#pang pd

[dearweirdme]

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/720858699962384384/everything-has-been-in-chaos-since-the-solo-era

han sohee rumor is hilarious because it’s showing u can connect just abt anyone who goes to the same city and comes back at the same time. how it escalated to something romantic/sexual so fast is a little disturbing

as for txt- i think original anger stemmed from jimin’s sabotage and the lack of transparency from the company’s side when everyone turned to them for an answer/help. jimin didn’t have to freefall off the charts if the company pushed for the song. but bang pd went on to have an interview with billboard, brushing over jimin’s achievement and talking abt ai etc instead, and weverse went on to publish an article highlighting a racist man’s “success” over jimin’s “partial success.”

Hi anon!

Oh, Tae and Jk will always be connected romantically to every women they are in the same area/setting/event with. Tae has been marketed as 'boyfriend material', and Jk has been marketed as 'the mysterious sexy one'. I feel you can even see this by looking at Jkkrs, because they too often emphazise Jk's sexual prowess. In the end it has to do with stereotypical ideas I think. Amongst Taekookers as well Tae is often partrayed (in fanfics, fanart, and even in analysis) as the more feminin one. I think that stemms from the way the boys are portrayed in the band. But it is hugely enlarged in fandom's minds (generally speaking), because by the way Jk prefers to dress in private... he does not show skin and his body much. And Tae has the ability to appear very mascuine one day, but leaning towards more feminine the next. Masculine bahavior often comes with the notion that men are womanizers and that is why they will always be connected to women in their proximity.

When looking at that Bang pd article through BTS eyes it does not look great I agree. I can see how that hurt people. He makes it look like BTS tought them how to grow big and feels like minimizing BTS I even wonder if he actually mentioned Jimin's succes himself, since the mention of Jimin reaching nr 1 is between brackets. I think the intend was to appear like he invests equally in all artists and bands though. And mostly to elaborate on how he intends to grow as a company. Yet, those things do not mean that they shouldn't push TXT.

[riot-ghost]

Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

[jiwoneiric]

midnight quarrel pt.1

—y/n won't stop practising and minji knows she needs to do something

pairing: kim minji x 6th newjeans member!reader

genre: hurt comfort

tags: minji is just worried about y/n, overworked and stubborn y/n, get up has hard choreos, y/n is '04 liner but younger than minji by 10 days :D, y/n is about the same height as minji.

warning: cursing, self-hatred, overworking, injuries?

"did we run out of trainees that we debuted someone as slow as you, y/n?"

what?

"ssaem, i don't think that's quite necessary."

you were just about to get drowned by your other voice when minji interrupts your performance director.

"why wasn't it?"

right.

probably seeing there's no response from minji, the pd turns away from you and faces minji instead.

"she's delaying the whole group's progress. if she keeps on going like this, you guys will be affected too, you know that right, kim minji?"

now why is ssaem picking a fight with minji?

"i'm truly sorry, ssaem. i'll practice harder and longer."

you hate yourself already, and it is not needed for you to see minji getting told off because of you.

"same old sentences, y/n."

you swallow down the sarcastic remark of your ssaem and bow again.

it is currently half past three in the morning but newjeans's practice room is still occupied with loud music and heavy breathing.

the only difference is that you are alone now while your members are most probably catching their sleep. you managed to convince your manager to stay a bit longer, albeit she told you not to overwork yourself, which you surely did.

the last beat of the fourth song arrives, and you fall on the floor lifelessly. your chest erratically going up and down as you try to catch your breath. your vision is getting blurry from fatigue, but you know your dance isn't perfect enough. your mind knows it very well, yet your body is trying to go against your will.

still, you roll around before trying to push yourself up with your weary arms before you feel someone's arms circle around yours before pulling you up. defensively, you turn around, a bit too fast that you can feel your head spinning even worse.

"who-"

"y/n."

a stern call of your name forces you to open your eyes, meeting minji's worried ones.

when did she get inside?

"m-minji..."

you wobble around a bit more before she fully catches you, holding your shoulder tight.

"are you crazy, y/n?"

that sentence should've gotten you mad but the worry lingering in her voice gets your tear glands working faster as you feel tears pooling in your eyes.

"i told you to ask for our help, didn't i?"

a lone tear falls across your face before you harshly wipe it off, not wanting to look weaker than you already are right now.

"it isn't that easy, min."

you look away upon seeing her frown.

"don't you trust us?"

you bite your lips but the words slip out eventually.

"well, don't you trust me?"

a few minutes pass by and the heavy silence is enough of an answer for you. enough to switch your sadness to anger and disappointment.

"exactly."

you huff out before backing away, walking towards your bag, and putting your stuff inside, although it looks like you're shoving your stuff inside.

"y/n."

"stop, minji."

a pang on your chest.

"i'll stop practising today as you wanted so i want you to let me be."

and another one.

hurriedly, you turn everything off, and seeing that you still love your member, you grab her wrist without even looking at her before dragging her outside the room.

you are impressed that she still won't say or do anything, not even while you are locking up the room.

"don't wait for me."

were the last words you gave her before parting ways, needing to wind off your broken heart over her distrust of you.

it hurts more when you realize that she still won't say anything to at least objects the fact that she did not trust you.

it is like the world is against you today.

or is it that it has always been?

nevertheless, you tighten your hold on your padding jacket as the strong wind gushes over you, the cold temperature seeping inside your bones.

why would you stay outside at this abandoned park if you know it's cold, right?

but you know your status so not risking getting caught by any of your fans inside a random convenience store, you settled down at the nearest park, glad that no one is here.

the sun is almost rising but you don't plan on going back to the dorm just yet. thank goodness you don't have any schedule for the upcoming two days. the pain in your heart still lingers and you don't want to cause a scene inside the girls' safe abode. your phone was so loud with notifications that you decided to turn it off about an hour ago.

but you turn it on back, waiting for the burst of notification sounds but instead, a call comes right in.

you look at the caller id and sigh before answering.

"dani?"

"unnie! where are you?'

you notice the loud background noise and pull the phone away for a bit.

5:32 a.m.

why are they being so loud already?

"everything alright there, dani?"

"obviously not, unnie. minji unnie is crying and you are... wherever you are, right now!"

minji is crying?

oh no.

"wait, i'm on my way."

"hurry up, unnie. or else you might need to see us having a crying fest."

you chuckle a bit upon hearing dani's way of lightening the mood before ending the call.

you guess you need to come home at last.

"y/n!"

you shut your eyes tight as hanni's loud screech of your name pierced your ear.

the girl pulls you into a hug and you notice how there are no sight of kim minji at all.

"where is she?"

your voice slows as to not let her know you ask about her. thanks to hanni's tact, she quietens down her voice too.

"she's in her room. haerin got waken up by her sobbing on her bed, that's when dani realized you aren't home."

you nodded in understanding and thanked her but as you were about to walk away, she grips your wrist, tight.

"i asked her this too earlier but she won't budge so did you guys fight, y/n?"

did we?

you clenched your teeth.

"i'm not trying to be immature here but i was the one who got hurt earlier."

you say truthfully with a frown on your face as you can feel your heart hurting physically when the scene a few hours ago is repeated in your mind.

you perceived how worries fill hanni's gaze on you.

"are you alright, y/n?"

right.

are you?

"i don't know hanni but i can't just ignore the fact that she cried."

"y/n, i think it's better if you don't go to her. i love you as much as i love her and i won't let you get hurt again."

hanni is right. you're afraid that you can't control your emotions if you catch sight of minji right now. you hug her your gratefulness before going inside your shared room with dani.

you took about an hour to arrive at the dorm earlier so it's safe to say that your roommate is back in her deep sleep. you put your bag away and throw yourself onto the bed, slowly drifting into your dreamland as the fatigue from overworking earlier catches you back.

you woke up a few hours later but there's still no sign of minji even after you got out of your room to eat your brunch. it's bothering you so much but at the same time, you don't feel like seeing her face either. nonetheless, you asked hanni again.

"pham, is she still in her room?"

"yup. i went inside earlier and it looked like she was sleeping but who knows."

you contemplate if you should go see her but hanni is quick to interrupt you.

"if you want to go to her, just remember you have the right to be upset too, okay?"

warmth fills you up upon listening to hanni's words.

"since when are you good with your words, pham?"

you chuckle as she smacked your head.

"stop ruining the mood, y/n!"

just then, a soft low voice resonates through the kitchen.

"y/n?"

it was minji's. the deafening silence consuming the space is agitating you, and most probably hanni too, since you catch her small frown.

"should i give you guys some space?"

"stay!", "yes."

oh, now the silence is getting even more jarring.

but before hanni could decide on that, minji rushes to you and quickly drags you to her room.

you waited for her to lock the door before your anger wins over you.

"what the hell, minji?!"

you really don't want to shout at her but your rage and mortification over her silence last night is taking over yourself.

"we need to talk."

you heard how her voice wavered and how she can't even meet your gaze and that's all you need to know both of you are not ready to talk about what happened yet.

“i cant talk right now, minji.”

“what do you mean by that?”

your chest starts heaving frantically as your anger is getting over your mind.

"you hurt me so much and what? you expect me to just be alright about it after a few hours, kim?"

you saw how hurt flashed over her eyes when you called her by her last name. still, you ignored it knowing that if she still insists to talk, you are going to hurt her further.

"we are going to talk later, minji."

you added before reaching over the doorknob behind her before you feel a weak tug on your shirt's sleeve.

"y/n, please."

you watch how minji is on the verge of breaking down and strangely, the sight of that washes down most—not all—of your rage. Immediately, an overwhelming wave of guilt crashes your heart.

maybe, just maybe.

you grab her and pull her into your embrace right away. it seems like she's been holding those tears for so long from how hard she's sobbing in your arms right now.

you frown as you feel your heart aching, unconsciously clenching minji's shirt a bit too tight. it is very unusual for minji to cry so it hurts more that you need to witness her crying because of you. she rarely cries, at least not in front of you or the other members.

noticing it, minji looks slightly to the left, gasping silently when she sees tears on your face. you try to hide your face by looking away, but you only cry harder when all she does is hug you tighter, this time with rubs on your back.

after a long silence filled with efforts of comforting each other, minji speaks first.

“i'm sorry, y/n. i should have denied that and told you that i trust you…i know.” 

the problem is that she didn't.

your other voice makes you felt like you couldn't breathe. anger, frustration, and hurt are filling up your heart, squeezing it until tears fall from your eyes even more.

“then why didn't you?” 

you bite your lips, even harder to the point you can feel the iron taste of blood on your tongue when you feel minji's hold on you weakens.

"i—"

it stops there. neither minji or you say anything after a few minutes.

"i told you. we shouldn't talk about this yet."

you break both the silence and the hug, not failing to notice how minji's frown deepens.

"i'm truly sorry, minji, but let's talk later."

with that, you hurriedly grab the doorknob again, scared that minji will try anything to halt you from leaving. your heart jumped when you are met face-to-face with hanni's worried figure. hurriedly, you wipe your tears before retreating to your room.

"unnie! are you alright? were you crying?"

unfortunately, your roommate notices your entrance, and apparently your tears-stained cheeks too. dani springs up immediately from her bed before pulling you into her warm hug.

"me and minji kinda have a fight, i guess."

you try to say it as nonchalantly as possible but dani knows better that you and minji crying is not to be taken lightly.

"do you want to rant about it to me or do you want your favorite vanilla latte right now?"

an amused chuckle slips out of your lips.

"mo dani, you sweet girl."

thanks to danielle, your whole body feels lighter and for the nth times, you agree on her sunshine nickname.

"yeah, yeah, i know i am now, choose!"

"but she's so bright that you can't risk making her gloomy by your problems.

"vanilla latte it is then."

"aww, no spilling the tea then, i guess."

you watch as dani walks out of your room to get your vanilla latte and maybe, just maybe, you should tag along to get some fresh air. you follow her closely from behind after making sure she knows you're tagging along. from the corner of your eyes, you can see both minji and hanni going out of minji and haerin's shared room just right before you step outside of the house.

you just hope that minji could think thoroughly and talk to you when she's fully ready.

next

a/n: thank you for giving this a read! feel free to leave a request on my ask :D comments and reblogs are so appreciated :))))

[maviezz]

Mr. GhostFace

Pairing: Stu Macher × Fem! Reader

Summary: You where on a phone call with your friend laying on your bed, when suddenly you hear something stumbling behind you…

Genre: Smut

cw: fingering, knife play, stalking, mentions of murder, dubcon (lowkey)

Word Count: 2,2k

pd: this is my first ever fic, so please let me know if there’s a spelling mistake or anything, I’ll be glad to know!!

after finishing up a gruesome murder accompanied by his accomplice, Billy, Stu ended up near your place. Picture this: he's walking down the street, fleeing from the morbid crime he had just committed, and oops, there's your house all lit up like a Friday night. Curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't resist checking it out.

Stu's not your typical guest, and you're not big on inviting folks over. No need to bother with doorbells for him. Instead, he takes the unconventional route and climbs up to your unconventionally opened window.

So, there he is, peeping through, his eyes scanning your room , then his gaze falling on your body, trying his hardest not to make any noise that might startle you. You're having a regular chat with your friend, over the phone, not knowing you've got an unexpected audience. Stu's like, "Hey, I'm just here for the show” but little do you know, he's been high-key obsessed with you, ever since he fist laid his eyes on you.

Lying on your stomach during the phone call,swinging your feet in the air while casually twirling strands of hair. Unbeknownst to you, Stu looms as a silent observer. His gaze, a mix of fascination and a hint of obsession is fixed on every animated expression. The ordinary act of twirling hair and swinging feet becomes an unwitting performance for Stu, who watches with an eerie intensity, emotions oscillating between anticipation and a peculiar connection to the conversation. The air is charged with the unspoken presence of this uninvited spectator. In an unsettling twist, Stu makes a fateful move, generating a subtle noise that draws your attention.

A sense of unease permeates the air as I detect fumbling behind my back, a shiver coursing through as the realization dawns—window is wide open. Dread takes hold; a killer is on the loose, and turning around becomes a perilous decision. Despite the inner turmoil, curiosity prevails, and I slowly shift my body and slowly turn my head back to where the noise was coming from. The visual that greets me is bone-chilling. A visceral scream tears through the air as my eyes meet those of the masked killer, an embodiment of the very fear that lurked in the shadows.

He sensed the fear etched across my face, a pang of regret gnawing at his heart. Contrary to the ominous aura, he harbored no intentions of harm; instead, a fascination with the sight of innocence under the pale moonlight took root within him. "Don't be afraid, baby," he whispered, his emotions masked by the cold exterior of his hidden face.

His tall silhouette loomed above, a revelation that he exceeded my mental image. Gradually, he eased into my personal space, his voice softening the eerie atmosphere. "No harm will come to you from me... I just wanted to get closer to my cute crush." The unexpected confession hung in the air, a disconcerting blend of fear and an oddly misplaced sense of flattery. A chill ran down my spine as his cold, gloved touch made contact with the skin on my cheek. Beneath the black robe and mask, his warmth was an unsettling contrast. Struggling to recognize his voice, an unsettling realization dawned –The psychotic killer that is terrorizing Woodsboro was inside my room, his hand grazing against my face.

"W-what do you mean? Who are you?" I stammered, the air thick with uncertainty. However, the futility of my inquiry hung in the silence; it was evident he had no intention of revealing his identity. His gloved hand traced a light caress along my cheek, savoring the softness of my skin. With audacious intent, he gently tilted my face upward, our eyes locking beneath the eerie glow of the moonlight. "Call me Ghostface," he uttered, the words hanging in the air.

"P-please don't kill me..." I pleaded, my voice trembling with fear. The Ghostface's touch sent shivers down my spine as he carefully pushed me down onto the bed, his firm grip holding my jaw. His knee positioned in between my legs created a sense of vulnerability. Although the option to run was within reach, a peculiar force seemed to immobilize me, as if my body had taken on a will of its own, drawn to the mysterious enigma of the man on top of me. The room hung heavy with suspense, the moonlight casting an eerie glow over our unsettling connection.

A devilish smile played on Ghostface's lips beneath his masked face as he sensed my lack of resistance. With a sinister grace, he pulled himself closer, a strange yet intense sensation coursing through his entire being as my delicate form pressed against him. "Don't worry, baby... I only wanna play with you," he whispered, the words hanging in the air, dripping with an ominous promise that left the room steeped in an unsettling tension. I gasped in horror as Ghostface pulled out a knife, holding it softly against my neck. "Please..." I pleaded, the dread tightening its grip on my trembling form. Slowly, he ran the blade down my chest, tearing my shirt and exposing a vulnerability that left me in display for him to feast on. A mixture of fear and helplessness hung in the air, as my breath got caught in my throat.

A shiver of anticipation ran through the Ghostface as he felt my soft skin against him. He savored the moment, relishing the intimacy, before teasingly pulling away. "You have beautiful tits” he remarked, his thumb tracing slow circles on one of my sensitive peaks, the air hung heavy with tension.

“m-mhm- fuck!” A gentle, almost imperceptible sound escaped my lips—a soft mewl—when his cold-gloved fingers delicately traced the contours of my nipple, each touch sending subtle shivers through my whole body.

The Ghostface couldn't help but express his delight through a low grunt, leaning in to whisper, “You're so captivating... I've dreamt of having you like this.'" My breath caught sharply as he violently tore apart my shirt, the fabric being tossed across the room...

“p-please don’t do this” My mind recoiled, hesitant and fearful, yet my body, in stark contrast, responded with an undeniable allure. Despite the trepidation, the man behind the mask exuded a captivating charm that stirred within me a sense of arousal, the wet spot on my panties making it impossible to hide.

He smirked behind the mask as you tried to push him away while also reacting to his touch. He slowly trailed his gloved hand down your stomach, making your skin tingle in anticipation “I won't do anything you don't want, baby." His hand found its way to the hem of your panties, slowly pushing them down to reveal your shivering and oh so damp folds. The scent of arousal was overpowering in the small room, making him even harder than before. He leaned in closer, his hot breath caressing your neck “You're so wet for me... It's like you want it."

My palms met his chest, pressing them flat against it, detecting a subtle firmness. "I'm going to call the cops," I stammered, my voice wavering. His eyes met mine as I felt the warmth of his chest beneath my hands.A sly grin adorned his lips, and he remarked, "Go ahead, make the call. But can they beat the clock?" The room seemed to pulse with tension as I hesitated, torn between the urge to reach for my phone and the magnetic pull of the man before me. His eyes held a challenge, daring me to follow through on my threat.

As the seconds stretched, I could sense the weight of his challenge in the air. The room became a battleground of wills, my hand still lingering on his chest. The unspoken tension crackled, I decided that it was best for me not to piss him off. The Ghostface smirked, enjoying your confusion. “Good choice, princess... but don't be surprised if my next move leaves you drenched." He slowly pushed his middle through your wet folds, moaning quietly as he felt just how ready you were for him. He pulled his finger out and teased your swollen clit in slow circles making it throb against his touch. A soft moan escaped my lips involuntarily as his touch sent shivers through me, his thumb pressing wet circles on my hardened nub . "F-fuck-Please don't do this," I whispered, my plea hanging in the charged air between us.

He continued toying with you, feeling your body become more and more aroused under his fingertips. He leaned in closer and whispered softly in your ear “You're such a tease, baby... making me hard for you." His voice was low and seductive as he felt your wetness begin to drip onto his finger. The realization struck him like lightning— he knew, in that very moment, that he desired you.

Flushed with embarrassment, I found myself incapable of pulling away or resisting. My pussy was glistening with my arousal, my body succumbing gradually to the allure of his touch. "D-don't," I stammered, the plea escaping my lips amid the internal struggle.Ghostface sensed your body yielding to him and couldn't resist any longer.

With a sudden movement, he slipped two long fingers into your wet cunt making you gasp in surprise. He slid them in and out slowly savoring the feeling of your warmth surrounding him. His other hand cupped your left breast, fondling it softly, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath the latex of his glove. “s-stop!” i whimpered faintly, the feeling of his middle finger inside my aching core was heady mixture of intoxication and delight sweeping over me, compelling my fingers to delicately clench the bedsheets beneath my quivering body, each thread bearing witness to the intensity of the moment.

He chuckled softly, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down on you. His fingers found your sweet spot and began to tease it mercilessly, causing your hips to buck up against him in desperation. "Do you like that, hmm?"

With a gradual nod, I acknowledged my surrender. Lost in his touch, the resistance that once lingered vanished; I no longer felt the need to push him away.

The Ghostface saw your submission and pushed his fingers deeper inside you, curling them to maximize your pleasure. Your breathing grew heavier as the sensation began to consume you, making you feel like a bundle of fire. “I'll give you what you want... just let me have my fill." He watched with satisfaction as your body arched under his touch. His other hand reached over to your core and circled your clit in time with his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge. With a groan, he leaned in closer, his masked face against your ear. "You're mine now”. He coos. In that shared moment of lust and pure passion, the room seemed to shrink, enveloping us in a cocoon of intimacy. We were entangled in a dance, where every touch, and every pump of his fingers inside my sopping hole spoke more than words possibly could.

“m’gonna cum~”i grunted softly, my hips bucking onto his fingers, my back slightly arching off the bed, spit was dripping down my mouth. The scene unfolded like a cliché scenario from a porn movie, akin to something you might find on a Blockbuster rental shelf—undeniably sensual and provocative. He felt your pussy clamp around his fingers as you reached the peak of pleasure.

He rode the wave with you, relishing every tremble until it slowly subsided. His eyes roved over your flushed and sweat-drenched body, making him even harder “That's it baby, cum for me." his fingers kept pumping inside of me as I milked my orgasm, my whole body shook in pleasure, soft gasps leaving my body “f-fuck…” I muttered, my chest rising up and down softly as I came down from the high of the wrecking orgasm.

He pulled his fingers out slowly, coating them with your arousal. He brought them up to his mask and breathed in deeply, savoring your scent before trailing them over your sensitive clit “You're delicious, baby."

A loud moan involuntarily escaped my mouth in response to the unexpected slap across my drenched cunt. "O-ow!" I exclaimed, the sting resonating with a mixture of surprise and discomfort.

The Ghostface's wicked laughter echoed, a chilling soundtrack to my discomfort. "You wanted it, now take it like a good girl," his words, laced with dominance, hung in the air, adding a layer of intensity to the unfolding scene. "Why are you leaving?" I questioned, the vulnerability in my voice evident, as he stood up from the bed and adjusted his robe. My gaze followed him as he walked towards the window. A smile played on his lips, but you couldn’t see it. He looked down at me over his shoulder. "I'll see you soon. Don't forget our little secret," he whispered before vanishing from sight.

Left in his wake, a mix of arousal and puzzlement lingered, the room now filled with the aftermath of an enigmatic encounter.

Confusion swept over me, grappling with the surreal reality of the town's masked murderer appearing in my room, fingering me, and then abruptly vanishing as if nothing. The experience felt terrifyingly unbelievable, leaving me bewildered in its wake.

[kanerallels]

This is a day late, but I have a short little thing for @chenford-prompts 2 Weeks of Chenford! Prompt: Miles Apart

(I'm not gonna lie to y'all, this is inspired by a plot line in Chicago PD that I hated with a fiery passion, so I decided to fix it and add some Chenford, as a treat! It's more alluded to than anything else, and the timelines don't really work out, but I don't really care. OH also I may have. Replaced Bailey and Nolan's wedding with Abigail and Henry's in this. Because I don't really care for Bailan, but that's just my opinion!)

“I still can’t believe you arrested someone while you were on vacation in New York,” Lucy said, her voice echoing and staticy through the phone’s speaker. “You're officially worse than Nolan.”

Tim rolled his eyes, shifting his position in his seat. He was sitting in the waiting room of a precinct in Brooklyn, waiting for detectives to come and take his statement. “Okay, no one’s worse than Nolan. He went after a drug ring at his son’s wedding.”

“True,” Lucy conceded. “But you’re on vacation, miles away from home, and you just happened to spot a kidnapper?”

“They don’t give sergeant positions to just anyone, you know,” Tim pointed out wryly.

He heard her snort on the other end. “No, apparently just to people who hit criminal’s cars with their cars to stop them.”

“Okay that one I did steal from Nolan,” Tim admitted. “But it worked. Got him out of the car and away from the girl he grabbed.”

“She must have been terrified.” Lucy’s voice was soft with empathy, and Tim felt a pang go through his chest.

“Yeah,” he said. “She’s tough, though. She’ll be okay.” 

What he didn’t tell her was how familiar it felt when he pulled the young woman, tied up and terrified, out of the back of the car. Suddenly he was lifting Lucy out of the barrel in the desert, holding her as she sobbed.

The tears in the young woman’s eyes— Nadia, from Chicago. Not much older than Nolan’s rookie, with a checkered past, but a fierce determination that Tim recognized easily— had reminded him of Lucy’s. It had been heart-wrenching.

“Hey.” Lucy’s voice on the other end jolted him out of his thoughts. “You saved her. You stopped the bad guy and you saved that girl from her worst nightmare. I’m proud of you.”

Tim let out a soft laugh. “Thanks, Lucy.”

“Of course.” She paused, then asked, “How long are you going to be gone again?”

Letting out a sigh, Tim leaned back in his seat, switching his phone to his other ear. “A couple more days. Technically I’m out here to visit a friend, but there’s also this case to help wrap up. And I want to keep an eye on Nadia until her friends come to pick her up. Apparently she knows people in the CPD who are on their way.”

“Good— I’m glad you’ll be there for her.”

That was Lucy. Always focused on someone else. But Tim could hear what she wasn’t saying, and for once he let himself say it. “I miss you.”

He could almost see her smile as she said, “I miss you, too.”

Glancing up, Tim saw a familiar, leather jacket-clad figure heading towards him. “I gotta go— Detective Peralta is back. Talk to you later?”

“Okay, I should go, too. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

As Tim hung up the phone, Detective Peralta, who was standing in front of him, wiggled his eyebrows at him. “Already at the I love you part in your relationship, huh? Very noice.”

Rolling his eyes, Tim said, “Let’s just get on with the statement, okay?”

“Yeah, I sound like Boyle. Let’s stick with I’m happy for you. Now, right this way, Sergeant.”

Tim shook his head as he followed the other man. But he couldn’t quite hold back the smile on his face.Only a few more days here. Then I’ll go home to Lucy. And that was the best thought of all.

[mel0809]

Early Mornings

Pairings:

Jay Halstead x Ella Bennett (original character)

Jay Halstead, a seasoned detective from the Chicago PD, found himself entangled in a passionate romance with his girlfriend, Ella. Ella, a stunning 21-year-old woman, possessed a beauty that captivated everyone she encountered. However, it was not just her looks that drew Jay to her; Ella's genius-level IQ and her remarkable skills as an FBI agent also piqued his interest.

Ella was a force of constant motion, perpetually on the move and finding it difficult to focus on just one thing. Jay understood the challenges she faced and made it a point to keep a watchful eye on her, particularly during their undercover assignments. He recognized her as the top undercover agent on her team, and her connections within the agency made her a formidable ally. Furthermore, her mastery of hand-to-hand combat, utilizing pressure points to disable her opponents, only added to her impressive skill set.

Jay's protective instincts were heightened due to Ella's youthful beauty and her vulnerability. He understood that others might be drawn to her, and he was determined to shield her from any harm. Ella's intelligence propelled her thoughts at lightning speed, her mind constantly racing with a thousand ideas. Jay was always there to accompany her on runs when she couldn't sit still, providing a physical outlet for her restless energy.

One bright morning, as the sunbeams filtered through the curtains, Jay and Ella woke up entangled in each other's arms. Ella, full of energy, began wiggling playfully, eliciting a smile from Jay. He couldn't resist the opportunity to hold her still and engage in a playful moment with her. As his hands found her waist, a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, ready to engage in some light-hearted banter.

However, their playful interlude was abruptly interrupted by a series of knocks on Jay's apartment door. Ella's curiosity got the best of her, and she broke free from Jay's grasp, heading to answer the door. Jay's disappointment quickly turned into a pang of jealous panic as he realized Ella was not properly dressed to face whoever was on the other side.

His protective instincts kicked into overdrive, and he hurriedly tried to find a solution. Grabbing a shirt from his closet, Jay tossed it to Ella, urging her to quickly put it on to cover herself. His heart raced as he anxiously waited for her to answer the door, his mind racing with thoughts of potential threats or unwanted attention.

Ella, oblivious to Jay's internal turmoil, opened the door with a friendly smile, unaware of the effect she had on others.

It turned out to be a delivery person with a package, and she accepted it graciously. As she closed the door, Ella turned back to Jay, her eyes sparkling with innocence and unawareness of his momentary panic.

Jay, now relieved that the situation had passed without incident, took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. He realized that Ella's naivety and genuine nature were part of her charm, even though it sometimes triggered his protective instincts.

With a swift motion, Jay pounced onto the bed, pulling Ella into his embrace. She giggled, her laughter filling the room with joy and lightness. Jay's hands roamed playfully over her sides, tickling her ever so slightly. Ella squirmed in his hold, her movements a delightful dance that only fueled Jay's playful nature.

Their laughter intertwined, creating a symphony of happiness that resonated within the walls of the bedroom. Ella's infectious energy was contagious, and Jay found himself immersed in the moment, forgetting any worries or stress that may have plagued him earlier.

Ella crawled towards Jay with a playful smirk on her face, her body moving in a way that made his pulse quicken. She straddled him, leaning in closer, their faces mere inches apart. Jay's hands instinctively found their way to her hips, his touch both firm and gentle.

"You're quite the tease, aren't you?" Jay whispered, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. Ella's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in to capture his lips in a playful kiss, their mouths moving in sync.

Their bodies pressed against each other, a delicious friction building between them. Jay's hands roamed freely over Ella's back, his touch leaving a trail of warmth and tingles in its wake. Ella responded by deepening the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

The playful banter continued as their bodies intertwined, shifting and rolling with a playful grace. Ella's laughter filled the room, a melody that blended with Jay's low chuckles. They lost themselves in the moment, exploring each other's bodies with a delightful combination of curiosity and desire.

Ella's dancer's grace came into play as she moved fluidly atop Jay, her body swaying to a rhythm only they could hear. Her movements were a dance of seduction, captivating Jay's attention completely. He marveled at her beauty and the way she effortlessly commanded his desire.

Their playful touches and whispered words of affection echoed throughout the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that was uniquely theirs. Jay's love language of physical touch was on full display as he caressed every inch of Ella's body, his fingers tracing patterns of pleasure along her skin.

As their playful exploration reached its peak, their laughter mingled with breathless moans, and their playful gestures evolved into an intoxicating passion. Their bodies moved together in a synchronized dance, their connection both intense and tender.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the moment, their playful encounter evolving into an intimate expression of love and desire. They reveled in the pleasure they brought each other, the playful playfulness giving way to a deeper connection.

Afterwards, as they lay intertwined, their bodies still humming with satisfaction, Jay held Ella close, his touch conveying a mix of tenderness and adoration. Their playful escapade had brought them even closer, reinforcing the strength of their bond.

[felicitysmoaksx]

Hi, Everyone! So I thought this story was done. But turns out it wasn't. So here we go. Song recs for this chapter: I Didn't Know by Sofia Carson & All of The Girls You Loved Before and Cruel Summer both by Taylor Swift If you want to know where this is in the Chicago PD Timeline: Season 3: in between episodes 3: Actual Physical Violence & 4: Debts of the Past. There might also be another chapter in the future, but I make no promises. (Did I also mention I might have another soulmate au and a Cop!Sarah au because of this universe) Happy Reading!

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI 18+)

Summary:   Following a car explosion, Erin and Sarah finally have a heart-to-heart about Charlie, and Erin learns about Sarah's new-ish relationship with Connor.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: Implied Car Explosion, implied Sexual Content, Depictions of parental abandonment, depictions of violence, inaccurate medical procedures

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist | Fic Playlist but Less Shippy | Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

A hand danced up his back as he was putting up his stuff in the doctor’s lounge. Connor turned his head to see that it was Sarah as she passed him to get a cup of coffee. He was working nights this month so Dr. Fri could take his paternity leave with his wife and spend time with their new baby. The whole of the ED staff was pitching in. Connor just so happened to draw the short straw first. 

“Rough day?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at the sight of his girlfriend inhaling her coffee. He wasn’t even sure she was tasting it with the speed she was drinking it. 

“Long day. Dr. Choi and Dr. Charles pulled me off of psych and put me in the ED today.” She told him tiredly, “So guess who also got pulled into doing most of the psych consults, in addition to treating in a non-psychiatric way?” 

She pointed to herself in response to her rhetorical question. 

“Why’d they pull you? Who called in?” 

“No one, I asked to be down here for the next few weeks. Because I’ve gotten sloppy with emergency medicine in the time I’ve been a psych resident. And sloppiness is dangerous.”

“Babe, we’ve been over this, you can’t measure anything by that day. We were all nervous and stressed,” He told her patiently for what seemed like the millionth time in the last month. Since that day with David and Lily…But his perfectionist girlfriend rolled her eyes at him and took another large pull of her coffee. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that I was sloppy and that I need practice to correct that. I’m better than sloppy.” Like usual Sarah fell into her side of their bickering. 

Connor always had some idea that Sarah was a little bit of a perfectionist. He could see that from his first day after he saw her in the training room when she hadn’t been able to set the groin line. But dating the brunette both unofficially and now officially had shown him just how much making mistakes affected her. Other people could make mistakes and it was okay. Things happened, but not Sarah. She held herself to a much higher standard than she did everyone else. 

Knowing that fact, Connor let the subject drop before it could balloon up into an argument. He did not want to repeat that argument with her. 

Instead, because they were alone, (Though their relationship wasn’t confined to just his apartment anymore, neither was much for PDA outside of pecks and hand-holding in public) he made his way across the lounge and kissed his girlfriend’s lips. The smile that split her lips was genuine but had an exhausted tilt to it.

 Connor felt a pang of sympathy swell in him. The ED was always busy more or less, but this last month and a half had been nothing short of horrific. The David situation notwithstanding. They had their usual fluctuation of patients and cases.  But this last month and a half, it was as if people had hit their heads and lost their common sense. 

“You want the spare key to my apartment? My new mattress was delivered this morning.” He offered to her in a whisper, nosing his way down her neck, while he gripped her waist and pulled her closer.  Sarah laughed at the sensation while she squirmed. But instead of trying to push him away, the brunette tried to press herself closer to him. With him working nights this month, they had been two ships passing each other over these last two weeks. Which left little time for them together, save for a day or two during the week when one of them had the day off. 

“I have this new vintage red wine in my wine cabinet that my sister sent along for you too,” He told her then added how his sister was always more of a white wine person than a red. Then he noticed her look of confusion, “What?”

“You said your sister sent along red wine for me,” she told him as if it was obvious, “Your sister doesn’t even know me.”

The surgeon chuckled, “She knows of you. You texted me about that movie you had been wanting to see last week when I was at breakfast with her…” His ears turned pink as he gave her a guilty grin, “And besides the fact that my Dad already kind of told her about us when he was recovering from his surgery…I was grinning a little too much at my phone.” 

Sarah giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. She drawled in a slow and flirty tone, “Why Dr. Rhodes, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.” 

That voice always sent a thrill through him. He nipped her ear before he warned in a low tone of voice, “Don’t you call me Dr. Rhodes in that tone at the hospital.”

His girlfriend merely grinned at him. (A little too evilly in his opinion. Yeah, she definitely knew what that voice did to him. Just like she knew what she was doing when she batted her eyes at him.) Then she leaned in and pecked his lips. She let out a soft sigh, “I couldn’t take your key tonight though. I have that family dinner. Justin, Olive, and the baby are coming into town and Justin wants a family dinner with everyone. Really, I just think it’s a way to get me to talk to Hank and Erin.”

Connor hummed sympathetically because he could understand a meddling sibling. Claire was still trying to fix his and their father’s issues. “When was the last time you talked to one of them?”

“A month?” Sarah guessed, “And it’s not that I don’t want to talk to them. But I don’t know how to deal with the Charlie subject. He’s always been a more touchy subject for Erin. For good reason, but it’s always harder to bring it up and I’m worried that once I start talking to her, I won’t handle it well. And Hank is a whole other story.”

Connor didn’t know everything about Sarah’s history with Charlie Pugliese but he knew enough. Enough to make his blood boil at what he did know, but Sarah didn’t need his anger right now. Right now, she needed his support.

She pulled away from him with another sigh, “I better get back. I just stepped in here for some coffee. And you have your own shift to get to.”

“Yeah,” Connor said, even as he reached into the pocket of the jeans he had on and grabbed his spare key from his key ring to place in Sarah’s hand. His lover looked up at him, “I told you I can’t because of my family dinner tonight.”

The surgeon shrugged as he dropped a kiss on her head, making his way to the dressing room. “The option’s there if you want it after your dinner.”

Connor’s back was turned so he didn’t see the soft look in Sarah’s eyes as he left when she gazed at his back. She always looked at him with soft eyes when he did things like that. Things that didn’t seem like a big deal to him, but they always left the curly-haired brunette feeling soft and gooey inside.  When she tried to bring it up to him though, her dark-haired lover merely huffed and shook his head. All the while he mumbled the familiar phrase of, “The difference between boys and men.” 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

A few hours later, Sarah and Connor were back in the doctor’s lounge. Only Sarah was getting ready to leave for the night and Connor was pouring his second cup of coffee.

“You headed out?” Connor asked, when he saw his lover grab her backpack. Nodding her head, she closed her locker and made her way over to him. Then she pressed a kiss to his beard-covered cheek. “Justin said he, Olive, and the baby were visiting Hank and Erin at the district today. So they said they could pick me up after my shift.” 

Her phone chimed from where it was in her back pocket. Connor pressed one last kiss to her forehead as she looked at the device. From where he stood over her, he could make out the name of the person on the phone. It was Justin Voight. He twirled a stray curl around his finger to get her attention. Soft brown eyes peered up at him. “Text me when you get home? Whether or not that be your apartment or mine.”

“Have a good rest of your shift. Maybe it’ll be an easy night.” Sarah nodded at his request before she gave him a little grin. And then darted just out of his reach when he tried to tickle her side in retaliation for jinxing him. Then she shot him one more smile before she turned and made her way out of the hospital. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“So you didn’t go visit Hank and Erin at the district?” Sarah wondered, looking first from her best friend before turning in her seat to look at his wife. 

“He said he didn’t want us to.” Olive shrugged from the backseat. Then smiled down at her son as he cooed. Justin continued, “Said a case popped off? It wasn’t the right time. Said he just see us for dinner. He sounded weird. ” 

“He always sounds weird when he’s working a case. Erin too.” Sarah told her pseudo-brother and sister-in-law. “They just don’t want us to worry.” 

“Yeah,” Justin sighed, getting into the turn lane to go to Hank’s house, “But we worry anyways, especially when Dad tries to keep us away these days. He never turns down the chance to see Danny...”

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

When Erin and Hank finally made their way home that night, both her pseudo-sister and father were quiet, and neither wanted to talk about their day. 

“Just a hard case,” Sarah heard Hank reassure Justin as they walked to the car. Her pseudo-sister hummed in agreement from where she was walking with Olive. “Nothing dinner with my family won’t cure.”

Sarah heard Justin chuckle, before he explained that after dinner, he and Sarah were going to leave Erin and Hank with Olive and the baby so they could meet up with Tucker and a few other old friends. The curly-haired brunette felt herself sigh inwardly as she grabbed her door handle waiting for the car to be unlocked. She had forgotten about those plans. If she didn’t talk to both Hank and Erin tonight, then she was in for a long talk with Justin about it.

Her heart clenched tighter when Hank caught her eye and smiled at her over the car’s hood. It was a wan smile. Not like his usual warm and genuine one. He unlocked the door and a buzzing immediately filled her ears. 

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!” Her pseudo-father shouted just before the car exploded and erupted in flames.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Sarah flinched back as the compress touched her skin, hissing at the persistent sting that ached from her burns. Erin was at another treatment bay, getting treated not for burns, but abrasions to her skin and a possible concussion. Olive, Justin, and the baby were in the PICU because they wanted to make sure the baby was alright. And Hank, after he waved off getting checked out, was being a pinball between all of three of his children, bouncing between Sarah in a trauma bay, (For her second-degree burns) Erin in a treatment room, and the PICU upstairs.

“Sorry Dr. Reese,” Dr. Matthews muttered to her, sounding annoyed. She grimaced when he couldn’t see her face. It would just make things worse for her. She had nothing against Dr. Matthews as a person. But the man was older and about a month away from retirement and at this point in his career, he was just phoning it in. Everyone in the hospital knew that. 

Oh, he knew his stuff, but the way he came at everything now was with the demeanor an elderly man who thought everyone under the age of fifty was too soft. Everyone was being coddled. (He also thought psychiatry was more or less a waste. You get the picture.) He had already been barred from treating kids because of his bedside manner and how much it upset the patient and the parents alike. 

Hank was no different, it seemed. When he saw her wince, he pushed himself off of where he was leaning against the wall of the trauma bay. Then he left quietly, returning a moment later with Maggie in tow. 

“I can finish this if you want to go take a breather, Dr. Matthews,” she told the doctor. Dr. Matthews took a step back, and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like, ‘About damn time.’ 

“How dare a doctor actually do their job,” Sarah said in a sarcastic tone, after he left. Maggie huffed a quiet laugh.

“Do you want to lay down on your stomach? And you can rest while we let the cool compresses do their thing?” Maggie offered in a soft voice after she heard Sarah yawn. The brunette looked at her pseudo-father, “Go check on Justin, Olive, and the baby. Or Erin. Let me know how they’re doing. I’m okay for right now.” 

“We still need to talk,” he said, pinning her with a serious look. One that reminded her of all the times she got in trouble as a kid. Sarah huffed a sigh, but she knew Hank was right. It wasn’t like them to go this long without talking to each other. That’s why Justin had taken it upon himself to meddle. 

“We will,” she promised him, “Just preferably, after I’ve had my twenty-minute power nap.”

Hank moved forward and pressed his lips to the top of her head. Then he conceded with a sigh. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” 

“Hank,” she called to him after he had turned around and was walking out of the trauma bay. He glanced over his shoulder at her. 

“Thank you.” She told him in a soft voice. 

“For what?” Sarah shrugged at his confused question. Then winced as the burns on her back twinged in pain. Still, she managed a smile for him, “Nothing? Everything? Something in between? I may not know all that you did, but I know you and Camille sacrificed a lot for me and Erin when you took us in.” 

“And we would’ve done it again, kid.”

“Are you sure? Because I remember what we were like…and we were all hellions. Justin included. Erin and I only added to your already full hands.” She joked weakly. Yet her pseudo-father never wavered or even cracked a smile at her joke as he said in a quiet, serious voice, “We would’ve. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.” 

Then nodding once at Maggie, he walked out of the trauma bay as quietly as he brought the charge nurse into it. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“You as a hellion? I can’t imagine that.” Maggie’s quiet chuckle filled her ears as she helped Sarah lay down on her stomach. The change made her hiss as the persistent sting intensified. Then it was back to a dull throb as the compresses were replaced on her back.

“You didn’t know me back then. The girl that was too angry at the world to really care about anything.”

“I can’t even imagine you ever being that angry. Need anything else?” Sarah shook her head, before she changed her mind. “Maybe a smoothie? I didn’t get to eat dinner because of what happened.”

“And you didn’t get to eat lunch because we had that awful pile up to deal with.” Sarah nodded even though Maggie wasn’t asking a question. 

“Anything else?” Her friend asked, covering her upper body even more with the hospital blanket. The brunette shot the nurse a grateful smile. Even though no one could see anything because she was on her stomach and her hospital gown loosely on the front of her body, she had felt entirely too exposed with the way they had the back of her gown open, but Sarah knew it had been a necessary evil to treat her burns. 

“Nothing that you can help me with right now. I just want my pillow but I don’t think he’s anywhere close at the moment because he would’ve been at least by here already…”

A smile tugged at Maggie’s lips. Sarah didn’t mention any names, but the charge nurse had a pretty good idea who the brunette was talking about. A certain surgeon with blue eyes.

“He got pulled into surgery upstairs, but I can try to catch him when he’s out?” Maggie offered. Curls bounced slightly as Sarah shook her head. “No, it’s okay. He has his shift to worry about. He doesn’t need me to add to his plate right now.”

Maggie had a strong feeling Connor would disagree with his girlfriend. But the charge nurse left it alone for the moment and left Reese with, “I’ll go order your smoothie and I’ll be back to check on you in a little while. But if you need me, you yell before that. Okay?” 

“Thanks, Mags.” With a nod of acknowledgment from the female psychiatrist, Maggie left. And Sarah let her eyes fall shut as she willed her body to relax as much as it could against the dull throb of her burns.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Erin found her sister in a trauma bay, after her doctor told her he’d be back in a while to check on her. It was nothing major, just a few scrapes and bruises. She only got checked out because she hit her head and her family was worried about her having a concussion.  (Her little sister who had second-degree burns and was actually injured was worried about her. She was the big sister. She was meant to be looking out for Sarah, not the other way around.) 

But so far there was no sign of one and Erin snuck out as soon as the doctor had his back turned.  

“Hey,” Erin whispered softly to the prone form on the hospital gurney. Sarah’s head popped up before she turned it so she could glance over her shoulder. 

“Hey, you okay? No concussion?” Her little sister asked as Erin padded farther into the trauma bay.

“You’re the one with second-degree burns and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” Erin asked and the curly-haired brunette smirked at her. 

“It’s like Hank said. You’re a police detective. Your job is to look in people’s eyes for a living. I’m a doctor. It’s my job to ask people if they’re okay for a living.”

The older woman felt a chuckle bubble out of her mouth as she shook her head at her sister. “Well, I’m okay. No concussion. Just a few bumps, scrapes, and bruises.”

Her sister shot her a tired smile in response. Then her eyes slid shut as the conversation stilled and dropped off. Erin cleared her throat and Sarah opened her eyes, blinking glassy-eyed at her. 

“I feel like we need to talk.” Erin started hesitantly, because she knew it probably wasn’t the right time. Her little sister was tired and in pain. But it was a time that Sarah was more or less stuck and couldn’t make up an excuse to run away. Like she had been doing for the last month, begging off any chance they had to talk. When the curly-haired brunette remained silent, the police detective continued: “Lately, I’ve just kind of felt like we’ve been hitting a wall with each other. We haven’t talked in a month and it seems like that’s intentional. Almost like you’ve been avoiding me and Hank?” 

“This is a very weak interrogation,” Sarah commented with a raised eyebrow. Erin felt her lips tug themselves into a smirk as she folded her arms. 

“Maybe I’m trying the good cop strategy,” she shrugged. Her sister yawned before she smiled sleepily. 

“Maybe try that on someone who hasn’t known you for the last twenty-two years.”

And Sarah was deflecting. She wasn’t confirming anything Erin was saying, but she also wasn’t denying it either. 

“Answer my question, Sarah. Why have you been avoiding me and Hank since last month?” Erin asked as if she were questioning a suspect. But there wasn’t as much force in her voice as there would’ve been with a normal perp. 

“I haven’t been avoiding you. I’m just not sure how to talk to you about Charlie.” Erin didn’t bother to ask who the younger woman was talking about. If it was any other Charlie, Sarah would have mentioned a last name as well. Erin swallowed. “What about him?” 

“Maybe that he’s in jail?” A humorless laugh fell from Sarah’s lips at the guilt that swept over Erin’s face. “Yeah, and I also know that he’s in the state of Illinois because he was in the ED with Travis and me last month with a kidney laceration.”

Big sister looked at little sister. The older of the two felt her mouth drop open. No words seem to be able to come out. But Sarah wasn’t finished, “Yeah, he saved me from being trampled more than I already was when the crowd of people were running for the exits.” 

“Sarah-” Erin started, but she trailed off when she realized she was unsure of what to say next.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Did you just not trust me?”  Sarah questioned. Her pseudo-sister was quick to shake her head. She closed the little distance between them and the older woman grabbed her hand, squeezing it. 

“No, Sarah-I trust you. But I also know that your mind is a little muddled when it comes to Charlie. You didn’t have the same history with him that Annie and I do.” Erin explained. Because her pseudo-sister had protected her from that. Once Charlie taught Sarah how to pickpocket…it spurred the big sister into action because she wasn’t willing to roll that particular dice with Sarah. 

“You know when I made my deal with Hank, when I told him that we wouldn’t be separated or there would be no deal…I told him you wouldn’t survive without me. And at the time, I believed it. I was the one taking care of you. I was the one making sure you had food, clothes, and a bed to sleep in.  I was the one tucking you in and holding you when you had nightmares at night. I was your constant.”

Erin broke off with a sigh, looking down at her hands. She had started to pick at her hangnails. If she let this go on for much longer her thumbs would surely be bloody and scabbed. She hid her thumbs by making fists. The detective looked back up at Sarah to find the other brunette watching her. 

She cleared her throat as she addressed Sarah again, “But as I get older, I wonder if it was more the other way around. As far as we knew Teddy was gone. He wasn’t coming back and Bunny was well, being Bunny. Bouncing in and out, you remember. You were the one thing I had to hold on to when things were constantly changing. And maybe protecting you was a way to protect me too. I wouldn’t have survived without you.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me he was here,” Sarah pointed out in a quiet voice, feeling herself getting soft at Erin’s confession. Then she watched as her pseudo-sister blew out a breath.

“Because when he came back, he was back to his old ways. He hadn’t changed. He gave Annie a busted lip and he conned me into almost helping him because he was blackmailing Annie and me. I didn’t want you to be pulled into that. Not if I could help it.” 

Sarah’s mouth fell open, but no words would come out. Because she understood- though misguided- Erin’s attempt to protect her. But it didn’t eliminate the hurt she felt completely. So with that thought, she closed her mouth and nodded her head once. 

In a quiet voice, she pressed, “What happened? With the blackmail I mean? Why did he end up in jail?” 

Her pseudo-sister looked uncomfortable as she rubbed her hands together. Then she shrugged stiffly, “I called his bluff and won.” 

That wasn’t the full story. Sarah could just tell from Erin’s body language that she wasn’t getting the full story. “Tell me everything later?”

When there weren’t any ears around them.

Erin nodded and Sarah felt a small smile bloom across her lips. Her sister returned it. Despite the ache in her back, she felt lighter than she had all month. (She didn’t know it, but so did Erin.)

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Maggie came back with her smoothie ten minutes later. The charge nurse sighed when she saw Erin sitting beside her through, “Didn’t see your discharge papers come up yet Detective?” 

“I got lost on the way to the bathrooms? Thought Sarah might know where they are.” Sarah’s pseudo-sister grinned sheepishly, knowing that she had been caught.

“Uh huh,” Maggie said sarcastically as she rotated the compresses on Sarah’s back, “I’m sure you did with the ED being so big and all.”

“Exactly,” 

“Just be back in your room before your doctor comes looking for you, please.” Maggie told her then looked at the curly-haired brunette. “I was just told Connor should be done with surgery soon and Dr. Cardone is here early because of a patient and he was Connor’s relief, so he’ll be able to go home early too.”

Sarah hummed and avoided Erin’s suspicious eyes as they turned on her as Maggie continued, “You sure you don’t want me to get him when he’s out?”

She didn’t want to bother him. She wasn’t the kind of girl that needed her boyfriend for every little thing. She wasn’t clingy. Sarah never allowed herself to be because of how many people had let her down in the past. It was scary to depend on someone and them not be there (like her dad) so Sarah never let herself be put in that position in the first place.

And yet, she found herself nodding, instead of shaking her head no. (Her back ached anytime she moved and honestly, she just wanted Connor’s arms around her. His warm citrus smell wrapping itself like a blanket around her)  Thankfully, her friend didn’t tease her about her indecisiveness as she readjusted Sarah’s blanket. 

“You have ten minutes left with your compresses. Then-”

“Then the real fun begins.” Sarah quipped with an equally sarcastic smile. Maggie huffed a laugh as she corrected sympathetically, “Then we’ll clean the burns with soap and water so we can bandage them.”

It was only when the charge nurse was gone with another promise to be back, that Erin raised an inquiring eyebrow at her pseudo-little sister. 

“Do you want to share with the class?” 

“Share what?” Erin felt her other eyebrows raise knowing that the curly-haired brunette was playing dumb. She cocked her head to the side slowly, as if sizing her little sister up. 

“Why did Maggie ask if you wanted Dr. Rhodes? I think that’s who she was talking about. His first name is Connor right?”  

Chewing at her bottom lip like she did when she was a kid and was feeling guilty about something, Sarah nodded her head. Then she admitted to Erin in an almost shy voice, “He’s my boyfriend? We’ve been dating for the last four or so months? Give or take a month?”  

Erin blinked. Usually, the curly-haired brunette was so obvious when she was in a new relationship. “Four months? You’ve been seeing him for four months?”

Sarah’s sheepish smile was the only answer Erin got in return for her question. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Connor, wait!” Connor almost sagged in defeat when he heard Maggie calling him back just before he hit the doctor’s lounge to get his stuff. He only worked half a shift, but it was another horrific one, as it had been for the last month and a half. Back-to-back surgeries between trauma and CT because all of the other CT surgeons (he was in trauma tonight for the record) were stuck in more complicated procedures and a patient had been pronounced just before they could receive a new heart. Still, he heaved a sigh, grabbing another set of gloves as he turned back to his friend. 

The life of ED doc. “Where am I headed, Maggie?”

“Trauma 2. But it’s not like that.” The charge nurse waved her hand at his gloved ones. “I’m treating her or if you want to get technical, Dr. Matthews is. But you’re not allowed to.” Maggie explained as he made his way to her. 

“What do you mean I’m not allowed to?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t think it was Claire. If it was, someone would’ve pulled him out of surgery immediately. Or at least notified him. Maggie would’ve made sure of it.

Which left Sarah, and come to think of it; he hadn’t heard from her yet tonight. Even though she rolled her eyes at his protectiveness (“I’m a cop’s daughter Connor. A very well-known cop in this city at that. I know no one is one-hundred percent safe. But I’m probably safer than most people in Chicago.”) she usually messaged him when she made it home, if nothing else because she knew it made him feel better.

“Sergeant Voight’s car exploded,” Maggie explained, falling into step beside him with a bucket of what looked like soapy water. Connor felt his eyes widen at the news. The charge nurse nodded as she continued. “I overheard Voight talking on the phone when he was down here with Sarah. He thinks someone rigged it.”

“How bad?” He asked, switching between boyfriend to doctor mode as easily as drawing a breath. 

“Sarah has a few second-degree burns on her back, but right now it seems like she’s the only one that got hurt. Though Detective Lindsay is being monitored for a possible concussion. But so far there’s no signs of one. And Voight’s grandson is up in the PICU getting some tests done. But that’s just as a precaution. He seems okay.  Everyone else is okay too.” His friend explained. Then she pulled back the privacy curtain to the trauma bay. 

Sarah’s head turned at the noise. Her eyes met his. Inhale. Not a doctor. Exhale. Boyfriend. Connor reminded himself, making his way over to her. 

“Hey,” He said softly, before she started to sit up. He reached for her arm and tried to help ease her up when he saw pain flittering across her face. “Here, let me help.” 

A lingering kiss was pressed to her forehead when her arms wrapped around his waist. Second-degree burns were serious and Connor knew that, but his girl must really be hurting. Because while the woman in his arms was affectionate in private with a more subdued version of that affection in public, she didn’t usually cling to him like this in public like she was doing now. With her face nuzzling in his scrubs. 

He pressed another kiss to her forehead. His hands itched to touch the skin of her back. To soothe it by scratching her back or something like that. But looking down at the blistering and bloody skin, he resisted the urge and instead cupped the back of her head. Cradling her to him as best as he could right now.

“Okay, Sarah. I’m going to start cleaning the burns now.” Maggie said, dipping a washcloth in the water. Then she started cleaning the burns carefully. 

She tried to muffle it by biting her lip, but Connor heard her pained whimper. Maggie did too by the way she frowned and kept saying. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know this hurts. I’m so sorry, Sarah.” 

By her third pained whimper, tears had started to fall from those chocolatey brown orbs and was flinching with every swipe of the cloth. Maggie stopped with a slight sigh. “I’ll go talk to Dr. Matthews. See if we can give you some stronger pain meds than Tylenol.” 

Just Tylenol? Just the over-the-counter stuff? No. Hell, no. Second-degree burns required at least Tylenol Two. Inhale. Doctor. Exhale. Not a boyfriend. Connor gritted his teeth as he told the nurse, “Maggie, push a dose of Tylenol Two.”

Dr. Matthews was a tired old crank who was counting down the days till his retirement. Everyone knew that. His bedside was less than lacking these days. It wasn’t there at all. Meaning he didn’t dole out pain medication like he should. Because every patient was too soft for their own good. 

“Connor, you’re not a doctor right now. Especially not hers. Look, I'll go ask Dr. Matthews-” Maggie started with an exasperated sigh as she started to break away. But the surgeon shook his head. (His stubbornly independent woman wasn’t even trying to fight him about this. Warning bells had started to ring in his head.) 

“Maggie, we both know that Matthews won’t do a damn thing. He’ll be too busy being cranky because you woke him up and he won’t actually care about what’s going on. Or what you’re asking him.” Connor told the nurse gruffly, thinking of how he saw the older man in the on-call room. “And, if Matthews wanted to actually participate in his case, he wouldn’t have left you to treat her, now would he?”  

Maggie opened her mouth and closed it. Not refuting the statement. Instead, she sighed and pointed out, “But Connor, it’s Sarah. You know you can’t-”

“Maggie, she hasn’t said a word in this whole argument. That is not like her. At all. You know that and I know that. Push the dose.” 

The charge nurse glanced down at her friend. Because Connor was right. Sarah hadn’t spoken at all. She must’ve been in that much pain because once again Connor was right. It wasn’t like the brunette to not speak, especially about her care. 

Maggie pushed the dose, but she sighed and told him, “Goodwin will-”

“I’ll sign the order. I’ll take the hit. This won’t come back on you. Goodwin will know that this is my doing.” Connor cut her off. Because right now, Sarah was still not talking but had also begun to shiver his arms. (The warning bells got worse.) He pressed in closer to her, trying to give her some of his body heat. The nurse rolled her eyes, “And Goodwin knows better than anyone I can handle a pushy doctor.”

“Sarah, we’ll give the pain meds a minute to work through your system. Then we’ll finish cleaning your burns, okay?” She addressed Sarah a moment later, rubbing a soothing hand on her shoulder. The brunette nodded her head. 

“Mags, while we’re waiting, would you mind calling up to the PICU for me?” She asked in a whisper.

“I’ll go do it right now.” 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“You shouldn’t have done that. Goodwin is going to ream your neck for what you did.” The brunette beauty in his arms told him when they were alone. But there wasn’t any force in her words, no heat in her scolding. Inhale. Boyfriend. Exhale. Not a doctor. Connor pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re in pain and the standard of care is Tylenol Two for second-degree burns. And besides that, you didn’t fight me on it.” 

Sarah pressed her face more into his neck and inhaled deeply. Her arms tightened around his waist feebly. “I don’t have the energy to fight you on it. I’m running on fumes right now.” 

Connor pressed another kiss to her forehead. “So does that mean you’ll let me take care of you?” 

“You mean coddle?” 

“Baby, letting someone help you isn’t coddling.” He told her in a quiet serious voice, using the pet name, which usually made her melt. His stubbornly independent girlfriend made a sound somewhere between a whine and a hum. 

“To-mate-o. To-mot-to.” She mumbled into his shoulder and he rolled his eyes fondly. But a beat later Sarah was mumbling, “…But I really hurt right now, so I wouldn’t say no to some coddling.” 

He chuckled softly at her antics, pressing his forehead to her curls as Maggie came back. She reassured the brunette, “Your nephew is still doing fine. I think Ricki said your brother is on his way down here to check on you and Erin though.”

“What happened to Hank?” 

“I’m not sure.” Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Maggie shrug as she moved in closer.  “Are you ready to try this again, Reese?”

The brunette winced, but she nodded and pressed her face into her boyfriend’s neck once more. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] 

With her burns now washed and the affected areas covered in bandages, Sarah yawned sleepily as she leaned heavily against Connor. Almost asleep against his chest. She was already tired when she came into the ED. The Tylenol Two was making her drowsy and the adrenaline wearing off was making it even more difficult to stay awake. 

“You won’t be able to sleep on your back for the next two weeks. At least. Maybe three.” Maggie was explaining even though Sarah knew this already. She told the charge nurse as much. 

“What did she say?” Maggie chuckled softly. Connor dropped another kiss on her head with a chuckle of his own, “It’s not a worry for her because she doesn’t sleep on her back. At all if she can help it.”

“I’ll just go have Dr. Lorette sign the order for your pain medication to take home and then you’re good to be discharged.”

“Thanks, Mags.” The brunette mumbled drowsily, nuzzling her face against her lover’s shoulder as his hands traced down her back. His fingers weaved patterns in between her skin and stark white bandages. She heard the privacy curtain as it was pulled back. Then it was quiet as the curtain was pulled back into its place. 

“Erin knows about us now by the way.” Sarah yawned, pulling away from Connor to rub at her eyes. A pair of lips ghosted against hers and she smiled as Connor’s warm citrus scent wrapped around her, just like she wanted. She hummed in delight. 

“You talked to her?” His voice reverberated into her skin and it tickled her. 

“She kind of cornered me when I had the cool compresses on my back.” Once again she squirmed more into his warm, strong arms…Until her back seemed to ache as if it was a heartbeat.

Her boyfriend frowned sympathetically and his fingers danced up and down her back as if to sooth the pain away. “How’d it go?” 

“About as well as it could? We talked and I think we’re good? I don’t like that she kept it from me, but I understand her reasoning behind it. Hank is another story and another battle for another day. Because knowing him, he’ll be all over what happened tonight. A squad car will probably be posted outside my apartment until my dad is satisfied that this case is closed and taken care of.”  

“Do you want it to be outside your apartment?” Sarah shot Connor a dry look and her lips twisted into an amused smile. 

“It’s cute you think I have a choice,” she murmured to him, “Because speaking from experience, I don’t. Not when Hank thinks he’s keeping me safe. His philosophy is I’ll be pissed at him, but I’ll still be here. I’m just lucky he isn’t trying to keep me at the district.”   

“But the patrol car could sit just as easily outside of my apartment as it would yours. If you wanted some ‘coddling.’” 

The soft look from earlier was back in Sarah’s gaze. Only this time Connor caught her. Cupping her cheek, he leaned down and captured her lips with his. 

“Stop it,” he scolded her lightly when his lips left hers. But he didn’t pull away completely from her and she felt his words as easily as they shared breath. “Stop looking at me like I’ve done something extraordinary when I really haven’t.” 

“But to me,” she whispered, resting her forehead against his. “You have because outside of my family, I really haven’t had someone care about me like this...Not seriously at least.”

“That’s because it sounds like you’ve dated dicks. No offense,” Connor said with an amused grin creeping up on his lips. The brunette sputtered (Even though she knew he was right.) when a voice called out, “As a person who’s seen a good portion of her past relationships, I have to agree.”

Connor raised his eyebrows at her as an exasperated sigh left her mouth. 

“Hank’s son,” Sarah explained quietly to Connor before she pulled out of his arms with a pained whine. She grabbed the strings of her hospital gown.  “Would you mind helping me tie the back of this?” 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Where’s Hank? I thought he was coming back. And how are Danny and Olive? Are they okay? Are you?” Sarah asked her pseudo-brother, after her gown was tied, the privacy curtain pulled back, and Connor excused himself to go get his stuff from the doctor’s lounge because Maggie had caught him just before he made it to his locker and Sarah thought maybe it was her boyfriend’s way of giving her and Justin some time to talk.

Justin’s face twisted and Sarah bit her lip worriedly. Hank and Justin had the same expression when knew something but weren’t sure how to break it to her.  “Out with it, Justin.” 

“We’re fine. We’re all fine. Really, I’m more worried about you. They’re talking about releasing Danny soon and according to Olive, it’s thanks to you that she didn’t wind up with those second-degree burns on your back.” Heat erupted in her cheeks without her permission as her best friend looked at her with a pointed look. But the look fell into one of concern when Sarah winced because another bout of pain had run up her back.  Then he sighed, “As for Dad…He got caught up on the phone with Alvin. Coordinating patrol cars for us with Trudy and I think they have a suspect in mind already and it has something to do with Bunny?” 

“Bunny?” The curly-haired brunette blinked. Then she blurted in a stunned voice, “As in Erin’s mother, Bunny?” 

The last she heard from Erin was that Bunny was back from Reno and had kicked Husband #5 to the curb.  

Justin nodded and shrugged, “I didn’t hear much else. Dad caught me trying to listen in and walked away.” 

“Well, Tuck doesn’t compare you to a bull in a china shop for nothing.” She told him dryly and her pseudo-brother rolled his eyes at her. Then Sarah sobered slightly as she asked, “Do you think Erin knows?”

Justin nodded folding his arms, “Yeah, she knows. I saw her before I came to see you. She’s planning on going to work with Dad since she doesn’t seem to have a concussion. But she said it has something to do with an old case and the suspect getting released because Bunny had proof that Dad didn’t witness the crime. They think the guy, who was released this morning rigged the car.” 

“Was the guy guilty?” Sarah asked, but not because she doubted Hank. He’d never knowingly put an innocent man behind bars, but there was always a chance he could’ve been led astray in a case. (Not a good one because Hank was a pretty good cop. But still a chance.) 

“According to Erin, he is. But she was pretty tight-lipped about the details. Couldn’t get much out of her.” Justin told her with a shrug. 

Sarah hummed as Maggie came back with a clipboard and some forms, not even noticing Justin. “Okay Reese, you know the drill. The medication is in the pharmacy. Take one as needed for pain with food and keep your burns clean and change your bandages every 3-4 hours. Come back if the burns start to blister. And I’ll let Sharon and Dr. Charles what happened and that you won’t be in today-”

“I can come in today.” Sarah interrupted. Both Maggie and Justin turned and stared at her. Then it was her best friend that shook his head, “Sarah, you can’t even move without being in pain. Turn your big overachieving perfectionist brain off and take a day at the very least.” 

“Reese, listen to your…” Maggie started then trailed off because she wasn’t sure how to refer to the man that stood in front of them, “Brother?” 

“Brother works,” Justin told her with a nod. 

“Annoying over-protective brother,” The brunette corrected snarkily. But both Maggie and Justin ignored her. The charge nurse nodded and said with more confidence, “Reese, listen to your brother... And if you don’t, I’m sure Connor would be more than happy to help your brother argue with you.” 

Sarah’s eyes drifted up to find Connor leaning against the doorframe. Shit. Well, this just turned into a losing battle between Justin and Connor. Maggie set her discharge paperwork next to her as the ED phone beeped. Her friend looked down and shook her head.

“She’s trying to come in for her shift today,” the nurse explained, passing by the surgeon. Then she was calling for another doctor, explaining a trauma was on its way in. 

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Connor said. The brunette frowned because she had heard that tone before.  Usually, Sarah loved when her boyfriend used that voice with her…But it was usually used in the bedroom…Then it was also used outside of the bedroom, like last month when the ED was locked down with Lily and David. 

“I’m fine,” Sarah stressed before she tried to hide another wave of pain ran up her back. As if to contradict her. Justin snorted and Sarah watched as he looked at Connor. 

“Boyfriend?” Connor nodded (The brunette was too busy trying to fight the pain showing on her face that she missed the way Connor’s chest puffed up a little at the title. It was his first time actually hearing it. Despite the situation, Connor couldn’t deny how right it sounded.)  and her pseudo-brother pointed to himself, “Older Brother.” 

His gaze found Sarah’s once more. “If you can get up and walk to him without any pain then we’ll let it drop and you can come to work.”

“If Ms. Goodwin or Dr. Charles will even let you after they know what happened.” Connor inputted oh-so-helpfully. 

Though the distance was just a few steps, the curly-haired brunette knew she wouldn’t be able to do that. She wouldn’t be able to focus on walking and keeping the pain off of her face. So instead, Sarah chose to glare at her best friend.

“You giving me Mom’s evil eyes isn’t going to change anything,” Justin told her, sounding undeterred as he folded his arms. He didn’t know how much he looked like Hank when he stood like that.

“Besides, you promised me I could take care of you tonight,” Connor said, making his way into the bay. She felt his body's heat at her back and she leaned into his chest a little, even as she said, “Assholes. Both of you.” 

Connor and Justin both snorted a laugh. “I’m going to head back upstairs. You need anything before I go?”

Sarah shook her head at her pseudo-brother. “But will you give Hank a different address for the patrol car?” 

It was a Lakeview address. One Justin hadn’t heard before. But from the way, the boyfriend was trying to contain a grin, it wasn’t hard to figure out that it was his.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] 

“So I guess today is not the day that I see the inside of your apartment.” Connor drawled in her ear. 

“You wouldn’t fit in my bed,” Sarah deadpanned, turning to curl more into him. Even if it was a joke, she wasn’t sure if it was just that. While her bed was technically made for two people, it was small. Barely bigger than a large twin. “And we have a mattress to break in at your place and you promised me wine.”

“No wine with your pain medication,” Connor reminded her softly, pushing some of her curls back from her eyes, as his hand drifted to caress her cheek. 

“And we’ll be sleeping,” He stressed to her with a mock stern expression. “No funny business for at least three days. Your back is in no condition for any actual mattress-breaking activities.”

“I think that’s why you had to get a new mattress in the first place,” Sarah giggled. Then she nipped at his ear before she whispered, “And we could get up to some funny business if I’m on top Dr. Rhodes.”

“Do not tempt me,” Connor warned with a groan because of the image his girlfriend had helped plant in his mind. Sarah merely laughed. 

[lux-scriptum]

scooted back towards the beginning of PD, before aalis was "awake" as it were

~~~

Barry insisted on taking them out to lunch after the aquarium, and wouldn’t let them pay. He never did. He doted on the two young women like they were his own children. While Alice always felt a pang that he didn't have any himself, Barry seemed unbothered, instead taking every opportunity to bless them with his kindness. Bailey especially had always eaten it up; while she had adored her mother, her father had always been absent, and Barry offered an easy alternative, even more so now that she was an orphan.

Today he found them a little diner and chattered with them about anything and everything. Her mother had picked up scrapbooking, and promised to send the first one she made for them to look at. They’d already invited Barry to Thanksgiving. Her father wanted to talk to her about getting a car, despite her turning him down last year. 

“I quit my job,” Barry said unexpectedly.

Alice paused, fry halfway to her mouth. “Beg pardon?”

“But you love being a youth pastor,” Bailey blurted.

“I got a better offer,” Barry replied, his dark brown eyes sliding away. “One I couldn’t refuse.”

He’s hiding something, a little voice hissed in the back of Alice’s mind, vicious enough it caught her off guard and sent a spike of pain through her temple.

“What happened?” Alice forced out, pushing that voice deep down. 

“I got a better offer,” Barry repeated evenly, looking up resignedly. “I got the call last night. An... an old boss needs me elsewhere. In the city, for now, so you might see a bit more of me for a while, but elsewhere soon enough.” 

“You realize how cryptic that sounds, right?” Bailey asked.

Unexpectedly, Barry laughed, tipping his head back. “Yes, I do,” he admitted. “I’m just sparse on the details myself just yet. I haven’t even had a chance to tell your parents yet, Alice. They’ll be heartbroken to lose their guinea pig for your fathers experimental dishes when my boss moves me further away.” 

“Where are you staying?” Alice fretted, stuffing that little voice even deeper. “What are you going to do with your house?”

“I’ll find an apartment, don't you worry,” Barry assured her. “And of course, I’ll have to sell the house, but I don’t mind, really.”

The thought of Barry selling his house hurt almost as much as the idea of her parents selling her childhood home. Plenty of time Barry had babysat her over there throughout the years, and had even let her crash there on bad nights during her angsty teen phase. 

“Don’t look so morose,” Barry chided. He nudged her plate closer. “Nothing lasts forever, but it’s not like I’m dying. Things are just changing.”

Alice huffed at him, but picked at her plate again. She noted that Bailey was leaning against her, a silent request for comfort in the accidental reminder of an actual death that was all too recent. The lull in conversation was not one Alice felt equipped to handle. 

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[sheetsonfire]

I Only Want To Be With You

Fandom: Chicago PD

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Genre: Romance, mild angst, fluff

Word Count: 2944

Summary: The reader is turning 30, and nobody seems to have remembered.

A/N: A very belated birthday fic for @resanoona; happy birthday again, bb! Also, part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! I'm using this fic to fill the "Free" square. The classic (Not) Forgotten Birthday trope!

-

You were not the type of person to neither want nor expect a big fuss on your birthday. Years of your childhood and adulthood had been spent with your special day either being lacklustre or altogether forgotten. You had come to peace with the idea that it was a day just like any other for you.

So you surprise yourself with your own hurt when Jay, your boyfriend, doesn’t say anything to you the day you hit the big Three-Zero.

You’re in the kitchen putting coffee in the pot when his arms wrap around you from behind, soft lips pressing a lingering kiss to your neck as they often did every morning.

“Good morning, beautiful” Jay greets, waiting for you to stop pouring and set the hot liquid down before pulling you a little closer to his chest.

“Hey, baby.” You answer with a smile, turning around to meet his face. Letting your hands slide over his arms until you wrap yourself around him, relishing the warmth of his hands on your waist.

Those kind green eyes are full of appreciation for you, yet you’re still hit with the pang of hurt that ever so swiftly settles in your gut. Words you had been hoping to hear don't pass his lips. Those same kind eyes seem to show no recognition or remembrance of what today was for you.

You eat breakfast in concealed distress, wrestling with your emotions as Jay talks about his plans for the day, granted they include you but none of them seem to hint at your birthday.

In fact, as the morning goes on, you start to doubt whether you’d ever told Jay when exactly your birthday was. However, deep down you knew that was a reach, you and Jay had been dating for almost a year, meeting for your first date not long after your last birthday, it had been a big point of conversation at the time.

Jay had even insisted on taking you to a fancy Italian cake shop down the street from the coffee shop you’d met at, letting you choose whichever decadent cake or pastry your heart desired.

You had shared a giant slice of cake with him inside one of the cosy booths the shop had; the booth was surrounded by flowers and the warm glow of lighting that emulated sunshine. That afternoon had been one of the most special belated birthdays you’d ever had.

So here you were, without a single well wish from your boyfriend, and to add to your bleak mood you seemingly didn't have any texts from friends either. The whole world felt like it was on mute, with not even a hint of jubilation for you as your existence ticked into its 30th year.

-

Jay, as intended, makes a move to go on his errands, offering lunch to entice you. You had said yes, of course. After all, you still wanted Jay’s company.

-

As you sit in Jay’s truck, he scrolls on his phone for a short while, seemingly looking for a playlist in particular. You’re leaning your head against the window, trying to keep the frustrated tears at bay, feeling silly for getting so upset about your birthday.

It wasn’t Jay’s fault, you knew better than that, this was a culmination of years of people forgetting or not bothering when all you did for others was try.

In your reverie, you feel a warm hand on your knee, turning your head you meet Jay’s worried gaze. “You okay, sweetheart?” You nod instinctively, pressing your hand over his, holding for a moment. You try and lift your expression, brushing your thumb over his hand, “Yeah, just not quite awake yet.”

He’s not convinced, you can tell, but he doesn’t push. Slowly he lets go, leaning across the centre console to kiss your cheek, “It won’t take long, then we can just chill for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds good.” You smile a little then, still looking forward to that at least.

-

Jay hits play on his phone, slotting it into the holder on the dash.

The song intro that fills the truck makes your head snap up to Jay who was now pulling out of the parking space with a small smile on his face once he realises you’re looking at him.

Playing is the song that you first heard on your first date with Jay, you remember how both of you ended up laughing because the music was particularly loud next to your table, and it was hard to ignore listening to the lyrics.

It was “Baby I’m Yours” by Arctic Monkeys, a modern cover of a 60s track. You feel your heart pick up its pace.

You still weren’t sure whether Jay’s music choice was related to your birthday or not, but it was still incredibly sweet and the lyrics carried that sentiment through. You reach out a hand to stroke at the nape of Jay’s neck, showing your appreciation as best as you knew how without your voice betraying your emotions.

Baby, I'm yours (baby, I'm yours)

And I'll be yours (yours) until the stars fall from the sky

Yours (yours) until the rivers all run dry

In other words, until I die

Baby, I'm yours (baby, I'm yours)

And I'll be yours (yours) until the sun no longer shines

Yours (yours) until the poets run out of rhyme

In other words, until the end of time

Jay only kept driving, waiting for the next track as he continued the route to a specific location that you were yet to know about. In your distraction by the music, you didn't think to ask.

-

Your mood continues to lift significantly when you hear the opening notes of Birdy’s “I Only Want To Be With You”, another cover. This time a cover of the classic track by Dusty Springfield.

You shake your head beside Jay, letting out a small laugh as you realise how ludicrously sweet he’s being. It’s at that moment that you realise you might not care if Jay did remember or not; because with or without your birthday he always tries to make you feel special.

“You are something else, Jay” You murmur, feeling the warmth bloom in your stomach, noting that the weather seemed to be in cahoots with your boyfriend now, watching as the sun fights to peek through the blanket of grey clouds. It thaws the cold in your bones as it casts a warm glow through the passenger window.

Jay still doesn’t say anything, for now, he simply squeezes your shoulder with a reassuring rub of his thumb, letting you enjoy the song in the comfortable silence between you.

-

You relish the selection Jay has put together, songs that you both enjoy, songs that you’ve shared moments with, songs that he knew you loved.

The journey doesn’t last too much longer and, with a few more turns down certain streets, you realise where you’re going. You knew West Fulton Boulevard for one reason alone, it would take you to the Garfield Park Conservatory. The botanical haven was full of nature’s wonders, it was one of your favourite places to find peace of mind.

You turn to look at your boyfriend who’s now definitely grinning to himself, he can already tell that this was a good decision.

“You. You’re a sneak.” You state teasingly, already itching to get out of the truck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jay teases back, finding a parking spot near the adjoining path to the conservatory. 

As he kills the engine he turns to look at you, seeing the tearful reflection in your eyes. “Y/N? Are you okay?” He asks, brow furrowing. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak without bursting into tears. 

“Are these happy tears?” Jay asks.

It’s still uncertain as to whether this was Jay acknowledging your birthday or not, but you felt too awkward to ask now. Yet, you were still unbelievably happy to be where you were, and you nod again.

“Okay.” Jay breathes, smiling as he leans to kiss your forehead. “I just thought we could have a nice day together, maybe watch a movie or something later?” He queries, rubbing an affectionate hand up and down your arm.

Your voice is a sort of squeak, but you speak this time. “Sounds great, Jay, really. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You deserve it all. Come on, let’s go in.” Jay moves to open his door, but you catch his hand and pull him back for a moment, pressing a slow and sweet kiss to his lips. Watching with delight as his eyes flutter, mesmerised by your presence, he was entirely too wonderful for his own good.

“Okay, now we can go.” You murmur, hopping out of your passenger side and closing the door firmly shut.

-

Jay approaches the front desk with you not far behind, he talks to the guide behind the counter and they exchange words that you can’t hear. Then, the guide gestures to a different doorway than you’re used to, feeling confused as they lead you and Jay down what appears to be a staff corridor, whilst another colleague replaces them at the front desk.

You figured maybe procedures had changed since COVID hit, you already knew that bookings were essential at least.

Jay’s hand clasping with yours brings you back to the present, and you let the small change in the routine fall out of your mind as you focus on the warmth of Jay’s hand clasped with yours. Feeling the excitement grow at being amongst beautiful plant life from around the world with someone you loved more than most.

Eventually, the path takes you to somewhere familiar, still wrestling with your mind on whether you should ask why you weren’t seeing the grounds in the same order as previous visits. It was a mix of confusion and giddiness as you still remain following your guide through the Artist’s Garden, towards rustic white doors that led to the Horticulture Hall.

It’s then that you come to a stop in front of a rope barrier with a sign attached that reads, “Do not enter. Reserved for private hire.” 

Jay looks at you and you look back, thoroughly confused and worried that for some reason this guide was about to intrude on someone’s private event. You almost tug on Jay’s hand to halt all movement and call to your guide, but then the guide speaks.

“Here we are, Mr Halstead. If you need anything at all here’s my card, and I’ll make sure someone checks in on you in a little while.”

Jay thanks the guide, and you quickly hurry to do the same. With that, they smile at both of you and start to walk back the way you’d just come. Leaving you and Jay standing in front of the rope.

You can feel the goosebumps rushing across your skin, it was pretty clear what was happening now, but you ask anyway. “Jay, what’s happening?”

Jay chuckles, shaking his head, “I can’t believe I lasted this long to be honest, Y/N.” He unlatches the rope from one of its posts, letting you step in front of him before re-latches it, then he moves forward to push down on the golden handle attached to the white door, opening out onto the vast conservatory hall filled with an array of colourful plants, vines, and trees.

There’s now the clear sound of soft, relaxing, music playing through the sound system. The gentle sound of running water through different sculptures can be heard.

In the centre of the space is a table for two, covered with a pristine white tablecloth, cutlery, plates and glasses, there's a centrepiece of a wreath with various flowers and leaves woven in. Beside it stood a cart that seemed to be filled with a small buffet of food, surrounding a cake that sat in the centre.

Balloons that read “Happy Birthday!” were scattered around the space, they bobbed and swayed in the air, shimmering in light from above.

You're frozen to the spot, in awe of what's in front of you. The tears gather quickly again in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as you turn to Jay who already moves to pull you into an embrace.

Tucking your head into his shoulder, you let your tears flow, squeezing him tightly as he gently sways with you, a loving hand on your head with soft fingers stroking your hair.

He whispers softly to you, "Happy birthday, sweetheart. I could never forget, I will never forget."

The words only make your breath hitch, crying a little more as it only becomes more unquestionable that Jay adores you, relief that he hadn't forgotten floods your chest.

-

Jay gives you as much time as you need, and eventually, you do pull away to meet his gentle gaze. He smiles at you, thumbing away the dampness on your cheeks, and you smile back. Your heart is still racing.

"I feel kinda bad for dragging this out now." He remarks, brushing a gentle knuckle across your jaw as he studies your face.

You shake your head, letting out a tearful laugh. "No, no, I understand wanting to make this a surprise, and it really was, Jay. I thought I was going crazy and convinced myself that you didn't know it was my birthday. but we-"

"We celebrated it last year, after our first date." He states, finishing your line.

"Exactly. I just...I didn't want to make a big deal, I'm used to it being forgotten, but it still stung. I'm sorry, I'm such a crying mess." You sniff, blinking away the teardrops as you still find yourself giggling in shock.

Jay kisses your forehead, tugging you a little closer once more. "You never have to be sorry, baby. I want you to know that you can always tell me how you're feeling, and I am so glad I could finally share the secret with you, it's been killing me keeping it to myself."

You nod, exhaling. Feeling so much lighter, excitement humming through you as you take a look around at the set-up.

Jay takes your hand, encouraging you to follow. "Come on, I want to show you everything."

-

Once you're closer to the neatly set table, you recognise the logo on the cart. Practically gasping as you see that Jay had managed to get a spread of food from the same restaurant and bakery that had really started it all.

The birthday cake in the centre was beautifully piped with luxurious creme and writing that read "Happy Birthday, Y/N", topped with fresh fruit that popped with colour.

-

You were now clinking your glass with Jay's as he toasted you into your new year of life, sipping the fizzing drink as you let yourself take pause to admire the man in front of you.

"If I can ask... How the hell did you hire this place? The waiting list is lifetimes long." You ask in disbelief despite the tranquil privacy you were currently sitting in being proof. And yes, you had looked into hiring it privately yourself, a distant dream for a special occasion, like a wedding perhaps.

Jay takes another sip of his drink, a smug smile on his lips.

"I happened to save the life of the Special Events Manager here. She said that if I ever needed a favour, I should call her. I told her that we weren't allowed to accept gifts or things of monetary value. She told me that it would be rude to not let a new friend do me a favour, so I took her card out of politeness... But then I met you, and I knew how much you loved places like this, especially here. So, when your birthday was coming up, I was sure that I wanted to let that favour come into play. Joan was more than happy to oblige, so here we are." Your boyfriend shrugs, happily popping a miniature bread roll into his mouth.

You already cherished Jay's selflessness and bravery, and though you could happily go through life without him putting himself in danger, it meant the world to you now that that act had somehow contributed to today.

Taking his hand from across the table, you lift it to kiss his palm."I truly cannot tell you enough how amazing this all is, Jay. Thank you, sincerely, for thinking of me and for getting everything together. I'm going to have to pull some serious strings for your birthday, put it that way. I love you."

Jay waves you off, shaking his head. "I just need my girl, that's it. This isn't a debt you owe or a favour to be repaid, this is you being loved how you should be loved."

You prop your chin in your hand, just dopily looking at Jay with a smile as you pop a strawberry in your mouth. Watching with glee as he takes a lighter from his pocket and reaches for the cake, setting it down between you as he flicks the lighter and puts the flame to the wick of the candle.

As the sun bathes you both in light through the conservatory roof, you feel goosebumps rush across your skin. Eyes twinkling as Jay offers you the cake, "Happy birthday, Y/N. Make a wish."

You don't say it out loud, as is the custom for making a wish. But to yourself, you hope that you spend the rest of your birthdays beside the man in front of you, you could think of no better gift.

-

Fin.

[songforeddiemunson]

Panic in Detroit 7

A Bartender!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader fix-it fic series.

Series Summary: It’s the year 1991. Reader is fleeing an unendurable life in an attempt to start anew. A dangerous man hunts her, and she finds herself in a seedy corner of Detroit, working in a dive bar under a false name. Unbeknownst to her, her whole world is about to be thrown into an even worse tailspin, further complicated by a mysterious and handsome bartender with a complicated past of his own.

Series Warnings: Angst, trauma, violence; there will be references to past domestic violence but nothing explicitly described. Coarse language, stressful situations, eventual smut and fluff. Slow burn. Minors DNI. Reader’s description is vague apart from being AFAB, in an attempt to remain inclusive.

**As always, if you like this, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of any fic writer! Please let me know if you would like to be included in a taglist for this series.**

Chapter Seven: Heroes

(The Final Chapter)

Chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, tw: blood, weapons, injuries. Foul language, angst, whump and anxiety, this one is a doozy. But there is also fluff, triumph and a lot of love.

Important Note: in this AU, it should be noted that Eddie did not get injured by the demobats in the upside down. Everything else happened according to canon, but then El shut Vecna down and the bats dropped before they could attack Eddie.

Word count: 7k

PART SIX

Eddie sat on the motel room bed with his shoulders slumped and his feet flat on the floor. He could dimly hear Detective Danko’s voice, but she sounded far away, his shock-addled brain simply couldn’t focus on the words she was saying. He stared out the open door into the parking lot at all the police cars that had gathered there; some were local Detroit police, others were the black, sinister unmarked vehicles of the FBI. Since Jake’s crimes had crossed state lines the Feds were technically in charge, but were still allowing Danko and some other Detroit PD to work on the case with them.

Eddie foggily wondered why he was so cold, and he curled in on himself instinctively, wrapping his arms around his own slim frame. He barely had the presence of mind to realize the door was wide open and was letting in the cold-late December air; of course he was cold. Even though he said nothing, Detective Danko seemed to notice this, and she moved to slam the door shut. She picked up a discarded towel from the floor and wrapped it around his shoulders.

“Do you have a jacket, Eddie?” she asked him.

There was a beat of silence, and finally his brown eyes lifted to meet hers. “Huh?” he said, weakly.

She sighed, feeling a pang of pity for the poor guy. 

“Eddie,” she said, a little louder, but not unsympathetically. “Stay with me, kid.”

He nodded, and she saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, but his eyes turned back downward to the floor. He had already answered Danko’s questions, and then he answered the same questions asked by some beefy fed whose name he didn’t remember. He answered truthfully yet numbly, his heart broken into a thousand pieces and his shame at letting this happen eat away at what remained of his sanity. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly to the detective, when he realized he was a little less cold. She put a hand on his shoulder.

“Look at me.”

He lifted his eyes back to hers. “This isn’t your fault,” she said firmly.

“How is that?” Eddie asked.

She sighed. “You had no way of knowing that Jake figured out where you were staying. Hell, I can’t fucking figure it out myself. And you told Cassidy to wait and she didn’t listen. That’s not on you either. But the only one who is truly responsible for this is Jake. Don’t lose sight of that.”

Eddie was about to reply when there was a tentative knock on the door, and when Danko opened it, Erica stood on the other side. The Detective opened the door widely to allow her entry; she knew who Erica was.

“I was thinking,” Erica said, her eyes bright and her hands fidgeting. “Not too long before Cassidy was taken, I had gone over to the vending machines that are outside by the office to grab a soda. I saw an old beater pickup truck come into the parking lot, drive all the way around the back of the motel slowly, come out the other side, and back out onto the street. It didn’t stop, but it was driving real slow like it was looking for someone, ya know? It left, but then a little while later, I could hear it again. I was back in my room by then and I didn’t look outside, but it had a distinctive engine sound, like it was on its last legs, and it was pretty loud. I think it came into the lot again. It sounded like it stopped for a little while, and then left again.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, and he perked up for the first time since Danko had gotten there. “That– that could have been him.” He looked at Detective Danko hopefully. “Do you think that could have been him?”

Danko looked torn. “It’s possible, but it’s hard to say.” She took out her notebook and flipped it open. “Can you describe the truck to me in as much detail as you can?”

Erica paused. “Well I can’t tell what color it was; it was a piece of crap. Maybe it was brown once but now it’s all shitty and rusty. I mentioned it was loud, like the muffler had a hole in it. It was a generic looking pickup, not too big, kinda boxy. But one thing I thought was weird…when it drove by me, I thought it smelled sort of sweet.”

Danko was scribbling furiously in her notes but looked up at the last bit. “Sweet? What do you mean sweet?”

Erica shrugged. “It’s kind of hard to describe. But instead of the usual exhaust smell, it had a kind of sweet smell. Fruity, almost.”

Danko opened her mouth to say something, but Eddie interrupted her by jumping up.

“DIESEL!” He shouted.

“What?” Erica and Danko asked in unison.

“Diesel fuel, it smells sort of sweet,” he said, his voice shaking in his excitement, the words tumbling out excitedly. “It contains a chemical that is also found in orange peels.” 

His proverbial wheels were turning, and he started pacing the room, thinking. “Diesel trucks, diesel trucks…” he muttered to himself, rattling off makes and models in his mind.  He stopped suddenly.  “The Dodge DW100!  It was only made in 78 and 79, so one might be old enough to be rusty. It was pretty boxy and generic looking, but it had a diesel engine and was made right here in… fucking Detroit!”  He punched the wall lightly for emphasis on his last two words. “It didn’t sell, so there are probably some sitting around decaying in old factory lots and junkyards.”

Danko and Erica simply stared at him, Danko’s mouth slightly agape.

Eddie shrugged. “I studied to be a mechanic before I decided to be a bartender instead.” 

Danko pulled out her walkie. “I need an APB on a Dodge…” she looked at Eddie.  Eddie walked over to her and spoke directly into the walkie, “a 78 or 79 Dodge DW100 pickup truck, rusty, diesel engine, broken muffler.”

“Okay,” Danko said, waving him off. “Did you get that?”

When the dispatcher confirmed receipt, she clipped the walkie back to her belt. “Okay I’m going to head out. You two sit tight. Alright?”

“Yes, Detective,” Eddie replied as Erica nodded.

As soon as the door was closed, Eddie turned to Erica. “I am NOT sitting tight.”

“Fuck no!” she replied, and the two of them were out the door as soon as Eddie put his coat and shoes on.

The first thing you noticed when you slowly swam up toward the surface of consciousness was that your head hurt, and badly. You sat with your eyes closed, fighting down the wave of nausea that assaulted you, dimly wondering where you were and what had happened.

Then you remembered.

Your eyes flew open at the memory of Jake’s large hand slamming over your nose and mouth, smothering your face with a cloth soaked with some chemical. You stove off the bile that rose to the top of your throat and your vision swam as it cleared; whatever Jake had knocked you out with left you with a nasty hangover. You closed your eyes again, took several deep, cleansing breaths, then slowly opened them.

Better.

You were in a dirty room that looked like it had been an office once upon a time. The only light streamed in through a large grate-covered window on one wall. On the other side of the room was an old metal desk, and a file cabinet with two of its six drawers pulled open. The room was maybe 100 square feet, if you were being generous, and the door that stood open on the other side seemed to lead to a larger room, but you couldn’t see much in the dim lighting. Everything looked like it had sat neglected for years; the dust motes danced lazily in the morning sunshine that streamed through the windows before settling onto the surfaces with its brethren, undeterred by the grime and rust.

Your hands were tied behind your back, pulled tightly around the back of the metal chair you were sitting in. You chanced a tug with your wrists, and the hard plastic of a zip-tie bit into your flesh painfully.  

“Ah fuck,” you muttered to yourself softly with a hiss.  

You decided to try to see if you could get a look at what was outside the door, and attempted to scoot your chair closer to it, but the metal legs screeched loudly against the rough concrete floor. The sound echoed out into the depths of whatever hell you were in like a banshee, and your blood froze in your veins.

“Shit,” you said softly, dejected.

You simply sat and waited for the inevitable footsteps that you knew would arrive. You didn’t know what else to do. Sure enough, after no more than ten seconds had passed, you heard the thudding of heavy boots on the concrete floor. Every step was amplified by its own echo, and each one signaled a deeper certainty that you were going to die.

In the seconds that followed, you were dimly surprised to realize that you weren’t afraid. You felt a cold dread and sinking clarity, but it wasn’t fear. In fact, part of you almost wanted to get it over with. You were tired of running and being scared out of your mind. You couldn’t even bring yourself to mourn the life that you would never be able to live, and all the possibilities that would now be snuffed out forever. You almost didn’t even care.

And then Eddie’s face appeared at the forefront of your mind.

For a moment, you saw him as you normally would through stolen glances at work. His hair pulled back with those little face-framing curls you grew to love, his eyes focused on whatever drink he was pouring as he chatted with a customer.

Then, you saw him walking across the parking lot of Tom’s Tavern, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his coat. He took a couple of running steps and then deliberately slid across a frozen puddle, and then he stumbled a bit awkwardly on the other side. He looked back at you, and he said, you weren’t supposed to see that, before he started laughing.

The flashes came faster, tumbling through your mind. Him gesticulating wildly over something that excited him. The way he tipped his head back when he laughed; really laughed. The way he punched down the icicles hanging over the eaves of the bar before you could walk outside, so “you wouldn’t get stabbed” by falling ice. He looked like Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club whenever he did it. You loved it.

Your first kiss, on Christmas Eve. It was only one week ago, and yet it felt like eons. Giggling in bed. Touches, sighs. Being held, feeling safe. I fucking love you.

And it was then that you realized that tears were streaming down your face, but not because you were afraid. It was because your heart was so full that you thought you might burst. A choked sob escaped your lips. 

Oh shit, you thought to yourself, with a new surge of energy. I can’t fucking die now.

Eddie steered Erica’s car through the east-side industrial area of Detroit. Erica had lasted less than twenty minutes behind the wheel before she pulled over, letting Eddie switch seats with her just to shut him up. 

“Go left here. HERE NOW ERICA.”

“God dammit Ed, a little notice?!”

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME ERICA!”

Erica was amazed she made it twenty minutes under those conditions. She understood the sense of urgency, she really did. But she had to dig deep to summon a new kind of patience for the state that Eddie was in. A state for which she was, of course, entirely sympathetic. Nevertheless, she now sat in the passenger seat while Eddie steered his way around the city he was familiar with, happier for not being yelled at.

“Okay so walk me through it,” she said, now that things were more calm. “Why are we heading to this part of the city?”

“I don’t know. I keep thinking about that truck. If it was actually old factory surplus, it may have just been sitting around in some lot. Or maybe he boosted it from some old factory worker, I don’t know.” He gripped the wheel tighter. “But I have to try something.”

“I know, Eddie, and I’m with you,” Erica soothed.  “Are there a lot of abandoned plants?”

Eddie nodded. “Most were demolished or were sold to other companies, but a couple are just sitting there and rotting,” he said. “I’ve had a lot of customers come in and drown their sorrows over being laid off at the plants over the years. The whole industry has been on the decline for decades.”

“Lucky for you that you went into bartending instead of the auto industry,” Erica said, with a smirk.

“Ha-ha,” he replied, giving her some side eye, but she wasn’t wrong, even if luck had nothing to do with it.

“Also, a run down old factory would be a good place to hole up, and you know, bring a kidnap victim,” he added bitterly. His mind turned to thoughts of you being trapped in such a place and the things that could be done to you there, and icy cold tendrils danced down his spine like fingers. If he let himself dwell too long in those thoughts, he would probably go crazy, and there was no time for that. He pushed the thoughts aside, taking deep and steadying breaths.

He turned down another road. Erica noticed that as Eddie drove, the traffic was getting lighter and the weeds were getting taller. After driving on a little while longer and making another couple of turns, Eddie pulled up to a tall, rusty chain link gate that was locked up with a thick chain and padlock. DO NOT ENTER and KEEP OUT signs were fastened to the gate. 

“Welcome to the old Packard Plant,” he said, as he stared at the massive, decaying complex that sprawled ahead. 

“Jesus,” Erica breathed. “It’s huge.”

“Bigger than any shopping mall,” Eddie said. Erica thought about Starcourt, and shuddered.

The main factory looked about the size of a city block; one huge complex in the middle, dotted with small buildings all around it. Its largest buildings stood at least eight stories high, and all of them gave the sinister impression that they were watching everything that went on around them with their large, empty eyes.

“Do you really think he took her here?” Erica asked as she looked around, her voice somehow smaller.

“I can’t say for certain,” Eddie said. “But I have a pretty good idea." He raised his hand and pointed off to the right. There, partially obscured by weeds next to an old shed, was a beat-up old Dodge DW100.

Erica turned her head to follow Eddie's finger, and gasped. "That's it, that's the truck I saw! Should we call the cops?”

Eddie killed the ignition. “I’m not taking the time to go find a payphone,” he said, and swung his door open. “Besides, they’ll probably come to the same conclusion any minute and be right behind us.”

Erica snickered. “You’re putting an awful lot of faith in the police.”

“Well. Notice that we're here and they’re not,” he said, climbing out of the car and closing the door quietly behind him. Erica followed suit.

He paused for a moment, staring at the huge building, and took a deep shuddering breath.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said.

By the time Jake’s heavy boosteps had arrived at the door to your little office prison, you were ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. You shoved aside the revulsion you felt when you saw him enter the room.

“Jake….Jake is that you?” you muttered groggily, feigning confusion.  “Jake, oh thank god. Where am I? Why am I tied to this chair?”

Jake walked over and stopped in front of you, hulking and intimidating.  

“You thought you could run away from me.” His voice was menacing, but soft. “You thought you could get away but I found you. Nobody gets away from me.”

You blinked up at him. “What do you mean, Jake? I didn’t run away from you.”

Jake paused, he wasn’t expecting that.

“What– yes you did. I saw you. I saw you at the bus station, you’ve been hiding from me.”

You faked a smile. “No, silly. I would never run from you. I love you. I was running from the police.”

He blinked a few times, then bent down so as to be eye level with you. He gripped your chin in his hand roughly. “What the fuck are you talking about,” he hissed.

“After they arrested you. After that time I made you lose your temper. The police, they interrogated me when I was in the hospital,” you lied. “They told me that you were wanted for murder, and that they were going to put you away forever. They said I was an accomplice…that I had helped you and they were going to arrest me too, if I didn’t confess to everything.”

Jake’s blue eyes were piercing as he studied your face. “They said that?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “I told them that it was all lies, of course. I told them that I loved you and that you weren’t a killer. They said that they were going to go get handcuffs and arrest me, so when they left the room I ran away.”  You forced tears to come, to thicken your voice with emotion and roll down your cheeks. “I was so afraid. I was so afraid for you.” You wanted to vomit. 

“But–” Jake said, uncertain. “But you ran from me at the bus station, you ran onto that bus and didn’t come out when I screamed your name.”

“That was you?” you said. “I thought it was the police. I swear, if I had seen you, I would have run to you. I thought you were in jail. I missed you so much. Oh Jake, I was so scared!”  You started weeping.

“I was only in jail a couple of days,” he said. “I thought you knew that.” 

You shook your head emphatically. “No Jake. I didn’t know. Nobody told me. I got out of town as fast as I could. They were coming for me.”

“They didn’t mention anything about you, when they were questioning me.” His voice was laced with suspicion.

“I don’t know. Must have been their strategy. They talked to me a lot about you. But obviously they let you go because you were innocent. Oh Jake, my wrists are hurting. Can’t you cut these ties? I’ll never run from you Jake. I’ve missed you so much.”

You had read something somewhere, maybe People magazine, about people escaping their kidnappers by feeding their ego and pretending they were on their side. To your absolute shock and even a little amusement, it actually seemed to be working. Jake might be a psychopath, but a lot of them were also narcissists.

“You promise you won’t do anything? It wouldn’t be good for you, if you tried something,” Jake said.

“I promise. I promise Jake. I love you.”

He pulled a swiss army knife from his pocket and extended the blade accessory before reaching behind you to cut the zip tie.

I can’t believe this is working, you thought to yourself. He’s really a fucking idiot. What did I ever see in this gu–

Your thoughts were promptly silenced by your arms dropping down to your sides, circulation flooding your arms with a tingly rush of warmth and relief. You fought the urge to rub your wrists, and instead threw your arms around Jake’s shoulders in an embrace, choking down bile as you did so.

“Thank god you found me,” you sobbed. “I missed you baby.”

“I missed you too,” he said. “I was so mad when I thought you ran from me.”

“I would never run from you,” you said, releasing your hold on him. “We were going to get married, remember? Can we still get married? Maybe we could go to Vegas,” you pretended to be excited by the prospect.

Jake smiled for the first time. “Yeah, maybe. I need to lay low for a while though. A lot of people are looking for me.”

You nodded solemnly. “I understand, I’ll wait with you. Baby, I’m freezing,” You said, rubbing your arms for emphasis. It was actually true, as you were only in jeans and a tee-shirt, and it was probably 55 degrees in there at best.  “I’m too woozy to get up. Can you get me a blanket or something?”

“Okay,” he replied tentatively. “Wait here and I’ll get it for you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, forcing your most angelic smile. 

He turned and left the room. After his footsteps sounded like a safe distance away (this place is huge, you thought to yourself), you slowly stood up from the chair, careful not to move it and make the legs scrape upon the concrete floor again. You crept over to the desk and started gently opening drawers, looking for something that you might be able to use as a weapon. Nothing in there. You checked the filing cabinet; also empty, apart from some old papers. 

Then you saw it. You didn’t notice it before because it had been behind you when you were tied to the chair, but on the other side of the room against the wall was a tall metal cabinet that looked at least six feet tall and was about the size of a small closet. You hurried over to it and gritted your teeth as you gently pulled the door open, and it yielded easily with only a small squeak; nothing loud enough to raise alarm. Your heart leaped happily in your throat.

Leaning in the corner of the cabinet among other miscellanea, was an iron crowbar.

Eddie and Erica crept along the side of the main building, looking for a spot to sneak inside. Eddie knew it was only a matter of time before an entrance would make itself known; the plant had been closed since the 70s and had seen its share of squatters over the years.

After a while, they spotted a broken window with its metal grating wrenched open, and it was definitely large enough for an adult to squeeze into. I wonder if this was the opening Jake used, Eddie thought to himself, his heart pounding.

Eddie silently gestured to Erica that this is where they should go in, but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Weapons. We need something for self defense.”

“Shit, yeah,” Eddie whispered back. He had been so desperate to find you, that the idea of arming himself almost completely slipped his mind. “Look around the building, check the weeds and shit. There’s gotta be stuff we can use nearby.”

After a little while, Eddie came up with a two-foot length of iron rebar, Erica still had nothing.

“It’s okay,” Erica said. “You whack him with that hunk of metal, I’ll jump on him or something.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Eddie said, struggling to keep his voice quiet. “I am not letting a 17 year old chick jump on a fucking serial killer!” He punctuated the word ‘jump’ with air quotes for emphasis.

“Do you have a better idea?” she whisper-spat, hands on her hips.

“Yeah, actually, I do.” Eddie said, and pointed a finger in her face. “Go wait in the car.”

“Out of the question,” she said firmly, batting his finger away.

Eddie sighed and looked heavenward. He was an agnostic, but he wished god would kill him right then anyway. “For fuck’s sake,” he said. “Fine, you stubborn asshole. But if you die, I’m telling your mom it was all your fault.”

“You’ll die first, Munson. Oh wait! Look…” Erica stooped and picked up a broken length of two-by-four. There were a couple of rusty nails sticking out of it.

“What, are you gonna kill him with tetanus?” Eddie whisper-yelled.

Erica shrugged. “You see anything else?”

“Fine, let’s just go,” he said.

The bottom of the window was just at ground level, with about a four foot drop into the building.  Eddie went first, stooping low to slide down into the building, and then turned around to give Erica a hand. He would never admit it out loud, but he was glad he wasn’t alone, even though he feared for her safety. 

Once the two of them were safely inside, Eddie looked around, allowing his eyes to acclimate to the darkness.  The room they entered was massive; it had probably been an assembly-line room back in the day, but all the equipment was long gone. All that remained were pillars every fifty feet or so, shadows, and grime.

“Where do we go now?” Erica whispered. 

Eddie paused. Any sound that occurred in this vicinity would carry quite far with no obstructions, so he held up a finger, and listened.

Erica’s hand suddenly grabbed Eddie’s sleeve, startling him. He swallowed an exclamation of alarm; choosing to glare at her instead.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered near his ear.

“What? I don’t hear anything.”

“I swear I thought I heard footsteps.”

Eddie listened for a moment, but he heard nothing.

“No I don’t–”

“Shhhh!” 

And then he heard them. They weren’t close; there was no way of knowing where they were coming from exactly, with the way the echoes tricked one’s ear. But he heard them nonetheless. 

He held his breath and listened to the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps echoing in the building.

As you reached for the crowbar, you heard Jake coming back.

Mother of fuck, you thought to yourself, that was too quick.

You grabbed the crowbar and hid next to the door so it would obscure your body when he opened it.  The last time you heard him walking to your room it sounded like he had to walk over fifty yards, so you had a moment to steel yourself. You took several steadying breaths, and waited. 

His footsteps stopped outside of the door.  The knob turned, and the door opened. Jake was obscured from your view by the now partially-opened door, so you couldn’t see him, but you heard him say, “what the–” as he noticed you were no longer in your chair.

You stepped out from behind the door, and swung the crowbar at his head.

It turns out, knocking someone out usually doesn’t go the way it does in the movies. First off, it’s hard to aim and swing something heavy, especially when you had been gassed unconscious not long before. Second, people don’t get knocked out with just any bonk to the head.

It was an admirable effort, and you managed to land a glancing blow off the side of his head. It did not, however, have the desired effect of rendering Jake unconscious; it only made him angry.

“What the fuck?” he bellowed. “You bitch!”

He staggered, and you saw blood run from his lacerated flesh, but he, unfortunately, remained very much awake. However, his stumble did give you the needed seconds to run, and run you did. But as you passed him to run out the door, he swiped at you and knocked the crowbar out of your hand.

Unable to go back for it, you ran into the darkness unarmed, an angry and bellowing Jake not far behind.

Eddie and Erica had only been inside the building for about a minute when he heard Jake’s enraged shout echo across the building, followed by a loud metal clatter.  They froze, but Eddie’s heart thudded loudly in his ears, his adrenaline flooding his system, and he wanted nothing more than to take off at a blind run to find you, but that might only get you all killed.

“Was that him?” Erica asked in a breathy whisper.

“I think so,” he replied. 

They listened for a moment, and then they heard the sounds of running feet; light and small followed by heavy and big, and more angry yelling. 

“Oh my god,” Eddie said, less quietly this time, and he broke into a run at last. 

“Christ,” Erica muttered under her breath, and she took off after him. 

Eddie’s long legs enabled him to outpace Erica easily, and he quickly lengthened the distance between them as he ran across the massive, empty factory.  He reached a corner, and paused to listen. The footsteps seemed to be getting closer, so he chanced a peek around the corner.

He saw you materialize from the darkness, running as quickly as your legs could carry you.

She’s alright, he thought, elatedly. Oh thank fuck, she’s alright.

His elation was cut short however, when he spotted Jake running after you, and he had a pistol in his hand.

Your brain could barely register what was happening as a hand clamped down on your left arm and pulled you around the corner you had just approached. All you knew is that you were running as fast as you could and then you were being pulled roughly in a different direction. You yelped in alarm, and when you spotted Eddie, your brain almost turned to total mush.

What! How did he—

“How did you–” you started to ask, but you were being pulled away before you could finish your sentence. 

“Run!” Eddie yelled as he pulled you along. “He has a fucking gun!”

“What!” you squawked, trying your best to keep up with him as you ran toward the other side of the building and the window that Eddie and Erica had entered moments before. An insane mess of emotions warred for dominance; joy and relief after seeing Eddie, adrenaline and fear over your escape, and now an intense new terror over the fact that Jake had some sort of firearm and that Eddie was now in very serious danger.  

“Erica!” Eddie shouted after noticing the teen was no longer with him, and he looked behind his shoulder as he ran. He spotted her crouched at the corner where Eddie had found you, waiting for Jake to appear. She had her wooden plank poised in the air and ready to strike. Eddie slowed his run as he watched, eyes wide, and muttered, ��Oh shi–” just in time to see her smash Jake in the face with her board of wood as he rounded the corner. Down Jake went, and she smacked the board against the back of his head for good measure, where it promptly splintered into several pieces.  Erica turned and ran like hell, leaving Jake face down on the ground.

You arrived at the broken window moments later. “Insane,” Eddie said with a breathy chuckle, panting from running and adrenaline. “Did you just fucking kill him? Insane, Erica.”

“Let’s not wait around to find out,” she said.

“I can’t believe you guys are here,” you said, trying not to burst into tears. “How in the hell did you find me?”

Eddie linked his hands to boost you up into the window. “Just a few lucky guesses,” he said.

“Lucky? More like educated guesses. He should really go to detective school,” Erica laughed.

“Me? A cop? That’ll be the day,” he laughed, as he boosted you up. You scrambled up and out into the weeds, careful not to cut your palms on the broken glass that littered the area. Erica followed close behind, and you gave her a hand out of the window.

“Come onnnn Eddie,” you said, your anxiety at a new high. You didn’t know if Jake was dead, or just unconscious, but you really didn’t want to take any chances.

“I’m coming, I’m here,” he said, as he crawled up and out, and you helped him to his feet. He pulled you in for a tight hug. “Oh god, thank god you’re okay,” he said shakily. “I was so fucking scared.” He pulled away to look into your eyes. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m alright, Eddie,” you said. “I tried to trick him into thinking I was always on his side,” you said, and the three of you started speed-walking toward the gate, where Erica's car sat on the other side. “The fucker’s so stupid and narcissistic he actually believed it.”

“Jesus,” Erica said. “Good thinking.”

“I can’t believe that worked, but I’m really glad it did,” Eddie said, shaking his head.  He held open the busted corner of the chain link gate that he and Erica had entered through earlier. “After you,” he said to you both.

"Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” A voice shouted, a voice that you knew only too well, and it made your heart sink. You were halfway through the gate and you whipped your head around to see Jake staggering drunkenly toward you, his face and shoulders splattered with blood. The hand holding the gun hung at his side, but it was still clutched in his fingers.

“Oh my fucking god,” you cried.

Eddie turned and his eyes met yours. “Go,” he said. “Keep going. Run, and don’t look back.”

“Eddie,” you cried. “No, we have to go, come on!”

Eddie turned, and put his hands up. “Jake, man, put the gun down. It’s over.”

Jake said nothing, just spat bloody saliva on the ground as he came closer.”

Eddie took a couple of steps closer. “The cops are on the way,” he lied. “You don’t need to make this worse. Let’s call it a day.”

“Eddie, get away from him,” Erica hissed. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Jake asked, his speech slightly slurred, his attention momentarily shifted to Erica.

Eddie pounced.

You screamed, fighting with the fence to get back through, but without another person holding up the corner it was a tight squeeze.  Erica ran over to you to help as Eddie smashed Jake in the knee with his length of rebar, and then slammed into Jake like a battering ram. Jake howled in pain. He was bigger than Eddie, but he was hurt, which helped level the playing field.  Jake went down, sprawling backward in the weeds, but he quickly put up a foot and kicked Eddie off of him, who rolled off to the side. As Eddie scrambled to his feet, you started to run over to where the two men grappled for dominance, but the sound of a gunshot froze you in your tracks.

You looked down and didn’t see any blood on your body, and you didn’t feel any pain. Eddie’s wide eyes found yours as you looked at him. “Are you okay?” He asked, panicked.

“I’m not hit, I’m okay,” you said. Eddie nodded in response, taking in a deep, hitching sigh of relief.

“You motherfucker,” you growled, and ran straight over to where Jake lay in the weeds. He was struggling to sit up, but Eddie had likely shattered his left knee, and he floundered. He barely had time to react before you kicked him in the face as hard as you could.

His nose had definitely broken, and blood sprayed into the air, propelled by his violent exhalation of breath.

“You fucker,” you sobbed, and kicked Jake in the face again, and then a third time. “You tried to take everything from me,” you shrieked, and you kicked him again, this time in the balls, but he didn’t react; he was out cold. You reached down to where the gun had fallen out of his outstretched hand, and picked it up. “You deserve to die,” you hissed, and you pointed the gun at his face.

“No, Cassidy…don’t,” Eddie said, stopping you from pulling the trigger.

Jake was gurgling, and bubbles of blood and snot pulsed from his nostrils as tendrils of blood trickled from his lips and from various points on his scalp. Erica gently pried the gun from your fingers and pointed it at Jake.

“Try something, motherfucker,” she said.

You turned to Eddie, and he gave you a beaming smile from where he stood, swaying slightly, looking exhausted but otherwise unharmed. 

Then, as if in slow motion, you saw Eddie stagger backward, and it was only then that you noticed the spot of blood blooming on the front of his jacket. Suddenly everything else was far away; your hearing faded out, your vision tunneled. Nothing else mattered. He took one step  forward, and then slumped down into the patchy grass.

“NOOO!” You shrieked, closing the distance between the two of you in a second, falling to your knees by his side.

“Eddie,” you sobbed, patting him all over, looking for the entry wound. You pulled up his shirt and found it in his upper-left abdomen, just below his ribcage. His lifeblood flowed out of it, bright and red, staining everything it touched. You grabbed the bandana from Eddie’s back pocket and pressed it to the wound with shaking hands. 

“You’ll be fine, I juh-just have to s-stop the b-bleeding,” you stammered, sobbing.

“Eddie!” Erica shouted, the gun in her hand still pointed at Jake, who was not moving. “You better not die on me, you asshole!”

You could hear sirens approaching, the cavalry was about to arrive.

You picked up one of Eddie’s hands and twined his fingers with yours. You brought his knuckles to your mouth and brushed your lips against them, kissing them softly. You couldn’t stem your tears. “Stay with me, stay, please Eddie,” you cried.  “You came for me, you found me, I can’t lose you now, please, please.”

“I’ll always find you,” he said, smiling softly. His eyes were growing heavy, and they fluttered closed. 

“Eddie, NO!” you sobbed, but he’d gone quiet. “Eddie?” You shook him gently.

You couldn’t wake him.

EPILOGUE – TWO YEARS LATER

December 31, 1993

You stood with your toes burrowed into the warm white beach sand, letting the ocean breeze wash over you, lifting the strands of your hair and making your linen sundress flutter. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, smelling the salt and surf, hearing the waves. You gave yourself a moment to soak it in, letting all your senses be fully present.

You looked down at the old bandana clutched in your fist, slowly unfurling your fingers, letting the bloodstained cotton fabric bloom open as you relaxed your grip. You brushed away the tear that rolled down your cheek. 

Even though it hurt, you liked to remember the events of that terrifying week in Detroit two years ago, which culminated on that catastrophic New Years Eve. You liked to remember all that was found, all that was lost, and it helped you realize all that you had built and reclaimed. You ruminated on all that you had conquered, and all that you had overcome.

But it still hurt, it probably always would.

The arms that snaked around your torso startled you, making you jump and yelp softly.

“You scared me,” you said with a smile, leaning back against his chest.

“I know you enjoy your annual ritual,” Eddie said softly in your ear. “But don’t you think it’s just a little…morbid?”

You turned around fully to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was dressed in a dark blue t-shirt, slim jeans and simple black converse without socks. His beautiful skin was lightly tanned, his long curls tied up in a messy bun. Gone were the flannel shirts and knit wool caps of Detroit; Key West was where you called home now.

“I know you think it’s a silly little ritual,” you said, kissing him lightly on the lips. “But I like to think about everything we accomplished as the world burned down around us.”

“Yeah,” he said, smirking. “I suppose it was pretty badass. But you’re not the one who was shot.” 

You slipped your fingers up under his t-shirt, feeling the little scar. “If I could go back and take that bullet for you, I would,” you said softly.

“Whoa, hey now,” he said, grabbing your fingers and pulling them to his lips to kiss. “Let’s not go overboard. I’d rather die than see you take a bullet. Besides, I want the credit.” He smiled behind your fingers, his eyes glinting mischievously.

You looked down at the bandana in your hand, the blood long faded to a rusty brown. Eddie’s hand closed over yours, obscuring it from view.

“I think it’s time to let go of the past,” he said. “Jake’s going to be eating from a tube for the rest of his life, strapped to a bed. You and me, we’re great. Let’s look forward, okay?”

“Does that mean you’re ready to let go of what happened in Hawkins?” you replied.

Eddie thought for a moment, looking out at the sea. “I already have. I’ll never forget it, but I won’t be living in the past anymore.” He looked back down at you, and smiled. “I have you now.”

You nodded and opened your hand, letting the wind take the bandana, and you watched it float down toward the waves, flapping and twirling on the ocean breeze until it was out of sight.

“Litterbug,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

“You really know how to spoil a moment, Munson,” you said, but you couldn't help but laugh. You did actually feel a slight lifting of the spirit. Everything really was going to be okay.

You stood on your tiptoes and captured his lips in a kiss, one that started to turn heated pretty quickly.

“Hey!” a familiar voice bellowed from a short distance away. “Are you two idiots done making out? It’s New Year’s Eve! We’ve got customers!”

“Coming Tom,” you and Eddie said together, and started laughing.

You turned and started walking up the beach hand-in-hand toward Tom’s Beachside Cantina. It was going to be a busy night, after all.

THE END.

Author’s note: Thank you so much for reading this work. I hope you enjoyed reading it nearly half as much as I enjoyed creating it. This has been a true labor of love, and the first multichapter fic I have written in ten years! If I was going to come back to it for anyone, I'm glad it was for my beloved Eddie.

** As always, if you liked this, comments and reblogs are a treasure. Thank you so much!**

[le-amewzing]

Old Dog, New Tricks

Yet again, past seasons keep giving me feels. ;w; *Note: Set during s13e24, "Family First."

Fic: "Old Dog, New Tricks" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Tony DiNozzo (inclusion of some angsty Tiva things, so fine to tag with Tiva!) & Tali David–DiNozzo, with a cameo from Senior

Rating: K

Words: ~1,270

Additional info: family, light angst, fluff, 3rd person POV

Summary: Tony imagined a million futures with Ziva, but this never was one. -—Or, little Tali convinces her reluctant father that he's the only one for the job.

      "This is your daughter, Tony."

      Elbaz' words kept echoing in his head, even hours later.

      "We found her in the aftermath… Her name is 'Tali.'"

      Words and people's sympathies and the harsh realities of Ziva's case—and, ha, Ziva's case, which shouldn't exist—kept swirling around in Tony's head, a mini mental tornado of pressure that threatened to make him woozy. Tony sought out his armchair to sit, since there was no better place to steady himself here at home.

      Other footsteps echoed in his apartment, coming from the kitchen: a heavier shuffling and the light trot with which he wasn't yet familiar. Those footsteps drew near, and Senior cleared his throat. "Uh, Junior?"

      Tony didn't pick his head up. He rubbed that aching spot above his brow.

      His father continued anyway. "You're, ah, out of a few necessities. I thought I'd pop out and fill your fridge for you. I'll be right back, but." He didn't finish his thought. He patted something beside him.

      The next thing Tony knew, tiny Tali ambled into her father's line of sight.

      "Keep an eye on her, Junior. Kids get into everything," he added with a chuckle in his voice. But Senior didn't stick around for Tony to pipe up. He headed out, taking care not to let the door shut with its usual loud thud behind him.

      Senior's exit finally lured Tony somewhat into the present, and he peered down at his daughter. …he still couldn't get used to that word. Daughter.

      Gibbs had had a daughter.

      Ziva had been someone's daughter.

      Now Tony had a daughter. With Ziva. And he hadn't known of her existence until Orli Elbaz flew in from Israel to update NCIS on the status of their end of the investigation into the farmhouse attack.

      Tony locked eyes with Tali. He didn't yet know what to make of his two-year-old… Her hair was a light brown like his and her cheeks dimpled when she smiled, same as his did. But she'd only smiled while laughing at her toys and books in the conference room at NCIS while Elbaz briefed Vance, Tony, and Gibbs in the director's office.

      Those curls, dark eyes, and steady gaze—that was all Ziva David.

      Tony reached out and patted Tali's head, brushing a few stray curls back from her forehead.

      Tali leaned into the touch with a contented toddler smile. Then she turned those big baby browns on him and curled her pudgy hands in the fabric of his pants by his right knee. "Where Imah?" she asked.

      His heart twinged with a fresh pang of ache. The NCIS handbook and even his old Baltimore PD one contained detailed sections on making death notifications—but they didn't have sections covering informing your own family or breaking it to kids younger than five. "Imah's…not here right now," Tony settled on, forcing a tight grin to his face.

      Tali cocked her head to one side.

      Yeah, he probably wouldn't understand much at that age, either.

      She frowned and backed off with a pout. Tali glanced around the room, as if seeing it again for the first time and taking in the piano and the bowl with Kate the goldfish and the otherwise pristine living quarters. She turned around and scurried towards the vestibule.

      Tony sighed. He…was ill-prepared for this, to say the least. Yeah, so Ziva might've shown her Tony's picture so that Tali recognized him, and Tali wasn't so uncomfortable that she wouldn't approach him. But she was a shy child who spoke mostly Hebrew and broken bits of English.

      They'd known each other for hours and would be interrupted soon again once McGee called Tony with an update about Kort's whereabouts, but already father and daughter were struggling to bond. How the heck did anyone do this for eighteen years?

      Senior's reminder about children getting into trouble spurred Tony up out of his chair, though, and Tony rounded the corner, expecting to find Tali perhaps waiting for her grandfather by the door. Except she wasn't there.

      Tony stared at the door. No, the handle and locks were out of reach… He put the locks on anyway and checked that it hadn't been budged. He took a brief peek into the kitchen (empty) and then checked the bathroom and…ultimately, he found Tali on the floor in his bedroom, rifling through her meager bag of belongings.

      He leaned against the doorway while his panic subsided. Panic—Panic was something brief, fleeting, not meant to stay. The worries of parenthood? Those were permanent. It likely was why people tended to tackle parenthood in pairs.

      And that idea sparked a new concern, especially in conjunction with the thought of his father… Tony never had imagined himself a father, with or without Ziva. The history of the DiNozzo men was kind of a bad omen for it. Not only were they not exactly saints, but, though he loved his father, he was terrified of following in Senior's footsteps.

      And, so far, Tony was walking in them, grieving alone and meant to raise his kid by himself.

      And kids… Kids! Tony's personal track record with kids was awful. Whether it came to ex-girlfriends (or ex-fiancées, in Wendy's case) or even while working an investigation, Tony had zero social skills for the tiny people. The rest of the team made it look so easy. Gibbs was a natural, having been a father himself. McGee was part kid himself, with his love of videogames and tech. And even Ziva…kids they encountered during cases often found the Mossad ninja cool, but, then again, who didn't?

      At the thought of his late love, Tony pushed off the doorjamb and joined Tali on the floor, not disturbing her but wanting to be close anyway.

      …he wondered if maybe there were some parental instinct, deep down, he could rely on in lieu of skill or experience. Always, he'd been convinced that if Anthony DiNozzo, Jr., were a family man, then that family would be two people and no more than that. But it struck him now, being present with Tali as she triumphantly located a small photo album he'd mistaken earlier for one of her picture books, that maybe he wasn't completely off the mark.

      Of course a family could be two people…because Ziva was gone, and this little girl, Ziva's little girl, his—their—little girl needed a family.

      Tali whipped her head around and up, not surprised at all to find her father sitting beside her. She beamed at him and held the book up. "Abba! Imah, here!"

      Tony blinked back the fresh dampness in his eyes and offered Tali a smile. He took the book and cracked it open, stunned by the array of pictures Ziva had selected, since he was familiar with so many of them. "Yeah…yeah, Tali, Imah here."

      "Imah tofo!"

      That one made him smile genuinely for the first time since he'd heard about the farmhouse. If that little syllable reversal was any sort of hint of her future struggle with English words and idioms, then Tony knew he at least had plenty of experience to exercise in one area. "Imah's photo, Tali," he corrected. He tousled her hair and propped the photo album open on one knee.

      And Tali, sweet and shy thing, curled around his other, snuggling against him as if it were story time.

      Despite the constant reminders of Ziva and of his heartbreak, Tony decided in that moment that it didn't matter, his awful track record with kids. Tony was going to put in the effort for this family—his family.

      For Ziva as well as for Tali.

Done for the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #727: instincts) in the HPFC forum on FFN. SO. 8'D Anyone else's heart breaking, despite the good things we know about later seasons??? I wanted a snapshot of a bunch of things here: Tony's grief from then, his struggles with fatherhood being dropped on him, his concerns about being good enough for Tali. Originally my notes had this set after the team settled the score with Kort (which, don't get me started on that, bc I never liked the thread of turning Kort into a bad guy), but I changed it to during the investigation, bc I like the idea of Tony trying to bond with Tali early on. He needed this moment with her. :') Funnily enough, the inspo for this came not from s13 itself but from an earlier season (idr which ep), during one of numerous eps showing Tony's terrible social skills with kids. It's canon, and I do like how he tried to work on it in the series, but the poor guy! X'D I like to think he's doing a fine job raising Tali, tho. ;) …esp if she inherited her mother's speech patterns.

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

[anxietiefling]

no thoughts head empty only deirta thelyss headcanons aka it's WIP Wednesday my dudes

---

The day her moon cycles stop and the signs increase, she lays down in front of the house shrine, presses her forehead into the cold, polished stone and weeps quietly between the prayers tumbling from her lips.

Three lifetimes she had followed the paths in front of her, trying to open her mind to new tasks, new questions, new understanding. Three lifetimes her body had betrayed her in guiding another soul mote, another life into the Light, to usher along the imperfect souls the Luxon kept precious. Every step she had taken with such certainty only seemed to lead her further away from the grace of aiding in its Understanding.

Her knees ache as she lays on the stone floor, hand outstretched towards the twelve-sided emblem carved in pure white marble. She doesn't move. This body had been granted sanctity again. She would give it up whole to do the Light's bidding.

Only when, after what must be hours, the pangs of hunger and the pain of her dried-out throat become near unbearable, she begins to rise in increments.

This body has been accepted. This body has been deigned worthy. She cannot risk harm to it or the flicker of light inside her by extension.

Bit by bit she pulls herself upright, as far as her strained joints allow, before she rises from the ground. She raises her face towards the sky light in the chapel and feels the salt-streaks on her skin burn. It makes her smile.

Then she turns and leaves.

*

The Spider Queen is an unforgiving, vile and resentful being. Every child born out of the reach of her shadows is a further promise to her demise. The drow of Xhorhas know, and some of them remember. This is why, when pregenancies occur, there will be laments and mourning in the halls of the Dens; when an Umavi is suspected to be with child, the Lucid Bastion declares any word of it in public treason. What harm can be done if harm is already there? A child is a gift, and it is a curse. Every tear and every mourning face might just keep them safe a little longer until their arrival in this world. The Gods are spiteful; the drow of Xhorhas strive to match.

So when Deirta umavi den Thelyss gives birth to a boy on the 14th of Duscar 709 PD , there are no gifts and jubilations. In the cold hours of the early afternoon, she holds her son close to her and studies his small, unhappy face. And without a doubt she knows what name he will receive to ward off unwelcome attentions from above and from below. Her son is a gift. Her son will be a priceless Vessel. He is the beginning and the end after 437 years of desperate appeal, a newfound hope.

In Undercommon, eszak means worry. Deirta will make sure that Essek den Thelyss will give no reason for all but the opposite.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Heartbreak Ave.

When they’re in love with you but you have feelings for a different member (Hyung line)

→ tags/warnings: SFW, angstyyyyy (like, I’m sorry but at the same time I wanted to write something sad), no, there’s not a happy ending really idk so read at your own heart’s risk, but like really. I was listening to “Manos de Tijera” while writing this so it’s a wee bit heartbreaking

→ a/n: I don’t really write reactions very often but this seemed fun when @sierra-fics​ brought it up! I actually have one of your suggestions in my drafts, just haven’t finished it up yet. Thanks for the push, though! I love exploring different styles!

read the maknae line version here!

Kim Seokjin

he’s not surprised

it’s probably the worst part for him, the fact that he’s not surprised when your eyes light up as Taehyung waltzes in the room. 

he had been in the middle of plucking up the courage to invite you to try out that new Thai restaurant you’d been chattering about when Tae walked in

and you tried - you really did - to pay attention to what Jin had been saying, but you faltered a bit as Tae greeted you warmly and plopped down beside Jin

and Jin just watched, not surprised. 

although what does surprise him is how much it hurts

that pain where your heart literally, physically hurts? it’s an exquisite pain, one that takes his breath away

and it doesn’t go away

it doesn’t fade

so he ends up in Namjoon’s studio later that night, and Namjoon knows to wait for him to open up

Jin just stares for a while, blankly at the wall

“Does Tae like her?”

Namjoon already knows who he’s referring to. He’s known about Jin’s helpless crush on you for ages, he knew before Jin himself figured it out

but it’s the way that Jin asks the question so softly, so carefully, that Namjoon realizes with a start that this is so much more than a crush

and Jin looks at him, misery clear in his eyes but also clear resolve visible  even as unshed tears glimmer 

“Would you really let her go?” Namjoon counters gently. Because he knows. He knows that if Tae got the green light, you'd be swept up in a matter of seconds.

and it’s the way that Jin stares down at his feet, and the tears begin rolling down his cheeks, that has Namjoon sick to his stomach

Jin nods, and when he speaks, his voice shakes but he sounds so earnest that it breaks Namjoon’s heart

“I’d do anything for her.”

no words are exchanged after that for a long, heart-wrenching moment. it’s just Jin, staring down at his feet and quietly sobbing, and Namjoon, pulling him into an embrace. 

“I’m sorry, hyung.”

it’s surprising to Jin, just how much that soft phrase cuts through him. It sounds so final. 

because at the end of the day, it’s the only solace that can be offered to him. 

he lost. 

he loved, and he lost.

Min Yoongi

you’re sitting beside him in his studio when the realization hits him like a freight train

sprawled sideways in your designated swivel chair while you stifle a yawn and rub your eyes, Yoongi wonders when he let his emotions get so out of hand

because you’re offering him a shy smile and asking him a question that he numbly answers, but on the inside he’s a total clueless mess

when did he fall in love with you?

it’s something that will haunt him long after you leave that night, rushing out when you get a call from Hobi

for the second time that night, he’s hit with another realization

he’s still reeling from the fact that he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you, so when you gasp and grin when your phone light up with a call, he falters

it’s like being doused with a bucket of ice water, the way you whisper, “oh, it’s Hobi!” and politely ask if you can take the call before rushing out into the hallway

“oh,” he mumbles to himself as the door closes. “it’s Hobi.”

and he laughs. 

quietly, darkly. he laughs to himself, at himself, whatever. 

because of course it’s Hobi. his best friend, his vitamin. you two deserve each other. of that much he’s certain. 

he doesn’t waste too much time feeling sorry for himself; he’s logical enough to see that you two are probably a better match. it’s nothing personal.

so why does he stay in his studio all night, ignoring any calls or messages sent his way?

he’s not sure when he fell asleep, but next thing he knows he’s sprawled out on his little couch and you’re gently shaking him awake

“Yoongo? Did you stay here last night?”

his eyes crack open at the sound of your voice, just enough to be met with your sweet smile

and he, in his half-asleep state, smiles back. he reaches one hand up to gently brush back a strand of your hair, and he swears you lean into his touch

and when you mumble something about Hobi bringing breakfast up, Yoongi is hit with the third realization in less that twenty-four hours.

it’s startlingly simple: 

he wants to cry. 

so he excuses himself to the bathroom, and cries. sets a five minute timer so nobody gets worried and comes looking for him, and allows himself that time to cry. 

then, with machine-like precision, he washes his face and puts some eyedrops in, and goes back out to pretend like everything is fine.

and whenever Jin or Taehyung bring up acting, Yoongi knows. He knows, deep down, that he’s the best actor of all. 

because he still loves you

and you will never know.

Jung Hoseok

hobi has never been the most forthcoming with his emotions

he keeps them on lockdown

monitors them with military-like focus

so he knows the exact moment he begins developing feelings for you

(it’s when you brought Bang PD a bouquet for valentine’s day, just to make him blush)

and he knows the exact second when he fell in love

(it was when, after a grueling day at work, you silently walked through his door with his favorite goodies and left without a single word)

(you were wearing a yellow cardigan that day)

(he’s never looked at the color yellow the same way)

if he’s completely honest, he’s sometimes trying so hard to stay on top of his own feelings that he forgets to watch out for where your attention may be drifting

to be fair, you kept your own little crush on Jimin a secret

so when Hobi decides to get over himself and just shoot his shot, he decides he’s all in

and when you arrive at his apartment that night for a movie, you’re shocked to see a bouquet of yellow flowers in Hobi’s shaking hands

“hey” he breathes

you stare at the flowers, then at him

“hello...?” then, with a sinking felling, you point at the flowers. “are those for me?”

hobi smiles broadly. “yeah, they are.” and he hands them to you, allowing his fingers to brush up against yours 

it’s electrifying, that small touch

and again, he’s so focused on how electrifying it is that he misses the way you look like you might be sick

pale face, concerned expression

he misses it all, because he’s so nervous but so stupidly in love that he’s just barreling ahead.

gotta get this out of the way

ugh, feelings

and so when he leads you to sit with him out on the balcony, he takes a deep breath and looks at you with wonder in his eyes

and that’s when he notices the way you’re fiddling with your bracelet

not a problem, except for the fact that it’s the one he saw Jimin carefully choosing from an online collection

so when you keep fiddling with the bracelet and avoiding Hobi’s eye contact, he gets it

he takes a long look at all those emotions he keeps in check, and allows himself a moment of self-pity before reaching out and laying a hand atop your own

you immediately stop fidgeting and look at him with wide eyes. he can see with a pang how you’re trying to come up with the best way to let him down easy

so he does the job for you

“I just wanted to say thank you for the other day,” he says, forcing a light tone. “when you brought me those goodies after work. It really meant a lot.”

you blink, confused. “Oh. uh, you’re welcome.”

“and,” he drawls, a well-rehearsed smile clawing its way onto his face, “I wanted to snoop and get the inside scoop about Jiminie. I know he got you that bracelet. did he finally cave and confess to you?”

you look shocked, but you burst out into relieved laughter. “how did you know?”

he didn’t. “how could I not? he’s absolutely whipped.”

and you blush under the stars and begin to ramble, lost in your excitement and joy. 

and Hobi watches. smiling. supportive. laughing at the right spots and asking all the right questions. 

later, when you give him a tight hug and thank him for the fun night, he lets the words sting as you call him “such a great friend.” he lets them sting, relishing in the pain. 

he reminds you to take your flowers home, and you begrudgingly admit that they’re your favorite type of flower. 

he didn’t know. but that hurts, too. the fact that he got it right. 

Hobi never looks at the color yellow the same way again.

Kim Namjoon

he’s told you he loves you a million times now

every night, in every dream, he tells you how much he loves you

adores you with everything he is

you manage to find your way into his music, his musings, every piece of artwork he comes across

he's never been like this before

never, he’s sure of it

and everyone knows, except for you.

it becomes a strange game for the boys to play, dropping hints at every opportunity, laughing at your confused expression

Jungkook and Taehyung especially enjoy the chaos that they create, making Namjoon groan and grow embarrassed

but you have no idea

or are you just willfully ignorant?

all Namjoon knows is that he’s swimming in his feelings for you, completely lost and on the verge of drowning

but, oh, what a way to die

he’s never been able to stop himself when it comes to you

and he considers himself rather disciplined, but the way you make him feel he could throw caution to the wind and give it all up

so when you end up staying late one night at the apartment, the boys manage to convince you to stay

“there’s plenty of room” Jungkook muses, feigning deep thought. “besides, it’s too late for you to drive back tonight. just stay.”

and while Namjoon wants to kill them all for the way they offer up his bed to you, he thinks he might actually die when you reluctantly agree with a yawn

he knows he should offer to take the couch, but something stops him

it’s like he physically can’t

“I don’t mind sharing the bed” you state, squinting at him while wearing his basketball shorts and oversized t-shirt. 

you look adorable. he’s unsure of how he’s even functioning right now, to be honest. he’s melting.

“just keep your snoring in check, loser”

and he’s back to laughing, turning off the light and hopping into bed

you’re so far away

why are you so far away?

“hey” he whispers, the sound so loud in the quiet. the only other sound is the muffled voices of the other members, no doubt down in the kitchen gossiping about the events of the night

“hey yourself” you whisper back, turning to face him

he can see you in the moonlight, his eyes having adjusted just enough.

and he wants to kiss you so badly

so he smiles, heart leaping when you smile back

and he reaches out, gently tracing your jawline. 

you say nothing, heart thundering in your chest

because to be honest, you’re confused 

why is he looking at you like that?

but you don’t ask as Namjoon takes a deep breath, steadying himself before propping himself up on one elbow and looking down at you with an adoring expression

your eyes flutter closed as he brushes his thumb against your cheek, and he can feel your heartbeat racing

your reaction gives him all the courage he needs as he leans down, lips capturing your own in a long, sweet kiss

and he’s going out of his mind because he finally kissed you, didn’t he?! finally!! 

but those are your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling him in closer you’re gently pushing him away

“namjoon.”

he’s never hated his name so much.

“I’m so sorry- I- I thought that maybe-” he stutters, pulling himself upright as you do the same, and he launches out of bed, hands in his hair “I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”

“Namjoon.” you repeat, and he notices now how utterly distraught you look. 

because you’re still confused, but there’s one name rolling around in your head even as you can still taste namjoon on your lips. 

“I...” you shake your head, unsure of what to say. “It’s just...”

and he’s looking at you with big eyes, taking in every single word you say. and you want to take it all back, want to let him kiss you until you’re breathless, but your heart won’t let you. 

“Just what?” he asks quietly, afraid of the answer. so afraid

“...Jungkook.”

two syllables, and his world comes crashing down around him. 

namjoon is silent, avoiding your gaze as he grabs one of the pillows off of the bed and a spare blanket, heading toward the door. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch. I’m sorry.”

and he’s gone before you can utter another word. 

sure enough, the boys are still downstairs, and they all fall silent as Namjoon appears, throwing the pillow down on the couch. 

“Hyung!” Jungkook asks, scrambling over. “Hyung, what happened? What are you doing down here?”

Namjoon can’t bring himself to look at the maknae, not when he can still picture how it felt to kiss you. not when those few seconds of paradise are still on his lips. 

“Didn’t wanna wake her up with my snoring.”

because how could he ever be angry at the boy that looks at him like he’s his savior?

--

m.list || buy me an orange juice?

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so other people can read it! 💖

taglist: @baepsaetay​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @kookie-vuitton​ @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write​ @fangirl125reader​ @heishichoulevi@knjkitten​ @sacha-cff​ @vik7797  @eusticenatalie​ @hesmyphenominiall​@miriamxsworld​​ @kayahay​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @marianeamine​@hqtetsurou​ @protontippens​ @beginwithamin​ @limiworld​  @jeonyoongi-jimin @buttvi​ @yoontaethings​ @sunshinejunghoseokie​ @delacyrose224​@jiminiesmagicshop​ @hitsussi @fanfictonreader05 @hyungieyoongi​ @lolalee24​

all rights reserved © alpacaparkaseok

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Three: Anosognosia

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): drinking, drunkenness, light smut, sex dream, implications of oral sex, obsessive behavior from an ex, unhealthy relationship dynamic (not on part of Yoongi & OC)

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Notes: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad between 2018 and the beginning of 2020. I’ll be slowly posting the chapters here. I may make a tag list depending on if enough people want to follow along with updates. Leave me some feedback if you would like added to a tag list.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

Yoongi saw the look in your eyes shift from soft curiosity to sheer panic. He felt the pit of his stomach fill with guilt. He shouldn't have slept with you; sure, the two of you would still have this problem, but no one would've had reason to find your shoes. You wouldn't have had reason to leave them behind. 

He'd felt betrayed, he'd felt lonely, he'd felt unloved by those he wanted to love him most. But, that was no excuse to sleep with the first attractive girl he found. 

"Have you told Bang PD yet?" Namjoon asked, his demeanor calm, but Yoongi could see the slight shock cross over his features, causing his thick lips to pout and his chin to jut out. 

Yoongi shook his head.

"I'll call him," Namjoon said. The leader placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He blocked Yoongi's view of you. He worried in those few seconds you were blocked from his view that you would collapse into Namjoon's chest and cry the tears meant for him. The tears because of him. 

Namjoon left the room, leaving Yoongi alone with you. He tried his best not to focus on the way your tank top hugged your chest and exposed the hickeys he'd left the night before and that Namjoon probably noticed it too.

"You look tired," Yoongi said. "We can't do anything until tomorrow anyway. Try and get some sleep."

You nodded and Yoongi wasn't sure if you were just trying to reassure him or yourself. He remembered the way you'd fallen asleep long before he did. The way you'd fit against his body; how it felt like two puzzle pieces joining together for the first time. He blinked away the thoughts and tried to focus back down on your eyes. 

"We'll pay them off," Yoongi said. "We'll make sure nothing comes of this."

---

Jihee (9:00 am): Are you all right?

Jihee (9:05 am): I heard you're in the hospital

Jihee (10:01 am): None of your members are texting me back

Jihee (12:31 pm): Baby, the news is reporting something about your soulmate? What happened last night?

Jihee (2:43 pm): Yoongi! Please respond to me! I'm worried

Jihee (5:12 pm): Yoongi...what I did last night...what happened was all a mistake...

Jihee (5:12 pm): I still love you

Jihee (6:00 pm): The news said you were released hours ago! Respond to me!

Jihee (8:20 pm): Yoongi, I miss you

Jihee (9:30 pm): I know I don't deserve you. But, please just tell me you're okay

Jihee (11:50 pm): Goodnight. Love you.

---

"Baby," you moaned. Your hands slipping beneath Yoongi's shirt. They were cold, but he still loved the way they moved over his stomach and chest. Your fingertips grazing over his skin, a fingernail occasionally catching and causing him to squirm.

His hands were in your hair, messing it up and causing it to form mountain ranges as his fingers hiked the peaks and valleys. He loved the way it felt between his fingers, soft and light. 

Your lips moved from his and down to his neck where your lipstick stained his skin. He kept his grip on your hair, feeling it tug slightly as you move downward. He helped you slip his shirt off as your lips connected with his chest. 

"You don't have--"

You silenced him by tugging on the waistband of his jeans and rubbing your thumb over the button, teasing him slightly. 

"I want to," you responded, unbuttoning his jeans. 

Yoongi tightened his grip on your hair, trying not to focus on the way your lipstick was smeared above your lips. He could already imagine the way they'd look...

His head lulled back and his fingers loosened. 

---

Yoongi awoke. He was covered in sweat and ran his hand through his hair. He glanced down at his phone: 6:41 am. He sighed and headed to the bathroom. 

He slapped himself softly, trying to stop the thoughts that continued to cross his mind. He didn't have feelings for you, it was simply lingering from he slept with you. Nothing else. 

He wasn't going to deny he was attracted to you, he wouldn't have gone back to your apartment otherwise, but he felt nothing romantically for you. Yoongi knew the attraction would continue and probably only get worse, but he had to fight it. The last thing he wanted to do was break either of hearts more than they already were. 

Yoongi turned on the shower, the water colder than usual.

---

You stood in Yoongi's studio where he kept his computer. You'd suppressed your laughter at the ridiculous amount of hoops you'd had to jump through in order to enter. A doorbell, black curtain, and two doors. You respected the fact he took his work seriously though. The wall full of awards and trophies he'd won, a few even separate from BTS.

There was a couch in the corner, but you were too anxious to sit. You just wanted your shoes back and whoever took them to get their money and leave you alone. You were thankful your name hadn't been released and the only other person who knew the full truth was Eunji.

"There's many of us trying," Yoongi said. "Me, Namjoon, our managers, other people at the company. One of us will get them." 

You nodded and watched as the countdown on the auction neared two minutes to the end. There weren't many bids, but the shoes were somehow already over 300,000 won ($276 USD). You'd brought your knitting needles and some yarn and mindlessly knitted.

"What are you making?" Yoongi asked, a small smile breaking out across his lips. It was tiny and barely recognizable. You weren't sure if he pitied you or if simply trying to break the tension. 

"Nothing in particular," you said. "I just need something to keep me busy." 

Normally, when you went in without a plan, it turned out as a scarf. You bit you lip as the timer hit a minute. 

Yoongi saw your gaze shift to his screen and he readied to enter his bid as close to the end as he could. He entered one million won ($920.00 USD) and hovered his finger over the enter button. 

"That's too much!" you said. 

"No one will outbid it."

"I know," you said. "But I feel bad. I shouldn't have forgotten them in the first place." 

The timer hit twenty seconds. Ten seconds. Yoongi waited just a few more seconds wanting to time it just right. 

You heard a scream and a crash and almost simultaneously an error message appeared on Yoongi's computer. Please connect to Wi-Fi.

"Shit," Yoongi said. "Jimin!"

You followed Yoongi to the living room, leaving the partially started scarf behind. You saw Jimin and Jungkook crowded around the router working to connect the cord back into it. 

"Did you trip over it again?" Yoongi asked, his voice breathy and exasperated. 

"Sorry," he said. "I'm not used to it." 

Yoongi sighed and turned back to you. His dark eyes looked down at you apologetically and he sat down on the couch, pulling out his phone. 

"I'll try and see if I can see who won." 

---

"It looks like they're going to have to come out and fix it," Namjoon said, hanging up the phone. "We won't have internet until then." 

The members groaned. 

Jungkook walked into the kitchen and brought back a case of beer, a smirk plastered on his face. 

"Let's play a game," he said. "To welcome Sumi to the dorm."

"What game?" Namjoon asked. 

"Answer or drink," he said. "On your turn, someone asks you a question and if you don't want to answer it, you have to drink." 

Everyone agreed and sat in a circle. Yoongi sat on one side of you and Hoseok on the other side. Your knee brushed Yoongi's and you felt a small pang in your chest as you pulled away.

"All right, we'll go in order of age. Jin, you're up first." 

You didn't really pay attention to the questions. You'd fall somewhere towards the end. Between Jungkook and Taehyung. 

Jin answered the question. He didn't seem like the type to be embarrassed easily, a quality you admired in the eldest. 

---

"Yoongi," Jungkook said. "Your turn."

The room stayed silent. No one had a question for the boy and he couldn't help but smirk slightly. However, Taehyung meekly raised his hand. 

"What happened with Jihee?"

Yoongi cussed to himself. He knew she had been texting the other members about him. The other members would always consult him first before telling her anything when it was obvious he wasn't talking to her. 

"She cheated," Yoongi answered simply. 

The other boys' eyes widened and they nodded. However, it wasn't their gazes Yoongi felt boring into him. It was yours. He could feel your eyes staring at his profile. 

Yoongi had been careful the night he met you. He managed not even to tell you his name. He'd only mentioned he'd recently gotten out of a relationship. He figured you didn't need to hear his sob story. Besides, he planned on keeping Jihee's betrayal a secret. Just as she wanted. The only people he could trust with the truth were his members. 

But, you deserved to know the truth. It was unfair to keep you completely at a distance, especially when he'd overheard everything about your ex.

Yoongi noticed you drinking, you'd already cracked open another can by the time it got Namjoon. He felt a twinge in his chest. Yoongi quickly suppressed it, your drinking habits were none of his business. And based on the way Eunji talked the night at the bar, it didn't sound like you drank much. Only when your heart was broken.

"Sumi," Jungkook said. "Your turn." 

Again, the room fell silent. No one knew Sumi well enough to ask her such a personal question. But, then again, everyone was tipsy, or in a few cases, already drunk. 

"How's Yoongi in bed?" 

Everyone except for Yoongi and you laughed. 

"Seriously?" Yoongi asked. 

He knew it was the alcohol that asked the question, but it was still inappropriate. He didn't want you to have to drink. Your eyes were glazed and your cheeks rosy. 

Yoongi reached over and drank for you, crumpling the can when he finished. 

"Move on," he said. "It should be your turn, right, Jungkook?"

"Wait," you said. "I didn't answer." 

Everyone turned to look at you. It was obvious you were too drunk to notice that Yoongi had technically already drank for you. 

"He's good," you answered. "Better than my ex and I hate that cause..." 

You drifted off not noticing the seven stunned faces staring at you.Your words slurred, but they hung in the room. Your eyelids drooped and your head lulled forward into your chest. 

"I think it's time for bed," Namjoon said, standing up and helping you stand. He threw an arm around you and led you down the hall towards your bedroom. 

Despite the fact that the situation was perfectly appropriate, Yoongi still felt a small pang of jealousy. He knew he shouldn't and that it was all the soulmates thing, but that didn't stop his fists from clenching. 

"She probably won't remember this in the morning," Yoongi said. "Don't remind her."

Yoongi swallowed the rest of his drink and left the room on the pretenses of being sleepy--which he was--but he also didn't want anyone to see the blush come to his cheeks. 

---

You awoke the next morning with the worst headache you'd ever had. You clutched your forehead and glanced at the time: 10:30 am. You sighed. 

You spotted your knitting things from yesterday placed on top of the dresser. You didn't remember fetching them from Yoongi's studio, but then again, you barely remembered anything after Jimin knocked the Wi-fi out. 

"All I drank was beer," you muttered to yourself. 

You weren't known for being a lightweight causing you to wonder just how much you'd drank the night before.

As you squirmed you felt something soft move in the crook of your arm. You looked down and saw Kitty. You smiled at the stuffed cat and her droopy eye. 

[anotheronechicagobog]

Rangers, Lead The Way - Chapter 2 - Jay and Hana

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, cannon typical violence, jealousy, abandonment

When Jay had gotten a call from Kenny at three-thirty in the morning he didn't exactly know what to expect. Sure, he could have called because someone died, but he could've also called because he wanted to debate the pronunciation of 'avocado' (something he'd already done twice). So when Kenny's name flashed across his phone screen he just took a deep breath and went to the hallway, leaving a sleeping Hailey alone in bed. "Halstead."

"Hana got shot."

"What? Hana? Your Hana?"

"Yeah- it was a fugitive. She- she's fine. Shot in the foot. She was on leave for a bit, stayed with her parents, but now she's on desk duty. She was going to be with us, but apparently, she was helping the cyber division track some hackers, and they're connected to an organized crime group in Chicago. And she's going to be working with the unit that's been conducting the investigation into that organization. Your unit."

"Yeah, we were told that an FBI cyber analyst was coming down to work with us but they didn't tell us who. Okay, well, she'll be perfectly safe. Our tech room is in the basement with secure entrances, and I'll see if I can get either myself or Hailey assigned to work with her."

"Thanks man, you have no idea how much this means to me."

"Actually I do, remember?"

"Yeah, any advice on how to get through it?"

"I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna be hell, but you'll just have to hang in there and trust me."

"Okay."

"... So I'll finally get to meet Hana..."

"Yeah, I'm hanging up now. Bye."

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"Everyone, meet special agent Hana Gibson from the FBI. She's the tech specialist here to help us out with the Anderson family. Play nice." After his... Enthusiastic introduction, Voight walked back into his office and shut the door. "Hi, I'm detective Jay Halstead and this is my partner Detective Hailey Upton, it's nice to meet you. I can show you where you'll be working if you want?"

"That would be great." Jay moved to the desk by the stairs. "Okay, this desk is just like ours, older than our boss and with a PC on it. The tech room is downstairs, this is mostly for basic searches and so that the tech expert can be with the group when we debrief and work the board and the like. The stairs over here take you down to the garage which is where the tech room is. The stairs are old so they creak a lot but don't worry, they're perfectly safe."

"Sorry to interrupt, but is that a cage?"

"Yes, but don't worry, we don't use it. It's from the old guard, you know, when cops were assaulting people for no reason and no one would say anything. At least now people are talking about it."

"I sense a 'but'."

"But... I wish that cops who were still like that actually got arrested, or never made it out of the academy."

"You and me both."

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"Okay, so the Anderson family has been selling legit products online but then stealing and selling the credit card info, they've been covering their tracks pretty well up until now. That means that something changed. What that is could be key to catching all, and I mean all, of them. Work your CI's, talk to victims, flip some people. Figure out what it is." The team nodded and turned to their partners to figure out their next move.

"Should we head out to Cook County? There's an inmate there connected to the Anderson's, right? Maybe they could give us something."

"Actually, I was thinking maybe I could head out there with Ruzek and you could stay with Gibson because you found their online pattern and figured out which products and websites were theirs. Maybe you two could find more together."

"Sure, that sounds okay but, we're good, right?"

"Of course we are, we'll always be good. I just think this will be best for the case, plus you have the most experience working with the FBI, and her being here has put Voight on edge which has put everyone else on edge."

"Good point, I'll see you later." His eyes followed her until he couldn't see her anymore and he let out a breath, it was different this time. Last time, when Hailey hadn't been here, OA had kept an eye on her but his partner wasn't there so that made it a bit easier, but Hailey was here and now so was Hana. It would take some finessing to have both of their backs but he figured if they were in the same place it would be a little easier. "Halstead? You ready to head out?"

"Yeah, let's go."

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Cook County was as unpleasant as always. Angry convicts yelling at them through their cells that they wanted to slit his throat. Lovely. But that wasn't what got to him. Leonard Mitchell, the man they were there to see, wouldn't say anything helpful. He wasn't even threatening them or insulting them, he was just asking "where the smoking blonde from last time was". It was taking an enormous amount of restraint to keep him from jumping across the table and tackling the guy. "You're here for hacking the Chicago Municipal Courts website and unsealing confidential information. You're in the high-security ward and have more restricted access to places in the prison than most inmates. You don't have much going for you, maybe if you give us some information we can help you out."

"That's a joke, I'm not saying anything to either of you. Now that blonde, get her to show up for a conjugal visit, then maybe I'll consider it."

"Okay! So, we're done talking, we're going to search your cell and work station now, and you know what, because you have been so unpleasant to deal with today, we're also going to search the cells and workstations near you. Have fun explaining to your neighbours why their contraband got carted off by Chicago PD." Jay marched out of the interrogation room before he lost his cool even more than he already had. He gestured for the warden to get some guards together to start the search. He took a deep breath to try and calm down. "Hey Halstead, are you okay? I mean, what he said about Upton..."

"I'm fine. I don't like hearing anyone talk about my partner that way, but I'm fine."

"Really? Cause the stuff he said was pretty..."

"She's back at the station with Gibson in probably the most secure room there, far, far away from that perv. And if she's okay, I'm okay."

"You should ask her out. I mean, I know it might be weird considering I'm her ex, but you're so far gone on her it's ridiculous and I think that you'd make a cute couple. Think about it, man"

"Uh, yeah. I'll think about it, come on, let's go see if the warden's ready for the searches." Jay's heart was pounding and he felt like he'd just jumped out of the way of a moving train. Nobody knew about them yet, but they were all criminal investigators surely they'd picked up that at least something was different.

They searched Mitchell's room and found a burner phone... Behind his toilet. "Man, I am so glad I don't have to touch that thing. That's Upton and Gibson's job."

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"So I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is, we found a cell phone. The bad news is, it was behind his toilet."

"How lovely."

"Well, you can thank Leonard Mitchell for that. Hey, how's it been working with Gibson?"

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seem really interested in her, that's all. Do I need to be worried?"

"No, I just want to make sure that she feels welcome and won't give us a bad review to the FBI."

"I know what you look like when you're lying, Jay."

"Hailey..."

"Just... Go back upstairs, Jay."

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"How's everything going?"

"Other than the fact that I'm in the doghouse, good."

"What'd you do?"

"I was a little too protective of Hana, I guess. Hailey picked up on it and I couldn't exactly explain without blowing our cover."

"That sucks, man. I'm sorry but honestly, it sounds like you were gonna end up sleeping on the couch either way."

"Yeah, how are you? You holding up alright with Hana gone?"

"No. You were right, this is hell. I keep looking around to make sure she's covered or to offer to get her that terrible coffee she likes and then she's not there and it feels like whiplash." Jay could practically feel himself sharing the weight on Kenny's shoulders. "It doesn't get any easier, it actually gets a lot harder, but she won't be here forever. She'll be home soon and you'll be able to breathe again."

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Hailey was still giving him the cold shoulder when he went around to take lunch orders. She was curt "my usual" before turning back to her computer screen and completely ignoring him. He did what he could to not let the pang in his chest play out on his face but from the way Hana looked at him it was obvious, he'd failed. "What about you Gibson? Do you need a copy of their menu?"

"No, that's okay, I looked it up. I'll get the spicy shrimp pad thai."

"You got it." He was about to leave when Hana gestured for him to lean down close to her. "Just apologize for whatever you did, it'll go a long way. She's been off since you dropped off the cell phone." He wanted to say something, explain that he was just caught between a rock and a hard place, but the words were trapped in his throat. Hana sent him a I-know-what-I'm-talking-about-if-you-don't-listen-to-me-you're-probably-going-to-regret-it look and all he could do was allow his shoulders to slump and nod.

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The intense silence of the bullpen was interrupted by Hailey entering behind Hana, who looked incredibly confident on her crutches. "We got something off of the phone." Hailey moved to the board with some papers as Hana plopped down into the office chair at her temporary desk. "It took a while to crack some of the files but I got it. They're transactions between an off-shore account and a shell company based out of Arkansas. While the account was set up there, it's been used mostly in New York, Washington DC, and Chicago. The most recent transaction was for 85K."

"Hana and I also found some emails with photos of military-grade weapons. Guns, missiles, and grenades. Mitchell isn't the buyer or the seller, it looks like he's mediating between the two. We don't have an ID on the buyer yet, but we have one on the seller. Lori Anderson, member of the Anderson crime family. Got no idea what they're planning, but the Anderson's were particularly interested in armour-piercing weapons and rocket launchers. And two days ago she asked Mitchell if he could put her in contact with an explosives supplier. We need to talk to organized crime, both from CPD and FBI, this looks bad. There are still files and emails that we have to go through, and his calendar makes no sense it's all in code. It's probably pretty important because he was in prison and couldn't actually go anywhere. We're also still combing through the contraband from the other cells just to make sure none of his neighbours were also involved."

"Alright. Upton, Gibson, good work. Keep at the phone. Atwater and Burgess you two talk to organized crime, see what you can dig up and alert them of our discoveries. Ruzek and Halstead, flip any CIs you've got. We need to get ahead of whatever they're planning."

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They were supposed to be safe. They were supposed to be safe. They were in the precinct, they were surrounded by on-duty cops, there was another detective unit across from Intelligence, Platt was at the front desk, Hank-don't-you-even fucking-dare-Voight was in his office. They were supposed to be safe. But they weren't.

They'd just left one of Adam's CIs twitching in excitement down the street as he counted his money when they got the call over the radio.

"10-1! 10-1! Shots fired at police at 21st district! We're pinned down!" They had a moment of stunned silence together before they hauled ass to Jay's truck and high-tailed it back to the district, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Jay's body was moving on autopilot, which probably wasn't good considering he was speeding in a large vehicle down busy roads, the only thing that was going to calm him down, that would quell and panic and rage bubbling up in was seeing Hailey alive. He would move heaven and earth to make that a reality.

Pulling up at the district he vaguely remembered he had to look out for Hana too, but lord help him, and whoever stood in his way, if he didn't see blonde hair and blue eyes attached to the fiery woman who held his heart.

The lobby reminded Jay of Kandahar, there were bullet holes lining every vertical surface. Blood pooled under the bodies of the injured. He did a quick sweep of the room, finding nothing but injured cops and civilians, none of whom were Hailey or Hana, or the attackers. The door to intelligence hung open, barely attached at the hinges. "They went up to intelligence! Move your asses!" Platt didn't spare them a second glance as she went back to ordering the remaining able-bodied patrol officers around.

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"Kim!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay."

"We're okay too, just so you know."

"Where did they go, Kev? What happened?"

"They went down to the garage-" Jay didn't have it in him to finish listening, he just ran, gun raised. "Hailey! Hana!" It was bad enough that he might lose Hailey, the woman he loved more than anything, but losing Hana too? He wouldn't be able to look Kenny in the eye ever again.

"We're over here!"

"We're okay!"

And then he could breathe again. Oh thank god, she's safe, Hailey's safe. She's mad at me but she's safe... Does my heart always pound this fast when I'm not with her and I'm just noticing now? No, it's probably adrenaline because... I almost lost her. But I didn't. They were tucked into separate corners of the tech office, Hailey, covered in blood that she immediately indicated wasn't hers, was armed with her Glock and Hana armed with her crutches. There were five men in black tactical gear with ski masks lying in various positions on the floor. Four had obvious non-lethal bullet wounds, a courtesy from Hailey, and the fifth was still moving and being hit repeatedly by Hana with one of her crutches. "Stop. Moving. Already. You. Ass!" Jay would've been more impressed if he wasn't still coming down from the adrenaline. "Thank god. You're both okay? Hailey?"

"We're fine."

"Hails-"

"We're fine, just help guide the ambos here, please?"

"...Okay." God, he could feel his heart start to splinter. Less than a minute ago he'd thought that his world had been savagely destroyed, but now... All he wanted was to hold her and it only made him ache more when she pushed him away. He just walked over to the garage door to allow the paramedics easier access, only his footsteps and groans of pain coming from the goons kept the room from being dismally silent.

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

"She's completely fine, so before you freak out just know that she's in the exact same shape she arrived here in."

"That is a terrible way to start a phone call Halstead! Was that supposed to calm me down or help in some way? What even happened?"

"The Genna's hired some local weapons enthusiasts the bust into our precinct and steal what we knew about them. They trashed our bulletin board and tried to get to the computers in the tech room but Hailey and Hana whooped their asses. When I got there Hana was actually beating one with one of her crutches. Hana's a badass."

"Damn right she is... But she's okay?"

"She's pissed off, but there's not a scratch on her."

"Good... That's really good."

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"Hailey?" Jay knocked again, using every last thread of hope he had that she'd answer. It didn't matter that she was still upset with him, he just wanted to see her face. She and Hana had been whisked away by the FBI and IA right after the ambulances picked up the hired help. He just wanted to see her for more than thirty seconds, reassure himself that she was okay and that she still loved him. That he could fix everything, that he would at least get to hold her one last time. "Hailey, please open the door." He was only met with soul-crushing silence. "Please."

The relief he felt when the lock turned and the door opened could not be described. "Hana is inside if you want to talk to her."

"I'm here for you, Hails. Please, just... Talk to me. I love you, I love you more than I ever thought possible to love someone and today I found you hunched over, covered in blood. It doesn't matter that the blood didn't end up being yours. I was- I still am- terrified. I could have lost you today and I don't know how to face that. Can I just have a hug, at least, please? I just- I can't-" And then she was wrapping her arms around his waist, her tired gravity pulling him to her. He honestly considered being able to wrap his arms around her in return, and burying his face into her hair a gift from the gods. "I was so glad that you weren't there, because it means you weren't getting shot at, I've had to deal with you getting shot more than enough times, I couldn't deal with it again, Jay. I... I love you too." Jay didn't know how much longer they stayed like that, enveloping each other, but he cherished every second of it. And when they finally parted it was like coming down from an adrenaline high. "Do you want to come in? We were about to order from Bartoli's."

"I would love that."

"Good, cause we've left Hana waiting for a while."

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

"So, now I get to have the legendary deep-dish pizza, huh?"

"Yep. Best damn pizza in the world."

"Damn straight."

"You know, I think you two are a little biased."

"You sound like the partner I had while I was in the FBI, OA Zidan, he was always riding me about my opinion on pizza." Jay froze. He could feel himself freeze up. He could feel Hailey and Hana eyeing him in confusion. Shit. "What is it, Jay?"

"Sorry, I just don't like remembering that my partner was away from me for so long, and had another partner in that time period."

"Really, Halstead? You don't need to get all territorial, Hailey clearly doesn't want to be anywhere but with you. Seriously, you should have seen her when the FBI and IA showed up-"

"Hana!"

"What? He's the one who got all stiff when you brought up the FBI"

Phew, they didn't know, thank heavens.

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Everyone was back the next day, ready to keep moving, to catch the people who organized the break-in of their precinct which injured twenty-three and killed four. It was bad enough that they'd tried to bust into Intelligence in the first place, but to hurt innocent people in the process? That was just plain wicked.

Hailey and Hana were working side by side, delving into the cyber goings on of the Genna family, Kim and Kevin were working with the crime lab to analyse the precinct, and Jay and Adam were back to flipping CIs. Jay felt better about where things stood with Hailey, but he was still grumpy that he couldn't be in the temporary bullpen with her today. He knew that she was capable and that she didn't need him to hover, but that didn't make being away from her after she was almost killed any less difficult. They were supposed to be in the most secure place in the precinct, how were any of them supposed to feel safe working in a place that had been breached by mercenaries in only a few minutes? He tried to shake off the worry and fear, but he just couldn't. And it was made worse by the fact that it wasn't only Hailey who had been in danger- Hana was too. And Kenny had already lost so many people that he really didn't know how he would've handled that situation. Having to tell one of his best friends that the woman he was in love with was dead while dealing with the exact same senario.

The second last CI on their list had been dodging them all day, and Jay's sanity was already hanging on by a thread- he did not have the strength or patience to deal with this. So instead of trying to track him down again, he just put out a BOLO and waited until patrol brought him in, kicking and screaming. When he entered the interrogation room Marcus went on a tirade, "what the FUCK, man!", "we had a deal!", "are these handcuffs really necessary?". Jay just stared at him. He didn't have the energy to try and get the guy to shut the fuck up, so he just sat silently across from him, trying to make him as uncomfortable as possible. "... Are you okay, man?"

"No, not really, Marcus. See, I've been calling you all day. I've called up other CIs and they were all okay to meet. But not you. No, you ghosted me and I had to get patrol to drag your ass in here. You still have robbery charges I could lay on you. This is about to get a whole lot worse because I have exactly no patience to deal with any BS right now, but yours especially. So. The Genna family. Tell me everything you know."

And he did. He sang like a damn canary, which Jay attributed to luck, and Adam attributed to Jay looking like he was going to tear the poor bastard limb from limb. Seriously. Adam made a mental note not to piss off Jay, which he subconsciously realizes means that as long as he didn't hurt Hailey he'd be fine. But he didn't have time to dwell on that as Jay exited the interrogation room looking like the leprechaun at the end of the rainbow. "I've gotta get this to the girls, you're not gonna believe what this bastard knew."

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An apartment, down in Canaryville, was occupied by Daniel Anderson's mistress. And she wasn't just his mistress... She was his accountant. She didn't just file his taxes, she managed his money, she knew everything that it was used for and how they got it in the first place. Jay ran to the temporary tech room ready to drop a bomb, only for his fiery girlfriend to beat him to it. "We found out where they got the weapons and ammo! The navy didn't put out a report until they'd finished their investigation, but it's their stuff. It all came from Norfolk, but they were shipping it to Kandahar when they were robbed by a twelve-person team, well-skilled and heavily armed. But look at this surveillance video, where part of the leader's sleeve got torn off."

"That's... That's Daniel Anderson. He's got that tattoo. We can get a warrant with that, but what about this- Daniel has a mistress in an apartment in Canaryville. She's his accountant, she knows everything. And if we can get a warrant with what you found, we can search that apartment too because it's in his name." Hailey smiled that vindicated smile that just lit up her whole face and made her eyes shine with pride. Jay could feel himself mirroring her and he just couldn't look away, finally feeling like they got their groove back, their relationship back. "Hey guys? I'm glad you made up but can you either get to work or get a room? I don't need  a front seat to this."

"Oh, admit it Gibson, we're your OTP."

"I admit to nothing, Halstead."

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Honestly, the raid of all of Daniel Anderson's properties, and consequently the collapse of the Anderson crime family, was dismally anti-climactic. They found boat-loads of evidence, Daniel's wife, mistress, and right-hand man all turned on him, and the FBI and NCIS were currently fighting over jurisdiction even though the case was already solved... By the CPD. Truthfully no one minded, because it meant that once they submitted their case notes and raid reports, they were done and might not even have to go to trial, the feds could handle that. While the majority of Intelligence decided to go to the regular watering hole, Hailey and Hana had made other plans and were dragging Jay along for the ride. And it was all going well, until they started talking about roommates. "I like Zadie, but she's gotten annoying now that she's dating my partner. So has he honestly. I mean, who thought that Kenny Crosby, an ex-army ranger would be acting like a thirteen-year-old that was in his first relationship? 'Is that text from Zadie? Is it about me? Were you guys talking about me while you were in the kitchen together this morning?' He was It's... A little exhausting. All he can talk about, is her. And whenever we hang out it always involves her somehow. He won't say it but I know he was a little disappointed when I came back and interrupted their 'love nest." All that Jay was able to gain from that other than the echo of sadness from behind her eyes, was that Crosby was dating someone who was not Hana. Which would be weird if he talked about her constantly on the phone, which he does, have an intimately trusting relationship with her, which he does, and ask one of his old army buddies to keep an eye on her while he can't because he cares about her so much and can't bear to lose her, which he did. So in conclusion; the fact that Kenny is dating someone who is not Hana is weird and will require further investigation.

"So he's constantly asking you about his girlfriend?"

"Well, she is too. But it's more annoying with him because he's my partner, we work together."

"But you live with her."

"It's... It's just different." Jay could see that she was mentally grasping at threads while trying to keep herself from falling into a black hole, this clearly meant much more to her than she was letting on so he decided to drop it. It was good timing too, because Hailey returned to the table with their food. Hair up, with a cute little Greece-themed apron on, ignoring her older brother's teasing from the kitchen. "Σκασε ηλιθιε!" (shut up idiot!)

"Μην μου πεις να σταματήσω, αυτό είναι το εστιατόριο μου!" (Don't tell me to shut up, this is my restaurant!) Jay found himself chucking at the Upton sibling banter. They interacted a lot less than he and Will did, though he supposed part of that was because he and his brother ran into each other through their work fairly often, and it was nice to see them... Happy with one another. Hailey usually looked like a constipated pigeon whenever she talked about her family so it was nice that she had reconciled with at least one sibling. After they were all able to move out, their relationships with each other got much more contentious. Theodore was the middle child and believed that they should quietly encourage their mother to leave their abusive father and just silently support her, Declan was the oldest and quite firmly just didn't care about their parents anymore and wanted nothing to with either of them because one was the abuser and the other was the enabler, while Hailey was the youngest and wanted to drag her father to prison by his ear herself. "Your brother seems like quite the joker."

"Oh, he is. He's always been the comedian in the family, a bit of a cross between SpongeBob and Chandler Bing. When I was seven, Theo put these gummy spiders in random places all over the house. It scared the crap out of my dad when he opened the- a top kitchen cupboard and about twelve of these spiders fell out, scared him even more when Theo grabbed one off the floor and bit into it, I think he ate three in total, one was completely whole, talking about how 'tasty' they were before my dad needed to sit down. It took him longer than he will ever admit to realize that they were just candy."

"Oh, that is good. I used to use some of those YouTube jump scare videos on my parents. I thought it was the funniest thing ever, especially because I used Elmo jump scares. So they'd be freaking out, and I'd just ask them why they were so afraid of a red puppet. My mom still doesn't trust me to show her videos."

"Well, it sounds like you and my brother would get along like fire, you should meet him later. He said he'd join us for dessert." Wait... What? Oh no... I know that look, she's trying to set Hana up with her brother! As much as I'd like Hana to be my sister-in-law, that would preferably be through a different brother.

."That sounds great, I really like Theo. What was that thing we had last time we ate with him and... Her name was Kate, right? Do you know how they're doing? I feel like I haven't heard about her in a long time." Hailey gave him a look. A I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that look. "No, they're not dating anymore. I thought I mentioned that."

"Oops, seriously though, what was that dessert we had with them?"

"That was revani, we can ask if that's what my brother has here today."

"Uh- what is revani, if I may ask, as the only non-Greek and non-Greek-dating person at this table?"

"Ha, of course you can ask Hana. It's a semolina cake, flavoured with lemon and orange zest. It's really good."

"That sounds great, but do you think I'd also be able to order some takeout for tomorrow? I just have a long day of travelling via bus tomorrow and I don't know when I'll get the chance to eat, so I figure having a big breakfast might help with that."

"That sounds like a cool idea. Hailey, why don't we all order some food to go and eat it tomorrow morning together?"

"You mean as like a big Greek breakfast?"

"Yeah."

"I wasn't thinking that initially but I'm glad Jay did, it sounds great."

"Alright, yeah, let's do it. I'll go talk to Theo and order somethings that reheat well." Hailey left them with a smile to go bother her brother in the kitchen, their discussion in Greek filling the restaurant with jokes and quips only a few present were able to understand, forging smiles on the faces of strangers as they listened to the voices in the kitchen. Hana looked apprehensive, and he doubted it was about the long bus inter-state bus ride. "Hana, I'm sure that your partner missed you, maybe he didn't say it, maybe he needed a distraction, but he missed you."

"How do you know? You don't even know him." If only you knew.

"Trust me on this."

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"You fucking idiot." Jay was trying to keep his voice down so that he didn't wake Hailey, who was asleep in her bed (where he wanted to be), or Hana who was asleep in the guest bedroom. As much as he loved her with his entire being, Jay had to admit that Hailey was a fucking demon if you woke her up without 'just cause'.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me Crosby!"

"What the hell Halstead?!"

"You called me at three-thirty in the morning, worried out of your mind about Hana, asking me to keep an eye on her, to protect her, all while you're dating someone who isn't her!"

"Oh, yeah, I'm dating her roommate-"

"Zadie. I know. Why do you think I called you to yell at you at two in the morning?"

"Hey, back up man. I don't know what you think you're talking about, but just because I'm dating Zadie doesn't mean that I don't care about Hana. There is very little I wouldn't do to keep her safe... If I could even do it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I... I was right there. I should have been able to help her. So, so why couldn't I help her? Huh? She is so important to me, okay? I don't even know how to describe it."

"Try."

"She... My mom told me that to make a woman fall in love with me I had to make her laugh, but every time she laughs I'm the one who falls more and more in love. She is astonishingly intelligent and I have never been more glad to feel like a complete and utter fool just by standing in someone's presence. If I had to crawl to hell and be tortured by the devil himself to keep her safe, I'd do it. I have never felt as wholly accepted by anyone else in my life, she has found ways to motivate me to climb out of my own grave on my darkest days. Every time a look at her, I see a glowing, deliriously happy future that I know I don't deserve." Heavy silence bore on both sides of the phone, dragging Kenny deeper into the dark crack in his chest, and delivering Jay an epiphany.

"... Have you ever thought that maybe it's about what she deserves?"

"Hm?"

"Listen, man, not everything is about you. This is about her. You just said you would let the devil tear you apart to keep her safe, and yeah maybe you don't deserve her, but she deserves you. She deserves someone who would do whatever it takes to make her laugh and keep her safe at whatever the cost all in the same day, and it sounds like that's you."

"Jay..."

"Just think about it man. And while you're at it, stop neglecting Hana, okay?"

"What?"

"You constantly talk about Zadie, you always involve her somehow when you're hanging out with Hana, and Hana's been getting the vibe that you're upset she came home and disrupted the little bubble you had going on with Zadie."  

"She told you that?"

"Me and Hailey, when we were all out at dinner. Just listen, pay a bit more attention to her, stop treating her like the middle man between you and your girlfriend, and work on your self-worth, man. You're a good person and an even greater friend, don't sell yourself short."

"Thanks, Halstead."

"No problem, Crosby."

"So what exactly makes me a 'great friend', Jay?"

"Uggggghhhhhhh."

"Hey! You said it, can't take it back!"

"... This is why we can't have nice things Kenny, goodnight."

"Wait you didn't tell me-"

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9.3k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, mentions of explicit sexual content, mentions of blood. the results of the fan favourite vote poll are at the end of this chapter.

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you sfhs babies i love you 3000

ELIMINATION

On the seventh Day of every Week in the game, Y/n’s elimination vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the Fan Favourite vote, which has already happened.

Vote closed. Thank you for participating!

DAY FOURTEEN

There’s something exciting and indulgent about sitting apart from Taehyung and Jimin, yet sharing secret glances and muffled smiles.

You’d had to leave Taehyung’s room at different times, you and Jimin sneaking back to your respective rooms to change out of his clothes so it didn’t look odd.

As the eight of you gather in the lounge, sleepily curled up with mugs of coffee or lying back against the couch for a few more moments of peace, the familiar faces of the others send a pang of guilt through you. Like you were lying to them. Omission is a type of lie, you suppose, but you try and smother the feeling. You’re allowed to be selfish.

Especially when it made Taehyung and Jimin look so happy.

Taehyung, who was almost always cheerful much like the puppy you saw last night, now looks like he can’t even contain it, his toes wiggling and eyes gleaming. Jimin, who on the other hand tended to be a little stiff and wary during these meetings, seemed more at ease than he’s ever been in front of everyone.

Could the others really blame you for wanting to see them happy?

You bite down hard on your tongue as Sejin arrives, the final piece in the puzzle. Maybe they could. You count your lucky blessings you don’t have to pick a favourite as well as someone to eliminate. Staying objective and making a decision tomorrow would be hard enough.

“Are we all ready?” Sejin checks, consulting with his watch to ensure it was in fact nine on the dot.

Catching everyone off guard, it’s Jungkook that speaks up, sitting beside you with crossed legs. “Ready, PD!”

The rest of you go still for a moment of surprised silence. When was the last time Jungkook had sounded that chipper? You’d found it strange when, being only the third one downstairs after you and Jin, Jungkook had neglected the last empty couch in favour of sitting beside you. Still half asleep, he’d exchanged pleasantries and basically face-planted into a cup of hot chocolate, inhaling the steam like his life depended on it.

Now, though, he seems more alert than most of you, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he waited for the meeting to start.

As you glance around, everyone seems equally shocked and relieved, except Jin, who just smiles quietly. You send the eldest a questioning gaze, but he just shrugs.

“Alright, today we just need to cover the prompts, Y/n’s Bangasm Bomb, and then we’ll finish off with the audience vote for fan favourite. Sound good?”

At the mention of fan favourite, Jungkook straightens up, knee jiggling. Your heart goes out to him. Not only had he had a rough time lately, but he put so much effort in to his prompt, and you can’t help but hope he gets it. He could use some cheering up, though he seemed cheerful again all on his own. “I’ll cross my fingers for you, Doctor Jeon,” you promise with a soft smile.

He glances back at you, eyes glittering. “You will?”

“Of course.” Out of the corner of your vision, you feel two sets of eyes on you. “You did well.”

He wrings his hands, gaze dropping. “I wasn’t even top three last week.”

You shrug lightly. “Then you’ll be most improved.”

When he grins, teeth poking out cutely, your shoulders drop in relief. “If I win, I’ll take you somewhere really fun, I promise!”

“Alright,” Sejin cuts in, breaking off your conversation, “our theme was dynamics and roleplay. Just like with last week, we’ll go through each of the guys and get Y/n to guess. Should be pretty easy. And we’ll see if anyone will be taking over the bunkrooms. Namjoon and Hoseok, you’ll be returning to your rooms tonight unless you failed your prompt again.”

Namjoon and Hoseok, squished up on either side of Taehyung, lean over him to high-five after the older one cheers.

“I’ll miss it,” Hoseok confesses, “but I missed my own bed even more. Namjoon; you’re welcome for a sleepover anytime.”

“A sleepover sounds fun,” Taehyung answers quietly, but Hoseok trills and cups his cheeks, inviting him too.

Across the other side, to the left of Jin and Yoongi, Jimin stiffens and instinctively sends you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part, but of course you can’t say anything in front of everyone.

Instead, you give a minute shrug and lean back. Taehyung had already spent the past two weeks being relatively free with his affections, and it seems unfair to get upset by it now. Especially when you were still having sex with other people.

Like a bucket of cold water down your back, the decision you made last night comes into clarity. You couldn’t go out on dates. You couldn’t really kiss or hold hands in front of the others lest they find out. And you couldn’t even be faithful to them. What exactly made declaring your feelings and choosing to be together any different from how you were before?

Before you get too deep into your thoughts, you notice the room has gone silent, everyone staring at you. “Hm? Sorry?”

Sejin’s pointing to Jin expectantly. “Could you state your guess for what Seokjin’s prompt was, Y/n?”

Jin’s face is weirdly unreadable, eyes not really focusing on yours. You struggle to process enough to recall the answer. “Um, poolboy.”

Jin remains silent, making Sejin cough awkwardly. “Yes, poolboy and client was his prompt. Congratulations, Seokjin, you didn’t explicitly tell Y/n your prompt and successfully completed it.”

On the other side of the room, Taehyung’s eyes fly wide, before his shoulders slump, blushing as Hoseok quietly teases him.

“Yoongi?”

You clear your throat, feeling weirdly strung-out, like your attention is in a million places at once. Get through the meeting, then you can chat with Min and Tae. Just stay focussed. “Yoongi was, like, an animal?”

“Predator and prey,” Yoongi explains smoothly, finally starting to look a little less zombie-like. “And I made sure we were in view of the cameras outside. The ones by the gazebo.”

Sejin nods, choosing to sit on the coffee table instead of just standing in front of you all. “Right. Congratulations, Yoongi, you also successfully completed your prompt within the rules. Jimin’s one?”

You’re pretty sure every person in this room could guess his without a second thought. “Stripper.”

Jimin blows you a teasing kiss with a wink, and you try not to look too endeared, heart leaping at the soft look that hides behind his flirty act. “I hope you all enjoyed the show.”

Beside you, Jungkook goes oddly stiff, face falling. But before you can ask him about it, he’s taking a deep breath and putting on a smile again, albeit a smaller one. You frown as Sejin congratulates Jimin before turning to your couch and indicating it’s Jungkook’s turn.

“Doctor and patient,” you hear yourself answer easily, but you find yourself still worried about him, remembering what he said about Jimin yesterday. Maybe he wasn’t as cheery as he was making himself seem today.

A similar look of worry flickers across Jimin’s face at Jungkook’s odd response, and you decide that once the meeting is done, you’ll ask Jungkook about it. Maybe get him to talk to you privately, or everyone so you’re all on the same page. Anything so that you can resolve the strange upset Jungkook seems to have.

“...his prompt. Now, Namjoon?”

“Husband and wife,” you offer up reflexively, grateful of the warm albeit shy smile Namjoon sends you in response.

“Now, Namjoon and Y/n, I’m aware you spent a significant amount of time together in the rec room. Of course, you can retain your privacy, but I do need to ask if Namjoon explicitly told Y/n his prompt in there.”

Looking like a teacher’s pet being told off, Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “I didn’t!”

Sejin lets out a quick laugh, holding a calming hand up. “That’s fine, that’s all I needed. Congratulations, Namjoon, you’re out of the bunkrooms.”

Taehyung looks nervous when Sejin’s stare rests on him. His eyes keep darting around to the other men like he’s waiting for their reactions. When Sejin asks you to guess the prompt, you hesitate. Something about how uncomfortable he looks gives you pause. “She doesn’t have to guess,” Taehyung offers up, “and you don’t have to say it. I already know I lost.”

Sejin gives him a look of sympathy. “The editing team did catch you telling Y/n directly which means you’ll have to stay in the bunks for next week, but unfortunately the nature of these meetings does require each prompt to be revealed to the group.”

You can see the puppy behind Taehyung’s eyes as he rounds them, pouting up at Sejin. “Really?”

“We don’t have to give details,” Sejin offers up shortly. “And none of these prompts will ever be things anyone has on their hard limits list, so please don’t think anyone hear will be in any position to judge it.”

This seems to ease Taehyung’s worry significantly. “Pet and owner,” Taehyung offers up shortly. “And I lost because I told Y/n. Time for Hoseok.”

Even as your heart aches to jump up and go to him, Jimin also shifting in his seat restlessly, you see Hoseok quietly wrap a hand around Taehyung’s elbow and Namjoon rest his head tentatively on Tae’s shoulder. You settle back, forcing yourself to remember you and Jimin aren’t the only ones that care for Taehyung.

Sejin clears his throat and gestures to Hoseok. “Lucky last, I suppose. What’s your guess, Y/n?”

You think back to Monday night. Hoseok teasing you throughout the day and then tying you up at night in the prettiest ropes, feeling entirely under his control. You’d called him Master. “Master and sss….sub?”

Hoseok smiles sweetly, his voice honeyed. “Almost. You and Jungkook were my pretty little slaves, princess.”

In perfect synchronisation, the others turn their heads around to you and Jungkook, sharing a couch. “I remember now,” you state weakly as Jungkook shifts on his spot.

Sejin looks distinctly uncomfortable with the sudden turn, wincing at Hoseok. “Well, congratulations because you also successfully completed your prompt. Anyways, that’s that done, time for the Bangasm Bomb. As you all probably recall,” Sejin explains, sliding off his glasses and wiping the lenses with his shirt as he goes, “the requirement was that Y/n had to stay in a different bed every night otherwise she’d be in the bunkroom. Luckily, she managed to do so, so Taehyung is the only one required to stay there.”

Taehyung shrinks, bottom lip sticking out in disappointment and Jimin watches him, stricken. Against your better judgement, you call out to Sejin. “But are we able to voluntarily go there?”

Sejin shrugs. “Sure, you already did so once this week. No rules against it.”

Jimin brightens up, but before he can say anything, Hoseok’s cheering, jostling Tae’s side. “Guess the sleepover will be back in the bunkroom, Tae!” Across the side of the room, Jimin visibly holds back his irritation.

“Can we do the audience favourite now?” Jungkook pipes up in a hopeful voice.

“Oh, of course.” Sejin fumbles to slide his glasses back on, lenses still smudged at the bottom, and clears his throat dramatically. “Alright, so I’ll just say the top three again. Third place this week was Namjoon.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen comically as he croaks out a, “Really?”

“Ah, I’m so proud,” Hoseok croons, reaching across Taehyung to pat Namjoon’s knee enthusiastically. “Young grasshopper learnt well.”

Namjoon still seems in disbelief, letting out a stilted laugh. “Wow, I- Goodness, that’s so nice of them!”

Beside you, Jungkook’s practically vibrating with nervous energy. He wasn’t even in the top three last time, and you can tell he’s feeling the pressure. Yoongi seems unbothered, even as his eyes keenly focus on Sejin; Jin waits patiently, not looking like he’s expecting anything. Jimin’s more focused on Taehyung than the announcement, his eyes locked onto the boy that’s sandwiched between Namjoon and Hoseok as they celebrate. Hoseok looks relatively uncaring about the favourite, lips still spread in a heart-shaped grin at Namjoon’s victory like it’s his own.

“Second place,” Sejin continues, “was Jungkook.”

You hear and feel his reaction rather than see it. Hear the exhale as he sinks, a mix of relief and disappointment making his frame go lax on the couch. Leaning over, you send him a warm smile. “Good job, Kook, you did really well.”

“Who’s number one?” he asks instead, leaning forward with his legs tucked up under him.

Sejin gives a small smile. “The highest number of votes this week went to Yoongi.”

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook questions quietly, but it’s drowned out by Hoseok’s excited woop and chirpy laughter as Yoongi’s mouth drops open, doing a double take at the news.

“Are you serious?” Yoongi exclaims, a disbelieving grin spreading across his face as Jin rubs his shoulders and Jimin congratulates him lowly. “Holy shit, who would’ve guessed?” His eyes find you suddenly, brightening with realisation. “I get to take you out tonight,” he declares.

A shock of thrill runs through you at all the possibilities of some private time with the enigmatic doctor, but you can’t help but glance over, wary of Tae and Jimin’s reactions. Though Jimin just looks a little stiff, Taehyung’s eyes are on you, sullen. Rather than jealous, it seems more like he’s disappointed he couldn’t be the one to take you out. It’s a relief he isn’t mad, but it only increases the unsettled feeling in your heart. You, Taehyung and Jimin sorely needed to talk.

“Well, then,” Sejin interrupts, breaking you out of your daze, “that’s your Sunday meeting, I’ll see you all back here tomorrow for elimination.”

Like clockwork, the seven guys turn their heads to look at you, even as Sejin bids you farewell and leaves out the front door.

“Do you know who you’re voting out?” Jin asks with a complete lack of tact, an easy smile hiding the concern in his eyes.

You cough awkwardly. “I have no clue,” you answer honestly. “I’m just… trying not to think about it until I really have to, you know? I still don’t want to vote out any of you.”

“That reminds me,” Jin speaks up, though he states it awkwardly, almost sounding rehearsed, “I think we all need to have a group talk. Set some things straight.”

Jungkook recoils like the comment was directed at him, letting out a light huff. “Can’t this wait?”

Yoongi grimaces. “With all due respect, Jungkookie, I think it would be best to just have a chat now and sort this out. If the therapist thinks we need to talk, he’s probably right.”

“It’s not like it’s urgent,” the youngest rebutts, “let’s just do it some other time.”

Jin sucks in a breath. “We’re all sitting here now, Jungkook, and clearing the air. Unless you want to go back to feeling uncomfortable.”

Jungkook’s eyes cast towards the ceiling like he can’t believe he’s stuck here. “Oh my god! I already spoke to you, just pass it on!”

“You know I can’t do that, Jungkook,” Jin says calmly, even as his eyes flare in ire. “We want you to be happy, and I’m sure you’re not the only one that has been struggling, and if we-”

“If you want me to be happy, fucking let me leave, Jesus,” Jungkook swears, and you flinch when he suddenly stands, rushing away quickly. “I’ll come back when I’m done.”

“Done?” Jin asks, looking completely lost. “Goodness, that kid gets angry at everything these days.”

“A talk does sound really helpful, Jin-hyung,” Namjoon offers up. “If you want, we can hang around and wait for Jungkook.”

Jin lets out a light sigh, smiling gratefully. “I figure it’ll be good for us. Hopefully. I just worry about everyone, you know? Just because this is a reality show doesn’t mean we need to be always fighting and throwing drinks in people’s faces and stuff. We need to communicate like adults.”

Yoongi frowns. “You don’t need to take all that burden on yourself, hyung. I’m sure they didn’t teach you to handle this kind of situation in your training.”

Jin goes to reply, but the moment his mouth opens, words are cut off by a dual ding, two phones going off.

You glance over to where Taehyung and Namjoon both instinctively check their phones, faces falling almost simultaneously.

“Oh,” Taehyung says shortly, face falling. “I should’ve remembered.”

“What is it?” Jin asks with knitted brows.

“It’s his stream,” Namjoon explains guiltily, “he normally begins it earlier than this, so he was probably trying to leave so he could start.”

“Why didn’t he just-?” Jin exhales roughly, Yoongi’s hand falling to his shoulder to anchor him. “Whatever. He’s angry now, I guess, let’s just wait for him to finish and once he goes offline someone can text him and ask him to come down. Is everyone fine with that?”

Although no one protests, the air is significantly stiff with tension; Yoongi makes another round of coffees, Taehyung opens the stream and watches it with the volume turned muted, biting at his fingernail. It feels like such a departure from the same time last week, and being tuned in just feels even more invasive than last time.

“The people in the comments aren’t happy about him being late,” Taehyung notes nervously. “He looks upset.”

“I don’t think you should be watching,” Namjoon admits, shifting in his seat as he tries to avoid looking at the screen. “Doesn’t it feel strange to you?”

“I’m just making sure he’s okay,” Taehyung insists hollowly, eyes locked onto it. “He’s trying to touch himself but he’s not getting ha-”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Yoongi spits harshly, returning with four cups of coffee balanced precariously in his grip. “Watch it if you want, but respect that we’re choosing not to.”

Taehyung frowns, but doesn’t protest, returning silently to the screen. Alone on your couch, you take a cup of coffee from Yoongi’s outstretched hands and cradle the cup, feeling the warmth seep into your bones, your heart still as cold as if it were frozen in ice.

True to Yoongi’s command, Taehyung stays silent as he watches, and the entire room sits in uncomfortable quiet until, what can only be fifteen or twenty minutes later, Taehyung lets out a defeated sigh and locks his phone, setting it on the arm of the couch.

The implication is clear, and Jin sets his jaw, looking determined albeit regretful. “Okay, can someone text Jungkook? Let’s get this over with. Just remember it’s for the best.”

Though it seems like even Jin himself is unsure of that, everyone waiting in dread as Taehyung sends him a text, and he comes down the stairs a few minutes later, cheeks flexed with irritation.

You fight the urge to reach out to him when he collapses onto the couch beside you, hair messy but clean and in the same casual clothes as earlier. He seems restless and volatile, and you can’t help but wish the lot of you weren’t having this talk now, or wish you could just jump forward in time to when everyone was happy and alright again.

“Go on, then,” Jungkook starts, snapping the silence. His arms are crossed tightly and eyes piercing as they glare at Jin. “Start the group therapy.”

Though he’s been silent for a while now, Jimin lets out a tired groan. “Fucking hell, Jungkook, he’s trying to help you! Seeing you be upset makes us feel terrible.”

Jungkook stiffens, and you can just about feel the heat radiating off his body as he fires up. “Oh, I’m sorry, next time I’ll just be miserable in private!”

Jin looks stricken, rubbing at his temple. “Jungkook, you said you were going to try and seek out the things that made you happy.”

“And you said you weren’t going to reveal what I said to you in confidence,” Jungkook replies shortly, but before Jin can protest, he’s continuing, voice strained. “But- I do want to try and make things better. I’m sorry; I’m really stressed out and it’s frustrating not being able to leave this place. I thought if I got fan favourite I’d at least get a break.”

The rest of you fall silent for a moment. Your eyes sting, so you blink to ease the ache. “We understand. We want you to be happy. Can we all agree to try our best to just stay chill and talk this through?”

As the others nod, Jungkook scoots back like he’s trying to bury himself into the corner of the couch. “But talk what through? Do you not realise how shitty it feels having all of you sitting me down for an intervention right now? I don’t know whether to be offended or humiliated.”

Taehyung’s face crumples violently, like he’s about to cry. Hoseok, unusually solemn, clears his throat lightly as he pats Tae’s back. “JK, it’s not all of us gathering to dunk on you. I for one know that there are things I’d like to get off my chest. Things that bother me and stuff. I think if we all just front up to what we’re struggling with then we can work through these issues together. But it’s gotta be all of us. If we want to be happy here.”

Jin sends Hoseok a grateful look, sitting back in his seat when Jungkook begins nodding. “I can do that,” Jungkook agrees in a small voice. “Just… someone else can start.”

The concept of owning up about your feelings is clearly as paralysing to the others as it is to you. Everyone falls silent, looking around at each other’s faces and waiting for someone else to speak up. A thread of worry niggles in the back of your brain that Taehyung or Jimin would confess your closeness, bursting the bubble that was already so fragile.

In the end, it’s Yoongi that chooses to go first, heaving a great sigh to brace himself. “If I’m perfectly honest,” Yoongi admits, “I’m a little concerned that we’re going to be cornered into conflict no matter how much we avoid it. As nice as the producers are-” he pauses to glare at one of the cameras filming the interaction with an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture, “this is a reality show and reality shows are founded on drama. And look how much effort it took to get us to sit down and actually talk to each other? It would’ve been easier in some respects to just get angry and hateful and fight every other day, and I don’t think everyone is as aware of that as hyung and I are.”

Jungkook swallows. “I do worry about that, too,” he reveals. “I mean, not in the same way, but… If we wanted to, we could just all hate each other and only interact when we had to and then never speak again when we all leave. Which is weird because for now, we can’t go anywhere. We’re all gonna be really close and then we’ll just go our separate ways. And I don’t know what to do about it… If that makes sense.”

“But you did that exact same thing to us,” Jimin protests. “If you’re scared of us all acting like strangers then why push us away?”

Jungkook frowns stiffly. “That’s what you did at the start!”

“And it sucked,” Jimin retorts immediately. “It felt awful seeing everyone socialise and feeling like I had to stay out of it to protect myself. That’s why I’m not acting like a dick anymore.”

“Well, that’s up for debate,” Hoseok quips with a scoff.

Jimin sends him a withering glare, but Jungkook pays no mind to Hoseok’s remark, eyes still on the blue-haired man. “Everyone else was ignoring me anyway!” His voice is brittle, powered only by his frustration, and it feels like a pot ready to boil over. “Yoongi and Jin always do their own thing in the kitchen and never like me helping out, Namjoon and Hoseok have their whole teacher-student thing going on, and the only people my age are so up each other’s asses that they don’t even look at me half the time! Y/n has six other guys to sleep with so it’s not like I can even hang out with her that much. Everyone’s paired up and left me out of it but you all act like you haven’t. And then it’s all, ‘oh, why is Jungkook all grouchy?’ like I’m just making your lives difficult or something.”

Jimin winces. “We never tried to-”

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t try to, you did! You and Tae fucking drool over each other all day long and even when I try and- and- talk to either of you, it’s clear that you’re just thinking about the other person.” Jungkook stands suddenly, whirling around to face Taehyung. “I thought that day in the confessional shed, Tae, when you said it wasn’t just Y/n… I thought you were talking about me. I thought we were having a moment, you know, and then it turns out it was just Jimin. It’s always Jimin.”

“Come on, that’s not fair,” Jimin cuts in, “he can’t help his feelings.”

Taehyung sends Jimin a confused look hastily before turning back to Jungkook. “Kookie, I’m really sorry. I don’t want to exclude you anymore. I’ll do better.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologise, Tae,” Jin pipes up tiredly, and a strangled cry comes from Jungkook’s throat, the boy almost hysterical.

“Why do you want so badly for no one to be on my side, Seokjin?”

“God, it isn’t about that-”

Jungkook seems borderline hysterical, bottom lip trembling violently as he points at the eldest. “Well, what is it about? You act so fucking high and mighty, Jin, yet you’re in the same fucking situation as me.”

Your eyes widen as Jungkook turns to you, knees almost bumping yours with how close he’s standing. Behind him, Jin makes a low noise of warning. “Don’t, Jungkook…”

Jungkook’s eyes are wild, two points of red on his cheeks. “Jin has feelings for you but he won’t say anything because he thinks you just see it as sex. And he has the fucking audacity to try and give me advice on my feelings for-”

“Jeon Jungkook!” Jin bellows, standing too. Beside him, Yoongi tugs at his wrist, but the eldest shakes it off. “You have no right to-”

You’ve had enough of sitting silently, wincing at Jin’s volume, the therapist so far from the pillar of emotional stability he usually was. “Just let him get it out, Jin, he’s frustrated.”

Jungkook scoffs even as Jin shakes his head in disapproval. “Are you serious?” Jungkook asks you incredulously. “I tell you Jin has feelings for you and you’re still trying to suck up to me?”

You reel back, brows knitted. “I’m defending you, Jungkook.”

“I don’t want you to fucking defend me, Y/n, I’ve had enough of you leading everyone on and then not returning anything. You have all the power here and you just toy with us and act all innocent.”

“What are you talking about?” you cry, throat aching with the effort it takes to keep your voice steady.

Jungkook’s eyes gleam, unshed tears reflecting the light. “Jin-hyung tries to be romantic and you tell him it’s just a scene to you, instead of just doing Namjoon’s prompt you take his virginity like it’s a 90s romcom, making it “special” for him. You want every one of us to fall for you so that you can get fawned over by seven hot guys, but you aren’t willing to take any of the responsibility that comes with it. You act like things are so hard for you having to choose, but you’re breaking our fucking hearts doing it!”

You open your mouth to retort, but a crashing wave of guilt overtakes you, and your cheeks are wet before you even realise you’re crying. Intentional or not, you rue all the times you complained about elimination, knowing that the guys must have been feeling so much worse. “I’m so sorry, Kook,” you make out, covering your nose and mouth with a hand to try and contain yourself.

From the other side of the room, it’s Namjoon that speaks up next, voice flat and reserved. It’s a stark contrast to the fire in Jungkook’s voice, but he looks no less affected by everything. “That’s not fair at all,” he says shortly, “Y/n isn’t in charge of our feelings any more than we are, and you don’t have any right to judge her for what I chose. I was the one who wanted my first time to be special, Kook.”

Namjoon’s low volume seems to influence Jungkook, taking his noise level down a notch. The words just hurt more. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here then, Namjoon. This isn’t where you come to have your cherry popped by a nice, young lady you can bring home to your parents.”

“Oh, my god,” Hoseok exclaims with a groan, “are we seriously just complaining about everyone now? Is that what this is? Good going, Jin, really fucking helpful.”

A whirl of dread rushes through you as the anger continues to flit around the room in an ugly cloud, everyone having a bone to pick with each other. Jin makes a noise of outrage, hissing back at Hoseok when he speaks. “I don’t see you coming up with any suggestions. Do any of you have any fucking idea how hard it is to have everyone expecting you to magically solve their problems and shoulder their burdens and not a single one of them gives a shit about you?”

“That isn’t true,” you protest, immediately regretting drawing attention back to yourself.

Jin scoffs. “You haven’t said a fucking thing since finding out I have feelings for you. Wait, no; you haven’t said a fucking thing since I got upset with you on Tuesday. Did you really never think to ask even once how I was doing?”

Your excuse feels flat even before you say it. “I was waiting for you to-”

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” he sings sarcastically. “Everybody waits for me to solve things and then complains when it’s not helpful enough,” Jin spits, glaring at Hoseok with the last few words.

A shuddering sob cuts into the silence that follow his words, and in unison you all turn to Taehyung, who has his face buried in Hoseok’s shoulder, Namjoon rubbing his back as his shoulders heave.

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, body twitching as he fights the urge to rush over, and instead raises his voice to address the room. “Alright; show’s over. This isn’t solving anything.”

“Why should you decide?” Jungkook cuts in immediately. “I’m miserable and you don’t care, Jin’s miserable and you don’t care, but the second it’s Taehyung…!”

Jimin rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “Why are you so bothered by it?”

Jungkook lets out a cry of frustration that sounds closer to a sob. “Because you’re taking him away from me! I can’t compete with you! Everybody’s obsessed with you, everybody wants your approval and you just drink it up, you narcissistic, selfish piece of shit!”

Around the room, everyone sucks in a wary breath, but Jimin’s already standing, features sharpened in anger. “Why are you acting like it’s my fault he has feelings for me? Maybe he doesn’t like you because you’re a whiny fucking brat who takes everything personally.”

“That isn’t true,” Taehyung hiccups out, “Jungkookie’s nice, Min. And you’re not selfish.”

Though the tension in the room just keeps rising and rising, you can see, behind Jimin’s standing figure, Yoongi sitting stiffly on the couch. He keeps glaring at the cameras expectantly, with one hand clutching his phone and the other latched onto Jin’s wrist, keeping him from interfering further. The two exchange words quietly, shaking their heads in disapproval.

On the more emotional side of the room, Hoseok holds Taehyung closely, soothing him as Namjoon looks up hesitantly at the others. “I really think we should stop, guys…”

“Let’s all take a chill pill,” Hoseok quips as Taehyung’s tears stain his shirt.

Jimin lets out a noise of disgust. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Hoseok.”

“Is no one gonna stop this?” Namjoon asks hesitantly, glancing up at the cameras.

“What did I say?” Yoongi retorts rhetorically. “They aren’t going to interfere. They know this drama gives their show more views.”

“Good for Jimin,” Jungkook states petulantly, “the more views he gets, the better he feels.”

“Coming from you,” Jimin says over the sound of Yoongi clicking his tongue in exasperation. “Maybe the reason you hate me so much is because you and I are the exact same, Jungkook, I just do it better.”

“Again with your superiority complex,” Jungkook huffs. “How long until everyone here gets sick of you, Jimin? How long until the novelty wears off and you’re left alone on your high horse again, huh?”

Jimin flinches like he’s been hit, but takes an accusing step closer to Jungkook. Around them, everyone shrinks back in their seats, Hoseok shielding Taehyung’s ears and Yoongi and Jin with a phone sandwiched between their cheeks as they make a call. Namjoon’s begun to cry, too, but he hides his running nose with a sleeve, eyes wide and shining as they watch Jimin and Jungkook square off.

The two of them are a few steps apart, now, not even the coffee table dividing them. Jimin, although physically smaller than Jungkook, appears to tower over the other as his face darkens. “At least I’m good at my job, Jungkook. Why did you come down so soon? Blow your load too quickly like an amateur?” When it doesn’t gain any more reaction than Jungkook’s face twitching in annoyance, Jimin grins wickedly. “Or could baby not even get it up, huh? Take your dick away, you’re not much of anything, are you?”

Jungkook lunges before Jimin is even done speaking.

The thud of impact and grunt of rage from the youngest echoes through the room sickly as Jimin reels back, clutching at his nose. Already you can see the intense scarlet pooling between his fingers, dripping down as his eyes tear up with anger and pain.

The urge to jump in, do something, almost overwhelms you, but you feel yourself paralysed, shocked and barely able to process anything like it’s a bad nightmare.

On one side of Jungkook and Jimin, Taehyung wails, struggling in Hoseok and Namjoon’s hold as the two of them keep him from interfering. On the other side, Yoongi stands up in alarm, keeping his voice calm as he splays his palms. “Woah, woah, that’s enough now-”

Jimin pulls his hands away, spitting out the blood in his mouth even as more streams to fill out. “You little fucker,” he hisses. “If you broke my nose, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh. “Take your face away, you’re not much of anything, right?” he mocks.

Sensing things turning for the worst, Yoongi widens his eyes and jumps forward, but his hands just catch on empty air. Jimin’s already launched himself forward, taking Jungkook off-guard as he shoves him with balled fists, using the full weight of his body to send the other tripping backwards.

Jungkook curses when he lands harshly on the coffee table, empty and half-full cups of coffee flung off, some smashing directly under him. He rolls off, instinctively curling his body away from Jimin.

Passing Taehyung over to Namjoon, Hoseok leaps up to tug Jimin back as the man continues to step closer to Jungkook’s prone body. The moment he gets a hand on Jimin, however, he’s met with an elbow to the cheek, stumbling back from the impact.

For a moment, everyone goes silent. Jimin stares wide-eyed at the red mark quickly blooming on Hoseok’s cheekbone, the dom looking shocked as he rubs at it.

That second of inaction is all it takes for Jin and Yoongi to descend on Jimin at the same time, an arm firmly grasped by each man as they drag him backwards. Jimin doesn’t even fight it, though, a strange clarity and sorrow in his eyes, even brighter than the red that’s beginning to drip down to his shirt.

When Sejin bursts in and rushes over to Jungkook, it’s too late to really solve anything. The combative atmosphere has dissolved into the sick, defeated aftermath of Jimin and Jungkook’s physical alteration.

Still, he directs Jin and Yoongi to take Jimin upstairs to ‘cool off’, crouching beside Jungkook and making sure he’s okay before he tugs the boy gently up. As he leads the youngest in the opposite direction, towards the front door, Jungkook twists in his grip, trying to look back towards the group.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he wails, “please don’t hate me, I’m so so sorry!” Jungkook babbles on almost incoherently, feet stumbling as Sejin tries to shush him, pulling him out the door.

The moment the door clicks shut, it’s like the emotions of the past hour or so hit everyone at once. Namjoon has joined Taehyung in crying, Hoseok trying to rub their backs at once with a pained face, his cheek beginning to swell slightly.

With your shoulders and chest heaving violently as you sob - the silent tears finally finding their voice - you blink away your blurry vision and heave yourself off the couch. The three of them accept you with open, albeit shaky arms, and without any care about exposing your relationship, you wind your arms around Taehyung’s waist and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Namjoon asks in a small voice, fiddling with the damp sleeve of his shirt.

As if to answer his question, you hear hurried stomps, followed by Jimin bursting briefly into your line of sight, rushing down the stairs and out the front door without even a second glance.

Even the split-second view of him you got sparks worry in your chest. He’d clearly made a minimal attempt to wipe away most of the blood, but there were still dried smears below his nostrils and down his neck, and the shirt he’s wearing looks like something out of a horror movie, likely the material he used to clean himself up.

Jin and Yoongi follow down, but not fast enough, the blue-haired man long gone by then. The two of them seem hollowed, clearly taking this on as their own burden, as their fault - especially Jin, who’s knitting his brows harshly to stop his own tears.

Taehyung’s straightening up immediately, wrapped up in the middle of the three of you on the couch as he calls out to the older men. “What did he say? Is he okay? It’s not broken, is it? His nose?”

“Tae, easy,” Jin soothes, voice thick with emotion. “Yoongi took a look at it, it’s not broken, just tender. Jungkook sure does know how to swing a punch, though. Jimin was lucky.”

“Lucky,” the masseuse repeats weakly. “I don’t know if anything about this was lucky, hyung.”

“Can we even come back from this?” Namjoon asks slowly. “If we couldn’t talk like adults without fighting, then surely we’re doomed to just-”

“Nobody is doomed,” Jin assures. “If I’m perfectly honest, it seems like Jungkook was so wound up that there was nowhere for him to go except this. He probably just needed to totally vent and get it all out. I should’ve seen it coming, I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi grimaces, a hand on Jin’s shoulder. “None of this is your fault, hyung. We’re all complicit and we can all learn from this, but let’s not play the blame game. I just hope Jimin and Jungkook don’t entirely despise each other after this. I actually thought the kid liked- Anyway. Best thing we can do now is give them some time.”

You suck in a deep breath. That whole time, you’d just sat there, too shocked or too cowardly to move, you don’t even know which one. And although it’s too late, at least there’s one thing you can do to help, rather than just waiting passively. You gently detangle yourself from Taehyung, Hoseok and Namjoon and get up off the couch.

When Yoongi - the most composed of the bunch - sees you kneel on the carpet, beginning to pick up chips and fragments of the shattered cup, he lets out a noise of concern. “Y/n, you shouldn’t-”

In your haste to help, and your shakiness from crying, it’s no surprise that your fingers are clumsy, grabbing onto a shard too harshly.

You see the blood welling before you feel it, a hot line of pain that opens up across the base of your palm and spills onto the carpet. Dumbly, you just watch it collect in the fibres. You’re sure when the showrunners rented this house, they hadn’t anticipated blood to be the fluid they’d need to be cleaning up. But in just one day, so much had been shed needlessly.

You’d probably sit there forever, numb to your own injury were it not for Yoongi rushing forward, his fingers gently prying away the sharp shard of ceramic, holding your hand so tenderly as he inspects it.

“You’re coming to my bedroom, now. Can you stand?”

Yoongi’s voice feels far away, inconsequential. You hum just to feel your throat vibrate. Letting out a sigh laden with worry, Yoongi lifts you off the floor slowly, waiting to see if you can get your feet back under you.

It seems you can stand, though it takes all of your focus. The others are talking behind you, voices fretting, but they reach your ears like you’re underwater.

It’s less than a second of eternity before you’re blinking away the cotton fog, slowly coming back to your senses.

The first thing you feel is a freezing solid surface against your legs and back. As it seeps into your bones, it wakes you up, and you fight to focus your vision, watching the colours swim sickly.

“...hear me?” The shapes and shades begin to settle like silt on a lakebed, revealing Yoongi’s round face as it crumples in contained concern. “Y/n, can you hear me?”

“I h-hear you, yes,” you slur out, coughing away the remaining thickness in your throat.

“Good, okay, stay with me,” he instructs, crouched in front of you. “What day is it?”

The more you tune back in to your surroundings, you become aware of a second person behind Yoongi. Hoseok’s long legs sprawl gracefully in front of you as he sits on the toilet seat lid, but his head is dipped back onto the tile. He looks totally devoid of any of the positive energy you’re used to seeing on him.

“Everything’s ruined,” you mumble lowly.

Yoongi sucks in a breath and tilts your face back to him, his fingers cold like ice. “I need you to not worry about that for now and stay alert. What day of the week is it?”

“Sunday,” you give after a beat.

“Good, and what’s my name?”

You frown, shifting in his grasp. “I’m not concussed, you know.”

Yoongi huffs, his hands falling from your jaw. “I’m trying to keep you distracted, you brat. What’s my name?”

“Min Yoongi. Doctor Min Yoongi I gue- Wait, why do I need to be- ow!” You automatically try to jerk your hand close to you when a searing, stinging pain explodes your nerves, but an iron grip around your wrist keeps you steady.

Glancing down, you see Yoongi deftly wrapping a bandage around the base of your palm, winding it around your thumb. Below, the burning ache of antiseptic makes you wince. “It hurts,” you whine.

“Unlike poor Hoseok, you did this to yourself,” Yoongi replies shortly.

You pout. “Do you bully all your patients?”

“Only the ones I like.” Clearing his throat with a tinge of pink in his cheeks, Yoongi finishes bandaging your wound. “You’ll live.”

Despite yourself and the events of the past few hours, your lip twitches. “Reassuring.”

Before the doctor can respond, Hoseok lifts his head and blinks down at the two of you balefully. “He hit me,” he breathes in a sullen voice.

“Jimin?” Yoongi begins to pack up his little first aid kit, slumping back against the vanity you’re propped up on. “You got in the way.”

“He didn’t just push me away, he elbowed me right in the face,” Hoseok explains meaningfully. The thought seems to bother him more than you’d expect. “I didn’t think he actually hated me like that.”

“Isn’t that your whole shtick?” you ask tiredly. All of your annoyance, frustration, anger and even your guilt seems to have been sucked away by the chill of the tile, leaving you feeling strangely hollow and detached. “Two sparring doms trying to outdo each other?”

The truth is, Jimin didn’t like to speak or hear about Hoseok, and you hadn’t actually spent that much time with the professional dom to hear his side. Hoseok shrugs with a sigh. “I know he doesn’t like me. And I think he’s an arrogant prick, but I’d never hit him. I thought it was just a bit of fun to play up the rivalry, you know? I guess not to him.”

Yoongi looks grim. “I don’t think it’s wise for us to make any judgements about each other based on any of the events of the past six hours. We all got caught up in it, and I’m sure we’ll be able to forgive and move on.”

Hoseok nibbles at a thumbnail, unassured. “Do you think they’ll send them home for aggression?”

“Who knows?” Yoongi answers honestly. “But hey; you’ll get to be the winner of your rivalry and outlast Jimin. That’s something, isn’t it? You always wanted to.”

A shiver runs up your spine at the despairing look on Hoseok’s face. “Not like this,” are the only three words he makes out before a sob bubbles up his throat. He claps a hand over his mouth, but the dam has burst.

“Hobi,” you coo, shuffling forward on your knees to avoid putting pressure on your injured hand. He lets out a shuddering breath when you take his hand and link in your fingers, providing some physical comfort. “Let’s go downstairs, maybe make some dinner, and wait for Jimin and Jungkook to come back in. We’ll say our sorries and go to bed on a warmer note, yeah?”

Hoseok pauses, bites his lip to cease his tears, and nods shakily. “Yeah, let’s do that. Even if he hates me, I… I want to apologise if I’ve contributed in taking things too far.”

You hum, standing up. Though you wobble for a bit, you feel far more stable than before, and you use your links hands to tug Hoseok to his feet too. “And I want to apologise for not being fairer with you all. But we can’t do anything until Jungkook and Jimin are ready to come back.”

Yoongi pushes himself off the floor with a grunt. “And Hoseok, I’m getting you an icepack for that cheek of yours.”

Though Hoseok protests, five minutes passing sees you in the kitchen, Hoseok slumped at the breakfast bar with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a paper towel pressed to his face. You busy yourself with putting some rice on to cook and Yoongi and Jin work in their usual companionable silence, preparing a basic beef broth.

Both uninjured and not much help in the kitchen, Taehyung and Namjoon occupy their hands and minds with cleaning, following YouTube tutorials on how to get coffee and blood out of the carpet. They haven’t made all that much progress by the time dinner is served, but nobody comments on the dark patches, huddling on two couches in the lounge instead of the dining table. Though no one admits it, you need the extra physical comfort.

As you eat, you find yourself glancing back and forth between the two full bowls waiting on the kitchen countertop, and the front door. “Should someone go out and check on them?” you ask eventually, snapping the silence.

“I texted Sejin asking if they needed any medical attention,” Yoongi offers. “He just said no.”

“Minnie took his phone,” Taehyung said in a low voice. He’s barely touched his food, staring blankly into space. “But he only sent one text saying he was okay and he won’t reply to any of my other ones.”

“We wait,” Jin decides resolutely. “We’ll just sit here and wait for them to come back, and then hopefully we can all agree to put this past us. It was awful, yes, but I think it needed to happen. And hopefully nobody feels like they have anything weighing on their conscience anymore.”

Nobody protests and so, you wait.

The leftovers - god, when was the last time you’d had leftovers in this house? - are wrapped up and put in the fridge, the pots cleaned. As the sky dims, you turn the lights on inside. Nobody dares leave long enough to have a shower, but Taehyung darts upstairs to grab some blankets so that you can tuck up in two groups - Taehyung stays by your side with Hoseok, and the two eldest sandwich Namjoon.

Time passes stiffly, but it does pass. When the sun goes down, there are still only six of you in the house. Everyone’s so emotionally exhausted from the fight, and strung out from the anxiety of listening out for the door, that when it suddenly opens you all jump, Hoseok even cursing as he gets a fright.

The sudden spike of hope in your chest tanks violently when it’s Sejin that rounds the corner, a grim look on his face.

Taehyung frowns, his frame trembling as it leans into you. “Where are they?”

Sejin gestures back the way he came. “They’re in the production van.” Taehyung stands up immediately, but Sejin steps in front of him, hands splayed. “They just want to have some space, Taehyung,” he explains.

“There’s more space in here than there is in the van,” Taehyung protests weakly, even as he settles back down between you and Hoseok. “When are they gonna come back inside? It’s getting late.”

Sejin’s eyes flit around the six of you as he shifts, uncomfortable. “I’ve told them they’re welcome to stay the night there and use my bed. I came in to tell you that I’m going to go home now. Please don’t go out and disturb them. I’ve talked to them, but now they need some time to chat to each other and think about what they’d like to do.” The older man adjusts his glasses and gives you a pained smile. “Try and get some rest.”

A cold bolt of fear runs down your spine. “What they’d like to do?”

Taehyung swallows hard, hands beginning to tremble. “They aren’t going to leave the show, are they?”

Sejin’s mouth opens, closes, opens again. “Please try and get some rest,” he repeats, rather than answering. Taehyung shivers, and you feel the pressure of his forehead on your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist.

The producer turns to leave, making Yoongi frown. “Hey!” he calls sharply. Sejin turns around to face him. “I was meant to be taking Y/n out as my reward for fan favourite.”

You bite your lip anxiously. Truth be told, the thought had slipped your mind, and you don’t fancy leaving the others now, certainly not Taehyung who was clinging to you like a frightened puppy.

Sejin curses under his breath, rubbing his temple. “I’ll call an Uber.”

Yoongi steps back a little like the response surprises him. “No, I- This isn’t really the time, is it? I want to ask if we can do it tomorrow night instead, or something? I’m staying here with my friends tonight. We’re staying together.”

“That’s fine,” Sejin allows, a weak smile gracing his tired features before he gasps. “Oh! That reminds me…” He turns so that he’s addressing the group. “I don’t think anyone is in the emotional headspace for eliminations, so… I’m pushing the Monday meeting to Tuesday. Nine in the morning like usual. Just rest up tomorrow.”

“Good to hear you care now,” Yoongi mutters bitterly.

Sejin winces. “I think we’ve had enough conflict today, Yoongi-”

“Something you could have solved,” the doctor accuses harshly, “if you’d answered my texts or my calls and come down when we were asking you for help. I won’t forget that.”

“It’s done. There’s nothing more for me to do beyond apologising.”

“Which you haven’t done,” Yoongi fires back immediately.

“I’m sorry.” The producer gives a stiff wave of farewell to the group. “My girlfriend is waiting outside. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.”

When Sejin leaves the villa, the group heave out a unanimous sigh of exhaustion. It’s been a long day, but the thought of splitting apart, of being alone with your thoughts, is more than you can bear.

“Could we…” You swallow down the croakiness in your throat as everyone turns to look at you. “Could we maybe all stay down here tonight? Together?”

Namjoon’s eyes soften. “I’d like that. I could grab some blankets?”

Taehyung looks up. “I’ll get pillows.”

One by one, four of you run upstairs, Yoongi and Hoseok wanting to get into some more comfortable clothes for sleeping. Before you do the same, you turn to Jin.

He’s starting to push the coffee table towards the television, leaving more room in the middle of the couches. Stubbornly keeping himself busy.

“Jin,” you call out hesitantly, making him glance up in the midst of straightening the table against the wall. “I want to apologise. For relying on you for everything and not taking responsibility of the situation.”

His eyes soften, a pained smile. “You don’t have to.”

“I do and I am,” you counter, “I’m sorry. And for what it’s worth… Me calling it a scene, I… It wasn’t a grand statement. It was just a slip of the tongue. You mean more to me than just this game, than just sex, and I feel terrible that you’ve gone the whole week thinking that was the case.”

Behind you, you can hear footsteps descending the stairs. Jin glances up, then back at you quickly with a shake of his head. “To be honest, I’ve gotten over it. I’m fine; you don’t have to worry about me. I think it’s better just to keep it about sex.” He makes a vague gesture, indicating the day’s events. “Less messy.”

You blink, not expecting that. Had he gotten over being upset? Or gotten over his feelings for you? “Oh.” But Hoseok and Taehyung are stumbling down the steps, hesitating in the doorway, and you know you can’t dig deeper. For now, you’ll have to just be happy he doesn’t seem to be still bothered by it. “No worries. I’ll- I should go get into some pyjamas.”

That night, none of you really sleep the night. You lie tucked between Yoongi’s reassuring mass on one side, and Taehyung’s comforting warmth on the other, and try to steal whatever moments of respite you can. But a restless night shared with five guys who mean far more to you than they should is far preferable to a night spent alone, and you count your blessings for it. Although you’re all a little broken, you have each other’s support to stop from shattering completely, and hopefully you can stay together long enough to heal.

ELIMINATION

On the seventh Day of every Week in the game, Y/n’s elimination vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the Fan Favourite vote, which has already happened.

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Below is the screenshot taken after 48 hours of the fan favourite vote being open.