

Minho doesn’t seem to take his eyes off the mark on your neck, even after you cover it back up, his eyes linger on the spot until you finish off the rest of your drink in one inhale and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Can you believe him? Not only is he trying to say that werewolves exist – he’s talking about you like you’re one of the bad guys!” You pause, waiting for the retort, waiting for Minho to say ‘what an idiot’ or something along those lines but instead, he just stares. Snapping your fingers in front of his face and almost startling Minho out of his thoughts, your annoyance grows even more. “Are you in utter disbelief that it’s left you speechless?”

A soft hum sounds from the back of his throat and he shakes his head. “So, he claimed you as his mate?”

While, at first, you thought Minho meant it in a mocking way, like he’s feeding into the ridiculousness of the story, his serious expression says otherwise. The way his eyes remain on your neck before flickering to yours has you looking a little taken aback. Is he actually asking that like it’s a serious question?

“He bit me like some kind of feral beast.” Minho reaches forward, aiming for the collar of your top but you dodge out of his way, holding onto the table to keep yourself from falling off your chair. “What are you doing?”

“Was it deep? Do you feel anything different?”

“Seriously, Minho. This isn’t funny.”

His eyebrow raises slightly as he looks at you for a moment. It’s as if he’s trying to figure out how to deal with the situation even though, to you, there’s only one way that this should have gone. Whatever he’s decided on seems to shift his demeanour and behaviour drastically because suddenly, the man looks bored. “Have you ever thought about the fact that Chris is telling the truth?”

You let out a short, incredulous laugh. “You’re pulling my leg. Tell me you’re joking.”

“No.” Minho leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest as he watches you. Suddenly, you feel like you’re not safe here. Your eyes flit around the room, body suddenly on edge and searching for a way to get out of the bar and away from the dark aura beginning to surround your friend – or who you thought to be your friend. “I didn’t think he would actually go as far as to claim you completely but,” he reaches forward and you flinch, causing Minho to click his tongue in annoyance, “this works just as good.”

“What do you-”

Leaning forward, Minho gives you a cruel smile. You’ve never seen this look in his eyes before, the amusement of knowing that someone is afraid of him, that you’re afraid of him specifically. It’s like a mask has been lifted and the man before you slowly shifts into a stranger, a stranger that you don't know and should get away from. “I can see the wheels turning in your head, Sugar, I’d recommend that you don’t run away,” he chuckles and your flight or fright reflex gets stuck on freeze at the sound, keeping you from escaping, “predators love the chase, after all.”

This isn’t Minho… this isn’t your friend… or maybe this is who he’s been all this time and you’ve missed the signs. Again.

Chris should be happy, should be able to revel in the fact that he’s claimed his mate, but instead, he’s feeling dejected. He feels like a puppy that has just been kicked. She wants nothing more to do with him and can he really blame her? Can he really say that he doesn’t understand why when all he’s done every since they’ve met is lie and push her away?

That had been his goal and now that it seems he’s gotten what he wanted – he doesn’t want it anymore.

“Give her time,” Felix says, a ball in his hand as he throws it at the wall and catches it when it bounces back. Chris hates it when he does that, breaking the peace with the incessant sound of rubber bouncing off wood, but Felix finds the action and rhythmic sounds helpful when he’s trying to work through a problem – and this is a problem. “For someone who isn’t in the know, or doesn’t believe in the supernatural, having a bomb of information dropped on her like that can be difficult to process.”

“I told her the truth,” Chris groans, running his hand over his face. This shows he’s still fairly young to be an Alpha. As strong and determined as he is, Chris has certain flaws that show his age and his lack of understanding about life. Love and women being two of those things. Sure, he knows about a woman’s body, how to bring pleasure and how to have them falling for him but he hasn’t the faintest idea when it comes to the way their minds work about anything other than sex.

Felix catches the ball, pausing to look at his Alpha for a moment, stunned, before throwing the ball a little harder. “You told her that you’re a werewolf and that you did everything you did because you thought it would be better.” His hard tone causes the Alpha to wince slightly. Being told off by his second-in-command is not exactly something Chris enjoys having to experience, especially when it comes to pointing out his shit. “You then told her that the one person she’s happy around, who doesn’t treat her like shit, and has been her friend, is actually dangerous and will hurt her… when… that’s all you’ve been doing.” The ball is thrown with such force this time that it hurls off target and flies back towards Chris – an accident but it drives his point home.

Managing to catch the ball before it hits him in the face, Chris lets out a low growl of warning, “I get your point.” He passes it back to Felix and stands up, running his fingers through his hair for the umpteenth time, making it messier than usual. “I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, I should have eased her into it.” Looking over at Felix, who is looking at him with his eyebrow raised, has him adding on, “and I should have made things right before going and marking her.”

“You really shouldn’t have marked her at the party.”

“It was a mistake,” he defends himself, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling before sighing. “Or at least, I think it was.” If he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t know. He really doesn’t know what comes over him when he’s with her. Chris lives for her reactions, her anger, her smile, the heat in her eyes when she looks at him with both lust and annoyance. The Alpha can’t help himself whenever she’s in his sight, in his arms; every time that they are around each other, it’s like a match being struck before the fuse is lit.

Is this how it’s always going to be? He could live with it – as long as she stays by his side.

Chris’ feet are moving before he’s even aware of it, hands snatching his keys from the bowl by the door. “Where are you going?” Felix calls out, scrambling to his feet in case he needs to follow.

“I need to figure out how to make this right.” The door is closed behind him with a soft slam and Felix just stands in the living room, staring at the place where his Alpha just was. Chris knows that he needs to get his emotions under control, he knows he needs to get a handle on things so that he can do better but for so long, he’s denied himself of feeling anything remotely like this out of fear of what it’ll do to him. Now that he’s found her, his mate, he’s navigating the uncharted territory of his heart and there’s no telling what will happen from this point on.

All Chris knows is that he needs to make it up to her, to make sure she doesn’t keep her walls up with him and show her that this – their relationship – can work. Unconventional, sure, but something that’s been predestined before either of them knew what love was.

Everything is loud. Too loud. People are talking but they sound like they are underwater… fuck, why does your head hurt? Where are you? How did you get here?

You groan, lifting a hand to touch your throbbing head which causes those around you to stop talking and look over at you trying to sit up. Oh no, don’t do that. Your head feels like it weighs a tonne, neck made of rubber as you struggle to lift it so giving up, you curl up on the rough bed that you’re laying on. You know you’re on a bed because of the squeaky springs as you struggle to get comfortable.

Why does it feel like you’re coming down from a six-day bender?

A wave of emotions run through you, fear being the most prominent when you hear your name being spoken by the figures standing in the shadows, one of the voices being far too familiar to be something you’re making up. No. No, you must be out of it and making things up, distorting reality to try and make sense of what is going on. The way he says your name again, he sounds so comfortable, caressing each syllable like it was made to be spoken by his tongue but you know that the Devil isn’t as sweet as he sounds.

No matter how good it feels to have his attention – coming down from the high is not worth it. You learned that the hard way.

They still stay hidden, even though you can tell that one of the two is Minho, it has to be considering the last thing you remember is him smirking at you as you stood up and tried to escape. You don’t know how you got into this position, how you became the bait in the trap designed to catch a dangerous creature but all you know is that you don’t want to be here and no matter how lovely, how kind and caring and sweet you are – you’re not going to sit here and be silent about this.

Looking around, you try to see if you can find a window so you can figure out where you are but the windows are boarded up, keeping you from the outside world. There is no outside noise for your ears to pick up; you cannot hear cars or anything that would indicate you’re in town or near a public area, and this sends shivers down your spine. “Are you going to kill me?” your voice quivers slightly as it dawns on you that nobody, absolutely nobody, would be looking for you. Serena thinks you’re out with Minho, who is here as your kidnapper and Chris, well, you told him where to go and never look back so even if his whole story was true – why would he come to your rescue? You’re alone. Again. With nobody to save you.

Minho sighs, stepping into the light and making his way towards you. “Stop,” you shuffle away from him but don't manage to get far before he grabs your feet and pulls you close. “Let me untie you, Sugar.”

“Why am I here, Minho?” You question, hoping maybe there was something about your friendship that was real and would result in him feeling guilty enough to let you in on the reason as to why this is happening.

“Because you make him weak.” While he’s trying to seem indifferent as he loosens the ropes enough for you to remove it yourself, you can tell there’s a hint of emotion lingering under the surface. A faint hint that your friendship hasn’t been a lie this entire time. “Chris. You make him weak.”

It’s hard to believe, not just that Minho would betray you in such a way but that he would play along with what Chris is saying. It’s clear that they don’t like each other so there is no reason for Minho to feed into it – unless there are such things as werewolves and that you’re somehow mated to one. Though, you don’t exactly want to believe it. Even if it becomes the only possible reason, you want to believe that there is something else going on – like maybe this is all a joke. Right? Some kind of sick joke that they are all playing on you. Shaking your head, denying reality, you laugh in disbelief as you rub your aching wrists, trying to relieve the uncomfortable feeling. “That makes no sense. You’re not making any sense,” you mumble, not looking at Minho or his companion still in the shadows, watching.

“I told you that she wouldn’t believe it. She’s always been a little stubborn like that. No matter how she seems on the surface, sweet little Sugar is as fucking stubborn as they come.” The voice has your entire body tensing before you even look in his direction and see his face.

“Theo.” That one word, his name, is said with a mixture of confusion, hurt, anger and a sense of familiarity. Why wouldn’t it? You dated him, this was the man who broke your heart and made you vow that you would never allow another man to have that kind of power over you again. You changed after him, in a way that took away the naivety that you used to cling to. You have always been sweet but Theo was the reason that you became a little jaded when it came to falling in love with someone again.

You kept that a fantasy for your fictional men. Men who cannot disappoint, who cannot hurt, who cannot lie and make you feel like you’ve made a mistake for entrusting your heart to them.

“Hello, Sugar.” Theo grins in that way that would make any woman drop to their knees. He’s always been good at that, using his sex appeal, his looks to get what he wants and it’s one of the reasons you ended up in the situation you did.

Stalking closer, each step towards you making your heart race faster, until he’s standing in front of you, Theo watches your reactions with amusement. He can see your pulse fluttering against the skin of your neck, smell the anger mix with fear as you look up at him with contempt in your eyes. All of this causes him to chuckle as he leans closer. “Thought you’d take a little longer than this to get over me, sweetheart.”

His words have you lashing out, slapping him before moving away to avoid any form of retaliation. “It didn’t take me long to get over you when I realised that you weren’t worth the pain and the tears. You weren’t worth the sleepless nights, the longing, or holding onto,” you spit out, having gotten off the bed and kept the furniture between them.

The man chuckles, his cheek red from where you had managed to connect, a solid hit, at least. Shaking his head, Theo stands up straight and looks you up and down with his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek, almost like he’s openly checking you out and admiring your fire. “I made you fierce, pretty. Who knew you would be such a turn on with a mouth like that?” Theo smirks darkly, eyes flashing gold before a sharp set of fangs start to grow before your eyes. “Here I thought I’d take you back, come and chase you down for one last hurrah but instead you went and got claimed by the very person I’ve been trying to kill.” His voice is deeper, more guttural than before and you can’t help the strong sense of fear rushing through you, “So, now I’ve got a different use for you. Sorry, Sugar, this will hurt you just as much as it did when I broke your heart.” His face drops and you know his guilt is false, a façade, just like everything else that he is. “Maybe more, if Minho’s recount is anything to go by.”

At the mention of his name, you look over at the other man, whose eyebrows furrow for a brief moment. There’s a flash of pain that rushes across otherwise unperturbed features. It’s like the mere mention of whatever hurt him is enough to bring it to the surface only for him to bury it deep once more. “You going to evil villain monologue or are we going to send word to the Alpha that we have his mate?” Minho’s tone gives a clear indication that Theo and him are not friends.

Suddenly in front of you, Theo reaches forward quickly, catching you by surprise and forces you to look at him. There’s an amused glint in his eyes, enjoying the way you struggle against his hold. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, maybe I should play with her for a little bit before letting him know.” He can hear the way your heart races faster, the smell of fear growing stronger as you begin to think about what he could mean by that. “I’m a beast, not a monster, Sugar. I’m just saying we should catch up before Chris comes and fights for you.”

“Stop talking like that. He’s got no reason to come.” It hurts to talk, the way he’s holding your jaw is tight and makes it hard to move in any way he doesn’t allow. “I told him to leave me alone. If you have issues with him then maybe you should take it up with him instead of kidnapping me.”

A small scoff sounds from Minho as he walks over and pulls at the collar of your shirt, revealing the mark that Chris had left behind earlier. It still aches slightly, not as much as you thought it would have considering the size and how deep his teeth seemed to go, but it mostly tingles more than anything else. “It doesn’t matter what you said to him, Sugar. Werewolves are loyal to their mates, their bond is stronger than anything you could possibly imagine. No matter how much you want to deny it – there will never be anyone who will love you the way Chris will.”

Isn’t that something you always wanted? You wanted to be loved like the books you read. You want someone to be so obsessed with you that they cannot think straight when you’re not around, as toxic as that sounds. You have always wondered what it would be like to have someone who would do everything for you, that would care for you if you couldn’t care for yourself, who would pull you away from life if it was getting too much, someone who would know you so well that you’d never have to ask – they’d just do it because they could see it on your face. Those are standards that only your books can live up to because no man will ever be that perfect – especially when he’s done and said the things Chris has. How could you possibly believe what Minho is saying when Chris called you a mistake… though, he did say that doing so was a mistake… but that’s not the point, is it? It’s the fact that he still said it and if he can say something like that, what else can he say that he’ll end up regretting?

You don’t know if you can even allow yourself to let him close enough to see whether they are telling you the truth or not.

Seemingly bored with you, Theo gives you one more look over, darkness shrouding his face as the sun begins to sink – or you think it does – before turning on his heel and leaving the room. Minho takes a little longer to leave you, giving you a hoodie to put on so that you don't get cold, and without another word, he follows after. They leave you alone once more, in a place you don't know and with two people who you clearly don't know even though you thought you did.

Guess it’s true what they say; you really don’t know the people around you.

Wrapping yourself up, knees pulled up to your chest with your arms holding them close, you tucks your chin into your chest and rests your forehead against your knees, tears starting to silently trickle down your cheeks. You don't know what will happen to you. There’s no guarantee that you’ll get out of here alive… no, you need to keep hoping that you’ll be okay. They don’t want you. They want Chris. Maybe if they get what they want then they’ll let you go… maybe…

“Why did this have to happen to me?”

Laying on his bed, shirtless, with one hand resting on his abdomen and the other behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling, Chris feels tension and anxiety rush through his body. He’s been feeling that way for a while now, ever since he left your place, he’s been feeling off and he can’t quite figure out why. He had gone over to try and make things right… again, only to be told that she had gone out with her friend and hasn’t been back since. It makes sense that this piece of information was shared only to have Chris leave the premises because her sister doesn’t like him. It’s obvious Serena doesn’t and he doesn’t blame her. He’s given her no reason to like him but it doesn’t take away the anxiousness that’s got him on edge.

The Alpha has put it down to the fact that he left her while she was mad, knowing he should have stayed and made her understand that he wouldn’t hurt her again, that she was safe with him. He shouldn’t have left. She didn’t want him there and it wasn’t going to do them any good if he stayed while she was adamant she didn’t want to look at him but he should have done more than just walk out that door feeling good about himself.

God, he’s terrible at this.

Groaning, Chris runs a hand over his face in frustration. He needs to see her, needs to get rid of this anxious feeling so that he can rest before figuring out what to do with Minho and his group of rogues. Not a pack, he refuses to acknowledge them as such, just a group of outcasts who are not wanted by anyone.

Almost anyone. Fuck sakes, why did she have to like him? That’s only complicating an already complicated matter.

Chris doesn’t want to hurt Minho, he doesn’t want to have to go down that route if he doesn’t have to. It’s already hard enough when the rogue used to be a part of his pack, his beta, fuck, more than that, Minho was his best friend; add in the fact that she is attached to him now as well, it makes Chris’ head hurt just thinking about how he’s going to go about this. Minho challenged him, he’s wormed his way into his mate’s life and has been pushing all of Chris’ buttons ever since he stepped back onto the territory – there’s no way that this is going to go down well when there’s only two ways that the challenge can end.

Either he wins or Minho backs out.

Will she understand that? God, this is much more complicated when he has to think about how this is going to affect her. It was easier when he only had to think about what he wanted, what he felt and how things were going to affect him and his pack, now he has to take someone else into consideration – someone who isn’t like him. “Fuck.” Chris feels a headache building right behind his eyes. It’s been creeping up on him for a while now, it’s been lingering there, manageable until he started to think about the whole mess that he’s in.

His phone sounds on the bedside table, the vibration sounding sharper than usual with the impending ache in his skull. Yeah, it’s going to be a doozy. Reaching over and turning his head to see the name on the screen, a sign that he would ignore it if he could, Chris’ brow furrows when he doesn’t recognise the number. He’s saved everyone who needs his number, he even has her number saved on his phone, nobody outside the pack has his number so…

[TEXT] <- Who is this?

He responds to the ominous ‘hi’ and watches as the three dots start and stop multiple times. His jaw clenches, an obvious indicator that he’s annoyed, as he watches the dots disappear once more. “Oh, for fuck sakes.” He grumbles, starting to type a message about where he thinks they can take their bullshit before a picture comes through. A picture that has fingers freezing over the letters. A picture that sends him into a state.

It’s a picture of her, with her back to the camera, curled up in the foetal position on a disgusting and thin mattress, wearing a hoodie that’s bigger than her. There’s no sign about where she is, no indication of who has her until a message comes through that answers the question he was just about to ask.

[TEXT] -> Long time, no see, Chris. I heard you like my scraps. I saw the mark you left on her, man, didn’t think you were the type.

He can almost hear the laughter through the message, a way of mocking him, pushing his buttons.

[TEXT] -> If I had known Sugar was going to be an Alpha’s mate, I wouldn’t have broken her heart back in college.

[TEXT] -> But maybe I’ll have you watch me snap her neck instead.

Chris nearly crushes the phone in his hand, teeth clenching so tightly his jaw is hurting but he doesn’t take away the only chance he has at finding out where she is. Who knows what that sicko could do to her if he doesn’t respond.

[TEXT] <- You lay another hand on her and I’ll show you first hand what I did to your brother.

Uncalled for, maybe, but Chris knows that the only way to deal with this type of rogue is to show no fear and give back just as volatile as they give it. There is only one person who would have a death wish to do all of this and Minho’s participation in this whole bullshit challenge makes more sense considering the former beta never cared for power – nor to come back to a pack. He made that clear when he left so it never made any sense why he would challenge Chris in the first place but now… now it all makes sense.

Clearly his words hit a nerve when another picture comes through, a clawed hand gripping her chin and making her look at the camera. Her glare at who is on the other side of the camera makes him proud, she’s showing him no fear; in fact, he knows that look all too well considering that she’s given him that same look of disdain before but there’s more to it – she hates this person. Truly. Deeply. Chris can see it in her eyes. If Theo is telling him the truth then he’s the reason why she came here in the first place.

Maybe before killing him, Chris should thank Theo for bringing his mate to him.

[TEXT] -> Hurry, Alpha. I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to bury my teeth into that pretty throat of hers.

An address is sent through and Chris drops the phone, quickly grabbing his keys before anyone can question what he’s doing or where he’s going. He shouldn’t leave like this, he should make sure that they are aware that their Alpha is going to war but this is his battle to fight. It shouldn’t be like that, he shouldn’t be thinking about it as if he needs to face this alone because there’s no guarantee on how safe she will be if Chris turns up with some of the pack and that’s all he can think about right now.

He cannot risk Theo actually hurting her. He will not do anything to risk her life.

“He’s on his way,” Theo says once he gets a short reply from Chris, throwing the phone to Minho and then looking at you with a cruel smile. They had left you alone for a short while to discuss their evil plan, probably, before deciding to use you as a way to push buttons. “Looks like you actually mean something to him after all.” It’s like he’s mocking you but there’s an undertone of jealousy. You remember how things were when you first started dating, how Theo was so loving and sweet, how you were happy until something happened in his family that caused your once funny and caring boyfriend to turn cold.

You watch him walk out, leaving you alone with Minho once more, and the other wolf sighs as he looks at you. There’s this expression of him wanting to say something, and for the first time that you have known him, he looks almost sorry but when he opens his mouth, you shake your head. “I don’t want to hear it.” Minho closes his mouth again and nods his head before taking his leave, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the gripping fear that has now decided to kick in.

Whatever they have planned, it’s not good. Whatever they have planned, it’s going to hurt Chris, hurt you… maybe, are they planning on killing you both? You hug your knees to your chest again, chin resting on the top as you stare at the boarded up windows and wonder if you should wait. That’s what they always do in the fairytales, right? The princess waits in her tower for her knight in shining armour to come and save her but this isn’t a fairytale. There is no dragon that can be slain and no happily ever after in sight – it’s just Chris on his way to a battle that he cannot win.

Not alone at least.

Stiffening your bottom lip, you refuse to be kept down like Theo did once before. You won’t let him win this time, especially not when your life could literally depend on Chris actually surviving. “There’s got to be something…” you mutter to yourself, climbing off the bed and making your way around the room.

“Come…on.” You grab one of the boards covering the windows and give it a pull with all of your might, gritting your teeth before falling back on your backside with a low ‘oof’ escaping you due to the impact. You look up at the boards again and huffs before turning over and standing up, eyes searching for something that you can use as a leverage. Something that can fit between the small gaps and be used to help pry at least one off. All you need is to see where you are, to know whether you have a chance for escape.

Upon your investigation of the room, you notice one of the metal bars from the bed is broken, almost rusted off and looks over at the door, waiting for someone to walk through to shut you up, before making your way over and deciding that kicking it may be the best way to loosen it. You’re not built for an action movie, you would say you’re more romance-fitting but what are you going to do? Sit around, wait, die? It’s not exactly a fun sounding plan to you.

CLINK! You wince as the arch of your foot meets the metal frame and look over at the door again, pausing, making sure it’s safe before continuing. CLINK! CLINK! CLUNK– Oh, how they make this look so much easier in the movies than it actually is but after a few more painfully solid kicks, you manage to break through and loudly receive your prize.

It’s either someone isn’t within earshot or they really couldn’t care less about you trying to escape because there really is no way out. Either way, you rush over to the window and try to use your thin, broken metal bar to get one of the boards off – which you do manage to do. Though, not without a lot of huffing, a couple of cuts from the sharp, bent metal, and some swearing about how much you hate men at this point.

While the gap isn’t big enough for you to be able to sneak out of the window, or even get it open, it is enough for you to peer out and see that wherever you are – it’s isolated. Completely. Unless you’re at the back of the house, you cannot see a road or anything else around you… except trees and…

People? No, wolves?

Emerging from the forest, several wolves of different colourings and sizes stalk out from the dark and that’s when you realise that this is an ambush. Unless Chris is bringing a group with him, he’s going to be severely outnumbered and you don't know if you can watch that. No, you know that you can’t watch that.

Panic begins to set in, for yourself, for him, for this entirely shitty situation you both are in, and the room starts to spin as you feel her chest tightening, making it harder to breathe. You know you have to breathe, in and out, nice and slow but you can’t. There are too many thoughts running through your mind, too many things coming and hitting you while in a vulnerable state that makes the severity of the situation feel like it’s trying to swallow you whole. You want to chalk up everything that Theo is doing as some dramatic shit that is becoming borderline insane but with what she saw outside, the way his eyes glowed and every other small detail about Minho and… Chris, it’s like the truth is trying to force you to see what you refuse to see.

Glowing eyes, fangs, the fact that both Chris and Minho’s body heat reminds you of walking heaters, the mark that never fully healed and reminds you of Chris, his possessiveness, the aggression that you put down to male testosterone, comments Minho would make, how he had not wanted to be too close to you when she met up with him after being with Chris, the growling you had thought was sexy and primal, and how you’re drawn to Chris in a way you cannot explain.

Werewolves are real. Maybe. You still highly doubt their existence, not wanting to believe it just because you can list a few strange things about several people you know. Believing it means accepting that they are real and if they are real then… What else could possibly be out there? Even though the distant growls coming from outside the house should be the biggest indicator for you to believe in the supernatural, the only thing that is clear to you right now as you clutches your chest and your vision turns black – is that Chris is in danger if he comes here.

The car tires screech as Chris takes the corner too quickly. It’s a good thing that Theo has chosen a place that’s out of the township – otherwise he’d be having issues. His jaw hurts from how hard he’s clenching as her panic rushes through him and causes him to almost lose control of the speeding vehicle. He knows it’s your emotions and not his own because all he feels right now is pure rage.

Of course she’d be afraid, it would be stupid to not be in fear for her life when she’s in this dire situation. He tried to warn her about what could happen but she didn’t believe him. He tried to talk to her and work things out but he had lost any and all credibility with her because of the way he’s been treating her so why would she listen? Why would you believe him because all Chris’ done is give her reasons to not want to be around him? He can’t even blame her, as much as he wants to, he can’t blame her for not giving him the time of day.

Fuck, he hates that Felix had a point. Of course he did, there’s a reason why he’s the one Chris can talk to because despite everything – Felix isn’t as fucking stubborn and bull-headed like he can be. A great Alpha, Chris knows this about himself, there is no doubt about that in his mind but as a man? Oh, he has no experience at all, clearly, because he’s really put himself in a mess. “Goddammit.” Chris slams his fist against the wheel as he approaches the location.

A rundown house on the edge of the pack territory, one that has been abandoned due to what had happened to the family that once lived there. Of course Theo chose this place – it’s where Chris killed his brother.

What would his pack do if they found out that their Alpha went and put himself in harm’s way like this? What would they say if they knew that he went charging into this head first without even working out a plan beforehand? How can they continue to trust their Alpha if he goes against his own rule of thinking with a clear head before acting?

The car skids to a halt on the gravel, Chris having slammed on his brakes and pulled over to the side so that he could pull out his phone. He needs to contact Felix and have the pack by his side if he’s going to save his mate – he can’t do this alone.

“Fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back against the head rest, “I fucking left it at home.”

A cruel grin spreads across Theo’s lips as he hears the car pulling up the driveway, looking out the window to see the unmistakable black sedan that belongs to Chris coming to a stop in front of the house. The wolf rolls his neck, feeling the satisfying cracks as he does so, before turning to Minho, who is now standing to attention at noticing his former Alpha’s arrival. “Go and get her.”

Minho’s upper lip curls upwards as he heads over to the bedroom because who the fuck died and made him king? Sure, he’s the mastermind behind it all but Minho doesn’t answer to him and is only here because it benefits him. The emptiness that sits within his chest, the place in his heart and mind where his mate’s presence used to reside, it’s the only reason that he even agreed to Theo’s plan in the first place. There’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t miss his mate. There’s not a moment that doesn’t remind him that he could have been living like every mated wolf should be. When he sees a couple smiling lovingly at each other, when he hears the laughter of children, everytime Minho sees anyone living a life filled with love – he’s reminded about what he no longer has.

It’s his justification on why he’s helping Theo, even if he mildly regrets the person he’s hurt in his goal to show Chris what it’s like to lose everything you hold dear.

Walking down the hallway, it’s not until he hears the erratic heartbeat coming from the locked room that he’s brought back out of his thoughts and back to the task at hand. “Hey!” he calls out as the door is thrown open and he finds her against the wall, holding her chest as she struggles to breathe. Tears fall freely down her face as she tries to sob, every breath a pathetic gasp for air, and all Minho can think as he rushes to help her is how she shouldn’t be here.

Even after just thinking about his mate and how this will ease his guilt, she shouldn’t be caught up in this. Fuck, why did it have to be her?

Getting her to look at him, Minho tries to speak to her but his words are not registering as she remains locked in place, the panic attack having a tight hold over her and refusing to let go. “You need to breathe, Sugar. Come on, breathe for me.” He shakes her shoulders, getting her to take a deep breath in as she looks at him. “Yeah, yeah, like that. Atta girl, keep going,” Minho breathes with her before pulling her into him to keep her close but the moment he does – she pushes against him.

“...Away…” she barely manages to get the word out as her weak arms try to shove him away. “Don’t– don’t touch me.” She hits his chest with a closed fist in her attempt to get him away, her body instinctively trying to get away from him as if he’s the threat to her and why would she think otherwise? He’s the reason she’s here in the first place. “This is all your fault. You did this.”

The way she’s looking at him triggers a memory, the sound of her broken voice accusing him resonates in his mind and brings forth what happened before his mate was killed. Minho provoked the wolf who had killed his mate; he was being too cocky for his own good and thought he could get away with pissing off the beta simply because of Chris’ reputation as an Alpha. Minho had been warned about picking fights, the words falling on deaf ears because the pack had crossed into Chris’ territory and demanded to see him. They had been behaving like they were at home and were pushing everyone’s buttons so Minho had decided to take it upon himself and sort it out. It was his fault when the wolf lunged at him and his mate, the other not getting away fast enough and falling victim to an anger-fuelled wolf. Her ghost haunted him for months afterwards, asking him why, why didn’t he just leave it alone, why did he need to pick a fight, why didn't he save her?

He blames Chris for something that was his fault to begin with because he’s too ashamed to admit that his arrogance killed his mate. Minho knows that his grudge against the Alpha stems from his own self-loathing but if he hates himself then doesn’t that mean he has to accept what he did?

Doesn’t that mean he has to admit that what happened was purely because of him?

“I know,” he says quietly, letting her escape from his hold and sighing quietly. Maybe the reason why he became attached to her in the first place is because she reminds him so much of his mate. Her smile, her laugh, and the way her nose wrinkles when she’s trying to focus, these are only a few things that brought back fond memories of the mate Minho had lost. Somewhere along the way, Minho had stopped caring about his revenge and enjoyed the idea that maybe, in some twisted way, he could have her back in some kind of way.

The only problem is Chris… or maybe the realisation that she will never truly be his.

“I’m sorry, Sugar.” He looks at her, his heart falling as he sees the disdain in her eyes. “I really fucked up this time.” Maybe he can fix things – he just needs to figure out how.

“Oh, if she thinks that Minho is a monster for the things that he’s done, I wonder what she’ll think if she knew what Alpha Chris did,” Theo speaks, chuckling as he turns his attention to the Alpha who stands in the doorway, eyes black and swimming with murderous intent. “Should we tell her how we know each other?” Both wolves stare at each other, the space filled with the deep, low growl emitting from Chris’ chest as he bares his teeth at the rogue. “I think she’d be interested in knowing who she’s mated to.”

Gritting his teeth, Chris tries to keep himself in check. “Leave her out of this. This is between you and me.”

A short laugh sounds loudly as Theo shakes his head. “No but that’s the thing, she’s the star of the show, Chris. If it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t be here. She ties everything together nicely because even if you somehow manage to survive this – you’ll lose the one person you will grow to love more than yourself and your pack. One way or another, you will lose.” The look on Theo’s face makes it clear that he knows he has Chris backed into a corner with no way out. He has been planning this for such a long time, watching and waiting to find a weakness that he could exploit only to be basically handed the most wonderful gift in the form of his ex.

If only he had known back then, he would have been able to get this started sooner but oh well, he’ll get what he wants. All that waiting will be worth it once he sees Chris’ defeated body on his knees, waiting for the final blow.

The blow he’ll be the one to deliver.

Minho’s grip on your bicep isn’t rough, he’s barely even touching you, it’s mostly just guiding you towards the room where the other two wolves are standing, the conversation they were having seemingly interrupted by your presence. “Here’s the lady of the hour, our sweet little Sugar.” Theo’s words drip with sarcasm as he holds out his hand, you scoff and fold your arms as you step away from Minho and out of Theo’s reach. “Oof, so cold, baby.”

You don’t speak, don't even look at him as your eyes drift over to see Chris staring at you. His dark eyes are swimming with more emotion than his face displays and it’s betraying him. Not only can you see that he’s concerned, scared even, about what Theo has planned – Theo knows it as well.

Is it true that when it comes to you, Chris isn’t as strong as he likes to portray himself? You don’t believe it because everything about him is pure asshole but is he really as bad as he’s allowed you to think this whole time? He’s here, isn’t he? He’s here because of you. Chris has risked himself to save you and that thought has the blood draining from your face as the image of the wolves from earlier comes back.

“Chris, they–” Minho claps a hand over your mouth, your warning muffled as you try to pull away. His palm is sweaty, a sign of his own anxiousness about the situation, but you don’t think too much about it as your tongue lathers his skin in saliva. Your eyes scrunch up at the taste and you can tell Minho isn’t exactly a fan of it but he holds you tight, gritting his teeth, trying to keep you still without using too much strength and risking hurting you.

Twisting and writhing in his hold, you manage to open your mouth wide enough to bite down on his slipping hand but you don't hold back like Minho had. “Ah– FUCK!” he shouts as your teeth manage to break skin and in shock, you’re shoved away while Minho shakes his hand to try and soothe the pain. “Fucking hell, Sugar, you bit me!”

Ironic that the human is the one biting the dogs but you don't answer him, instead looking at Chris, making sure he’s listening to every word of your warning. “It’s an ambush! There are wolves everywhere!”

There’s a growl and things happen so quickly that you don’t have a chance to react. Theo grabs you by the back of your head, pulling you back by your hair, out of an approaching Chris’ reach and the next thing you know – a clawed hand is wrapped around your throat and you’re pulled against his firm and familiar body. “C’mon, Sugar, did you really have to go and ruin the surprise like that? You used to love surprises so why can’t you let Chris have the fun this time?”

Swallowing, you can feel the claws pressing a little closer as your Adam’s apple bobs and alarm bells sound in your head that you shouldn’t piss off the… man… who has your life in his hands. Literally. One wrong move and he could rip your throat out which is not a way you had ever thought that you would die – old age was definitely at the top of that list. Death by werewolf was not. “You–,” the sharp claws has your bravery faltering for a moment, “your surprises… they aren’t exactly the fun kind…”

Theo barks out a laugh, nodding his head before pressing his nose to the side of your head, eyes on Chris as he inhales deeply and lets out a satisfied sigh. “You’re right. My idea of a surprise definitely isn’t the same kind as yours, Sugar. Though, they couldn’t have been that bad – you stayed after all.” He doesn’t allow you to answer, the points of his claws pressing against the soft skin and giving you pause. “Actually, speaking of our relationship.” Nobody is but he uses it as a way to segue. “Do you think it bothers Chris to know that while he was killing my brother, ripping his throat out, we were wrapped up in our own little world?”

Your eyes widen as you focus on the man across from you, his lips curled into a snarl as a deep warning growl sounds through the room. While you had never met Theo’s brother, you remember the day when your ex-boyfriend had received the call and how it changed everything about him; any good quality that you had seen in Theo faded quickly and he became someone you didn’t know. The aggression was something that had surprised you, never once had he yelled at you but then it was like everything, every little thing you said or did started to become a problem.

Too loud, too bright, too happy, too talkative, too much.

Of course, it should have been your reason to leave but you did indeed stay. You stayed because Theo was hurting and you thought maybe, just maybe, if you stayed and supported him through it – he’ll go back to the man you loved. Except, he didn’t. In fact, he got worse, angrier, his temper grew shorter and somewhere along the lines – the women started to come into play. At first, you thought it was one, the one that destroyed your relationship but later you learned that no, it was women, plural.

As Theo’s nose moves down, your skin crawls, feeling his hot breath against your skin as he reaches the dark mark on your neck. Fear rushes through you with a hint of rage as Theo’s lips press against the mark, a cruel smile etched onto his face as Chris steps forward only for Minho to step in between them and prevent Chris from reaching you.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Chris commands but it falls on deaf ears – or ears that are no longer needing to obey him.

Minho shakes his head and barely manages to keep Chris in place as he needs to steady his footing against the stronger wolf. “He’ll kill her before you even reach them.”

“You better listen to him, Alpha Chris. If anyone knows the pain of losing their mate, it’s Minho, so he knows what he’s talking about.” Your eyes widened because you didn’t know that Minho had gone through something that apparently destroys a werewolf. “Though, personally, I think it’s rather poetic for you to lose your mate in the same way you killed my brother.” While you knew it already, it’s not like they were hiding it or that you’re stupid, his words simply confirmed that this is all about revenge for them. They didn’t care about you… well, Theo definitely didn’t care about you, they just care about hurting Chris.

Refusing to keep being a pawn in their game, you try to focus on what you can do to get out of this. You need to. Not only do you not want to die because of some stupid grudge that they all have against each other but you don't want to be killed by Theo of all people. God, you wouldn’t forgive yourself if the man who shattered your heart in so many ways was the one who ended your life. With a deep breath in and closing your eyes, you steel yourself for pain as you throw your elbow back and get Theo right in the solar plexus, catching him off-guard enough to let you go.

Not without scratching you though.

“You little bitch,” he growls, rushing to grab you again but you manage to escape his grip this time – barely. “You need to stop fucking doing that.”

Minho doesn’t stop you from getting to Chris, who immediately makes sure that you’re behind him, however, Minho does keep Theo from reaching you. “Are you okay?” Chris asks as you raise a hand to your neck and touch the cut on your throat.

“I’ll be okay,” you whisper, wincing as the pain starts to radiate through your body. It��s not deep, luckily, but it hurts a lot – like a cat scratch.

To your surprise, her ‘friend’ manages to push Theo backwards with enough force to cause him to stumble slightly. The room is suddenly quiet, tensions so high that it causes your body to feel on edge as you stare at the back of Minho’s head. You can’t see his face but you know him well enough, or think you do, to know the look on his face. Conflict, pain and from the low growl that starts to grow louder, anger would all be prominent in those deep brown eyes as he chooses to betray the other rogue wolf in favour of you.

A human.

“You got soft on her and decided that avenging your dead mate isn’t worth it anymore?” Theo barks out a laugh in disbelief, shaking his head as his eyes glow faintly with a golden hue that you would have found gorgeous… if it wasn’t Theo. “A fool but you wouldn’t be the first to have fallen to her like that. You have a way of pulling people in, don’t you Sugar? A sweet little thing who can charm everyone around you with just a fucking smile.” You can feel Chris’ hand reaching to rest on your side, making sure you stay behind him. He’s silent, though there’s this hostility rushing through him that has your own body on edge and making you feel like you want to go and fight Theo yourself but Chris is not growling. Not reacting.

He’s completely in control of himself, which is surprising considering the situation but it’s like the shift in Minho’s alliances has allowed him to think clearer.

Theo doesn’t seem like he’s done talking, but then again, he’s always liked talking to anyone who would listen to him. You forgot that this man loves the sound of his own voice. “She’s mated to your former Alpha and you went rogue from his pack, how do you think that will work? She cannot replace your mate, no matter how similar they are.”

“You do not get to speak about Jisoo.” Something about the way Minho says the woman’s name shows you that he hasn’t said it in a long time, like it physically kills him inside to mention her out loud like that.

Clicking his tongue, Theo rolls his eyes before meeting your gaze. A cruel smirk spreads across his lips as if a brilliant idea has just popped up that could get him everything that he’s ever wanted. “If this is the fate that you’ve chosen then you can’t say I’m not generous enough to provide it.” He whistles loudly and a chorus of howls answer him, reminding you of the literal waiting wolves just outside the abandoned house. “I wanted theatrics. I wanted to make it like you, Sugar, but I guess the phrase is ‘revenge is best served cold’, not sweet.” A manic laugh escapes him at his terrible joke and it sends a shiver down your spine as you understand what he’s getting at. “As long as the job gets done – who cares how it’s done, right?”

It’s almost like it was planned. The window shatters as a wolf leaps through and lunges at you while more burst through the door, not caring about who they attack – as long as they get their teeth into someone. Chris barely manages to get you out of the way of the lunging wolf, his arm out and caught in the open jaws of the beast; the grunt Chris lets out as teeth tear into flesh has your stomach turning before Minho grabs your wrist and pulls your attention away from Chris.

“Sugar, focus,” he says desperately. You don’t know what he’s talking about until pain spreads through your body and you all but collapse to the floor, face contorted in anguish. “Listen, we don’t have time so you need to focus on something else. Don’t think about Chris.” Minho picks you up and shakes you, trying to get your attention off of what is happening. “Think about getting the fuck out of here.”

You hear Chris shouting your name, managing to dodge another wolf that’s aiming for him before looking over at you and meeting your wide eyes filled with worry and fear. “GO!” he commands and Minho tugs you with him towards the bedroom since there is no open exit in the open living room with the wolves nearly taking up all the space. There’s a bark before a wolf yelps and you try to resist the curiosity that has you looking over your shoulder but you need to make sure that Chris is okay. You gasp at the sight; a wolf lays on the ground, neck at an odd angle and mouth open, lifeless eyes stare at the ceiling as the other wolves rush over it to try and get at Chris.

He’s killing them. Chris is killing the wolves and while you know it logically makes sense for him to not hold back – something inside you breaks knowing that. They will do worse to him, to you, if he doesn’t end their lives first but… doesn’t it hurt to kill his own kind?

“Chris hates taking lives,” Minho answers your unspoken question like he had read your mind and pulls you behind him, just in time to defend against a large grey wolf that has broken away from the others to go after you. “Killing our own kind shatters something inside us, even if it’s necessary.” Managing to grab the attacking wolf by its snout, Minho grits his teeth while you slowly stagger back, entering your former make-shift cell.

Minho looks over his shoulder and even though their eyes meet for a wordless split second before he turns away, you know that he’s giving you permission to save yourself. Slamming the door shut, you rush towards the bed and hope that the metal frame doesn’t mean you won’t be able to move it. “This can’t be happening,” you say to yourself, grunting as you pull the bed with all your might, the metal feet scraping loudly against the wooden floor almost overpowered by the chaos on the other side of the door. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Everything happened so quickly but it also felt like everything happened in slow motion. A contradiction because your brain is trying to process everything but your body is reacting quicker than you can understand. One minute you’re in Theo’s clutches, the scratch on your neck faintly throbbing in reminder, and then the next thing you know – you’re locked in a room with absolutely no means to escape or survive. If someone breaks through the door, you’re fucked and you are not delusional enough to think that you can actually take on a werewolf. However, as you listen to the fighting outside, the howling and growling, the cries of pain as Chris and Minho are greatly overpowered, everything comes in slowly.

Chris came for you. Minho protected you. Werewolves are real. You are all going to die.

“This is just a bad dream,” you crouch in a corner, trying to make yourself as small as possible as you stare at the door. “This has to be a bad dream.”

Due to the small space, the wolves are unable to attack all at once without getting in the way of each other and while that does work to Chris’ advantage, it also prevents him from being able to shift.

Blood drips to the floor, his wounds healing slower than usual due to not shifting but it doesn’t slow him down as he throws a small brown wolf at another, knocking them both out. It’s a struggle not trying to kill too many of them, a lot of them were probably being offered something in exchange for trying to take out the Alpha so he doesn’t want to blame them for being suckered into Theo’s game. To Theo, they are disposable, pawns in a game of chess to level the playing field because the spineless coward knows that he could never win a one-on-one fight with Chris.

As he’s trying to keep himself from being cornered, Chris notices Minho entering the room, rushing into the pack of wolves to help him out. “She’s in the room,” the former beta grunts as he pulls a wolf by its tail and Chris allows himself a second to feel relieved that she’s safe before stepping back and finding his back against the wall.

Even with Minho’s help, Chris cannot keep taking on the onslaught. Every time he removes one from the fight, another steps up to take its place and while none of them are trying to actively kill him, they are trying to wear him down at least. He assumes it’s because Theo wants to have the honours of killing the Alpha and needs him weak to do so.

As Chris thought, a fucking coward.

“You’re holding back, Chris. C’mon, where is that Alpha energy?” Theo laughs, leaning against the wall, watching the fight as if it’s some sport on TV. His eyes are swimming with excitement as he watches them try and fend off attack after attack. Theo must have imagined it to be like this otherwise he wouldn’t look like he’s about to get the gift of a lifetime; he must have anticipated the metallic scent of blood that fills the air, the floor littered with lifeless bodies and the disturbing sounds echoing as they tear a weaker wolf apart. This must be everything he has ever wanted since it’s bringing him closer to his goal.

Theo knows that if they could shift, they’d be deadlier especially with their size and teeth. Lucky for him, they barely have time to shift, or even partially shift because that means their strength is limited. It’s why he made sure that they were ambushed inside the house because even if many of these wolves die – Chris cannot access his full strength. Werewolves in their human form are still unnaturally strong and possess heightened senses but they aren’t at their best – something to do with not being connected with the wolf inside them like this. Chris is still strong due to being an Alpha and Minho used to be one of the pack’s best fighters but without shifting, they won’t be able to take on the numbers for much longer and come out on top.

Grabbing a wolf by its snout and jaw, Chris howls loudly, his eyes glowing a deep gold as he forcefully removes the mandible. Blood splatters across his face as he bares his fangs and raises the dislocated jaw above his head as he looks at Theo, letting out a primal growl. He’s not warning him anymore, Chris is threatening that this will be his fate and by the way Theo’s smirk falters – he’s having a moment of doubt. He had assumed that Chris would have fallen by now, that the Alpha would be on his knees and in the palm of his hands but from the murderous look in his eyes, Theo realises that all he’s done is piss Chris off.

He’s underestimated the Alpha and there’s always a price to pay for that.

“You can’t beat them all!” Theo yells, hesitantly stepping back as Chris tears out another wolf’s throat with his bare hands. The growing brutality of Chris’ actions cause some of the wolves to rethink their actions about attacking him; while a lot of them knew that this would be a suicide mission, they didn’t think Chris would take out as many of them as he has been – or possess the strength that he does. Their expectations about the fight do not match with the current outcome and some begin to wonder if they should continue. “You won’t be able to–” Howling sounds from outside the house and causes Theo to trail off and for the first time since all of this started, fear makes its way onto his features.

Before the rogues know what’s happening, pack wolves make their way into the house to begin chasing them off or retaliating against their attacks on the Alpha. Chris doesn’t know how Felix managed to find him but right now, he’s more determined to make sure this ends once and for all as Theo tries to use the commotion as a cover to escape.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Chris yells, taking after the retreating rogue while those who had held allegiance to Theo are overwhelmed by the cavalry that has arrived. Power rushes through him as he begins to shift, the change happening quickly and by the time he’s made it outside, Chris is a large black wolf hunting down his prey.

He’s faster than Theo, larger and due to his training, he’s more in control than the rogue which helps him catch up to the fleeing wolf and tackle him to the ground. Pinning the brown wolf down, Chris growls, snapping his jaws before aiming for his throat, determined to finish this fight in the only way that will make sure it won’t happen again. If Theo wanted this to be poetic then Chris will make sure he gets what he wants by killing him in the same way and place that he had killed his brother.

He vividly remembers that day, it’s not a day that he allows himself to forget because it was the day that Chris had come back to the pack. After taking the time to grow, to become a wolf who could lead and a man who had some life experience, Chris had come back to find out that a rogue was accepted onto the pack’s territory. Theo may not have known that his brother had left their pack, maybe the wolf never truly left and had used it as a guise but whatever the specifics of it was, his goal of being there was to try and take on Chris.

All because his brother wanted Chris’ status and power.

Maybe it’s because Theo and his older brother were outsiders even in their own pack, neither of them holding any respect and power within the hierarchy and he was sick of being at the bottom. Maybe his brother thought that they deserved to be higher in the ranks but because they were sons of the Alpha who were born to an outsider, they were never going to go anywhere. Chris remembers hearing about them, their existence caused quite a stir amongst the packs since it’s unusual for Alpha’s to have children with those who are not their mates. A tradition that stems from the formation of packs eons ago, a way to make sure that the future packs are stronger and blessed by the Moon Goddess – while not every Alpha has followed it, it’s more unusual than not.

While Chris knew better than to accept the challenge because it stemmed from jealousy and misplaced hatred, he still said yes. Even when they both knew what it could mean, Chris still accepted the challenge because he didn’t want to look weak in front of his pack.

Knowing what he knows now, Chris is aware that they wouldn’t have viewed him any different if he said that the challenge was stupid but that’s what hindsight is for, right?

Killing another wolf, regardless of whether they are a part of one’s pack or not, leaves a mark on the soul that makes one feel like they are tainted. Even if it is done with reason, even if it is because of a war or self-defence, it hurts to kill one of their own kind. Nobody knows why, nobody can pinpoint in history when this started to happen but the elders theorise it’s when humans started to hunt them, culling the packs down to dangerously low numbers that they had to go into hiding. Whatever the reason, watching the wolf’s life fade before his eyes and feeling that searing pain in his core changed Chris from that day on.

It’s why he couldn’t let Minho kill to avenge his mate because he didn’t want his beta to carry that burden – not realising that losing Jisoo was heavier.

Sharp teeth bite into flesh, the sound of tearing echoes in the silent field as Chris pulls back and feels the sense of deja vu rush through him. Theo doesn’t look that different from his late older brother and maybe in a different life, with different choices, they could have lived a long life instead of meeting the same gruesome end. Not that it matters now but Chris still mourns the death of one of his kind. Staring at the lifeless wolf, Chris feels a wave of sorrow rush over him because he didn’t want this to be the way it ended but he wasn’t given any other option when it became clear that Theo would never leave her alone if he were to survive this. Huffing as he shakes his head, Chris turns back towards the house before he stumbles, the weight of his own injuries taking over and causing him to collapse.

The last thought that runs through his mind as his world turns to black is her. Her smile, her laugh, the warmth she provides those around him and the gentle heart that beats inside her.

“Fuck. What have I done?…”

Your eyes are locked on the scene in front of you, your feet glued to the floor as the door is forced open and Minho pulls you into his arms. “Don’t look.” His words come too late as you already witnessed the large black wolf tearing out the throat of the smaller brown wolf like a predator killing his prey.

Your arms hang limp by your side as Minho’s hand rests on the back of your head and he tries to explain why Chris had to do what he did but the words fall on deaf ears. Everything you have been feeling suddenly fades, your body growing numb and your brain shutting down as your body goes into shock from everything that’s happened. You’re now questioning everything around you because the world that you once knew has been resorted to nothing more than a fairy tale from yesterday. It feels like you’ve aged several years in the span of a few hours and lost your innocence because of this.

“We need to get out of here, Sugar.” Minho picks you up with no resistance on your end. “Close your eyes and I’ll carry you out.” If you could hear the guilt in his voice then maybe you would know how much he blames himself for putting you in this position in the first place but right now, you cannot find it in your heart to care.

You cannot seem to care about anything right now. Not when he carries you through the room of fallen wolves, Chris’ pack cleaning up the mess wordlessly. Not when you see a couple of the pack rushing off in the direction where Chris and Theo were, shouting something you couldn’t comprehend to alert the others. Not even when Minho puts you in the car and tells you that he’ll take you home and leave you alone after this. “I’m sorry,” you hear him say but you don’t respond. You don't even know what you would say if you wanted to.

The only thing that seems to gain a reaction from you is when you look past Minho to see Felix and another member helping a naked Chris towards their car. His head bobs up and down slightly as they walk and even though you cannot see the full extent of his injuries, you know that he’s not in a good state.

“I want to see him.” You finally look up at Minho, his expression conflicted by your request but after a moment of deliberation, he concedes.

With a heavy sigh, he helps you out of the car and calls out to Felix. “Do you want to go back to the pack house with him?” Minho asks, his voice low so that you’re the only one who can hear him, “I can take you home. It might be bet–”

“No. I want to stay with him.” There are many emotions conflicting inside of you, so many thoughts running around your head and questions sitting on the tip of your tongue but everything can wait until after he’s okay. Right now, that is the most important thing to you; even if you want to curl up in bed, cry yourself to sleep and never leave your room ever again, you need to make sure Chris is okay. He sacrificed himself to save you, despite everything he’s said and done, he turned up knowing that he could die.

He nearly did die trying to save you.

You pick up the pace, wanting to be near him so that you can take in the damage yourself but Minho’s grip on your elbow stops you right before you can reach him. “Sugar.” You can hear the plea in his voice, the uncertainty about whether you could forgive him for what Minho did to you. Your face gives nothing away as he asks if they can talk later. “Give it some thought. You have my number, yeah?”

You hum, the sound neither a confirmation nor a decline, before making your way towards the opened door so you can slide into the car next to Chris, lifting his heavy head to rest on your lap. You can’t think about Minho right now, there is already too much on your plate for you to want to care about your friendship with him or at least, the lie of it, and whether you could ever get through this. How does one get past your supposed friend kidnapping you and offering you up to your psychotic ex-boyfriend over some weird revenge plan?

“He might not wake up for a while,” Felix’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you look down at the man resting on your lap, your fingers subconsciously playing through his damp hair. “We can drop you off whenever you want to go.”

Meeting his gaze, you nod slightly before looking back down at Chris. “Thank you,” your voice is as soft as your touch as you brush a lock of hair off his forehead.

As the car begins to move, the silence feels like a weight trying to suffocate you where you sit. You know you’re mad at Chris, you’re mad at Minho, you’re mad and sad and scared alongside nearly every other emotion you can name. You feel it all as you stare quietly out the window but yet, there is one thing that you feel above everything else.

Concern for Chris’ well-being.

It takes Chris several hours to wake up; several agonising hours of watching and waiting to see if he’ll open his eyes and show you that he’s okay. You spent that time pacing around his bedroom, occupying yourself by looking around his room and trying to learn more about him. Chris has several photo frames on display, various colourful stones sitting in a bowl that must have some kind of significant meaning to them, and a canine tooth on a leather necklace hanging from his mirror. Other than that, there is nothing that can give you some kind of deep insight into the mind of the Alpha.

Ironic since you were thinking of him as a stupid Alpha male this entire time. The macho type of man who demands that people listen to him and reverts to aggression when he doesn’t get his way. Who knew you wouldn’t be that far off on that?

Felix came up and gave you company now and again, offering to show you around the house only for you to kindly refuse because you didn’t want to miss out on him waking up. Though, if you had known that Chris was going to take this long, maybe you would have. Luckily, during this time, you had eaten, showered and changed your clothes in the master bedroom’s ensuite, plus you were able to contact Serena to let her know that you were going to be staying out for the night. Of course, there were follow up questions but right now, you didn’t want to deal with the judgement of your older sister especially when you had no clue how to explain where you’re at and why you’re there.

The digital clock on the bedside cabinet displays 02:12AM when you finally lay down on the king bed, facing a sleeping Chris. The bite and claw marks that littered his body earlier have mostly healed but he still hasn’t woken up. From what Felix had explained, he’s in this state because it’s easier to heal while unconscious and allowing their wolf to take over than when awake; it made no sense to you, if you were honest, but he guaranteed that Chris would wake up when he had healed enough and that’s what you held onto.

“I’m still mad at you,” you whisper without a hint of anger behind it, examining his resting face. You were surprised to learn that Chris hadn’t turned 30 yet, especially with the way he held himself and assuming his status, but like this – you can see it. Reaching over, you lightly trace a finger over his jaw line, feeling the prickle of his stubble under your fingertips, before pulling away. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Christopher, but right now… please just wake up…”

If you weren’t watching his face as closely as you were, you would have missed the way his lips twitch upwards, the ghost of a smile forming before gold eyes flutter open to meet yours. You gasp but don't say anything as you watch the gold begin to fade into a deep brown, almost dark enough to reflect your image in his eyes. “You’re here,” his voice is deep, quiet, and filled with emotion.

He’s surprised you came with him, let alone stayed until he woke up.

“I–” You’re about to tell him that you had to be here when he woke up so that you could demand answers about everything but it didn’t feel right to say that. Not right now, at least. “I was worried about you. You could have died, Chris.” As the words leave your lips, you feel their truth deep in your soul because while you want answers, while you deserve answers, you were worried about him. It terrified you to think that the both of you weren’t going to make it out of there; it wasn’t just you that you were thinking about in that moment – you were thinking about Chris too.

His hand reaches up to caress your face and it’s not until his thumb sweeps under your eye that you realise you’re crying. You don't know when you had started but now that you’re aware, you begin to give into the feelings that had been held back by the adrenaline and shock. Soft sobs pass through your lips and Chris wraps you up into his embrace, pulling you in and providing a safe place to cry. “I’m sorry,” Chris whispers into your hair and you squeeze your eyes shut as if that would stop the tears from flowing. “I’m so fucking sorry, Sugar.”

“What would have happened if you died?” you blubber, lifting your head to look up at him and take in his sorrowful expression. His expression conveys his guilt but he’s also hurting because of the pain that you’re feeling and what he’s put you through. “You… you could have.”

“I could have.” Chris nods, his voice soft and his hands gentle as they run over your back, trying to provide comfort. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t try to defend his actions or poke fun at you for crying about it because you survived, didn’t you? Chris allows you to feel the emotions without any of the jest or arrogance you have come to know.

Wiping the tears from your eyes and sniffling, you ask a question that you already know the answer to, “Why did you come?”

He lets out a soft chuckle, raising an eyebrow at you before his expression softens. Chris gently rests his forehead against yours, holding your gaze. “Because of you,” he answers simply. The weight of his words mixed with his quiet whisper sends a shiver down your spine.

“Why?” you ask, your voice just as quiet as his.

“You know why. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you.” Theo had done it before, would it have been any different this time?

You search Chris’ gaze and the intensity in his eyes makes you blurt out what is on your mind, “so, you killed him. Why?” It’s obvious why because Theo was a threat. Not only was he a threat to Chris and his pack but to you as well. You know this but that didn’t answer your question: did Chris need to kill him?

A moment passes and you know it’s because Chris is trying to figure out how to word his answer in a way that you’d understand.

“I would destroy the world if it posed a threat to you,” he says, his voice unwavering. “If a choice has to be made that has to do with you, I would always choose you. You are my mate, Sugar. You may not fully comprehend what that is but that means that you are the only reason I live.” Your cheeks heat up as your heart races and you have to break eye contact so you can remain composed – except Chris isn’t finished talking and lifts your chin up so that you’re looking at him again. “Even if it kills me, I will always put you first and you need to understand that.”

She asked Chris every question that she could think of, making sure that he elaborated on everything whenever she got confused about something that he had said. He told her about himself, what it means to be an Alpha and even took the brunt of her prodding when she learned that Chris has always had issues with his anger. Though it wasn’t just Chris that spoke, she shared about herself as well, especially about her relationship with Theo and what caused her to start the business with her sister. They spent hours talking and learning about each other and the worlds that they both came from – which meant also learning about werewolves and the mating process.

“So,” she asks, skin growing warmer to the touch as her skin flushed thinking about it, “when we had sex that day…”

Clearing his throat, Chris nods and looks away like he’s ashamed about admitting this to her. “I knotted you… you–” he clears his throat, “you seemed to enjoy it though.” He distinctly remembers how tight she was around him as she came undone and the thought stirs something up inside them both before she slaps his chest.

“I wasn’t focused on that! I was focused on how stupidly confusing you were and how you had your teeth in my neck.” God, he loves that little fire inside her when she’s trying to defend herself even though he can tell she’s thinking about it. “No.” She stops his thoughts in their tracks. “That is not happening again any time soon.”

“But you’re open to it happening again?” He smirks, his tone hopeful.

Rolling her eyes, she huffs, “maybe. I’ll think about it.” It’s not a ‘no’ so that allows Chris to believe that maybe she’s accepting their fate.

It’s always easier for werewolves to mate within their own kind and sometimes, they do regardless. If they don’t find their mates then they often choose to mate with someone from within the pack or another pack but it’s harder to do this when you’ve already found the one destined for you. It’s this pull, this need to be around them that makes it harder to be without them and with someone else – it’s why they don’t fight against it.

Even though Chris tried, and failed miserably.

He opens his mouth to say something, to ask her for a fresh start so that he can show her that he’s a good mate, a good choice in a partner for her, but when he does – she yawns. Loudly. Letting out a short laugh, Chris nods and understands what it is that she’s needing before she even asks for it; she’s been awake for a long time, holding out for him to wake up and deal with her interrogation so of course the exhaustion is hitting her now.

She’s human, after all. She isn’t built for this and while there’s still so much to do and work out – Chris needs to take it at her pace.

“Come here.” He lays on his back, bringing her head to rest on his chest, running his calloused fingers up and down her spine and keeping her close. “Sleep, hm? If you still have questions when we wake up then I’ll answer whatever else you want me to. I have no secrets from you, Sugar.” His body feels more at ease with her cuddled into his side, his breathing slowing down as he feels the tension leaving her and her fist unfurling on his stomach. It’s how they are meant to be – wrapped up in each other.

His eyes start growing heavy, his mind focusing on the steady heartbeat next to him and using it as his lullaby. The last thought that crosses Chris’ mind as he falls asleep is how this is something that he could get used to.

He could live the rest of his life with her like this in his arms.

Morning breaks and when the Alpha finally stirs from his deep sleep, the deepest he’s had in a long time, he finds himself alone. The side she was on is cold and her scent is fading. It hits him rather quickly: she left. She left while he was sleeping.

Chris searches the house, going from room to room as he calls out her name but it seems that nobody saw her leave the house. Her presence is a fleeting memory from the night before and with her taking everything when she left – it’s almost like she was never there. Chris lays down on the bed, huffing dejectedly as he rests his hand on his head and stares up at the ceiling in thought. “Why did she run away?” There’s nobody who can answer that question except the woman herself but it seems like she’s decided that she doesn’t want to be contacted at all.

Her phone is off. Serena hung up on him when he called the bakery. He could go to the bakery and see her but something tells him it wouldn’t go down well.

“Fuck,” he groans. Flinging his arm out, he accidentally hits the bedside cabinet in his frustration, knocking off the lamp. “Ah– shit.” He looks down to find that the lightbulb had shattered on impact and made a mess, representing his own mess, but that thought is short-lived because something else grabs his attention. He should focus first on cleaning it up, especially because shattered glass isn’t fun to pick out of his feet but the small letter laying on the floor has Chris reaching over instead.

It’s from her. He knows it’s from her. Chris could recognise her handwriting from a mile away.

Chris,I know it might seem like I’m a coward for disappearing before you even wake up but I just don’t know if I can do this. Not right now, at least.You said that the bond will remain and I know that eventually this won’t be something I can push away and ignore forever but I just need some time to think and adjust to everything that happened.One minute, I hated you… or at least wanted to, then the next thing I know, I’m held captive by my ex-boyfriend and someone I trusted and thought was my friend. I learned that werewolves were real in the span of a few hours and not only are they real – but I was used to hurt one over a grudge that happened before we even met. Murder and death are treated like everyday things and I get it, rules must be different for you but for me – even if Theo wasn’t someone that I cared for, I will never believe killing someone is okay.It’s also hard to accept that someone who has spent weeks pushing my buttons and making me unable to stand the sight of him, is meant to be this person I am connected to due to some bite mark that he put on me. Without my permission, I might add.While I want to say that I’m angry at you, I don’t know what I’m feeling to be able to put it all into words other than I need time. Please give me that. Let me work through things in my own time and maybe… well, eventually, we can connect again and see how things go.

Sighing, Chris places the letter on his bedside cabinet and sits up. With feet placed on the carpeted floor and a hand rubbing over his face, he thinks about what she must be going through and he knows that he needs to respect her wishes. She’s had so much thrown at her and it’s not fair for him to push her more. In time, he can hopefully work his way into her heart and show her that he’s not the man she hated. In time, Chris can make it up to her and make things right. He can start on the foot he should have when he first saw her that day but right now, she’s right – it’s a lot for a human to take in in such a short period of time. She needs to come back in her own time and he’ll give her that.

She deserves that from him, and more.

There’s a ring on the doorbell and you sit up from the couch, humming to yourself as you quickly make your way over to the door. You’re not entirely sure who is at the door but you can tell that Chris is excited about it because for the last hour, you’ve had this overwhelming mixture of excitement and nerves rushing through your body as if you’re waiting for something.

Over the last few months, you have been learning more about this bond with the Alpha. You had spent time allowing yourself to accept what had happened and work through all the emotions that had hit you all at once and then when you had accepted that this is something that’s not going away – you did some research. Of course, Google can only provide so much but with that and the lore from many of your fated mate romances, you learned that this is something that cannot be erased easily – or at all, depending on which book you read. You could feel Chris’ emotions whenever he felt strongly about something, like missing you, and there was this constant ache in your chest that has been growing slowly over time. It has gotten to a point where you’re almost ready to pack it up and go back home – almost.

Not that it’s just Chris that you’re missing. You had left town completely, having headed back to the city to get away from it all, which seemed to work at first when it came to being away from the constant reminders. Eventually, you began to miss Serena and the bakery. You miss your sister’s cooking and being able to go for walks along the beach after work. You miss how clean the air is and how quiet it is at night. Over your months away, you have compiled a list of all the things you miss and realise that the longer you’re away, the longer that list gets.

“Delivery for…” the man reads out your name and has your sign for it. Handing over a beautiful bouquet of roses, you bring them close and take a deep inhale before smiling softly to yourself.

Every few days for the last month, Chris has a new bouquet of flowers delivered to your door. At first, they were just flowers followed by a small text, telling you that he hopes you’re doing well, but the last couple of deliveries have had the nice addition of a letter.

You’re sure he got the idea from you.

“Thank you, have a good day.” You bow your head and take the letter from the delivery man before closing your door and making your way into the kitchen where the previous bouquet sits in a crystal vase. “Hm, they haven’t wilted yet…” You think to yourself before placing them on the bench to deal with later because you’ll have to find another vase for this one.

Sitting down on the couch once more, you open up the letter with a smile, wondering what words Chris has written for you this time. He’s strangely poetic, you’ve learned, always finding quotes from poems and sharing them with you or sometimes, he’ll share something about his past like how he once raced a few of his betas when he was a teen – only to end up running into a tree. Each letter held something that has you struggling to keep your distance, each text has you wishing you could tell him to come around, and every voicemail has your heart longing for him.

You made him miss you, even if it also made you miss Chris in return. You made sure that he had to work for your love. While you haven’t said those words to him or admitted them to yourself, with all the effort that he’s been putting in since you reached out a month ago – you can say that he’s on his way to winning you over.

Sugar,The new season comes in and your sister has decided that this means it’s time to rearrange the bakery.

You laugh softly, shaking your head because Serena had told you that Chris has not only been trying to make things right with you, but also with your sister. While you have the bond that makes it easier for him to break down those walls, Serena does not and from what she’s been saying – she’s making Chris work his ass off to get her blessing.

Not that it’s detering him in the slightest.

I know that you’ve been taking it slow and that you will decide to come back when you feel it’s time but I was hoping you might like to go out for dinner soon. No pressure, Sugar. It’s not like I’m going crazy without seeing your smile every time I walk into the bakery.

Just text me when and I’ll make it happen.

You smile, knowing exactly how he would have said those words because you can imagine the ever-so-confident smirk Chris would be wearing as he wrote that out. You realise that despite it all and how much he pissed you off, you can clearly imagine the way he would say certain things or how he would get this glint in his eyes whenever you fought back like it turned him on.

“It probably did,” you say aloud, speaking to yourself.

On another note, I was going to tell you when we were texting the other day but I didn’t want to ruin the mood. I thought you deserved to know that Minho has rejoined; he’s at the bottom of the chain until he earns the trust of the pack as a whole but he’s back. I don’t want you to come home and be surprised by his presence so I’ve made it clear that he stays away from you until you have decided to talk to him – I hope that’s okay with you. I didn’t want him to hinder your healing but I also didn’t want to overstep and make a decision for you.

This isn’t actually news to you because you already knew. Minho had texted you the moment Chris allowed him back onto the territory and had reached out to try and talk about what happened but you weren’t ready to deal with him. You honestly don’t know when you will be. Chris might have pissed you off and done things that you didn’t like or that had upset you but he didn’t betray your trust and kidnap you like Minho did.

He can sit in that guilt for a while. You can only deal with one werewolf at a time right now.

I’ll hear from you soon, hm? I’ll keep waiting until you’re ready but know that the moment you let me in – I’m never letting you go again.Chris.

Placing the letter down with the others on the coffee table, a little collection for you to read as you think about what to do next, you sit back and ponder about what you should do. You wanted to take time to deal with your feelings, to understand what happened and to try and figure out how to move forward with everything – you did that. You worked through it all and more. You even started to accept that this is how your life will be moving forward because as crazy as it all was in the beginning, haven’t you always tried to accept what life had to throw at you?

As crazy as a werewolf boyfriend might sound, clearly this was what the universe had decided for you from the moment you met Theo. Maybe you were destined to end up here no matter what path you took.

Taking a deep breath, you reach for your phone. If you don't make a decision now and act on it – you might take a few more months before going back.

[TEXT] <- Hey! So, dinner tonight? Pick me up at 7:30 and don’t be late!

#kvanity #straykidsland #lapydiariesnet #ksmutsociety #keopihausnet #iridescentxstars ©#scenario ; bangchan #werewolf ; bangchan #au ; werewolf #g ; smut #g ; dark #g ; supernatural #g ; enemies to lovers #group ; skz #bangchan scenario #bangchan scenarios #bangchan smut #bangchan fic #bangchan fanfic

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aloekat · 2 days ago

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welcome to the start of my danganronpa talent swap outfit art posts !!!!!!!!!

i know talent swaps are like a big au idea people do but i wanted to throw my hat in the ring and try my spin on it lol

first idea i had was to swap gundham and souda.

explanation for them is under the cut

overall for talent swap au, i want to keep their general personality and mostly their backstory the same and try to only see what happens if we switch their talents. this will remain my main design philosophy for the entire au by the way lol

in terms of general design for these two specifically, souda dresses like how his talent should and gundham really doesn’t so i kept that design philosophy for these two

souda is now the ultimate breeder (god we really need to think of a better title than that). he looks very much like he works with animals, still has not washed his overalls for way too long. instead of hamsters he has ferrets and their names are Sparkplug, Nuclear Reactor, Rocket Launcher, and of course Megatron. not much else to say, a lot of his design choices fell into place really easily :]

EDIT: can’t believe i didn’t say this, but the ferret names are from my partner!! shoutout to them for coming up with them :]

gundham is now the ultimate mechanic. i tried giving him a more medieval/steampunk aesthetic so he still Looks like he works with machines but definitely more in line with his personality and general aesthetic. instead of a scarf he gets this like face mask protection thing and a long purple like. piece of fabric connected to it. it just felt weird to see his neck so i needed to still cover it up somehow. as you can see in the tiny concept sketch, i wanted to give him his dr3 middle part hair but when actually sketching it for real i just couldn’t get it to work well with the goggles.

i really love how these turned out tbh! for being the first ones i think i actually did a good job at like portraying what their talent is. i especially love souda’s design idk it just looks appealing to me :]

#aloe.art #new tag for this sure i guess #aloe talentswap au #art #my art #danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #kazuichi souda #gundham tanaka

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fishhateme · 1 day ago

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so... LinkedIn au part four, anyone?

Listen. LISTEN. I know it's been like a month. But last week was the ao3 fic, so I'm making good on my promise and finally, finally continuing this au - rest assured, there will be no more longer breaks, we'll do biweekly updates now. Technically, this was supposed to come out on Thursday, but I was genuinely creatively blocked. Anyways, hope you like it! if you need to catch up, go read part 3!

Max wasn’t an expert on coffee, not really, but he’d wager the espresso he was drinking right now had been burned, watered down with tap water, covered up with sugary syrups he couldn’t name if he wanted to, and then topped off with the cheapest milk known to man.

Ah, the beauty of a college campus Starbucks.

Besides him, Daniel was drinking a chai latte (“I’m actually not supposed to be drinking this, I’m lactose intolerant, but YOLO, am I right? George, do people still say YOLO?”) and George, the TA, was typing furiously on his cellphone, his caramel macchiato long forgotten beside him (“Are you flirting with your boyfriend again, Georgie? Your boyf?” “Erm- Alex is just a friend, Professor Ricciardo. And nobody says boyf”).

In any case, Daniel’s eyes were now focused on Max as the Dutchman tried not to grimace anytime he took a gulp out of his drink, thinking that it was surely unfair that this man had such naturally long eyelashes and puppy-dog eyes.

“What about you, Max? Got any boyf?” Daniel asked, voice mocking as he said that just to annoy George, obviously.

Obviously.

That was the only reason he was asking about Max’s relationship status.

Even though the espresso he was drinking was hell on Earth, Max forced himself to take another gulp and swallow it, if only to buy himself some time. He thought about that Spanish car designer with the stupid mansion in Madrid he’d invited Lando to for the weekend, because if a God existed he surely wanted to show Max that good things happened to good people, just not him.

Unlike his friend, Max was meant to squirm under hot, middle aged men’s questioning gazes.

Actually not the worst fate in the world, now that he thought about it.

“Eeeeh” he said, noncommittal. “No, no, uh, boyfriend”

If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve said that Daniel smiled at that, but his plush lips were quickly covered by the plastic lid of his drink. “Ah, a pity, such a handsome man all alone. I’m single, too, if it helps you feel better. I’m All By Myself, like my friend Celine.” he stared at Max, the corner of his mouth quivering, clearly searching for some recognition that never came, “You uh, you know Celine, actually?”

Max frowned, not sure if he should focus on the fact that he’d just been called handsome or on the Aussie’s question, suddenly feeling socially inept. He knew a lot of people in the physics world - Jos had made sure of it, had taken him to see particle accelerators instead of playing football when he was a kid - but not so many in academia, not really. “Uh… Celine?”

George gave him a weird look, almost pitying, but Daniel was nodding along, a thrilled gleam in his eyes. “Yeah yeah yeah, Celine! She, uh, awesome lady, gosh, she did a lot of work in the, uh, green sector…” he turned to George, a gleam in his eyes, “George, Tell Him”

George rolled his eyes, sighing, but he set his phone on the table as he reluctantly smiled at his professor, seeming mildly amused. “Oh yeah, I remember Celine, It’s All Coming Back To Me Now”

Daniel almost jumped from delight at that, squirming in his seat like a child on a sugar rush, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he looked back at Max, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, uh, I don’t know if you remember, Max, she was really big in the green energy space, uh, she invented this whole new type of power plant… it was very, uh, revolutionary. She discovered, um, a new type of power” he said, his voice jumping an octave at his last words, his entire body language jumpy as if he couldn’t wait for something.

Max blinked, feeling like he’d missed half of the conversation, lost, suddenly back to being in the backseat of his dad’s car after another failed Physics Olympiad.

Was this Celine woman important? Was he forgetting, like, another one of Marie Curie’s daughters and they were laughing at his lack of physics knowledge? Had Daniel read his old fluid dynamics papers and expected a scholarly genius, only to be disappointed? Was he going to tell everyone he knew that the old prodigy of aerodynamic engineering was actually a fraud who hadn’t even designed a successful new aircraft in almost a year now? Was this all a big joke, and he was the punchline?

“She discovered The Power Of Love!” Daniel cut in, laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair, tears in his eyes as he cackled.

Unbeknownst to him, he'd said something so odd and utterly unfunny he'd completely snapped Max out of his spiral.

Huh, that's certainly a new way of getting back to the present.

Other patrons at the Starbucks stared, but at least one or two recognized Daniel by his honking laugh, waving hi at their professor, evidently somewhat fond of his antics.

Max felt half confused and half embarrassed, and he let out a little chuckle out of politeness, although he was mostly starting to get irritated by… whatever this was. He looked at George, feeling lost, and the TA laughed as well, clearly a little in love with Daniel too because he seemed far too charmed by the older man’s shenanigans. At Max’s lost look, though, he clearly took pity on him, because he stirred the caramel macchiato pensively before finally giving in.

“Celine Dion, Max” George explained, whilst Daniel was too busy laughing his ass off.

Max blinked once, then twice, feeling stupid. This wasn’t a… physics thing, was it? It wasn’t the type of get together where three academics tried to surpass each other’s encyclopedic knowledge of increasingly obscure subjects, it was just… three guys in a Starbucks.

Okay. Cool. Chill. Max could do that. Totally.

“Oh” he said, lamely.

Daniel was so delighted he was kicking his feet by now, wiping off his tears with a cheap napkin. “Ah, mate, you should’ve seen your face…” he sniffled, looking like a kid on Christmas as he beamed at Max, not even remotely ashamed. “Sorry, uh, I promise I don’t do that often. Must be the caffeine in my system”

“Yes, you do. And you’re drinking tea” George piped in, his British accent barely disguising his rudeness, but Max and Daniel were too busy making lovey dovey eyes at each other to really pay attention to his words.

What a weird fucking dude, Max thought, breathing slowly as he allowed himself a real smile.

If possible, Daniel smiled even wider, as if in reflex.

Okay, yeah, I wanna fuck him.

They ended up spending over an hour at the Starbucks, mainly because Daniel had gotten it into his head that his first-year students should computationally model the hypersonic aerodynamics of a cow for 20% of their grade, and now he was in a bit of a pickle since he was expecting at least one of his eighty or so students to adequately assume the cow would fucking die, and none of them had gotten it right.

George, exasperated, was already emailing one of Daniel’s faculty members, the Seb guy, asking how they could delete a graded assignment from the applied physics department’s digital database before the faculty head noticed.

Meanwhile, Daniel was bent over the table, sipping his third venti chai latte, clearly on a little bit of a sugar rush as he covered his face with his hands, “I just don’t get why they didn’t tell me to fuck off! They should’ve told me to fuck off, right? I mean- how many days did they even spend on this?! They put the- they put the fucking cow in Mach 5 velocity, did nobody think about the poor animal?!”

Max was just thankful he’d never had to study under Daniel, really. Not only would it have been a massive obstacle to his accelerated course of studies, which his father had personally designed, it would’ve also made him want to stay and have class with his peers, which would’ve been hugely detrimental to his carefully timed life plan.

They wrapped up the coffee date (was it a date when you brought along your TA and only talked about work? Max should really just swallow his pride, reinstall Grindr and be done with it) after Daniel texted a friend of his about animal cruelty and sticking bulldogs in wind tunnels or something. Max just hoped it wasn’t the bulldog guy from the convention.

It probably was, wasn’t it?

George had long since headed to the dorms, arguing weakly about homework, which his Aussie boss clearly didn’t buy for a second, but had still allowed.

As he took him to his car, Daniel smiled at Max, sweet like honey. His tan skin was glowy in the golden light of the sunset, and he almost looked regal, like a statue of a long forgotten Greek god.

The college parking lot was silent and deserted, at this time of day. Above them, the clouds shone a mesmerizing mix of pink and orange hues.

“I had a lot of fun today,” Daniel said, his voice quiet like he was afraid to ruin the moment. “Thanks for coming by. I know it’s not the most, uh… exciting, compared to your big-boy labs and, like- fancy computing systems and everything, but… y’know”

Max nodded along, eyes wide. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this, whatever this was. He wondered if Daniel’s lips tasted sweet with a hint of chai tea, tried to imagine how the spiciness of the black pepper would feel on his tongue.

“I had a lot of fun, too. It was nice to get shown around. I never got the, er, proper college experience. So it was of course lovely to join you, Daniel” Max responded, surprising himself when he realized he had actually had fun, even though it had been, objectively, a waste of his time.

He could waste time, and be cool and laid back, and have people know his name and order in a coffee shop, and memorize Celine Dion songs to make shitty jokes.

He could, truly.

Let me show you I could, he wanted to say, but the words died on his lips.

Daniel stared, still, uncharacteristically quiet.

He was awfully close, Max realized.

The Aussie cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but he didn’t take a step back. Max could feel his breath ghosting his lips. He must’ve looked pathetic, now, pupils blown wide and cheeks burning crimson for a man he hadn’t even touched.

Daniel seemed to finally get the memo, letting his eyes drift shut as he leaned in for a kiss, a soft peck of the lips with barely any tongue, tentative and unsure. Chaste, almost - silly for men their age.

Max sighed deeply through his nose, taking a step forward, wanting to be impossibly closer to Daniel, to press their bodies closer together, closer, closer, closer.

But Daniel pulled back, his warm hands caressing his shoulders, keeping him in place as he smiled softly. “Drive safe, Max”

And Max, maddened with the burning need for more, couldn’t do much more than nod, watching as he walked away.

#daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #maxiel #my fic #my writing #linkedin influencer!au #featuring tired ta george #oh wait i forgor 💀#george russell #this au is BACK #but also next week is gonna be a looooong yummy chapter on my daniel killing himself ao3 fic i'd go check that out #damn i really have to find a better name for that au don't i #i have an actual name for that other au but i cant say it without spoiling literally the last chapter aaaaah #anyways enjoy this piece of 'just get something on the page' quality writing #yours truly #fish #Also how many of you can tell im not a stem girlie just by the semi believable physics talk 😭

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euosin · 3 days ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 part 1

eric draven (2024) x fem!reader

“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” - Kiersten White

summary: after moving away from your hometown into the city, you hope to settle and live a peaceful life—until a familiar face comes into your cafe.

content: fluff w some angst, use of y/n, opposites attract kind of trope (yes I'm corny kill me), friends to lovers, wealthy reader, shelly doesn't exist in this au, family issues, drug abuse, alcoholism, a few cliches (again I'm corny so what)

a/n: i have literally read every single eric fic on this app i need more sos also forgive me if there’s a few mistakes in this, i read through it like 30 times but wtv

word count: 4.7k

You loved Eric, that was the truth. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, you couldn't escape the thought of him crying into your arms when you were seventeen, coming to you for any sense of comfort and sensibility at ungodly hours late at night. Although maybe you were foolish for excusing his constant substance abuse, the way he would be so high on life sometimes, but would then disappear for days on end with no phone call or message. It drove you insane. However, despite all the hardships you endured for him, you adored Eric. That admiration would never stop, could never stop. But you had a good life, a privileged life. Eric could see this; the two of you came from completely different worlds. And truthfully? He feared this. He feared the day you would realize he was holding you back from being you at your fullest potential. He saw the way you excelled in school, a bright extrovert with a smile that could light up any room. Eric, on the other hand was the complete opposite. He was behind all of his classes, barely had any friends that stuck around, and frequently missed school. He had no clue how he managed to get so close to you in high school. He was lucky. Eric had even joined the photography club at the beginning of his sophomore year to be closer to you, only if you knew how fast his heart raced when you complimented him on his photos.

“Those are really good,” you say as you look over his shoulder. Eric nearly jumps at the sight of you so close. He eagerly pulls out his earbuds, giving you an awkward smile. “Thank you.” He says while swallowing as you further examine the photos he had taken on the screen of his laptop. A stunning capture of a vast field with a ravine in the back. “Uhm, I’m Eric.” He says as he extends a hand out for you. You look down at his hand, an amused smile creeping up on your lips. He blinks before quietly cursing under his breath, realizing his approach was far too formal. As his hand begins to fall, you quickly catch it in yours, firmly shaking his hand. “I’m Y/N,”

“I know,” Eric blurts out. Your brows raise as he stumbles over his words, pretending he wasn't getting flustered at this conversation. You laugh, “Well, I’m glad I caught your name, you're always lurking in the back here. I’ve seen your other pictures. You're very talented.” You laughed. You were a sight for sore eyes. He felt so enamored by your sweet chuckles, your energy, your presence, everything about you gave him a high no other drug could ever give him. You found it cute, his handsome face was a bonus as well. It fascinated you that a guy who looked so tough on the outside was so shy and soft-spoken. It was stupid, really, the way he could barely speak to you without stammering or looking at the ground. He felt like a fool with you, shamelessly drawn into you even though you were so different from him. However, the day you invited him out after school was the day that he realized maybe the two of you weren't so different at all. You were a little rebellious. He found out you had a habit of sneaking out or staying out past the curfew that your parents had sternly set. You always had a pack of Marlboros hidden away in your makeup bag at school, and you would drink like there was no tomorrow. The first time you had gotten high with him was during the second semester of your sophomore year behind an abandoned building, Eric had told you he “knew a spot.” Honestly, you had your doubts and were worried that he was going to murder you or something, but you trusted him, and God, it was a beautiful view. There was a giant lake behind the building, the sun reflecting off the water, while the green trees encased the two of you in shadows, and the warm sunlight peeked through. This was a pattern for you and Eric. Getting high after school together, just enjoying the simple aspects of life while blabbering about stupid shit. You couldn't do this with your other friends, never with them.

This was a common reoccurrence, meeting up behind this musty building to bask in each other's presence while smoking. It was also the place where you got your first stick and poke. Was it a terrible idea? Yes. Did it sound good when the two of you thought of it? Yes. Late April, a soft, warm breeze blowing past you as you cringed at the feeling of the needle stabbing at your skin. “Hold still,” Eric said through a muffled laugh. He looked cute like this, eyebrows furrowed as his lips pressed into a concentrated thin line. He would look up at you occasionally, watching your face to make sure he wasn't going too far. You got matching tattoos, simple ones, nothing you'd regret too much in the future. It was a small star on your wrist. Unfortunately, when it came to your turn, the lines on Eric’s tattoo were shaky and rigid compared to his clean work on you. Embarrassed, you nervously giggled as you raised your wrist to his, admiring your poor adolescent decision. “I'm totally gonna regret this later.” You admit, “Hey, at least I did a good job.” He says as he lifts up his wrist with a deadpan look.

The moment everything changed for you was probably around the four hundredth time you got high with him in your junior year. Your parents were out of town for a week, so you took the liberty of inviting Eric over. He’d been outside your house before to pick you up, but never inside. You recall the way he looked so uneasy, big eyes like a puppy when you grabbed his arm and dragged him up the grand stairs to your room. “Your house is fucking insane.” He says as you push him through your door while he gawks at the vast corridors. You scoff, closing your door behind you and going over to open your window. “Seriously, what do your parents do for work? I might need to get my dad on that.” He says as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his lighter. “Mm, something with like investments, I guess… Ugh, I don't know and I don't care.” He laughs, sinking into your bed as he leans against the wall. He looks at the plethora of plushies in the corner of your bed, reaching over to grab a mangled-up fluffy bear. He sets it in his lap, toying with the fur of the bear. “Don’t laugh, I've had that thing for like 10 years.” You groan. “Uh-huh, I can tell.” Eric takes a hit from the joint before passing it over to you.

He turns, taking in his surroundings and scanning your bedroom. Your room was plastered with music and film posters, a few polaroids of you with your friends hanging on the wall, a notable one was of you and a guy with his arm around your waist. He didn't look like a friend. It was almost as if Eric was trying to find new things about you that he didn't know already, even though you had been friends for over a year—he still felt so awkward around you. “What’s up?” You cough, “You planning on stealing anything, Draven?” You ask with a quirked brow, your head resting on your knees. He smiles, looking down into his lap as he shakes his head. “No, I’m just trying to figure you out.” There's a pregnant silence that follows this as he stares into your eyes. With a soft hum, you pass him the joint before giggling to yourself. “I should be the one trying to figure you out.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that?” He takes a long drag from the thin roll, lulling his head over to you. You stare at him for what seems to be an eternity, and it makes his stomach churn. He starts to fidget, squirming slightly when he notices your eyes tracing the curves of his features. “Because you’re a mystery, Eric.” You finally reply. The sound of crickets outside and the soft humming of your heater fill the room. He was beautiful. Truly, gorgeous. It made you feel weird, your feelings toward him had changed immensely as you started to hang out with him more. Was it close proximity? Were you desperate? Was it the warm fairy lights in your room making him look even more lovely? No, you were sure of it, it was him. The way he gives his undivided attention to listen to you ramble about your parents or your interests, the way he would notice the smallest changes about you, like when you got a trim, changed up your makeup routine, or tried out a new perfume. He was so raw, so authentic, it made you want to dive further into him. He rarely spoke about his childhood or his life living with his father. You would notice how Eric would shift uncomfortably every time he would mention his life at home. It made you worried, but you didn't want to press in fear of overstepping boundaries.

“What makes me a mystery?” He asks. You blink, shrugging. “It's everything about you.” His breath hitches, emerald eyes dragging all over your face, seeking another emotion that could explain to him what you were feeling. You wanted to know him. You so badly needed to know his life. It would be wrong to dig into him, but you needed more. There would be moments when you'd catch yourself rambling to him, and you would abruptly stop when you realize you might be talking too much. But he urges you, “Go on,” he never made you feel foolish, he never made you stop talking. He would just sit back and listen. But, when would you be there to listen to him? “I really like you, Eric.” You mutter. “I don't feel this way about my other friends.” He could’ve sworn his heart was going to explode. Did you like him as a close friend or a lover? It made his soul ache and his head hurt, but he wanted you. The tension between you was undeniable, he felt it, and he knew you did too. Maybe he was delusional. It was probably just all of the weed and close proximity getting to him, that's all. But, fuck, your parted lips and the soft twinkle in your eye whenever you'd look up at him was killing him. After catching what you had said, you quickly changed the topic elsewhere in hopes of him forgetting about your confession. You pick your head up from your legs, twisting around to reach for your digital camera on your crowded bedside table. “Smile,” snapping a candid photograph of him, low eyes, a small smile on his lips, while smoke clouded parts of the photo. He groans as you laugh to yourself before he reaches out for the camera, taking a few blurry ones of you. For the rest of the night, you laid back and talked about everything shortly before you both slowly drifted off to sleep on your bed. In the morning, you ate together in a peaceful silence, leftovers from a restaurant you and your parents had gone to. He would frequently glance up from his food, catching a glimpse of you with your chin resting in the palm of your hand.

The connection was genuine. It was hard to deny how sparks would fly when you two were together. On the other hand, your friends didn't like him that much, always leaving snarky comments on his appearance, going on about how you “shouldn't be hanging out with the wrong crowd,” just a load of bullshit. Despite your snarky comments back to them, you realized Eric was changing rapidly. He was always a little reserved and quiet with tired eyes, but you would pick up on new things, the way he’d scratch at the back of his neck constantly, picking at the skin around his thumb, nodding off in the middle of class, constantly wiping his nose, missing the photography clubs meetings. Subtle hints, but his demeanor changed as well. He barely spoke anymore, not even to you. When you would ramble, instead of listening, he would just stare, not into your eyes but rather into nothing. There was nothing there. Eric would stop responding to your calls and messages, he’d stop showing up to your house to pick you up for after school joyrides, completely going radio silent before randomly showing back up at school again. When he would show up, he’d be erratic, jumpy, and couldn't sit still. Sometimes when you would speak to him, it was like you were talking to a wall. He was so nonchalant, tired like a zombie. So, when he told you he was being sent to a rehabilitation center, he begged you and pleaded with you to forget about him. You remember his face that night, dark circles under his eyes, and his skin, which was once so bright, was completely dull, he had gotten skinnier, losing his baby face you once would tease him about. He came to your porch, refusing to step inside your house as you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “I'm sorry.” You remember him saying. “I know you, and I know you'll be amazing. Just not with me in your life.” He was holding back tears, it was obvious. You didn't understand it, you wanted him in your life, and you could've simply stayed in contact with Eric after he got out, but he just ran his hand down the back of his neck, scratching his skin, eyes fixated on the concrete below him. “I don't even know when I’ll get out. And what if I relapse? I can't let you watch me go through this same bullshit over and over.”

“No,” you protested, “there’s no fucking way you think I’d just drop everything like that, not for you!” Even after your reasoning, Eric just shook his head at everything you said, drowning out your pleas when he left your patio. When you went back inside, you buried yourself under your sheets as you cried and thrashed around your bed. It hurt. Throughout the rest of your senior year following his disappearance, you'd constantly call and text his number, hoping and praying for a response, but nothing came back. It was like he had completely vanished. The worst part was that because Eric never told you about his home life, you had no idea where he had lived, no idea where his father was, so you couldn’t even ask him about Eric. Your motivation in school dropped, your interest in photography slowly disappeared, you stopped going out with your friends, and you kept yourself confined to the walls of your bedroom. Eric leaving shouldn't have made such a huge impact on you, not this big. You let it get to your head, and even after graduation, Eric was all you could think about. As you walked across that stage in front of the cheering crowd, you felt sick. He should be here. Even when you got into college, you continued texting his number until the messages turned green. You were lost without him. You never got the chance to tell him how you felt because you were too much of a coward, afraid that maybe the tension between you translated differently to you. Eric was an anxious person overall, just because he had a hard time keeping eye contact and talking properly when you were around meant nothing, right? You swore to yourself that you’d remember him, that you’d find a way back to him, but it seemed like as you transitioned into adulthood, Eric lingered in the back of your mind instead. You had no idea if he was still out there, sobered up with a steady job, or if he was still an addict, left somewhere in the dark.

And now, at twenty-four, you had moved away from your town and into the city. You've always adored the city more than the quiet town. Everyone was too close back home, everybody knew everything and it was terrifying. When you had told your parents you wanted to move to the city after college, they brushed it off, instantly sending you a giant sum of cash into your bank account as if they were desperate to get rid of you. Although you didn't mind, anything was better than staying near your family. You bought yourself a nice small apartment despite the money in your account, a gorgeous view overlooking the sky, and the bustling city below. It felt real, it felt like home. You found yourself opening up again, your past extrovert self coming back out of your shell as you met new people. You had made a new friend recently, Chance. He owned a tattoo parlor a few blocks down from your cafe, and had an upbeat personality. He often invited you out every time he caught you feeling down, he always knew how to pick you back up.

You were thankful, but couldn't help but think about how Eric would've loved being friends with him. They were so different yet so similar in ways. Then you'd get in your head again about Eric, feeling upset for another week before Chance would cheer you up again. You never told Chance about Eric, you only mentioned him as an old friend from high school and gave him miniscule details. When he’d ask why you were so hung up on him even though it had been six years, you could only shrug and drop your head. He never pressed you for more information, he’d just nod. Your circle had expanded, and you had a nice group of friends who were like a support group for you: Chance, Niyah, Penelope, Tiffy, and Chloe. Unfortunately for you, you had a hard time saying no to them. It was a terrible idea to go clubbing with your friends the night before you had a morning shift. “Just one drink!” Your girlfriends yell at you over the bass as they drag you to the bar. You playfully roll your eyes before making your way through the crowd. “So…” Niyah starts as she moves her curls out of her face. You look over, “You and Chance, huh?” She probes slyly. You watch as the other girls lean closer while whistling.

“Seriously? He's strictly a friend. He's like a brother to me.” You scoff before downing your gin and tonic, passing your thumb over your faded star tattoo. “Never in a million years would I go for him, I'm serious.” You watch as the girls blink, a look of amusement on their faces as they order their drinks. You can feel Niyah staring at you in your peripheral vision, so you glance over at her. Her arms are crossed, the dim club lights reflecting off her glossy lips. “You need to get drunk and you need to dance.” She says sternly. She wasn’t wrong, the past week hasn't been so good for you. You and your parents got into an argument, now they're adamant on ignoring you until further notice, but that was all. Other than your monthly falling out with your family, you had no idea why you were feeling so complicated. It was like you were a tsunami of emotions, and everything would just come and go. You didn't have any issues, you were sure of it. Niyah slides a glass of whisky down to you, nodding at it with her head. Hesitantly, you down it before letting her guide you over to the dance floor.

As the night went on, everything was a blur, the only thing you could remember was your friends dragging you out of the club and up into your apartment because you could barely walk. When your alarm blared through your room four hours later, you shot up, dragging your hands down your face, realizing you still had your makeup on from last night. With a groan, you stumble over to your desk, scrubbing at the dark shadow and glitter before running over to brush your teeth.

penelope: hey bby, hope you're feeling better you were knocked out last night :((

The notification pings, you read the text, smiling softly as you type in a short confirmation.

i’m fine, tysm for checking up on me i’m definitely gonna be hung over at work and mason’s gonna be on my dick about it, wish me luck. love u

You were lucky that your job was only a five minute walk. If you had taken the train, you would've been two hours late. “Good morning,” you mumble quietly to your coworker. “Morning.” He replies before slowly turning to you. “You’re late.” You hum lazily in response, “Barely.” Mason clicks his tongue, glancing up at the clock on the wall. “It’s 6:20. You were supposed to be here at 6:00.” As you clock in, Mason creeps up behind you, eyes squinted. “We’re not even open yet. Fuck!” You yelp when you turn around. Grabbing your apron off the rack, you raise your brows. “What is it?” He stays silent while examining your dark circles. “Are you hungover right now?” He asks. You pause, looking around anxiously before shaking your head and sliding past him. “Y/N, seriously? This is the third time this week.” You roll your eyes while wiping down the counters that the closing shift didn't clean properly. “Well, it's not like I'm full on drunk. I can function, I’m fine.” You bite back blowing up in his face, but you keep your composure. Mason sighs, shaking his head before flipping the sign at the front to open.

“Try to look a little more lively, okay?” He sets a hand on your shoulder, a look of pity on his face. That was when you realized something: he thought you were an alcoholic. Before you could open your mouth to defend yourself, the door swung open, a regular stepping in. “Just an iced americano, please.” She asks with a polite smile.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Your headache was only increasing throughout the morning, and Mason's refusal to cut you any slack wasn't helping either. It was only 11:34, just two more hours and you’d be free. You can't recall how many lattes were made today, but you were sure that you wouldn't be able to drink coffee for the next month or so. As you scroll through the orders on your screen, you notice Chance had placed an online order. Two drinks, his usual iced mocha, and an espresso. Huh, you thought to yourself. Chance didn’t like espressos. You shrug it off, going to work on his drinks as the cafe fills up with conversation. The only thing you were looking forward to was getting back home. It was unfortunate that the shop was understaffed, mornings were the worst, solely because it would get so busy, and only two people were working behind the counter. Suddenly, the idea of staying back at your parents' office in town, getting a quiet job of slaving away to fill out paperwork, and attending team meetings with tired businessmen didn't seem too bad to you. “Pick up for Chance,” a voice says behind you. Placing the drinks inside the drink carrier, you turn to hand it over before freezing in your tracks.

A familiar pair of green eyes settles on your face.

Eric. Eric. What the fuck? You recognize him, and he definitely recognizes you. His eyes almost immediately widen as his posture straightens. He looked so different. He had tattoos varying from his face down to his neck, and a tattoo you couldn't make out on his chest underneath his loose, pale yellow shirt. His arms and hands were covered in ink as well. His black hair, once full of waves, was now cut into a mullet, a cross dangling from his right ear, eyes smudged with black liner. Holy shit. It really was him, he looked healthy, stronger, and bigger than you remembered. He was always taller than you in school, but he appeared to be even taller now. It felt like the whole world had stopped, the conversation and soft music around you being drowned out by static. Six years. It had been six years since the last time you saw him, convinced he was gone for good, and here he was, in the flesh, perfectly intact. “Y/N,” he rasped, clearing his throat before he stiffly glanced down at his hands. The feelings you had pushed aside when you were teenagers came up again, the warmth from your chest spreading to your face. He was still so beautiful, even more attractive than he was when he left, and his voice. That sweet voice that sounded like music in your ears. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. He blinks, chewing on his bottom lip just as you place the drinks down the counter. Eric doesn't reach out for it, he doesn’t move. There’s a sense of guilt on his face, like he was ashamed that you saw him. Regardless of this silent encounter, he was still so smitten with you. You had matured. In school, you were ravishing, of course, but now you have grown into your features, your hair framing your face like a Renaissance painting. Eric hated that he ran into you like this, if it were up to him, he would’ve planned something more private, more sensitive, but he didn’t. In fact, he never intended to see you again. After staring at each other for what seemed like eons, the sound of the front door opening snapped you back into reality. Hurriedly, you rushed over to help the customer. Eric springs forward to grab the drinks and strides out the door. He felt sick to his stomach as he walked down the street, picking up his pace to get to Chance’s tattoo parlor faster.

Eric swings the glass door open, placing his coffee down on the table. “Do you have anybody today?” He asks with a jittery exhale. Chance looks up, giving him a curious look, shaking his head. “Not until an hour.” He turns off his phone, sensing Eric’s restlessness. “You okay, man?” He inquires, “Looks like you’ve seen a ghost or somethin’.” Eric lets out a short laugh, rubbing at his forehead. “Yeah, I did. Fuck.” He sinks into a chair next to Chance, leaning his head against the back of the cushion. “I’m so fucked.” Chance stares at him dazedly, looking around before slowly rolling his chair closer to Eric. “C’mon, talk to me. What’s goin’ on?” He shakes his head, unable to form words. When he finally drops his hands from his head, he shrugs. “I don’t know, I just saw someone I feel like I shouldn’t have seen.”

“Right, cut the cryptic shit, Eric. Who’d you see?”

“Just–just somebody that I used to know in the coffee shop. Ugh, see? I told you, man, you could’ve just ordered the coffee by yourself in person. Using me as your errand boy–”

“Woah, okay. First of all, you offered to pick up the coffee by yourself, and you can’t be an errand boy if you offered.” Chance scoffs with an eye roll.

“Sure, whatever. I didn’t even know she worked there. I pass by that place every morning. How did I not see that?”

Chance pauses as he takes a sip from his drink, “Huh?” he asks. “Huh?” Eric repeats while biting the insides of his cheek. “She works there?” Eric drops his head again, nodding while passing his hand through his hair. He blinks, the gears in his head turning. “Shit, Y/N?” Eric almost breaks his neck with the speed at how fast he looked up, his jaw clenches. “You know her?”

#eric draven x reader #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård x reader #the crow 2024 #eric draven x you

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tgmsunmontue · 9 hours ago

Text

Saga of Solitude 21/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008) TEN (2009) ELEVEN (2010) TWELVE (2011) THIRTEEN (2012) FOURTEEN (2013) FIFTEEN (2014) SIXTEEN (2015) SEVENTEEN (2016) EIGHTEEN (2017) NINETEEN (2018) TWENTY (2019)

WARNING - this is ~25k long. Sleep first. Or make yourself comfy. Eat something.

HUGE thank you to all the people who have given this a chance, and especially those who have been my cheerleader/s from the start. @phisworld14 especially gets a special shoutout for putting up with me sending her messages constantly about EVERYTHING.

CHAPTER TWENTYONE – EPILOGUE

“Come home with me?” Bradley asks. Part of him is terrified Jake might say no. He wants to talk, but doesn’t particularly want Ice and Mav within hearing range when he does so. There are limits for his personal groveling and humiliation and he edges them toward the door, leaves their drinks untouched where they are, which will no doubt annoy both Ice and Mav, but he has more important things to think and worry about right now and he hopes they’ll understand.

“You really don’t live here?” Jake asks as he follows Bradley’s lead and puts his shoes back on.

“No,” Bradley says, a little horrified. He also bites back the fact that he told Jake a little earlier that he wanted to take him to his parents. “I have my own place, a little closer to base actually.”

“Okay. Well. I’m at your mercy. You’re my ride.”

“Tell me where you want to go…” Bradley states, and he doesn’t just mean about vehicular transport. He’ll take Jake back to base if that’s what he wants. Or a diner, somewhere neutral. “You’re the one giving the directions right now…” he offers, and they’ve gone from talking about hot drinks to driving and they’ll get to the point eventually but it feels safer, circling the subject like this.

“You better be serious about this Bradshaw…” Jake mutters, and Bradley knows then that he understands exactly what Bradley is saying. Offering.

“Well, you’ve met my parents. Well. Half of them. Wait. Maybe one-third, because my mom and dad are dead…”

“You’re rambling.”

“You make me nervous,” Bradley admits, because if they’re going to do this… if he’s going to do this… then he needs to be honest and upfront from the start. At least when he can be, because sometimes he really struggles to identify how he’s even feeling, let alone voice it aloud. He should probably share that fact with Jake.

“Do I now?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t you make me nervous?”

“I don’t know. You tell me…”

“I’m… I’m terrified of fucking this up,” Bradley states, then sucks in a breath. “Again.” he says on an exhale and Jake’s lips twist into a half-smile and he so desperately wants to just lean over and kiss him, instead starts the Bronco and reverses down the driveway.

“Pretty sure we’ll fuck it up. But…”

“But?” Bradley asks, hope lacing his question.

“Well. Bit of a difference between doing it by accident and doing it because you want to hurt someone… think we’ve hopefully moved past the deliberately hurting each other stage.”

“Yeah. Years ago…” Bradley says, because it’s nothing but the truth, glances across at Jake who is staring out the window.

“Mmm. Well then. As you said… you’d like to get to know me.”

“Yeah.”

“So what am I to you now?”

“The guy I’m dating. My partner. My boyfriend. All of them… take your pick. Make up a name if you want to.”

“Hmm. I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”

Bradley isn’t going to say that he has, because he suspects that that’s part of the problem. Jake wanted him to be all of those things years ago, and fuck if he’s only just starting to realize what he almost let slip through his fingers.

“Then boyfriend it is…” Bradley offers quietly, throat feeling tight and he lets silence fall, focusses on driving but when he feels Jake’s fingers brush over his hand on the stick shift he turns his hand over, squeezes Jake’s hand and turns to smile at him. The tightness in his throat still there and he licks his lips and sucks in a deep shuddery breath. He drives, wants to say something, words tumbling over in his head, half-apology, half-explanation.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t ready before.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t ready to be yours.”

“Oh. And you’re ready now?”

“I think I’ve been working on getting ready to be yours for the last decade. More than ready. If you’ll have me…”

“You’re an idiot.”

“That’s not an answer Jake…”

“Well. It sort of is. Of course I’ll have you… even when I hated you I loved you.”

“Jesus Jake…” Bradley says under his breath, because that’s heartbreaking and he wishes he could go back and change things. Wants nothing more than to reach over and kiss him; instead holds himself back, suspects that maybe they might need to take things a little more cautiously. Ease into an actual relationship with more open communication than they’ve had in the past. The last thing he ever wants to do again is hurt Jake.

… … …

“Did I just hear Bradley?” Maverick asks, head poking around the corner, and he’s toweling himself dry, wearing only his boxers and Tom lets himself step forward and press a kiss to the curve of his shoulder, feels warm at the responding wide grin he gets from Pete.

“Yes.”

“Uh. Has he gone already?”

“He was just here with Seresin.”

“Hangman? Really?”

“Maybe finally sorting out their relationship…”

“Thought you said they didn’t have a relationship…”

“Well. I think they might be taking the last ten years and trying to turn it into one.”

“Oof. That’s…” Pete pulls a face and Tom purses his lips, because yes, they’re both familiar with how difficult that can be. “What did they come for exactly?”

“Does it matter?” Tom asks, because he has his suspicions, given Bradley’s whole head-banging episode against the fridge, and Seresin’s expression as he took in the photos. He hopes it’s had whatever desired effect on Seresin that Bradley was aiming for. Knows Bradley will be wanting… something. Seems to have finally settled into his own skin and he wonders sometimes. “I know we did our best, but sometimes I think Bradley would have been better raised by someone…”

“Don’t you dare say someone who loved him. We love him.”

Tom sighs, shakes his head.

“Maverick. Pete. That isn’t what I was going to say… I think he would have maybe found himself a bit sooner if he hadn’t spent so much of his life trying to live up to an ideal frozen in glass.”

“What do you mean? Are you talking about Goose?”

“No. Well. Yes. But… us as well. I’ve had so many people tell me that I must be so proud of him, because of everything he has achieved, everything he’s become. But then I try to recall how often I’ve told him that I’m proud of him and I… I come up empty. I don’t generally tell men under my command that I’m proud of them.”

“Oh…”

“Yes. And I don’t know if he’s been trying to live up to Goose, or to you, or to me… but to have any or all of us as people to try and live up to? The fact he’s not more messed up is a small miracle.”

“You really think that’s what he’s been trying to do?”

“I don’t know Mav…” Tom sighs, tired suddenly. “But if it were you? I know you had to fight against your own father’s reputation, but imagine having three reputations to either overcome or live up to…”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

… … …

“So, uh. This is my place… my parents. My uh, real parents that is…”

“You’re fine Bradshaw. Bradley…”

He jerks his head, feeling inexplicably awkward and exposed showing Jake his home. This isn’t a place that he shares with people outside of his immediate family. Hearing Jake say his name, the first time he’s called him something other than Bradshaw or Rooster in years makes him feel fragile. He needs something to do with his hands, stop himself from reaching out.

“You want a drink? I’ve got… a whole range.”

“Just some water would be good. Stay hydrated and all that.”

“Yeah, okay. Uh. Feel free to look around. I’ll go and grab some water I guess…”

“You’re not worried about me finding all your secrets?”

“You know all my secrets,” Bradley replies, because it’s the truth, and he likes that Jake has followed him into the kitchen.

“Do I?”

Bradley opens his mouth, ready to say yes, of course, and then pauses.

“All the important ones. And I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just ask.”

Jake takes him at his word, starts asking questions like he’s on a fact-finding mission and Bradley wonders if he’ll ever be given the opportunity to do the same. He doesn’t care if it takes him years to find out all of Jake’s secrets, he’s willing to wait however long it takes. They end up settled on the sofa, facing each other but just within touching distance. Jake continues to ask questions and Bradley continues to answer them.

He ends up sharing facts about everyone he’s had sex with, that he remembers anyway. He does mention his one threesome but refuses to expound on it further when Jake raises a curious eyebrow. Then he’s talking about his time at the USNA, hiding his relationship with Maverick and Ice, using Tamsin and Petra, along with Sarah to offer a thin smoke screen to anyone just glancing past. His relationship with Natasha, and Jake seems surprised to learn that she’s known all of it for as long as she has. Mutters about her balancing skills and Bradley has no idea what he means by that.

“Can I ask you a question?” Bradley asks, and Jake nods, waves his hand as if encouraging him to continue and he cannot believe how much he finds him so endearing and amazing.

“Were you jealous?”

“Which time?”

“When you saw me with Tamsin and Petra. Were you jealous?”

“Trying to stroke your ego there Rooster?”

Bradley’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t let himself actually smile. He’s starting to realize that Jake uses his callsign when he’s getting defensive. Thing is, he’s pretty sure he’s just learnt a failsafe way of dismantling his walls as easy as breathing, and that’s admitting his own feelings.

“No. Just wanted to let you know that I would have been, if our roles had been reversed. Fuck. I’m jealous of fucking Coyote some days…”

“Yeah?” Jake asks, clearly surprised.

“Yeah. Of course.”

“You don’t have any reason to be jealous. Coyote is awful in the sack.”

Bradley barks out a surprised laugh.

“Is he?”

“Fucked if I know, but… point stands. You don’t have to be jealous of him.”

“I’m not jealous of the sex. Hypothetical or otherwise. It’s your close relationship with him. I want that with you.”

“Well. It’s yours. If you want it.”

“Yeah. I… I do want it.”

“It’ll take a while.”

“Years and years…” Bradley offers, confirms and the smile Jake gives him is small and hesitant, and he returns it, a little wider and brighter because it feels like a weight has lifted. They sit there, looking at each other, fingers just touching, brushing each other and it’s a sharp contrast to so many of their previous interactions. The conversation has left him tired, emotionally drained but also refreshed like he’s had a really good cleansing cry. Then Jake is shifting, moving closer and he holds his breath, watches as Jake kneels awkwardly on the sofa beside him, eyes meeting his.

The kiss is soft, like spun sugar, delicate in its newness and just as sweet.

“You want me to take you home? Or do you want to stay? Up to you,” Bradley says softly, and he’s quietly serious, runs gentle fingers down the side of Jake’s face, brushes hair back off his forehead. He’s going to be fine with whatever Jake chooses, whatever he wants; however, he wants to move them forward, his face is schooled into easy acceptance of giving Jake whatever he wants. Then Jake is shifting again, straddling his thighs and he moves a little to accommodate him, lets his hands rest on Jake’s legs, looks up at him and waits for an answer, tries not to get his hopes up.

“I want to stay.”

“Yeah?”

“Take me to bed… please.”

“Yeah?” Bradley asks again, needing to make sure, and his voice breaks on the question and Jake clearly thinks it’s funny, laughs into his chest, nodding his head.

“Yeah.”

He kisses Jake then, lets his hands settle on his hips, fingers reaching around to press into Jake’s ass, grinds them together as best he can and Jake is kissing him, fingers curling and tugging into his hair and he groans, wants Jake everywhere.

“Mission parameters?”

“You’re such a massive dork…”

“Yep. Guilty.”

“Just… take me to bed. Then take me apart.”

He’s not quite sure what Jake means by that, doesn’t want to stop and keep poking and prodding and asking questions. He’s familiar enough with Jake’s body at least to know what he likes and doesn’t like. He braces himself, wonders if this is going to end in hilarity, disaster or a trip to Urgent Care, but he stands, muscles straining as his fingers dig into Jake’s thighs and ass, holding him up. Jake squawking, arms gone tight around Bradley’s neck, and he’s swearing under his breath but he’s pretty sure Jake’s secretly pleased. And his bedroom is close.

Jake isn’t light, though, and he grunts as he maneuvers around the furniture, distracted a little by the fact that Jake has decided sucking at his neck is a good idea. He pushes him against the wall, readjusts his hold a little so it’s more secure and Jake’s laugh is bright in his ears.

“If you fucking drop me right now…”

“We’re both going down before I drop you…” Bradley promises with a grin, because it’s maybe ten steps and he means it. He would rather fall to the floor with Jake in his arms than just drop him to the floor. Jake’s arms are tight around his neck as he takes the steps, and he doesn’t drop him onto the bed, but it’s a close thing and Jake seems to know it, if the amusement in his eyes is any judge.

“You can carry me next time…” Bradley says wryly, lowering himself to lie as close to Jake as possible without simply lying directly on top of him like he wants to. Then Jake is pulling him, legs spreading to make room for him and Bradley doesn’t need more of an invitation than that, rolls and settles, lets his body blanket Jake and he looks down at him. Lets himself soak in the fact that Jake is here, in his bed, in his home.

“Hi…”

“Hi.”

He grinds his hips a little, not hard, not fast, just… a little bit firmer than the pressure of where he’s resting, covers Jake’s mouth with his own, kisses and licks into his mouth, just sinks into the pleasure of the closeness, the way their bodies are moving against each other, hands exploring and plucking at clothes, fingers finding bare skin.

“Fuck…”

“This… okay?”

“I’ll tell you if it’s not. Promise.”

That makes him relax a bit, that Jake understands where he’s coming from and it gives him a little flare of promise that a relationship between them might not be quite as fraught with mines as it might have been otherwise.

“Good. Thank you…”

He shifts, sits up and separates them enough so they can strip each other’s clothes off, fingers gentle and smoothing over skin, kisses leaving invisible trails. He kisses his way down Jake’s body, still wonders if he’ll ever get used to the idea that Jake and him are… well. That there is actually a Jake and him. That Jake is giving them a chance together and he will do anything and everything to make it happen.

Well. Nearly anything.

“If I blow you can you still come if I fuck you?”

“Oh you absolute asshole…”

“What? We’re not that old…” Bradley says, not sure what he’s said to make Jake say that, to call him an asshole.

“I wasn’t… yes. Yes. Please… yeah… that… that sounds perfect.”

He licks and sucks and it’s something of a luxury, having Jake spread out in a bed, no time constraints and he realizes then why Jake was maybe calling him an asshole. It’s not the same as their first time, but it is very similar and he wants Jake come-drunk, warm and pliant beneath him. He slicks up his fingers a little, runs them over Jake’s hole as he blows him, sucks and licks while his fingers just circle and brush over, not pushing in, not yet. Jake said he wanted him to take him apart and Bradley can do that, knows how to do that. Hasn’t in a long time, but he hopes that Jake trusts him enough to let him take care of him, and not just with this.

“Oh fuck… uh…shit… Bradley…”

He sucks harder, feels Jake’s fingers curling in his hair carefully, the shifting in Jake’s hips as he tries to both push and press and stay still. He lets his jaw go slack, wants to drool and get Jake sloppy, wants to revel in the messiness and the fact that they have time, have each other. His own cock is hard, throbbing a steady tempo with his heart, blood hot. But he’s practiced, more experienced now, at ignoring and holding off and he feels single minded in his determination to take care of Jake first and foremost. He lets Jake’s cock hit the back of his throat a couple of times before he pulls off, kissing the head in sympathy as Jake whines at the loss of contact, of suction.

“Jake… want you to fuck my throat… want everyone to know what I got up to with you tonight… think you can do that for me?”

“Oh fuck…” Jake’s voice is barely an audible whisper, a broken sound edging toward a sob.

“Soon…” Bradley promises.

“Bradley…”

He bites his bottom lip, but it does nothing to stop the smile he knows is on his face. Pleasure is bubbling through him and he settles back down to his task at hand, sucking Jake’s cock until he comes, tips over the edge into pleasure because Bradley is the one taking him there, step one in taking him apart. Jake’s fingers feel a little shaky in his hair and he groans as Jake shifts a little, his hips flexing and pressing his cock further into Bradley with restrained politeness. He doesn’t want that. He wants Jake mindless with pleasure.

He reaches for Jake’s hand, the one resting on his head, curls his fingers around Jake’s and pulls his own hair and Bradley groans, repeats the movement and Jake is swearing under his breath and Bradley knows he’s got the message and lets his hand fall away. Jake’s fingers stay, tugging Bradley’s hair with an edge of desperation as his hips begin to jerk and Bradley lets his eyes glance up to Jake’s face. Their eyes meet and Jake’s eyes slam shut, like the sight of Bradley looking up at him is too much.

“Oh fuck… you’re going to kill me…”

Feeling a little perverse, he slows down, massages over Jake’s perineum, sucks each of his balls into his mouth carefully one after the other, drags his moustache up the length of Jake’s cock before sucking him back down again for a few drawn out seconds before beginning the process from the start. Jake is pleading with him, not quite begging to come, but getting there. The fifth or sixth time, Bradley’s lost count, Jake’s hand in his hair is tight, hiships jerking and twitching uncontrollably and he’s no longer making sounds that Bradley can recognize as actual words, although part of his name is making its way out of Jake’s lips, along with what he’s pretty sure is meant to be please.

Jake’s body arches off the bed as he comes, and Bradley gags a little but he swallows and draws back, mouth and tongue gentler now, just holding Jake’s cock rather than trying to coax out an orgasm. Jake’s entire body is shaking, shuddering out its pleasure, his hand in Bradley’s hair now there, resting. He waits for Jake to either shift away or say something. Anything.

“Fuck…”

Yeah. That’ll do for a start.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous…” Bradley says, and his voice is definitely rough and low. He starts peppering little kisses over the inside of Jake’s thigh, up over the jut of his pelvis, then over his stomach, murmuring more words as he kisses a path up Jake’s body, let’s his cock drag over the muscles of Jake’s legs and groans when Jake reaches and wraps his hand around his cock. “Only getting started in taking you apart…” Bradley says, and then he licks one of Jake’s nipples, can’t help but feel smug when Jake groans, his body shifting and pressing against him, seeking more of the touch and Bradley smiles as he licks over the over nipple, teases it a little with his teeth.

Like he hoped, Jake has relaxed completely, his body warm and lax, and he gives in to the urge to kiss him, knows Jake doesn’t care about the lingering taste of come. He rubs against Jake’s body, grinds his cock against the flesh of Jake’s thigh despite Jake’s hand trying to give him an awkwardly angled handjob. He doesn’t need the added stimulation, already more than hard enough and he’s still got to prepare Jake for taking his cock. He grabs for the lube, has to scramble for a bit because he doesn’t want to look away from Jake.

He moves his hand and presses in with a finger, takes his time, forces himself to be patient and build the anticipation in his own gut with the knowledge that he’s getting to give Jake pleasure. More pleasure. It’s that which helps him ignore the aching in his own cock, and he’s generous with the lube and stretching, isn’t going to ask how long it’s been but instead treat Jake exactly how he’s always wanted to treat him, with desire and reverence.

“You good?”

“You know it…” Jake says, but his words are slurred, legs spreading even further, his eyes fixed on Bradley. He rolls the condom on and slicks himself up, rubs the extra between Jake’s ass cheeks and bends down to kiss him again, lets himself just enjoy the intimacy of kissing and not needing to hurry it along. Jake’s hard again, his body shifting and chasing the friction Bradley’s body offers and he lets him grind and flex against him for a bit while they kiss, his own cock definitely hard and aching.

“Come on… get your dick in me…”

“So charming…” Bradley says, grinning and bending down to kiss him again, glad that the laughter and teasing has come back without even seeming to try. He shifts Jake’s legs, is already between them, rubbing and pressing the head of his cock against Jake’s hole.

“I am the most charming… but I’m going to die of old age… hurry the fuuu– ”

He presses and presses and presses, it’s hot tight all-encompassing driving him to pin-point focus as he holds himself fully sheathed in Jake’s body, hands shaking a little with the effort to not just fuck into him wildly.

“You were saying?” he asks, but the playful bite sounds breathless to his own ears, and he shifts slightly and Jake clenches down and he groans, deep and guttural. “Jake… gotta move… please…”

“Yeah… fuck yeah…”

He takes that as implicit permission, pulls back slowly, halfway before pressing back in with a groan, his entire body shivering at the sensation. Jake’s low hum is promising and he repeats the movement, slow and steady, rocking into him. It’s a bit disorganized, holding Jake’s hips and legs and he pushes in, holds himself and grinds while also reaching for the pillows. He shoves them under Jake’s back and hip, and it’s a little awkward but they’re grinning at each other, and he feels light.

Happy.

He doesn’t want the feeling to end, doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to capture this feeling, of a first time without it being the first time, allowing himself to feel everything he does for Jake and trying to make Jake aware of it without saying anything. He will tell him, not right now, but soon enough. Jake’s fingers are digging into Bradley’s ass encouraging him on, breath warm and damp and he pants out Bradley’s name, mixed with expletives and delicious little sounds Bradley wants to hear more of. Hopefully for a long time.

He comes with a punched out grunt, his mouth latched firmly onto Jake’s neck, the fingers of one hand clenched into Jake’s flank, the others gripping the sheet of the bed. It’s fine though, he’s pretty sure he’s going to have scratch marks down his back, Jake’s fingers and hands clinging to him even now. He kisses up Jake’s neck, along his jaw, licks into his mouth as he continues to ride out the lingering jolts of pleasure from his orgasm, his cock still hard as he thrusts a little languidly, grinding and circling his hips just right to press into Jake’s prostate. He pulls back a little, just enough to wrap his hand around Jake’s cock, to shift him a little so Jake can relax his legs and so he can jerk him off. If that’s what he wants.

“What do you want Jake? Going to come for me like this? Or want me to finger you and suck you off again? Want to give you whatever you want. Want to give you everything…”

Jake comes with a shudder, his ass clenching tight around Bradley’s cock and he lets out a low fuuuck as his body shivers with over sensitivity and he wonders what it is exactly that set Jake off. He looks forward to future investigation and he smiles as he places kisses everywhere he can reach with his mouth before he shifts, pulls out of Jake and kisses the little furrow in his brow, murmuring be right back. Jake’s fingers wrap tight around his wrist though and he stops, leans back down and runs his nose through the sweat damp hair around Jake’s ear.

“Bradley…” whisper quiet.

“Yeah baby…” Bradley whispers back and the endearment slips so easily from his mouth and he freezes for a second, wonders if Jake will mind. He remembers being unable to call him anything but baby. The little hiccupping sound Jake makes has Bradley concerned, worried that Jake��s crying… and fuck. He is. He kisses tears from Jake’s face, voice soft as he murmurs his apologies.

“Shit Jake… sweetheart. I’m sorry…”

“Just… don’t let go.”

“Never again…”

He doesn’t let go, shifts a little to reach for the box of tissues to clean up instead, but he doesn’t stop touching Jake, lets his fingers be gentle, lets himself press his lips wherever he wants. Like with the Bronco and the moustache he remembers the first time they fucked, how different Jake had been. A lot softer and trusting and Bradley wonders if he gets to get that back. Hell. He’ll work toward it for the rest of his life if he has to. Because Jake used to be come drunk and lazy after coming. That changed to terse abrupt departures and words, but right now Jake is in his arms, more alert but also far more relaxed and seems completely uninclined to move anywhere.

And like their first time together he remembers their conversation afterwards, their frank and open words about what they liked and didn’t like. Both of them treating it like a debrief. No secrets between them. Fuck. Looking back no wonder it had fucked Jake up when he’d just pretended to not even know him when they’d started crossing paths professionally. Making their entire time together a secret that he couldn’t even share with Bradley.

“We’ve… you’re… we’re definitely…”

“Sexually compatible?” Bradley provides, and part of him relaxes even further, because this is the familiar ground they’re treading as well.

“Mmm. Well. That and all the practice you’ve no doubt had…”

Bradley’s eyebrows shoot up and he’s glad Jake can’t see him, because he’d accused Jake of being jealous, but he hadn’t seriously thought that he might be insecure about it. He can allay that fear or worry at least, and he makes Jake roll over so they’re facing each other, fuzzy in the dim light.

“Most of my practice was a while ago now. I mean, I haven’t had sex with anyone but you this entire year, so…”

“What?”

“Jake… I’m not… when I was younger, yeah. But… not for several years now. You’ve been someone I always kept circling back to, and it probably wasn’t healthy. For either of us. But that was then. I don’t want anyone but you. Okay?”

Jake is nodding quickly, lips tight, he’s swallowing like he’s holding back tears again and Bradley leans forward and kisses him, slow and thorough, lets his hands run all over Jake’s body and hopes he’s conveying the depth of what he’s feeling. He’s all in.

“You know… talking about jealousy. You set a pretty unfair bar.”

“What? What kind of bar?” Bradley asks, because that hadn’t been talking about jealously just now, although he supposes alluding to the past and all the people he has slept with might make Jake feel jealous.

“Sexual expectations…”

“Did I? When?”

“The first time,” Jake mutters, sounding exasperated. “Kind of brutally unfair having you for an entire weekend when I was young, and then having to… experience so much shitty sex afterwards, knowing it could be so much better…”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Should I have given you a shitty sexual experience?” Bradley asks with a laugh, leans is and bites playfully at the curve of Jake’s neck. He feels a flicker of possessiveness, of pride, that Jake has always compared the other people he’s had sex with to Bradley and found them lacking. Fuck. He’s never going to admit that aloud to anyone, although he suspects from the way Jake is looking at him his expression has given him away.

“It’s why I sometimes had sex with you again. Because I was like, surely it can’t be as good as I remember it being. And then…”

“I’d knock your socks off.”

“And rip my heart to pieces in the process…”

Bradley recoils, but he supposes it’s fair. They can’t ignore their very shaky and less-than-ideal past. All the times Jake has thrown acid-laden words his way and he knows that they were a coping technique, one he no doubt forced Jake to employ. Wonders if suggesting they get therapy together would be too much too soon. He wants… so much.

“I’m sorry…”

“You can spend the next ten or twenty years making it up to me… then we can figure out what we want to do.”

Oh. He pulls back, tries to focus better in the half-light, wants to see Jake’s face better but all he can really see is the outline, but it’s enough.

“Twenty years huh?”

“Seems a good a start as any.”

“Yeah… yeah it definitely is.”

If Mav and Ice can figure out their relationship through DADT and marriages and children then he and Jake can surely figure it out as well.

… … …

He pushes himself against Jake, lets his lips press into the curve of his neck.

“Morning…”

“Morning.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just…” he shrugs then, face scrunching in the way Bradley has come to recognize as a little self-depreciating but inwardly annoyed with himself all at once, for doubting himself. It’s uniquely Jake and he suspects that not very many people get to see this side of him.

“It’s a lot to have dumped on you in an evening and even more to process?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You’re doing enough…”

“Well… I can do more. I want to take you on dates, and have showers with you, and go and get haircuts, and go grocery shopping and fight over replacing the toilet paper and… everything. I want everything. Does that help?”

Jake nods, quick and fast and Bradley lets himself cup Jake’s face in his hands and kisses him, slow and sweet. He’s spent years holding himself in check, has no reason to hold back now. Tries to put the way he’s feeling into actions, worried that if he speaks them out loud they’ll be too much for Jake. All at once after everything.

“I want to take you dancing.”

“Yeah? Line dancing?”

“Yeah. That okay?”

“Of course. I really enjoyed doing that with you last time…”

The little smirk Jake gives him is softer and it fills him with warmth, a little more confident that they’ll be more than okay; that Jake feels comfortable enough to be soft with him, even after everything.

… … …

Pete wakes up in pain, not a new experience, but still not one he thinks anyone likes. His back aches, and he knows he’s getting on in years, but the two ejections and crash landing haven’t exactly endeared his body to repeating any of it ever again. Then Ice’s hands are on him, large and warm and he’s pushing him back into the bed.

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“Uh. You don’t have to…”

“Pete… let me. Please.”

Pete lets out a sigh, and it morphs into a groan of relief as Ice’s hands press into the aching muscles around his spine, digging in and relieving some of the aching pressure that’s built up. He slumps a little bit more into the bed, feels Tom press a kiss to his shoulder and he wonders if he’s angling for sex. He’s not averse to the idea at all, would be more onboard if the pain wasn’t quite as distracting as it is. Although the longer Tom massages his back the more the pain slips away.

“It’s not like I mind doing this. Not really. I don’t have anywhere I need to be…”

“You’re a perverted old man…”

“Mmm. I am. Can’t keep my hands off you. Even when our bodies are falling apart…”

“At least they’re falling apart together.”

“That’s almost poetic Mav…”

“I should take up poetry.”

“I’d love to read it.”

… … …

He tries not to feel insecure about it, but when he hears Jake end the call with bye mom, love you his heart twists painfully. Jake hasn’t talked about his family at all. Bradley doesn’t know anything about them. He doesn’t know why Jake hasn’t mentioned them; if it’s some misplaced sense of guilt that his mom is alive and well, while Bradley’s mom is dead? Or is he embarrassed to be with Bradley? Or is it something else? He needs to know.

“Talking to you mom huh?”

“Yeah…” Jake says on an exhale, and he sounds tired.

“Um. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He’s lying. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it’s visceral and immediate, the knowledge that not only is Jake lying, but he knows him well enough now to be able to spot it without even trying. Why he’s lying is a completely different matter.

“Jake… please tell me?”

“How old were you when you came out to your family?”

“Uh… shit. I… I was still at high school,” Bradley laughs, hit with the sudden memory. “I told Mav I thought I was gay, and I knew then I wanted to go into the Navy and Mav was telling me that it’d be hard and I remember thinking to myself what would he know?”

Jake looks at him in shock.

“You didn’t know he was gay?”

“No! He’d married my mom. Ice was married to Sarah. I was a very self-absorbed teenager dealing with my mom dying and… yeah. In hindsight I can’t believe I missed it all, but…” he shrugs then, because he’s trying to get Jake to talk. “Anyway. They were all great. Supportive. Loving.”

“You’re lucky.”

“Yeah. I know,” Bradley says quietly. “Can you tell me?”

The look on Jake’s face hurts, and he knows he’s not the one causing it, wraps his arms around him and just holds him. Wants to say not to worry about it, but also feels that this is something, a part of Jake, that he really should know about going forward.

“I was back from my first deployment. Had my wings and feeling very accomplished and grown up. Figured I’d be able to survive if they kicked me out. I had places I could go. I was an adult. But… uh… knew kicking me out was definitely on the cards.”

Bradley doesn’t dare say anything, just leaves the space for Jake to talk, organize his thoughts, wraps his arms around him a bit tighter.

“They didn’t exactly kick me out, but they did ask me to leave. Haven’t invited me home. They asked me not to tell anyone else in the family…”

“Wait. What?” Bradley asks, confused. Haven’t invited Jake home? Since his first deployment? To not tell anyone else?

“Oh, they don’t want to disown a son serving in the great US Navy, but no one can know he’s gay.”

“Jake…”

“It’s fine. It is what it is. I just… I usually volunteer to take deployments so they cover the holidays… I call home and talk to my mom every couple of weeks, but…”

“Oh baby…”

“If I even refer to it, they just… ignore it, talk over it, or hang up on me. It’s…”

“Fuck. I’m sorry Jake.”

“It’s fine Bradshaw. Not all of us can have an idyllic coming out story…”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make light of my own life like I had it easy.”

“Looks pretty good to me from where I’m standing. Sitting. Whatever.”

“Just… fuck. Jake,” he huffs out a breath of frustration. “It was… yeah okay. It is good. Now. And it’s definitely better than what you’ve got to deal with. But it’s not a competition. I’m… my dad died when I was three. I didn’t get it for like… two or three years, that he really wasn’t ever coming back. Then I spent most of my childhood freaking out that Mav wasn’t going to come back from every single deployment. It kind of fucked me up, and then, the person who had been stable in my life? She got cancer and died Jake. In under a year. Just… gone. And I was lucky, because I got to live with Ice and Sarah and see Tamsin and Petra grow up, and I was included in their family in every way. But I was… they weren’t my mom and dad.”

Jake’s silent.

“Do you think they would have been okay with you being gay?”

“Uh. My mom and dad?”

“Yeah.”

Fuck. Given what Jake’s just shared this feels like taking a knife and twisting it, but he won’t lie.

“I know they would have been, because my mom introduced Ice and Sarah. Married Mav. Slider, uh, Admiral Kerner, he told me that they did that because there had been rumors. Anyway… I know I had it good. I’m sorry your family don’t accept you and love you like they should. See every amazing part of you.”

Jake hums under his breath and Bradley wonders what he’s thinking.

“You’re pretty well adjusted despite everything.”

“Oh,” Bradley snorts. “Trust me. I’m not. Or I wasn’t. Mav made me get counselling after my mom died and then… well. I went and got some more about five years ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I felt like I kept making the same dumb mistakes and figured I needed to work on that so…” he looks at Jake, his stomach in knots because he knows Jake is one of the reasons he wanted to be better. Won’t quite share that with Jake quite yet, because he was only one of the reasons, not the sole reason. But being this open and honest is still a struggle.

“Well we can’t both be fucked up.”

“You’re not fucked up Jake,” Bradley murmurs, and Jake rolls his eyes. “And even if you were, doesn’t change anything.”

… … …

Bradley is a nervous wreck.

He’s not worried about Mav and Ice. They’ve met Jake. They both like Jake, even if he hadn’t saved them, Jake can really turn on the charm when he wants to. Ice already liked him before he saved both him and Maverick from being shot from the sky, and Mav likes the fact that he’s an excellent aviator and clearly cares about him; he is not going to ask which one Mav considers more important. It’s the other people he loves who he needs to introduce Jake to and have meet Jake in turn.

Tamsin and Petra.

Except Tamsin and Petra are used to spotting bullshit from miles away. Their moms and dads both passing on all their skills and Bradley should be better at it considering, because Melissa is queen, but he suspects she’s also used to patients maybe stretching the truth a little or lot depending. Tamsin and Petra though, they’ve been exposed to the worst and best of them their entire lives and he really wants them to like Jake. Wants Jake to like them, and he wonders if he’ll be a little irrationally jealous anyway, like how he feels about Coyote sometimes.

Plus it’s only been a week, but it’s Tamsin’s birthday so she’s coming home for the weekend, along with Petra, and it’s not Thanksgiving, but it’s still a family gathering and he’s bringing… he’s bringing Jake. It feels important.

“Calm the fuck down. What are you so worried about?”

“I just… I really want them to like you. And for you to like them.”

“I’m easy to like. They’ll love me. And I’ve already got something pretty major in common with them, so I’m not too worried about not having common ground…”

Bradley frowns, tries to think of what it is Jake could be talking about.

“Don’t hurt yourself there Bradshaw… I’m referring to the fact that they love you.”

“You love me?” Bradley asks dumbly, all his worries over the last day or so about saying the same words and feeling like it would be too fast and scare Jake away. Instead Jake is looking at him like he’s an idiot. “What?”

“You’re an idiot. Of course I love you…”

“Oh. I love you too.”

“I’m aware. You tend toward flashy gestures, or silent acts… I’m slowly becoming wise to your ways.”

“I have ways do I?” Bradley asks, imminently pleased by the fact that Jake is apparently learning things about him that even he himself might not be privy to. He wonders what exactly he’s said or done to make Jake so sure, wants to keep doing it. He slides his arms around Jake’s waist, can’t stop grinning at the fact that they just casually told each other they loved each other.

“You have very obvious tells once you know what to look for. And I’m looking.”

“That’s good… I want you to look.”

“Mmm. It’s no hardship when you’ve not got a bad side…”

“I don’t huh?” Bradley asks with a grin, wrapping his arms tighter and tucking his head into the crook of Jake’s neck to place a soft kiss, grins when he feels Jake’s body shiver all over and kisses him again, lets his moustache drag over sensitive skin.

“You know you don’t…” Jake says, and he sounds pleasingly breathless. Bradley wants to take him to bed and continue to make him sound like that, rolls his hips a little so Jake knows exactly what he’s thinking, but will say words as well, knows Jake will like hearing them.

“Mmm. Neither do you. Every part of you is good.”

“You’re so cheesy…” Jake mutters, rolling his eyes but he still looks pleased. Happy.

“Oh eww… it’s like seeing the parentals…”

He jumps a little at the new voice and he looks over to see Petra and Tamsin standing in the doorway watching them and he flushes a little, embarrassed. He doesn’t think they’ve ever seen him even kiss someone, because he just didn’t ever do that type of thing with Callum, and that’s the only previous boyfriend either Tamsin or Petra might remember. He forces himself to relax, to remind himself he has nothing to be embarrassed about. He’s in his own house with his boyfriend and these are his sisters.

“Speak for yourself. They’re fine. You’re fine,” Tamsin repeats to them this time, and Bradley grins at her, draws in a deep calming breath and untangles himself from Jake to give them both hugs of hello. Then he steps back to Jake’s side and wraps an arm around his waist again. Doesn’t want him to feel like he’s facing the three of them like some form of interrogation squad or weird interview panel.

“Tamsin, Petra, this is Jake Seresin. Jake, these are my sisters, Tamsin and Petra Kazansky.”

“You know, I’m thinking of changing my last name to Mitchell…”

Bradley is pretty sure that’s bullshit, because Petra is a shit stirrer. Of course, Jake’s eyes have gone wide as he looks at Petra, he quickly looks at Bradley, an eyebrow raised and he shrugs helplessly. It’s obvious if you’re looking, and Jake has all the pieces, even if Bradley hasn’t implicitly spelled it out to him the Maverick is Petra’s biological father.

“I won’t though. Dad would be all sad about it. So. You’re the boyfriend.”

“Yep, nice to meet you.”

“Hmm. You know he snores right?”

Bradley opens his mouth to object, wonders where the hell this conversation is even going. They’re not meant to gang up on him… oh. Wait. Maybe that might help a little.

“He doesn’t if he’s tired enough…” Jake says, expression deadpan and Bradley flushes, red-hot and immediate at the implication. Tamsin is laughing and he supposes Jake should start as he intends to go on, but a little of the harder tougher shell is there, he recognizes the layer for what it is now; Jake protecting his heart.

“Oh ew… gross. I do not need to think about you two going at it. What do you know about cars?”

“I know your brother is driving a better car now than ten years ago…”

“That’s a matter of opinion. An incorrect opinion.”

“What do you mean? I’m the one that told him he needed to get himself a Bronco…”

“Are you now?”

And they’re off, talking about cars and racing and Bradley had no idea Jake was even into cars that much, but Petra seems to be delighted to finally have someone new to talk to, and he has no idea if Jake’s making his opinions be the opposite of hers just to be ornery or whether it’s what he truly believes, but he’s grinning and then following Petra out to the Bronco and he feels something settle further inside him. They’re going to get on even better than he had hoped.

… … …

Bradley doesn’t ask for favors. Doesn’t ask for much. Has never asked him to use his name or rank for anything to benefit him; in fact has gone out of his way to ensure he never received preferential treatment. But he has asked for this, and Pete had agreed immediately. He’s not even going to have to do paper work. Easiest favor ever. The Dagger Squad have been trying to make Hangman’s new nickname stick, give him a new callsign. Pete was there on the carrier, he heard what Bradley had said, what he’d called Hangman while he was woozy with pain and shock.

Angel.

They think it’s funny. He supposes it might be, if they hadn’t been so close to death. He can look back now and know that they got lucky over and over and over. Having Hangman be called Angel makes a joke of the matter though, one he knows neither he nor Bradley are ready to accept. He doesn’t know how Hangman feels about it. Some of them are maybe joking about it to deal with the pressure, but he also can’t let their coping technique impact the mental health of others.

He also suspects Bradley doesn’t know or remember why they started calling Hangman Angel, but everyone has noted that Hangman doesn’t particularly like it, which might be why some of them are keeping at it. So he knows Bradley isn’t asking himself, but rather because he wants to make Hangman happy. Pete is pretty sure being reminded of the person you love nearly dying every time someone uses your callsign would be difficult. Along with the fact that Bradley could never call him angel as an endearment. That’s what he had realized when he’d heard the Dagger squadron members using it a couple of times. Bradley uses nicknames and pet names easily, making them up on the fly. He’s already heard him call Seresin baby and he’d quickly turned his head to hide his surprise. Pleased surprise, but still.

So he’s going to let them know in no uncertain terms that Hangman’s callsign will not be changing.

“Aviators… please take a seat.” Bradley and Hangman are notably absent, but they’re comfortable enough with him that they don’t hurry to obey, clearly feeling the more relaxed vibe he was aiming for. “Now, this is not a formal request, however I do want you to take what I am about to say to you seriously –”

There’s a cough and he looks up to the open door to see Ice standing there, just out of sight of everyone else. He’s dressed in his service khakis, which is odd. He hates those, but he looks fierce and impressive and Pete lets his eyes wander a bit before Ice coughs again, sharper, and gives him a look coupled with an eyeroll. Oh. Oh fuck. Yeah. Having Ice deliver the request, despite it being an informal one, adds a significant weight to it.

“Ah…” he looks between his husband and the Daggers. “Attention,” he states, and there’s some grumbling considering he just told them they could sit however when Ice steps forward the grumbling immediately stops and they’re all standing at attention. Natasha knows of course, and maybe Machado now, but everyone is looking a little unnerved.

“You can sit down,” Ice says, and Pete supposes he doesn’t need to introduce him. They all know who he is. “I’m just here to inform you that Lieutenant Seresin will not be getting a new call sign. Am I understood?”

There is a chorus of yes sirs and agreement and Pete is pretty sure this is overkill, but he supposes when Bradley asks for something they’re going to ensure it happens.

… … …

Tom knows Bradley is nervous, despite both his and Pete’s reassurances that everything will be fine. For some reason Bradley seems to think that Melissa and Sarah are the harder nuts to crack, while he and Pete are both of the opinion that it’s Tamsin and Petra’s far more scathing assessments which are likely to carry more weight. However Tamsin and Petra both report back that they like Jake, which is reassuring. Even if Petra had had some scathing things to say about his vehicle preference. He hasn’t yet had an opportunity to see them all interact, and while he knows travelling two weekends in a row is exhausting, Tamsin and Petra are both still young and seem more than happy to come home for birthdays and Thanksgiving.

Melissa and Sarah are completely charmed by Seresin, who has said charm dialed all the way up. Bradley clearly has to stop himself from laughing out loud when Petra calls Jake a suck up under her breath, because he just turns, waggles his eyebrows in Bradley’s direction suggestively and Petra is groaning. It makes his heart feel full, all his kids at the table for dinner, along with his closest friends and everyone happy. It’s good.

“Jake! Come have a look at the photo albums…” Tamsin says as soon as they’ve finished eating. Tom knows a ploy to get out of washing up when he sees one, hides his smile around his mug of tea, catches Sarah’s smile across the room. Seresin seems more than willing to look through the family photo albums, and he’s not quite relaxed around Tom, he’s definitely getting on well with both Tamsin and Petra. Bradley groans and mutters about making himself useful doing the dishes and Tom follows him through to the kitchen along with Petra.

“I like him. He’s good for you.”

“Yeah. He is. And I love him so… I’m glad you like him because it would have made future family dinners awkward as fuck.”

“What’s his family like?” Tom asks, curious.

“Uh… not as accepting as ours.”

“Oh shit. Really?” Petra asks, turning with soapy hands Tom has to duck out of the way of.

“Yeah. He still talks to them. But… uh. He doesn’t visit. Don’t expect to meet them at our wedding or anything.”

“Are you getting married?” Petra asks, but Tom is pretty sure his eardrums are ringing along with Bradley’s.

“Not yet we’re not… Jesus. Shh! I haven’t asked him. Fucks sake Pet… we only just sorted our shit out…”

“But you’re… thinking about it?” Petra asks, eyes wide and incredulous; she’s whispering now but Tom is pretty sure that that particular horse has bolted and no doubt dancing the tango in a field if Seresin and everyone else didn’t somehow hear her previous yelling.

“If it’s not him it sure as hell isn’t going to be anyone else for me.”

“That’s kind of sweet. Romantic.”

“Well, I’m coming up on forty. Had to sort my shit out at some point right?”

“Ugh. You’re so old…”

Bradley snorts and Tom pulls a face, shaking his head and leaving them to it. If anyone asks, he’s too old to wash dishes by hand.

… … …

Seeing Bradley with Seresin settles something inside him. That Bradley isn’t going to live a life surrounded by only family.

“Does he make you happy?”

“He drives me completely fucking insane. But… yeah. I’m really happy. Just… yeah. It’s really good.”

“I’m glad. You seem happier.”

“I was already happy Mav…”

“I know, I said happier…”

Bradley rolls his eyes but heads over to where Jake is sitting with Petra. Bradley has always reminded him of Nick, the moustache adding to the illusion when he decided to keep it nearly a decade ago. But he’s never seen Bradley in love before and it reminds him of the look on Goose’s face every time he saw Carole, or talked about her, or thought about her. He’d never seen that particular look on Bradley’s face until he watched him look at Jake Seresin.

“You see it too?” Ice asks, coming to stand beside him.

“Yeah. It’s a good look on him.”

“Mmm. I have to agree. Come on, we’re holding up the gift giving.”

Pete lets himself be led away, and they’re celebrating their family holidays, a combination of Christmas and Hanukkah with it falling over Christmas this year. Melissa is covering Christmas Day so they can all celebrate together today, the 30th. He knows better to ask Jake what his family are doing, simply includes him in all of their little family traditions and pretends not to notice the shine of tears when Tamsin had pointed out the newly added stocking to the hearth bearing Jake’s name.

2020

"Dude, I'm happy for you both... really I am. I just... I want you to know when Jake loves, he loves deep and long. Hell, I thought he'd never get over the guy he fell in love with back in 2009...."

Bradley cough-splutters on his drink.

“Wait. A guy from 2009?”

“Yeah. What? Shit. Has he not told you about him?”

“Um…” Bradley starts and he has a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. “Not in so many words.”

“Fuck. I didn’t mean to make trouble. I just… I assumed you guys would have talked about shit like that.”

“Coyote, Javy. It’s fine. I know about the guy. If he ever comes back you have my full permission to knock him over the head and bury the body. Okay?”

“Uh… okay. Yeah. Sure. Weird… you know him?”

“Yeah, we’re acquainted,” Bradley mutters with a wry grin as he watches Jake across the Hard Deck. Jake’s personality hasn’t changed, he’s still arrogant and cocky, confident in his innate skills. His tongue can still be on the sharp side, and he doesn’t suffer incompetence or fools, however he seems to laugh easier. But when they’re alone all of Jake’s armor just dissolves away to nothing as long as he’s careful not to put him on the defensive. They’re still figuring things out but it’s been good. Better than good.

“God. Go hang out with you man. Think they can see your heart eyes from space,” Javy says, shoving at him and Bradley grins, doesn’t need to be told twice. He strides across the bar and presses himself up against Jake’s back, hooking his chin over his shoulder where he stands watching Phoenix and Bob play pool.

“Jake… baby… princess…”

“What have you done?”

Bradley can’t help but laugh against Jake’s neck, the fact he knows him so well. Phoenix is making gagging sounds and he and Jake both give her the finger which just makes her laugh and give it back.

“I haven’t done anything wrong. Well. Not recently.”

“Okay…” Jake says, and the word is drawn out, drawling and suspicious and Bradley can’t help but laugh again.

“Just… I already apologized but I was made to realize just how much I fucked up. So I’ll just… keep being grateful every day that you forgave me for being an idiot.”

“Uh. What?”

“Just… something Javy said.”

“What did he say?” Jake asks, and he’s getting stiff in Bradley’s arms, even more suspicious and Bradley shakes his head, angles down to capture Jake’s mouth with his own and kisses him until he relaxes, lets his body slump and cover him.

“Javy just… he told me… about this guy… a guy you were really hung up on. How he really fucked you over.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” Bradley breathes. “Told him if he ever turned up again I’d help him bury his body…”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. You have to try knock some sense into him first of course.”

“God you’re an idiot.”

“Less of an idiot now than I was ten years ago…”

“Aren’t we all?”

… … …

He finds Tamsin in the garage with the punching bag and he wonders if he should even ask. She’s got tear tracks down her face, but she’s not currently crying; she clearly didn’t think she needed to go for waterproof mascara this morning. He walks a wide circle so she can see him, doesn’t want to startle her and get a punch to the nose. When she sees him she plucks her ear pod out.

“Hey papa…”

“Hey. Didn’t expect you here. Uh. You want to talk about it?”

“No. Yes. Maybe.”

Pete nods, wonders if he should call in reinforcements. He’s never been good with crying, although he’d like to think he’s gotten better. Matured. He’s just worried he won’t know what to say to make things right. He will always try, but sometimes he worries that he’s making things worse.

“Why are men idiots?” Tamsin bursts out, and thank fuck, that’s an easy question at least.

“Oh, it’s years of evolution.”

That makes her giggle-snort and he feels a welling up of pride that even through whatever she’s dealing with he’s made her laugh.

“Which one in particular are we talking about? Or is it just… men in general?”

“Ross.”

Ah. The boyfriend. He probably should have guessed. Although Ross hasn’t ever been a problem before. He’s been around for years.

“Oh. Do I need to provide an alibi?”

Again there’s another laugh and Pete leans against the workbench.

“Dad can provide an alibi for both of us if it comes to that, you and Bradley can help me bury the body…”

“And what’s Petra doing in all this?”

“Oh, she’d probably be the one to actually kill him.”

“That bad?”

“No,” Tamsin says with a loud sigh and Pete just nods slowly, because he’ll decide for himself.

“He’s just… he dropped out. Decided he didn’t want to study engineering after all and now he’s just… bumming around.”

“Okay… maybe he’s taking a while to figure his life out?”

“He dropped out six months ago. He’s been living with me, but he just… sits around and smokes all day and I hate the smell. He isn’t doing anything…”

“Is he maybe… depressed?” Pete suggests, trying to be even headed. For all he knows they could get back together. And Ross is, was, one of the nicer ones.

“I don’t care if he is. Depressed or not I deserve a guy who won’t –”

“Who won’t what?” Pete asks, wondering exactly how that sentence is meant to finish. His brain is offering up several possibilities and none of them are pretty. Shit. Maybe Ice will need to have an alibi ready. Not for murder, but maybe assault. Then again Tom would be right beside him.

“Won’t steal and cheat.”

“Hmm. Enough that you want to make a report to the police?”

“No. I kicked him out, went to my landlord and asked to change the locks and deactivate my spare security fob just incase. Then went to campus security and asked them to keep an eye out for him. Just said he might loiter around and make a nuisance of himself. I just… I wasted three years.”

“Oh. Oh sweetheart I’m sorry…”

That seems to set off the tears, and he just opens his arms and hugs her, lets her cry and pats her on the back as she mutters about assholes and time wasters and he lets his mind wander a little, what he can do that would maybe make her feel a little better when he realizes that there is maybe something.

“Just… I know you don’t like violence, but… give me a couple of minutes okay?”

She wipes at her eyes and gives him a nod and he races off to Ice’s office, finds a photo of the offending Ross and quickly prints out two copies, before returning to the garage with them. He uses electrical tape to stick one copy to the punch bag, and then, to the newly acquired dart board he sticks the other.

“There. No alibi required. And can I just say, if you want to talk to someone who can really commiserate about men being idiots, you should really talk to your dad. He’s had years of experience.”

That really has her laughing and Pete grins.

… … …

He doesn’t say the words very often. Not first. Struggles to say them to people who aren’t his family, wonders if he should tell Jake that that’s the case or whether he already knows. No. He won’t assume Jake knows anything. He’s said them before, repeats them effortlessly when Jake tells him first, easy as breathing. But he wants Jake to know. To be sure.

“I love you Jake…”

The smile on Jake’s face takes his breath away, wide and bright and the words are returned to him easily and he hopes his answering smile makes Jake feel the same way he does right now.

“I love you too.”

… … …

Fucking global pandemic.

What the actual fuck is his life now.

Everyone’s deployments are extended if they’re at sea, and he’s very fucking glad that the entire Dagger Squad are stationed together in North Island and their orders remain the same. Training, studying, simulations, flying, more training. It’s all still the same except not. The roads are emptier, shops closed, hospitals busier and Melissa and Sarah stop visiting. Tamsin and Petra both come home to finish their semester of study remotely, but Melissa refuses to let them stay with her and Sarah, insisting that they take her seriously.

So they do. It’s an unusual way of living, and the bubble they create is odd. Tamsin and Petra bouncing between his place, and then staying with Ice and Mav. The fact that there is Harley, Ducati and Ceccato is a bigger drawcard. That and Mav drags Ice away to the hangar every other weekend under the guise of doing maintenance. He’s pretty sure that’s code for alone time but he’s not going to probe. Ice sends pictures of them flying and yeah, that’s nice for them.

They’re asked to accommodate other officers in their homes if they can, so he invites Bob to join them, after Natasha and Coyote inform him that they’re going to bunk in together. That raises a few eyebrows, but he and Jake wisely both keep their mouths shut on the matter. It all happens so fast that he doesn’t really have time to tell Bob much of anything. He lets Tamsin and Petra know he’s going to have someone staying so they don’t take Bob out when they see him, but he’s reclined back on the sofa, feet in Jake’s lap when Bob appears in the doorway to the living room in his sleep clothes, eyes wide.

“Rooster! Bradley! There’s a… there’s a woman in your kitchen.”

“Blonde or brunette?” Bradley asks, a little distracted because Jake is drawing something on his ankle. He thinks it’s the outline of a dick but he’s not sure, trying to mentally visualize the image.

“Uh… blonde? Does…”

“That’s Tamsin. His sister. She must have come around late. Hair color wouldn’t have mattered. He’s got two sisters…”

“Oh shit. Yeah. Sorry Bob. Come let me do a proper introduction.”

Tamsin is standing and staring at the coffee maker as if willing it to go faster, and he wonders if she knows he’s set it up to make a large pot now, that she might be waiting a while. He goes over and gives her a hug and presses a kiss to the top of her head, because she’s all sleepy and grumpy, hair in a messy plait down her back and wearing her most comfortable sweatpants and t-shirt.

“Tam, this is my friend Bob. Bob, this is my sister Tamsin. Her and our other sister Petra are taking turns spending time here…”

“Robert. My name’s Robert… Bob is my callsign.”

Bradley blinks, not expecting the correction at all.

“Oh. Sorry. Robert Floyd. Callsign Bob.”

“Nice to meet you Robert,” Tamsin says, and she’s reaching out to shake Bob’s hand, smiling politely, although her smile turns more grateful when Jake shoves his half-full cup of coffee into her hands as he enters the kitchen as well. It sounds weird to hear Bob called Robert.

“Nice to meet you too. I didn’t realize Rooster had sisters.”

“Uh… shit. Yeah. Sorry. I forgot to kind of tell you about my family…”

Jake snorts and Bradley rolls his eyes, pokes out his tongue which just makes Jake grin at him.

“I love our family. Our parents. Really. I do. I know how lucky I am to be so wanted, loved and supported. But seriously, if I have to deal with Papa’s hovering for another hour I’m going to snap.”

Bradley snorts, because they’d stayed home this weekend rather than going to the hangar, and the shelter in place order is making Mav a little stir-crazy and making it everyone else’s problem. Hopefully Ice will take him out to the hangar so he can fly.

“You’re, uh. Dads?” Bob asks, looking between Bradley and Tamsin, and Jake is wearing a shit-eating grin, clearly entertained and Bradley groans.

“Shit. Knew I forgot to tell you. Sorry, with the whole… lockdown thing. Admiral Kazansky is –”

“My dad.”

“And Mav is her –”

“Papa.”

“Are you going to let me finish my own –”

“Sandwiches!” Tamsin singsongs and Bradley groans and Bob looks amused.

“So it’s not just me and Jake in our bubble. You’ll actually get a fair amount of choice. There’s us here, and then Mav and Ice at their place. Tamsin and Petra switching between the two. So… seven of us between two houses. And the base.”

“Oh. That’s… that’s really good. Uh. Is there… do you have a mom?”

“Of course. I have two of them as well. Mom and Mama. Sarah and Melissa. Mom used to be married to Dad, but it was all, like, a cover story. Pretty romantic really…”

Bob is blinking and Bradley exchanges a look with Jake, because he’s glad Tamsin somehow thinks that Ice having to hide his feelings and emotions to Mav by marrying and having kids with a woman is somehow romantic… Ugh. He guesses they’re pretty extreme lengths, and Tamsin and Petra wouldn’t exist otherwise. But still. The coffee has finished and Jake pours himself a new mug, topping up Tamsin’s and then silently asking Bradley if he wants more and he shakes his head, unable to hide his smile though with the realization that they’re silently communicating in a way he’s used to seeing between Sarah and Melissa as well as Mav and Ice.

… … …

Tom is glad to be retired. Because he has Zoom calls with his replacement and listens to how he has to deal with everything and is so infinitely glad that it’s no longer any of his concern. A global pandemic was never something he thought he’d have to manage, and he’s glad it’s not officially his problem. He looks up to see Seresin standing in the doorway to his study and he waves him in.

“Sir…”

“You can just call me Tom. I’m retired. Well. Mostly. It’s in process…”

“Uh. Sorry. I call my own father sir…”

“Oh,” Tom says, surprised. Not only is it the first time Jake has mentioned his family, but the idea of any of his children calling him sir makes him feel uncomfortable. Even Bradley only ever did so when there were other people around and they were both in uniform.

“Was there something I could help you with?”

“I just… sorry. Do you remember when we first met?”

Tom leans back and nods.

“2011. On board the Carl Vinson. We had dinner. I believe we all had steak because I was eating with you all.”

“You had dinner with everyone who was in the class of 2010. I just… I wondered if you had any particular reason for that sir.”

Smart boy Tom thinks to himself, and he nods again, waves a finger at the chair opposite his desk and Jake obligingly sits.

“You’re wondering if it was a coincidence,” Tom states, and Seresin is nodding. “You’re right to question it, because no, it wasn’t a coincidence at all.”

“So Bradley had told you about me?”

“Not you specifically, no. We had a conversation around the matter, DADT, and…” Tom frowns then, tries and remembers what advice he had given Bradley. “I had my suspicions…”

“Oh.”

“Never did anything about them of course. Didn’t need to once DADT was repealed. However observation skills and following your gut are… useful. As is keeping meticulous and coded notes of everything you learn through the grapevine.”

“Notes sir?”

“Mmm. I have dozens of notebooks. They’d be quite damning if they fell into the wrong hands. If they figured out my code anyway. I believe Aubrey may have gotten close before deciding she’d rather not know.”

“Who is Aubrey?”

“My assistant. Ex assistant now I suppose. Invaluable. Would you like to learn it?”

“Learn… your code?”

“Yes. I think you would become quite savage in your desire to protect those you love.”

Tom knows he’s judged the man correctly and he pulls out one of his notebooks, the one which actually details his thoughts on figuring out who Bradley’s potential ill advised hookup had been and knows back then he never imagined he’d be considering the man as his future son-in-law, however he suspects it’s only a matter of time.

Sure enough Tom finds he enjoys Jake’s company more than he thought he would. It’s not quite as easy as it is with Bradley, or Tamsin or Petra, but Jake is easy going and respectful, and not just to Tom, but to Sarah and Melissa. Not that they’re seeing much of either of them at the moment, Melissa insisting on them staying away from her with her working in the hospital and at such a higher-level risk of exposure with her work. But he’s glad of the opportunity to get to know Seresin better.

… … …

He and Jake are both promoted to Lieutenant Commander and he wonders just how much chatter is happening behind closed doors. Because yes, Ice might be retired now, however that doesn’t stop him getting phone calls, or consulted with big wide sweeping things. Bradley isn’t stupid. He knows Jake and Ice have developed some type of mentor-mentee relationship because Jake has the drive to try and prove himself. Bradley is finding himself more and more content with the smaller things now that he has Jake.

He’s not surprised at all when Natasha and Javy announce that they’re together and finally giving it a go. They both give him significant looks and he wonders if Jake is getting the same looks. It’s definitely something they’ve talked about, something that they want for their future together. Then Natasha is asking Tamsin and Petra to be her bridesmaids and Bradley doesn’t have time to think about that, he’s too worried about his future hearing loss.

2021

Bradley isn’t even thinking about it when he sees it. A ring in a shop window and his heart just… skips. He wants to buy it. Needs to buy it. Wants to see it on Jake’s finger and have everyone know that he’s taken, that he’s Bradley’s. He doesn’t think about it, just walks in, buys it and walks out, the weight of it in his pocket making him feel jittery with nerves. Don’t think, just do. Fucking Mav. Fucking Natasha making him think about it even more. He doesn’t head home, instead goes to Ice and Mav’s, nerves vibrating so much he can almost hear them jangling in his head. He lets himself in and goes and sits at the table closest to the kitchen and just stares at the ring he just bought.

“Uh… if that’s an engagement ring I’m sorry to disappoint. I’m a married man…”

“Fuck off Mav, you know it’s not for you.”

“You want to propose to him?”

“I… yes. I mean. I know it’s not been that long. But also…”

“It’s been nearly two years. That’s plenty long enough.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. That man’s world begins and ends with you. I know how he feels because I feel the same way about Ice.”

… … …

“You ever think about having kids?” Jake asks, and he sort of thought Jake had fallen asleep already.

“Um. I love kids… I honestly haven’t thought about having them though. It’s not like we’d accidentally stumble into having them…” Jake huffs at that, and Bradley can’t tell in the dark if he’s amused or annoyed. “I would love to raise a family with you Jake, if that was something you wanted. It’s… it’s not a deal breaker for me either way. We have kids, great. We don’t have kids, still great.”

“We’d make very cute babies…”

“Yeah we would,” Bradley agrees, and the image of a baby with Jake’s eyes and blonde curls lights up in his brain, Jake lying there with a baby sleeping on his chest and oh fuck, maybe he’s not quite as on the fence as he thought.

“How about we get married first…”

“How very traditional of you Bradshaw.”

“I’ll show you traditional,” Bradley mutters with a laugh and he blows a raspberry on Jake’s stomach, making them both laugh.

“What? You going to knock me up and force a shotgun wedding?”

“You want me to try?” Bradley challenges and Jake’s gaze goes dark.

“Always want you to try darlin’…”

2022

Tom isn’t sure what’s wrong, but Jake is pacing back and forth. Harley has given up trying to follow, has simply slumped down and is watching with his eyes. Tom would make a joke about wearing a track in the carpet but Jake is actually wringing his hands. It’s very out of character and he’d be worried if he didn’t already have a slight suspicion about what it might be about.

“What’s wrong Seresin?”

“When will Mav be home?”

“Did you want to call him?”

“No. No it’s fine. I just… I’ll wait.”

“Did you need to speak to me?” Tom asks, because he’d been under that impression, but is now a little confused.

“I, uh, want to talk to both of you…”

Bingo.

He hides his smile as best he can, glad then that he hears Mav’s bike in the drive, the garage door opening and closing.

… … …

“Ice! Jake!”

“In here!”

“Hey…” Pete greets, looks around for Bradley. Separating Jake and Bradley is something he’d maybe count as a sign of the apocalypse, and he glances at Jake, ready to ask where his other half is when he notices Jake looks decidedly pale, maybe a little green.

“Everything okay? You look like you’re about to be sick… Is Bradley okay?”

“He’s fine. I just… uh. I needed to ask you both something. I, uh, already asked the girls…”

“Smart move…” Ice says quietly, looking amused and Pete frowns.

“Asked them what?”

“I want to ask Bradley to marry me…”

“But isn’t Bradley…”

Tom starts coughing loudly and he’s flailing out, accidentally kicking him and Ice doesn’t even apologize. Pete glares at him only to find Ice staring at him wide-eyed.

Oh shit.

He understands the kick to the leg now.

“Sorry Jake. You were saying?”

Jake’s eyes are narrowed, glancing between the two of them; he’s been a part of their family for well over two years now, marrying Bradley will simply be a formality. However Jake also knows them all much better, knows when they’re hiding something, or trying to bullshit him. He’s definitely become wise to their ways and it’s been pretty great including Jake in their family. He pulls Jake into a tight hug, tells him to go right ahead and ask Bradley and then Ice does the same and Jake finally looks less like he’s going to throw up.

… … …

Bradley hasn’t planned anything big or romantic, although he guesses it’ll become romantic with retellings and nostalgia. But a walk along the beach, just the two of them, peaceful and quiet. He doesn’t even need to bribe Jake to leave the house to go out. They walk hand in hand and watch the sun creep closer and closer to the horizon, turning the sky pink and orange. He stops and turns, takes in Jake’s profile, bathed in the pain-orange glow of the sun and he wants to remember this moment forever.

“Jake…”

“Mmm… yeah?” Jake murmurs, finally turning to look at him and he smiles, steps in close, whispers the question he wants to ask against Jake’s cheek.

“Will you marry me?”

Jake pulls back to gape and stare at him, looking shocked. Like they haven’t talked about one day getting married.

“Jake? Baby?”

“You… but… I…”

“How are you surprised by this? We’ve talked about getting married…”

“Yes! But I asked Mav and Ice, and Tamsin and Petra!”

“Oh… oh that’s sweet of you.”

Honestly he’s surprised they all managed to keep it quiet from him.

“But… you…”

“You want me to take it back so you can ask me instead?” Bradley asks, biting his lip so he doesn’t burst into laughter.

“No! You can’t take it back. But… yes. Yes I’ll marry you. Oh my god you fucking asshole…”

“Yeah, there’s the Jake I know and love…”

“Put your damn ring on my finger Bradshaw…”

He slips the ring onto Jake’s ring finger, then brings it up to his mouth to press a kiss to where it now sits.

“Love you.”

“Yeah. Love you too. Can’t believe you beat me,” Jake grumbles and Bradley silences him with a kiss.

2023

Because Jake thinks he’s funny he insists on them getting married on Bradley’s 40th birthday. The reasons he lists off are annoyingly logical, but Bradley knows it’s also because it means every year from now on Jake’s going to be able to say Bradley’s birthday present is going to be staying married to him. He can imagine it all too easily and it just makes him smile. Jake totally steals Petra to be his groom’s woman, along with Javy, leaving him with Natasha and Tamsin to stand up with him and he gets dragged along for massages and manicures, sends photos to Jake telling him he’s missing out, only to find out that the others are doing exactly the same thing.

The ceremony is short, and it’s only about fifty people all up, and no-one mentions the lack of Jake’s family once. He suspects Javy has gone around and discreetly let everyone know the situation. He knows Jake tried to tell his mom. He also knows that she hung up on him and then didn’t answer his calls for five weeks. He doesn’t want to tell Jake what to do, but some days he really wishes he could. He’s standing on the side watching Ice dance with Tamsin and Mav with Petra when Jake leans into his side and presses a drink into his hand.

“I figured it out…”

“What?”

“Your threesome. It was with Phoenix’s cousin and his husband.”

“Jesus Jake, shh!”

“Oh shit. She doesn’t know?”

“No! Why would I fucking tell her that? I didn’t tell you! How did you figure it out?”

“Oh. Patrick came over and congratulated me, and the way he kind of wiggled his eyebrows and then winked at me made me think he might have first-hand knowledge of exactly what I was locking down…”

“Oh my god…”

“I mean. They’re hot. And nice.”

“Yeah. They are… but…”

“Oh, you’re far too possessive to let anyone else into our bedroom huh?”

“I… yeah. Sorry.”

“Oh. Don’t apologize. I like it.”

“Yeah, I know you do.”

“Mmm. Come on. Dance with me.”

… … …

“Huh. Can’t really call you Seresin anymore,” Tom muses and Jake grins.

“No sir, you’ll have to start calling me Jake.”

“When you start calling me Tom. Or Ice.”

“Deal. Who do you think is going to be weirded out the most?”

“Hmm. Tough call. But my money’s on Mav.”

… … …

The Dagger Squad are officially reassigned; however he and Jake are sent to Fallon together, along with Natasha, Javy, Rueben and Mikey. The others are sent to Corpus and given that Tamsin is based in Houston with NASA doing something with her software engineering degree he lets her know that the rest of the Dagger will be in her neck of the woods. She’s coming up 27 and he’d be a little intimidated by her if she wasn’t also his kid sister. She has all of Ice’s confidence and ability to command attention and he knows she’s going to go places. Petra is also in Texas, although she’s working on the mechanics of racecars and driving them. With both there he and Jake take a long weekend and head to Corpus next time they have leave.

It’s not the Hard Deck, but it’s still a Navy bar and when Petra walks in she draws attention; she’s wearing jeans and form fitting Wonder Woman t-shirt, nothing fancy at all but she’s still eye catching. Tamsin follows her, and she’s wearing a lilac-colored pantsuit, looking incredibly put together and he wonders what her colleagues think of her. Neither of them have seen him or Jake yet, and most people here are in civvies.

“You got a name gorgeous?” one man asks, clearly deciding to try his luck and Bradley has seen this type of interaction play out before, although never in a Navy bar. This ought to be good.

“I give names to those who earn them.”

“And what do we need to do earn it?”

“If you need to ask, then you’re already down and out.”

Beside him Jake is rigid and he puts a hand on Jake’s arm to stop him from going over, pulls him back and shakes his head slightly.

“Do not go there. They can both look after themselves. Trust me. Those newbies do not stand a fucking chance.”

“You sure? There are five of them.”

“Uh huh. Very sure. Made that mistake once. If they’ve been drinking it’s a different story, but even then, they just get vicious. Petra especially. Remember who their father’s are… Fuck. Think of Sarah and Melissa.”

Jake nods, but his eyes don’t leave Tamsin and Petra. Tamsin has spied them now, is fighting back a smile and Bradley rolls his eyes at her as she subtly shifts them closer.

“You’re hanging out in a navy bar near the base. Pretty sure that makes you base bunnies. What are you doing here if you’re not looking to…”

“Looking to what? Enjoy a drink in peace and quiet? You don’t think that maybe I’ve come from the same base?” Petra asks, and she’s toying with them Bradley realizes.

“We’re all naval aviators. Here for Top Gun. Do you know what that is?”

“Oh my god… she’s going to eviscerate them,” Jake murmurs beside him, but he’s grinning widely and Bradley ducks to place a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Yep.”

“I do know what Fighter Weapon School is, and I also know that it isn’t here in Corpus. In fact,” Petra starts and Bradley meets her gaze and she grins, vicious sharp, as Jake toasts her with his bottle of beer. “In fact, I think you’re the new flight school intake and that I have more flight hours than all of you put together at this point in time.”

A couple of the guys standing around look a little belligerent at that claim and he winces, hopes this isn’t going to end up in someone getting thrown out. Some of them are muttering about her not knowing anything about flight school and Bradley wonders what level of the stupid-barrel they’ve been scraping.

“My father is the retired Admiral Kazansky. Yes. That Admiral Kazansky. My step-father is the retired Captain Maverick Mitchell,” Petra provides.

“Oh god this is glorious,” Jake says to him quietly and Bradley has to concede that yes, it is indeed entertaining.

“My brother is Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, my brother-in-law is Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin. I think I have an idea of what flight school is. And it’s a far cry from Top Gun. Now, you gentlemen are stopping my sister and I from joining our brother and his husband.”

Bradley takes that as his queue and he steps toward them, Jake following and they’re not in Corpus for work, but the others don’t know that.

“Gentlemen…”

Almost as one they all stiffen as if on parade and he keeps his face carefully blank, notes Jake does the same, although Jake also looks a lot more calculating.

“Sir.”

“Hmm. Slightly disappointed in the welcome my sisters received. Be better.”

“Yes sir.”

“Have a good evening.”

“On the other side of the bar,” Jake adds, and there’s more yes sirs and mumbling agreement and they all move off, some with nervous glances over their shoulders.

“This is why I don’t like coming to Navy bars,” Petra mutters, and Jake grins at her.

“Petra, I am never going to want to meet you anywhere but a Navy bar from now on. That was amazing.”

… … …

“Bradley… I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, of course. What is it?”

“I’d like to offer my services as a surrogate.”

Bradley gapes, knows he must freeze because Jake reaches over and closes his mouth with a not-so-gentle finger on his jaw.

“That’s a hell of an offer Petra…” Jake starts, cautious, and Bradley is already shaking his head.

“We can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

Bradley doesn’t know what to say, looks to Jake who is looking completely shook. He knows Jake’s family would never, that he continues to be amazed by Bradley and his weird family dynamics but loves them all the same.

“And I know you would never ask. Which, again, is why I’m offering. You guys would make great dads. If that’s something you want to do.”

“Holy shit… you’re actually serious.”

“Of course I am. Mama is a doctor. I already talked to her about the risks.”

“Thank you Petra. We’ll have to talk about it. You can change your mind as well…” Jake says, and he’s gone stiff and formal, Bradley doesn’t like it, but he’s also used to it, a rarer form of Jake’s defense system.

“Oh. I know. Mama made me talk to someone. Several someone’s. Then said I probably wouldn’t change my mind until I was actually giving birth and cursing you both…”

“You… that’s… quite the bombshell,” Bradley mumbles, reaching for Jake’s hand and gripping it, feels Jake’s fingers grip back just as tightly.

“Well. I thought I’d tell you sooner rather than later. You’ll need time to figure everything out, because I’m only signing up until the baby or babies are born. I know I don’t want to be a mom.”

“You’d… do it more than once?” Jake asks, voice rough.

“Well, yeah. Of course. I can’t imagine growing up without my siblings. You need to have at least two.”

“Holy shit…” Bradley breathes. “Thanks Pet… we’ll, uh, we’ll talk about it and let you know as soon as possible, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

2024

Tom doesn’t know quite what Pete is upset and worked up about, but he’s used to waiting him out. Sometimes Pete doesn’t know himself what it is that’s bothering him, and he’ll bring it to Tom soon enough. He suspects it has to do with Petra being pregnant, although it’s early days yet and Tom has already dealt with both Bradley and Jake freaking out over the whole ordeal. He’d brazenly told them that this is the easy part, that it’s once the baby is born that they’ll really start freaking out.

Out of the four of them, he’s the one with the most experience of being around pregnant women. Of course, Sarah and Melissa are offering their own support, but Jake and Bradley have taken to asking any question that pops into their heads with no regard to how sensible or ridiculous it might be, or the time of day or night they’re sending the message. He’s taken to muting notifications, but leaving the ringing option on, because he does still want to be reachable in case of emergency. Asking his opinion between different formula brands does not constitute an emergency. Especially when the baby isn’t even here, is a good six or seven months away.

Bradley has put in his papers to retire from the Navy. That’s fortunately timed to finish in six months, which is just as well as Tom cannot imagine him having nothing to do between now and then. Jake on the other hand has been busting his gut working on another promotion and Tom has tried to get him to ease off a little. With both Maverick and Bradley out, it leave Jake as the sole active aviator with air-to-air kills and he knows the Navy is eager to keep him, and keep him happy. Tom is just going to need to teach Jake how to tweak those to get his way sometimes, and to know when to capitulate.

Bradley and Jake have talked about their plans, sought their advice about where to base themselves. Decided that North Island makes the most sense because while Bradley can and will follow Jake to those positions he’s deployed on land, but when he’s sent onto a carrier for months on end Bradley will be grateful for the support that he, Mav, Sarah and Melissa can and will offer. Especially when the second baby arrives, although that’s assuming Petra really goes through with this a second time, if Bradley and Jake haven’t changed her mind with their slightly unhinged behavior. It’s probably a good thing she’s in Texas for the next few months, insisting on working; she can choose to ignore them and Tamsin is there as well which is reassuring.

“I… do you sometimes feel like you don’t deserve the life you’ve got?”

“What?” Tom asks, looking up from the crossword and processes what he just heard; Harley stirs and looks at him with one eye open before settling back to sleep. “No. We’ve worked damn hard to have everything we have.”

“Just… I know. We’re so lucky. We’ve got this amazing family. I just… I don’t think I ever thought of Bradley becoming a dad himself. Something else Nick and Carole will never see. We get to become grandparents and they…”

“Well shit Pete… they didn’t get to be here for any of it, but it doesn’t mean we don’t deserve it. It’s not like we murdered them. And do you think they would want Bradley to be alone, or for us to miss out on it all. You were part of their family and always would have been if they’d lived.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I just. Bradley’s mine. I’ve always… he’s always held a special place in my heart. He’s my kid you know. Just… he’s going to be even more my kid.”

“Uh. How exactly?”

“He’s going to be the father of my grandkids… Our grandkids. I feel like I’m really part of their family now, my blood being tied into theirs with the baby. Holy shit. We’re going to have grandchildren Tom…”

“Oh Pete… come here…”

Pete doesn’t cry very often, wasn’t there for Petra’s birth or a lot of her childhood at all really, but he’s going to be around a lot for this. Doesn’t have any choice in the matter, unless he decides to disappear to the hangar for a couple of nights. He’s not going to tell Pete he’s being silly, emotions don’t work that way and he just can’t believe that he’s going to be a grandfather either. He had thought, assumed, that the joys in his life had been made clear to him and finite in their number, not that he might have new people enter his life.

Naïve of him he supposes.

Well, he’s got a few months to get used to the idea.

He can’t wait.

… … …

“Hey Tim Tam… what’s up?” Bradley asks, and she rolls her eyes at the nickname but he slides the packet of chocolate cookies and offers her one. Her and Petra are visiting for a week, bookended by two weekends. Jake is massaging Petra’s feet while they watch car racing and he’s well aware it’s their bonding time, so Tamsin hovering in the kitchen gives him an excuse and a distraction. He watches as she scans the wine rack and picks a bottle. He’d make a quip about her making herself at home but he suspects she bought nearly all of the bottles, and he’s always insisted they treat it like their third home. He can’t change up the rules on them now. He follow her out to the back garden, smile soft as they walk past Petra and Jake yelling at the TV, oblivious to them passing through. She’s obviously got something she wants to offload.

“How did you know you were in love?”

“Uh…” Bradley’s eyes go wide, because of all the questions he could be asked that is not one he even really has an answer to even now. “I don’t know if I’m the right person to answer that question. It took me years to figure my shit out. Maybe Jake would be better to talk to?”

“Jake isn’t my brother… you are.”

“I mean… Jake’s your brother-in-law. Okay. Sorry. I just… I really think he might have a perspective that would be more useful…”

“Okay. Can I just talk to you for a bit first?”

“Yeah. Of course. You know that.”

“Okay. So… I think I’m in love.”

Bradley bites back his first automatic response, because her shoulder punches hurt and she wouldn’t hesitate if she thinks he’s being a sarcastic shithead. It’s not always appreciated, not like it is with Jake and their friends.

“Okay. I didn’t… uh. Is this a problem?” he finally settles on asking, because he hadn’t even been aware she’d been dating or seeing anyone, and that doesn’t mean she hasn’t met someone and fallen in love.

“I thought we were just friends… but…”

“One of the best foundations for a relationship is friendship. You’ve known them for a while then?”

She nods then, chews on her bottom lip and she’s not meeting his eyes and that’s unusual…

“Tamsin…?”

“I just. I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love with a guy in the military…”

“Wait. He’s… he’s in the service?”

“Yeah…”

“Do I know him?”

“Yes.”

“Who?” Bradley asks, and the protective streak he usually ignores has just raised its head and he’s wondering who the hell it is that has Tamsin sitting here looking so uncertain.

“It’s Rob…”

“Who the fuck is Rob?”

“Robert.”

“You… you mean Bob?”

“I am not calling him by his stupid callsign!”

“Uh…” Bradley starts, blinks, because of everyone’s callsigns Bob’s is by far the least stupid he’s ever heard. Much like the man, really. And he knew her and Bob had become friends during lockdown a few years ago, that Bob has been based in Texas at Corpus.

“You know it’s not what he gets called at home right? All his family call him Rob or Robbie? Bob is definitely a callsign.”

“You’ve… you’ve met his family?”

“Um. Just through a video call once. They rang while we were having lunch and I told him to answer. So. Yeah.”

“Bob.”

“Yeah.”

He likes Bob. Will like him a lot less if he hurts Tamsin, but…

“If you have to fall in love with a guy then… yeah. He’s good. Nice. I like him. He treating you right?”

She rolls her eyes at that and Bradley blows out a breath, puts both of his hands up in surrender. Heaven forbid he care. Jesus. He keeps his mouth shut and wonders what he’s going to be like if he has a daughter. Oh fuck. Well. At least he’s had plenty of practice.

“Yes. I’m just…”

“Just what?”

“It’s not weird?”

“Weird how?”

“He’s… a bit older than me. Settled. Your friend and squadron member…”

“How long have you guys been secretly dating?”

“We haven’t. We became friends back in 2020, during –”

“When he was living with us. Yeah. And…”

“We just kept talking and then we’ve chatted and talked, had meals together whenever he’s been passing through. Then a couple of weeks ago he asked me if I wanted to go out for dinner and I asked as friends or something more and he… his whole face just lit up Bradley. Like I had maybe given him that magic of a Christmas morning as a kid? You know?”

Bradley does know, and the fact that Bob is looking at Tamsin like that, it making her feel special and magical and… like she could be his entire world.

“Yeah. Yeah I know… so you went to dinner?”

“Mmm. He’s… he’s so funny. And sweet. And so handsome…”

“Okay… you know Mav and Ice are going to have an opinion right?”

“Yeah. That’s the other thing I wanted to talk about. Robbie –”

“Robbie?”

“Bradley! Focus!”

“Sorry. Just, uh, go on.”

“Rob seems to think I’m maybe worried about tell them, and I’m not. But he might be, and he doesn’t want to ask permission –”

“Good,” Bradley mutters, and he still gets hit in the shoulder and he pulls a face. “I’m just saying! You get to make your own decisions!”

“I do! And we all know it. But I think he wants to show me he doesn’t care about who my parents are.”

“They’re nearly all retired…”

“You really think that matters?”

“No. I guess not. So… what? Bob’s just going to rock up to Ice and Mav’s and pick you up for a date all the way from Texas?”

“Oh… oh my god Bradley! You’re a genius!”

“Uh. Am I?”

“That’s perfect! Thank you!”

“No worries… any time,” Bradley offers, and wonders what it is he said exactly.

… … …

Petra and Tamsin are both staying for a week, splitting their time between the three different houses. Petra is currently at Bradley’s letting Jake pamper her, which is maybe helping his little freakout about his impending fatherhood of making it worse. Pete’s not sure, he doesn’t remember freaking out this much, however he also knew he wasn’t really the one who’d be primarily responsible. Thinking about Petra and the rollercoaster accident, being the first of them on the scene to comfort her and make sure she was okay, well, he likes being there for them all.

There’s someone at the front door. He grumbles under his breath as he heads towards it, because Tamsin is here, and Ice, and yet he’s the one getting up to answer the door. His attitude changes abruptly when he opens it and Bob is standing there looking equal parts steadfast and nervous.

“Bob. What are you doing here?”

“Evening Maverick. I’m here to pick up Tamsin?”

“Tamsin?”

Pete blinks. He wonders if Robert Floyd has any entries in any of Ice’s little notebooks he still hasn’t cracked the code for. He knows Jake has been gifted the notebooks, and taught the code and the idea of Jake Bradshaw climbing the ranks makes him smile.

“Yes. Your eldest daughter?”

“I… I know who Tamsin is. I just…”

“Sorry Papa, I was just finishing getting ready. Hi Rob…”

“Rob?” Pete asks, and Tamsin is there dressed in jeans and slouchy top, but her hair and makeup is all carefully done and she looks gorgeous.

“Tamsin. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. Shall we go?”

“Of course. Night Maverick.”

“Night…” Pete says, watching as Tamsin skips down the front steps, Bob’s hand on her lower back. “How long has that been going on?” he mutters under his breath.

“Who was it?” Ice asks, appearing in the door of his study and Pete waves wordlessly at the now retreating figures and looks at Ice.

“You have anything on Robert Floyd?”

“Robert Floyd? I… no. I don’t think so. Why?”

“He just picked Tamsin up for a date.”

Ice looks completely blindsided and it’s nice to have company there at least. He knows logically that they haven’t ever known details of any of Tamsin’s boyfriends prior to her bringing them home and them sitting through family dinners where he and Ice grilled them under the guise of polite interest. Robert Floyd though is someone that Ice can skip all those steps with. He’s aware it’s overstepping some boundaries, but he can’t bring himself to care. They’ve done it already for Bradley, doing it again for Tamsin seems easy. The door is already open.

Except it isn’t.

He’s retired. They’ve both retired.

Doesn’t quite have access to the same resources as he used to.

He could of course call in favors but… wait. What is he so worried about? Bradley and Jake will know Bob far better than any notes Ice might have. Plus Bob has already been around for several family dinners, he’s not going to be easily intimidated by them.

“Huh. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Neither…”

“Hmm. I’ll invite Aubrey over for dinner. Maybe have lunch with her on base one day this week. Maybe both.”

Pete grins, because there’s the man he knows and loves.

… … …

Tom comes home from lunch with Aubrey a little disgruntled. There’s nothing. Nothing. Robert Floyd has an exemplary service record, is skilled and well liked. Seems like a rule follower to the letter and he wonders if that type of person suits Tamsin, or whether he’s trying to press what he likes in Maverick onto her with how similar she is to him sometimes.

He’s just going to have to trust that she knows what she wants. She’s never hesitated in ending her relationships that haven’t measured up to whatever ideal she holds. It’s fine. She’ll be twenty-eight at the end of the year. Hell. Petra is having a baby. They’re all old enough and adults and he needs to stop worrying so much. He walks into the kitchen, can hear noise which tells him it’s where he’s likely to find Maverick, and sure enough he’s there, standing on top of the stepladder he’s dragged in from the garage.

“Mav… what are you doing?”

“I’m baby proofing the cupboard up here.”

“How is the baby going to get on top of the fridge Mav?”

“This baby is going to have my genes, we have to prepare for every eventuality.”

“And yet Petra never climbed onto the top of the fridge in her infancy. Just… deep breaths Pete. It’ll be okay. Kids are a lot more physically resilient than you think, trust me. We raised Bradley, Tamsin and Petra. A grandbaby should be easy. Its parents will be doing all the heavy lifting.”

“I know… I just…”

“You can worry, but how about we think

His little pep talk has stopped Mav putting child-proof locks on the cupboard even he needs a step ladder to reach, but Tom gives in to the allowing of foam on every sharp edge. Knows Mav is anxious and this is his way of dealing with it, however he’s not going to imprison all his belongings in cupboards even Pete needs a stepladder to open.

… … …

Bradley has never felt so ill-prepared in his life. Melissa has assured him that six weeks early is fine, that while it’s not ideal, there’s nothing to suggest anything is wrong. Despite all of that though he’s a mess. Tamsin is in the room with Petra. Melissa and Sarah are sitting with Mav and Ice across the room, because Mav looks as shaken and worried as he does. Jake’s knuckles are white on his knees and no matter how much Bradley tries he knows he’s not exactly a reassuring presence, his own nerves seeming to feed Jake’s and then feeding back to him. So they’ve settled on silence, not wanting to snap at each other through their joint worry.

Then a nurse appears, looking at a piece of paper.

“Bradshaw-Kazansky family?”

“That’s… that’s us,” Ice is saying, standing and waving a hand at them all and Bradley is glad someone is there to do the talking. The nurse looks at the six of them, clearly unsure how it works but clearly decides she doesn’t care enough to ask, although she does a double take at seeing Melissa.

“Mom and baby are both doing well. I was told mom would like to tell you the details. You’ll be able to all go in shortly, but I was looking for dad?”

“Dads,” Jake croaks out. “We’re the dads…” he reaches for Bradley’s hand and they stand together, taking a step forward.

“Okay. Well gentlemen, if you’d like to follow me?”

They follow her and he tries to pay attention so he’ll be able to find his way back to the waiting room but gives up. He’ll ask for directions. Then he’s watching Jake undo the buttons of his shirt, sitting back in a large recliner and the nurse is placing a diaper-clad baby on his bare chest, covering the baby with a flannel sheet. She’s saying something about regulating body temperature, and kangaroo care and it’s all turning to static in his ears because Jake is sitting there with their child on his chest, his hand resting on its back, thumb moving back and forth and eyes transfixed on the top of its head. He’s never seen something so amazing.

“Thank you…” he manages, quickly presses a kiss to Petra’s forehead. She’s grinning and looking pleased but tired, Tamsin is looking a little shell shocked and he wonders if he should ask or just be happy that the outcome is all he needs to know about. He goes and stands beside Jake before Tamsin pushes a chair toward him. It’s not anywhere near as comfortable as the recliner Jake is set up in, but nothing is going to make him move anytime soon. He runs his fingers over the soft fuzzy down on the baby’s head and then lets his hand rest on top of Jake’s, leans forward and presses a kiss to the side of his face.

“Welcome to fatherhood… you look good. It suits you.”

“Good. Not a look I’ll be getting rid of anytime soon. Yeah. I’m stuck with this one… Yeah, thank you Petra…” Jake adds, looking up at her with a watery smile and she smiles back.

“You’re both more than welcome. I expect to always be the favorite Aunt. Sorry Tamsin, you’re automatically relegated to second place…”

“I’m okay with that. Holy shit Petra, you were amazing… She was amazing.”

“We’ll take your word for it,” Bradley says with a smile, because it had been something Petra had wanted, neither of them in the room. He knows Jake had been a little disappointed, however he suspects all of that is forgotten now that he’s holding their…

“Is it a boy or girl?”

“Oh. Boy bits. Five pounds and five ounces. You want to hear his name or wait for everyone to be here?”

Petra had also asked if she could name the baby, considering she’s asked for very little else neither he nor Jake could say no. He trusted her to pick a color for his Bronco, he trusts her to pick a name they can live with, that the baby asleep on Jake’s chest can grow up with. The weight sounds good, he immediately wants to look it up, research average weights for premature babies.

“Wait… we’ve waited this long,” Jake says without looking up and Bradley shares a smile with Petra and Tamsin.

He snaps a picture of Jake with their newborn son, will send it to the Dagger group chat in a couple of days. Bob and Natasha will keep it quiet in the meantime, because they of course already know. Weirdly it’s Natasha who has had the hardest time adjusting to Bob and Tamsin dating, and given him the shovel talks to end all shovel talks. He doesn’t think Bob realized quite how close Natasha was to Tamsin and Petra, with her never talking about Bradley and his family out of habit despite being part of it for over a decade.

Then Mav, Ice, Melissa and Sarah are entering the room, promising they’ll only be a few minutes to the nurse, who is nodding and smiling. Melissa has immediately picked up the medical chart, and Sarah is hugging Petra with tears streaming down her face and Bradley assumes it’s happy tears. Ice and Mav both hug him, then Tamsin and Petra, once Sarah has let her go. Then they’re all looking at Jake and he looks up, and no-one is going to mention that his eyes look wet.

“You’re all here… let me introduce our newest family member. Mitchell Tom Bradshaw.”

He hears Mav suck in a sharp shuddering breath, knows what it sounds like when someone is hit with too many emotions at once and lets himself feel smug. He knew she’d pick a good name.

… … …

“They named him after us…”

“Petra named him. She loves you. Us.”

“We did good.”

“Yeah. We did.”

… … …

Even weeks later, finally home and functioning on less sleep than he’s used to, he will never get sick of the sight. Even better than he imagined, seeing Jake hold their son on his chest, tiny fingers curled around Jake’s index finger. He didn’t think he could love Jake more, that he could love someone else so fiercely and so immediately than he does Mitchell, but he does. His own happiness makes the tears on Jake’s face all the more shocking and he crouches down.

“Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Just… fuck them. I just… I’m always the one reaching out to them, making overtures and always having to make concessions to fit their world view. I’m over it. I don’t want our kids thinking that I’m okay with being treated like that…”

“Jake…”

“No. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. We have a kid Bradley. We’re married. And they… they don’t want to hear about any of that. They just care about my latest promotion. How much of me do they really care about if they don’t also care about the people I love huh?”

He’s so proud of Jake making Commander, knows he’s got his eyes set on the long term and he’s more than happy to support that. Bradley sucks his lips into his mouth, because he’s glad that Jake has finally come to that conclusion, but had also never wanted to push it. They’re Jake’s family after all, and he’s never met them. Will likely never meet them now. Jake has other family who do love and care about him and that’s who Bradley will save his time for.

2025

“I’m forty, I…is that too old to have a baby?”

Bradley opens his mouth, promptly shuts it again, is fairly certain there’s not a right answer to that question. Mitchell is sitting in his highchair, chewing on a rusk and watching them both with wide eyes. He’s never seen photos of Jake as a baby, but the green eyes and blonde hair make it obvious to anyone with eyes which of them is the biological father.

“Do you want me to call Tamsin?” Bradley offers, because he’s pretty sure a woman is probably the best person for Natasha to be talking to. “Callie? Melissa? Sarah? Uh. Petra?” he offers as a last-ditch attempt, because Petra is off racing in Australia somewhere and even before he’d have to figure out time zones he doesn’t think Petra would be someone with answers.

“You’re my best friend, fucking deal with it…”

“Uh. Right. Okay. You need to talk to Coyote. Uh. Chocolate? I mean, I can’t offer you wine…”

She laughs wetly and Mitchell laughs as well, high and bright and her eyes slide sideways to him and Bradley wonders if having an eight-month-old baby sitting there when you’re freaking out about being pregnant is a good or bad thing.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“Being a parent.”

“Yeah. I… I love it. It’s… yeah.”

“No regrets?”

“Oh, I have plenty of regrets, but not about this. Not about marrying Jake or leaving the Navy…”

“I just… Javy… he just… it was immediate. I don’t want him to propose because I’m pregnant!”

“He’s had the ring for over three years. He’s not proposing because you’re pregnant. Well. He probably is, because that clearly made him pull the trigger but he’s been waiting for the perfect moment to ask you…” Jake says from the doorway and both he and Natasha turn to look at him, Mitchell squeals with delight and Bradley feels his insides his just turn to warm soupy goop watching Jake’s face soften as he looks back.

“How’s my best boy… you been a good boy for daddy?”

“What?” Natasha asks.

“Javy. He’s all twisted up in knots thinking you’re going to end things with him.”

“I don’t want to end things with him!”

“Don’t tell me that, tell him. And ask him when and where he bought the ring. Man seemed to take lessons from the Rooster school of romance…”

“Hey! It got me you didn’t it?” Bradley

“Mmm. Despite my better judgement,” Jake teases and Bradley wraps his arms around him and hugs him tight, lifting him off the ground before placing a comically loud smacking kiss on his cheek because it makes Mitchell laugh.

“Ugh. How are you both still so sickeningly sweet.”

“We work at it,” Bradley replies with a laugh.

… … …

It’s harder to get everyone together, schedules and careers spread out over the globe. However, Petra’s twenty-seventh birthday seems to be the focal point for the family gathering this summer. It’s a big lunch, timed between Mitchell’s naps and Tom won’t admit that he also likes having the odd afternoon nap now, something that the cats and dog all seem to agree is a good idea.

Aubrey is coming, as is Slider. Natasha joining them is standard, however Machado will be coming with her, they’re apparently engaged and expecting a baby. And Robert Floyd is of course coming with Tamsin, Tom’s come to appreciate the quieter man, his calm assessment of situations and then cutting right to the heart of the matter. He understands now what Tamsin sees in him, other than the fact that he clearly dotes on her and thinks she’s amazing; a sentiment she for once seems to return. He’s glad, they both deserve good people.

Wait.

Is that a diamond he sees on her finger?

He has some questions to ask.

… … …

During lunch Pete takes every opportunity to steal away his grandson. He doesn’t need to, sees him frequently, however he loves the excuse to crawl around on the ground and play, even if his knees and back protest a little when he does it for too long. He’s not old yet and he can stretch it out.

“Wait. His name is Mitchell Tom Bradshaw? I’d like to remind you that I was your favorite uncle when you were growing up kid!” Slider interjects into whatever conversation he’s having and Pete feels smug.

“Only because my real favorite uncle became my dad,” Bradley says with a laugh, and then he’s saying that Petra chose the name and Pete’s glad the attention isn’t on him because he feels like he’s been sucker punched. Bradley has called him dad once or twice, the first time when he was a teenager and Pete remembers Bradley promptly bursting into tears. He’d thought that it had been a slip of the tongue more than anything else, not that Bradley seriously considered him his father. Stupid of him when he considers Bradley his son. He remembers at the time feeling a same of loss renewed afresh at the thought of Goose and he looks at Mitchell trying to chew on a rubber ball.

“You know what I’m going to do Mitchell? I’m going to tell you all about your Grandpa Goose…”

… … …

“So… you guys are going well.”

“We are. You didn’t have to run off to Australia you know. We weren’t going to try and give him back.”

Petra laughs at that, blows a raspberry on Mitchell’s stomach and shakes her head, smiling as he giggles and tries to crawl away.

“I know. It wasn’t just for my sake though. I wanted to give you time to bond with him. And I did lie around on a beach for two weeks. Mama made sure of that. But. You guys ready to do it again?”

Jake chokes on his drink, coughing and spluttering and Bradley looks at her incredulously.

“Are you?”

“I’m not saying right now, but maybe next summer?”

“Fucking hell Petra… we have the easy part. It’s your body you’re…”

“I’d argue that you have the harder part. A lifetime is a hell of a commitment. I don’t want to be a mom, but seeing the two of you like this? Knowing that’s because of what I did? I do want that.”

“Then we’re not going to say no. We’d love to give Mitchell a sibling.”

2026

Tamsin’s thirtieth birthday is a big deal, mainly because it’s also her wedding day. Jake’s already been warning Bob about the perils of having a partner sharing a birthday and wedding anniversary, telling him about how demanding and annoying people can be, making sure Bradley hears him, but it’s ruined by the badly hidden wink Jake sends in Bob’s direction.

“As long as you don’t pass yourself off as the gift every year you’ll be fine,” Bradley says with a laugh, kissing Jake on the cheek and slapping him on the ass as he swoops down to pick Mitchell up and throw him into the air. He’s a robust two-year-old, and they joke about his middle name being Trouble rather than Tom. Silence has become incredibly suspicious.

Petra is five months pregnant and has informed them that this pregnancy feels even easier; when Bradley expresses concern that he hadn’t been aware that the first one had been bad she just says she had no frame of reference then. She has no morning sickness, no extreme tiredness and also seems to be glowing the glow which people apparently talk of with regards to pregnant people. She does bemoan the fact that she can’t drink at her sister’s wedding, but then she shares a look with Natasha about how maybe that’s for the best and he wonders what happened there.

Natasha and Petra are Tamsin’s bridesmaids, while Bob has asked him and Jake to stand with him. It’s a full Navy wedding, and it’s been a while since he’s worn his dress whites, but they still fit fine. Tamsin’s dress is white with gold detailing and her and Bob both can’t stop smiling. Jake looks equally stunning and Bradley can’t take his eyes off him.

“I do love a man in uniform…”

“Well, you sure got a wide range to pick from here.”

“Only interested in one.”

“Yeah? Do I know him?”

“I think you’re familiar. Going to make the most of the empty house while we have it right? No chance of any interruptions…”

“I like the way you think.”

2027

“Ah, Uncle Ron… you were so upset about Mitchell not being name after you, I thought you should be the first to know. We named her after you…”

“Jesus kid, I was kidding…”

“Meet Slider…”

The look Slider gives Bradley is so unimpressed it makes him burst into laughter at the sight. Serve the man right.

“You’re not serious I hope, that’s a terrible name for a baby. Should have got Petra to name this one too…” Slider is saying, but he’s holding his arms out, ready to take the baby from Bradley, who doesn’t seem in any particular rush to let go of his daughter and Pete doesn’t blame him, he’s pretty sure she hasn’t slept anywhere but in someone’s arms since she was born three weeks ago.

“Well, we agree on that at least,” Bradley says, settling the baby in Slider’s arms. He notes that Tamsin is off to the side and discreetly filming with her phone. Good girl. “Her name is actually Veronica Carole Bradshaw. Closest name to Ron we could both agree on…”

“I… I was joking kid. You didn’t need to…”

Pete smiles, knows a little how Slider might be feeling; has heard Jake talk haltingly of how Slider had been his first CO after flight school, that he’d held the man in high regard before he’d become part of his extended family. He continues to stack blocks with Mitchell so that he can measure his height against them and lets himself feel the sense of happiness that being surrounded by his family brings him now.

… … …

He’s not expecting Jake home early, so when he hears the car he already knows something is wrong. Not usual or standard for a Tuesday afternoon. He doesn’t know what to expect, but Jake’s standing in the doorway to the garage and he looks pale, maybe a little green.

“Are you okay?”

“I… I’m… My dad’s died.”

Oh shit. Bradley doesn’t know what to say. Isn’t going to offer his condolences. Wonders how Jake found out, because as far as he’s aware Jake hasn’t called his family since Mitchell was born nearly three years ago.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

Bradley nods, supposes that’s probably a normal response right now and hands Nic over. He hadn’t realized it when they’d been trying to chose a name, he’d agreed with Veronica after hearing about Jake’s professional relationship with Slider, despite thinking it was a mouthful. Then he’d heard Jake calling her Nic and Nicole and he’d realized that there was his dad’s name hidden alongside Slider’s, and in calling her Nicole it’s a combination of both his parents’ names.

It makes him feel… it makes him feel.

… … …

It’s probably the biggest argument they’ve had. Jake insisting he go alone, and Bradley insisting the complete opposite. Held in hissed whispers while the kids were sleeping he’d finally asked Jake if he’d let Bradley go alone if it was him. That had made Jake waver and Bradley knew then he’d be coming. Bradley doesn’t want to go to the actual funeral, but he wants to be there, waiting for Jake, to wrap his arms around him and remind him that he’s not alone anymore.

He hears the knock on the motel door, loud, and he’s glad both kids are already awake. He answers it, Nic tucked up under his chest while she gums on her fist while her bottle warms up. Standing there is a woman who has to be Jake’s mother, the family resemblance is striking. With her is a younger man and woman. They also look related but Jake has never mentioned siblings and he feels uneasy.

“Can I help you?”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I was looking for…”

Well fuck. She clearly thought Jake had come to Texas alone. He knows Jake told her he was getting married, because she’d hung up on him and then not answered his calls for weeks.

“If you’re looking for Jake he should be back shortly.”

“Who are you?”

Well. He’s not going to lie. And if she’s here for Jake she can take everything that comes with him.

“I’m Jake’s husband.”

He can tell the words hit like blows, the older woman almost staggering back and he jiggles Nic a little. He’s torn between indignation that she dare come here, but also the other two are simply looking a little confused. They must have asked

“Daddy… I’m firsty…”

“Is your water bottle empty?” Bradley asks, looking down at Mitchell and he can see her looking. Wants to step to block her view. Mitchell has Jake’s wide green eyes and blonde hair, there is no mistaking that Jake is his father.

“Juice?” Mitchell asks, hopeful, and Bradley shakes his head, hides a smile.

“I’ll get you some apple slices,” Bradley says to him, compromising. He resists all his internal manners to not apologize to the woman watching them. “Would you like to wait for Jake?”

“Who’re you?” Mitchell asks, staring up at the now shocked looking woman.

She can’t just hang up on this, pretend this doesn’t exist. She might want to try, if she turns and walks away now, lets Bradley close the door on her. But she is still Jake’s mom and this is the first time he’s met her, dressed in stained sweat pants, baby spit-up on his shoulder. He doesn’t care, he doesn’t feel any need to try and impress her.

“I’m… I’m your Grandma?”

“Like Nanny Sarah and Granma ’lissa?”

Bradley bites his lips between his teeth, eyes narrowed and she’s looking between Mitchell and him with some sort of hope and sadness and he sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly. He might want to snap and snarl but Mitchell is right there.

“Yeah. Just like that darling. She’s Daddy’s mom.”

“Oh. Can I meet your mommy too?”

Bradley’s heart feels like it’s being squeezed tight in his chest.

“No sweetheart, she died a long time ago.”

Mitchell is frowning, and Bradley knows death isn’t a concept he’ll understand yet, vaguely remembers from firsthand experience.

“Oh. Okay. Maybe later?”

“No sweetheart. You can’t meet dead people…”

He really wishes he wasn’t having such a wrought conversation with his son in front of an estranged family member.

“Oh. Okay. Apple juice?”

“Apple slices,” Bradley corrects. “But you can have a glass of water to dip them in, okay?”

“Okay!”

Bradley wishes everyone was as easy to please, turns back to his audience standing just outside the doorway.

“I… look. I need to look after the kids. If you want to see Jake you can wait for him,” it’s June in Texas, and he hates that he’s about to do this. “Come in.”

“Sorry, I missed you name…”

Bradley uncharitably thinks I didn’t tell you my name but he smiles blandly, doesn’t offer to shake hands, uses Nic as a convenient excuse.

“I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Bradshaw… that’s…”

“Mmm. Jake took my name. He doesn’t have a particularly strong attachment to Seresin.”

“Oh. And… the children?”

“How about you tell me your names first,” Bradley offers, glad that for once Mitchell hasn’t decided to interject his name into the conversation, is happily dipping his apple slices in the cup of water and sucking the water off.

“Jake hasn’t talked about us?” the young woman asks, and he thinks she’s maybe a little older than Tamsin.

“Should he have?” Bradley asks, lets a little callousness bleed through into his tone, lets his eyes narrow toward Jake’s mom again.

“We’re his cousins…” the guy says, and he seems annoyed at the idea of Jake not mentioning him. Bradley doesn’t care for their feelings at all. He pulls the bottle from the warmer and checks the temperature. One-handed he does up a bib around Nic’s neck and then settles her back into the crook of his arm, offering her the bottle which she sucks on with gusto.

“Great. Jake’s never mentioned you. I think he was granting you all the same courtesy we were granted. Jake was told he wasn’t allowed to let anyone else in the family know he was gay…”

“What? That’s ridiculous. Who would tell him that?” the man scoffs and Bradley looks at Jake’s mom.

“Mrs Seresin, would you like to explain? Share where Jake heard that?”

Bradley feels a little meanspirited as he listens to her stutter out her reasons, and he supposes twenty years ago in rural Texas, with a staunch church-going community it would have been shameful if you cared more about public opinion than your own child. But it wasn’t a community the forbid him from telling, it was his family. Jake’s cousins are looking more and more horrified, and he still doesn’t know their names. And he can’t remember Jake’s mom’s name either. She’s fallen silent and her hands are shaking.

“I can’t make you anything right now, but please help yourselves to tea and coffee…” Bradley offers, nodding his head toward the kitchen. It’s all basic stuff, it’s not like this is their home, otherwise he’s fairly certain he wouldn’t have invited any of them in. Doesn’t know if he’ll ever want to invite her into his home. None of them move though.

“Babe, I’m back. I got the –” Jake starts, but he stops mid stride upon seeing everyone there. Bradley watches as Jake’s face shutters and he feels bad that he’s been ambushed, should have maybe called him and given him a heads up. “Mom. What are you doing here?” Bradley steps in close to Jake, leans in and gives him a kiss to the cheek all while continuing to give Nic her bottle. He refuses to make anyone in this room comfortable except for his husband and kids.

“You… you left the funeral before I could talk to you.”

“You don’t want to talk to me mom. You don’t want to hear about what’s going on in my life. You made that very clear when you hung up on me each time I said Bradley’s name…”

“What the actual… uh. Sorry.”

Jake’s eyes swing to his cousins and Bradley wonders what tales have been getting told about Jake’s apparent refusal to visit. What kind of character do they think Jake has to not let his mom come here alone.

“I think you should go. My number hasn’t changed. You can pick up the phone and call me just as easily as all the times I called you. I… I’m happy. I have an amazing family that all love me just as I am. If… if you want to try and be a part of that then… then you need to put in the work.”

Bradley feels so proud of him, can see his mom accepting his words and nodding and Bradley wonders what Jake’s life would have looked like if things had been a bit different. She’s making her way towards the door and Jake’s cousins are looking between her and Jake.

“It was nice to meet you Bradley.”

“Hopefully next time we can meet under nicer circumstances,” Bradley offers, because that isn’t actually a lie, and he still doesn’t know her fucking name.

“Hey man, sorry about the attitude earlier. I just… had heard shit. Not accurate shit. I’m Jackson. Nice to meet you and I’d say welcome to the family but… holy shit.”

That makes Bradley and Jake both huff, Jake shaking his head and Bradley shifts Veronica back to upright, passing Jake the bottle before deciding to switch and give Jake the baby. He can probably do with the touch and comfort and Bradley will save wrapping him in his arms for when everyone has gone.

“Yeah, wasn’t exactly going to roll out the red carpet…” Bradley mutters.

“Nah man, I get it. It’s sweet. Everyone just thinks Jake’s this asshole leaving his parents behind and doesn’t call. Most people didn’t think he was going to show for the funeral. Don’t think anyone is going to be prepared for the truth…”

“Can we tell people? Family I mean? Explain your side? I’m Joanne by the way… I… we’d… some of us would really like to get to know you. All of you.”

“That’s honest at least,” Jake says with a sigh. “Yeah, go ahead and tell people. No worse than them thinking I’m a neglectful son I guess.”

“We don’t care. Uh. We do care. But. Not about the whole… gay thing,” Joanne says awkwardly and Bradley wonders if Jake’s mom brought two younger cousins that she thought might be more accepting. A question for another day. Or maybe never. They’ll have to see how it goes.

2028

He blinks, certain he’s seeing things but the view doesn’t change. Petra and Tamsin, both curled up on the sofa, curled against each other just like they used to do when they were small. A different house. A different sofa. But it’s definitely them. There are dozens of used tissues strewn all over the table and floor and he moves quietly, needs to tidy them up otherwise Ducati will wreak havoc and it’ll look like a snowstorm inside. He isn’t surprised about Petra, she’s staying with them. However Tamsin and Bob are meant to staying with Melissa and Sarah, all gathered for Veronica’s first birthday party which is meant to be tomorrow. Or rather later today. Well. There’s nothing for it.

“Girls… you need to wake up…”

“Dad?”

“Yeah… It’s after midnight. Time for bed. The spare room is made up as well.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome sweetheart. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Nothing a good cry didn’t fix.” He frowns at that, because crying has never equated itself to feeling better in his book, but Tamsin isn’t looking sad, instead she looks calm and relaxed, and he supposes she has been asleep. “You’re going to be a grandfather again. I was just… freaking out a little. Petra talked me through it.”

“Oh. Oh sweetheart, congratulations,” he murmurs quietly, because he knows they’ve been trying for over a year, hugs her close and then holds his arm open for Petra to join in.

… … …

Jake is promoted to Captain and Pete grips him in a tight hug, can’t begin to tell him what it means to see Captain Bradshaw adorn his name plate.

… … …

Catherine Seresin is joining them for Thanksgiving.

It’s taken over a year of careful phone conversations, some video calls and Bradley can concede that she has been trying. However neither he nor Jake want her staying with them, and he’s glad Jake said that first. They know she’s likely motivated by the fact that there are grandchildren in the picture, and he’s spoken to her on the phone a couple of times, when Jake’s asked him to answer.

She is standing there now, looking at the photos on the walls and nearly every ledge and shelf above three foot. There are professional family portraits and promotion shots mixed with more candid family moments. They all tell a story and everyone they love is there, including his parents. He can see her studying them, likely trying to make sense and put faces to names. They’ve shared photos of themselves and Mitchell and Veronica.

He has listened to Jake’s conversations with her, he’s also held Jake in his arms as he cried afterward. Wonders if she is aware of just how much hurt and damage she causes with her thoughtless comments. He knows he’s caused some of Jake’s past hurts, but he hopes like hell that they are indeed all in the past. He’s grateful that Jake trusts him enough to let himself cry and be vulnerable when he needs to be. Right now though Jake seems cautiously optimistic.

Thanksgiving is going to be big. The first time everyone has been able to gather together since Tamsin and Bob’s wedding two years ago. Javy, Natasha and their twins are staying with them, and he’s glad it’s only for a few nights, although Mitchell is having a blast with his younger cousins staying. Having them as guests gives them a plausible excuse to offer Catherine Seresin a room at Ice and Mav’s place, which she’d accepted with grace

“Trial by fire…” Bradley had muttered, because he doesn’t think Mav and Ice are difficult, but he grew up with them. He’s never thought about them from an outsider point of view before, let alone one who is sort-of homophobic. Ice and Mav both are incredibly protective though, won’t put up with any nonsense. Petra is also staying, along with Slider. Bob and Tamsin are staying with Melissa and Sarah, along with their newborn daughter, Natalie. The meal is going to be complete and utter chaos, but it will be full of laughter and love. The fact that Jake’s mom is going to be there is just something he’s going to have to deal with. Endure. Maybe it won’t be as bad as he thinks.

Mitchell and Petra are coloring at the table, pictures of racecars because they’re both obsessed. Petra has already taken Mitchell for a ride on a skateboard, much to Bradley’s horror and Mav’s cackling glee. Bradley wonders if he’ll go bald or grey first. Nic has fallen asleep on Slider’s chest as he sits back in his recliner, both of them content and Ceccato has joined the pile. Ice is making dinner, insisting that he doesn’t need help.

“You both look so handsome…”

“Back when they knew what a solid night of sleep felt like,” Mav jokes and Bradley rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. Sleep has become a hot commodity. “That was Tamsin’s wedding, so they were already experiencing sleepless nights with Mitchell.”

Catherine continues to look, asking questions of both Jake and Maverick and Bradley lets himself relax a little, knows he’s unlikely to relax completely until they’re back home.

… … …

Tom stands in the kitchen and waits for the coffee to finish. He makes a large pot when Petra is staying, certain she drinks directly from the pot. It’s also his habit to make two cups of coffee and then take them back to bed when Pete isn’t staying at the hangar. He hears footsteps, turns, half expecting to see Mav or may Petra. Instead, it’s Catherine, looking tired.

“Coffee?”

“I… yes please.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Tom says, passing her a mug and gesturing toward the creamer and sugar.

“Thank you. Happy Thanksgiving…”

It’s awkward, but he’s aware that she is trying. Has been trying. He knows Bradley doesn’t trust her, but his conversations with Jake about the matter make him think she’s simply been ignorant rather than malicious. They drink in silence for a few moments and he wonders what topics of conversation might be safe. Then Pete stumbles in and he feels relieved, given something to do. He pours another mug, directs his sleepy husband to a chair and presses a kiss to his forehead, well aware that he has an audience. Then Slider is staggering in looking grumpy and Tom sighs, pours another mug and sets the pot to refill.

“Mitchell, I swear you have all the grace of a herd of elephants…”

Pete simply grunts and Tom isn’t sure the other two are aware they have company.

“Mitchell? I thought your name was Peter?”

“Pete. Mitchell is my last name. Oh. Good morning Catherine…”

“Oh. Morning. I… I didn’t realize Mitchell was named after you.”

“Petra named him. Was her choice…”

“And a very good choice she made too,” Tom says.

“Petra… your daughter?” Catherine asks him, and Tom knows his surprise shows on his face. She hasn’t met Sarah yet, or Tamsin. Has no idea how much Petra looks like Pete. And how it’s very likely Jake hasn’t shared this information with her, either by simple omission or by choice.

“Yes. Our youngest. She offered to be Bradley and Jake’s surrogate.”

“Oh… I. I didn’t realize. Jake didn’t tell me.”

“He likely has his reasons. She… she knew Jake and Bradley would make very good parents. Wanted to make that possible for them.”

“That’s… very generous of her.”

“Yes. Her mother’s influence I suspect,” Tom says quietly, because of course Petra had been able to talk with her about it in depth.

“I look forward to meeting them both.”

2029

He wraps his arms around Jake, presses a kiss to the back of his neck as he looks out at the back yard, no doubt thinking about work rather than the yard work which they’d talked about needing to do. He presses another kiss, runs his hands over Jake’s ass, hums appreciatively. Glad it’s early in the morning and they’ve had a good night’s rest and have until lunch tomorrow to spend time together.

“Hey…”

“Hey. You trying to start something Bradshaw?”

“Maybe.”

“Ah. So you did have ulterior motives by arranging for the kids to spend the weekend at their grandparents…”

“It’s our anniversary…”

“No it fucking isn’t,” Jake counters, turning around to face him and frowning.

“Oh. No. Not wedding anniversary. I mean… today’s the day I saw you in the club, dancing.”

“You remember the date?”

Jake sounds skeptical and he guesses that's fair. Bradley would love to say that he does, that the date is seared into his mind. But that wouldn’t be true. He knew it was coming up through, and he has a record of all his stations and deployments, so he’d been able to look it up, so he can say with certainty that it is today. He kisses along Jake’s jaw as he explains, saying that he thinks twenty years is worth celebrating. That he feels lucky that he can pinpoint to almost the hour when he saw Jake.

“Bet you didn’t think you’d end up married to me…” Jake says, and he sounds a little breathless already.

“No. Didn’t think I’d ever get that lucky. Didn’t know DADT was going to be repealed so soon after. Had sort of resigned myself to a fairly solitary future…”

“Surrounded by your loving family. Very solitary,” Jake says dryly and Bradley shakes his head, presses Jake against the kitchen bench, grinding against him.

“You can be surrounded by people and still feel alone. I don’t though, not when you’re with me.”

“I haven’t felt like that since we sorted our shit out…”

“Which is coming up ten years now. Still an anniversary…”

“Such a sap.”

“Yep. I love you.”

“Mmm. Love you too.”

THE END

#Saga of Solitude #IceMav #Hangster #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction

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