#maybe after a full 24 hours of sleep for a bit of balance?

[nouvxllev]

CLINGYGRUMPYJENNA X READER!!

plsplsplsplspls

Summary: Co-workers in public, lovers in private 🙌🏼, while shooting for Wednesday, J gets really stressed, and craves for R's intimacy, but can't have that yet until break of dawn, so J basically gets sooo annoyed with anyone who tries talking to her that isn't R.

the waiting game

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: fluf, grumpy & clingy jenna!

a/n: caught basically the nastiest cold for a whole week, but im back! sorry requests taking too long, tryna to balance everything rn but it all will be done soon!!!!

masterlist.

Jenna hasn’t seen you in almost 4 hours, 36 minutes, and 4 fucking seconds. 

Yes, she counted, yes, it’s still ongoing, and, yes, she could almost murder someone with her bare hands if time even dares to pass by without you.

What makes matters worse is that she's terribly sleep-deprived even with someone's arms wrapped around her night after night.

Of course, the aforementioned someone swirling in her head 24/7 is you. Her not-quite-lover in public but entirely her beloved behind closed doors.

If Jenna had it her way, she would’ve jumped off a building by now and hard-launched the both of you by herself just so she could get hugs, kisses, and your hand intertwined with hers all she wanted.

Obviously, the universe decides to be a stuck-up bitch just now in their 14 billion years of life, wanting nothing more than to see Jenna Marie Ortega suffer without having you.

But it's fine.

She could get through this.

If there's someone in the world that could handle a single day without your warm hugs and lovely kisses, whether it be on the cheek or the lips, it would be her. She didn't endure almost half a year seeing that godforsaken Wednesday dance to go completely insane without you.

— Is what she kept telling herself 30 seconds earlier before she broke down and almost turned to witchcraft if you don't appear in front of right her.

She could push through with it, like she always does. It's a simple routine that never got the best of her.

Wake up and have breakfast with the love of your life while prepping each other with kisses and whatnot, run to set for the both of you to act out a scene for a while, when break hits all Jenna has to do is intertwine her pinky with yours under the table, then do hair and makeup after, act out a scene then wrap it all up, lie to everyone for the 100th time that her house is just a few steps away from yours, hit a bakery on the way home or maybe an ice cream shop if Jenna feels peckish, break down the apartment door Jenna shares with you, run to the bedroom, and smother each other with kisses and cuddles. Maybe a makeout session if Jenna's lucky.

It's bliss then repeat.

But today just so happens to be the day that Jenna takes over the whole episode, doing stunts and everything with little to no cuts for side characters.

She'd think that you would have nothing to do than act out your scenes—with her—might she add and it'll be all fine and the nights she'd spent waking up at 3 in the morning would be all's well.

But no, unfortunately you were the epitome of the perfect person and everyone just has to drag you around to who knows where to deal with some difficulties.

Plus, the both of you woke up late so she didn't even get the full girlfriend treatment she always got in the morning.

It was completely unfair!

Jenna was tired, grumpy, a bit too snappy, desperate for your attention, and she misses you. Alot.

And by that she means she misses the way you would wrap your arms around her after a busy day of filming together, pull her close, and feel the way how her lips fits perfectly on yours.

She would've dragged you back to bed and cuddle with you if she knew what was about to happen. Every second not spent with you is absolutely meaningless in her book.

Unfortunately, she has to play the waiting game.

She's fucking losing it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was 11 PM on a Thursday night.

Jenna is really so fucking tired, she could almost snap.

She had almost endured five to six hours of you nowhere even near her. The most she even interacted with you on set was when the both of you were acting a scene then abruptly got cut because of technical difficulties.

Plus, everyone but you was talking to her as if she was some kind of star! (she is.)

Jenna almost wished for an accident, or maybe a wardrobe malfunction that leads her to discovering some sort of new allergy about herself, just so she could be rushed off to the hospital and have you fussing over her, then maybe you could hold her hand and kiss her as if she would heal.

"How's it going, Ree—"

"Literally, I mean this in the nicest way possible, shut the fuck up Georgie."

He doesn't respond immediately, his eyes wide open as he steps back in surrender with his hands up in the air. "Ooooohkay!"

The brunette's head shot up immediately, her eyes burning and her shoulders slumped as she sank further into her chair for what felt like the millionth time.

"I... I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry." She closed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples, "I'm doing fine." She reassured herself more than anyone else, gripping the armchair for support.

"Biggest lie ever."

"You caught in Jenna's crossfire too, Emma?

"Oh damn, even Moosa?"

As if on cue, the whole cast decides to join in the damn conversation. Jenna loved them all, really, but it would've been so much better if a certain someone also joined and not far off into the distance talking to one of the editors.

Come on, would it literally kill you to question yourself why half of the cast was surrounding practically the love of your life while you're standing like 10 feet away!?

"You seem tense, J."

"Something wrong?"

"You've been staring at us for an hour with that Kubrick Stare of yours."

Who's exactly talking to her? Georgie, Emma, Moosa, it's all in that order but their voices seemed deranged, and it couldn't be any more worse when she's been trying to catch your eye for what seemed like the past hour.

She couldn't take shit when she's horribly missing you. So, she bites, and raises her voice more than she should, "Should I close my eyes to spare you the terrible fucking horror? Fuck, man!"

Jenna let an exasperated sigh escape from her mouth as she rose to her feet, eyeing the group with probably the most intense stare someone could bear witness to. She half-expected she'd get another pain-in-the-ass comeback from atleast one of them, but she was met with unusual silence.

The three look practically horrified, as if they were seeing the fictional idea of Wednesday Addams in the form of a 5'1, 22 year old woman dressed as her. Like they have the small but terrible quote running gears in their heads.

She heard them in unison muttering quiet apologies, "Sorry, Jenna…"

Her mind told her to forgive them for whatever they did, but her heart told her y/n.

"No, no it's fine." The brunette shook her head, her words forming icicles on each synonym and her eyes were like seeing inside of a storm. Without the peaceful atmosphere of an eye, clearly. "I'm just... stressed. Is Y/n free?"

Emma tilted her head to the side, "Actually, I never really saw them that much today, no?" She exchanged glances with the both of them.

"Heard they're busy with the tech team," Georgie crossed his arms, "Even for an actor, they've got a skill to be a director with how familiar they are behind the scenes."

Moosa nodded in agreement, "Yeah, they've been pretty tied up with all the technical stuff lately. Must be exhausting."

For fuck sakes, why did you have to be the most perfect and talented goddamn person?

"Why you looking for them?"

Jenna definitely did not need another goddamn voice entering her goddamn space.

She could almost roll her eyes and flip everybody off if not for Joy and the others being the most precious co-stars of them all.

"Because!" Jenna exclaimed, her voice cracking while lifting her arms in the air, "Y/n's my fucking lov...-"

Oh, shit.

"Lov...?"

"...Lovely neighbor." She blinked. "They... They bake me some cookies whenever I get in a bad mood."

Oh to fucking hell with this lovers in private bullshit. Lovely neighbor, that was the best damn excuse she could come up with?

"Well, heard they went home early because of an emergency, but it's kinda pouring out—"

It was in Jenna and Jenna alone on how insanely and horrifyingly fast she bolted out of the conversation, quickly changed clothes, thanking to the literal heavens (fuck the universe, Jenna will die on this hill) that Tim wrapped up early.

Josh. Josh was always the one you manage to bring up to be one of the most carefree guys in set, it's certain that he knew wherever the fuck you went. Actually, you always looked so happy whenever you talked to her about Josh and how much he lends with whatever left over set pieces they had, it's almost insane that you were—

"Aliyah, I'd tell you to shut up and fuck off as of this moment but I am literally too tired to even say that, what!?"

"Jenna, where the hell is your hoodie you wore on Christmas Eve!? I literally told you like an hour before your half-assed reply to tell me where'd you put your clothes."

Of course her sisters, more specifically Aliyah Goddamn Ortega, would find the most perfect timing to call her about the stupidest shit there could ever be.

"Okay, now, fuck off."

Jenna grimaced through gritted teeth as she hung up. She loved her sister, but does she love you more? Absolutely.

"Josh!" She called out, running towards him, "Sorry, kind of abrupt, but do you know where Y/n went?" Atleast she had some decency left in her to be polite to some.

"Actually—"

"Let one more word come out of your mouth not related to my question, and I swear, Josh—"

"Y/n left early, they told me to tell you but I guess I forgot."

Maybe a little too carefree.

"You fucking guess!?— I mean, yes, thank you. I’ll be going."

Oh, the waiting game is a pain in the ass.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You pace back and forth in Jenna's apartment, your socks making a dent in the fuzzy carpet in the living room Jenna bought when you moved in with her, a nail in between your teeth and rain pouring in the background.

How in the hell did you forget possibly all your devices on fucking set!?

Your phone was dead, and your laptop was unfortunately abandoned by its owner (yours truly) and you have no way of contacting your lovely girlfriend.

And worse of all, it was a little over midnight.

All this because you got a notification that someone was at the door for an hour.

And it was just a fucking cat. (To be fair, they were really cute.)

You were starting to worry, especially how it was pouring outside like there was a hurricane incoming and how you left early without Jenna intertwining her warm and soft hands around yours.

So not only did you leave all your devices behind, but you also left Jenna without any means of contacting you.

You almost cursed yourself, maybe even doing the most stupidest and financially unstable decision of ordering a new phone as if it was going to be delivered same day.

Until you heard a slight click and a door opening.

There were times thunder struck, but it definitely did not beat the way your heart almost leaps into your throat as you hear the door opening.

You pause in your steps, a deep breath stuck in your mouth as you cross the living room and peer through the door way.

The door swung open and you're met with the, one of the most gorgeous and relieving sights you may add, of Jenna standing there. Slightly damp and with an... angry? Expression on her face.

"Jenna!" You blurted out, rushing over to her and enveloping her in a tight hug. "Did Josh fill you in? I feel terrible for getting home early, I'm so sorry. There was this whole thing I had to deal with, then the rain came pouring down, and I thought I'd at least get you a cab—"

"Shh. Just stay still. And preferably quiet."

When she's in your arms, she melts in the warmth of the comfort you bring to her. "Guess you caught the cab." You whisper under your breath.

You notice her breathing slowing down, the tension in her body easing away, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she buries her head in your neck. A sway the both of you took upon as she tugged at your chest with her hands wrapped around your body.

Jenna felt and smelled like home. Maybe heaven really is real if you're back in her arms after death.

"Is everything okay? Did something go down on set while I was away? Oh, Jenna, I'm so—" You start to pull back, placing your hands on her shoulders.

"Y/n, push me away, I fucking dare you, I'll bring down hell upon this godforsaken world."

You hesitate, but her gaze wants nothing more than to be in your arms. Who were you to deny her?

With a gentle squeeze of her shoulders, you pull her back into your arms. You weren't much taller than Jenna, in fact, just an inch or two apart. You loved that about eachother, like the two of you were a perfect fit.

Minutes pass, the only sound of the soft rhythm of Jenna's breathing and your heartbeat became a melody to your ears.

"I'm gonna hard launch the both of us right fucking now."

Well, that definitely caught you off-guard.

"Something happened?"

"You weren't on set for like hours! And everyones got too damn annoying for my ears to even process so I was trying to look for you, but then I ended up insulting Emma and the others, then I called you my lovely neighbor because I almost ended up saying you're my lover so I had to cover for it!"

"...That's quite a handful. I'm sorry I wasn't there, baby."

Even so, you knew that Jenna wasn't ready for a public relationship, not now that everyone was currently holding her at a social and cyber gunpoint with her life.

And even back then, you were the first one in the relationship who told her that the both of you would be better off if they both kept it private.

Even from their friends... And maybe more so families. Or maybe Jenna's. It's pretty hard to keep secrets from her family.

Obviously, look how that turned out.

Finally, Jenna murmurs something. "Sorry. It's been a rough day." Then she adds, almost as an afterthought, "Just without you."

You could almost kill yourself of the mere thought of even having to leaving Jenna the whole day.

"I—"

"Don't worry, I know you were busy with tech."

"Yeah. They got me wrapped up in their troubles, but 's all fine."

"Ever thought beating the complete shit out of them?"

"Jenna, you can't just say that!"

"But they've been literally hogging you from me! And I think that's completely unfair!"

"But you really shouldn't. You'd probably end up getting destroyed, especially with your height."

"Oh, but I definitely should. Besides, we're the same height, Y/n."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Okay, you know what, tempting as it sounds, I don't think violence is the answer."

She scoffs another time, a crease in her forehead. "Well, it's definitely an option worth considering."

After a moment of silence, you carry her to the living room, her legs dangling as you lift her from her feet and settle her onto the soft-cushioned couch.

You start to pull away once you set her down, stretching your body after a tense day, yet a certain someone was making grabby hands for you while shooting a look with her eyes begging you to stay.

"Y/n, don't you want to stay here with me?" She pulls you closer, locking her legs around yours.

Oh, Jenna knows damn well you couldn't resist her.

"Jenna, just relax," you gently tug her legs apart with your own, letting them fall as she permits, "I'll just get you some water."

She tugs at the hem of your shirt, "Then I'll come with!" Her smile almost comes back alive and she's already clinging onto your arm.

"Jenna. The love of my life."

"Y/n?"

"You're tired, stressed, snappy, grum—"

"Okay, I am not grumpy or snappy!" Jenna bites back almost immediately. "Why does everybody keep saying that?"

You shoot her a look. A yup-thats-why-look, and it's enough to get a pout to form on her lips.

"Grumpy, and you're still damp from the rain. I wouldn't be surprised if you wake up with a cold in the morning." You gently pat her head before sitting her back down. "I'll be quick, alright? You know I'm not going far just for a glass of water."

"Fine," Jenna huffs, "But you better hurry back! Ten seconds, tops!"

With a smile playing on your lips, you roll your eyes before making your way to the kitchen. And of course, Jenna's gaze from the couch was following you. You know patience was never Jenna's strong suit when it comes with you.

It wasn't even a few seconds before you heard,

"Y/nnnn!" Jenna's voice calls out from the living room, almost sounding like a groan and a whine.

It's almost amusing how someone as seemingly nonchalant yet sweet as Jenna could also be this puddle of affection and clinginess when it came to you.

You chuckle to yourself before quickly making your way back to her, holding out the glass of water for her.

"That was well over ten seconds." Jenna remarks, downing the water in one go before setting the glass on the coffee table. Then, she pulls you back towards her, and before you know it, you're both collapsing onto the couch.

"Well, I thought I did great." You say before Jenna tackles you into a very tight hug.

Leaning back against the cushions, you let out a sigh, feeling the everything slowly melting away when she's in your arms. Jenna inches closer, resting her head on your chest as you wrap an arm around her, holding her close.

"Hug me tighter, y/n." She murmurs softly, almost demanding if she didn't have a soft melody to her voice, her body warm against yours and her breathing seemed to be in sync with your own.

"You'll die if I do." You sigh contentedly.

Jenna lets out a huff, her breath warm against your skin and her scent was all too comforting. That earthy rain smell and her aromatic fragrance. "You know that I don't mind," she replies, "Of course you'd think I'd care if I died in your arms."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You're impossible, Jenna." You shake your head once against, ruffling her hair as you give her an extra squeeze before loosening your hold slightly to let her breathe.

"You want dinner?" You whisper to her after, not even above a decibel just for her to relax. "I didn't get the chance to stop by at the bakery."

"Please," comes Jenna's response.

You know what a full-on smile with dimples from her sounds and feels like when she has that hopeful and happy tune to her otherwise grumpy voice today.

You slowly pull yourself back up, gently pushing Jenna off your chest. And also unknowingly pulling a koala trapped in a 5'1, 22 year old body named Jenna Ortega clinging onto your back.

"Jenna."

She buries her head into the crook of your neck, eyes half-lidded. "Mmm… Yeah?" It's honestly surprising how she can actually and literally attach herself to you.

"Jenna, you have to let go so I can cook." Even as you ask her to release herself, you adjust to her weight on your back, carefully making your way to the kitchen, your hands securely holding onto her legs.

"You can cook just fine, Y/n," she whines, "You have two arms."

"And you," you reply, gently patting her legs, "have two legs and two arms. I can't cook with you piggybacking, baby."

You can tell the nickname made her smile. "Yeah, but I don't have a built-in Y/n in my system that I can cuddle with all day. So please just let me be."

"No, Jenna—You're gonna get hurt."

You reach the kitchen and gently lower Jenna from her back, setting her down on the kitchen island.

Her arms still lingered around your neck for a moment before she reluctantly, and against her will so it seems, lets go. "You know how frantic I am when I cook."

"Then maybe, you're not a good cook."

"I'm trying to keep my girlfriends, which is you, may I add, life out of harms way."

"Maybe that's the reason why you're not a good cook."

"Jenna."

Grabby hands, once again, making a return and tugging you by your shirt collar. But this time, you resist.

"Whyyyyyyy?" she whines, her bottom lip jutting out in a Jenna Ortega fashionable pout. "Do you hate me, Y/N?"

You roll your eyes playfully before booping her on the tip of her nose. "I'm cooking you a meal to show that I love you, baby." You pull back yourself and put on an apron standing off side to the fridge, Jenna's gaze could almost burn holes into the fabric.

"Okay." She sighs, dropping her head down. "Okay, fine! Can I just hold your hand?" She looks up to see you standing in front of her, wearing the cutest apron with the well-known kiss the chef quote.

A faint blush spreads across her freckled face, and you couldn't help but smile at her.

You can't really cook with one hand that properly. But if Jenna wants you to cook for her even if you had your hands surgically removed from your body, then so fucking be it. A few missing limbs can't top a few smiles from your girlfriend.

"Alright, baby." You place take her hand and lead her to the stove where it seemed like you've got everything prepared. "Just get behind me when there's oil splashing, mkay?"

A few minutes pass by with Jenna's hand in yours while you cook. Her head leans against your shoulder as she stands close.

Between the two of you, Jenna was always the one who takes over the cooking part of the relationship, no matter how much you insist cooking for her. But you're grateful and very fortunate now that she's allowing you to take over. Plus, Jenna keeps you entertained with her witty remarks and random stuff about her day.

Oh, what a life you're living in.

"You didn't cook for yourself?" Jenna's voice interrupts your thoughts as you plate a serving of salmon topped with herbs, accompanied by sliced lemon and a few kiwis. With the skin left on, of course, just how she likes it. Only for your loving girlfriend.

You shake your head, taking her hand and her plate in the other, leading her to the dining table. "I'm good. I had a late lunch earlier," you reply, gently placing the plate on the table and sitting her down. "Besides, it's not often I get to cook for you. It wouldn't be as special if I cooked for myself too."

Jenna's eyes almost appear teary as she looks at you. "Please never show yourself again in public. I seriously cannot lose you." She replied almost immediately.

If you didn't miss it, you would've seen the adoration and love shining in Jenna's gaze. It's as if she wants to ditch the meal entirely and cover your face with kisses.

You swear you probably ate a seed in your chest by how you kept feeling warmth bloom in your heart at her. "How can I do that if I'm an actor?" You chuckle, "They'd probably question you first if I disappear."

Jenna takes her fork and points it at you, slicing a piece of salmon with her spoon. "Hey, I've seen the tweets about people practically drooling over you. It's like they're your lover and not mine!"

You crease your forehead, crossing your arms, "You get more thirst tweets more than I do!"

"And I believe you contribute to that percentage." She raises one eyebrow, smirking at your direction before chewing on another piece of salmon. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

A factual one at that.

You almost choke at your own words. "Oh, you know me so well."

A sigh escapes your lips, your smile still in place. "Besides, we're not exactly public, are we?" Leaning in, you draw Jenna into your own little world. "You're the only one who gets the real me. If I leave, I'll cross my heart on my own and I'll die on my own."

Jenna looks at you while taking a bite of her salmon, chewing slowly as if she's contemplating something, a tug in her lips. "Mn, guess so."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd think you'd get some work done, maybe memorize future scripts or send out some emails to directors asking if you could audition for a show at one in the morning.

Instead, you're lying in bed with Jenna.

Or maybe a koala in this case.

In bed. Blankets over the both of you. Pillow's a bit too comfy to even think about getting up. Plus, the koala in question may or may not have hidden your phone and charger.

Jenna wasn't always a light sleeper. Sometimes, you'd wake up in the middle of the night to find her sitting up with a blanket draped over her entire body, furiously typing away in her notes app. It's endearing, but also makes you wonder if she's ever dabbled in witchcraft.

Now, she's wide awake to even be one.

Her eyes closed and her breathing steady enough to lull you asleep. The atmosphere is cozy, and so is your girlfriend laying atop of you.

Her arms were wrapped around yours for the millionth time while her head rests on her favorite part of your chest, her head staring off to the side as if she's trying to hear your heartbeat.

You thought she'd be passed out after dinner, but she dragged you by the cuffs of your hoodie and lead you to the bedroom.

"Jenna," you whisper not above even the slightest decibel, "I have work to do." The gentle rise and fall of her chest steadies in sync with yours, her head tilting slightly in the other way, and the grip she has on your body suddenly got tighter. It's already as if you'll fly away from her.

She huffs as she raises her head to face yours. "Your work—whatever that is—can wait, but I can’t." The room is dim, too dim, yet you could see the slight dip in her bottom lip.

You know you should focus, but with her so close, it's hard to think about anything else other than, 'Nah, fuck it. I'll live.'

You bring your hands up to cup her cheeks, gently brushing her messy fringe away from her face. Even in this dim light, you could see her freckles scattered across her face like vines making something so abandoned a painting.

Jenna sighs when she looks at you. "Y/n, how long are you gonna keep me playing the waiting game?"

"The waiting game? What even is that—"

"Can you kiss me?"

Oh. Her eyes become almost second nature to her words.

"Because I remember being woken up to the most gorgeous person ever but they didn't give me kisses, and I think—mpmhmmh..."

It took all your effort not to pull her into a kiss.

Obviously, your efforts were in vain.

Truth be told, you miss the way her lips hung on yours, she was perfect in every way. How her arms would wrap around you, how she'd reach up to tug on your jawline, tracing every thing you had offered her, how you would push back only for her to pull you closer.

The kiss soon ended with you and Jenna locking eyes. No words exchanged but the heavy breath the both of you took apart from eachother.

"—I think I might die..." Her words are breathless, her arms perfectly secured around your neck as you sit up.

You smile at her. "Well, I kept you alive, didn't I?"

"No," she breathes, taking hold of your cheeks before sitting up herself. "No, I'm still six feet underground if you don't continue what you were doing."

"You know, I'm starting to like the waiting game."

"Make me play that shit again, it'll be the last time you'll ever make a decision."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

jennaortega

Liked by ememyers and 1,398,938 others jennaortega goodnight to my gorgeous gorgeous girl @.y/l/n x 6 hours ago

natalieortega1: My fav girls!

joysunday: what lovely neighbors we have here

ememyers: !?@#%%#?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

user: WE FUCKING KNEW IT

moosa_mostafa_: we never knew....

user: MY??????? MY???????? WHAT MY WHY MY?????????????????????

user: now how long....

georgieebleu: the coolest ever

user: WHATS IT FINNA PLAY??????

naomijogawa: two losers having a loser rs

user: having a heart attack holYHIST WHAT HT FUCK

user: literally stop.

hunterdoohan: Respect!!!!

user: shit so insane she got the whole cast to comment

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In short, Jenna won. Plus, she got all the kisses and cuddles she wanted until the alarm hit. (When it did, your name was surprisingly all over social media along with Jenna.)

[cutieodonoghue]

solace

summary: [mandomera week day 7: (alt prompt) modern au] 

Din and his nameless baby boy visit a 24-hour diner in Nevarro every night seeking comfort found only in Omera, a pregnant waitress with kindness in her eyes. (modern au with maybe some super ambiguous cyberpunk vibes)

word count: ~12.1k

rating: T (implied violence, injuries, and language)

read it on ao3 or down below :)

-

The 24-hour diner just off the highway in Nevarro smelled like coffee and grease. It was never busy, but especially not in the middle of the night. Mostly, vagrants and college students with nothing better to do would shuffle in and hunker down in one or two of the booths along the windows and order coffee that was always at best mediocre.

Din Djarin was neither a vagrant nor a college student. He often went to the diner in the middle of the night as soon as his jobs were finished, just before sun up when the rest of the world got started. 

It was easier to work at night. Darkness lent itself to shadows, where he could hide as he sought after his marks. It was hard to work during the day now that he had the kid anyway. At night, the kid slept longer, which gave him more room to operate.

Din entered the diner out of the pouring rain. It was rare for Nevarro to get a downpour, but the desert town desperately needed a refresher. Thunder rolled in the distance as the door swung closed and the welcoming bell chimed.

In one hand, he carried his sleeping baby boy, and carefully made his way to his favorite back booth with a view of the rest of the diner in full view. Seated, he looked out the window as the rain splattered against it in harsh gusts.

His throat went tight when he thought about the job he’d just completed. It hadn’t been pretty. Sometimes, he had no choice but to use his gun. He’d spent thirty minutes washing his hands and tried to push the thoughts of what he’d done out of his mind.

There was really only one way he’d found to clear his mind. It wasn’t absolution, and it wasn’t necessarily pure, but it brought clarity and peace that he craved. He’d craved it his whole life, but it was easier to seek out the darkness and hide in it to forget the brokenness inside of him.

There were glimpses of light in his life. It was most often in a nameless baby boy’s fingers wrapped around one of his. However, for a short time each night, a diner at the outskirts of town was a different type of light- one that shined brighter than the rest. 

Din snapped to reality in a sharp instant when a mug of fresh coffee hit the table in front of him.

His eyes went from the window to the pretty young waitress. Her hair was tied up, as it always was, and she greeted him with a small smile. Her figure was thin, with the notable exception of the sizable swell of her pregnant belly. She wore a name tag, but he didn’t need to read it to know who she was. Omera.

“Your burger’s on the grill,” she told him. “Can I get you anything else?”

He swallowed and felt the weight of the job begin to slide off of his shoulders. Somehow, she was the beacon of light that could draw him away from the darkness when it felt easiest to slip away into nothingness.

“No. Thank you.”

For a moment, she lingered with one hand balanced on her bump. She tilted her head and focused on the window, where the rain continued its noisy assault.

“I hope it clears up soon. I don’t like driving in the rain.”

“When do you get off?”

Omera drew her focus away from the window and looked at the clock on the wall opposite his table. “In about half an hour.”

Din reached for the mug of coffee in front of him and wrapped one hand around it. “I heard on the radio it’s going to rain all night.”

She sighed softly. “I might just sleep in my car if that’s the case.” Before he could reply, she smiled at him and nodded. “I’ll go see about your food.”

He watched her go. She seemed tired. More than usual. Stress informed the way she brushed loose strands of hair behind her ears, and the tone of her voice was a bit harder when he heard her talk to the cook at the grill.

Din sipped on his coffee and looked down at his son. The baby had so far slept blissfully through the storm, comforted by the sound of the rain and thunder. His little lips were parted and his fingers curled together in fists that he kept near his chest.

It was just the two of them. He’d found the kid while on a job, in a cardboard box on the floor of an abandoned warehouse. Din’s heart had broken listening to his cries. 

At first, he thought about bringing him into a police station or to an orphanage, but then thought better of it when he considered what had happened to him when he was sentenced to a childhood in the system. It was wrong to keep the kid, but it would be worse to leave him in foster care or a home where he’d grow up lost and alone- the way he did.

Din didn’t know much about raising a kid. He checked out books from the library to read during the day that lectured on practices and structures and how to’s. He still didn’t have a cradle or crib for the baby, even after a few months, but as soon as his next check cleared he’d set his eye on one he’d have to build.

“A plain double cheeseburger and well-done fries,” Omera announced. She set his plate down in front of him and then added a glass bottle of ketchup to the table. “Would you like anything else?”

Din lifted his gaze away from the plate and nodded toward the cushioned booth opposite him.

“Do you have time to sit with me?”

She seemed grateful when she sat down with a tiny relieved sigh. “How was work?”

He took a fry from the plate to eat it. “Job’s done. Glad I can move onto the next.” 

The beef and cheese between two buns were exactly the fuel he needed after a day like he’d had. He took two bites before setting the burger down on his plate. 

“How’s she doing?”

Omera looked down at her pregnant belly and soothed both hands over it. Her sweet dimpled smile was affectionate.  

“She’s been rolling around at all hours of the day. I have hardly slept lately.”

“It doesn’t get easier,” he replied, tilting his head toward the baby.

Din took a few fries and popped them into his mouth. As he chewed, he sat back in his seat, back pressed firmly against the fake leather cushion. Thunder rolled in the distance and he looked down at the kid beside him.

“He’s been sleeping better,” he shared. “You were right about the curtains.”

Omera smiled hopefully when he looked up at her again. “I’m glad. Are you sleeping any better?”

Din’s jaw clenched and he reached for his coffee. “No.”

He’d told her about his nightmares. Sometimes he couldn’t sleep at all because of them. He’d always been haunted by the ghosts of his past, but his job made it worse. 

Omera smiled and sat forward. “When I was little, my father told me that if I wanted to have good dreams, I needed to think about just one beautiful, wonderful thing as I closed my eyes.”

He wrapped both hands around his mug of coffee. “What did you think about?”

She laughed and tilted her head. “I don’t know. Whatever a little girl likes to dream about. Flowers and sweets and babies, maybe.” 

Din felt a smile twitch at the corners of his lips. His focus sat on the dark liquid within his mug. 

“Have you come up with a name?” she asked, changing subjects.

He slid his mug back around his plate and grabbed his burger again. “Haven’t had any time to think about it.”

Omera gazed gently at the baby. He thought, maybe stupidly, that she did so like a mother would. 

“I had a few thoughts if you want to hear them.”

Din swallowed a bite. “For the kid?”

“Yes,” she chuckled. “Who else?”

He looked pointedly at her baby bump and she covered it with both hands while she laughed again.

“I know I still have to come up with her name, too, but… I don’t know. I had a few ideas come to me while I was working today. I think of him often. A baby with no name is so…”

Omera didn’t finish her thought. She instead looked out the window when a bolt of lightning struck nearby. Thunder boomed, louder than the times before.

“I thought of the name Milo,” she shared. “Something simple. Just like you said.”

Din set the remaining quarter of his burger down and grabbed a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table to clean his hands. His focus went to the baby, who squirmed in his sleep. He reached down to adjust the blanket on him and considered the name carefully.

“Milo,” he murmured. “I saw that in one of the books.” 

Gently, Din allowed the kid to take one of his fingers into his fist in an effort to soothe his sleep. It worked.

“It’s a good name,” he agreed. “Milo.”

Omera gave an easy smile. She parted her lips to speak, but the bell above the diner door chimed before she could. Her hand pressed to the edge of the table and she slid out of the booth.

“Think about it.”

He nodded wordlessly and watched her leave to go help the newest wet and miserable customer. She was kind to everyone, but he had never seen her sit down with anyone in the time he’d spent visiting the diner. 

As much as he liked her, the idea of intimacy scared him away from a relationship outside of the one they shared within the walls of the diner. It was easier this way. He didn’t share too much about himself- about his job- and she didn’t have to, either.

Din finished his plate off clean and could only finish about half of the mug before it went tepid. He reached for his wallet and grabbed the bills he’d pay for the meal with before he climbed out of the booth with the kid in tow.

He found Omera behind the counter, working on a meal for the grumpy man seated on one of the stools facing her. 

She cast a look at him over her shoulder, eyes wide, and finished flipping something on the grill.

“All done?”

He held out the cash. “Tip’s included. Thank you, Omera.”

She wiped her hands on her apron and gladly took the bills from his hand. Their fingers brushed, naturally, and he couldn’t ignore the way it made his heart leap.

There was optimistic hope in her eyes that never failed to intoxicate him. He wondered if others could see it, the way she cared so deeply without any remorse. 

“Will you be back tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Same time.”

Just behind him, the bell above the diner door tinkled and he heard a familiar voice grumble, “It’s too damn wet out there to drive.”

Din turned to see the petite owner of the diner named Peli slog her way inside. She lifted both brows at Omera behind the counter.

“Alright, Mama, I’m sorry I’m so late, but I’m here now. You get yourself home and in bed. I don’t want to hear you say no. Get. I’ll clock you out myself if I have to.”

Omera laughed under her breath. “Morning, Peli.”

Peli looked at Din and the baby in the carrier. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Brown Eyes himself. How’s the kid? Still got no name?”

He shook his head. “Thinking about calling him Milo.”

For a moment, Peli considered the name. “Huh. Okay. I don’t hate it.”

She made her way behind the counter while Omera emerged from the back room with her coat and purse. 

“Get some rest, Omera. I’ll see you later.”

“Have a good day, Peli.”

Faced with a choice to leave before Omera or to join her, Din waited until she stepped toward the door to move. He grabbed the door handle and opened it on her behalf. 

“Oh, thank you.”

The sound of the rain quickly filled his ears and he was urged to move toward his car to prevent the kid from waking, but before he did so, he turned to Omera. 

“Do you want a ride home?”

She stared at him, surprised. “A ride home?”

“You sounded worried about driving in the rain,” he replied. “Do you want a ride?”

For a moment, Omera hesitated. A roll of thunder motivated her nod. “If you don’t mind.”

He led her to his car and expertly fastened the car seat into place while Omera slipped into the passenger's side. 

With the baby in place, Din stepped into the rain again and then opened the driver’s side door. Finally out of the elements, he turned the key in the ignition. 

“Where do you live?”

“Down in Sorgan. Just off of the highway, there’s a building.”

He nodded. “I know it.”

Din was careful as he pulled out of the parking lot. The rain pounded hard enough while the car moved that talking wouldn’t be an option, so they were both silent. 

There was a sense of expectancy, however, and he felt himself practically bubbling over because of that feeling. Here he was, driving the best part of his day home, and he couldn’t speak to her. 

As they drew close to Sorgan, the rainfall slowed to a light pitter-patter. He brought the windshield wipers down to a slower setting and glanced over at Omera. 

“I can pick you up before your shift,” he told her. “What time should I come get you?”

She turned. “I start at ten, but I’ll need my car earlier. I have a doctor’s visit at noon. I can ask-“

“That’s fine.”

Omera was quiet. “Are you sure? This is so kind of you. I didn’t think the rain would last as long as it has.”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

They pulled off at the exit to Sorgan and Din focused as hard as he could on driving. It was easy to get distracted and forget the purpose of the drive,

“Can I ask what it is you do for work?” Omera wondered. 

He felt his mouth go dry. His fingers curled against the steering wheel. 

“It’s… complicated.”

“Oh.” Silence for a moment. Then, she shifted in her seat. “Is it safe?”

He didn’t reply. His heart began to beat rapidly. Memories of the work he did flashed in his mind. The numbness he’d forced himself to feel when he hunted made him grow stiff in his shoulders.

“You came in last week with a gash in your forehead and I sort of regret that I didn’t ask what happened.” Omera’s words were caring and kind. She meant well by asking him what he did. He couldn’t be upset. “Most nights, you seem… heavy. I hope you know it’s safe to talk to me. We’re… friends. Right?”

Din looked at her briefly. The tension in his shoulders fell. His heart raced for a different reason.

Friends. Were they friends?

“Yeah,” he replied in a voice so quiet that even he could barely hear it. When he focused on the road ahead of him, he swallowed thickly in an effort to come up with an answer for her initial question. “I help find people. Sometimes… it gets messy.”

Omera was silent. The only sounds in the car were that of the rain gently pattering against the outside while the wipers slid in a melodic fashion. 

“Like a bounty hunter?”

His jaw clenched. “Something like that.”

After he turned into the parking lot of the apartments she’d directed him to, he looked at her. 

Omera glanced into the backseat, where the baby slept, and worry creased her brow. “Do you take him with you?”

“No. Never.”

He parked the car in front of the building and turned toward Omera. She had one hand against her bump. A smile spread wide on her face. 

“She’s kicking. Do you want to feel?”

He was surprised that she could move on from the topic of his work so quickly. Didn’t it bother her? He’d admitted it was dangerous work. She’d seen him with scrapes and bruises.

Omera surprised him again when she took one of his hands and planted it on top of her swollen belly. Sure enough, he could feel the baby kick and punch.

“Do you feel her?” Omera laughed happily. “It’s like she’s trying to get out.”

He chuckled at that. “Hope not.”

Omera rested her head against the headrest and sighed as he pulled his hand away. She was lit softly by the lights outside, a warm hue that casted shadows on her skin. In that light, she stared at him like she could see something in him that was good.

A little voice in the back of his mind told him it wasn’t true. He wasn’t good.

“Well, I think we should both get to bed.” She searched his eyes like she had all the time in the world to dwell in the moment with him. “Try to think of nice things. See if you dream of those instead.”

Din nodded. “Sure.”

Omera gazed at him. Long enough that he realized they’d both moved closer to one another, magnetized by the silence and a deep yearning from somewhere within. 

He set his eyes on her lips for a second too long. She closed the gap and kissed him. 

It was a quick kiss, but it was one that lingered just long enough that it meant something. 

Her fingers caressed his cheek as she pulled away. For a heartbeat, he latched onto the reality of what had just happened, but before he could fully process it, she opened the door and climbed out. 

“Pick me up at around 11:30?”

He nodded dumbly. “Yeah. Okay.”

She smiled. Closed the door. And then she was gone, on her way into the building with a hurried skip in her step. 

Din could only think about one thing as he drove home. 

She kissed him. 

She kissed him. 

He wasn’t the kind of guy that did this. Women didn’t throw themselves at him. He avoided close relationships. It wasn’t in his programming to be close with anyone. 

But she kissed him. 

Her lips had been soft. Her hand had settled on his face gently. It had been an act of genuine interest and desire.

Shaking it off as best he could, he parked the car and climbed out. Grabbed the kid. 

His apartment was quiet this early in the morning. The exterior lights helped guide him to his door two stories up, and when he was inside, he opted to just make his way into the bedroom without any fuss. 

His bed was a simple frame and mattress, set in the center of an otherwise empty bedroom. He set the kid down on the bed and set to preparing for what would likely amount to a short nap before the baby woke up and needed attention. 

His leather jacket discarded, he stepped out of his boots and then shimmied out of his jeans. He climbed into bed and laid down flat on his back with both hands pressed to his chest. 

Omera had kissed him. 

He wanted to know why. He wanted to know if she realized that he was broken; that he would never be able to give her anything she needed. 

Din put both hands against his face and exhaled sharply. 

It was times like these that he regretted giving up smoking. He’d decided to go cold turkey when he brought the kid home. Didn’t want to be a bad influence, and he knew it wouldn’t be a healthy environment to raise him in. 

The more he thought about Omera’s lips on his, the more he realized: he’d wanted her to kiss him. 

Din rolled onto his side and set the alarm on his night stand. 11:00 was optimistic. He knew the kid would wake him up in about an hour- maybe two. 

So he shut his eyes and tried to think about something good. Something wonderful. 

Omera. Her pretty brown eyes. Her long dark hair swayed in her ponytail when she moved. Her smile, a genuine bright spot in his day. She had a pretty laugh that made her eyes squint shut halfway if she found something funny enough. 

The way she looked sitting beside him in his car, the side of her head against the headrest while she so quietly analyzed him. 

Again and again, he thought about how softly she’d kissed him. It was like sunlight that seeped into a dark room; a wave of hope in a sea of despair.

He didn’t have any nightmares. 

-

Din held the baby in one arm and pressed the bottle to his lips with the other. It was almost time for them to leave, but the boy was incredibly fussy. 

He stared down at the baby’s face as he ate and pressed his back more firmly against the wall behind him. 

“I think I have a name for you. Do you like the name Milo?”

The child continued to suckle on the bottle, unbothered by the query. His little fingers curled into fists at the sides of his bottle. 

“Milo,” Din repeated. “Think I’m gonna call you that. Better than calling you kid.”

Once the baby was fed, changed, and dressed, Din took exactly four minutes to get himself ready in the bathroom just off of his bedroom. 

The alarm went off just as he returned, ready to go. He shut it off and grabbed his leather jacket, the one thing he never left home without. 

Milo was quiet, thankfully, as they drove back to Sorgan. He liked this little toy frog that Din had found at a local toy store. He’d suck on the limbs and squish it with all of his strength. 

Din parked in front of Omera’s building and thought about the kiss they’d shared just a short time ago. Would it change things? What did it mean? 

Several minutes after he arrived, he saw her step outside. Her pace was fast and she seemed frantic. When she got inside the car, she was out of breath. 

“I’m so late. I’m so sorry.”

He checked the time on his wrist watch. 11:48. Not enough time to make it to her car back at the diner and to her appointment. 

“Where’s your doctor’s office?”

Omera blinked at him. “Oh, no. You don’t have to. It’s my fault. I’ll just have to reschedule.”

“Is it the one in Nevarro or the one over by the movie theater in Tatooine?”

Omera was quiet as she buckled in and thought about what she wanted to do. 

He took a beat to study her. She wore soft colors, much different than the uniform at the diner. Most notably, she had left her hair down so it tumbled over her shoulders and back. Her hands lifted to tuck it behind her ears. 

Omera’s nose crinkled just slightly. “It’s in Nevarro. I understand if you want to take me to my car and get back to it. This isn’t what you signed up for.”

Din pulled out of his parking spot and set his internal navigation to the doctor in Nevarro. It was silent in the car, but he felt Omera’s presence. 

He looked at her briefly. Her focus was out the side window, on the landscape just outside. She held her hands together in her lap, as if nervous. 

“When I first found Milo, I brought him to see Dr. Karga. He’s a good guy.”

She looked at him with bright eyes. “Milo?”

Din nodded. A smile found his lips. “Yeah. It’s his name.”

They were quiet again. He remained unsure about what to do where it came to their kiss. 

“When do you have time off?” Omera asked suddenly. 

He focused on the road ahead of them and gripped the steering wheel a little bit tighter. “I don’t.”

“You don’t take any time to yourself?”

There was surprise in her voice, like she’d never heard of someone who would prioritize work so heavily that it consumed every second of time in their life. He did.

“Here and there,” he amended, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not an easy job.”

From the backseat, the baby made a happy noise. It made Omera turn, smiling at the child.

“Hi, little one,” she greeted. “I haven’t seen you this happy before.”

Din glanced up into the rearview mirror to check on the baby, whose little legs kicked excitedly at the attention Omera gave him.

“He slept well.”

She hummed warmly. “Did you?”

He looked at her briefly and nodded. “Took your advice. No nightmares.”

They pulled off the highway toward Nevarro, passing the diner and her car as they went instead toward the doctor’s office. 

She seemed genuine when she replied, “I’m glad to hear that.”

The remainder of the drive to the doctor’s office was made in silence. When he parked out front, he turned to Omera as she gathered herself to go.

“It shouldn’t take long. Twenty minutes, maybe.”

She gave him a little smile, shy and real. In the daylight, outside of the diner, she was different. She was human and flawed, just as he was. He liked it. He liked to see the softened features on her face.

Omera lingered. He could only think of the one other time she slipped out of his car. The kiss.

“I’ll be here,” he told her. 

She nodded and a soft smile spread across her face. “Thank you.”

For a second, he thought she might have something else to say, but then she opened the door and stepped outside. He watched her enter the office with a hand on her bump.

Din released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and sat back in his seat. He drew a hand through his hair and again regretted his choice to toss his last pack of cigarettes.

With Omera inside the office and Milo well-behaved, Din closed his eyes to nap. He took these windows for naps as often as they came. It was the only way he could function, even if it meant he rarely entered REM.

He woke to the sound of knuckles on the window and jolted upright, ready to grab his gun and fight. Instead, he saw Omera. She was locked out.

Quickly, he hit the unlock button on the door and gestured for her to enter. She pulled the door open with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry for interrupting your nap.”

He dragged a hand over his face and shook his head. “It’s fine.” With a tip of his head toward the office in front of them, he asked, “How’d it go?”

Omera released a sigh. “He said we’re both doing well. He thinks she’ll probably be full term. Maybe a little longer.” She gave a heavy shake of her head and rubbed her hand against her belly. “I hope not. It’s been a difficult few weeks.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that. He assumed she meant the symptoms of pregnancy had been difficult. From what little he’d seen of her at the diner, he found it hard to picture it being very hard. But maybe she painted life with a different colored brush there.

“Are you hungry?”

Omera turned, her eyes lit up with surprise. Then, she laughed. “I’m pregnant. I’m always hungry.”

He turned the engine over. “I’ll buy you lunch.”

-

The smile on Omera’s face was permanent. They sat in the same booth they’d shared in the middle of the night, but this time they were both covered in warm afternoon sunlight and Omera didn’t have responsibilities to pull her away.

He had his regular order, while Omera ordered grilled cheese with fries on the side. She sipped on her water and sat back in her seat, that smile ever-present.

Din chewed on a fry and tried to think of anything except for the way things had changed in the last few hours. 

He’d often come to the diner for solace that he found in a friend. He hadn’t meant to make friends with Omera, but she made it easy. In her eyes, there was kindness and goodness that he could never experience for himself.

“You kissed me,” he finally said.

“Yes.” Omera set her cup of water onto the table and her smile faded softly when he didn’t reply. She suddenly covered her face. “Oh, I feel so stupid. I’m so sorry! You didn’t want that at all!” 

Din sat forward. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel guilty or stupid. “Please don’t do that. It’s okay.”

She seemed embarrassed when she pulled her hands away. She looked up at him with sympathy.

“I’m sorry. I misread you. I didn’t mean to-”

He shook his head. “It’s okay.”

Omera calmed herself and looked out the window for a little while. 

Din couldn’t look away. She was beautiful, bathed in daylight with her hair let loose and free. She rested her hand comfortably on top of her bump and met his eyes. A smile itched at the corners of her lips. 

“I look forward to seeing you here. It’s one of my favorite things about this job. Maybe the best thing.” 

His heart raced. He swallowed thickly and parted his lips to say something- anything - but he was wordless. He’d never been much of a conversationalist. He was picked on as a kid for being quiet. 

“You and your boy,” she added, as if she wasn’t clear enough. “I like talking to you.”

He nodded slowly. “It’s nice talking to you.”

Omera’s smile spread. She grabbed her grilled cheese while he grabbed his burger. 

It was all out there between them now. They both liked spending time together. He tried to see a path forward, a destination for the youthful desires they shared, but struggled. 

Their companionable silence was broken by his phone. It rang frantically within his jacket pocket and he cursed as he fished it out.

“Can you keep an eye on him?” He rose to his feet as he drew the flip phone toward his ear.

Omera nodded easily. “Of course.”

Din walked to the front door of the building to take the call outside. 

“You’re ignoring my calls.”

“I’m busy.”

“Come by the office. You were sloppy with the last mark. We need to fix it.”

His jaw clenched and he stepped off the diner’s stoop to make his way toward his car. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“I don’t want excuses. I want to be paid.”

Din took a breath and held it. His blood boiled hotter than it should. He didn’t want to have to leave Omera. 

“I’ll be at your office in an hour.”

“Half,” his employer snapped. “And if you think I don’t know about the pretty pregnant girl you’ve been driving around all morning, you have another thing coming.”

He closed his eyes and bit down hard. “Why are you keeping tabs on me?”

“See you in thirty minutes.”

The line cut. He cursed and slapped the phone shut before he slid it into his pocket. 

From where he stood, he could see Omera inside. She had moved to his side of their shared booth and held Milo in her arms. With affection, she gazed down on him. Somehow, the sight calmed him.

He made his way back to them and as soon as he came to the table side, Omera looked up.

“He started crying,” she explained. “I think he just needed to be held.”

Din nodded. He wasn’t sure how to cleanly end their time together, so he reached in his pocket for his wallet and fished out the cash.

“I have to go. This should cover everything.”

Omera’s shoulders and expression fell, but she looked at Milo and dropped a kiss to his forehead. 

“Okay, little one,” she murmured. “Time to go.”

She tucked him easily into his carrier and inched slowly out of the booth, burdened by her pregnant belly. When she was close enough, Din offered her a hand to stand, and she took it with a grateful smile.

“I keep telling myself it will be easier when she’s born,” Omera sighed. “Just a few more weeks of this and it will be over.”

They stood close. The feeling of her hand in his was a weight he so quickly missed when she pulled it away. She looked up at him with hope in her eyes.

“Will I see you tonight?”

As much as he wanted to tell her that he’d be back, he knew better than that. He shook his head.

“I don’t think so.”

Omera nodded in understanding. She drew her hair behind her ear. “Thank you for your help, and for lunch. You didn’t have to. It was very kind.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stared at him long enough that his heart began to race all over again. It was wrong to get close. It was wrong to keep letting himself linger. She didn’t need someone like him in her life.

“We should go.”

He stepped around her to grab the kid from the booth. When he was ready to leave, he met her gaze once more.

She was the hope of a life he couldn’t have. Something quiet. Something good. Maybe one day. Maybe he’d earn that one day.

“I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted quietly. “I’m just not a good man, Omera.”

Omera searched his eyes. “You seem good to me.”

He shook his head. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

She fell quiet, so he nodded at her and took his first step to the door.

“I’ll see you.”

-

Din’s eye was bruised purple from a punch and his nose still had yet to stop bleeding. He’d thrown his shoulder out, too, but the baby had no understanding of that. He was exhausted as he’d ever been, worn in every physical and mental way, and he had to provide for his son as if he wasn’t. 

Sitting up on his bed, Din changed the baby’s diaper and discarded the old one in the bin he kept at his bedside. Once the diaper was pinned into place, Din grabbed a fresh onesie from their go bag- the last onesie- and carefully dressed his son.

He grimaced when the baby cried. Already, he’d grown out of his clothes, which meant in the morning they’d have to go find new ones. And diapers. New diapers, too.

Din hushed the baby and pressed one hand to his belly. It was quiet after a few minutes.

He sat back against the cool wall behind him and closed both eyes. A headache burned behind them, begging him to just get some sleep, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

Briefly, he wondered why he’d decided to take the baby into his life. It had been a hell of a lot simpler when it was just him. He hadn’t been distracted. He hadn’t lost sleep. He could smoke. Drink. 

“Shit,” he hissed when the alarm clock buzzed.

At least he could still curse. He’d have to work on that before the kid started talking, though.

Din slapped the alarm clock off. The red numbers indicated that it was 7:00, which left him twenty minutes to get cleaned and changed before they’d have to go to the doctor for a checkup.

Exhaustion pulled at him, yanked him down so he laid flat on his back beside the baby. He turned a little to look at the kid, whose fingers curled into fists on either side of his face.

He was so small. So innocent. He had a whole life ahead of him.

That’s why he’d taken him in. Nobody else would. Nobody else would make sure he had a chance. 

But was he going to be able to provide a fair chance at a good life? He doubted it more and more as work dragged him deeper down holes he didn’t like being in.

Din pressed his palm to the baby’s belly again and felt the warmth of him soak into his skin. He stroked his thumb in a gentle circle. The baby reached down and touched his index finger, tightening his small fingers around it to hold on. Din smiled softly at the feeling.

“I know I look pretty beat up, but I’m gonna be okay.”

He wasn’t sure if it was more to tell that to himself or not, but he felt a knot loosen in his gut when he said it. His eyes slid shut. 

Sleep came. He wasn’t sure for how long. 

When he opened his eyes, he immediately sat upright and checked. 7:49.

“Dammit. We’re gonna be late.”

Din climbed out of bed and fumbled into the bathroom, where he quickly discarded his white tee for another and washed his face with a single splash of water. 

He looked beat up. He looked miserable. Tired. His eye was swollen and his nose had probably been broken. 

No time to think about it. 

He grabbed a ball cap from the closet and slid it on over his unwashed, mussed hair. Then, he grabbed his jacket.

It was a short drive to the doctor, but they were still late. The receptionist gave him a nervous once-over while he stood there waiting to be called in, but said nothing. 

Thankfully, after a quick exam, the kid was deemed healthy, and the doctor was the only one who mentioned he might need to get his face looked at.

He drove to the store after. Diapers. Clothes. New formula. Food to last a week.

As soon as he had everything in the trunk of his car, he heard his name from behind him. His heart leapt and he physically froze in place. Omera.

He didn’t want her to see him like this. There wasn’t a way out.

He turned. She had a pretty yellow dress on and her hair was braided. She smiled at him with all of her teeth, like everything he’d said the last time they were together meant absolutely nothing to her.

Shit. 

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her. Immediately, he felt relief from the stress and pain. He’d tried to hide away, just him and the kid, in the hopes that he might be able to save her from everything wrong with him. 

Omera stepped closer and as she did, he avoided looking at her. Instead, he tilted his head down enough that the rim of his cap would cover his face.

“Are you and Milo doing alright?”

She sounded genuine, as she always did. She didn’t care that he hadn’t been by the diner. She just wanted to know how he was. 

Din cleared his throat. He nodded, but kept his head low. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

Omera was quiet, so he dared a glance upward. When he did, he saw her brow crease with worry.

“Oh, Din, what happened? Are you alright? That looks bad.”

He shook his head, too proud to tell her that it was agonizing. “I’m going home to ice it.”

She stepped close to him and touched his face so she could examine his bruised eye and nose. 

“It’s broken,” she said, worried. “How did this happen? Were you in a fight?”

Din grimaced when her fingertips got closer to his nose. “I just need to ice it. I’m fine.”

Omera pulled away. “Right. I’m sorry.” She took a small step back. “I’ve missed seeing you at the diner. I hope you’re not staying away because of what happened between us.” 

He shook his head. “Just been busy.”

“I understand.”

Din glanced at her pregnant belly. “She doing okay?”

In an instant, Omera’s face lit up. She nodded. 

“She’s still rolling around like a maniac.” Laughing, she soothed her hand over the bump. “I’ve been working on her nursery. I’m hoping she comes within the next week or two.”

Din couldn’t help but smile a little. “Does she have a name yet?”

Omera sighed. She tilted her head toward her shoulder. “No. Not yet.”

Din glanced toward his car. He stepped toward the driver’s side door and Omera followed his lead in the direction of the store. She lingered slowly, eyes on him.

“I had an idea,” he told her. “What about Winta?”

Omera’s cheeks dimpled when she grinned. She looked down at her bump. “Winta. I like that.”

He opened his door and hung onto the top of it for a few seconds while he watched her. “I’m gonna try to come by tonight.”

She offered him a soft grin. “I’ll keep the coffee hot.”

-

There were three missed calls on his phone when he checked it from his faux-leather cushioned seat at the diner. All three calls were from work, but rather than call back, he slipped the device into his pocket and watched the clientele instead.

Two teenagers made out in a booth a few away from his. An old homeless man sat at the counter with a mug of coffee. There was a disheveled woman seated against one of the front-facing windows. A cop had entered a short while ago to order a coffee and donut to-go. He stood by the door waiting for the order to be completed.

Din had a throbbing headache behind his eyes that refused to quit. No amount of painkillers seemed to help, but that didn’t keep him from trying. He knew that he should’ve just gone home, gone to bed, but there was something in him that was desperate for this.

Omera handed the officer a bag and a to-go cup. She poured the homeless man another cup of coffee and laughed at something he’d said. 

Then, she came to the back corner of the diner where Din sat. She’d given him his meal a while ago, but he hadn’t touched it. 

With a frown, she asked, “Is it bad?”

Din shook his head. “No. Just… not hungry.”

Omera nodded soberly. She eyed him for a second and then took a seat across the table from him. She folded her hands together on top of her bump.

It struck him that he missed her. He’d missed sitting with her. Even if their conversations were often simple ones, he’d missed the way it felt to be seen and known by a friend. 

“Hard day?” she pressed gently.

Din sat back in his seat. He nodded. “Hard couple of weeks.”

Omera frowned. “I’m sorry.” She searched his face. “You look exhausted. I know it’s not my place to suggest it, but I could take Milo for a little while. You could go get some rest.”

Din looked down at his son, sound asleep in his carrier, and felt envy for the child who could sleep as much as he did. A little smile inched the corner of his lips upward as he dragged his eyes back to Omera.

“I came to see you,” he said quietly. “I can sleep after.”

She tilted her head. “I’m not… you don’t have to…”

“I come here after a hard day because it helps.”

Omera’s eyes were bright. One of her thumbs dragged a circle against her bump and she stopped the motion when she sat forward slightly.

“I know the cheeseburgers are okay, but the coffee is terrible. How does it help?”

He shook his head and smiled a little more. 

His admission sat on his tongue for a few heartbeats as he recalled their last conversation in this booth. They’d expressed their interest in the other, which meant that all they needed to do was jump in.

In the back of his mind, there was a voice that said he wasn’t good enough for Omera. But when he looked at her, he saw something in her eyes that said the opposite.

“You,” Din finally replied in a quiet voice. “You help.”

Omera’s didn’t move or say anything at all. She didn’t need to. The way her eyes softened and her smile curled with nervous delight spoke louder than any words would.

“When I was a kid, I lost both of my parents,” he told her. “Got sent into the foster system. I hated it. The other kids were brutal. I wasn’t ever adopted.”

Din looked down at Milo. Sound asleep, the boy had no cares in the world. He was cared for. Loved. Valued. Wanted. Din made sure of that. He’d always make sure of that.

“When I found him, he was orphaned like I was. I didn’t think he should have to deal with the system, so I made him my own.” He met Omera’s eyes. “I’m thinking about quitting my job because of him.”

She straightened up in her seat. “I can’t imagine it’s easy caring for him while you work.”

Din earnestly shook his head. “I hate every minute.”

Just beyond Omera, the bell above the front door chimed. She sighed softly and slid out of her seat. For a moment, she lingered at the side of the table with her full attention on him. There were very few people in the world that had ever treated him this way.

“I promise I want to talk. Don’t leave just yet.”

He smiled. “I won’t go anywhere.”

Omera quickly made her way to the front, where she greeted her new customer with a polite smile. 

Din sat back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair, dragging the unwashed strands back. His thoughts were on what was next. Quitting wasn’t going to be easy, but it would be the right thing to do. Omera had proved that to him. He’d never felt quite as right as he had the day they spent the morning together.

In his pocket, his phone vibrated. He grabbed it to check. Five missed calls.

On a sigh, he cursed under his breath. He’d come to the diner, well outside of the proximity of the job, and it seemed his employer wasn’t about to let him hear the end of it.

When Omera came back to the table, she sat down and asked, as if no time had passed, “What would you do if you quit your job?”

He shook his head slowly. “Sleep in my car, probably.”

She laughed through her nose and pressed both hands to the table. “I can help. We can tear the help wanted section of the newspaper apart trying to find a fit. However long it takes.”

For the first time in a while, Din felt hope. He didn’t have to do it alone.

“Why would you help me?” he asked. “You have a lot going on. You’re about to have a kid.”

Omera looked down at Milo and a smile sat easy on her lips. “I want to see you succeed. Is that so wrong?”

“No one has ever wanted that for me.”

She frowned. “I do. Milo does.” She paused as if she were thinking about who else cared for him. “Peli might.” 

Din laughed under his breath. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“I mean it, Din. I know you think you’re too far gone, but… I see goodness in you. It isn’t too late to make a change for the better.”

He reached into his pocket to pull the cash out to pay her. He slid the money onto the table and then stood, grabbing Milo on his way out.

Omera looked up at him with a slight frown and a tight crease in her brow. 

“I’m gonna go hit the rack.” He paused. “If you want to meet me here tomorrow around noon, maybe…”

She smiled, pleased, and nodded. “I’ll have the wanted ads ready.”

On a complete whim, he leaned over her and cradled her face in one hand. His eyes closed when he felt her breath warm against his face. Their lips touched in a kiss that comforted and soothed.

When he broke away from her, he dropped his forehead to hers, and whispered, “Thank you.”

Omera’s eyes shined when he stepped away. Her hand soothed over her bump and she awarded him an optimistic smile.

“Get some rest. You deserve it.”

-

Even though Milo woke him up twice to be fed and changed, Din woke up in the morning feeling rested.

He slept with the baby on his chest and a hand on his lower back, a safe and warm entrapment that he was loathe to extract himself from. 

When he checked the alarm clock, he saw that they had an hour to get ready for the diner, so he dragged a hand over his face and scooped Milo into his arm to climb out of bed.

He took a hot shower. It had been a while. He rarely had the opportunity, and he often had to cut himself short, but today he didn’t need to. 

Once he was refreshed from the warm water in the shower, he took time to shave his face and trim his unruly hair. He even brushed his teeth.

Dressed and ready, Din stuffed his feet into his boots and grabbed his leather jacket, but thought better of it. Instead, he decided he’d go to the diner in one of his plain white tees, unarmored and with an open mind.

He and Milo pulled up to the diner at noon, ready for a change. Something in the air felt different. It was a new day, a fresh start. His past mistakes and wrongdoings sat quiet in the back of his mind, but he would press forward regardless. He’d made his decision.

When he stepped inside the diner, the bell chimed and Peli greeted him from behind the counter. Her hand rested on her hip and she canted her head so her curls danced just a little.

“Come here, Brown Eyes. I gotta tell you something about Omera.”

He frowned. “Is she okay?”

“Well…” Peli sighed. “Last night, as she was getting ready to go home, she went into labor. Her water broke all over my nice linoleum floors! I’ve been cleaning ‘em all morning.”

Din’s eyes widened. His heart leapt. “She went into labor?”

Peli hummed. “I had someone drive her to the hospital. I’m not sure how it turned out, but she wanted me to let you know. She seemed really bent up about it for some reason.”

“Which hospital?”

“Nevarro. It's the closest. She needed some help pretty quick by the sounds of things.”

Din turned, ready to go, but he stopped short when he spotted a familiar face staring back at him from one of the stools at the counter. 

His employer, Gideon, stared at him with a lifted eyebrow as if daring him to say something.

He refused to engage. Instead, he made his way outside and to his car. 

As soon as he had the kid secured in his seat in the back, he closed the door and he knew he wasn’t alone.

“You keep ignoring my calls.”

Din opened the driver’s side door and hung onto the top of it with one hand. He stared at Gideon and was forced to submit to his choice. Either he stayed the path he was on, or he tried a new course. There was no middle ground. 

“I’m done. I don’t want to work for you anymore.”

Gideon nodded slowly. “I figured you were done when you found the kid. Surprised it took this long.”

His jaw clenched when Gideon looked into the backseat. In seconds, he imagined six ways he’d keep the kid safe should Gideon try anything.

“Surely, you know ending our arrangement isn’t as simple as walking away.”

“It is because I say it is.”

Gideon hummed. He folded both hands together behind his back and approached Din. “It’s because of that girl, isn’t it? The one you come here and see. Omera.”

When Din refused to respond, Gideon nodded.

“No attachments. You told me you could abide by that rule.”

Din pushed on the door to open it some and quickly reached inside the middle console to grab his gun. 

“This ends with one of us dead. Remember that rule?” He cocked the gun. Gideon immediately blanched and took a step backward. “If you come near me or the people I care about again, you’ll regret not letting me go on my way.”

Chin pushed forward, Gideon snarled in defeat. “Fine.”

Din unarmed the gun and bent his head low as he climbed into the car. He tucked the weapon away and backed out of the parking lot with Gideon in his sights.

Was this what it felt like to be free? He pondered the question in an endless loop as he drove to the hospital. 

It was hard not to speed, but he kept the car just over the speed limit in his haste to see that Omera was alright. 

The hospital didn’t seem all that busy when he and Milo fumbled into the reception area.

As soon as he was shown Omera’s room, he entered with his heart racing fast. He hadn’t realized how nervous he was. 

Omera laid in the hospital bed with a slightly deflated midsection and an absolutely tiny baby on her breast. As he stepped inside, she instantly lit up.

“Din. Hi.”

He set Milo in his carrier down on a nearby chair and went to Omera’s side to check on her. Visually, she seemed fine. So did the baby.

“Peli told me you made a mess of her floors.”

Omera laughed. “It was such a whirlwind. Before you came to visit, I’d started feeling contractions, but I didn’t think they were real until my water broke.”

He studied her. She wore a hospital gown and her hair was matted. Her brow was still damp from her labor. She seemed tired, but pure joy radiated from somewhere within. 

“You’re okay? You’re both okay?”

“I’m feeling much better now that she’s here.” Omera looked down at the newborn and brushed an affectionate knuckle against her cheek. “Her name is Winta.”

Din smiled. She hadn’t been lying when she told him she liked the name. 

Upon closer examination, he saw that the baby had dark hair and her little fingers were wrapped around just one of Omera’s. Somehow, she was even smaller than Milo was.

“She’s beautiful. Like her mother.”

“I think she’s perfect,” Omera whispered. She smiled some and soothed her thumb against the baby’s temple gently. “I’m not alone now that I have you.”

Din swallowed. He hadn’t realized the gravity of her loneliness. She hid it well in hope and kindness, but she was more like him than he’d realized. 

He lifted his eyes to Omera’s, exhausted but joy-filled in the new hope that her future carried. She had been his solace; his safe place, his comfort. How would things be different now?

“I quit my job.”

Her eyes widened just a little. “You did?”

He nodded. “It’s over.”

She reached out and touched her hand against the side of his face. In that touch, there was meaning that mirrored the kisses they’d shared. She hadn’t given up on him.

He dropped his lips to her forehead in a sign of his affection for her. When he leaned away, he saw his future in her eyes. It was more than he deserved.

-

“My office isn’t a nursery,” Peli grumbled. “I say it every day, but I still don’t know how you talked me into this. I know better. I am better.”

From his spot on the floor beside the playpen he’d erected in Peli’s office two months ago, Din watched Winta and Milo snooze. He stood, satisfied with his check on the pair, and turned to face his boss who stood in the doorway of her office with a Big Gulp in hand.

“I know it’s not ideal, but we’re thankful you let us do this.”

Peli tossed a hand at him as she sucked down a sip of her drink. “Yeah, yeah. Something about owing me. Blah, blah, blah.” 

She stepped into the room and set her styrofoam cup down onto her cluttered desk.

“When are you going to ask Omera to marry you, again?”

Din’s shoulders fell. His heart skipped a frantic beat. “I’m not-”

Peli scoffed. She pointed a hard finger at him. “Quit lying to me, kid. You love her. She loves you. You’re raising your kids together. What’s the big deal?”

He parted his lips to explain it, but before he could, Omera stepped into the doorframe.

“Peli, I need you. Someone’s upset about the ice cream machine.”

“Argh,” Peli grumbled. She set both hands on her hips. “Always the ice cream machine. Never a compliment about the chili recipe. I roast that meat myself, you know.”

Omera laughed. “I know. They’re just asking for you. I’ve done all I can.”

Before Peli snaked her way around Omera, she eyed Din and tipped her head toward Omera. He could only shake his head in response.

Omera crossed the tiny room toward him. She leaned down to check on the kids and smiled, satisfied, before she curled her hands together against his heart and smiled at him in a way that made his heart soar.

“I heard something.”

Din smiled back at her. He lifted his fingers to brush a loose strand of hair away from her face. 

“What’d you hear?”

She gave him a coy look. “Something about an engagement.”

Din lifted an eyebrow. “Who’s getting engaged?”

Omera searched his eyes and pressed up on her toes to kiss him. “Just don’t propose to me at the diner. That’s my only request.”

He hummed at the back of his throat. “Good to know. I’ll keep an ear out for people interested in proposing to you at the diner.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. He followed her lead out of the back office and they each went their separate ways to their workstations. 

He was lucky that Peli needed a night cook when she did. Now, he and Omera could work in tandem and share time off. 

They’d moved in together shortly after Winta was born. 

Consolidating what little he had into her place was easy. He fit right in almost like he’d always been there. He slept on the couch at first, until they accidentally both fell asleep together in her bed when both of the kids needed to be fed.

They had a nursery that the babies shared and they put them on a relatively normal schedule. They cooked meals and watched television and did chores. It was easier than breathing, this life they’d made. 

They were together. They had each other. She was goodness and calm when he didn’t know what to do. He was an anchor for her when she was overwhelmed.

Work at the diner wouldn’t last forever. They told each other that every day, when they drove home with two sleeping babies in the backseat. They all smelled of grease and bad coffee that almost refused to wash out even in a hot shower. It wasn’t forever. There were dreams still to be had in the future- dreams that didn’t smell like grease or coffee.

When their shift ended, Peli came to him at the grill as he cleaned it and nudged him. “Hey, Brown Eyes. Got a minute?”

He finished his task and glanced over at Omera, who had started chatting with a girl at the counter. 

“Without the Missus.”

Peli’s nickname for Omera made Din release a soft sigh as he turned away from the kitchen to follow her into the back room. He met her in her office, where she shut the door behind him.

“I want to promote Omera,” she said evenly.

Din folded his arms against his chest. “Then why are you talking to me?”

“Because…” Peli tilted her head. “If I promote her, it means you’ll get a promotion, too.”

“What’s the job?”

“I want to make her manager of the day shift,” Peli shared. “You’d be a day cook. That’s a big deal, Brown Eyes, but I think you can handle it - if you want it, that is.”

“Did you ask her what she thinks?”

Peli nodded. “She said she wanted me to ask you, too, before she made a decision.” She grabbed a slip of paper from her desk and shoved it at him. He took it. “Details. Numbers. Yada, yada.”

She slipped away from him and slumped into the chair at her desk.

“I don’t think you two want to be here forever,” Peli told him. “Which is why I’m doing this. One day, maybe you can get out of Nevarro. Start a business of your own, maybe.”

Din studied the paperwork in his hand and looked up when he heard Milo begin to fuss. 

“So what do you think, Dad?”

Din reached down for Milo and perched him on his hip. When he turned, Omera entered the office. She gave them an apologetic smile.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“We were talking about the promotion,” Din said, partly distracted by his son. “Do you want it?”

Omera held her hands together in front of her. She smiled. “I do, but only if you’re on board.”

Din considered the opportunity. It would be a big step for them in the right direction. 

“Yeah. I’m okay with it.”

“Great!” Peli grinned. “You take the weekend off. See you both on Monday morning.”

Din tucked both of the kids into the backseat while Omera nursed tea in a to-go cup in the front seat. She was abnormally quiet, even though they were both tired after a long shift. 

When he began the drive to their apartment, he glanced over at her. “You okay?”

She turned to look at him and smiled. “Yeah. I’m okay. Sorry if I seem distracted. I’m just tired.”

Omera reached out to take his hand in his lap. 

“I know this isn’t your dream,” he said. “But it’s a stepping stone.”

She sighed softly and drew her thumb against his knuckles. “You’re my dream. As long as Winta and Milo grow up happy and loved, that’s everything I need. It isn’t about any job I have.”

Din kept his eyes on the road and smiled a little. He heard her relax into her seat with a small sigh of contentment.

“I’m so happy I have you,” she murmured sleepily. 

He drew their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of hers. With a shy glance in her direction, he thought about the ring that hid in his sock drawer. 

Lights from street lights pooled into the car in a fading pattern, in and out again. It was a cozy night drive, with music low on the radio and Omera’s hand in his.

They made it to the apartment and carried the kids into the nursery first, just in time to change and feed them each. In tandem, they worked seamlessly together to get them soothed back to sleep.

Din slipped out of the nursery before Omera did and led the way up the tiny hallway to their bedroom.

“I’m too tired to shower,” Omera shared. She grabbed her favorite sweats from the dresser against the wall in the tiny closet. She had already thrown her hair up into a messy bun, which left strands of it free around her face. “You can go ahead if you want.”

He shook his head. “Ladies first.”

Omera hummed tiredly. She opened the bathroom door and he heard her begin her bedtime routine. 

As she did so, he stepped into the closet and pulled open his sock drawer. Hidden within a gray wool pair he stashed deep within, he pulled the little velvet box out and opened it to check that it was still there. It was.

“I was thinking about looking for a different brand of coffee when we go to the store,” Omera said casually. “I think this one is too weak. Even for me.”

He stepped out of the closet and moved into their bedroom again. “Okay.”

“Oh,” Omera stepped into the doorframe between the bathroom and bedroom. “Did you check to see if we were running low on Winta’s diapers? She went through a bunch of them the other day. We should probably just get more regardless, but-”

He saw her eyes go to the secret he held in his hand. 

“What’s that?”

He cleared his throat. “What’s what?”

Omera pointed toward his hand and laughed. “In your hand.”

Din didn’t look at the box in his hand. He stepped toward her and then dropped to one knee with the box popped open so that the ring inside was revealed.

“You said you didn’t want me to do this at the diner,” he said. “Which was my original plan…”

Omera shook her head, but she smiled. Tears sat in her eyes. 

“You’re my dream,” he told her earnestly. “Will you marry me?”

Her answer was instant, a simple whisper of, “Yes.”

Din wasn’t sure why he thought she might say no, but he felt a wave of relief the moment she nodded at him and laughed lightly.

He helped put the ring on her finger and stood up again so he could wrap his arms around her.

“I’m in my sweats and I was just talking about diapers,” Omera murmured into his ear. “Why now?”

He set his hand to her face and searched her eyes. “In the car, you were talking about what you wanted, and I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

She smiled and pressed up onto her toes to kiss him. “I’m so glad you didn’t propose at the diner.”

He laughed into a kiss. “Should’ve just had Peli do it for me.”

“Oh, she’s been insufferable,” Omera giggled. She stepped with him toward their bed and sat him down, her hands on his shoulders. “You know what would be funny to see?”

He shook his head. “What?”

Omera bit down on her lip as his hands rested on her hips. “If we got married before work on Monday, how do you think she’d react?”

-

Peli didn’t notice their rings. She didn’t ask them how their weekend was, so they couldn’t tease her about the wedding they’d had in the company of a government official and a friend of theirs named Cara as a witness.

“Peli?” Omera asked as they prepared to leave her office to start their first day back off of the weekend.

“Yes?”

“You’ll need to write your checks out to Omera Djarin now,” she replied easily. “Din and I got married this weekend. I’m taking his name.”

Peli’s eyes were as big as saucers. “What?”

-

The kids were four when they moved into a house. It had a backyard and three bedrooms and a full laundry room. It was in Sorgan, tucked in a cul-de-sac with a couple of close neighbors who also had kids of their own. And it was perfect.

Din and Omera spent their nights after work at business school. It was difficult, but they had each other. In the middle of the night, after their final class, they’d go to the diner and share one side of the booth with a basket of fries and mediocre coffee.

Omera leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Why is this homework so hard?”

He laughed as he finished jotting down the answer to the final question on the page. Looking at her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and then kissed the side of her head.

“You’re pregnant and tired. That’s why.”

She frowned and placed her hand over the small bump. 

It was a happy surprise when they found out. Since the kids turned three, they’d been trying on and off again to see if they could have a third, but it had taken time.

“Just one more credit and we’re done,” he reminded her. “Then we get to the hard part.”

Omera sighed heavily and put her hand over her eyes as she groaned. “Who’s idea was it to get pregnant while we plan on opening our own restaurant again?”

He smiled easily and kissed the side of her head again. “C’mon. We should get home. It’s almost one.”

She slid out of their booth and waited for him to join her before she took his hand and walked with him to the front door. Peli winked at them from behind the counter.

“How’s class?”

“Exhausting,” Omera sighed. “But we’re getting through it.”

“I’m proud of you two. Feels like I’ve seen you grow up.”

Omera soothed her hand against her bump. “Oh, Peli. Thank you for saying that. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth all of this. I miss the days when we could just go home and play with the kids after work.”

“When you have your own restaurant, I’m shutting mine down,” she told them. “Retiring. Nobody needs this diner.”

Din shook his head. “I did.”

Peli’s eyes found his. Omera squeezed on his hand and leaned her head against his arm.

“It saved me,” he told Peli. “Just being here.” 

He glanced around the interior of the place he’d grown to love over the course of several years. It was a second home to him and Omera and the kids. 

Milo took his first steps in the kitchen. Winta liked to curl up in the booths with him and read her favorite books when things got slow. Both of the kids befriended the regulars and sat with them to keep them company when they came in alone. He and Omera brought the kids to the diner every weekend at least once, even when they were off, just so they could say hello to their beloved Aunt Peli, who doted on them with free hugs and cookies. 

“Don’t give up on it. It was the only thing that gave me a place to find solace for a while.”

He walked Omera outside and went to her door with her, opening it on her behalf, but she stood with him and pushed up onto her toes to kiss him.

“You’re a good man, Din,” she told him softly. “Don’t ever doubt it, my love.”

She climbed into the car and he closed the door after her. With a deep breath of the night into his lungs, he slowly made his way around the car to the driver’s side.

Once he climbed in, he turned over the engine and pulled carefully out of the parking lot. He couldn’t help but smile when Omera took his hand in his lap.

When they got home, they thanked their sitter and sent her home with a few extra dollars. Then, they went to check on the kids. Even though they had their own bedrooms, with their own beds, it wasn’t uncommon to find that one had gone to the other.

Tonight, Milo had gone to Winta. He curled up beside his sister and held her. Both of them were sound asleep when Din knelt at the bedside. He drew a blanket over them and kissed their foreheads. Omera did the same.

They retreated to bed and when they were covered in darkness, he stared up at the ceiling with one train of thought running through his mind. 

When he was a child, he’d never once dreamed that he could have a life like this. He never thought he’d have comfort again after his parents died. Nobody wanted him. The system bounced him left and right and back again. Kids hit him and called him names. 

As a teenager, he’d leaned on the first thing to give him any sort of safe feeling. Cigarettes. Danger. Fights. Later, it was Gideon who scooped him out and used him.

He was free from all of that. 

Din wrapped his arms around Omera from behind. She was turned onto her side, which permitted his arm to slip between her breasts while he buried his face in her neck. 

Omera reached up for his face and hummed softly. She was quiet when her fingers threaded into his hair and soothed his scalp. 

“Okay?”

He nodded into her. “Just… love you.”

[danbisroom]

Ep. 24 - Fantastic Chemistry Peanut Butter Jelly

Hello my beloved fellow souls,

welcome back to Danbi’s Room, your weekly dose of safe space. Go grab a cup of something warm and get yourself cosy.

I hope you had a nice week. Even if it was tiring I hope it was still enjoyable. I received continuous unplanned surprises from the past week, a lot of ideas and a couple of epiphanies.

Now, you might be wondering what’s wrong with the title. Sometimes we need to change and with every seasonal shift I’m waking up to this more and more. After a full weekend spent among full-blown street artists I’ve been feeling grounded again, along with having made brand new discoveries about my own path. The point I’m trying to make is that we need lightness, too. Lightness is part of the balance of life and it can save us, too.

I love peanut butter. My fellow Italians might burn me at the stake for stating this but I love it. And it did somehow save me, not too long ago. During the time I took a break from Danbi’s Room I was in a place of great distress and I was also super busy. The perfect ingredients to cook a quite annoying dish: I couldn’t bring myself to eat but at the same time I needed a lot of calories.

So I just bought some jars of good peanut butter.

I was having it with jam on toast basically every morning and that allowed me to function and to avoid having panic attacks for breakfast. Now I’m back to taking half an hour to make myself the perfect breakfast for the day, but now, now I can. Now I have an amount of energy that I couldn't even fathom two months ago. I did what I could and that’s self care, too. That stage was part of the process that let me get to the present moment. I feel strong even with four hours of sleep after running around a town for forty-eight during my period, with the bare minimum supply of food and under crazy weather. Definitely something that shouldn’t be routine, but if you’re not constantly in a fight-or-flight state you can occasionally dwell in these adventures and actually enjoy them despite the fatigue. The street becomes your playground, crowds are your playmates. You have fun, you savour every second of it and you even lick your fingers at the end of it. You feel the community, the harmony it created and you remember why you do it. Why do you birth art? It’s always the connection and once you got that, there’s no turning back. It’s a jam of love, laughter and fun and as you get closer you’re able to see the full picture clearer and clearer. You see that making a kid smile with your antics means much more than getting your precious paintings into elitist white cubes where nobody actually cares, not even yourself. Art is to be shared with everybody. All you need is spirit and courage, to look outside and inside, and maybe you’ll recognise something and then acknowledge that feeling of inadequacy is not yours at all, it was passed down to you like a cruel heirloom. You know, before you see and feel something you can’t really decide whether to keep it or not. But once you do you certainly can. I’m emptying my jar of that feeling of inadequacy, so that I can finally fill it with something more…you know, mine.

Then I can smear it all over my life.

Then I can deepen my breath to give oxygen to those who can’t breathe.

Then I can enhance my strength to sustain those who can’t walk.

In the pack and for the pack, always.

May we all howl together while running through the forest.

Now I’ll go make myself some matcha latte and a bit of PBJ.

Today’s song recommendation is JJAM by Stray Kids (act surprised, pretend). Well…it’s about jam and I’ll leave you to build your own interpretation of it.

I hope you enjoyed this episode and that you have a beautiful week ahead of you!

I’ll see you in the next one, big hug!

With love, yours,

Danbi

[grapejuicegay]

september let’s goooo!!!

[gucciwins]

Are you Angel?

Harry gets hurt while on the job and Y/N gets a phone call she was not prepared for.

Word count: 7413

A/N: hello friends, it's been a while :) this is a continuation to my story Trouble Follows. You don't have to read but it will give you an insight of how Y/N and Harry met. I am thrilled to share more of firefighter harry with you. I adore him and I hope you do as well.

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

Warnings: angst, breakups, hospitals

A firefighter will always run into a burning building with not a hint of hesitation. All their focus is on saving the people stuck inside.

Running towards trouble is second nature to them.

She knew that.

She also knew what it meant to date a firefighter.

The unreliable hours, the non-frequent communication, the many failed dinner dates. The twenty-four hours shifts when he would then arrive home to just sleep.

Harry had begun to give her a constant comfort that he would eventually come home and climb into bed behind her. He would then gently nuzzle his face in her neck, taking in her sweet honey scent. In contrast, she took in the woody ashy smell that seems to be permanently stained on him.

So trust her when she said she knew what she was in for when Harry asked her to be his girlfriend.

Four months in, she knew she would be here for a long time, maybe forever, if life would allow it.

She was sure; she knew what to expect.

But she didn't, not until she got the call.

The call that would shatter her heart.

The call that would lead her to be sitting in this uncomfortable, ugly brown hospital chair, holding tightly onto his ashy hand. As she prayed on and on to a God, she no longer held close but wished for Harry they were real and would bring Harry back to her.

Y/N prayed for Harry to finally open his eyes and give her a reassuring smile that he would be okay.

That they would be okay.

Until then, she'll wait.

Harry being Lieutenant allowed him to have a consistent schedule. That did not mean there weren't days where he had to pull a double shift or stay back to finish paperwork; he let it pile up.

The one day that was Y/N's was Sunday.

She got him an entire day to lay in bed together and eat all the baked goods she baked for him to try. It was becoming their day. Everyone at the station knew Harry could not be disturbed on Sundays unless it was the end of the world, and even then, they'd have to pry him away from Y/N.

He feels safe in her arms. Harry had never felt that before. Sure, he was surrounded by his firehouse family, but he had never felt so loved in two arms as if she could take all his problems and stresses away. Still, she did exactly that when she would flash him her gorgeous smile and hold her arms open for him to fall into at the end of every day.

Harry knows he's never felt this way, and he won't ever take it for granted.

This Sunday will be different, and she feels it as soon as she wakes up because, in her queen-sized bed, she's alone. No arms wrapped around her waist; no head tucked into her necks as he places soft open kisses to wake her from her sleep gently.

Already, she knows this is going to be a bad day. She feels it in her bones. Having been around trouble for so long, she knows the difference between good and bad. The feelings she has made her want to find Harry and pull him back into bed where she can keep him safe.

Y/N gets out of bed, throwing the warm sheets off her body going to the bathroom to do her morning skin routine, wanting to feel refreshed for when Harry breaks the news; he's going to leave her alone on their day. She knows him well enough; he's cooking her breakfast to make up for leaving her so early in the morning.

She walks out of her bathroom, going straight to her closet and taking out the first sweater she saw. It's a baby blue color and stitched on the left side on top of her heart is: "love me please?" It's Harry's favorite sweater of hers because it's an oversized sweater that fits him well. The only reason she has it back is that he wanted her to wash it and wear it until it got her smell again. Y/N kissed him silly when he told her that, plus she loves that it smells like him now.

Y/N takes one look at her unmade bed and walks away, knowing she's going to crawl back in after Harry leaves her. She walks out and, from the hallway, can hear Harry humming away. If she's honest, she doesn't recognize the song. As she has come to learn, Harry has an interesting taste in music; he has basically heard every song ever to exist. It's a reason they are so good at Four Clovers Thursday Trivia night. She dominates pop culture and films, and Harry takes on music. She's also better at history than him. Their friends love trivia night because their winning always gets them free drinks. It's something she looks forward to each week.

"Morning, H," Y/N says as she approaches him from behind and wraps her arms around his waist. Harry smiles, instantly feeling warm with her arms around him.

"Morning, firebug. Sleep well?"

She mumbles a no, causing Harry to laugh, and she feels it vibrate through her.

"Awe, upset I wasn't wrapped around you." He teases. "I'm making up to you by making breakfast."

She pulls away, spotting blackberries on the counter. "Sure, Jan."

Harry can hear the change in her tone and knows she's still goofing off with him but knows she's upset.

"Angel, come sit. Coffee is ready."

She shakes her head but makes her way over to the chair he pulled out for her. "No coffee. I'll be going back to bed soon." Y/N waits to see if he'll correct her, but he doesn't.

"I'm sorry." He begins.

"No apologies."

"Please let me. I'm leaving you on our day." He pouts.

"As much as I don't want you to go, I'm sure they need you more than I do."

Harry frowns, "I hope you'll never stop needing me." He whispers against her lips before closing the gap. Y/N hums against his soft lips allowing herself to get lost in the moment; she loves his kisses, soft and gentle just as he is despite what his sharp eyes might have one believe.

Harry pulls away after pressing one final kiss on her pouted lips. "I'm sorry I have to go to work, but I know for certain that I can meet you for a late lunch."

"Lunch?" She repeats, arms wrapped around his waist, hoping he was serious with his offer.

He hums. "Yes, 2:30, that bistro with that avocado dressing you like for your sandwich."

"It's a date." She grins, laying her head on his chest letting him hold her tight. He unwraps his arms, letting her go.

"I've got to get going, firebug, but I'll see you later."

"Stay safe, Styles." She tells him as she does every time he leaves.

"Try my best, angel."

With that, he slips his beat-up white Vans with lilac laces and walks out the door; it shuts it behind him. Just as Y/N steps towards it to lock up, it opens back up, startling her. Harry steps back in, and before she can question him, he places both faces on the side of her face and kisses her breathless. Y/N is quick to react, allowing their lips to move in perfect harmony, not as smooth but perfect, nonetheless.

"I--" Harry begins before he clears his throat. "I'll miss you, angel."

Y/N feels the heat rush to her cheeks because, for a moment, she thought he'd say another three words. "And I'll miss you, H. Now get out of here; I don't need you showing up late to our lunch date."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display, hugging her before walking out a skip in his step. She peaks her head out, making sure he gets in the car safely before he drives off. He sits there for a moment, and she knows he is letting his Bluetooth connect as he waits for his drive-to-work playlist titled "it's time" to start playing. He takes a look at his mirrors before backing out and driving. That's when Y/N closes and locks the door.

Time to go back to bed for a few more hours; what else is there to do on a Sunday when she's left alone.

Harry genuinely did not want to go to work today, but it's not like he could say no to his Chief. His Chief was never one to call in favor unless it was an emergency. He didn't ask, knowing he'd get the full story Monday, but for now, he gets on his pants, t-shirt, and boots and hopes there are no fires today.

The only thing is that Harry isn't used to working with the B-shift, sure he knows everyone's name and a little of their lives, but they aren't his usual team. He shakes that off because he knows he would do anything to help a team member and knows they would do the same in return.

Harry is lost in thought, wondering what Y/N was going to do today. He knows she planned to take him to a butterfly pavilion today even told him the outfit she had planned out for it. A pair of jeans that had flowers embroidered all over something she added, saying she thought they looked a bit plain, pairing it with a pastel pink top. Harry was surprised with her style after meeting her various times in different outfits. He was surprised at how soft she dressed in pastels. She may have a bold personality, but her fashion was delicate and warm. It was a nice balance.

He nearly runs into Carols as he made his way to his office, too busy thinking of the girl he left at home. "Sorry, bud."

"No problem, Harry. Surprised to see you here," Carols tells him, everyone knowing Sunday was Harry's day off.

"Chief had something come up and asked me to come in. I should be out of here by eight tonight if we're lucky."

Carlos smiles, "with you around, we usually are."

Harry chuckles, telling him he'll be in his office if he needs anything. He looks around his desk and sighs at how much has piled up already.

Might as well get ahead.

It's a few hours when Harry realizes the house is quiet. He peaks around the window and figures they are all in the common room. It's only one, and thankfully there have been no calls, and if it continues, then he will make it to lunch with his angel.

He shoots her a text.

Angel

13:24 PM

I miss you. Counting down the minutes until I get to see you xxx

Harry clicks send and smiles down at his phone. 2:30 couldn't come fast enough.

As he gets up to stretch and go for a snack in the kitchen, he takes a deep breath because as confident as he may seem, he isn't around the second shift. They don't know him so well, and Harry ultimately is shy. He may be able to hide it, but he has small quicks that others pick up on. Something he knows Y/N spotted quickly, like when he toes his foot into the ground or when he begins to chip at his nails, and Y/N's favorite is when he moves his hands behind his back and sways side to side. She finds it endearing, but others might not think it's leadership material.

He walks into the lounge to cross to the kitchen when a few heads turn to him, but before they can say a word, the alarm rings, and Harry is literally saved by the bell.

Not a second to waste, everyone heads over to the rig and quickly suits up. Harry is Lieutenant meaning he's in charge of the scene today, seeing as their captain and Chief aren't here today. Harry respects all the firefighters and knows this will go well if everyone carries out their job.

It's a factory fire, and as soon as they arrive, Harry can see it's burning fast. He's not sure how many people are there, but he calls in for reinforcements knowing they will need all the manpower they can get.

"This is House 102; please send more units available. The factory fire is burning at a faster rate than we can control. My team is going in now. There are five people unaccounted for; the left side of the building is clear." Harry speaks into his two-way radio.

"Carlos," the young firefighter jogs over, eyes on Harry, no longer staring at the roaring fire. "You're going in with Baz. Stay close and don't go up the second floor; you need to be quick in and out."

"Who's going with you, Lieutenant?" Carlos asks, clearly worried.

"Jameson and Rey are coming with me; stay safe, and if anything happens, just radio in."

"You got it!" Harry pats his shoulder and walks off towards the two waiting men.

Harry knows the men well, he trained them when they came into the house, but they preferred B-shift instead of being with him. One spot was available, and he knew they didn't want to be separated. Rey and Jameson have been dating for two years, but that's a secret only very few know. It's not prohibited, but if it gets more serious, one will have to relocate to a new station. They simply aren't ready for that, and indeed Harry would be sad not to have them around the house or hearing their stories. It just adds a more considerable risk because, at the end of the day, the job is first.

Rey walks towards the entrance with Harry following right behind. Jameson, a few feet back, calling out for anyone in there that needs help.

"Fire department, call out." Echoes out as much as it can as the fire begins to roar louder.

The heat gets worse the further they walk in; they turn right at the edge of a desk labeled "Torres."

"H, there!" Rey shouts, rushing over to a man knocked unconscious and had heavy storage struck over his legs, pinning him down. Harry and Jameson run over, assessing the man before making any sudden moves.

Jameson finds a pulse, weak but there. He gets the extra mask over the man's face hoping it'll wake him up soon.

"On the count of three, we lift," Harry tells the two men standing to a stand as the others do the same.

They nod. "One, two, three." They grunt in unison, pushing the container to a standing position. Harry looks over the man's legs and is thankful there is no blood, but there will be swelling and bruises. "Right, Rey, take him out. We'll keep searching."

Rey nods, lifting the man over his shoulder as he was trained to do, and rushes out of the burning building. Harry and Jameson have just learned a new area when the radio comes on. "Lieutenant Styles, it's Carlos. We found two men; only one remains unaccounted for."

Harry nods. "Got it, no one comes back in. We'll be out soon."

He now leads the way, making his way towards a stairway. There's no fire here, but it's moving faster, and smoke is thick. Whoever is in here might not last much longer without oxygen.

"Fire department, call out," Harry shouts, voice firm.

"Here.." a whisper is heard, both Harry and Jameson freeze. Once more, "here" is yelled but sounds muffled.

Harry looks around, not seeing anything but fire, and fears the structure will collapse soon. Just as he was about to yell again, he sees a can knocked, and a man hidden under a black rag is seen. Jameson rushes over, helping the man sit up. He's older, well into his sixties. He doesn't look too well; he has a few scapes.

"Right, we need to head out," Jameson tells Harry, helping the man stand up who is fighting consciousness.

"This is Lieutenant Styles; on our way out found the last man. Have paramedics on standby."

"Got it, Styles. Get out quick."

Jameson and Harry get the man up and head to exit. Harry can see the light of day and knows he will be late for lunch, but thankful Y/N is understanding and very forgiving. He'll make it up to her by buying dessert.

Just as they almost reach the door, a piece of dry wood comes falling down, separating Harry and Jameson; luckily, it did not hit them, but now Harry has to find a new way out. It's not looking good.

"Harry," Jameson looks panicked, but Harry stays calm.

"Get him out, now," Harry tells him, looking in every direction for what to do.

"No, I won't-" Harry cuts him off.

"Jameson, get this man out. He needs medical attention. That's an order." Voice full of authority with no room to argue.

Jameson nods and heads out. "I'm coming back for you."

Harry chuckles. He sees a small path, but it'd be a more extended way out. He debates what to do. He could wait, but the longer he stays, the quicker this building is beginning to collapse.

It takes him two seconds to decide to go right and find a new route out instead of staying put. He walks and only gets hotter as the fire begins to surround him. He's good at not panicking, always thinks better under pressure, but this is getting intense. Harry climbs over a crate and bends low to go through this tight space. He sees the exit, it's still a bit away, but he knows he is in the clear.

That's when he hears a big explosion knocking him forward. His oxygen masks flys off, landing a few feet away. As Harry reaches his hand out to get it, he's pulled back. He looks behind and sees he's stuck. There are crates stacked on top of him. The air is thick of smoke, and with no oxygen, it seems like the fire will soon enough engulf him.

Shit.

He's really in trouble now.

Harry presses his radio, holding it, hoping it's still working. "This is Harry," He coughs. "I'm trapped under a few crates. I can't reach my ask. I'm west of the building."

"Harry, hold on. We're going in." Harry hears Jameson reply, but he's fading quickly.

He shakes his head. "Can't go to sleep, but this smoke is too thick to actually see anything, let alone for his team to find him.

"Tell…" He coughs again, and this time doesn't stop for what feels like five minutes but is only a few seconds. "Tell angel, I'm sorry."

A voice comes over the speaker, but Harry's eyelids are fluttering shut, the weight of the crates is too much, and the smoke only gets deeper in his lungs if he keeps speaking.

Harry welcomes the darkness as he sees the one person he was supposed to meet for lunch. She's holding an outstretched hand for him to take and who is he to ever say no to her.

Real or not, he goes to her, and soon enough, he falls unconscious, not feeling when his team lifts him out and puts him in the back of an ambulance.

Y/N decided to show up a bit earlier for their lunch date, putting in their order early, wanting to maximize all their time together. She wouldn't see him until late that night, and honestly, she wasn't a fan of being separated on her favorite day of the week.

She sits on a bench right outside, both sandwiches wrapped tucked away in a brown paper bag and a lemonade sitting next to her untouched. It was his favorite, too sweet in her opinion. Still, Harry loved it, especially since he wasn't one to indulge in sweets unless they were hers.

Knowing Harry could be running late, she pulls out a book from her orange tote bag that Harry gifted to her. The book was Beach Read, Frankie recommended it to her then gave her the book saying she needed to read more romance books and not just poetry and nonfiction books. She actually enjoyed it, which surprised her, but even if she didn't, she's too invested to not find out the ending.

She was just starting chapter five when she feels too much time has passed and glances down at her phone.

2:55

25 minutes late isn't bad or unusual even; she decides to put the book away and keep an eye out for him. Usually, when he keeps her waiting, he makes up for it with a long kiss that never fails to take her breath away; she's excited about it now.

Time seems to go slower when she just sits waiting. She debates beginning to eat her sandwich when her stomach starts to growl. It's low, but she would feel bad if she began to eat, and that's when he shows up. She settles for waiting and instead takes a drink of the sweet lemonade.

As Y/N sits waiting for Harry, her phone begins to ring and displays an unknown number but the city's area code. Every bone in her body tells her to prepare for the worst but hopes she's paranoid.

She takes a deep breath before answering and bringing the phone up to her ear.

"Hello, are you angel?" A deep voice man asks.

"It's Y/N. Actually, can I ask who's calling?" She's holding her breath; only one person calls her angel.

"I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Harry Styles. Harry has been in an accident and was taken to the hospital. He asked us to call an angel on his way to the hospital. We assumed you were one of his emergency contacts."

Y/N feels her hands begin to shake. "What hospital?"

The man on the phone rattles the information, and she lets it all sink in. He hangs up, and she sits there waiting on the bench for her date that will not be showing up.

Her phone rings again, she answers without looking at the caller.

"Y/N," she recognized the voice; it's Mitch, and if he's calling, then it must be true.

"Mitch," she whispers, not recognizing her own voice. It's shaky, tears beginning to well up.

"Where are you?"

"At the bistro a street down from the station." She replies, hoping he's coming for her.

"I'm close; we'll pick you up and go see him, darling." She nods but remembers he can't see her.

Y/N isn't sure why she's not crying. She feels the tears, but it's like they are stuck; her heart hurts, and she knows that says enough. "We were supposed to meet for lunch. I got worried when he didn't show up, but I didn't think--" he interrupts her.

"Harry is going to be fine, trust me. He's okay, and he needs us there."

Y/N doesn't reply because she sees him pulling in. Mitch is in the passenger seat, Sarah is driving. She doesn't say a word as she swings open the door and settles in the back.

She sets her hands in her lap; she can feel herself trembling. She can feel herself breaking because she won't know if he's okay until she sees him. Mitch can say he's fine, but she needs to see for herself.

Sarah and Mitch share a concerned look; Y/N doesn't notice her eyes looking out the window.

"Y/N?" Mitch begins, voice full of concern. "Do you- are you okay to go see him?"

"Of course." She replies quickly. "He needs me; well, I hope he does."

"Course he needs you. Needs his angel by his side." Sarah tells her calmly, wanting to see her smile, but it doesn't work because only Harry should be calling her that. She shouldn't be on her way to see him in a hospital bed. She should have seen him next to her on that bench as he ate his sandwich and gave her kiss and kiss as she told him stories.

They are silent the rest of the way. Sarah pulls into an empty parking space, and she rushes after Mitch, who seems to know exactly where Harry is as he rushes past the front desk. The only thing that slows them down is waiting for the elevator; she gladly would have taken the stairs if Mitch didn't tell her that he's on the sixth floor. Instead, she waits impatiently for the old elevator that will take her to see her love.

He is going to be okay. He has to be okay. Y/N keeps those thoughts running through her head as Mitch and Sarah guide her to room 613.

Mitch walks in first, holding the door open, Sarah places a comforting hand on her back, and Y/N feels supported and loved, but nothing prepares her for what she is about to walk into.

The constant beep of Harry's heart monitor is the only thing that can be heard in his private room. The beep is steady; it makes her let out a deep breath. The monitor already calming her down, she approaches slowly as if he'd wake if she'd walk any faster.

She sits in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed and pulls it as close as she can.

Y/N just stares at him, taking it all in. He looks like he's resting peacefully like he should originally have been when they started this day together. His curls are disheveled, his face dirty with smoke stains and a few gauzes wrapped around his arms. She can't see much else but knows he's got a road of recovery still ahead of him.

"Hi, Harry," she whispers, her hand slowly reaching under the white sheet to grab hold of his right hand. "I'm right here, okay. Take your time waking up; there's no rush. Just know that I'm not going anywhere."

She pauses, hoping for a reply even though she knows she won't get one. "We can also discuss how I'm sort of one of your emergency contacts."

Y/N presses her lips to his hand. "Need you to wake up, want to see those Rapunzal eyes." She sits back, not removing her hand from his. Sarah has not taken her eyes off of her, Sarah might feel like she might blow up soon, but being at his side, she has begun to feel better.

"Harry, we're here for you. The whole team is outside in the lobby, probably why they sent us to the floor with the biggest waiting area. Even young Carlos is out there, saying you gave them a scare but really hopes you never pick up another B-shift again." Mitch sniffles before stepping out of the room. Sarah walks over to where he was standing.

"Hey Harold, it's trivia night in a few days, and kind of counting on you to get us those free drinks." Sarah chuckles. "It's been a while since we've been in the hospital. I think it was when I made you all donate blood for that ambulance competition. Fun times, now you rest and get better. The good thing is you have the best nurse looking out for you." Sarah glances at Y/N, sending her a small smile.

Y/N sits back in her chair as Sarah sits in one by the window. She knows she's in for a long afternoon and an even longer night.

Harry's head is throbbing.

He's not sure why. The last he remembers is leaving Y/N's house to go for his shift at the station.

They were meeting for lunch; he's sure she wouldn't let him drink any alcohol on the job.

Harry slowly opens his eyes and is blinded by the bright light. He sees a photo of the sunset right in front of him, and a tv hung up; if he's not mistaken, he's in a hospital room, primarily due to being in an uncomfortable bed. The oxygen mask over his face is also a dead giveaway he was in an accident.

He looks around, and he sees he is not alone. His angel is sleeping, a tight grip on his right hand; she looks exhausted. Mitch walks in just as Harry was about to wake her. Y/N mumbles and sits up, pulling her hand away from his to rub the sleep away. Harry wants to tell her to stop knowing how much it actually irritates her eyes, especially when she tubs a little harsher than usual.

"Were you able to find tea, Mitch?" Y/N asks, looking over at him.

"Sarah's bringing it over." Mitch's gaze never turns to her staying on Harry; this confuses Y/N and turns back around in her seat to look at a resting Harry but instead finds his eyes on her.

"Harry!" Y/N scoots forward, grasps his hand in hers. "You're awake. Mitch, the nurse, please."

Harry raises his free hand to take off the mask. He wants to speak, but this won't allow him. "No, love. Got to keep it on."

Harry's eyes close, then flutter open. He stares at Y/N, his eyes kind but defiant. He takes the mask off, coughing a bit; it makes Y/N feel nauseous, knowing he's not doing so well.

"I think you need to keep it on, Harry." She says, "the nurse needs to see it when she comes in soon."

"Hey, angel," he says in a raspy voice. It sounds like he's in pain when he talks.

"Yes?" She asks.

"I'm sorry for scaring you."

Y/N shrugs, "no big deal. I wasn't even scared."

Harry smiles, showering her his dimples since she last saw him this morning. He begins to laugh but stops when it causes him to cough. Y/N lets him settle down before bending down to gently kiss him.

"Now, let that hold you over, and put the mask pack on."

Harry nods. "Anything for you, my angel."

It's a half-hour before the doctor comes in, and by that time, Harry had fallen back asleep, only just waking up a few minutes before the man walked through the door. Mitch alerted everyone outside he was awake and doing good.

Dr. Vazquez walked white coat open, displaying a purple button-up and a bright yellow tie. It puts a smile on Y/N's face.

"Hello, Mr. Styles. Glad you're awake."

"Me too, Doc. Nice tie."

Dr. Vaquez smiles, looking down at himself, "Thank you, my wife picks out my tie every morning before she heads off to work."

"Lucky man," Harry tells him.

"That I am." Dr. Vazquez replies. "You've got a mild concussion, nothing serious, but you are allowed to sleep while you're here. We've got a good team looking out for you. You've got a few burns, but those will heal nicely if properly cared for. A few deep bruises on your leg and one on your rib cage, no blood clots. It will hurt to walk for a few days."

"Nothing too bad, then," Harry sighs, relaxing in bed.

"I've looked at your charts, and it looks like you will be making a full recovery and should be back on the job in three or four weeks. In the meantime, you will need to stay overnight and keep taking in oxygen. I see the nurse changed your mask. Please don't remove this one." Harry nods. "Any questions?"

Harry shakes his head no, "Not at the moment."

"Alright, I'll be off then. I'll come to see you tomorrow midday, and we'll talk about going home. I hear you have a waiting room full of people dying to see; just be aware that visiting hours end at nine, but if you're kind to Nurse Lucy, she'll be lenient to ten."

"Thank you, Dr. Vazquez." Mitch and Y/N say in unison as the man exits the room.

"That's the quietest I've ever seen you, firebug." Harry teases.

"You hush." She lightly pats his arm.

Mitch laughs, "going to go tell them you're allowed, visitors."

Y/N and Harry sit in silence. He can tell she has something on her mind, a slight frown on her face. He wonders if it's about him if she won't be able to handle dating someone who can be hurt by the job. Harry honestly does not want to lose her.

"I'm going to step out," Y/N tells him, looking down at their joined hands, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," Harry sighs.

"You've got lots of people waiting to see you and roughly have an hour to see them all. I'll be close by." She leans down, presses a kiss to his cheek, and walks out before he can reach out to stop her.

She steps out while a few members of his team come in to see him offering her a smile as she passes them. As much as she didn't want to leave him, she needed a moment away, and he needed a moment with his family.

God, Y/N has never felt so scared, and now a minute alone, everything is beginning to set in. She has no idea where the restroom is, and the next thing she knows, she's running into someone, but it seems they recognize her because they say her name, and the next thing she knows, she's crying, sinking to the floor. She feels arms wrap around her.

Shushes in her ear, brushing the ends of her hair. It's calming, but she needs to let all the tears she's been holding in.

"Y/N," she can now recognize the voice as Sarah's, "I'm going to help you stand and sit you in the chair.

Y/N feels herself nod.

She begins taking deep breaths, never letting Sarah pull her hand away. It is the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I got her some water." Y/N hears Frankie whisper handing it to Sarah before taking the seat to the left of her.

"I'm okay," she repeats. "I'm okay."

"Y/N," Sarah begins.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, sweetie." Frankie brushes her hair back.

"I'm supposed to be strong; I have to be strong to do this to stand by his side," Y/N tells them, beginning to let her emotions out.

"No one is expecting you not to cry."

"Bu-" Sarah interrupts her.

"No. stop. Accidents happen, and so do injuries. It's okay to be scared and hurt."

"I want to be strong for him." She whispers.

"You are. You never left his side; you talked to him. You're crying now because you care."

She wipes her eyes with her sweater sleeves. "I love him, and I was so scared that when I got the call, I'd never get to tell Harry."

"Then you tell him as soon as you walk back into his room."

"Thank you."

"Nothing to thank, I care about you, and I know Harry would be grateful to know you're not alone. You've always got us. Now let's grab something to eat, and we'll come back in an hour once all of them go home."

She chuckles. "Alright."

"Text me where you're sitting. I'll pop in to see Harry, then meet you."

"You don't have to," Y/N tells Frankie because she knows she is just as concerned about her friend.

"Are you kidding me? You're my friend first, always."

Sarah and Y/N walk down to the cafeteria. She knows she isn't okay but is feeling better, finally letting emotion out. It was only a matter of time before she let the dam break; she's just happy it was not in front of Harry.

The girls sit in the cafeteria munching on snacks for well over an hour. Mitch sends them a message letting them know all the crew has left and it's time to say goodbye for the night. Frankie wishes her goodnight downstairs with promises to come to see her tomorrow and bring her a change of clothes.

"Let's walk you back," Sarah tells her, linking their arms together.

"Do you think he'll know?" Sarah takes a good look at her and grimaces. "I'll just say I tripped, and it made me cry." Y/N jokes.

"I don't think he'll believe that."

"Yeah, me either." The girls walk out of the elevator as their laughter dies down.

They settle in silence as they make their way to his room, Sarah holding her hand leading the way. Mitch is in the chair she was in for so many hours before waiting for him to wake up. Mitch hears their footsteps and turns his head, but Harry is frowning, looking out the window at the dark sky.

Y/N doesn't know what to say, but one look at him has her heart filling up with relief; he's okay.

He's fine, and he gets to go home soon, and she gets to love him all she wants.

Harry turns his head as she steps forward. "Angel," he breathes out.

It makes her eyes well up with tears again. "I love you," she just lets it out, as if she's told Harry this every day as if she never went a moment not saying it.

"Oh my angel," Harry begins to cry, feeling overwhelmed and incredibly happy. His angel loves him, and although this isn't a perfect day, the moment is.

Mitch and Sarah sneak out quietly, shutting the door behind them to give them their privacy.

"I love you so much. Please come here." Harry replies, voice shaky.

In the next second, she's moving forward, pulling the chair as close as she can as he grabs her hands, squeezing them tightly. She leans down and presses her lips to his chapped pink lips. They move gently, pouring all their love and fears into the kiss. Telling each other that the worst is over and they are together, and they are fine. Y/N pulls back, knowing she can't kiss him as long as she'd like due to his sensitive lungs.

"Harry, I love you, and I was so scared I'd never get to say it."

"I'm sorry, angel; I never wanted you to get a call like this, at least not before talking about it."

"Me either," She sniffles, no longer able to control her tears, "but it happened, and I'm just happy you're okay."

"I'm okay," he repeats. She smiles, taking one of her hands out of his hold to wipe his tears away; Harry can't help but lean his head into her gentle touch. "I'm okay because my angel is always looking after me.

"Harry."

"It's true. I've never been luckier and safer since you came into my life." She smiles. "But there's something we have to talk about." He continues, and by the tone of his voice, it's going to be serious.

"Are you okay?"

"What? I'm fine. You're the one in a hospital bed." Her tone is defensive.

"There's something wrong. I can see it."

Y/n sighs, taking a deep breath. She takes her hand out of his hold.

Harry is quick to mask his hurt.

"I don't like that you're hurt. I hate that we aren't at home in the kitchen dancing around to your Sunday playlist as I bake you a new treat." She says in a rush.

"Hey, love, relax," he says and gestures for her to move in closer. She does so, allowing him to take hold of her hands with a firm grip this time.

"You're upset because I got hurt?" She nods in reply to his question. It's stupid because, of course, he's going to get hurt; it'd be naive to think he wouldn't in his job.

"It's part of the job." He says simply. It's something he wants her to accept and remember. She thinks back to a month into dating when he told her about his ex-girlfriend and how she couldn't handle the unknown of the job each day he left her. Y/N thought she'd be fine, but she loves him, and losing him would be something she could never recover from.

"I know. It's just not easy to see." Her voice was quiet and defeated.

"What do we do?" Harry asks, and Y/N freezes; she can feel her heart beating in her ears.

What do we do?

"What do you mean?" She can feel her hands begin to shake.

"This can happen again." He gestures to him in the hospital bed.

"I know." She says softly.

"Is this something you can handle or not?" He asks very direct. She knows this might not be the first time he's had the conversation, but she just told him she loved him, and he's questioning her. She's allowed to feel this way, but it doesn't mean she can't handle it.

"Y/N," he begins, "I'm incredibly happy with you. I see you and me together for a long time. You're it for me, but this job is my life."

"I know," she repeats. "I would never ask you to give up your job."

Harry stares at her; heartbreak passes through his eyes. "Are you asking me to give you up?

She shakes her and begs for the tears not to fall, but it's no use. She feels them falling and can't wipe them as Harry has a hold of her hands.

"Harry, I love you." He frowns as if fearing the worst. "I love you, and I'd rather love you every moment I have you than let you go now and never know what could have been."

"Oh, thank god." Harry lets out a deep breath. She giggles. "I'm sorry we couldn't have this conversation earlier; honestly, I feared if I brought it up, you could possibly break up with me, and I selfishly wanted to have you longer."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, not if it's up to me. Seeing you laid up is hard but knowing I get to be there for you makes up for it. Also helps that I'm a nurse."

"That it does."

Y/n grins at Harry, leaning in to kiss him, short and sweet for now. Each kiss never fails to make her heart race, and due to Harry's heart monitor, she knows it does the same to him. They sit in silence, staring at each other as Harry traces small shapes against Y/N's cheeks, loving the feeling of her in his hand. Especially when she lets out a soft giggle when he hits a sensitive spot.

"Move in with me," Y/N blurts out after a while of silence.

It shocks Harry. "What?"

"Until you're better. That way, I can be your in-home nurse."

"Only until I'm better?" She nods. "So, you'll give me the boot after." Harry teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks warming up but pushes through, "Only if you're a bad patient."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display for her, always for her. "Okay, I can be good and naughty only when you ask."

"Harry!" She gasps.

He throws his head back, laughing.

"God, I'm so lucky to love you." His words warm her heart, and she promises to tell him every day from now on.

"Now get up here and cuddle me. I got Mitch to cue up Netflix."

"Are you sure?" She stands slipping her shoes off, knowing he won't be taking no for an answer.

"Going to deprive an injured man of what he wants most?"

"Guess not."

"Good."

Y/N crawls on and lays on his side, carefully resting her head on his chest. Harry presses kiss after kiss for his comfort, knowing he will be okay and has his favorite person by his side. She chooses Legally Blonde knowing it's Harry's comfort movie as much as he tries to deny it.

For an unusual start to their Sunday, it ends right; together in bed, a hospital bed but nonetheless a bed, together arms wrapped tight around each other.

Y/N might not have liked that Harry got hurt, but he's okay, and he will recover.

That's all she could ever ask for.

thank you so much for reading!

please send me a message of what you thought or if you'd like to see more firefighter harry

I adore you. take care xx

[sly-merlin]

okey dokey! I'm gonna be a father!

Requesting pregnant reader scenarios, wanna see more of the guys’ duality balancing domesticity and impending fatherhood, and running the world, ya know 🙏🏾😎🤔😀 Just throwing the idea out there since you said we could. Y’know things like ‘I’m trying to leave to set up a meeting but her back is sore & she wants ice cream so one of u needs to suddenly be available. now’ & other things ig. I imagined Ty Kun, John Jae or Kun in as leader & probably hc or jaemin as the wife-sitters (lol)

Since you didn’t specify the unit,I did this with the few members from hyung line. This got so long that I ran out of ideas so let me know if you want me to write for some other members.  though j incorporated your ideas but i based it on the concept of them managing the treats in both hands. This is my first time doing reactions so leave some feedback if you wish! Have a nice day everybody.

(7 members) Ft. Taeil, johnny, taeyong, yuta, ten, jaehyun + kun

TAEIL 

"Let me message you back!" Taeil whispered into the phone and raised his body to observe your sleeping form. Your head was securely resting on his arm and he let out a relieved sigh as it was one of the few Lucky days when you were not thrashing around in your sleep. Day after day, you were getting uncomfortable with your heavy belly and all he could ever do was keep you company in your frustrations. He couldn't risk waking you up so he tried his best to complete the task in the painful position. He fidgeted with the phone for it was impossible to handle a 6 inch of metal device with one hand. Struggling with the grip for a few more seconds, he finally managed to send johnny a message regarding the inquiry.

Ask tae He has ab eztra key 2 my ofice.

Maybe he should turn his autocorrect on for situations like this!

Thinking his work was done, he locked the phone. just when he was about to put it on the nightstand on a blind guess, it vibrated again! 

John: He is out! You need to come asap.

He stopped to watch out for any movement from your side and when there was none, he shifted to his phone again.

Nt my pblm. 

He couldn't understand why johnny was being so persistent when everyone was under strict orders to not call him after 10 p.m unless someone was dying!

John: Jungwoo is in trouble with police. I need his fake ID!

Taeil’s scoffed a bit too loudly causing you to stir.  He paused in his actions only to continue when he noticed your even breathing. Weighing the options, he concluded that Jungwoo must have forgotten to pay for the food again or something like that otherwise if it was work related then johnny would have been screaming at his door and not through the phone.

Not his 1st time. dw too much. Jst send him some food so he wont cry like last tym.

He deserved that much punishment! With that he switched the device off and wrapped his arm around your waist, returning to the warmth he got to experience only at night times.

JOHNNY

You were on edge since the day you got yourself tested. You could blame it on the suddenly changing hormones or the never present johnny but one thing was sure that you were missing him more than ever. Johnny on the other hand, avoided going back home for the sole reason of finding himself incapable of taking care of you and his dangerous job. That’s why he had assigned hendery to be at your beck and call. He was a medic and since the other medical emergencies could be handled by xiaojun and renjun, hendery had no problem in spending some time with you. His company was full of funny stories of other members and silly jokes. Despite his endless efforts to distract you, the thought that your daughter’s father was missing the growth of his own child always remained at the back of your head. You couldn’t understand how all of a sudden his workload had increased so much that he barely had any time to even see your face let alone talk to you for a few minutes. But all your worries vanished the day he returned and sarcastically ordered hendery to show his donkey self out of his house to never come back again.

“I managed to prepone some important weapon deals”, he bowed gracefully to acknowledge his own achievements, making you chuckle at him, “and I’ve been rewarded with three months of holidays so I shall be spending these months making up for the lost time and creating new memories” he completed, kissing your forehead.

"I never said I need you 24/7. A few hours at most would do John" you said, knowing how his absence would affect the black neos. 

"Yeah. But then I realised what if my baby girl mistakes hendery for her father. Can't let that happen now yeah!" 

Masked under jokes, you were very well aware of the real reasons behind the toil he had subjected himself to! It was all for you and your baby girl and you knew he would do it again and again even if it meant the end of his life!

TAEYONG

 From sharp cold deadly glare to the dragon tattoo that adorned his neck and arms, fellow criminals had every reason to fear this man. His name, in the underworld, screamed  cursed royalty. But that was Lee taeyong, leader of black neos.

The taeyong standing right in front of you, struggling with multiple boxes of boards was anything but scary. Cladded in baby blue hoodie and black boxers, he was reading the manual, knocking down the structure again and again as he repeatedly found something missing from it. 

"Leave it tae. I can complete this later on. Come and eat now." You whined and suggested while taking bites from the creamy pasta he had prepared earlier. 

"what do you mean i can complete this later on. Do you find me incapable of making a crib?"

Yes you did!

But that was not the answer you could give when he was clearly trying his hardest. It was indeed baffling as to why the man who could assemble a weapon with his left hand was unable to join the pieces of a crib with both!

"No tae. You were out for three days so maybe you are just too tired to concentrate!" You explained in the politest way possible that clearly didn't reach him properly. He let out an audible gasp at what felt for him to be the accusatory tone.

"Eat your pasta and watch me complete this in half an hour! You'd regret saying that to me!"

Why was he the one with mood swings?

Just like other bubbling thoughts, you gulped down this one too and nodded enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up as if you would never doubt his capabilities.

But you knew, he might have started the task but he was surely not going to be the one to complete it!

YUTA

“How about sakura?” hyuck suggested. Looks of disapproval were exchanged across the room and sound of mark hitting hyuck’s arm resonated in the living room.

“Cliche!” jaehyun laughed.

“Yes. We aren't naming our daughter sakura and that is final. She’s one of a kind and her name should also be!” you announced your arrival in the room and sat on the floor, making yourself comfortable between yuta’s legs. He wrapped his arms around your belly before leaning his neck to greet you with a sweet cheek kiss.

“Yes. What y/n wants, y/n gets. No sakura!” he held his one hand up in the air, forbidding any further discussion on the name.

"That's not fair!" Hyuck whined only to be dismissed by a wave from you.

"Just because it's not hyuck's choice doesn't mean that you have got right to choose by yourself. The baby is a part of this family so we get to decide what's best for her!" Ten exclaimed loudly getting everyone’s attention.

“How about ayaka?” kun suggested, entering the room with a trolley full of snacks. As the recommendations poured in, the snacks were passed to everyone. Days like these were rare and from the past two months, these rare days were spent daydreaming about the very first child in the black neos house.

“Akira? It’s quite universal you know.” mark joined in, reading the meaning of the name in different cultures and languages.

“Haru”

“No kai!” 

Somewhere in the conversation, yuta’s hands had travelled from your tummy to your sides. He knew the little brushes of his fingers had started to work on you as you swatted his hand away with yours. It only encouraged him and he tickled you on your sides more and more, getting the desired reaction. Your body being more sensitive and responsive than usual, you wiggled in his arms and squealed loudly enough to get everyone’s attention. Suddenly his hands stopped as he heard a whiny shout.

“Why are you bugging her?” hyuck hollered, “can’t you sit still for once? Let her breathe for a freaking second. You wanna tickle! Tickle me. Come tickle me but Don’t bother her!” 

You were aware of hyuck’s sudden outbursts of protection for you but this was truly something new! And you new tickles were not the reasoning behind his irritation. Sakura was!

“Le-let’s play a game”, kun interrupted before haechan’s frustration would land him into some trouble with the elder, “we’ll write all the suggestions into paper and whichever y/n chooses would be final. How does it sound?” 

Everyone hummed along to the idea. Looking over at Hyuck, you noticed a sudden glint in his eyes that spoke trouble. He was clearly planning something evil and until it was all fun and games, you had no trouble for his intentions.

“Since when did you get a bodyguard hmm?” yuta whispered, planting another wet kiss on your right cheek. 

“Yua.” you said.

“What?”

“We are naming her yua! When are you gonna tell them that i’ve already decided!” leaning backwards, you said in a hushed voice meant only for his ears.

“When they are tired enough to play any more games. Till then, let’s have fun. Look at hyuck, he’s surely gonna cheat and mark and renjun are going to strangle him.” yuta chuckled against your ear, making you laugh again. Life was good!

TEN

“Xiaojun! Xiaojun! Show yourself you good for nothing potato!” you winced at the volume of ten’s voice. Even though he was outside the room, his vocals were irritating. But you held your tongue from scolding him as he was the only one you could rely on at the moment. 

“Xia-

“Did bella bite you again? why are you shouting at-” xiaojun squinted at the wall clock and adjusted his glasses, “at 5:30a.m?”

“Half of the world is up you hibernating bear! y/n is craving ice-cream. You know better than to refuse her so go to her. Your service starts right now.” 

Xiaojun scoffed and remained glued to the stairs. Ten raised a brow questioning him but instead of answering him xiaojun came up with one of his own.

“And why aren’t you going?” 

“Switchblade prince is called so I gotta go. I don’t think you want her to wait!.”

Xiaojun groaned when ten shot him a wink and left the living room. Of course he had no trouble in tending to your demands which as a medic, he understood very well but ten’s cockiness wasn’t something he was ever ready to handle.

“y/n! What does our prince wanted to eat this early in the morning?” he smiled at you, plopping down on the edge of the bed.

“Apples and bananas.” 

“I meant what ice cream flavour do you want?”

“Ice cream? Who said ice cream? I want bananas.” you answered him, confused at his confusion!

It was only then that xiaojun realised that switchblade prince was never called in the first place. Ten had fled. Due to fruits! He was contemplating as to what extent he should be manipulating ten’s words while telling you about his betrayal when you spoke up.

“Umm. i guess we can eat mint chocolate as well. I’ll eat a banana chocolate sandwich first then we can both watch a movie and finish the ice cream. What do you say?”

Ok!  Maybe revenge could wait. Ice cream would be a priority here! 

JAEHYUN

If your husband was cocky, you were seriously too many steps ahead of him and it has taken only 10 days for jaemin to realise that you were just jae's cup of tea and no one else's, at least not as a 4 months pregnant woman. 

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" Jaehyun laughed at jaemin sprawled on the floor like a toddler. 

"Noona screamed at me" jaemin mumbled, hiding his face in his neck.

"Oh jaemin! Why did she do it? Were you teasing her again. You know that she doesn't take sarcasm too we-

"No. She threw up the food i made for her and that too thrice since yesterday. I got angry so i told her to eat up or else i won't be making anymore for her. She threw the pillow at me and ordered me to never talk to her again! I mean it's not like i was showing real anger! She's hungry since yesterday. If she won't eat up then she'd be sick. What did I do wrong! Now I made her favourite pasta and she won't open the door for me."

Jaehyun sighed and crouched down to jaemin's level. He knew your emotions weren't in your control anymore but jaemin wasn't wrong either. He was just doing what was right for you and unintentionally, you had ended up hurting the poor boy. Jaehyun patted jaemin's hair before he told him to inform taeyong about his possible absence from the upcoming meetings and activities.

"You can't do that." Jaemin said the obvious.

"Do you want her to eat or not!" Jaemin frantically nodded at him before running off to the main office.

Heating up the pasta, jaehyun made his way to your shared bedroom in black neos. 

"Baby open up it's me!" He knocked at the door and hearing his voice,you immediately opened it. 

"You are here!" You exclaimed, feeling beads of moisture in the corner of your eyes.

"Aww. Now is not the time to cry." He cooed, entering the room with the tray. Placing it on the coffee table, he turned around and hugged you just the way he missed you.

"I'm sorry for being occupied and only coming back at night. But I'm here for a few days so let's get you all happy like a seal!" He laughed, ruffling your hair.

"I-i yelled at jaemin for no reason." You confessed not being aware that he was already filled in by the younger boy. 

"You wanna apologize?" You nodded as he squished your cheeks in his hands and leaned in to kiss your pouty lips. 

"Later on! Now's the time for evening lunch and getting this food in your tummy without it backfiring!" 

You laughed at how smoothly he eased your worries. After eating properly, you apologised to jaemin which he accepted but not before crying like a little boy he was!

Bonus :

KUN

"Yangyang what the heck are you doing near y/n. I told you to keep your meaningless books away from her!" Kun felt like his blood pressure would shot up anytime soon.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh really? What's the book that you are reading to her?"

"How to walk like a pro when you are only 2 months old! I want the baby to be high class like me."

Kun's hands found refuge in his hair as he groaned at the boy. Now he needed to read all the books that could possibly reverse yangyang's teachings.

"There is no such book available."

"Yeah that's why i wrote it by myself. Pulled an all nighter but when the baby would start walking at only 2 months of age, you'd thank me!"

[malucy31]

- Wip Wednesday -

I've been having a fic in my head for weeks now (or was it months already?!) and I need some of it out.

So, here you have some Malec (always), an island (a small one), fishing (which I know nothing about), some "fairy tale curse" as background (not mentionned here, but it's there...) and a cute Chairman (because I can't resist him lately)

It's still a mess, but here it is 😊

.

No matter what, no matter where, Alec would always miss Magnus. It’s a reality he had to face for the first time under the strangest circumstances.

On a weekday, Magnus’s store was closed.

Nothing too out of the ordinary yet, it wasn’t like it never happened. Magnus was boredsometimes. Like those few times he visited Alec at the museum when his shop should have been open, saying he was dropping by to see how the restoration work was going and ending up staying all afternoon. Or those other times when the first thing Alec would see when he would open his window at dawn was Magnus dragging his fishing boat to the shore before heading straight to him, waving at him with a cooler full of fishes in his hand. The night was too beautiful to sleep was usually his excuse. Alec loved it when Magnus was boredbecause it seemed like his boredom was always bringing the man to him. Yeah, Alec loved those days…

But today wasn’t one of those days.

Magnus’s store was closed, it was 4pm and no one had heard of him in the last 24 hours. It would have worried Alec sooner if he hadn’t been on fishing duty all day.

After no one answered the door, Alec had to use his keys to Magnus’s apartment and was greeted by a particularly agitated Chairman Meow, rushing between Alec’s feet, meowing and rubbing himself against Alec’s ankles.

“Hey there,” Alec greeted him back with a laughter. “You’re smelling the fish, aren’t you?”

He managed to close the door with his hip, balancing the cooler in his arms while trying not to trip over the cat. But when Chairman started meowing every step Alec took towards the kitchen. Setting the cooler on the table, he picked up the cat.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned, trying to call Magnus while knowing he wouldn’t get any answer.

Given how agitated Chairman was, Alec expected him to jump out of his hold right away, but he didn’t. Instead, he curled up into a ball and started purring. Odd… Sure, all those years ago, when Magnus first introduced Alec to his cat, Charmain had quickly accepted him and nothing had changed. But this behavior was strange.

In the corner of the kitchen, his bowl was full for days. Had Magnus planned to be out? How long has Chairman been alone?

Nothing looked out of place in the loft, there was no trace of break in, it looked perfectly normal to Alec. Magnus just… left. But why?

Exploring a bit further, Alec tried to rationalize, maybe he forgot about a trip Magnus told him about, maybe he simply had a lot of appointments today, maybe –

There was an envelope on the coffee table, an envelope with his name on it. Just like that, all the logical and reasonable explanations stopped anchoring his worrying heart. It sank slowly at the bottom of his stomach as he sat down, holding Charmain tightly against his stomach.

[bytheangell]

If you are still taking prompts, what would you think about writing something(s) based off of this, either/both, the Professor/TA, or the Writer/Editor?

Dedication (modern AU, Herongraystairs, check the link in the ask for full writer/editor prompt, a wonderful plot idea by @high-warlock-of-brooklyn!) (Read on AO3)

This is the first book Will and Tessa are collaborating on. They’ve written plenty of books individually and Jem’s worked with each of them in turn. But this is the first time they’ve co-authored, an experience that’s proving unique and challenging for all of them.

Being with Will and Tessa while they work on a new project is always a blessing and a curse. They’re two of the best writers of their generation and when they work on their own they’re brilliant, but when they work together - well, they’re also brilliant, but that brilliance is coupled with the occasional near-catastrophic clash of opinions and emotions.

Which is where Jem comes in.

Where Will and Tessa are so driven by passion and feelings, Jem finds it much easier to distance himself from their project (and from the writers themselves) enough to see the bigger picture and find solutions before the issues build up. Like many things about the three of them, it’s a perfect balance - they just work, better than anyone (including Will, Tessa, and Jem) ever imagined possible when they first got together.

It’d been a messy start, with Will and Jem already together but both developing serious feelings for Tessa after they met during a book event. The three of them quickly became very close. There were whispers of which of them would end up leaving, then confusion when the answer was none: instead of two of them growing closer and shutting the third out, they all seemed to adjust and adapt naturally around the three of them coexisting. They aren’t perfect, but they are perfect for each other, at least as far as Jem’s concerned.

Jem knows that what they have is special, which he reminds himself of over and over as Will and Tessa sit on opposite sides of the sofa, voices quickly elevating to nearly shouting over an issue with one of the characters Will is in charge of writing: one he’s chosen to give a pretty damning curse from a trickster faerie in this land of magic their current collaboration is set in.

“Tell him he needs to make the changes, Jem,” Tessa insists, the third time she’s repeated the demand now.

“Tell her that this plot adds depth, and without it, he’s boring,” Will counters. “Sometimes people - characters - need to be brutally honest about their own faults and issues. Sometimes people are disappointing.”

That’s how Jem can tell things are spiraling: when Will and Tessa - who have effectively communicated and collaborated on half a dozen bestsellers and who love each other more than Jem’s ever seen two people experience love - refuse to speak directly to one another. The moment they start talking around each other and at Jem instead is when he knows he has to step in and diffuse.

Usually, it’s a matter of taking a break, getting some fresh air, and coming back with clear minds. Jem normally isn’t one to pick sides, but this is different. He isn’t worried about the direction of the book… but after reading the latest draft from Will, which Will wrote while refusing to speak to either of them for a full week, he’s worried about Will. And he knows Tessa is, too.

“Perhaps a good starting point would be admitting this isn’t really about the character at all,” Jem says softly, gazing closely between Will and Tessa. Will looks a bit guilty and Tessa looks away entirely, which tells Jem that he’s right in guessing their concerns are also less plot-based.

“...what else would it be about?” Will asks defensively. But they can all sense how he’s been pushing them away lately, much like the cursed character undeserving of love he’s written in. It’s obvious that Tessa isn’t sure how to bring it up or else she would’ve already. Or maybe she already had and it hadn’t gone well.

“Tessa, would you mind making some tea?” Jem asks, waiting until she’s out of the room to turn back to Will.

“Will… you know this is about you. You barely talk to anyone for a week then come back with this character in such a self-deprecating mindset…”

“That’s ridiculous. He’s just a character,” Will says, but Jem can tell he’s entirely unconvinced of his own words.

“So if Tess came back having written Evangeline that way?” Jem counters, and there’s that look of subtle guilt, right back on Will’s face as he frowns and pieces together why Tessa’s so upset with him.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Will sighs.

“We’re not mad at you,” Jem’s quick to point out. “We’re just worried. It’s been a while since you tried to push us away like this, I just want to make sure you’re okay. We both do. Take it out in the writing if you want, but talk with us, too. Alright, my love?”

Jem’s tense as he waits. This has one of two options: Will relents and listens to him and they all have tea and talk this out, or Will storms out and they don’t see him again for another day or two.

Will stays. “I’m just letting the pressure get to me,” he admits. “I’m sure that’s all it is... But yeah. Okay. Tea.”

Tea, meaning ‘I’ll stay. I’ll talk. I’ll try.’ Jem leans over and places a barely-there kiss on Will’s lips before he relaxes back in his seat. Reaching out a hand that Will readily takes, Jem gives it a tight squeeze as they both wait for Tessa to return.

They talk.

In the end, the character arc stays. With a few redeeming modifications at Tessa and Jem’s entirely unbiased suggestion, of course.

---

A little over halfway through the first draft things seem to stall out. They have a progress deadline that week with the publisher and they’re cutting it close - mostly because Tessa keeps tossing everything she writes without giving Jem the chance to look it over. Recently she’s let her curiosity get the best of her, delving into research she should be allowing Jem to help with.

...and when he says ‘delving’, what he really means is stubbornly obsessing over, nitpicking bits of lore to streamline, and doing hours and hours of research for single-line references.

“When was the last time she slept? Like, an actual night of sleep?” Jem asks Will one day after a quick touch-base meeting that went… not terribly, but not particularly great, either.

“You need to get her out of here. No books. No wifi. I tried to kick her out but… well, you can imagine how well that went,” Will admits, and Jem winces in sympathy.

“The Time Out Cottage?” Jem asks, referring to a small cottage they own for unplugged getaways, where the wifi signal is nonexistent and a landline exists for emergency calls. “That means we’ll both be out of easy reach, and with that Friday deadline-”

“I can handle it,” Will cuts him off. “She’s been getting in her own way for days now, but she refuses to listen to me.”

A few minutes later Jem tentatively knocks on the door to the small study that does, in fact, look more like a makeshift research library. He nearly doesn’t see Tessa behind the small mountain of books on the floor, but he hears her pen tapping rapidly against the hardwood. No, not just rapidly - anxiously. He knows that action all too well.

“Tessa, what number is that?” he asks, the question needing no further explanation past his accusatory tone and pointed look at a coffee mug, which is next to a second coffee mug, which is next to a cup of black tea.

“Four? No, wait… what time is it?” she glances around and seems surprised by the height of the sun in the sky. “It’s afternoon already?”

Jem sighs. “It’s nearly four o’clock, Tessa, and your blood is probably about 90% caffeine. Come on, get your things, we’re taking a trip.”

Tessa looks immediately horrified. “No! I can’t, we can’t! The deadline, and I still have to streamline the fae lore between the two-”

“Will has it handled for 24 hours. That’s all we’re asking. 24 hours without research.” “Jem, you know-”

“-that you’ll be twice as productive once we’re back and you’re refreshed instead of running on fumes and fever dreams?” Jem cuts her off, his tone kind but insistent. He bends over and picks up a piece of paper. “Tessa, my love, this is nearly incoherent.”

Tessa reaches up to take the page from him and frowns. “I… okay, I can make out some of this, but I’m pretty sure that bit talks about aliens which isn’t any more reassuring. Will did say I was writing myself in circles, but I thought he was just, well, being Will, so... Yeah. Okay. Maybe I need to step back for a bit.” Tessa sighs. “The Time Out Cottage?”

“I already packed you a bag,” Jem confirms with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the middle of her forehead before reaching out a hand to help her up off the floor.

When they return exactly 24 hours later, Tessa gets back to work and the lore practically falls into place between the two of them.

They meet the Friday deadline without a problem.

---

Jem spends his free time playing violin while Will and Tessa go through the first draft and begin to brainstorm fixes for plotholes, new minor characters to add to scenes that feel a bit lacking, and other small improvements to really round out the story and the world they’re weaving. They both claim to think clearer with his music in the background so he stays, even if he doesn’t feel particularly useful for this stage of the process until they have a single, coherent draft to hand over to him.

These are the moments Jem’s own insecurities and flaws float to the surface. The moments he watches Will and Tessa, so alike, so perfect for each other, connect on a level he isn’t privy to. He knows it’s a silly thought, that he and Will have their own things, as do he and Tessa. But sometimes he wonders if they truly need him around, or if he’s simply just become too much a part of the routine to actively get rid of.

He watches them sit next to each other with shoulders touching, hunched over a small screen, whispering back and forth. There’s a small smile on his face, one that’s wistful and tinged with hints of longing that, much to his dismay, they pick up on.

“I know that look,” Tessa says, catching Jem’s gaze and drawing Will’s attention before Jem can wipe the expression from his face. “Get over here. I think we’ve done enough work for today.”

Will is the first to move over, making room for Jem in the middle of them. After placing his violin back in its case Jem heads over to join them on the sofa, embracing the way Will and Tessa immediately crowd into his space once he’s settled, both placing a comforting kiss to his temples simultaneously before resting their heads on each of his shoulders and a placing a hand in each of his own.

They talk a bit, not about the book, but about anything and everything else, and fall asleep there, still entwined together.

---

It’s rare for any part of one of their books to be a surprise to Jem upon publication. He sees all the drafts, talks them through the acknowledgments and dedications, double-checks the reference pages against the chaotic piles of books and notes around their home.

So he’s immediately (and rightfully) suspicious the moment they hand him the first advanced copy and tell him to open it, watching his every move with eager expressions. Excited, but anxious.

‘A dedication to the one most dedicated to us:

This book would not be what it is without the kind heart, encouraging words, and infinite patience of James Carstairs. Neither would we. Jem, you are a light in our darkest hours, and we don’t know where we’d be without you.

We hope we’ll never have to find out.

Jem, our love, will you marry us?’

Jem reads, then re-reads the dedication. He closes the book, then opens it again, reading it a third time for good measure.

“Well?” Will asks impatiently, earning himself a nudge in the ribs from Tessa. Will huffs.

“I see you’re as dramatic as always,” Jem says quietly, instead of answering the question posed in the book. He knows his answer. He’s known for a while now what his answer would be, should the topic ever present itself, but he gets a bit of joy from making Will wait in anticipation just a short while longer.

“He wanted to be even more dramatic and show you at the event tomorrow,” Tessa admits. “But we decided against it. We thought you deserved the chance to say no without two hundred sets of eyes on you.”

Jem raises an eyebrow. “You think I’ll say no?”

“You haven’t said ‘yes’ yet,” Will points out, but he doesn’t sound nervous about it. Nor should he be.

“Yes,” Jem says, smiling brightly. “Of course it’s yes.”

[hqmoonsun]

i met you at 24, i lost you at 72.

genre: fluff, angst

pairing: angel!bokuto x gn!human!y/n

word count: 4.2k

warning(s): implied death, cussing

synopsis: freedom is something you heavily value, to soar and to fly. maybe, that’swhy you’re so fascinated with angels. beings that navigate with their wings, lifting them off the ground, using the air to control their course. you weren’t sure whether the rumors of them existing in the same planet as you are real. but one thing’s for sure, you want to encounter one. it’s just not the person you’re expecting at an unexpected time and place.

24 hours

summer break.

those two words alone bring students a sense of euphoria and freedom. it’s what liberates them from deadlines and stress. it signifies the time to be able to have fun at no costs. and of course, you sure as hell won’t take that time for granted.

you often fantasize of being an angel. they’re rumored to be roaming around the earth and a part of you wishes that’s true. creatures that are crafted filled with kindness and knowledge, you seek to learn from them. you want to learn how to fly, like they do with wings like theirs. to you, to be an angel is to be free.

that is why right now, you are standing in front of the subway at exactly 12:00 am on july 21st, the very first day of summer break. as expected, only a few are around and they are mostly foreigners who had just arrived for vacation.

this year, you plan to take the subway on the first week of summer break and let it take you anywhere. you like being spontaneous and this is exactly what it is.

the sky is still dark and the stars are still sparkling. you stand idle as you patiently wait for the train to arrive.

from the corner of your left eye, you could see a familiar build of someone’s back, yet you can’t place your tongue on who it is. a second passed and they finally turned around, revealing the one and only bokuto koutarou.

you furrow your eyebrows secretly, wondering what on earth is the school volleyball’s ace doing at the train station in the middle of the night. you can’t exactly ask him because well, it’s bokuto koutarou. there is no way that he would recognize who you are. after all, you’re just a nobody.

“hey, i know you!” he suddenly points at you. for some unknown reason, he sounds relieved.

“uhm, hi?” you awkwardly greet him.

“it’s midnight, what are you doing here?” he asks, cheerful as ever.

“spending my summer break, you?”

“same.”

silence falls between the two of you and the faint rumbling sound of the train from a distance is all you could hear.

“so, where are you going?” he opens up the conversation again.

“anywhere the train goes,” you admit shrugging your shoulders.

“can i tag along?” he asks, pursing his lips after.

that definitely caught you off guard. but this is definitely spontaneous and who are you to turn down such an opportunity?

“of course you can,” you smile at him. for a moment, time seemed to stop. the train in the distance halted in its tracks along with the heels clicking behind you as the both of you got lost in each other’s eyes. if it weren’t for the train hissing loudly as its doors open to welcome passengers, no one would have looked away.

“after you,” bokuto lets you enter first, following after you.

“what an angel,” you let out a giggle at his gesture.

you point at an empty seat five rows after the entrance, perfectly situating you in the middle of the vehicle.

“next stop, shibuya,” an automated announcement voices through the train speaker.

“how long is that?” bokuto leans in to whisper. you could feel his breath tickling your neck.

“uh, don’t know, maybe 30 minutes?” you stammer. you could feel how close he is from the corner of your eyes. your pulse can’t help but race rapidly.

“wake up,” a voice softly whispers.

you slowly open your eyes to the view of bokuto’s reflection on the window. you planned to stay still for a while until you realize the soft object you’re leaning on is his shoulder.

“fuck, sorry i didn’t mean to sleep on you,” you break away, now fully awake.

“it’s okay,” he giggles while shaking his hands, “your snores were cute,” he adds.

your eyes widen in horror.

“i’m kidding,” he retreats, giggling even louder.

“i hate you,” you playfully roll your eyes at him.

then, the train comes to a halt. outside, the sky is still dark and the stars still glistening. in contrast to your city, shibuya is filled with tall buildings.

you two get off the train with no exchange. no one spoke, yet you both could feel the excitement in the air.

“the most spontaneous adventure of my life so far is here,” you exhale with a wide smile.

“it hasn’t started when i asked to come?” bokuto pouts.

you wanted to reply, but nothing came out. bokuto laughs it off and takes your hand. before you know it, you’re out of the train station and stand somewhere in shibuya, where only a few shops are open at this late hour.

“hungry?” bokuto points at a ramen shop. his hands are still intertwined with yours. his grip tells you he’s not letting go anytime soon.

“super.”

“this is amazing,” you giggle with your mouth full, causing you to choke a little.

bokuto immediately hands you a napkin, so quick that he almost flipped the table.

“careful,” he scolds gently.

“my bad, i was too excited.”

“can’t blame you, this shit’s awesome.”

you stare into each other’s eyes, both of your lips curved into a smile. time seemed to stop again until the old lady working interrupts to serve you tea. she exchanges looks with the both of you and smiles.

“ah, young love,” she sings as she struts back to the kitchen.

you two make no noise. just your hearts racing faster and faster by the second. bokuto lets out a dry cough to lessen the tension and you two resume eating.

it hasn’t been long, but this is the second time you’ve gotten lost in each other’s eyes. you don’t understand why, but the moment both of your eyes meet, they can’t seem to lose each other.

when finished with your late meals, you step back outside. it’s still the same as before you went in. quiet and dark.

“so,” you start.

“so,” bokuto continues.

“where are we headed?”

“hey, i’m just tagging along.”

“are you tired?”

“no, i’m restless.”

“let’s go see the sunrise then,” you glance up at bokuto, who towers over you. he’s already looking at you with a smile. again, your heart does that thing, where it tumbles over and over again.

“you’re good with directions, right?” bokuto whispers behind you.

“are you scared of getting lost?” you turn around and raise an eyebrow.

“yes, it’s a waste of time.”

“no, we’re not lost,” you confirm, “but if we were, good thing you’re with me, i’ll make it worth your time.”

you’ve never been to sunrise course before, but you’ve read up on it for this moment. it was two months ago. ironically, it was when your friend took you to one of your school’s volleyball home game, which bokuto played in. halfway through the first set, you caught yourself yawning constantly. that was when you had the idea to search up places to visit during the summer break. one of your goals is to watch the sunrise and this course is the best place for it. it’s set atop a golf course facing east. it’s a public place often visited by many, yet only you and bokuto are the only ones present right now.

“it’s all to us,” you close your eyes and spread your arms to spin slowly.

“living the coming-of-age stories?” bokuto laughs as he watches you turn.

“yes,” you stop and look at him in the eyes.

“let me live it with you.”

as the sun shines, you exchange smiles with your eyes staring at each other’s. when the sunlight obscures your faces, bokuto stretches his arms and reaches for yours. the two of you have become two bodies connected into one, spinning slow enough to catch blurry glimpses of each other and the illuminating sky above. none of you made noise, just the sound of birds chirping and the air whipping from your turns. everything seems perfect, peaceful, and serene. you don’t wanna let go, but at the tenth one, you both get dizzy. you grab his arm for support, but since he’s also losing his balance, you two fall butt first on the golf course’s fake grass. the impact is so shocking, you immediately look at each other, eyes wide and in surprise.

then, you burst into laughter, throwing your head back to let your face feel the light. without you noticing, bokuto examines your pretty, illuminating face, the sunlight uncovering the glow that hid within. he’s never found someone so beautiful, so carefree, and so perfect.

“that was fun,” bokuto smiles, short breathed.

too tired to talk, you nod and smile at him as a response.

“tired?” he tilts his head with a face of worry.

“a little bit,” you reply before yawning.

“come on, let’s get you some rest.”

bokuto stands up and offers a hand that you willingly take.

48 hours

even with your eyes closed, you could feel the warmth and see the sunlight peeking from outside. the city is now awake. you groggily open your eyes and turn over to face away from the sunlight. to your surprise, the other side of the room greets you with a small kitchen against the wall of the bathroom. your eyes widen, realizing that the room you’re in right now is the only vacant room the hotel could offer. the problem is, it only has one bed, so where did bokuto sleep?

you quickly sit up from the bed to look for him. and there he is, sleeping peacefully right below you, cuddled in a spare pillow and blanket. as if he could feel your stares, bokuto’s eyes slowly open to meet yours. he smiles at the sight of you.

“good morning,” he greets with a husky voice, his morning voice.

you melt at his gaze and smile.

“i’m so sorry,” you shut your eyes as guilt overcomes you.

“for what?” you could hear him sit up.

“you slept on the floor!” you reply in embarrassment. “i’m so sorry,” you repeat with your face buried deep in your hands.

you peek at him in between your fingers, he blankly stares at you before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“what?” you raise your head out of confusion.

“it’s cute how you’re more upset about it than me,” he giggles while running his hands through his hair. it looks like cotton candy with its volume and messy ruffles.

“so, you are upset.”

“no. i don’t think i can ever get mad at you.”

“just admit it, i understand. i’d be mad too if i had to sleep on the floor after a tiring trip.”

“seriously, don’t get so hung over it. i’m not mad.”

“i’m so-“

“shh,” bokuto cuts you off with a finger against your lips. “let’s just get ready for breakfast and enjoy the day,” he adds before stretching his hands for you to take, lifting you up and out the bed.

“okay.”

“what’s the plan for today?” bokuto whispers in your ear as you two line up for breakfast. you could feel his breath against your neck, it’s cold and smell of mint.

“for the first half, i was thinking we could visit hachikō, maybe shop? then have a picnic at a park.”

“sounds fun, i’m totally in.”

“even if you weren’t, you have no choice but to come along,” you cheekily say, lightly bumping his chest with your elbow.

“why do you say that?” he lifts an eyebrow.

“because you changed my mind.”

“on what?”

“on doing this trip alone, ever since you asked to tag along.”

“rest assured, i never and will think of backing out.”

you hold up your pinky finger, signaling you want him to promise his words. without hesitation, he intertwines his pinky with yours, sealing the promise.

“there it is!” you excitedly point at the bronze statue of hachikō, a dog whose loyalty was so strong that it visited the station everyday for nine years, waiting for their owner who has passed.

“how is there so many people already?” bokuto mutters under his breath, his eyes scanning the crowd, a mix of natives and foreigners.

“let’s line up for a picture,” you grip bokuto’s wrist, dragging him closer to the statue.

“haven’t you seen this before?” he asks, pulling out his phone to visit your social media page.

“it just never gets old,” you turn around to face him with a smile. “don’t worry, no one from school will know we’re spending some of our summer together, i won’t upload it anywhere.”

he doesn’t say anything, his hands just make their way to pet the statue as if it were alive. you fight the urge to gently lay your hand on top of his, your fingers slowly intertwining.

“say cheese!” you yell to help snap out of your thoughts. it’s barely even a day yet, you cannot be forming feelings for him already.

the two of you hold up peace signs, wide grins stretching across your faces. bokuto sneaks another one with his phone.

“is it a good picture?” bokuto’s voice emerges from behind you.

“huh?” you lean closer to him, sneaking a peak at the picture he’s talking about. your heart jumps, so high it might just pop out of your chest. your phone vibrates in your back pocket, informing you about a notification. upon seeing the alert, you could feel your cheeks heat up uncontrollably. a picture of you and bokuto, uploaded to his feed, publicly seen and viewed by everyone.

“so many interactions already,” he gasps as if his other posts don’t get the same, if not, more attention.

“everyone’s gonna think you’re hanging out with a loser,” you turn away to examine the picture closer.

“you’re not, what the hell?” bokuto quickly retorts.

“calm down, it’s a joke,” you chuckle, scrolling through an endless amount of confused comments under the picture.

“do you not like it?” bokuto peeks out from your shoulder. he’s close, dangerously close. you could feel your cheeks heat up again.

“no, i like it,” you double tap at the screen, “i like it very much,” you bow your head lower, covering up your crimson cheeks.

for the rest of the afternoon, you’ve decided to practically visit every shop you could find.

“here’s a challenge,” bokuto rubs his hands together. you can tell he’s excited about something.

“i’m down, what is it?” your eyes widen out of excitement.

“at every store we go in, we have to buy one thing for each other,” imitating your actions earlier, he sticks out a pinky for you to seal.

“accepted,” you grin, sealing it at once.

for the thousandth time, your eyes meet again. the buzzing of the busy street declines and those who surround move slowly. you didn’t believe that someone could stop time for you, but there they are. effortlessly, bokuto freezes time.

what is it that you’re feeling? is it genuine? or merely an infatuation? secretly, you hope it’s the former.

“in three, two, one,” you count down the seconds you reveal what you got each other.

piles and piles of random objects clatter on top of the wooden table, some even spilling out the corner.

“how many did we visit? holy shit,” you laugh, astonished at the amount of souvenirs you bought.

“somewhere around uhm,” he scrolls through his camera roll, where snapshots of every store you’ve gone to are stored.

“never met someone so sentimental,” you rest your face on top of your clasped hands.

“about 17? shit, that’s a lot,” he bursts into a loud, contagious laugh that you couldn’t help but giggle along.

“let’s alternate, i don’t care if they’re from the same shop, there’s too many to match them up,” you propose as you try to sort out the clutter of objects.

bokuto eagerly nods at you. you can tell he’s excited and cannot wait to show off what he bought you.

“i’ll go first!” he volunteers, raising both of his arms. yep, he’s definitely excited. “first one is this sticker sheet,” he starts as he flaunts a glossy paper, marked with smiley faces.

you snatch it from his hands, sticking a smiley in each of your cheek.

“how is it?”

“i got you it because i love your smile, and you’re smiling right now, so i’d say very pretty,” bokuto explains, his eyes sparkling.

“if you keep complimenting me, i’m really gonna think i’m the hottest person to ever exist,” you lightly slap his hand.

“then so be it,” he quickly responds.

“okay, my turn!” you busy yourself, rummaging through the stuff you bought to hide your embarrassment. bokuto really knows how to give you butterflies. “ooh, this one, it’s very you,” you say as you pull out a volleyball figurinel.

“that’s so fucking cute,” bokuto’s eyes widen.

“right? when i first saw it, i knew i had to buy it for you.”

“aren’t figurines expensive?” he asks, closely eyeing it in your hands.

“there was a 70% sale, the store was trying to clear everything,” you boast proudly, handing it to him.

“i love it,” he takes it, handling it like it’s the most delicate piece to ever exist.

for hours, all you and bokuto did is exchange souvenirs to each other. not even a second did you feel bored. he knows how to hold a conversation so well. with bokuto, everything is filled with laughter.

next stop, some random park to have a picnic at. technically, it’s not random, since you’ve known about horizon square. it’s a popular spot, there’s no way you wouldn’t know about it. what’s great about it is that there’s a lake situated at the middle, making the atmosphere of the place even more serene. you can’t wait to visit it.

“how did i not know about this?” bokuto gasps next to you.

“not a man of culture, huh?” you tease.

“thank god for you, i have someone of culture with me,” he winks.

the butterflies that have dissipated earlier comes back, bigger in numbers.

“the sun’s setting again, y/n,” bokuto points out. he sounds sad and it’s not usual for someone extroverted like him to convey such a tone.

“lost track of time,” you collapse on top of the red gingham blanket you and bokuto share. he follows after you.

“every second with you feels like a movie,” he says with his eyes focused on the clouds.

“what kind? a slice of life? coming of age?” you question, listing possible genres. “don’t tell me horror?” you sarcastically gasp. a chuckle leaves his lips.

“romance?” he squints his eyes, avoiding you gaze.

as soon as you hear the word slip out of bokuto’s mouth, blood quickly rushes to your cheeks, tinting it redder than the roses that bloom across the lake.

“sorry,” he apologizes, then gets up to sit to hug his knees close to his chest. it’s an unfamiliar image, but he looks fragile. bokuto has a lean built, but right now, he resembles that of a fallen angel.

“for what?” your face has cooled down, so you sit up to get a closer look at him.

“i’m falling for you,” bokuto confesses, his eyes staring off into the distance.

you’re left speechless and all you could do is look at him with eyes in disbelief. no way. you never saw this happening, but again, just like he said, this trip was already spontaneous the moment he asked to come.

“if you feel uncomfortable, i’ll leave now,” his voice trails off and he stands up, getting ready to leave.

“don’t,” you reach for his hand, “stay.”

he stays still for a moment, conflicted whether he should listen or not. if he does, the pain will grow, maybe not for you, but definitely for him. but you’ve become his weakness and he can’t bring himself to reject you, so he sits back down, surrendering to love.

“you’re not the only one who’s falling, you know?” you bump his shoulder with yours.

he turns to you, surprised at what he just heard. no way.

“can i kiss you? for the first and last time?” bokuto suddenly asks, catching you off guard. you turn to him, not saying a word, just nod for consent. at that instant, his lips crash into yours. they feel exactly what they look like, smooth and soft. you could just kiss him forever.

“wait, did you say last time?” you pull away, realizing his wording.

“forget about that,” he pants for air, his tone desperate for your lips. you give in, melting at his soft kiss.

you’re lips have broken contact and the two of you are just peacefully laying on the blanket, stargazing, both eyes reflecting the night sky.

the moon and the stars have come out, glistening above you. right now, everything feels magical. no, it is magical. you hope everything stays this way.

bokuto then stands, dusting his hands after. he glances at the stars and then to you. you watch him in awe, pretty boy standing right before you.

“wanna dance?” he holds out his hand for you to take.

“of course,” you take it and use it for support to stand.

you wrap your arms around his neck and his hands find their way to your hips. in unison with each other, your bodies sway at the same time and rhythm. it’s slow, you could hear an old, love song playing in your head. the kind that’s played when the main couple at a romantic movie dances at night, candles encompassing them.

bokuto fully wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. like instinct, you bury your face into his neck.

“is it bad if i said i love you now?” you mutter without thinking.

“absolutely not,” bokuto replies, his hands running through your hair.

“then, i love you.”

“i love you too.”

you’re not one to admit feelings, in fact, you hated it. the thought of telling someone you love them irked you. but with bokuto, it’s so easy to say, like those three words only belong to him.

72 hours

the sunlight seeps inside your room, blinding you even with your eyes closed. you sit up, eyes scanning the room for bokuto. he’s nowhere to be found.

“where’d he go?” your furrow your eyebrows as you reach for your phone, expecting a message from him, but you’re greeted with none.

the bathroom is empty, his clothes are still here, but so is his phone. anxiety creeps inside you at the sight of it, but you don’t know where its roots are coming from.

a slip of crumpled paper is pinned beneath it, catching your attention. you take it, expecting a message, explaining that he’s going for a jog or buying some extra snacks. no, it’s a letter, specifically a long one.

“what is this?” you mutter under your breath, confused at why he left you one.

‘dear y/n,

i don’t know how to start this because i never planned on doing this in the first place. frankly, i decided on spending my remaining time alone. sorry, i asked to come with.

do you believe in angels? yes, like the ones in heaven. kind beings with wings desired to be acquired by many. it’s silly, i know. but do you? because i am one. i was sent here to study humans, your way of thinking and the way you hold yourself, it’s all fascinating. this study trip is three years, first year to third year of high school. at first, i thought it was too long. after you, i realized it wasn’t enough. again, it’s silly, i know. and no, you’re not going crazy.

i was built with the intent of giving love, platonic love. but as my days with you progressed, i found myself slightly, but surely transforming into someone that gave and craved the romantic kind. and you didn’t fail to receive and give.

actually, i take it back. i might sound selfish, but i’m not sorry for asking to tag along. i do not have any, not even an ounce of regret at all. with you, i watched the day start and the day end, our bodies swaying to imaginary music. it’s a great memory. i hope you don’t forget it.

so treasure this phone, it’s where our story is documented. at the very least, you have something to remember me by and that i was once real. an entity in the form a human, someone capable of knowing and be loved by you.

goodbye, y/n. i love you. i’ll love you in the form of stars, of the moon, and of the sun. forever and ever. until we meet again, y/n.

- bokuto

you hadn’t noticed it until you’ve finished reading. tears have fallen from your eyes, soaking the paper, slowly crumpling it even more.

“what the fuck?” you let out a laugh, denying of yourself the truth. “this isn’t real right? it’s a joke, right? bokuto you can come out now, wherever you’re hiding, come out,” you plead, hoping that he’ll reveal himself.

“i wanted to meet an angel,” you collapse to the floor, sobbing, hugging your knees close to your chest, “but i never wished to lose one.”

[justasparkwritings]

Illicit Affairs: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 1

Previous: You Made Me

Pairings: Namjoon & Reader (Barely)

Genre: Angst, Slice of Life 

Ratings: PG15

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: Therapy and Swearing 

Summary: Namjoon arrives in LA to begin the work he promised he would do. 

Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift

           Namjoon lays in his plane-bed, headphones blasting D-2, Daechwita, on a blind loop. The sky is dark, 30,000+ feet in the air, he knows he should be sleeping, resting at the bare minimum. But he can’t, melatonin not kicking in just yet, and his mind is too wired, filled with concerns.

           Over a two months ago, after the reckoning, Namjoon put his plans into action. You can’t take managements King, and Queen, and bishops and rooks, without having a plan for total annihilation. Namjoon decided, though without much discussion with Jungkook, what they both needed. What would be the best for both of them, and the rest of Bangtan, was guarantees in their contracts that Bang and Co wouldn’t manipulate them anymore. No more calorie counting, no more extra pay for working out more, no more using Namjoon as a weapon against Jungkook or the others. To do this, Namjoon brought in other lawyers who negotiated with Bang’s team, and in the end the seven men amended their contracts. Gone were the clauses about who they could date, gone was the clause that they couldn’t date, period, gone was Run BTS and the trickery management went through to get the men to perform. They would have ownership of their work going forward, and ownership of their work all the way back to the first Love Yourself album.

           Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jin were shocked when their contracts were handed back, careful to read through the changes. They’d been floored, wondering how Namjoon and Jungkook’s brawl could’ve resulted in this swift change in their deals. Namjoon had put it simply: change or we sue. Big Hit knew that if BTS sued them, they’d take the house, the plastic plants in the lobby, the stock options and the futures of every person on the label. They had the option to lose everything, or to surrender, tails between their legs, to the gods that are BTS.

           Namjoon knew that if this had happened three months prior, even two years, he wouldn’t have had the weight needed to push the deal through. But, in their decade plus at Big Hit, their level of power and influence, the fact that they had never signed NDA’s coupled with Namjoon’s intricate diaries, Namjoon recognized he had the power to take everything. Bang and Sejin were scared. They knew that they had a limited amount of time before BTS revolted, and if they were revolting with evidence, there was no possible solution that ended in Big Hit’s favor.

           With their new contracts came one request from Bang, Sejin and the five other members of Bangtan, one request that was truly a demand: fix Jungkook and Namjoon.

           Fixing Jungkook meant fixing Namjoon’s relationship to the maknae, which is how he finds himself flying across the globe to LA. Getting Jungkook help, away from prying eyes, was his idea. He and his love had brainstormed what would help Jungkook get through this, and this was the solution:

Jungkook would spend 3-6 months in LA undergoing rigorous outpatient therapy

Jungkook would be booked for exhaustion, body dysmorphia, alcoholism, and a host of other issues Namjoon could’ve spent his entire flight listing

Jungkook would rehearse in LA and fly back for specific stages but would otherwise record and work in LA while he went to therapy five days a week

Detox would come first, followed by a month of inpatient treatment

Then, Jungkook would be settled in his outpatient apartment, with a few Big Hit bodyguards around 24/7

Jungkook would have a sponsor in Korea and in the states, whom he reported to,

Jungkook is required to attend AA meetings twice a week for the first three months

Namjoon, would attend therapy twice a week in Korea,

Namjoon would fly to LA to spend a month going through treatment with Jungkook

           To this, they signed their names, to the promise of something better, to the hope they would find common ground. Jungkook was packed and on a plane 48 hours later. The two men had some contact through music and through their group chat, but otherwise, Jungkook kept to himself. He loved LA, the sun, the ability to exercise outside every day of the week, the blue skies… There was a level of health that came with LA, and of course the seedy underbelly of diet culture, but for Jungkook, it was a welcome change. Everyone breathed in LA, they weren’t rushing to meet deadlines or get anywhere on time, they didn’t have the next five years planned on a detailed spreadsheet. LA was relaxed, it was breezy, and with its endless supply of green juice, it was the exact place Jungkook needed to be.

           He diligently went to therapy, working exclusively with Dr. Aarons on the years of abuse he’d endured. Wrapping his mind around what had happened to him, not as love, not as building his character or strengthening his work ethic, but as a traumatic state of emotional abuse, was harder to swallow than two horse tranquilizers without water. Dr. Aarons gave him books and pamphlets on trauma and emotional abuse, which in his off hours, he read. His first month in treatment was spent in therapy sessions, a weekly Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) session, monitored exercise to help reteach him how to use his body, and reading to discuss. Some days felt like high school, or training days, when he was required to both train for debut and be a high school student. He hated it, hated studying, hated school, but to get better he had to do the work. All he could hope was at the end of this he’d feel better, maybe he'd be better too.  

           Dr. Aaron’s agreed, for the two men to make progress, to find common ground again, they needed to work through their Kilimanjaro sized problems.

           A month into treatment, Jungkook was ready and willing to begin working on repairing his most treasured relationship.

           “Namjoon, thank you for joining us here,” Dr. Aarons says, eyes darting between Jungkook, who was freshly showered and bouncing his leg up and down, and Namjoon, stoic, perched on the edge of his chair. Dr. Aarons can tell that Namjoon is less prepared than Jungkook, which is why she is in full control of this session.

           “It’s, yeah, glad to be here,” Namjoon says, head bowing.

           “I am first generation and am fluent in both English and Korean. My maiden name is Park,” Dr. Aarons smiles, letting Namjoon into her stratification of both cultures. “We can flow from English to Korean at any point.”

           “Thank you,” Namjoon bows again.

           “This first session is just to create a welcoming and safe space for Jungkook to see you again. Soon he will be off, and you and I will have a bit of time to talk. I have been in communication with your therapist back in Seoul, and he has given me his thoughts as well as points that we can continue to work on as a triad. Jungkook, is there something you wanted to say to Namjoon before you go?”

           Jungkook looks at his brother, irises rising to meet his sun-twin. Namjoon’s eyes are tired, heavy, his lids weighty as he continues to battle some jetlag. Jungkook looks fucking fantastic, the sun and balanced eating working wonders on him.

           “Thank you, hyung, for being here, and thank you for being willing to work on this with me. I still hold love for you in my heart, though I don’t have to. We’ve both fucked up. I am sorry for punching you, well, beating you up, and I hope you can forgive me, if not today, at some point. And again, thank you, hyung, for fighting for me,” Jungkook’s voice breaks as he utters his last words, eyes dropping to his hands.

           “Jungkook, you did great,” Dr. Aarons reassures.

           “Thank you, Jungkookie, for being, forgiving, for still wanting to speak to me, to work with me, it,” Namjoon clears his throat, that familiar lump forming. “I know I let you down. I will always be sorry,”

           “I know, me too,”

           “Jungkook, thank you for being here today. I will see you tomorrow for our first session as a group.” Dr. Aaron’s gave the go-ahead for Jungkook to leave, and he did swiftly, giving Namjoon the chance to confide in Dr. Aarons.

           “Thank you, for doing this,” Namjoon spoke.

           “This was your idea, correct? The therapy, detox, all of it?”

           “Yes,” Namjoon feels the blood rush to his cheeks.

           “From what I understand, you’re kind of a genius, right?”

           “In music, I suppose,”

           Reaching for her notepad, Dr. Aarons’ glances down. “Mm, I spoke with Dr. Cho,”

           “Yes?”

           “He was very insightful, gave me lots of great notes and things to discuss. I wanted to start by saying that I understand the levels of abuse you went through,” She raises her head to meet his unsteady gaze, clocking the flustered expression.

  ��        “Yes,”

           “The manipulation, the invalidation, the pain. Namjoon, no one should have to experience all of that, and yet, here you are. You are strong, you are powerful, you are dedicated to your brothers. None of it excuses what you have done, but what I want to convey to you, is that a lot of your actions were not your fault.” Dr. Aarons’ runs through the list of compliments she had jotted down, notes of what to say to create a safe space for Namjoon.

           “I, I know,”

           “I know you do; I also know that isn’t how you see it.” Dr. Aarons’ sets her pen down and recrossed her legs, eyes never straying from him. She’s formidable, honored and esteemed throughout the community, domestically and abroad. Namjoon knew, he helped picked her, she was the reason Jungkook was here.

           “I still did the actions,” Namjoon sighs, “I still followed through with the plan,”

           “Yes, but the cost to you and your life was exquisite. You were a pawn,”

           “Now I am the victor,” He mumbles.

           “Tell me, Namjoon, how old did you feel when you and Jungkook fought?”

           “What do you mean?”

           “Jungkook’s recounted his memory of that night, but how did you feel? In that moment when he hit you, what age specifically did you feel?”

           He takes a moment to think, but the answer is in front of him immediately. “Fifteen,”

           “What happened at 15?”

           He shifts nervously, the rapid speed of his speech slowing as he spoke. “I was still being scouted by Big Hit, no contracts, just negotiations. My parents were, unsupportive.”

           “Within the Seoul rap community, you were making a name for yourself,” Dr. Aarons’ didn’t have to be living in Korea at the time to know who he was, everyone in the first gen community who still had any ties back home knew. You couldn’t listen to music without his mixes coming through.            “Yeah, but that only gets you so far. I was talking to Bang about these big plans for a super group, a group that combined rapping and pop, some bridge between the two and other genres… the places were going to go seemed endless.”

           “How did you feel in those negotiations?”

           Joon smiles. “I felt, ten feet tall. I mattered in those meetings,”

           “And to your parents?” Dr. Aaron’s questions.

           “I was just their high schooler, hormonal, with dreams bigger than my mind could hold. They, they didn’t want me to do it,”

           “But you went for it,” She smiles gently.

           “I did, yeah,” Namjoon, hates flattery. Call it his sun sensibility, his rays unable to shine under the humility of the grey cloud he kept above himself.

           “What else happened around that time?” She presses.

           Namjoon nods again, knowing exactly where she’s leading him. “That’s when I started receiving a lot of hate,”

           “Mm, tell me about that,”

           “Do I have to?” He asks, voice no longer strong and steady.

           “Not if you don’t want to,” She replies.

           “It’s just,” Namjoon sighs. “It still hurts.”

           “I expect it to. The comments were very personal,”

           “About how I look, about the shape of my nose, the sound of my voice, that I’ll never amount to anything and BTS is just, complete trash passing off as music.” He rattles off the ones that plague him, when self-doubt creeps in, the comments that still rise to the top of the pack.

           “They escalated, didn’t they?”

           “Don’t they always?”

           She smiles softly, a precursor to the next blow. “Did you internalize them?”

           “Yes,”

           “When Jungkook hit you,” She starts.

           “It was like every internet troll finally getting their chance to swing,” Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to finish the thought.

           “Ahh, there it is.” Dr. Aaron’s allows Namjoon a minute to sit in the realization. “What hurt the most? The physical pain, or the emotional weight you put behind it?”

           “I haven’t thought about it like that,” He realizes.

           “Well let’s think about it now,” Her voice is kind, leading him to the pasture but never feeding. No wonder everyone raved about her.

           “It was the emotions,” He concedes.

           “Can you describe what those emotions were?”

           “Anger, frustration, inadequacy, disappointment, like I had just shattered the entire world I’d given every bit of myself to creating.”

           “That wasn’t why Jungkook was hitting you, though,” Dr. Aarons’ informs him.

           “It wasn’t?”

           “You tell me, why would he be hitting you?”

           “I,” Namjoon exhales, “I betrayed him.”

           “Did you let him down?”

           “Yes,”

           “But did he view you as inadequate?” She pushes.

           “No,” Namjoon whispers, voice caught between his vocal chords as the waves of tears start to gain on him.

           Dr. Aarons’ smiles again, “No, has he ever?”

           “No,” Namjoon shakes his head, hand wiping the tears that have fallen.

           “It seems to me like it’s quite the opposite. Jungkook loves you, pure and simple.”

           “I betrayed him,” Namjoon argues.

           “Betrayal and inadequacy are often put together, at least in our minds. We betray someone, or a relationship, because it’s either not enough for us, or because it’s too much. The dissonance between you and Jungkook is that his anger is misplaced, he can claw at you because you are there, you are present, you are with him every day. He’s shooting the messenger, but you didn’t write the messages, Namjoon.”

           “I don’t know if he understands that,”

           “There’s only so much I can do to separate what he feels towards you, and what he realizes isn’t your fault. In our time together, as a trio, we will hopefully work towards understanding these complexities within your relationship. Sound good?”

           “Yeah, sounds good,”

           “Great! I don’t have any work for you, other than, well, a major piece of homework,”

           “Bring it on,” Namjoon loves work. Pure and simple.

           “You can’t have dinner with Jungkook tonight, or engage with him in a private setting,” Dr. Aarons’ instructs.

           “Makes sense,” Namjoon agrees.

           “We’ll begin work on it tomorrow, but until then, you have to stay apart,”

           “I can do that, we’re staying in separate places,”

           “Great, Namjoon, I am really looking forward to working with you,” Dr. Aarons stands. “I hope you enjoy your day in LA,”

           “See you tomorrow,” Namjoon smiles gratefully before exiting her office, his phone at the ready, texts from Yoongi and Hoseok, Taehyung and the rest of Bangtan to check in on him. And then there’s the text from his love, who as he steps into the sun, is waiting for him.

           “Joon of my eye, what a pleasure it is to see you,”

           Though the smile is clearly plastered across his face, it’s the way his arms circle your waist, head nuzzling into your neck, lips pressing firmly to your skin.

           “I fucking missed you,” He mutters.

           “You’re being so affectionate, in public,”

           “No one’s here,” Namjoon says, head still resting against your shoulder.

           “That eye opening, huh?” Your hands move up and down his back, the comfort radiating from your familiar embrace.

           “Mm, can we go?” He asks, standing to his full height.

           “To your place?”

           “Anywhere,” He slips his sunglasses over his eyes, the mist beginning to cloud his vision.

           “Of course,” You respond, hand finding his, fingers intertwining. With his baseball cap pulled low on his head, Namjoon is barely recognizable. He doesn’t hesitate to move his free hand across your shoulders, holding onto you as you guide him to your rental car. He might’ve been the messenger of Bang’s threats and manipulations, but a pawn is still a pawn. Namjoon had taken the board in his game against Big Hit, but in Jungkook’s universe, under Jungkook’s rules, he’s still a piece in motion.  

Next: Beautiful Rooms Pt. 2

[hartigays]

ooh if you’re still doing the fluff/angst prompts could you do 14 + harringrove? I love your writing and you could do something amazing with this 🖤

14. “Get your hands off of me!”

“harrington, what the hell are you doing?”

steve doesn’t answer, not bothering to look up. he’s focused intently on the row of dominos that he’s carefully setting up, his tongue poking out and his brow furrowed in concentration.

“voilà!” steve shouts, finally getting the last domino in place. he claps his hands and rubs them together in anticipation.

billy arches a brow, giving steve a bored look. but steve doesn’t pay him any mind, just tiptoes carefully over the dominos weaving around the living room of their apartment, kneeling down and counting backwards from three before setting them in motion.

it takes all of thirty seconds for the carefully constructed line to fall, but steve still looks at billy with a goofy smile, his eyebrows raised in question. as if to silently ask pretty cool, huh?

“oh, come on,” steve huffs at the unimpressed look billy levels him with. “that was at least kind of cool, admit it.”

“you spent three hours setting that up,” billy points out. “instead of taking out the trash. like i asked you to do earlier. three hours earlier, to be exact.”

it’s steve’s turn to roll his eyes. he spins on his heel and flops backward onto the couch. “whatever. time is arbitrary in quarantine.”

“don’t whatever me,” billy says with a sniff, examining his cuticles. “just clean it up before bed. i don’t want to come out here for water in the middle of the night and break my ass slipping on a fuckin’ domino.”

“fine, mom.” steve tosses a tennis ball in the air as he speaks, making faces at the ceiling like a child. “whatever you say.”

billy moves to lean over steve on the couch, flicking him on the forehead while flashing a toothy grin. “damn right.”

it’s been three weeks since the governor issued an official stay-at-home order. three weeks of binging netflix, playing video games, and scrolling through the same few social media apps over and over.

steve had grown antsy and stir-crazy by the end of week one, needing to find some new activity or another to occupy his mind and body to keep from going nuts.

billy, on the other hand, has kept himself busy with a stack of books about a mile high, and his at-home workout routines. steve’s also been eating better, given the amount of cooking billy’s been doing now that he’s home full time.

while steve bounces from one activity to another, restless and understimulated, billy seems to be transitioning easily into their new way of life, as he tends to do with most things.

steve is only a little bitter.

“how are you not bored out of your mind?” steve gripes. he tosses the tennis ball onto the armchair adjacent to the couch, already tired of it.

billy had moved into the kitchen, and he looks up from the cookbook he’d been flipping through. “i dunno. ‘s not so bad. i can sleep in now, cook dinner more. i even learned how to make paella recently.”

“the fuck is paella?” steve snorts, sitting up on his elbows to stare at billy over the back of the couch.

“it’s going to be dinner tonight,” billy says easily, shrugging. “it’s good, trust me.”

steve just shrugs, flopping back down and closing his eyes. he doesn’t care what billy puts in front of him - the less he has to cook, the better. it’s just not in his wheelhouse.

besides, billy is a natural cook. there hasn’t been anything he’s made that steve’s been unimpressed with. so he leaves billy to do his thing, pulling out his phone and scrolling through twitter, half-listening to the familiar sound of billy puttering around the kitchen.

steve spends a few hours going between napping and mindlessly scrolling through his phone. by the time he pushes himself off the couch with a yawn and a stretch, it’s already getting dark outside. he shuffles into the kitchen, following the delicious smells coming from within.

billy’s still cooking away, his brow furrowed in concentration. he’s stirring something on the stove, poring over the recipe in the cookbook before him. he looks incredibly in his element, moving about with ease, seamlessly transitioning from one task to the next.

steve doesn’t think it’s weird that he could watch billy do this all day. it’s always nice to see someone doing something they’re passionate about with such dedication. and if there’s a secret part of him that has an innate appreciation for billy in an apron, well.

sue him.

it’s not like finding billy attractive is anything new to steve. it’s the 21st century, steve tends not to dwell on those kinds of things. he doesn’t, however, feel the need to clue billy in to those particularly appreciative thoughts about him in his cooking attire.

they’re stuck in isolation together for the foreseeable future. there’s no sense in stirring up trouble or discomfort - they’ve got enough going on already. steve’s not-so-G-rated thoughts about billy and his apron aren’t between anyone but him and god himself.

he just admires from afar, trying to not indulge too often in his racy thoughts about his roommate, who also happens to be his long-time best friend.

it’s no secret, however, that those thoughts had been easier to ignore before, when they spent a large part of their days apart. billy would be at work or in class and steve could always be found guiding himself through his own busy schedule.

as university students, they’d had pretty chaotic lives before the world came to a grinding halt. they were both generally busy with their own lives, and steve had enough going on that he didn’t often have time to dwell on how his thoughts were increasingly crossing the line between friendship and something more.

and just because they’re now together 24/7, with all the time in the world for steve to confront the reality of his little predicament, it doesn’t mean steve is worried. not at all. not even a little bit.

steve has this silly idea that maybe if he says it enough times, he’ll start to believe it.

“smells good in here,” steve comments. he leans up against the counter next to the stove, peering over billy to sneak a peek at what he’s working on.

billy pauses his stirring, scooping a small portion of what looks like rice onto his spoon and holding it up to steve’s lips. he lets billy pop the bite into his mouth, his eyes lighting up at the burst of flavor that spreads across his tongue. whatever it is, it’s delicious. steve licks his lips appreciatively.

“yum.”

billy just nods, looking pleased. “it’ll be ready in about ten minutes. hey, grab me a beer, will you?”

steve grabs two beers from the fridge, passing one off to billy and cracking the other one open for himself. he heads back into the living room, curling back up on the couch and scrolling through netflix.

by the time he manages to find a documentary that they haven’t seen before, billy’s walking into the living room, balancing two plates in his hands. his beer is stuffed in the crook of his elbow, and steve sits up to grab the plate from billy before he can spill beer all over the floor.

“what’d you pick out?” billy asks once they dig in, nodding at the television.

steve swallows a mouthful of food, giving a satisfied hum of approval. “some new nature documentary. i think it’s about whales or sharks or something like that.”

“sounds like a real fleshed-out choice,” billy snorts, but he doesn’t object to steve’s selection.

“hey, you’re the one who’s always complaining that we waste so much time scrolling through the same stuff every day,” steve points out. “i’m just saving us the trouble.”

billy just huffs out a laugh before taking a swig of his beer. “i never said not having to scroll for an hour was a bad thing.”

the lapse into silence as the show starts, watching with meager interest as the intro credits begin. it’s quiet until steve takes a particularly delicious bite of his food, practically moaning around his spoon.

“this is delicious, by the way,” steve says, glancing over at billy. “what’d you say this is called?”

billy’s giving him a strange look, one that has steve’s cheeks heating up and the tips of his ears turning pink.

“paella,” billy answers finally, clearing this throat and averting his eyes

steve stares at billy for a moment longer, opening his mouth to speak before realizing he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, letting it fall shut again.

there’s a weird tension hanging between them for the rest of the night. steve tries not to fixate on it, but it’s hard when he’d picked out the most boring documentary in the history of time itself.

billy doesn’t even meet his eyes when he says goodnight later, after they’ve watched a few episodes and cleaned up the kitchen. steve can’t help but wonder if maybe he said something wrong without realizing it, watching billy retreat to the safety of his bedroom.

steve tosses and turns for most of the night, plagued by incredibly weird and startlingly vivid dreams. dreams about monsters that lurk in the shadows and kids with superpowers and bad men in their secret labs. similar to the ones he had back in high school, back when his life was turned inside out and upside down. only these are brighter, more intense, somehow weirder than before.

there’s a gasp dying on steve’s lips when he bolts upright in bed, the image of a hyper-realistic demogorgon with a decaying human face that he’s uncomfortably sure was barb’s still burned into his mind. he’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his stomach churning. his mouth is unbelievably dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of it.

steve pushes his sweat-matted hair from his forehead, climbing out of bed and padding into the kitchen. he gulps down two glasses of water, trying to will away the trembling of his hands.

it’s when he’s walking back to his room that he slips on something, crashing backward and busting his ass hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. steve’s tailbone collides with the ground first, followed by his elbows, and then his head.

steve groans, pushing himself up off the ground. he feels lightheaded and disoriented, the back of his head throbbing something awful. distantly, steve hears what sounds like a door opening, followed by footsteps.

the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up when someone crouches down beside him. steve can’t get his eyes to focus while he’s this dizzy and the room is this dark. he jumps nearly a foot in the air when a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

“get your hands off of me!” steve yelps, smacking the mystery hands away from him and scooting across the floor to put distance between him and the body hovering next to him.

“hey, hey, steve, calm down, it’s just me. it’s just billy.”

steve squints through the darkness, his heart hammering in his chest. he can finally make out the defining features of the person that is most definitely billy, crouching in front of him and looking at him with a mixture of pure bewilderment and what he’s pretty sure is worry.

groaning, steve rubs the back of his head with a grimace. “ow...”

“told you to clean the damn dominos up,” billy mutters, sitting back on his heels as he tilts steve’s head down, examining the damage. “did you hit it hard?”

steve just nods, wincing as he does. “yeah. hit my ass and elbows harder, though.”

billy huffs out a soft laugh, taking steve’s bicep and lifting his arm to inspect his elbow.

“i think you’ll live,” billy says after a few moments, letting steve’s arm drop. “the hell were you doing wandering around the house in the dark at three in the morning, anyway?”

“i was getting some water,” steve tells him, rubbing his elbow with a frown. “i was having really weird dreams. i feel dizzy, are you sure i don’t have a concussion?”

billy shifts closer, trying to move steve’s mass of hair enough to look more closely at the lump on the back of his head.

“well, you’re not bleeding. if you have a concussion, it’s mild,” billy says with a shrug. “but i think you’re in the clear. what kind of dreams were they?”

steve doesn’t say anything for a moment before giving a halfhearted shrug. “same dreams i always have. they were just, like....super vivid this time, you know?”

“might’ve been the shellfish in the paella,” billy muses, humming thoughtfully. “certain foods can give you more vivid dreams, almost like fever dreams. shellfish are a pretty common culprit.”

billy takes one last look at the back of steve’s head before grabbing his hand, tugging him up off the ground. steve’s head swims once he’s upright, and he tips forward, crashing directly into billy. billy’s arms go around him immediately, holding him steady.

“you okay?” billy asks, his brows furrowed in concern.

steve blinks rapidly, his brain slowly catching up to the position he’s currently in. he feels the tips of his ears get hot, disentangling himself from billy and backing away, putting several feet of distance between them.

“yeah, i - um. sorry, that wasn’t intentional.”

steve averts his eyes, though billy’s stay trained on steve, that strange look from before back on his face. something shifts in his expression, billy giving him a thoughtful look.

“on second thought,” billy says finally, “you should crash in my room. so i can keep an eye on you. wouldn’t want you nursing a head injury alone, in case anything happens.”

“the hell do you mean, if anything happens?” steve questions, his hand flying up to the back of his head. he opens his mouth to ask another panicked question, but it closes quickly once he realizes what billy is offering. “wait, you mean you want me to stay with you? in your bed? like, together?”

“sure, if you want,” billy says, sounding casual while looking anything but. “you know, for safety.”

“for safety,” steve repeats slowly, swallowing thickly. “okay. okay, yeah. do you think i might need - um. mouth-to-mouth? for safety?”

steve’s heart is hammering in his chest before the question fully leaves his mouth. billy just stares at him for a long moment, before cracking a goofy grin, giving him a slightly disbelieving look. “steve, that is the corniest fucking thing you have ever said.”

“oh, shut up. i have a traumatic brain injury,” steve counters with an unimpressed sniff, trying to play it off like his heart doesn’t feel like it’s about to beat right out of his chest. “sue me.”

“right, your horrific bump on the head,” billy nods, fighting a smile. “guess you should come over here and let me take another look. for safety, of course.”

“safety’s very important,” steve acknowledges as he crosses the room, slowly putting one foot in front of the other.

steve stops short in front of billy, hesitating. billy closes the remaining distance, reaching up to gently feel the bump on the back of steve’s head, though his eyes never leave steve’s.

“that really is a nasty knot,” billy says offhandedly, a flicker of concern appearing in his eyes and disappearing just as quickly. “maybe some ice would help?”

“thought you were writing me a prescription for something else,” steve mumbles.

billy looks momentarily confused, before steve closes the distance and seals their lips together. billy yields almost instantaneously, his mouth opening to steve as if they’ve done this a million times before.

now that he’s face-to-face with it, steve isn’t sure how he was able to dance around it for so long. billy’s lips are soft and pliant beneath his, and he kisses steve languidly, like they have all the time in the world and he knows it. he has one hand curled into steve’s hair, the other splayed across his jaw. when billy nips at steve’s bottom lip, it sends sparks skittering down steve’s spine and goosebumps erupting across his skin.

all steve can see, smell, and taste is billy and he’s dizzy with it, unsteady on his feet. which could be attributed in part to steve’s little bump on the head, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind to worry about later. he sways a little, causing their mouths to break apart. billy takes steve’s hand keeping him steady.

“c’mon, let’s get you to bed,” billy says, his breathing a little ragged. “you can get the full hargrove treatment in the morning, when you’re not borderline concussed.”

“you’re the one who’s getting a medical degree,” steve protests, even as billy pulls him to his bedroom. “i was just following the doctor’s orders.”

“right, well. this doctor is ordering you to lay down and get some sleep,” billy counters. he helps steve climb into bed, scooting in next to him once steve has slid over to give him some room.

billy lets steve wrap himself around him like a koala without protest, only humming softly in approval.

“maybe quarantine’s not so bad,” steve muses after a few beats of silence, yawning.

“you’re just saying that because you get to kiss me every day now.”

“that so?” steve asks, chuckling softly. “guess that means i should get some sleep so i can be well-rested for a big day of kisses tomorrow.”

“go to sleep, harrington,” billy snorts, burying his face into steve’s neck.

“‘night billy.”

“sweet dreams, princess.”

[paradox-psyc-hoe-sis]

The Avengers dealing with a sick reader :)

Avengers x teen!reader (platonic), Bucky Barnes x teen!reader (platonic)

Summary: after the reader gets ill, the avengers take it upon themselves to care for you! Written by Aphrodite ;)

Word count: 1.34k (whoops, I went slightly overboard)

Warnings: throwing up, headaches, feeling dizzy, aspirin, nausea.

• You first realised you were sick while you were studying at the Avengers tower on a Saturday morning.

• Both you and Peter were studying for a maths exam that you had in a few days, and Tony was trying to help as much as he could.

• Peter asked the most questions, you were too tired to even open your mouth.

• "Mr Stark, I don't get it"

"You've just got to cross multiply, kid."

• You couldn't believe how stupid Tony Stark was at high school math.

• "You don't cross multiply, Peter. You divide the negative integers and then multiply the denominators." You didn't have the energy to give Tony the death glare so instead you just rubbed at your aching head.

• "What? No, that's not how they taught it when I was in school."

"Uh, y/n's right, Mr Stark. They must have changed it."

"You can't just change math, kid."

"Well I don't know why it's different, let's ask-"

• They were going to ask you what the difference was, but when they both turned to you, you had your head on the desk and were asleep.

• They didn't know what to do so they just left you there. Wow.

• You woke up 40 minutes later with the worst stomach ache EVER.

• When you sat up from the table, you realised that Peter and Tony had balanced pencils on the back of your head and they all fell on the floor.

• Between your pounding headache and churning stomach, the loudness of the pencils hitting the floor sent you over the edge.

• You ran to the bin on the other side of the table just in time for you to throw up pretty much all that you had eaten in the past 24 hours.

• And by 'all of the food you had eaten in the past 24 hours', I mean a single black coffee and a rice krispies treat.

• Because you were so caught up in the immense amount of pain you were in, you hadn't realised that Scott Lang was sat on the sofa in the living room, which is merely meters away from where you once sat at the table.

• "Oh my god, are you okay?"

• You turned to him, the most sarcastic look on your face.

• "Oh yeah, I'm just dandy." You kept your voice completely monotonous.

• You loved him really...

• Then the second wave of nausea hit you, so you turned to the bin again and emptied the rest of your stomach.

• Hearing the commotion, Tony walked in. He saw you hurling into the bin, turned around, and left.

• "Ew." He added before leaving the room.

• Scott came over once you were finished and walked you back to your bedroom, telling you that he'd come and check on you soon.

• As soon as you practically touched your bed, you were asleep.

• Scott did come and check in on you, bringing a box of tissues and some aspirin, but you were asleep and didn't want to disturb you.

• A few hours later you woke up to Bucky coming into your room, carrying a tray.

• "They told me you were sick, and I was the only one brave enough to come and bring you food."

• You both laughed, and he set down the tray. There was a glass of water, a bowl of noodle soup, and a small bar of chocolate.

• He brought a small bin with him too, and once he set the tray down on your bedside table he began picking up the tissues that were scattered around you, and putting them in the bin.

• "Thank you, Buck. I'll sort out the tissues, you don't want to get sick."

• He smiled and patted you on the head, and left you to it.

• Everyone was in the living room, and once Bucky went back in they swarmed him with questions.

• Peter would be so scared that you'd be dying, he'd start hyperventilating and wheezing like crazy.

• Steve would be so scared to come and see you omg, not because he was scared of getting ill but because he always doubts his abilities with teens.

• Don't get me wrong, you and Steve were really close, but he never thought of himself as the dad kind of person, and worried that he'd only make you feel worse if he came to see you.

• About 7 hours passed while you dozed in bed until you felt well enough to leave your room.

• It was 10pm, and you'd slept so much in the day that you couldn't possibly think about sleeping any more in the night. You had already heard three sets of footsteps walk past your door, so Peter was bound to be in bed by now, along with 2 other people.

• When you finally made your way back to the common area, you realised that there was nobody there. You grunted and picked up your blanket from the sofa. Despite everything feeling achy, Tony had brought you a coffee an hour ago, and you felt full of energy.

• Putting on a pair of slippers, there was only one thing you could do to pass the time until somebody came to the living room. Putting the blanket behind you and holding it to your neck like a cape, you ran along the halls of the tower, pretending to be Thor.

• You ran back and forth, back and forth. Past the bedrooms, through the labs, into the foyer, and all the way back. You made it back up to the bedrooms, and before running into the living room again, you whisper shouted, making sure to get the impression right.

• "I am Thor, son of Odin, GOD OF LIGHTNING!!!"

• And as you ran into the living room, you heard a small cough come from behind you. Your room was closest to the living room, and turning around timidly, you saw Rhodey stood at the door of your room, with his arms crossed. Yet, he was smiling.

• "You know, we all have different ways of coping with being sick, but maybe you should go back to bed..."

• You groaned and plopped yourself down on the sofa.

• "Where is everyone else? I only heard 3 people go to bed."

• Turns out, Peter, Bucky, and Scott had all gone to bed. The rest of the avengers had a meeting in the conference room. When you ran past the conference room in your great imitation of Thor, all of them saw you through the windows, but you weren't paying attention. Thor laughed so hard he peed a little bit, apparently, and that certainly cheered you up.

• "Do you want to watch a movie?"

• "Nuh uh, no way, y/n. I'm not getting sick. If you want to watch a movie then either go back to bed or go and infect Buck. He said he felt like he was catching your cold anyway."

• Rhodey went back to his meeting, and you felt a sudden wave of tiredness pass through your body. You went to the pantry and grabbed two cupcakes, a box of aspirin and two chocolate milkshakes.

• You quickly went to your room and grabbed a film before knocking on Bucky's door.

• "Rhodes told me you felt ill. I know you don't sleep much, and I can't sleep, so I thought we could watch a movie?"

You spoke quietly through the door, not wanting to intrude. The door opened and you plopped yourself on the bed next to Bucky, putting your snack down on the table next to you.

• "Alright kid, what movie did you pick? It better not be a Disney film, because last time we watched one of those, it ended in both of us singing Let It Go at the top of our lungs at midnight."

• You chuckled at the memory and made Bucky choose between The Breakfast Club and Love Actually. Of course, he chose the latter. You were the only person who knew that Bucky's a sucker for romance films.

• Bucky put his arm around you as you cuddled into his side. Within the first 10 minutes, you were asleep. Typical.

• Bucky stroked your hair as you silently slept, and whenever a song came on, he'd sing quietly, which made you smile in your sleep.

• After an extremely long day, this was the perfect escape.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Bluegrass-Chapter 24

                    Much love to @Statell for making my stories flow.

Previous chapter on AO3

Chapter Twenty-Four

The shop owner bent over his worktable and pried the stones out of the gold setting. The ring was fourteen karat gold and would fetch a nice price. When the bell above the door tinkled, he looked up at a lady coming to the counter. She tossed a large ring on the counter.

“Sell or pawn?”

“Sell.”

He looked at her and reached for his loop. She looked like a street person so how did she come by this, he wondered. To his amazement the diamonds were real, and the gold tested to eighteen karat. His heart was ramming.

“Who’d you steal this from lady?”

“It’s mine, you ignorant asshole.”

“Sorry, I can’t help you. Try down the street.”

She grabbed the ring and looked at the man with her one good eye. “Fuck you.”

He watched her carry her bulk toward the door and waved his hand in the air to chase away her body odor.

The woman tried two more pawn shops and the third was owned by someone with fewer scruples. He bought the ring for one thousand dollars plus a gun. It was a lady Smith and Wesson five-shooter. She grabbed a box of shells on her way out, looking at the man defiantly. He ran to lock his door and start making calls. This ring would sell quickly for ten thousand. If it wasn’t hot, he could ask fifty thousand easily. He flipped open his phone book and started dialing.

The sweaty woman stumbled into Walmart and felt the cool air inside provide a little more energy for the last item she needed. Twenty minutes later she held her new phone to her ear and ordered a taxi to take her to the Motel 6. She paid the driver without a tip and heaved herself out of the car. There were working girls and ugly people all around the place. She would fit right in.

Walking up to the desk, she pulled her shirt down over the roll of fat that bulged from her tight waistband. The clothes she was arrested in were now three sizes too small. Prison food is created to keep hundreds of people full for a few hours. Not much thought went into the caloric intake or a balanced meal. Carbohydrates and fat were the main ingredients of her diet for eleven months and she tipped the scale at two-hundred and fifty pounds. The clothes she wore were donated by the prison and they were cutting her in half.

Pulling her coach wallet out of her bag she pulled her license and scooted it toward the clerk. Ten minutes later she was locking her door and scowling at the traffic noise right outside her window. It would have to do.

She was exhausted. It took all night to get processed out of jail and then shown the door to freedom at five o’clock in the morning. She would sleep a bit and then call her father. He will want her to come home because there was nothing for her in Kentucky. He would put her mother on the phone who would beg and cry for her daughter to come back to Scotland. That could wait as well, she decided.

For eleven months she has thought of little else then Jamie Fraser, the man who stole millions of dollars from her by denying her any rights to the business or his new horse. Word went around the prison that Midnight Runner won the Triple Crown and that meant an extraordinary life was now his to live while she was shipped back to Scotland like yesterday’s trash. God she hated him.

Isobel laid down on the bed but thinking about Jamie got her so riled up she couldn’t sleep. Maybe a hot shower would help. The rundown hotel had a small mirror in the bathroom, the first clear mirror in eleven months. She looked at her face and tears rolled down her fat cheeks. One of her eyelids opened only a slit after she was punched in the forehead during a prison fight. The nerve damage was permanent. She looked at her hair cut almost to her scalp. A going-away present from the bitches who hated her and kept her in solitary much of the time. She recalled being held on the ground while the meanest of them cut off her hair. It stuck out in all directions and she tried to smooth it down with water, but nothing helped. She was raging inside at what he did to her. This was all his fault.

Isobel’s father kept money on her books, the maximum allowable at the insistence of her mother. Isobel had nothing but disdain for other women making it quite impossible to make friends who could help her. She bargained her commissary for favors and finally found someone with a relative who would look up Chad’s whereabouts. He was in the Kentucky State Penitentiary in Eddyville and she wrote to him every day and couldn’t wait to hear back. Months went by with no word and she became hurt, and then mad. She sent another letter and on the outside of the envelope in small letters, she wrote “you little puke of a man why won’t you answer me?” She didn’t expect a response and when one came it was short and to the point.

‘Enduring your disgusting presence and vomit worthy sex was a means to an end. You self-absorbed cow. You never figured out I was gay because you were busy looking at yourself, with or without a mirror. It made it easy to manipulate you. Happy now?’

That was Jamie’s fault as well, she stormed in her head. He deserves to be skinned alive and forced to watch. She wouldn’t risk him getting the upper hand, so she had to settle for a bullet in his head.

She picked up her purse and left. There was a liquor store on the corner and she needed whisky, and a lot of it.

Claire woke up in an empty bed and noticed a note on her side table. She smiled as she read it.

“It is a perfect day to sit on the sundeck and read. There is nothin you need to do today, and I won’t be long with Michael.”

They had purchased a new double-wide ergonomic chase and had not tried it out yet. Maybe they could read the book together. While she waited for Jamie, she chose pages throughout the book to read and was very impressed with Michael’s writing. The theme running throughout the book was about kindness to the horse through various means, particularly the whip. He advocated the elimination of pain as a motivator. It would change horse racing completely because the competitors would be running because they wanted to win. The horse had to love running and it could be done, according to Michael, but training and reward had to change.

Claire wondered how this book would differ from Nosh’s. He was coming to Kentucky the following week and would spend the day with them. She was excited to fulfill her promise to finish her story, whether he believed her or not.

Jamie dropped Michael at his hotel just after noon. He would be joining them for dinner tonight and would UBER back around seven o’clock. Jamie looked forward to an afternoon lounging with his best girl.

For the rest of the day, Jamie and Claire took turns reading the book and powered through half of it before cuddling on the chase to nap a bit.

“Sassenach.” Jamie ran his hand down her arm until she opened her eyes. “Will ye come with me to bring the horses in?”

She smiled up at him and nodded yes before pulling her jeans and boots on. They walked to the barn and discussed the book, both commenting on how much they had forgotten about those crazy days. They brought fifteen horses in, two at a time, then went to bring in the mares and babies. Claire laughed at the antics of the foals, running ahead and then freezing with fear when they couldn’t see their mothers. When all were put away for the night, they made one more trip for Runner and Porcelain. When Jamie watched them running to the gate, he looked at Claire with a big smile.

“I’d like to bring Porcelain into season early and breed her in February.”

“To him?”

It was settled. Porcelain would be Runner’s first cover and Claire was thrilled. A touch of romance in an otherwise clinical setting of the breeding room. They would be each other’s first.

As they walked home, Jamie threw up his arms and announced he had finished the repairs on Runner’s stall, and they could move them back to their larger accommodations. Claire held his hand and told him tomorrow would be soon enough. She had a shower and cooking to do.

It was a delightful time to sit with their old friend, spoil him with steak, roasted vegetables, and copious amounts of whisky. Claire considered inviting others to dinner but decided she didn’t want to share Michael’s time. They ate at the table outside and simply moved to more comfortable seats to continue the discussion.

Jamie answered the doorbell and spoke to a neighbor before announcing he would be back in ten minutes. The neighbor needed a jump. Michael offered to come and help but Jamie told him to relax, he had this.

Michael had Claire in giggle overload reminding her of times they were on the road. Claire got up to grab the coffee pot and stopped in her tracks.

“Michael, do you smell something burning.”

He stood up and said he smelled it too. When Claire opened the front door, she screamed for Michael. It was definitely a fire and somewhere close. They started running and a quarter-mile never seemed so far. The closer they got; they were more convinced it was the barn on fire. Claire punched numbers into the keypad, and Michael opened the roll away doors as smoke poured out.

“Chase them all out, Michael!”

Claire ran down the aisle pulling stall doors open until she got to Runner and Porcelain and they were not moving. None of the horses were running outside. She slapped Porcelain hard on the rump knowing Runner would follow. The mare whinnied loudly and took off for the big doors.

Claire looked at the smoke filling the barn and coughed into her shirt. She saw horses running by but could not see Michael. She continued to work her way down the aisle smacking horses so they would run to safety. She looked up and saw babies running alongside their mothers and knew Michael had gone to the dams’ wing to set them free.

Jamie waved to the neighbor as he drove down their shared road. He caught the scent of burning wood and jumped into the bed of his truck to look for smoke. Finally, he saw the embers rising into the air on his own property! With a hammering heart, he drove through the gate and saw horses scattered all over. He knew someone was at the barn and drove as fast as possible, ever watchful for a horse running across the road.

Jamie ran to the barn. His heart rate was in the stroke zone and he started coughing the second he was inside. He called for Claire as he ran down the aisle looking for any stuck horses. The dams’ wing was empty, where the hell was Claire and Michael? Or whoever let the horses out. He turned the turbines on that pulled air from the interior. They were all over the roof so he ran as fast as he could flipping them on high.

He called the fire department as he ran for Runner’s wing. The door was open and something inside him told him to proceed with caution. He could hear Claire and Michael coughing. Why were they in there? When he heard Isobel’s voice his blood turned to ice. He forced himself not to cough and give away his presence. He searched frantically for a way to get the drop on her. He had to do something before Claire and Michael died from asphyxiation.

He ran to the back of the barn where the smoke was too thick to see. He ran his hand along the wall until he felt the switches for the turbines. Filling his lungs with air he ran into the equipment room and pulled out a ten-foot length of steel pipe, very relieved it wasn’t burning hot and ran back.

Claire wasn’t coughing any more and Jamie knew she passed out with death coming for her. Without another second to think he rammed the door open and kept running as Isobel’s startled face came into view. She raised the gun just as he rammed the pipe into her stomach, impaling her on the back wall. He threw Claire over his shoulder and helped Michael to his feet pulling them outside to safety.

The fire engines were coming in slowly with no siren because Jamie explained there were horses scattered all over the property. Michael was bent over coughing and Claire was silent, unconscious. Jamie lowered her to the ground feeling more terrified than he had been in his life.

“Claire! Claire!”

The EMT’s pulled him away to render lifesaving aid to his wife, his soulmate, his whole world. Fire hydrants were installed on the land according to zoning rules and the men soon had two flows of water directed at the fire. Jamie heard more sirens coming only to go silent as they negotiated the gate and keypad.

The ambulance EMT’s were given instructions to open the gate and wait for it to close to make sure no horses escaped. The driver knew there were critical injuries and it took all his training and willpower not to barrel ahead to the injured. Jamie was covered with soot and sweat as he gripped his wife’s hand.

“Please Claire, ye must fight yer way back to me or I will surely die with ye.”

He was pulled away as they wheeled the gurney into the ambulance, Michael was loaded into a second vehicle. Jamie sank to his knees as a great crash came from the barn and a plume of embers rose into the night sky. Jamie didn’t flinch. He couldn’t move as he was locked into his pleading prayers to God.

A great fireball exploded into the dark sky and men were yelling about a secondary fire. Jamie heard none of it and continued to pray.

The captain pulled Jamie up and brought him under the light spreading out a schematic of the barn interior.

“Is there anyone else in the building?”

Jamie pointed to Runner’s wing. The fire captain pulled him to the large engine and told him to sit down. The huge fire engines took up all the space available in front of the barn and police cruisers were lined up behind them. Officers were standing by a short distance away and the captain went to speak with them.

Jamie felt the tears fall off his face, he knew his business was in ruins, his prize horse chased into the darkness, but none of that mattered as much as Claire’s pale, soot-stained face. He looked up at the commanding voice above him and stared at the officer with blank eyes.

“You identified an area where someone was left inside. I am sorry to inform you that the roof caved in above that wing about five minutes ago. Did anyone go back inside to pull the person out?”

“No. I impaled her against the wall with a ten-foot length of steel pipe.”

Jamie stood up and walked toward his vehicle but never made it. It took five officers to hold him back and he was finally cuffed and dropped into a cruiser. He had no comprehension of what was happening, and he fought against the restraints until he felt a blinding pain as his wrist separated. He slumped forward choking through this added suffering.

“Mister Fraser! Stop struggling I have news of your wife. She is in intensive care, so is the other man, but they are expected to pull through. They are gonna be fine. You have confessed to a capital crime. You belong to the Lexington police force now so you might as well cooperate and sit still. You’re a big man and tasers hurt, so walk when you’re told, sit where you’re told and answer our questions. It’s the best advice I can give you.”

Jamie did as told and explained who Isobel was, how she tried to kill his horses before. He did not know she was released on parole. She had set fire to the barn and held Claire and Michael at gunpoint as they slowly choked to death in front of her. She wore an elaborate gas mask and just stood by as they struggled to breathe. She had raised her gun to Jamie’s head as he rammed the pipe into her stomach. He did not bother to go back in to save her because he was too busy with his wife and friend.

“I didn’t know if she was alive or dead. I didn’t care.”

Jamie was a pillar of the community and the officers made quick work of releasing him with the warning to not leave the state. There was an officer waiting to take him to the hospital. Jamie sat in the back seat holding his throbbing wrist. The officer decided to break the rules for the poor man and turned on his siren as he raced to the hospital.

Jamie piled out of the car and ran into the emergency department. He approached Claire slowly with tears streaking through the grime on his face. He was so overcome at the sight of her his whole body started to shake.

The nurse taking her blood pressure almost fainted at the sight of Jamie but recovered quickly as his face softened looking at his wife.

“She has been asking for you if your name is Jamie that is.” She had a warm smile and a concerned face.

“It is… my name is Jamie.”

The nurse ran for the chair that was shared among the visitors because it looked like he would fall any minute. She pushed Jamie into it and asked if he was alright.

“As soon as this lass opens her eyes, I will be fine.”

“She is doing really well physically. Her doctor may keep her tonight, not sure yet.”

Jamie looked down at Claire’s open eyes, looking at him. She seemed to look at everything she could see and then he watched her dissolve in tears. She was fighting to stop crying but she just couldn’t. She tried to speak to him, but no sound came out.

“Her voice will come back. Two or three days.”

Claire was asleep again and Jamie felt lost suddenly. She just closed her eyes to the pain that was making her cry, leaving Jamie alone. He picked up the phone and called Jason, then Angus. He knew he had to leave her and get back to what was left of their barn. He kissed her face and walked toward the entrance, there lingering at the doorway was the officer who drove him to the hospital.

“Mister Fraser, I waited to take you home, sir.”

Jamie looked battle-scarred and fatigued at the moment, so they headed for his home without further comment. The fire was out, and firemen continued to crawl through the haylofts and roof structure looking for live embers. They had done an excellent job limiting the damage. The fire marshal approached Jaime and shook his hand. His voice was commanding yet tempered with understanding that Jamie appreciated.

“Mister Fraser, it’s a tragedy to be sure, but we minimized the damage and found all the clues, I think. The fire was set on the north-facing side, right here.” He pointed to Runner’s wing on the barn schematic. Gasoline was used as an accelerant that was provided by your fuel tower. The perpetrator used your five-gallon buckets that were stacked at the hose in back, filled them with your fuel, and left the nozzle open to drain the fuel into the ground. When embers landed there it all went up in a fireball. You will have an ugly reminder for a while I’m afraid. It’s safe to bring the horses in except for this area. The roof caved in and it’s burned badly. It is where we found the body of a woman, but I hear you have given a statement to the police already and believe her to be responsible. The coroner has removed the body. I will be in touch as the investigation progresses. He walked toward his vehicle throwing his clipboard on the seat before getting in.

Jamie looked around feeling lost until he saw Rupert and Angus walk out of the barn with two leads each and lariats attached to their belt loops. They looked at Jamie’s haunted eyes and simply nodded as they made their way to the pastures. The horses were tied to a fence once caught so they could be identified and counted. Jason and Lulu pulled up looking shell shocked. Lulu was crying and asking about Claire. Jason ran to the barn for halters and leads and handed a lead to Lulu as they left to search for more horses.

Molly and her fiancé were next, followed by two of the vets that Claire had befriended. They would check the horses that were brought in and treat any issues. As word spread, neighbors and owners came in to join the search and by afternoon, all but two horses had been rounded up. The missing horses, Porcelain and Runner.

The horses were split up into groups and led to graze in the multiple pastures. They would stay outside for the day and let the barn air out. Jamie continued to call Claire, to say I love you and give progress reports. Jamie’s voice cracked when he said they had not found Runner or Porcelain and Claire sobbed for the lost horses but mostly for Jamie. Michael had fared better and was released to rest in his hotel room. Jamie wandered through the pastures calling for Runner until dark.

Jamie stayed with Claire overnight. She was moved out of critical care and there was a fat Lazyboy right next to the bed. He had full trust in his crew, so he stayed until she was released the next day. She mostly cried when she was awake, and Jamie couldn’t wait until he could hold her and give her comfort.

Driving into the compound was very hard on Claire as visions of Isobel taunting her, saying she would shoot Jamie in front of her and then let them die, came back to haunt her. Jamie explained that he had killed Isobel, but Claire expected her to jump out from every corner.

Claire couldn’t yell for Runner, but she insisted on walking the far pastures to help look for him. To no avail, the two of them were gone. Jamie held Claire through the night, waking up every few hours because she was crying and shaking. He eased her back to sleep much quicker than he was able to follow her. By the next day, he had deep circles under his eyes as he drove the property in search of his horses.

The other horses were returned to the barn, back in their original stalls because there was very little damage to anything but Runner’s wing. Jamie shivered to think he wanted to go back to the barn and move Runner and Porcelain back to their original stalls. He closed the wing off with plans to rebuild once the insurance was settled. Not one of the owners moved their horse to another barn. They knew Jamie was honest and ethical. This was not his fault and he had taken care of the problem.

Jamie sat down hard on his office chair in the early evening. The silence was such a relief after playing hero for the past two days. He wasn’t a hero. He was terrified about what could have happened and what will happen next. Could his business recover, could Claire feel safe again, could they find a new normal without Runner? Picking up his ringing phone he heard the deep voice of Dunsany, and he lost it.

“Jamie, it's going to be alright. You aren’t hurt, you will repair the damage and go on. Now listen to me son, get it out, and then get back to work. That’s a good lad, I’m here for ye, depend on that.”

Dunsany waited, speaking quietly to encourage Jamie, trying to infuse him with the will to start over. They talked for almost an hour and Dunsany told him arrangements had been made to bring Isobel’s body back to Scotland. She could never threaten them again. The older man worried deeply about Jamie pulling out of this nightmare and his anger at Isobel kept him secluded from his family for several days. It wasn’t right for a father to hate his own daughter and he would keep that to himself.

Jamie walked the pastures as the sun was coming up. He had a distinctive whistle that all the horses were used to. It always brought them in, no matter how far they had roamed. He heard a whinny and turned his head, heart beating like thunder in his chest he watched the pasture turning in all directions and finally saw her. Porcelain ran toward him crying out her fear in loud whinnies. She came to him and snorted while he slipped the halter on her and snapped a lead. He started walking back expecting Runner to run up on them any second. When he closed the door to Porcelain’s stall, he dropped his head in defeat.

“Where have ye gone laddie?”

Jason, Lulu, Rupert and Angus put the barn back together, ordered supplies, rented stalls, answered calls from worried owners, and assisted whoever and whatever was needed in the moment. Their fearless leader searched for Runner day and night and Claire was not often seen. She looked shattered and they didn’t know how to approach her, so they didn’t.

Michael came on the fourth day and took Claire to drive the property boundaries. Claire searched the pastures through field glasses as they continued to drive for two hours. He was just gone. He jumped a fence and just kept running she assumed. There were thousands of acres of forest that bordered their land and he was lost in that forest somewhere, starving to death. Claire’s sobbing broke Michael’s heart. He stopped the car and pulled her out to hold her to him. He promised her they would find him.

“We need to walk the land, Claire. He’s scared and hiding somewhere in the trees. Let him see us walking.” He pushed a lead in her hand, and they ducked between the white slats of the fence to walk the endless acres of Bluegrass.

Runner watched them from behind the trees. He watched her mostly and wanted to go to her. He could hear in her yell, something foreboding and fearful. If she would just get on his back, he could ride her to safety. He tried a couple of times to break out of the tree line, only to retreat in fear. They were getting closer to him. He was about to turn toward the forest and run but he saw images in his mind of Claire hugging him. It made him so happy. She was telling him she needed a hug. In the next second, he bolted toward the fence boundary and jumped it with ease running toward her, happier than he had ever been.

“Stop Claire. Turn around.”

Claire turned to see Runner galloping toward them. She started to giggle and then she held her arms out like she always did, for him to run into. He stopped ten feet from her and showed her images of being hugged. She kept her arms out and walked to him until she could wrap them around his neck. She put her hands on his cheeks and Michael could swear they were having a conversation as Runner would nicker at times and drop his head on her shoulder.

Are you hurt?

I do not hurt.

Where you afraid?

I was afraid.

She kissed his face a dozen times and asked him to walk back to the barn, assuring him the smoke was gone and he would be safe. She dug a handful of sugar cubes out of her pocket and he feasted on them.

Very hungry.

Let’s go home.

Michael called Jamie to tell him they were walking back, with Runner, and he started running to meet them. Runner nickered and lifted his head when he saw Jamie running toward them. Claire unsnapped the lead and Runner took off stopping right in front of Jamie’s beaming smile. They were still hugging when Claire and Michael caught up to them.

Porcelain whinnied loudly in the air and stomped all over her stall. Rupert looked at her and wondered what got into the lass when he saw the movement in his peripheral vision. He was almost in tears when he saw the three of them with a giant black horse behind them. Runner went to Porcelain for a make-out session and Claire could see images of Rupert pouring grain into his feeder. She laughed quietly to herself.

“Cheeky bastard.”

They said goodbye to Michael at the airport and made him promise to visit soon. Claire hugged him and cried while Michael complained she would surely melt with any more tears. Once on the road home, Claire leaned against Jamie and wrapped her arm around his middle. They had not made love since the fire and the feel of him was suddenly intoxicating. She kissed his neck until she was breathless and when she pulled his belt away and grabbed his zipper Jamie pulled onto a logging road into the forest where he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.

They were frantic to join their hungry bodies after a long hiatus from passion. Jamie pulled her shirt over her head and reached around to unclasp her bra setting her breasts free to bounce with their efforts. When she finally pulled him into her body, they both moaned loudly before the rhythm of arousal took them to a new plane of existence.

Officer Josh Baker was heading back to the station while he daydreamed in heavy traffic. When he saw Jamie’s pickup truck veer off the road, he shook his head and blinked several times. It couldn’t be, he told himself. What are the odds of finding them in the same predicament as before? Some people never learn he thought. He pulled off onto the logging road to wait.

Traffic along the four lanes where Jamie took the detour slowed way down due to the cruiser parked along the side of the road, presumably for radar speed checking. The officer pointed his radar gun out the window and waited. When he heard Jamie’s engine start he pulled into traffic, and they were none the wiser about his protection.

Slowly, life at Highland Brothers returned to normal and Jason, the new custodian of Claire's truck, would pick her up for a day of medical treatments and do his best to remember any of the details when she asked him. On long rides she would describe the lab assays they would run to get him used to the terminology and procedure. From February to June, she would reduce her hours away to ten hours per week so she could take care of the breeding operation. She was anxious to be working with Jamie again.

Claire sat across from Nosh at the kitchen table and looked at the sheets of pictures. There had to be at least five-hundred pictures of her and runner. She answered Nosh’s questions thoughtfully and held nothing back. Nosh recovered quickly from the declaration that she can talk to animals. He always knew there was a major component of the story missing.

“I have wondered how an untrained jockey could ride that horse through all those races.”

“It was my yoga training. My balance was very good and if you hadn’t noticed, I didn’t move at all, once the race started, I just hung on to is mane for dear life. He told me what to do, when to do it, and I felt safe after a while.”

“How could he hear you during the race, there’s too much noise?”

“Are you saying you believe me?”

“You are an educated woman Claire, a veterinarian, and you won the Triple Crown as a novice jockey. I’ve been on the track all my adult life, so I knew there was a secret to your success. What I wouldn’t give for photo evidence of you racing him on foot.”

“Oh! I have photo evidence. Jamie took loads of pictures from the equipment barn where he hid for the first month. They are amateur at best, but I will be happy to show you..”

Nosh was on his feet in seconds, “please, yes I would love to see them.”

Claire settled Nosh in a chair close to the computer monitor and brought up the pictures. There was a perfect sequence of them at the starting line, Claire running full speed around the track, and Runner staying on the rail to pass her. Claire bent over panting and Runner circling her with his head and tail in the air. In the last picture, Claire is scowling at the horse with her hands in the air.

Nosh laughed so hard and sputtered “pure gold!” when he could catch a breath. “Good God, I haven’t laughed like that since I was a kid. Name your price, I’m sure the magazine will pay it.”

“Certainly not! You can have them with my thanks.”

This was the icing on the cake to Nosh. The book he had dreamed of for the last year would be better than he could have imagined.

Claire told Nosh everything from cutting Runner out of his dam to winning the Triple Crown and all the baiting and psychological tricks she used to keep him wanting to win. The story was told, and she sat back and took a deep breath.

“How would you like to spend some time with Runner?”

They walked out to the pasture and the two horses made a bee-line for them. Claire stood in front of Nosh and opened her arms for two frothy-mouthed horses to assault her with smells and snorts. She stepped aside pulling her phone out of her pocket and launching the camera app. Nosh seemed frozen as he watched Runner come toward him. Claire moved farther away and started snapping pictures. Nosh, nose to nose with Runner, the colt draping his head over Nosh’s shoulder from behind, stroking his neck, laughing at the assault on his pockets looking for treats. Claire kept snapping until she had sixty-five pictures of Nosh and Runner. She would transfer all the pictures of Runner including these to a thumb drive and send it to Nosh. It made her happy inside to give something back.

Claire walked the reporter out to his rental car and hugged him, thanking him for everything. Nosh saw no reason they might meet again so he made his words count.

“You feel like the daughter I never had. I am so proud of what you’ve done. If your actions with Runner are any indication of motherhood, I hope to live long enough to see your kids cure cancer and win the Nobel prize. Goodbye Claire, and thank you for the interview.”

Motherhood? What an odd thing to say, she decided and waved goodbye.

Claire walked back into the house feeling her mood turn dark when she looked at the ugly furniture she and Jamie had failed to replace. She wished for a happy feeling when she opened the door to their home and hated this furniture even more after the fire. A call to the Salvation Army to pick up a high-end living room set pushed her to the front of the line. They would pick it up this afternoon. When the living room was empty, she called Jamie and asked if he could finish early because there wasn’t a chair or couch to sit on anymore. They needed to visit the furniture stores in town.

Claire got dressed up with straight hair and makeup because it felt like a special trip, something to be remembered. They would finally take ownership of their space and rid the memory of the most heinous woman on earth. With only one week until Christmas, she was excited.

Jamie watched a beautiful, confident woman walk toward him when he came home. He looked at her long pretty hair, short dress, and high heels, feeling his stomach do flips.

“Yer beautiful Sassenach, and our living room is empty sure enough.”

“You have ten minutes James Fraser.”

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2020 #24: Beam

Aeryn woke, frowning at the wooden beams above her head, everything rocking and creaking. Her sleep haze cleared and she recalled where she was: aboard the Misery, on the way to the Far East.

She looked around the little cabin they had been given, a repurposed storeroom with the Scions crowded inside. They had left Limsa Lominsa earlier that day, Urianger at the docks to give Alisaie a sword and see them off.

“Look ye where the sun doth rise…”

Aeryn got up, stretching, almost losing her balance as the ship swayed. She pulled on her boots and slipped out, the room warm and stifling.

A cool wind blew, the ocean waves a constant background noise along with the creaks and rustling of ropes and sails and wood. A few sailors remained awake to manage the ship and keep a watch, but none of them disturbed her as she made her way to the bow and looked out over the dark water under the starry sky. The moon was full, light shining down and reflecting off the waves, the need for lanterns minimal even at this hour.

Her wandering mind, seeking for something other than Urianger’s prophecy, wondered if Thancred would know the various parts of the ship and what to do. True that he hadn’t been a pirate in his youth, but he had to have picked up a few things; it’s just what he did, normally. But he had stayed in Eorzea to continue the work there…

“You’re up late,” Carvallain’s voice broke against her thoughts and she straightened from her position of leaning on the railing to blink up at the captain.

Now that Tataru had pointed it out, the resemblance to members of certain high houses of Ishgard was difficult to unsee. Aeryn cleared her throat. “Could say the same of you, Captain.”

He shrugged. “It’s my ship,” he said. “It’s good to check on the late shift before retiring. Besides, on a night this nice, I enjoy a bit of stargazing.”

She bit her lip for the immediate response that came to mind concerning astrology and only nodded. “I suppose there’ll be plenty of opportunity for stargazing as the journey continues.”

“You should hope so,” he said. “If we can avoid the storms we should get to Kugane with little difficulty. Unless we’re becalmed, but this time of year that seems unlikely.” He turned his silver gaze from the sky to study her. “Actually if you might indulge a bit of curiosity…?”

Aeryn nodded. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve heard rumors you’re Thavnairian, but lately the Ishgardians have taken to calling you their own. Though given what you’ve done, I suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise they’d want to claim you.”

“It’s both,” she replied. “My mother was Thavnairian, and I spent most of my childhood there. But my father was Coerthan and that’s where I was born, in some little village near the border with the Twelveswood.”

“Must be some story, their meeting and courtship. Was he a knight?”

She shook her head. “A simple farmer, I was always told, and all I barely remember. I was very young when.” She paused, then shrugged. “Dragons.”

“Ah. Of course,” Carvallain replied. “Always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”

She caught the bitterness in his tone. “Maybe not anymore,” she replied. “Not that way, at least.”

“Yes, you finally ended the war, they say. Bravo. Avenged your father too, in the process.”

“I didn’t do it for vengeance,” she was quick to reply, catching his raised brow. “Even his brother and father agreed, there was no reasoning with Nidhogg; it had to end.” She looked up at the captain. “I did it to stop needless bloodshed, on both sides. To save my friend. Because it needed to be done, and I was there and able to do it. That’s all.”

Carvallain studied her for a long moment. “I do believe you mean that,” he finally said. “Perhaps your reasoning would be different had you remained in Ishgard through your childhood; perhaps ‘tis for the best you did not.”

It was Aeryn’s turn to pause for a time. “Do you ever think of go—”

“No,” he said with a stern, dangerous finality of tone. After a beat he affected a grin and threw out his arms. “I have all I shall ever want or need here. This is the life for me, the life I choose that leaves me free to do as I will.” He dropped his arms. “Not much more that a man could want, really. And I think in some ways, you understand--far more than those hidebound old nobles or zealous peasants ever could.”

She smiled and nodded. “Perhaps I do. For now, I think I’ve had enough of the night air and may try sleeping again.”

“Best you should, I plan to take advantage of your offer of help tomorrow,” he grinned.

Aeryn laughed. “Good night, Captain.”

“Good night,” he responded. As she turned away, he quietly added, “And thank you.”

She paused, but simply nodded once more before crossing the deck, still feeling unsteady as it tilted with the gentle motion of the waves.

At the door leading to the stairs that would take her back to the cabin below, she turned to look once more. In the cool light of the moon’s beams, Carvallain stood at the bow, arms crossed, looking forward to whatever waited beyond the horizon line.

She really couldn’t imagine the pirate anywhere else.

Aeryn returned to the cabin. There was work to do in the morning.

[wheresmynaya]

Two Ghosts Ch.29 | Brittana

Holy shit, one more chapter and this baby is complete. WILD!

Also available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & below the cut!

The last time Santana harbored a secret of this magnitude she’s was hiding so deep in the closet that she was basically in Narnia. The difference this time though is that when she thinks of this particular secret, she can’t help but feel giddy. Like a good giddy, a great giddy! This secret is going to change her life, it’s going to change Brittany’s life, and she really can’t contain the joy that it brings when she thinks of it.

She’s going to have to get it together though if she wants to pull this thing off, because although she has a bit of a track record when it comes to blurting things, she doesn’t want that to happen with this. She already jumped the gun when it came to asking Britt to be her girlfriend and asking her out on a date, she doesn’t want to do the same thing when it comes to proposing. It gets harder everyday though, because every little thing Brittany does has Santana itching to just drop down on one knee right then and there.

But she won’t do it.

She has spent some time thinking about this, from the flashy grand gestures to intimate moments with just the two of them, she has thought of it all and she thinks she has finally devised the perfect plan. So she can’t just blurt it out because Brittany decided to surprise her with breakfast in bed one Sunday morning or because Brittany said something really cute in her sleep or because Brittany coaxed her into an impromptu dance party when Santana was feeling grumpy about her favorite show being cancelled or because Brittany simply brought home flowers for her on the anniversary of her Abuelo’s passing.

Santana has to find some type of self-control because what she has planned is going to be perfect and Brittany deserves that.

\\

Santana is in the middle of getting dinner ready – which just means checking that the oven is still preheating– when her phone buzzes. It’s Brittany telling her that she’s on her way back to the apartment now and Santana smiles at the kiss emoji she ends the text with. She knows Brittany has been having a rough week with balancing dance classes and finalizing the Cheerios’ Nationals routine, it’s like the girl doesn’t have an off switch because even when they don’t have Cheerios’ practice, she’s putting work in at the dance studio.

Brittany’s never been one to complain though, she just puts her head down and does what she has to do. Santana figured she’d do something nice and come over while Brittany’s still in class and cook up all of her favorites to see if that might help cheer her up a little.

When Brittany breezes through the door 15 minutes later, Santana is still in the kitchen finishing off the salad she decided to make at the last minute. Brittany’s strong arms wrap around her waist and then she settles her chin on Santana’s shoulder. Santana grins at how Brittany instantly relaxes against her.

“Hi,” Brittany greets then tilts her head just a little so that her lips brush against Santana’s cheek for a lazy kiss.

“Hey B,” Santana replies and twists around in Brittany’s arms to face her. There’s blonde hair falling from Brittany’s loose bun and she smells like sweat and lavender laundry detergent. She looks so tired and Santana smooths out the little crinkle in her brow as she asks, “How was class?”

“Very, very intense,” Brittany sighs and drops her forehead on Santana’s shoulder. Santana takes the brunt of her weight and starts to rub up and down her back, “It was a good intense though, I think we might be able to incorporate some of what I’ve learned in the routine for Nationals.”

“That’s awesome,” Santana grins while Brittany lifts her head again.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of maybe using Alex? She’s the best tumbler and this stunt I’m thinking of needs someone with her skill level,” Brittany explains and Santana can tell she’s about to start thinking out loud, “I could put her in after the basket toss? No wait, I can put her in before and it can lead to the basket toss? But the transition… I could use Kelly? She’s the next best tumbler? What do you think?”

“I think whatever you decide is going to look great, but maybe let’s give that genius brain of yours a rest?” Santana suggests once she sees the deepening crease between Brittany’s brows return. She goes to smooth over it again, “At least just for tonight, okay? Don’t want you to burn yourself out.”

Brittany softens at that but her smile falters. She pulls away from Santana goes to pour herself a glass of water, keeping her back to Santana as she says, “This is nothing compared to how I was at MIT. I was on 24/7.”

“Yeah, you’ve told me and how did that work out for you?” Santana challenges with her brow quirked. She can see Brittany’s shoulders droop a little before she turns to lean against the sink.

“I don’t know,” Brittany says sarcastically, “It got the job done, didn’t it?”

Santana’s surprised to hear that tone, but she doesn’t take it personally. Instead she calls out Brittany’s name warningly, “Britt. You don’t have to do that again, I know how hard it was on you. I don’t want to see you put yourself through that.”

“This routine has to be perfect, San,” Brittany tries to tell her with determination in her eyes, “We have to win, we have to do this for Sue. It was like…her dying request and she specifically asked me, asked us. I don’t want to let her down and I don’t know what happens if we fail, maybe 100 years of bad luck?”

Santana can see Brittany slowly getting stuck in her head but she chuckles dryly, “I really don’t think it works that way.”

“Well, I don’t want to wait around to find out. Things just started to turn around for me, I think I’m finally getting somewhere and I don’t want to mess that up with losing Nationals. I feel like I’ve found what I’m meant to do and what I’m meant to do is get this team to Nationals and win,” Brittany pauses to catch her breath before saying, “You and Quinn and Sue and the whole squad are counting on me to choreograph this routine and if I have to work my ass off to get us there then so be it.”

Santana can clearly see now that Brittany’s wound up so tight she’s just about to explode from the stress and pressure. She had a hunch that it might be taking a turn with the extra hours Brittany was putting in at the studio, but she didn’t think it was like this. Santana feels a twinge of guilt for how long she let this go on for. Brittany was always the master of hiding her feelings, especially when it came down to things like this where she was so worried of letting people down.

“Britt, you’re no help to anyone if you push yourself too hard,” Santana says softly but Brittany just glances away. Santana sighs at that and moves to close the distance between them, “Listen, you’re a great choreographer and everyone is so grateful for the amount of work you do but, babe, you have got to give yourself a break too.”

Brittany bites her lip at Santana’s words.

“You’re clearly the one with the most experience, but Quinn and I have some experience too. After all, I did spend some time at UofL and I’m pretty sure Quinn came out the womb with pompoms in her hands,” Santana was pleased to see Brittany crack a small smile at the joke and took the moment to wrap her arms around her waist, “We can help you if you need us, all you have to do is ask.”

When Brittany doesn’t say anything, Santana squeezes at her hips and gives her sweet smile, “What do you say, hmm?”

Brittany rolls her eyes but she can’t fight the smile that begs to match Santana’s, “How can I argue when you’re pulling a face like that?”

“That’s what I thought. Now enough of that for tonight,” Santana then rolls up to press a quick kiss to Brittany’s lips before asking, “Are you hungry? I’ve got chicken nuggets in the oven and there’s mac and cheese on the stove. I also made a salad that’s in the fridge so we can still feel healthy. Oh! And also got that wine you like.”

“Those are all of my favorite things.”

“I know,” Santana winks.

“That’s perfect,” Brittany beams as she runs her hands down Santana’s arms, “Thank you, baby.”

“I figured I could do this since you’ve had such a busy week,” Santana replies casually, feeling a little bashfully beneath Brittany’s gaze, “You’ve been working so hard.”

“You’re the best,” Brittany tells her and dips down to kiss the tip of her nose, “Do I have time for a shower?”

Santana glances at the timer then back to Brittany, “Yeah, I just put them in so maybe like 20 minutes?”

“Sweet,” Brittany starts to smirk as her hands settle on Santana’s hips, “Do you have time for a shower?”

Santana giggles at that and doesn’t even have to say yes before she’s dragging Brittany to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind them.

\\

An hour later, they’re sitting on the couch freshly showered and their bellies full. Brittany has her head on Santana’s lap while they watch some new reality show and Santana plays with the damp curls along Brittany’s neck. Neither of them have said anything for awhile now and if it weren’t for the occasional chuckles, Santana would’ve thought Brittany had fallen asleep.

It’s then that Santana glances at the time and remembers the pile of laundry that she had forgotten to put on before she left for Brittany’s. She hadn’t realized how late it was getting so she starts to shift out from under Brittany to start cleaning up their empty plates.

“Where you goin’?” Brittany pouts once Santana is free.

“I’m just going to clean this before I go,” Santana tells her as she gathers the plates.

“Go?” Brittany frowns and moves to crouch on her knees, following Santana with her eyes as she heads for the kitchen. She rests on the back of the couch and watches Santana take everything to the sink.

“Well yeah, I’ve got so much laundry to do. I completely forgot about it,” Santana sighs as she starts the water.

“Do you have to though?”

“I’m dangerously low on panties.”

“Since when is that a bad thing?”

Santana glances up to find Brittany smirking at her from the couch. She lets out a giggle as she shakes her head, “What’s the point in buying all these cute sets from Victoria Secret if I don’t wear them?”

“You have a point there,” Brittany nods with this far away look in her eye, no doubt drifting into the gutter.

Santana leaves her with those thoughts and continues to do the rest of the dishes. She’s so preoccupied with washing that she doesn’t catch what Brittany says a moment later. She looks up when Brittany stands from the couch and starts to walk over to her looking perkier than before.

“I didn’t hear what you said,” Santana says because she feels like she’s missed some joke or something but Brittany just smiles anyway.

“I said that you should just live here with me,” Brittany repeats through her grin, “You should move in.”

Santana’s brows rise at the request and surprisingly she’s a little taken off guard. Why? She has no idea, it seems like the next step to take anyway and it really would save time on having to go back and forth. Maybe it’s because she hasn’t lived with a significant other ever in her life and this is kind of big so naturally she’s going to freak out a little.

Brittany seems to notice and starts to chuckle as she turns the water off and reaches for a dish towel to pass to Santana. The brunette dries off her hands but remains silent, thinking about Brittany’s words.

“You practically live here already,” Brittany explains, “You’ve got my spare key and a drawer in my dresser full of your clothes and everything. You might as well have some closet space too and maybe one of the shelves in the bathroom? We can have dinner together every night and you won’t have to go home to do your laundry because I have a washing machine. We can go to sleep together and wake up together, it’s like a never ending sleepover! Doesn’t that sound awesome?”

Santana blinks and she doesn’t realize she’s smiling until Brittany’s poking lightly at her dimple.

“You gonna say something or are you just gonna keep standing there being all cute again?” Brittany teases with this lopsided grin.

“I think that moving in with you is a capital idea,” Santana finally says and her chest wells with pride. She planned on saying more, but Brittany had wrapped her up in a hug so fast that the rest of her words were knocked out of the way. Instead, she just laughs and hugs her back even tighter.

“We’re so grown up now,” Brittany jokes a moment later, “Living together and stuff.”

“And stuff,” Santana mocks lightly, “I honestly don’t know when it happened…growing up.”

Brittany just shrugs before kissing Santana’s cheek, “Neither, but I’m glad I’m doing it with you.”

Santana swoons on the spot and nearly drops down on one knee right then and there too.

\\

They’re all at practice the following Monday when Brittany starts to introduce the new routine to the squad. She ran it pass Santana and Quinn the day before and they’ve both given her any feedback they had, but it wasn’t much because Brittany continuously comes up with amazing routines. Her background in dance and gymnastics combined with her years of cheerleading have created this awesome combination which makes her a fierce choreographer.

Santana’s so damn proud of her. To think that Brittany almost gave this part of her up for good when she was at MIT, it blows Santana’s mind. The sheer talent just oozes off of Brittany and the best part is that she’s such a great teacher as well. She’s the perfect amount of strict without being bitchy and the kids love her for that. They actually push themselves because they want to make her proud.

They want to make all of their coaches proud.

For the most part, they do. But there are some days when practice just drags on because the girls are just off of their game for some reason whether it be some outside distractions or drama. On those days, Santana gets to be very strict and she finds some joy in that.

Today though, it’s a little bit of both. Santana can tell there’s a rift going on with a couple girls which effects everyone else on the squad but there’s also some excitement around learning the new routine so it balances out a little.

Santana’s watching like a hawk though while the girls stretch and quickly spots some laziness.

“Excuse me, what is this?” Santana asks as she walks around one girl. She nudges at her foot, “Point your toe, I shouldn’t have to say this to you when we’re this far into the year.”

The girl cowers away and corrects her mistake while Santana moves on but she doesn’t get very far when she spots another error.

“Come on!” Santana groans and nudges the girl’s foot too, “Why are we acting brand new, ladies? If I have to tell one more person to point their toes…”

Lucky for them, Santana doesn’t spot any more of that and they’re able to move on from warm-ups to conditioning. This is where Quinn takes over while Santana and Brittany hang back to watch everyone’s form.

“You think Alex can do a back hand spring to a full?” Brittany asks quietly, “She’s the top tumbler.”

“She’s also the best flyer and base. She’s probably one of the only ones on the team that can do all three,” Santana replies, “But don’t tell her that, I don’t want her head getting so big that it topples the pyramid.”

“Like she doesn’t know she’s the best already,” Brittany chuckles then calls out for Alex to come over.

“Yes Coach B?”

“Can you do a back hand spring to a full?” Brittany asks.

“That all?” Alex smirks before turning to walk over to the mats.

Santana and Brittany exchange a knowing look before watching what Alex can do.

It’s really no surprise that she pulls it off effortlessly on the first try.

“Was that what you were looking for?” Alex asks upon jogging back over.

Brittany nods and jots down a note on her clipboard, “Yup, you’ll need to work on your connection but I’ll let you know if I decide to use you there. You can return to conditioning.”

Alex looks a little surprised by Brittany’s feedback but returns to the squad anyway.

When Santana glances over at Brittany’s notes, she finds the blonde drawing a picture of a flower.

“I just wanted her to think I was writing something important,” Brittany whispers, “But I’m totally going to use her for that one part. That was so awesome.”

“So sneaky,” Santana chuckles before they meet up with Quinn to run through the first 8-count of the new routine.

//

It’s one of their more elaborate routines and definitely the hardest by far, but no one ever won Nationals by doing something easy. With the Cheerios’ reputation and history of winning, there has to be certain standards and if anyone knows that, it’s Santana, Brittany and Quinn.

They’re about halfway through practice when a couple of the girls that Santana noticed at the start of practice begin to argue. She knew it was only a matter of time judging by the stink eye one was giving the other during warm-ups, so she was ready for this.

“Guys, chill!” Maddy tries breaking up the argument herself but the girls only go louder. When the pushing and hair pulling started up, Santana was quick to shut that down.

“Let go of each other right now or you’re both out of here,” Santana snaps as she pushes one girl away while Quinn moves the other. Santana grits her jaw and glares at the both of them, “I don’t know what kind of drama is going on here and I don’t care. I can tell you that it’s not going to fly at practice though. You understand me?”

“Well if she wasn’t so dam – “

“What?! Wasn’t so what?!”

“Jesus,” Santana groans before clapping her hands together, “Enough!”

The girls settle again, crossing their arms over their chests while Santana glares.

“You’re a team, you have to trust each other and have each other’s back because that is exactly how people get hurt. Whatever you’ve got going on, figure it out before you come in here. If you can’t do that then there is no space for you on this team.”

That threat surprised a lot of the girls, “But Coach S, Nationals is only four months away! We can’t find a replacement that close.“

“You’re right we can’t,” Santana cuts off and whirls back on the two troublemakers, “So you two better do everything you can to sort this out or you’ll cost the entire team Nationals. You want that? This is the last year to compete as a Cheerio for some girls here, you want to be the reason they can’t win?”

“No Coach S,” They said in unison, already looking remorseful.

Santana smirked at that, “Good. Get it together then.”

Then she returned to her position in front of the squad where Brittany had been watching. The blonde smiled proudly at her before clapping her hands and taking a step towards the squad.

“Alright, let’s take it from the top!” Brittany calls out then starts running through the counts.

It’s taking everything in Santana to not bite her lip at the sight, because nothing is hotter than Brittany being strict. She makes these little sound effects when she’s in the zone and Santana really can’t help but let her thoughts drift a little.

“I think this is Brittany’s best work yet,” Quinn comments as she comes over to stand next to Santana. She’s got her eyes on the girls, watching how they slowly get better and better after each run through.

Santana nods, “She’s been working really hard on this one. Well, she works hard on every routine but more so this one. A lot is riding on this.”

“We’ll pull this off,” Quinn says without hesitation, “This is a hardworking bunch so I’m not worried one bit. We’ve got this.”

Santana soaks in Quinn’s words and nods to agree. They’ve got less than four months to get this right, less than four months until they find out whether or not all their hard work has paid off.

\\

10 Weeks Until Nationals;

The coaches stand back and anxiously watch as the squad attempts their 14th full out. It’s rough at best and they can barely get through the entire routine without making at least five mistakes, but at least they’re getting through it now.

“Push! Push! Push!” Quinn yells out over the music as Alex tumbles across the mat. Her technique is there but you can tell she’s tired from the slight waver in her connections, but she pushes through and lands the final stunt perfectly.

“Yes!” Brittany cheers and she’s jumping on her feet as the Alex returns to her position and they shift into the next 8 count. The blonde is nodding along with the music as she calls out the counts along with Santana.

“Get her up there!” Santana yells as one of the flyers struggles to get in position. They’re going off beat now as they try to get her up there, but the coaches are proud of their determination.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Brittany chants as they try to recover the lost time and move onto the next stunt. If they pull off this and the next stunt, this will be the first time they’ve executed the entire routine without the pyramid crumbling.

Quinn’s bouncing in her spot while Brittany and Santana just look on while holding their breath.

Maddy completes the first basket toss, perfect. Denise is next and it lands, perfect. Lastly, it’s Alex and she’s launched into the air but Santana knows the minute that she lands that it’s not good.

Her side of the pyramid collapses as Alex crumples to the mat holding her foot.

“Shit,” Santana says under her breath and Brittany is quick to turn off the music. Quinn and a trainer are already running over to Alex while Santana is telling everyone to clear the mat and hit those crunches. She hangs back with Brittany while Quinn speaks with the trainer and they look over Alex.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Alex groans as she writhes from side to side in pain. She’s going red in the face as she slams her fist against the mat.

“Hey, easy. You’re alright,” Quinn hums as she tries to comfort the girl, “You’re going to be fine.”

By the looks of it, Santana can tell Alex is already starting to beat herself up about this and it’s hard to watch. She and Brittany continue to wait off to the side though, not wanting to crow them.

“It doesn’t look broken,” Brittany comments as she goes to squeeze at Santana’s shoulder. She gives her a hopeful smile, “I’ve seen enough broken bones by now to tell the difference.”

“Let’s hope it isn’t,” Santana sighs.

The trainer looks over Alex’s injured foot for a moment before finally breaking the news, “Bad news: it’s a sprain. Good news: it’s minor.”

Alex slumps back, a mix of relief and annoyance, and asks through gritted teeth, “Will I still be able to cheer at Nationals?”

The trainer looks uncertain, “Possibly. With enough rest, it should heal up in time but that’s a big if.”

“Great,” Alex grumbles and soon Quinn and the trainer are helping her off the mat. Once they’ve got her tended to on the side, Quinn jogs over to Brittany and Santana to give them the news.

“What happened?” Santana asks urgently.

“Is anything broken?” Brittany questions just as eagerly.

Quinn shakes her head, “No, but the trainer is saying it’s a sprained toe.”

“That’s it?”

“Santana!” Brittany scolds.

“What?” Santana softens, “The girl has nine more.”

Brittany and Quinn both shake her heads at her for that.

“You can come back from a sprain and Alex is a tough kid. She’ll bounce back,” Santana tries to recover, “We’ll be okay. We’ll just have to put someone else in her place for now.”

“Like who?” Brittany asks and Santana can already see the worry forming.

“We’ll use Kelly,” Santana is quick to say then gives them both an encouraging smile, “She knows Alex’s routine anyway.”

Brittany nods like she’s letting the thought roll around, “True, she just needs to work on like…everything.”

“Better get back to it then?” Santana smirks.

Brittany doesn’t seem comforted but Quinn jumps in next with the encouragement.

“She can do it, Britt. We just have to push her a little harder,” Quinn says, “We’re 10 weeks out, we’ve got to start testing those back up plans.”

“Quinn’s right,” Santana adds, “You didn’t spend hours and hours coming up with them for nothing. How about it?”

That seems to break Brittany out of her thoughts long enough to smile, “Okay yeah, we go this.”

\\

8 Weeks Until Nationals;

Quinn and Brittany are cheering on the squad as they attempt another full out. With Kelly in Alex’s place, things have been a little choppy but it’s getting there and the coaches are really pleased with the squad’s improvement.

“Hold it,” Quinn urges as one of the base girls struggles to lift a flyer up. She wavers but soon she’s locked in place and the pyramid holds. That’s the first time it has happened so far.

“Yes!” Brittany yells and she’s bouncing up and down while pumping her first.

Quinn’s right there with her and clapping her hands, “Great job, ladies!”

It’s not the prettiest sight, but it’s getting better and they’re progressing fast. Santana can’t stop glancing over at Brittany as she praises everyone, she’s just so perfect in this role and she loves to see her girl this proud.

Santana smiles but then catches sight of Alex with her leg propped up on a bench off to the side. She’s clapping for her teammates and on the surface she looks proud too, but Santana knows her better than that.

“How’s the toe?” Santana asks after waltzing over.

“Put me in and we’ll find out,” Alex challenges without missing a beat. It makes Santana toss back her head with a hearty laugh.

“Not a chance, kid.”

“Come on, Coach, I need to get back in there. I’ll wrap it and I’ll be fine,” Alex just about pleads.

“You want to risk injuring yourself even further?” Santana shakes her head, “No way.”

Alex frowns and slumps back against the wall, “This is stupid.”

“Sure is,” Santana chuckles then pats her on the top of her head, “You’ll be back in soon.”

When Santana leaves her side to rejoin Quinn and Santana, they’re breathless from all the cheering.

“That was so awesome,” Brittany beams while the squad winds down amongst themselves, “I bet they’ll perfect this by next week.”

“Definitely,” Quinn agrees then calls for the squad to gather one last time before being dismissed. They’re slow to come over, drained from such an intense practice and quickly packing up the mats.

“Great work today, everyone!” Brittany tells them happily, “Like really awesome job, we’re going to crush it at Nationals for sure.”

The squad looks pleased with the feedback as they start pumping each other up.

“Rest up, tomorrow we’re focusing on stunts again,” Quinn tells them and the rest of the coaches wave to everyone as they all begin to gather their belongings. Quinn goes off to lock up the equipment room which leaves Santana and Brittany by the bleachers packing up.

“God, I can’t wait to go home,” Santana sighs as she stuffs everything in her duffle, “I’m ready for a hot shower and I think we should order take out from that one place you love so much too and like veg out on the –“

Santana’s words are cut off when she feels Brittany’s lips press against her cheek. It catches her off guard but she turns to her and smiles like a dope.

“What was that for?” She asks when she finds Brittany grinning.

“You said home,” Brittany tells her simply, “You called the apartment home. You’ve never called it that before.”

Santana blushes at the fact and suddenly she feels a little shy about it, “It just came out.”

“I know,” Brittany smirks as she pulls her bag onto her shoulder, “That’s what makes it so great.”

Santana bites her lip at that and lifts her bag to her shoulder too. Soon Brittany’s hand slides into Santana’s and their fingers thread together. It’s warm and soft and it makes Santana feel grounded.

“Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” Santana grins and squeezes at Britt’s hand before calling out over her shoulder towards the equipment room, “Hurry up, Q! We’re about to leave your ass!”

\\

6 Weeks Until Nationals;

Santana watches alongside with the rest of the coaches as Denise is tossed into the air and nearly collides with Maddy when securing her position. The shaky movements have the base girls struggling to get their footing and soon Denise crashes into Maddy and the two come toppling down. Their falls are broken so no one gets hurt, but that kind of mistake shouldn’t be happening this far into practice.

“Listen to directions people!” Santana scolds, “Laura and Steph, you have to hold it. You can’t just walk away, you have to try and save it. I’ve told you this so many times already. You have got to listen if you’re gonna work on a team. This is how accidents happen.”

“Sorry Coach,” They frown and go to shake out their arms.

Santana just shakes her head, “Go back to conditioning.”

She’s got her hands on her hips and she’s doing everything she can to keep Snixxx at bay. Brittany tries to comfort Santana as she puts some distance between the squad and her.

“You okay?” Brittany asks hesitantly as Santana goes for her water bottle.

“That could’ve ended so badly,” She says after taking a drink. She glances over to where Quinn is working with Alex in some easy conditioning and adds, “Maddy and Denise could’ve been injured. We could’ve been down three girls.”

“Yeah, but that didn’t happen,” Brittany tries and she places a comforting hand on Santana’s arm, “It could’ve but it didn’t. We’re just going to have to make sure it never happens.”

Santana sighs but nods along with Brittany in the end, “Why is this job so stressful? You know I found a grey hair last night? Just ridiculous, I did not sign up for this.”

Brittany chuckles at her dramatics and pokes at Santana’s side, “You make a great coach, babe.”

“I guess,” Santana grumbles playfully and plasters on a look of confidence before turning back to the squad, “Alright, let’s do this again! We’re not stopping until we get it right.”

\\

4 Weeks Until Nationals;

“Check this out, Coach S!” Alex calls out and goes to take a running start before tumbling across the mat. She hits a back hand spring to full and lands it perfectly, showing off a proud smile. Her teammates are jumping excitedly from the sidelines and Santana swears Maddy’s cheers come be heard above them all.

“Glad to have you back,” Santana smirks, “Now if you’re done showing off maybe we can get back to this pyramid?”

“Going full out today,” Alex nods resolutely and she jogs off as everyone takes their position.

“Let’s see it then,” Santana smiles proudly and turns back to Brittany and Quinn, “Record this. I have a good feeling about it.”

Quinn nods and gets out her phone while Brittany waits by the speaker for the signal to start. Santana nods and turns back to the squad as they begin with the routine. Everyone is hitting their stunts and it’s actually looking pretty flawless; even Alex falls back into place as if not time had been lost. Kelly looks even better than before with all the extra practice she’s been putting in to fill Alex’s place and it really rounds out the entire routine.

“Okay, here we go,” Santana mumbles to herself as Maddy is thrown up, followed by Denise, then Alex and it all holds to form a perfect pyramid.

“Hold it, hold it!” Brittany chants and the girls hold their positions for a couple seconds longer before turning out and landing in their next position. Brittany claps and pumps her fist in the air, “That’s it! Yes!”

When the music fades the girls are all cheering for each other after pulling off their first full out with Alex back that was more than perfect.

“I think we’re almost there,” Quinn comments quietly after stopping the recording, “That looked really good.”

“Just need to stay on them,” Santana adds, “It has to be perfect. They’ve got to be doing these moves in their sleep.”

“They probably already do judging by that last full out,” Brittany smirked.

The coaches all exchange a look of relief before breaking off to dismiss the girls for today’s practice.

2 Days Until Nationals;

“I want you all to understand something before we get on this flight tomorrow,” Quinn says once the squad gathers after another grueling practice. Santana and Brittany flank her as she speaks seriously, “These next couple of days aren’t going to be a vacation just because we’re in a new place. We’re going to L.A. on a mission. We’re going to win, there is no other option. When we go anywhere, you’re representing this school and the long line of Cheerios that are looking to you to uphold this legacy. It is very serious and you all need to keep that in mind when you’re out there. Understand?”

“Yes Coach,” The team says in unison.

“Good,” Quinn nods and looks between the other coaches, “Anything to add?”

“We’re really proud of the progress you’ve made over the last few months,” Brittany says through a smile, “Trust each other, know what you have to do. Go out there and do your job and represent us well.”

“What Coach B said,” Santana agrees, “And everyone please show up on time tomorrow morning. I know it’s early but if I have to be up at the crack of dawn then so do you. I don’t want to hear any complaints other than my own.”

The squad nods and once they’re happy with their final words until L.A., they dismiss the team for the night.

“This is it,” Quinn says to Santana and Brittany. They all let out a sigh and the nerves are already there, but Santana’s not sure they ever really left.

“Yeah, it is,” Santana nods and they all exchange a look before she says, “We’ll see you in the morning.”

\\

The trip from Lima to L.A. goes smoothly and after everyone gets checked into the hotel, the coaches are able to sneak off for an hour to meet up with Mercedes for coffee. It’s not a whole lot of time, but they’re happy that they’re able to catch up with her and get a little break from the cheering even if it’s only for an hour.

“You guys are going to kill it,” Mercedes tells them, “I can’t wait to see. I’ve never been to a cheer competition before.”

“It’s intense,” Brittany says after taking a sip of her iced latte, “The energy there is like no other. These kids have really been busting their butts the whole year just for this moment. I guess it’s kind of similar to Glee Club but no one gets thrown in the air for that.”

“It’ll be awesome,” Santana adds and she squeezes at Brittany’s thigh from under the table which earns her a smile, “Britt did an amazing job choreographing.”

“So is this what you’re planning to do now, Britt?” Mercedes asks, “You were always a bomb choreographer and I figured you’d go towards dance but sounds like you’re doing a great job with cheerleading. You could open a studio or something? I heard Mike was doing something like that out in Chicago.”

Santana’s interest is piqued because she actually hasn’t ever heard Brittany talk about what she wanted to do for a career. She knows she has a degree, but like Santana, she isn’t really using it. Britt’s just a natural when it comes to teaching, she lights up when she dances, but Santana stays quiet as she waits for Brittany’s reply.

“A studio would be cool, but I haven’t really made any concrete plans,” She shrugs and chances a shy glance towards Santana, “Just going with the flow for now.”

For some reason, the look makes Santana’s stomach flip.

“That’s cool,” Mercedes nods and looks to Santana, “How about you, Satan? Any big plans when the school year ends, you gonna stay in Lima?”

Santana’s stomach flips again. She wants to ask what’s with the twenty questions but she knows Mercedes is genuinely curious. She’s just a little on edge because she and Brittany haven’t actually talked about what happens after the year is up. She has a plan, sort of, but it’s not too in depth career-wise so she just speaks truthfully.

“I’m going wherever Britt goes,” Santana replies and chances a glance at Brittany to find her grinning back.

Thankfully Brittany’s too busy staring at Santana to notice the knowing look Quinn gives them both.

They spend the rest of the time catching up but soon they’re back at the hotel, gathering the squad for practice. It’s a different kind of energy practicing at the pop-up gym designated for the competing teams, but Santana can tell that the squad is pumped. Every full out is executed perfectly and they’re at the point now where there are no longer any slip-ups.

But even with that in mind, once they get out there tomorrow anything could happen. They could perform the routine perfectly in practice like they have been but go out there end up making the easiest mistake. She has seen it happen to even the top rated squads so no one is exempt now matter how much you practice. All they can do know is hope that all their work pays off and that they’d done everything they can to prepare the squad for this moment.

\\

Waking up the next morning, Santana can already tell it’s going to be a day. Her stomach is still in knots after her shower and she can hardly keep her breakfast down. Brittany looks to her like she’s going to fall apart at any moment, but Santana is tough.

Or at least, she can put on a brave face in front of everyone else.

“Here babe, drink this,” Brittany offers Santana a bottle of ginger ale she must’ve picked up downstairs. Quinn’s off showering while Santana sits at the edge of her and Brittany’s bed trying to get thoughts together.

“Thanks,” Santana smiles and starts to sip the drink slowly. She always hated how worked up she got for these sort of things. No matter what kind of pep talk she gave herself, she always ended up with an uneasy stomach.

Brittany comes to sit at the edge of the bed next to Santana and starts to rub comforting circles between her shoulder blades. When it came to competition day jitters, Brittany always handled them way better than Santana. Granted, her secret was waking up two hours before their alarm to go for a run to clear her mind. You couldn’t get Santana to do that even if you bribed her with sex afterwards.

“I hate this feeling,” Santana grumbles after taking a deep breath. She brings the bottle up to her lips again and goes for another sip, but she still feels so nauseous.

“I know you do,” Brittany gives her an apologetic smile and continues to rub at her back, “They’re going to be great out there, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Santana hums, “I know.”

Quinn emerges a moment later and looks to Santana, “Still feeling shitty?”

“I should be good to go once I finish this,” Santana says as she raises the bottle.

Quinn nods and sets off to finish getting ready while Santana and Brittany count down the minutes left before they need to start checking on the girls. With the start of the competition just a couple of hours away, they need to hurry up and get out there. The most practice they can get in before it’s their time, the better.

\\

“Love it. You look stunning. Great. Beautiful. Amazing,” Brittany compliments each girl that passes her as the squad enters the practice space in a single file line. There are other competing squads around so the tension is already in the air.

“Did Jessica do this poof?” Santana smirks as another girl passes her by, “It looks so good! Snooki would be very proud.”

“Higher the hair, the closer to God,” Quinn comments as she gives each girl an approving nod.

Once everyone gets settled on the mat, the coaches go to stand in front of them. They eye everyone from their hair to their make up  to their uniforms and everyone looks on point. That’s an easy ten points right there! They go on the perform their routine in its entirety and even gain the attention of a couple other squads that aren’t in the same bracket as them.

The coaches fill with pride upon seeing the awed expressions of the little audience they’ve gained. With completing another flawless execution, the onlookers clap and compliment the squad before dispersing. It’s great for the girls’ confidence and even settles some of Santana’s nerves that are still hanging around.

Santana has entered the fight or flight mode level of her anxiousness and is working on pure adrenaline for the time being. In front of the squad, she still rules with an iron fist and drills perfection into everyone’s heads even if she feels like puking every five minutes. With just fifteen minutes left until it’s their time to perform, the start making their way to the stage.

Everyone’s holding their heads high, determination in their eyes, as they walk through the sea of their competition. They all look fierce and the crowds part for them easily. There’s just something about the Cheerios that have always commanded attention; is it the amount of wins or is it their reputation? Santana doesn’t know, but she’s not going to ask questions either. This is one of the awesome perks of the Cheerios legacy, everyone knows who they are.

It’s also terrifying because Santana, Brittany and Quinn can either continue the tradition of winning or they can run the legacy right into the ground. Was Sue’s faith in them misplaced or did she know something the three of them didn’t? Did they do everything the can to secure a win? Did they do everything they can to prepare the squad?

These are the kind of thoughts that race through Santana’s minds as the squad gathers backstage.

“Okay girls, listen up!” Quinn calls out and everyone quickly comes together for a huddle. They’re all holding each other’s hands tightly as Quinn speaks, “This is your moment, this is what you’ve been working so hard for all year. You’re going to go out there and kill it. You already know what to do.”

“No matter what we place,” Santana adds, “You will wait and accept the award with a smile on your face. Then you will go over to whoever won first place and you will congratulate them. Get me?”

The girls all nod before Brittany begins to speak next.

“Who run the world?” She asks, trying to hype the girls up.

“Girls!”

“I said, who run the world?” Brittany calls out again, this time a little louder.

“GIRLS!”

“That’s right,” Brittany grins proudly then nods to the stage, “Go get’em.”

\\

It’s the most nerve-racking 2:15 minutes of Santana’s entire life, but she gets through it without passing out so that’s a plus. She had been screaming her lungs out along with Brittany and Quinn from the front of the stage where they were allowed to watch. Her palms were sore from smacking them so hard against the mat and her voice was hoarse but she’d do it all over again because their girls fucking did the damn thing.

There were a couple places that were shakier than they were in practice and there might’ve been a close call halfway through the routine, but nothing too detrimental. At least, not in comparison to some of the other teams’ mistakes she saw.

That First Place trophy was there’s, it has to be!

\\

The top five teams gather on stage and Santana’s squeezing Brittany and Quinn’s hands so tightly that she’s beginning to lose feeling. She has to remind herself to breathe as she watches the man slide open envelope after envelope. They watch anxiously as the remaining awards are slowly given away and the feeling only intensifies the longer the Cheerios stand there.

It’s a good thing, that means they’ve still got a shot at first.

The announcer couldn’t be any slower though as he reads out the team names and Santana hates the ridiculous build up as he finally gets around to calling out the team who placed third.

It takes her a moment to realize it, but she’s actually shaking from anticipation when he finally announces the Third Place winner.

She doesn’t hear the name of the squad, she doesn’t care.

All she knows is that it isn’t their girls.

The Cheerios are now in the top two.

“Please, please,” Santana hears Brittany mumble as the three of them watch on with high hope.

They worked their asses off, the coaches worked their asses off, they’ve got to win this!

The year has been full of development and Santana needs to hear their name, she needs to because these girls deserve it after losing their previous coach and having to deal with the three of them who have little experience.

She needs to hear their name because they need to be rewarded for how hard they worked for this, they need to be rewarded for the blood, sweat and tears they put into this.  

She needs to hear their name because she, Brittany and Quinn never would’ve pictured themselves in this position. They never dreamed of being coaches; they weren’t even talking before Sue roped them into doing this and now…to see how far they come, it would be gut-wrenching for them not to bring this win home.

“In Second Place,” The announcer starts off before taking a pause, “With a score of 98.4633…”

Santana just about blacks out as the announcer calls out the Second Place winner. He waves his hand towards the designated squad as his colleague presents them with a significantly smaller trophy.

The Cheerios remain stoic, just as Santana told them, as they watch the trophy get handed out.

Santana squeezes on the hands she’s holding a little tighter because the trophy is going to the team standing adjacent from the their girls.

“So in First Place with a score of 98.4751,” The announcer is suddenly speaking quickly, “The William McKinley High School Cheerios!”

\\

Santana hasn’t felt this kind of high since winning Nationals in New York so she can only imagine how the kids feel toting around the giant Nationals trophy through the halls of WMHS upon their return to Lima.

Faculty and students watch on as they make their way through the halls and Santana can hear is the sound of We are the Champions playing through the loud speakers.

She’s been replaying the moment the trophy was handed to the girls on stage back in L.A.; how Brittany lifted her in the air and spun around just as she always does, how Quinn scrambled to get climb on stage and nearly busted her ass getting up there, the feeling of pure accomplishment as they all gathered to have their picture taken.

They did it, they actually fucking did it.

They took this squad and managed to coach them all the way to Nationals without a bit of experience coaching and won.

They put their lives on hold and took on Sue’s random proposition and succeeded.

So now what?

\\

“Welcome Coaches!” Figgins greets loudly and he’s standing behind his desk with his arms held out. If the desk wasn’t in the way, Santana’s sure he would go in for a hug, “And National Champions, congratulations!”

The three coaches bow their heads in thanks as they settle into their usual seats.

“As you know, Sue enlisted you three to lead the Cheerios to another win and you have accomplished that. Sue also promised a bonus if you were to place at Nationals.”

“Yes. We know,” Santana replies, already over the anticipation.

Figgins’ smile falters as he goes to reach beneath his desk to retrieve a stack of tapes, “Sue left these behind as well. There is a tape for every instance you may have encountered,” He starts to squint at the labels and read out the titles, “Didn’t place at Sectionals? Disgrace. Didn’t Place at Regionals? Shameful. Didn’t Place at Nationals? Outrageous.”

“None of those apply to us,” Quinn states with furrowed brows.

Figgins smiles grows, “Yes. I have a tape for that too.” He leans over to slide the tape into the VCR – why is that even a thing still, Santana will never know.

Soon the screen fills with Sue sitting at her desk. There’s a proud smirk on her face as she greets the coaches, “Well, well, well…looks like you three aren’t completely useless after all. If you’re watching this, that means you actually took the squad all the way to Nationals and won. If that’s not the case, Figgins…you’re fired.”

“She can’t fire me,” Figgins assures them, but the girls remain focused on the screen.

“You’ve managed to take this team worthy of greatness and lead them to victory. Without my tutelage, they would’ve failed but I had faith in you that you three would be able to carry on my legacy and – look at that – I wasn’t wrong. Congratulations ladies, you’ve earned this. Figgins! Hand out the envelopes.”

Figgins nods as if Sue is really there and starts to pass out three envelopes.

“I am a woman of my word so inside those envelopes you will find the bonus checks I promised to you at the beginning of the year.”

Santana’s eyes go wide as she counts the zeroes, “How in the hell?”

“Don’t question where it comes from, Sandbags,” Sue points out and Santana pales at the call out. Maybe Sue really is there in spirit? “You’ve earned it ladies, I’m sure the squad put you through hell but maybe now you can understand why I am the way that I am. Or was? I’m technically speaking to you from beyond.”

Brittany chuckles at that but Santana’s still in shock from the amount of money jotted down on this check.

“The odds were against you this year and truthfully, I didn’t think you’d get this far. Maybe place first at Sectionals, because anyone can place first there, but Nationals is a whole other thing. You exceeded my expectations of you and for that, I have one thing left to ask.”

“Here we go,” Quinn mumbles as the three of them scoot to the edges of their seat in anticipation for what’s about to come.

“You’ve managed to take this team all the way to Nationals with little experience and you won,” Sue reiterates, “That is the making of true greatness, I would know. Not just anyone is worthy of this role, so extend the offer to you three once more. Coach the girls again, bring home another win, uphold the Cheerios legacy. Give it one more year. The same offer will continue to renew for as long as you decide to stay.”

Then the tape cuts out and the screen goes black.

Santana, Brittany and Quinn are left there staring at the screen as if it’ll give it more answers. Santana doesn’t know what to think, she doesn’t know how to react. She just sits there and lets it all soak in.

Another offer. One more year. Stay in Lima.

“Well Coaches, the decision is yours,” Figgins says after a moment, “You have time to think it over, but I do hope you return. We would be so lucky to have you all coach for us again.”

\\

Santana doesn’t really hear anything Quinn says as she stands, but she takes note of Brittany’s movements too and follows them both out of the room when they turn to leave. Her mind is moving a mile a minute and the bonus check weighs heavily in her hand. She made enough money over the year to return to New York and this bonus check is enough to find a way nicer place than she had before.

But that’s just a big chunk of money that she’ll have to chip away over time, how long will it last? Could she return to working at the Spotlight Diner just to make ends meet when it all runs out? Could she even go back to that after the kind of accomplishments she earned while coaching? Does she have any idea what she wants to after this?

“You look like you’re going to explode,” Brittany comments as she nudges Santana.

Santana blinks slowly and realizes that they’re out in the parking lot. She sees Quinn hanging back a little while Brittany rests against the car. Santana tries to smile at them both, “It’s a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” Brittany chuckles lightly and reaches out to hold Santana’s hand.

“Like Figgins said, we’ve got time to decide,” Quinn shrugs as she takes out her car keys, “You guys talk about it and let me know what you want to do. Okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Brittany nods and looks to Santana expectantly.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Santana says too.

“Okay, well I’m going to head off then,” Quinn replies and goes to hug them both, “I’ll see you both on Monday.”

Once Quinn leaves, Brittany and Santana linger by Brittany’s car. They don’t move to get in, just rest against it in silence. It’s not awkward but there’s some tension there that Santana’s starts to hate the longer it stays.

“Do you want to – “

“It’s good money, Britt,” Santana blurts out and she’s already so deep in thought. She has been since leaving Figgins’ office.

Brittany softens, “San – “

“There’s benefits and it’s stable, the hours aren’t ridiculous and the kids aren’t so bad,” Santana starts to list aloud. She pauses for a moment, “But it’s Lima and I don’t know how I feel about staying here…because it’s Lima. We always said we’d get out of here and we did but coming back was never part of the plan. But the plan…it’s not exactly what it once was because none of this was apart of the plan. The plan involved living in New York – “

“You don’t have to do this now,” Brittany offers as she turns to look at Santana, “There’s time to talk about this.”  

Santana can see what looks like sadness or maybe worry in blue eyes and Santana wonders why that is as she says, “I know but I can’t just push it aside, not when it’s something this big. I’m just going to keep thinking about it until we decide.”

“Wait…We?” Brittany questions and suddenly the sadness fades, “As in, you and I?”

Santana smiles at her surprised tone, “Well, yeah? You’re my girlfriend, Britt, we do things together. We decide on things together. This isn’t just my choice, not when it effects you too.”

Brittany blinks like she’s taken aback and that surprises Santana.

“I – I thought…” Brittany stammers and a shy smile finds its way onto her lips as she shakes her head, “Nevermind, it was a silly thought.”

Did she think they weren’t going to do this together? Did she think she was going to leave her behind again? Santana can’t help but wonder.

“We’ve done the whole trying to do what’s best for each other without actually talking about it and that never ends well,” Santana adds as she pulls Brittany towards her. Her hands settle on her hips and Brittany’s instantly run up Santana’s arms, “And like I’ve said all year, I want to do things right this time. I want us to work. So I think we should go home and talk about this, because I don’t want to make this decision without us both being on the same page. Does that sound alright with you?”

“Yes,” The smile Brittany gives her is the brightest, most hopeful Santana’s ever seen before. It’s almost has her dropping down on one knee for maybe the third time all week.

Next Friday really can’t come fast enough.

[megumis-lashes]

Love Bites!

Vampire! Han Jisung x Reader Part 3 (Final part)

**Contains**: mentions of blood/blood drinking, parental abuse, bullying, fighting, slight swearing, emotional abuse, friends to lovers, werewolf Hyunjin, western high school standards, female reader

Flashback =

> Hello

Jisung’s POV

As much as I was overjoyed at how similar name and I were, I was struggling to hold back my anger. I had already been skeptical on what name had been up to throughout the time she stayed at my place, but hearing about the torture she went through the past few weeks was the breaking straw for me. I was furious. Thankfully I was able to have a solid conversation with her in which I rarely had to lie. Well I wasn’t really lying, more just describing my life while keeping it pretty vague. Yes, I am under a lot of pressure from my parents but it’s for slightly different reasons. I’m the next successor in one of the oldest and most powerful bloodlines in all history. A vampiric blood line. These blood lines are thousands of years older than any human bloodline. My family in particular was responsible for keeping balance among the ‘supernatural communities’. My position was so important that if were to fail in some way, a war between supernaturals and eventually humans could break out. It’s not an understatement to say I’m under a lot of pressure.

After watching a movie with name, she fell asleep on the couch. I carried her to her room and as promised, I finished her homework for her. The last thing I had to do for her was save her record. Before I went to sleep that night I made a small plan as to how I would deal with the bullies.

The next day name and I walked to school together. It was strange to say the least. I hadn’t walked with anyone before so I was worried it would be awkward. Thankfully it wasn’t. She seemed to be an extremely good mood but I could tell she was still a bit anxious about her grades.

“Look name, I promised to take care of it ok! You don’t need to worry! Your grades will be back to perfect by the end of the day!” I comforted her as I threw my arm over her shoulder.

“Alright if you say so.” She chuckled. “I’m really in debt to you aren’t I. You’ve helped me so much I have no idea how to pay you back!” She chided as she rubbed her neck bashfully.

“Name! I’ve told you not to worry about it! The only thing you need to do to pay me back is be my friend!” I exclaimed as we neared the school gates. Her cheeks warmed a bit and she adverted her eye contact from mine. If I had the capability to blush, I’d probably be blushing as well. We arrived at the school gates.

“Ha if you say so! Do you want me to meet you here after school?” She questioned.

“No, no I have something to do after school and I’m not sure how long it will take. Meet me at home?” I would convince the bullies to leave her alone after school but I didn’t want name to know.

“Ok if you say so!” She chided as she started walking through the gates.

“Here I’ll walk you to class!”

“But what about them-“

“Don’t worry about it! They’re just jealous! Try your best to ignore them and if it’s really bothering you I’ll talk to them about it!”

“Alright.”

Name was talking about the jealous stares and whispers that would fill the hallways each time someone ‘popular’ came around. I knew it bothered her as on the first day she was incredibly anxious. I learned to just drown out the noise.

After classes were ended I began to walk back to my locker. I quickly packed my bag and began searching the halls. I needed to find those girls and have a little chat with them. I couldn’t let them continue to hurt people out of jealousy. It was pathetic. I found them huddled around their ‘leader’s’ locker, chatting about the day. I tapped the leader on her shoulder, effectively causing her to jerk around facing me.

“Hi your Mia right?” I questioned keeping my ignorant act up.

“Yes. Did you need something?” She giggled. She was clearly enthused that I wanted to talk to her. He shrill giggles were painful to my sensitive hearing.

“Yes. Would you and your friends mind talking outside? I have some questions to ask you.” I tried to act as nonchalantly as possible.

“Sure!” Well that was easier than I thought. I guess they really are blinded by ‘love’. I led the girls outside to a small clearing in the back of the school. I knew that no one would interrupt us there. Once I was sure they were there to listen, I broke my ignorant act and glared at them with an icy stare. They were still trying to keep their ‘nice girl’ act.

“You wouldn’t happen to be those girl who have been bothering name right?” I questioned, a sly smile on my face.

“Oh whatever it’s not like anyone cares about her. We were just putting her back in her place. She can’t always be at the top of the school.” Their ‘leader’ Mia snapped. It didn’t take much for her to get angry. Her ‘nice girl’ act was quickly left behind.

“Are you serious? Do you know how hard she worked to get where she was? Huh? You don’t know even half of the hardships she’s had to face!” I shouted. I was furious.

“Oh? And what do you care? What is she your girlfriend or something? Don’t make me laugh!” She broke out into a small fit of laughter.

“And what if she was huh? What would you do about it? Oh that’s right I know! You’d blackmail her into staying away from her friends and threaten to ruin everything she’s built for herself!” I countered.

“No way she told you? Haha! You think your little speech will change my mind? I can just as easily ruin you!” She continued to chuckle as she wiped small tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Not on my watch.” I mumbled, blinking my eyes more heavily than normal.

As I blinked them open, the girls gasped in shock. My eyes were a blazing red, my pupils shrunken into the slits of a predator. As I opened him mouth to speak, the girls could see the slight glint of the light on my fangs. I made sure to put on a show for them.

“Has anyone ever taught you that actions have consequences?” I growled. As I shifted slightly forward, the girls cowered back in fear. “What are you!” The girls screamed.

“I’m your worst nightmare.” I smirked. This was kind of fun.

The two girls scrambled away in fear, leaving their ‘leader’ to fend for herself. She shouted back in retaliation, furious that her disciples valued themselves more than her.

“I’m willing to make a compromise with you. None of us have to get hurt.” I mumbled as I leaned against the wall.

“W-what is it?” She asked as she shivered.

“If you promise to leave name alone and never bother her again, then I won’t feel the need to hurt you or your friends.” I scoffed.

“Fine. Just don’t touch me you monster!” I cringed at the name. It brought back bad memories.

“Oh and you are to never mention what you saw here today. You tell no one what you’ve seen me look like. Make sure your little friends don’t start spreading rumors either.” I sighed. The last thing I needed were more conspiracy theories about me.

“Whatever. You win. Just don’t hurt me.” She mumbled as she began to collect herself and run away. I sighed. This week was really difficult.

Name’s POV

Time passed fast. Jisung and I grew closer over the weeks I stayed at his house. We bonded over what I thought were completely negative topics to me. It’s strange how friendship works. At the same time I finally started talking to Hyunjin again. I explained the situation to him and he was furious but then saddened by the fact I didn’t trust him enough to tell him anything about my family. He offered to let me stay at his house out of kindness and competition, as he an Jisung seemed to have some form of dislike for each other. I brushed it off as some childish, competitive thing but some of their interactions were a bit strange. Despite them agreeing to act civil around each other when in front of me, I could still see the icy stares they gave each other when they thought I wasn’t looking.

Compared to my previously hectic life, everything seemed to be a lot less stressful now. It was fall, nearing Halloween, and school was nearing fall testing. Jisung had dealt with my bullies in some magical way. I didn’t see them at all and they never bothered me again. The only reminder of their existence was a small note left in my locker. I found it a few days after Jisung had told them off. It was a short note written on a cute pastel card. The girl’s name was Aimee. In the letter she expressed how sorry she was for not helping me out. She explained how the other two girls had persuaded her to be ‘friends’ with them, although they didn’t treat her that way. She was their little errand girl whom they had also blackmailed in the past. The note was sweet so I thanked her for it and asked if she wanted to be friends. She accepted and we often studied together. The only thing that was seeming out of place in this situation was her handwriting on the note. It was messy and looked rushed, almost as if she was writing quickly out of fear. When I asked Aimee about it she said she was simply late for class and was rushing. Maybe I was just looking to far into it? I would’ve dismissed it entirely if it weren’t for Jisung’s description of what happened.

> “Hey Jisung? I mumbled.

> “Hmm?” He hummed as he glanced my way. It was the day after he had ‘taken care of’ my bullies and I was curious.

> “How did you take care of the bullies? It’s been a full 24 hours and I haven’t even caught a glimpse of one of them.”

> “Oh I just uh... scared them a bit a guess.” He chuckled.

> “Huh? Wait you didn’t blackmail them back did you? Jisung!” I shouted as I leaned forward from my spot on the couch.

> “No haha.. I wouldn’t call it black mail. Think of it as a negotiation of sorts. I’m just so good at my social skills I managed to convince them to leave you alone!” He chided.

> “You think I believe that? Hah just say you blackmailed them I won’t tell! Plus what could you have even said? I mean what’s worse than being kicked out of school?” I questioned.

> “Come on Name I told you I didn’t blackmail them! Just forget about it. It doesn’t matter how it happened just be happy they left you alone.”

> Sensing the slight irritation in his voice I decided to leave it alone.

This whole interaction seemed strange to me. Why wouldn’t he feel comfortable telling me what happened? He couldn’t have done something wrong could he? As much as I wanted an answer, I dismissed it as unimportant. The only issue was Jisung began to act very odd. As it neared the end of the month, I saw him less and less. Whenever I questioned him about it, he simply said he was busy with extra school work and errands. I sure as hell didn’t believe him now. Despite his family’s problems, they were never super focused on Jisung’s grades. He wasn’t a bad student but he definitely didn’t care enough about school to voluntarily spend extra time doing work.

It was a cool Friday in late October. Tomorrow was Halloween. Jisung and I had agreed to watch horror movies tomorrow in Halloween spirit. Despite the recent positive events in my life, I was still on edge. Something was out of place. Jisung had been spending less time at home and his excuses became more and more suspicious. I wanted to dismiss the whole idea but it was still nagging at the back of my mind. It was nearing 9:30 PM. Jisung had told me he was going out with friends today and would be home a bit later than normal. I wondered how long he would be out for.

Bored out of my mind I knew I had to do something. I was beginning to feel anxious and I needed to shake off the feeling. I decided to go for a small walk to get hot chocolate from the small shop in town. I quickly grabbed an oversized hoodie, that just so happened to belong to Jisung, and threw on some boots. I grabbed some cash from my wallet and began to walk to the shop. As much as I hoped the cool air would calm me, walking in the night seemed to give the opposite effect than I wished for. It was pitch black, the only light source being the glowing full moon. For some reason the streets that were typically bustling with some amount of people at all times were empty. No was was around. It was quiet, almost too quiet. Suddenly I heard a ‘howl’ from behind me. The loud noise cut through the silence like butter. I shivered, picking up my pace. I could hear growling from behind me as I walked. I was terrified. My quick pace quickly morphed into a sprint as I dashed across the street to the shop doors. I was almost there. Despite the hot breath I could feel at my ankles, I dared not to look back. I didn’t have anything with me to defend myself this time. Upon reaching the shop doors I slammed inside, shocking the few people at the store.

“Is something wrong miss?” The store clerk questioned my dramatic entry. I knew no one would believe my wild animal story so I quickly made up an excuse.

“Ahh I’m sorry! You see I’m in track and cross country and I like to time myself on how long it takes me to run to certain places! Don’t mind me!” I awkwardly rubbed my neck as I slipped into the store. I quickly put together a small hot chocolate and payed for it. I wanted to get home as soon as possible. As I left the store in a light jog, I decided to take a different way home.

My breathing was cut off short as I was slammed into an alley wall. I had been stupid enough to take a back way through an alley. No one would hear me if I called for help. The thing that had slammed me into the wall was what I assumed to be the same animal that had chased me. It was a jet black creature, its features resembling those of a wolf. It was growing and snarling above me. I was wondering as to why it didn’t kill me yet. Surely it was capable of such an act.

“Hyunjin, come on. You know I never agreed to baby sit you all day, but I don’t think your parents would appreciate it if you murdered some girl in an ally way.” I knew that voice. It was Jisung. And he mentioned Hyunjin? What would they be doing over here? My thoughts were cut short when a person, who I could only assume was Jisung, walked towards the creature in front of me. He seemingly ‘chopped’ the creatures neck, effectively knocking the creature to the ground. As the creature fell to the ground, I was met with the face of the boy I had spent my time with lately, Han Jisung.

The usually hyper boy looked like completely different now. He wore a black sweatshirt and jeans along with black combat boots. His appearance was rather disheveled. The most disturbing features of all were how inhuman he looked. He had piercing red eyes, his pupils shrunken to the slits of a predator. He had blood all over his face, more specifically trailing from the corner of his mouth. His sweatshirt was torn in multiple places, the one that stood out the most were the long claw shaped tears. Through the holes I could see his skin glimmer with blood. He had been wounded somehow.

“N-name?” He stuttered. “What are you doing out here at night?” I shivered. I had no idea how to react to the images in front of me. I was shocked to say the least.

“I c-could ask you the same thing J-jisung! What are you doing?” I questioned. I had never been more confused and concerned.

“Uuhhh..” He scratched his neck nervously. “It’s hard to explain. But it’s not as bad as it looks ok! I’ll explain when we get home....but first....” he mumbled avoiding eye contact.

“Huh?” I was still extremely confused. I didn’t want to just jump to conclusions but he didn’t exactly look innocent. Seeing the confusion etched on my face, Jisung sighed and pointed to the ground. I glanced down and nearly collapsed out of shock. On the ground was Hwang Hyunjin. He looked almost five times as disheveled as Jisung. He was clad in black as well. His shirt was in shreds leaving him practically shirtless. The most shocking detail was his wolf like featured. He had patches of pitch black fur scattered across his skin paired with black ears and tail. From what I could tell he also had fangs. He was sound asleep on the ground.

“Could you help me carry him home? He won’t wake up for at least 24 hours and I could really use your help.” Jisung pleaded. I stumbled back into the wall, almost tripping over my own feet. Then I started chuckling which eventually built into a full blown laughing fit.

“Ji-Jisung! Haha! This is the most elaborate prank I’ve ever seen! It’s hilarious honestly! You just wanted to scare me for Halloween huh! But I’m curious as to how you did it! Hyunjin’s costume looked so realistic!” I squeezed out between laughs. When I looked up I saw Jisung. He had the most dead pan expression on his face.

“Name, we’re not joking or pranking you for that matter.” He stated. I shuffled, my laughter trailing into silence.

“Huh? You’re kidding me.” I didn’t want to believe it.

“Look name, I really don’t want to explain everything in a dark alleyway. If you can help me bring Hyunjin home I promise I’ll explain everything thoroughly.” He began reaching for Hyunjin’s body.

“Please name.” He pleaded, making eye contact for the first time that night. His eyes were still a fiery red.

“Alright, but you sure as hell better explain everything.” I mumbled as I threw Hyunjin’s right arm over my shoulder.

Carrying Hyunjin home was just as difficult as Jisung said. He was taller than both of us and didn’t exactly weigh nothing. It took a solid half an hour to carry him to Jisung’s house. We brought him to another guest room and closed the door. Out of exhaustion, we both collapsed on his sofa.

“Ok Han, explain.” I stated as I made eye contact with him. He was still covered in blood and his hoodie was still iin shreds.

“Actually let me fix your wounds first.” I quickly went to grab a first aid kit and a wet towel. I handed him the towel and told him to wash his face.

“Lift up your sweatshirt I’ll clean your stomach wounds.” I bashfully looked away.

“No don’t worry about those. They’ll heal on their own.” He waved his hands in front of him.

“Jisung those wounds are deep. If I don’t clean them they’ll get infected.” I pushed up his sweatshirt myself, blushing at the contact, and washed his wounds with the towel.

“Name I’m serious you don’t need to do anything! Give them a minute and they’ll be gone!” He pleaded.

“I told you these wounds are deep! You could die if they get infected!” He shook his head and nodded towards the wounds. I went to continue checking them to see something surprising. The wounds were gone. The only sign that they were there at all were the slight scars that remained.

“See I told you not to worry. I don’t die that easily.” He murmured. “The scarring should go away in a couple hours.” I blinked in shock. I sat back on the couch.

“Somehow you now have even more to explain.” I stated, rolling my eyes.

“Alright I’ll explain. But you have to promise me you won’t laugh.” He crossed his arms.

“Fine.” I was ready to hear his explanation.

“Alright so I’ll start from the beginning. I’m not human. I’m what you humans would call a ‘vampire’ as dumb as it must sound.” He sighed and rubbed his neck. “I drink blood for survival but not from humans, from animals. I honestly don’t like it but I would die if I didn’t. I’m the next successor of my family’s blood line, I wasn’t lying when I said that. My parents have always been ‘peace keepers’ of sorts. I have to be strong enough to take the position. It’s a lot of pressure.” He paused to massage his temples. This was clearly difficult for him to explain. “About what you saw today, it’s a full moon. Most ‘supernaturals’ like me are at full strength on full moons as cliche as it sounds. Most typically hunt on those days. For my physical features of course you’ve seen my eyes and healing abilities but I also have fangs of course.” He opened his mouth to show me.

“What about Hyunjin? Is he a werewolf or something?” I chuckled. I was more amused than scared at this point.

“Actually you’re correct! He’s a werewolf, in a similar position to me. He’s the next alpha of his pack. The only issue is he’s terrible at controlling his wolf, especially on full moon days. I’m typically assigned to watch over him on those days, despite the feud between vampires and werewolves.” He explained.

“Wow.” I was at a loss of words. Despite all this I still wasn’t scared. I knew neither of them would try to harm me, at least not out of free will. I was just shocked as all.

“Look name I’m really sorry for keeping this all from you! It’s hard to explain and I understand if you don’t want to be friends-“ I quickly cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick peck was enough to make him stop talking.

“Jisung!” I giggled. “You don’t how to worry about it I understand! I know neither of you would harm me and I can see that this is a difficult topic to explain! I’m here for you just like you are there for me!” I smiled. I was happy he trusted me enough to explain this. He blinked in shock. Still processing that I had just kissed him. He quickly broke from his trance and rubbed his neck bashfully.

“Wow I didn’t expect you to take it that well. I honestly thought you would hate me.” He chuckled

“Come on I could never hate you! I do like you after all!” I’m not sure how this conversation ended with a confession, but for some reason I was feeling confident.

“Really? You can like me even while knowing what I really am?” He questioned in disbelief.

“Yep! You’re still Jisung aren’t you?” I giggled.

“Well in that case I like you too!” This time he kissed me effectively stopping me from laughing.

For the rest of that night we watched Halloween theme movies, some of which Jisung ruined by claiming they were all false. Everything seemed fine until we finished the second movie. It was really late now and I was close to passing out. Jisung got up and began to put his shoes and coat on.

“Jisung where are you going it’s really late?” I questioned, rubbing my eyes to stay awake.

“Well you see I was watching Hyunjin the whole time and didn’t have much time to hunt. I’m really hungry.” He confessed while scratching his neck, I nervous habit he would constantly lean into.

“This late though? It’s not safe!” I began to walk to him.

“Name you know I can hold my own ground. I’ll be quick I promise!” He waved his hands in front of him.

“Why don’t you just eat here?” I questioned.

“From where-“ I cut him off.

“From me! I promised to help you! You can drink from me!” I proclaimed. The look on his face said other wise.

“No no absolutely not happening! I never drink from people! I don’t want to hurt you!” He frantically dismissed my idea.

“I know you won’t hurt me! Plus I can always tap you if it becomes to much! Pleassseee! I promise I’ll be ok!” I really wanted him to stay here. Despite his strength, walking outside in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly safe.

“Alright but just this one time! And only a little!” He still didn’t look very convinced. We walked to his sofa and sat down.

“Alright so how does this work?” I asked tilting my head in confusion.

“So I’ll just bite your neck. It will be slightly painful at first but it’ll fade. I’ll be quick I promise. Are you sure you want to do this?” He questioned out of concern.

“I’m sure! I’ll be fine ‘Sung you don’t need to worry!”

He gulped and gently turned my head, giving him greater access to my neck. He brought his face to the area. I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain. He bit down. As he described there was a slight prick of pain but it quickly dissipated. It evolved into a feeling of numbness. It felt kind of nice. We sat there for a few minutes until Jisung pulled away.

“Are you alright?” He questioned, staring into my eyes.

“I’m fine.” I smiled. “I am really tired though.” I yawned. He nodded. He stood up and grabbed a cup of water and a bandaid. As I was drinking the water he placed the bandaid over my small wound. He kissed my forehead and led me to bed.

“Let’s go to sleep.” He smiled.

We both climbed into his bed. I pecked his lips one last time before closing my eyes and snuggling up to him.

“Hey Jisung?” I mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”

“I think I love you as well”

I smiled and I drifted to sleep. Today had been an even full day.

Also happy belated Halloween :) 🎃