#there's another chunk of this mess straightened out

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Unpredictable, Part 8-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: This took me way too long to write but as per usual, please let me know what you think and if you want more.

Warnings: angst, negative family dynamics, eating issues, body issues, and swearing.

Word Count: 7.8k

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @badbishsblog, @gardenof-venus, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog, @kasslucilfer, @darksoul100

Luke’s smile would have been more contagious if my thoughts were not so jumbled. Even though he was standing right across from me, my brain refused to believe he was real. Sure, he was wearing his favorite brown jacket over a t-shirt with jeans, and the sun (or whatever light) highlighted the natural glow around him. But, it was impossible.

“Impossible?” Luke asked. “That’s a little harsh.”

I hesitated and pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. “Sorry, this is a lot to take in.”

But I could see the scene in my mind’s eye: the Vought clean-up crew hosing the blood off the cobblestone in front of Lamplighter, the chunks of Luke they put in biohazard bags, and the smell---

I wretched at the thought of it and tried not to double over. Luke rushed over to me and softly grasped my shoulders.

“Hey, are you okay, Y/N?” he asked.

“No,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I…I saw you die, and this is a messed up joke if this is a joke. Or…”

Luke sighed. “You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He slowly backed away and I straightened up. Then, I launched myself at him and he caught me in a bear hug, laughing as he did. The scent of pine and clean aftershave almost made me cry.

“I miss you,” I mumbled into his chest.

“I miss you too,” he replied.

“I wish none of this happened. Why didn’t you tell any of us what was going on?” I demanded.

Luke paused. “I didn’t know how but, it sounds like you guys are figuring things out.”

I slowly pulled away from Luke and eyed him. “How can you tell?”

Luke pursed his lips. “I’m a manifestation of Cate’s subconsciousness. So, I see everything she sees.”

At his words, my eyes wandered around the forest. At first glance, it looked like any other forest with large trees and whistling wind. But on closer inspection, there were no woodland creatures, no sounds of birds, and the sky was more like a large gray cloud with red cracks that flashed every few seconds.

“I’m in Cate’s head?”

“You catch on quick but then again, you always do.”

I looked up at Luke. “So, if I’m in here, what’s happening to my body? And where’s everyone else?”

“You touched Cate when she was in extreme duress and she retreated to her mind but she brought you with her,” Luke explained. “Your body could be experiencing several things: seizure, vomiting, a comatose state, or hysteria.”

I groaned. “So, her going into shock put me in shock?”

“Pretty much.”

Another shock of lightning flashed across the “sky” but this time, it struck and destroyed a boulder that was about thirty feet away from Luke and me. The crash made me jump and Luke grabbed my arm.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“She’s kind of self-destructing. This hasn’t happened before and the only way to get out is if she wakes up,” Luke warned.

“So, I just need to find Cate and wake us both up,” I confirmed with a nod.

Lightning cracked through the sky and I jumped further into Luke’s grip.

“Basically but you don’t have a lot of time. If she doesn’t wake up, you’ll be stuck here forever.”

His words hung heavy over me and I could feel pressure weighing down on my shoulders. Somehow, I had to find Cate and snap her out of this state. Even though she’d been through a lot in the last few hours, she didn’t have to go this far.

I managed a smile. “Well, at least I have you here as a guide.”

Luke straightened up and puffed out his chest. “Of course. So, all you have to do---”

An instant later, a flash of lightning took him with it. It was difficult to tell whether knowing he was already dead made this second loss easier or harder. At the same time, it was nice to see Luke again, to talk to him, and touch him.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to think. The best course of action would be to try to use my powers again and figure out the best route out. It definitely could not hurt after the last couple of tries.

I closed my eyes and focused on the best way to find Cate. However, it was like my powers didn’t exist at all. Before, it felt like they were just out of reach and this was definitely worse.

I opened my eyes as I felt my heartbeat pick up.

“Breathe, Y/N, breathe,” I hissed.

There was no time for my anxiety to spike. No one else was here except me and Cate and I was the only one who could find her.

After a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes and saw a large glossy oak door standing in front of me. The door looked familiar, and I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing its knob and pushing it open.

Seconds later, the bright light stunned me as I wandered into the space. When my eyes adjusted, I realized that I was in Dean Shetty’s office, complete with the expensive furniture and tapestry. Dean Shetty sat at her desk and stirred some sugar into her cup of tea. Cate was sitting across from her but she looked much more innocent, like she had when we first met.

She sipped from a pristine teacup and tapped her gloved fingers against the porcelain. She wore a white varsity sweater and ripped jeans.

“How is your first week as a sophomore?” Dean Shetty asked.

Cate nodded. “It’s going well so far. It feels different.”

“That’s only a natural feeling. You are much more in control of your powers and you are more experienced.”

“Thank you, Indira, it’s all because of your help.”

Dean Shetty shook her head and set her teacup down. “No, I only supported you; you did a lot of work. You are in the Top 20 for a reason.” She clasped her hands together. “Considering your progress, I think it’s time that I give you a new challenge.”

Cate raised her eyebrows. “Challenge?”

“Yes. I believe it is time for you to pass on what you learned and that you are ready now. There is a freshman that I would like you to meet. She is an incredibly bright, talented supe but, she needs some guidance to realize her full potential.” Dean Shetty grinned. “Considering how similar your abilities are, I believe you would be a fantastic match as her peer mentor.”

Cate paused. “Peer mentor?”

“Yes, a guide of sorts about how to succeed at Godolkin; who to befriend, what events to engage with, and how to gain more control over your abilities. These sorts of things tend to come better from someone who is of a similar age. What do you think?”

Even though it sounded like a question, it wasn’t. Dean Shetty’s tone was light but her eyes seemed to darken slightly and she straightened up a little as she eyed Cate. Cate stared at the teacup in her hand for a while, mulling things over.

“Okay, if you think it’s a good idea, then I’m open to it,” Cate declared.

Dean Shetty smiled. “Wonderful.”

“When do I meet her?”

A second later, someone knocked on the door behind me and Dean Shetty rose from her seat.

“Right now,” she commented.

As she walked towards me, Dean Shetty’s gaze never left the door. Even as she walked past me, she didn’t acknowledge me.

“They probably can’t see me,” I concluded.

Dean Shetty opened the door in one flawless motion but she stood in a way where I couldn’t see who was on the other side.

“Am I early?” a soft voice asked.

“No, you have impeccable timing. Come on in.”

Dean Shetty stepped aside and in walked a very anxious freshman version of myself. I watched as my freshman self fought to not grab at the black tennis skirt that swayed when she walked. The silk pressed curls bounced against the middle of her back as she approached Dean Shetty’s desk.

Cate stood when freshman me got close enough and Dean Shetty stood next to me.

“Cate, I’d like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N. She’s at the top of Brink’s first-year class and I am confident her star will continue to rise with proper guidance,” Dean Shetty announced.

Freshman me extended a hand towards Cate and Cate accepted it. “It’s nice to meet you. I saw your TikTok on supe psychology and it was really cool.”

Did I always ramble that much?

“I’m glad you liked it and it’s nice to meet you too,” Cate responded.

Dean Shetty gestured for Cate and freshman me to sit and she poured freshman me a cup of tea. “I was just telling Cate that I think she would be a wonderful peer mentor.”

“Peer mentor?” I echoed.

“Yes, someone your age who can help guide you through GOD U. I’m sure you’ve noticed how hectic it can be and not everyone survives here. Any freshman would kill to have personal time with a Top 20 supe but they do not all meet the standard to do so.”

Freshman me’s eyes widened with each word Dean Shetty spoke. “That’s amazing but, why me?”

“Like I said you are exceptional in your classes already and your skill set and Ms. Dunlap’s are similar and cause similar side effects. I believe she can help you navigate that as well as all things GOD U.”

Freshman me turned to Cate and smiled softly. “If you’re okay with it…”

“Of course. What is your ability, by the way?”

Freshman me rattled off my ability and Cate nodded, impressed. Then, Dean Shetty’s cell phone rang and she excused herself to take it. Cate leaned closer to Freshman Me.

“Don’t be so nervous. I already know that we’ll be friends,” she smiled.

Freshman me grinned in reply and I could feel the residual giddiness or that could have been me remembering this day. Cate was so impressive at that point that I was afraid that she wouldn’t want to be stuck with me or ignore me. But the anger that rose at the sight of Cate’s grin leapt out of me.

“If we were such good friends, why did you trap me in your head?” I hissed.

Cate turned to me. “I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I thought your powers were impressive and I could tell how powerful you were when we first met. I still want us to be friends.”

I stomped over to her. “Then, let’s get out of here. We can go together; we don’t have to stay here.”

But as quickly as she was there, she was gone. Suddenly, I was in the corner of the training gym and Luke, Andre, and Jordan were hanging out on the other end. Jordan was in their female form, wearing a baggy tank top and loose sweatpants, something they’d rarely wear outside of a memory.

I remembered this, this was the first time I ever trained with the Top Five. Cate had dragged me to the gym, insisting that I meet her friends and almost-boyfriend while also improving my combat skills. At the time, I thought she was crazy and that maybe it was a cruel prank but her genuine smile and encouragement were comforting.

Slowly, I approached the group, moving to stand near Jordan and listening to the conversation.

“So, who’s this girl Cate’s bringing?” Andre asked.

“Her mentee. Shetty set them up, but she sounds excited,” Luke answered.

“You don’t have a name?” Jordan asked.

Luke laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Cate mentioned it, but I can’t remember.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “Well, this freshman better not waste my time.”

Luke playfully elbowed her. “Stop being so grumpy. If Shetty paired Cate with her, it probably means she’s impressive. At least give her a chance.”

Jordan scowled. “Why do you always have to be nice?”

Andre clapped his hands on Luke’s shoulders. “Because he’s Golden Boy.”

Watching past Jordan in all their surliness was jarring and I felt like a freshman again.

A second later, the training door opened, and I watched as Cate strutted in confidently with an arm wrapped around freshman me’s shoulders. I could feel the terror and anxiety wafting off freshman me as I watched her nervously eye the trio.

“Sorry, we’re late!” Cate called.

“It’s okay,” Luke insisted with a dazzling grin.

I giggled as Freshman me’s knees wobbled; it was funny how such a short time ago I couldn’t even make eye contact with Luke.

“Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my peer mentee. She’s doing amazing in her crim classes but needs a little help with combat,” Cate explained.

Freshman me did a small wave to everyone and Andre smirked as he swaggered up to her.

“Cate was keeping you all to herself, huh?” Andre commented.

Freshman me hesitated. “Uh…”

“Relax, Andre,” Luke said.

“Yeah, I don’t want you freaking her out with all that rizz,” Cate mocked.

Andre rolled his eyes and muttered something about the couple being “cockblockers”.

“Oh, you must know Jordan since they TA the first-year class,” Luke acknowledged.

“Um, sort of, we never…really…talk,” Freshman me admitted.

“Aw, don’t be scared of Jordan, their bark is worse than their bite,” Cate encouraged.

Andre raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

Jordan scoffed. “I’ll give you this, you’re the least annoying freshman.”

“Thanks?”

“Okay, let’s split up into pairs.” Cate turned to Freshman me. “Don’t worry about getting hurt----we never go all out in training and we only spar until someone’s knocked out of bounds.”

Freshman me nodded and I watched as she side-eyed Jordan. Even though I’d known that I’d have to spar with them, it didn’t make my nervousness any better. However, the four of them split up amongst themselves, with Andre and Luke going first, followed by Cate and Jordan, and decided that the winners of those rounds would play rock-paper-scissors to determine who sparred with me.

Andre and Luke’s fight was interesting, and I forgot how close of a match they were. Of course, Luke used his fire and flying abilities to his advantage, but Andre was still a force to be reckoned with. Luke still won and Andre grinned as Luke helped him to his feet afterwards. Cate and Jordan’s fight was as surprisingly decent as I remembered. Even though Jordan switched between their forms depending on the circumstance, Cate managed to keep up for a while. It wasn’t until Jordan leg swept her, knocking her out of bounds, that the fight ended.

“Not…fair,” Cate panted as she sat up.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Jordan teased as she helped her up.

Cate smirked and they stepped out of the ring. Andre playfully rubbed his hands together.

“So, who gets to fight the freshman?” he sang.

“It’s Y/N,” Cate corrected.

“Right, sorry.”

Freshman me smiled softly as she stood from her seat and walked closer to the group. Luke and Jordan faced each other and played rock-paper-scissors. Playing best out of three was a little cruel since Freshman me hoped to spar with Luke. At the very least, he would be nice when I inevitably lost. Jordan was difficult to read but I’d had a feeling that they would taunt me about losing.

When Jordan won, I couldn’t read their expression but Freshman me was terrified.

“Stop looking like I’m going to kill you,” Jordan snapped.

Freshman me jumped and Cate placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Like I said, don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” she whispered.

At the time, I was so frazzled that I couldn’t focus on the outcome of the fight. Instead, I had focused on keeping my lunch down. Instead of joining Andre, Cate, and me on the sidelines, Luke stood on the mat, a couple of feet outside the circle. He waited a couple of seconds before signaling for Freshman me and Jordan to spar.

My shoulders hiked up towards my ears as I watched Freshman me clumsily evade Jordan’s attacks. At that time, I’d learned how to predict my opponent’s movements but I rarely landed strong attacks. Brink thought that because my mental strength was so high my physical strength had no choice but to lag.

“It would be unfair at that point. But, as a future supe, you do need to learn the basics,” he’d instructed.

Freshman me’s form was all over the place; her guard slipped every few seconds, her feet never had solid contact with the ground, and any kick or punch was weak at worst and sloppy at best. I cringed when she took a small energy blast from Jordan that knocked her out of bounds. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely a shock at the time.

“Jordan!” Cate admonished as she jumped to her feet.

She started to rush forward but Andre held her back and Luke shook his head.

“She’s fine,” Luke mouthed.

Freshman me panted on the ground, sweat staining the lime green Alo set she wore a couple of shades darker. Jordan shifted into their male form as they sauntered over to me and extended a hand. Freshman me stared at his hand like it would turn into a snake at any second.

“Come on, you just saw I won’t bite,” he quipped.

At his words, Freshman me accepted his hand and Jordan pulled her to her feet in one move. I smiled as she almost bumped into him, but Jordan steadied her by gripping my forearms.

“I never thought you’d be this clumsy,” he commented.

Freshman me huffed. “I’m, uh, usually not this bad.”

“Well, your form needs some work, and you need to build up more confidence when you’re on the offense. But, you were great at evading me.” “Until that last move.”

“Not a lot of people could avoid that, especially not a freshman. Don’t worry, we’ll work on it.”

Freshman me frowned as Jordan turned and started sauntering back to Cate and Andre. “Wh-what does that mean?”

Jordan glanced at her over his shoulder. “It means I’ll spar with you more often. You can’t be one of Brink’s new favorites and be this bad at fighting, freshie.”

Freshman me continued to gawk at him as he walked away. Andre finally let Cate run over to Freshman me and she insisted on looking her over. When Jordan finally got close enough to me, he had the smallest smile on his face. I stood just as he bent down to grab his water bottle.

“I still don’t get how you flipped like that. You mostly ignored me until then and I was a horrible sparring partner,” I commented.

Jordan chuckled. “I thought you’d get it by now.”

When he turned to face me, my stomach dropped. I didn’t understand why I still had this reaction to him after everything that happened. No matter what, every time he looked at me, I felt warm all over.

“You agreed to train with some of the highest ranking supes on campus and even though you were intimidated, you did your best and you didn’t give up,” Jordan stated. “Before we sparred, I thought Brink liked you so much because of your ability but it was more than that: you face challenges, even when you don’t want to, like a real supe.”  

“So do you,” I pointed out.

Jordan shook his head. “Yeah, but it’s different when you do it. I didn’t want to dig into any of this GOD U shit but you didn’t hesitate. It’s scary but also inspiring.”

It took all my strength to keep my mouth from falling open. I inspired Jordan? The same Jordan who did everything in their power to stay in the Top Three. The same Jordan who impressed one of the most influential crime experts so much that they became his TA.

None of this made any sense and I wondered how long Jordan thought of me like that.

Do they actually think about you like that?

I blinked and my heart sunk at the realization that Cate could have been messing with me; this was her domain after all.

 But what if Cate knew what Jordan was thinking or feeling at the time? It was possible, especially if she had her gloves off.

“Jordan---"

“And that’s when I said, ‘I hate to tell you buddy but, you’re looking at the wrong end’!” a loud voice cut me off.

When I turned to face the direction of the voice, I was suddenly standing in the corner of the dining room at Mom’s. The candlelight from the tables reflected off the wall, giving the space a false sense of warmth. The scent of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, and collard greens tickled my nose as I wandered further into the room.

At the long table, Mom and Dad sat on opposite ends, the large spread Ms. Murphy, the family cook, prepared obstructing their views of each other. My brother, Isaac, sat on one side, grinning from ear to ear as both our parents laughed. My fourteen-year-old self sat across from him, smiling as she pushed some greens around on her plate.

I remembered this, this was our first Thanksgiving after Isaac took the Buenos Aires job. The tension was so thick in the air that I could have choked on it and it nearly stopped my appetite.

Younger me slouched in her chair, clad in a red plaid cap-sleeve dress with her hair swept up in a loose curly bun. My face was so much rounder then. As I slowly traversed the table, Isaac pushed up the sleeves of his charcoal gray Brooks Brothers sweater.

Everyone liked Isaac, boys, girls, adults, everyone. If no one fell for his charm, his good sense of humor, or his fantastic social skills, they tended to be drawn to his tall, broad frame and smooth copper skin. When I was a kid, Isaac was everything.

“And that happened your first day?” Dad asked as he adjusted his glasses.

Isaac shook his head. “First week.”

“As expected from our brilliant son,” Mom bragged, sipping some Dom Perignon.

Isaac’s laugh sounded like a deeper-pitched version of Denzel Washington’s. Younger me smiled widely at the sound while I stared on, knowing full well that he probably got it from years of practice.

“I mean, I’m still learning a lot. Everyone I work with has been very welcoming,” Isaac insisted.

“Are you learning a lot about the culture? In school, we learned that it’s so vibrant there,” Younger me piped in.

Mom’s gaze cut towards me. “Y/N, don’t interrupt Isaac.”

Younger me shrank back and I flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Y/N was only asking a question, Y/M/N. She hasn’t seen him in months, it’s only natural.”

Isaac raised his hands. “It’s okay, everyone.” He looked at Younger me. “It’s a really good question, Y/N. These past two years, I’ve really immersed myself in the culture and I’ve even started picking up more Spanish. Also, the Argentinians are a very welcoming people and I’m so fortunate to work and live with them.”

For the first time, I realized how practiced Isaac sounded. It was the same way Coco sounded whenever she practiced speeches but, she was also going into political science.

Who was Isaac trying to impress or sway?

I made my way to Younger Me and stood against the wall behind her. Her eyes were so wide and sparkling, hanging on to Isaac’s every word. I wondered if that was the same way I looked when I was rushing Si Chi.

Younger Me ate a mouthful of yams and nodded happily. “I’m glad you’re having such a good time. We miss you here, though.”

“But this is a great opportunity for your brother, Y/N. We couldn’t hold him back here,” Dad interjected.

“Right, yeah---” “Yes,” Mom corrected.

“Yes,” Younger Me repeated, turning to Isaac. “Can you pass me the turkey?”

My stomach dropped as the memory echoed in my ears. I wrapped my arms around my waist and leaned further into the wall, rubbing my sides.

“Sure, Sis.” Isaac grabbed the dish and started to hand it over when Dad placed a hand on Isaac’s wrist.

“Y/N, you’ve already had a…generous helping. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he asked gently.

I thought I was sinking into the ground as I watched Younger Me grasp for words and could feel how flustered she was in my chest.

“You can’t blame Y/N, Dad. Ms. Murphy’s an amazing cook,” Isaac tried.

Mom scoffed. “It’s all that cooking that made her fat.”

The room was silent for a moment. Suddenly, Dad looked both shocked and understanding as he stared at Mom, Mom was staring at a painting on another wall as she sipped her drink, and Isaac couldn’t take his eyes off the turkey dish in his hands.

I could feel the ball begin in Younger Me’s throat and the tears burned in her eyes as she tried to keep herself together.

“Y/M/N,” Dad admonished.

Mom cut her gaze towards him. “Don’t use that tone with me. Unlike you, I care for our daughter’s health. It’s especially important considering her abilities and we have no idea how obesity could impact them!”

Dad set the turkey dish down and Isaac started nibbling on some mac and cheese. “Don’t do that, I care about Y/N’s health. She has made a lot of progress thanks to my encouragement.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re saying that like the dance lessons that I paid for had nothing to do with it?”

“Oh yes, Y/M/N, only your contributions supported our daughter. When will you stop acting like you’ve financially supported our children this entire time? Don’t forget who gave you the money to start your agency.”

If looks could kill, Dad would have been dead a long time ago. Mom threw her head back and drained the last of her glass. When she set the glass down, she maintained a neutral expression.

“You can stop throwing that in my face now, Y/D/N; I’m the one who grew it without your or anyone else’s help!”

They went back and forth for a few more minutes and I watched Younger Me’s mind race.

Finally, she interrupted, “Did I tell you that I got all As for the semester?”

The statement made Mom and Dad pause and they relaxed a little.

“That’s wonderful, Y/N,” Dad praised.

“That’s my little sister,” Isaac added with a grin. “Have you solved any cases recently?”

Younger Me grinned. “Well, there’s this one murder that happened out in Cincinnati; a woman was found in a dumpster horribly attacked. The police think it’s a one-off but, that makes no sense since it matches the MO of several other murdered women who were found in the state.”

“What’s the MO?” Isaac asked, sipping some pinot noir.

 That was when I noticed that there was something different about Isaac’s eyes. The light brown orbs looked slightly more playful than usual, almost mischievous.

“Oh, she was bludgeoned to death with a blunt object and raped post-mortem,” Younger Me rattled off.

“Y/N, we are eating,” Mom said slowly.

Younger Me hesitated. “Sorry, Mom, I was just answering Isaac’s question.”

“You’ll get better at reading situations, hon,” Dad assured.

Mom shook her head and started stabbing at some greens on her plate. “I don’t recall having this issue with Isaac.” She glanced warmly at him. “You were always so polite and well-mannered.”

“I was well-mannered,” I huffed.

Isaac smiled sheepishly. “It’s different for different people. Y/N will be fine.”

Younger Me nodded slightly but I knew she was trying to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

“I hope so. You know, Vought is merciless about who they select to represent them. With every B-list hero in my agency, they are trained to hell in PR. There can be no mistakes, Y/N, not if you want a future as a supe.”

Younger Me nodded. “Yes, Mom.”

After a few moments where the only sounds were cutlery hitting the plates, Ms. Murphy stepped into the dining room. The portly older black woman rubbed her hands on the towel attached to her apron.

“Pardon me but, dessert is about ready. Should I have the table cleared?” Ms. Murphy asked.

Isaac stood. “It’s alright, Ms. Murphy, I’ll clear the table.”

“Isaac, there’s no need, we have people for that,” Mom insisted.

“It’s okay, I’m happy to help.”

Ms. Murphy nodded and shot a glance in Younger Me’s direction before slipping back into the kitchen. Isaac gracefully collected his plate and started going around the table, collecting ours.

“What a polite boy I have,” Dad complimented, playfully punching Isaac’s arm as he past.

“Despite all that success you’re so humble,” Mom added. “Remember this when you start to get big, Y/N.”

Younger Me nodded and once Isaac was at the kitchen door, she stood. “I’ll go help with dessert.”

Neither of them responded as she trailed behind Isaac, and I trailed behind her. The kitchen smelled like pecan pie and my mouth watered. Ms. Murphy was fantastic at her job, but no one could do desserts like her. She claimed that the secret was that she used full-fat everything.

“A growing girl like you needs that,” she quipped once.

In one corner of the room, Ms. Murphy was adding the finishing touches to the immaculate pecan pie perched on a silver server. Isaac set the dirty dishes on the counter and opened the dishwasher. I decided the island was the best position since it gave me a good view of the two of us and kept me at a decent distance.

“Let me help you,” Younger Me insisted.

Isaac paused and nodded. “Sure, sis.”

“I’m gonna go take this out to your folks,” Ms. Murphy said, pecan pie in hand. She leaned down to Younger Me. “You eat as much of this as you want.”

Younger Me smiled softly as the older woman disappeared into the kitchen.

“It’s really good to have you home, Isaac,” Younger Me commented as she handed Isaac plates.

“You keep saying that,” Isaac joked.

“It’s true. It’s like before when you’re around,” Younger Me said.

Isaac tensed a little but continued loading the dishes. “So, how have things been since I was gone?”

“Horrible,” I stated.

At that time, Mom and Dad cooled off from World War III which was their divorce but they still fought every time they saw each other. Even though Dad moved out a while ago, they would still see each other for my dance recitals, cheer events, or awards ceremonies. And whenever one of them dropped me off with the other, the tension made me sick but the worst part was how they bad-mouthed each other.

They both said things that no daughter should hear about her parents.

“Fine, things have been fine,” Younger Me lied.

I could have cried for her as she fidgeted with a plate. At the time, I didn’t want to burden Isaac since all the phone calls and text conversations we had were so positive. He was doing important work and I didn’t want to complain. But at the same time, he had to know things were bad.

“That’s good to hear,” Isaac replied. “I want to make sure my little sister’s okay.”

Then, Younger Me hesitated and handed him a plate. She bit her bottom lip and several moments past before she said, “Actually, sometimes, things get really, really bad. They both say some things that I hope they don’t mean and sometimes, I know what’s coming but it still freaks me out.” Younger Me shrugged. “Sometimes, I wish I could escape far away from here, like you did.” As innocent as the words were, little did I know at the time that it would be enough to set Isaac off. He straightened from loading the dishes and closed the dishwasher door stronger than he had to. When he turned to Younger Me, the pleasant expression he wore all night disappeared; his jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed.

“You think I escaped?” he asked slowly.

Younger Me blinked and the realization of her words poured over her. “Isaac, I didn’t mean----”

“You think I took that job so that I could run away? It was a fantastic opportunity, and I would have been an idiot not to take it!” he hissed.

Younger Me flinched and I gritted my teeth. “No, it’s great, Isaac, really. We’re all so proud of you and you’ve been doing so much great work. I just meant that it must be nice to get away.”

“I would never want to get away from my family. Adults fight sometimes, Y/N, grow up.”

Isaac’s words stung against my face and I clenched my fists as Younger Me fumbled for words. As Younger Me pled more and more with Isaac, my anger grew.

“I’m sorry, Isaac, really. It’s okay, everything’s okay, don’t worry about us,” Younger Me insisted.

I scoffed. “Nothing was okay, and you had to know that.”

Then, Isaac’s gaze left Younger Me’s and burned into mine. “Stop overexaggerating, Y/N. You never went crazy and you got into the special supe school; you’re doing just fine, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

It was hard to tell whether Isaac’s tone or his insistence on being right was the nail in the coffin but I didn’t care as I charged around the island and stood in front of Younger Me.

“Are you kidding me? I had a million anxiety attacks, and I could barely sleep. No one noticed, though, because I almost killed myself keeping up good grades and trying not to eat too much because Mom and Dad would comment,” I snapped.

Isaac hesitated. “Like I said, though, you’re doing fine now.”

“I’m not fine!” I exclaimed. “I never was but I couldn’t show that because someone had to be the adult in this house. I still don’t understand how you all thought that was okay when it wasn’t.” I scoffed. “Wait, I have an idea, maybe it’s because perfect little Doctor Isaac couldn’t be burdened with the fact that he abandoned his little sister in hell!”

“I didn’t abandon you, it was a good job!” Isaac argued.

The laugh that erupted from my chest was spiteful and it had no joy or air in it. Then, I couldn’t stop laughing, to the point that I doubled over. Isaac must have thought I had lost it but I didn’t care as I straightened up.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, frowning.

“You could have gotten a surgeon job anywhere in the country and you’re telling me the best offer was ten thousand miles away? You graduated at the top of the class, you had to have other offers.” I huffed. “I had to be so deep in denial but I knew, I had to know. But what does it matter as long as you’re still the favorite.”

“I’m not the favorite; you’re the one they made a superhero,” he defended.

“Please, Isaac, they think I’m a freak at worst and a profitable freak show at best. They never criticized you, they only ever did that with me.” I sniffed and looked up at him. “By the way, why didn’t you ever tell them that I wasn’t fat?”

Isaac hesitated. “What?”

“You were in school for, what, ten years and you became an expert on the human body and health. You could have stopped them from tormenting me about food and my body, but you didn’t. Why did you never defend me?”

His silence almost sent me into another fit of mad laughter, that and the stunned expression on his face. The giddiness and rage that flowed through my veins was almost dizzying as I stared at Isaac. I didn’t blink for so long that his face began to blur. Then, my legs started moving and I wandered around the state-of-the-art kitchen.

“You were always better at this than me-----the performing. It must have been easy coasting as an only child and every gold star, and every A was praised.” I paused and poked at the pot of greens. “They were happy back then.”

“Y/N, you’re talking crazy,” Isaac insisted.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not. All the overthinking and overanalyzing finally helped me realize the truth: you all hate me. No matter what cases I solved, how well I did in school, or how much weight I lost; it was never good enough.” Isaac was silent and I think it was the first time he didn’t know what to say. It was okay because I knew exactly what to say.

“This whole time, I thought that I had to earn people’s love and that if I just worked hard enough, I could get Mom to call me pretty or Dad to post a picture of us without trying to spite Mom.” I finally made eye contact with Isaac. “You made me think that I was broken.”

Then, the kitchen door swung open behind me and Mom and Dad entered the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Mom asked.

“We heard yelling,” Dad added.

I smiled as I turned to them. “You all made me think I was worthless unless I was perfect. I thought I was going to die so many nights because I made one mistake in an essay or lost a friend because my powers creeped them out. But none of you cared.”

None of them spoke and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear any of them. All they could do was lie since I finally realized their true feelings.

My family hated me.

None of them ever really loved me.

My vison blurred as I tried to make eye contact with them again. “How could you think I could end up perfect when you all screwed me up so bad? You make me question myself so much that I’m not even sure what I want anymore.”

I could feel the sobs coming on but I willed them to stay at bay for a moment.

“I’ve met a lot of amazing people at Godolkin, crazy, talented people. But two of them stand out. One of them is this standoffish bigender person who always has a comeback but is actually the kindest person I’ve ever met. The other one is this amazing girl who can see the brighter side of things no matter what, even when people betray her.” I sighed. “And I like both of them, I want to be with both of them, and I don’t know what any of it means and as much as that terrifies me, I’m so happy that I met them.”

They must have all been stunned but I couldn’t focus on them as my chest felt lighter but my throat constricted and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I slowly walked away from the oven and back to my original spot at the island. My hands crept onto the marble counter and I realized that my knees were wobbling.

“You know what’s funny, Isaac?”

Isaac jumped but eyed me.

“If you wanted to abandon me, you didn’t have to go to another continent. Mom and Dad managed to do it and I saw them every day.”

Then, the sobs broke from me and I pressed my hands to my mouth, trying to shove them back in but there was no point. My shoulders shook as I slipped to the ground, the pain barely registering to my brain as I hiccupped into my hands. The tears were hot as they ran down my face and everything hurt so bad and felt so good at the same time; it was like an emotional massage.

Everything that I thought and felt was finally out in the open and none of it was even real.

For a second, I thought a toddler was wailing at the top of their lungs but I almost started laughing again when I realized it was me.

This was it; I was going to be stuck in Cate’s head forever; alone and with nothing to show for it.

The first thing I noticed was something warm against my back. The second was a pair of strong arms wrapped around me. The grip was firm but non-threatening like the owner wanted me to know they were there. The third thing I noticed was Marie’s brown eyes staring back at me as she knelt in front of me.

I paused in my sobbing and sniffled. “Ar-are y-y-you r-r-real?”

“Yeah, I’m real,” she assured.

Her words made me freeze and I started trying to wipe my face, but Marie carefully grabbed my hands. Her thumbs rubbed the top of my hands, and I could feel my sobs slowing down.

“H-h-how’d y-y-you g-get h-here?”

“We found you and Cate and somehow got transported into her head,” Marie explained.

I sniffed, wincing at my congested nose.

“We got to go through a lot of memories, freshie,” Jordan mumbled behind me.

I tensed in their grip and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Andre standing off to the side. He glared at my family with so much malice that my parents cowered next to Isaac.

I gasped. “Th-this i-is s-so embarrassing. H-how m-much of t-that d-did y-you hear?”

“We heard everything you told your brother,” Andre stated.

Marie placed one of her hands on my face. “Breathe, Y/N, you’re hyperventilating.”

It took a couple of minutes, but I managed to even my breathing and once I did, I felt like shrinking away from her and Jordan.

“I can’t believe you were going through all this and never said anything,” Jordan muttered.

I shrugged. “How could I? You, Andre, Cate, Luke, Marie, and everyone in Si Chi are perfect. If I was going to be accepted, I had to be perfect but now you all know that I’m a mess.”

Marie grabbed my other hand again. “Everyone’s a mess; it doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.”

“If we’ve learned anything by wandering around in Cate’s head, it’s that everyone’s a mess,” Jordan mentioned.

I shook my head. “Don’t say that to try to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.”

Jordan quickly rattled off everything they saw: from Cate and Indira meeting to Andre and Cate cheating to Jordan knowing about Brink drugging Luke to Marie killing her parents. Even though he was brief, everything hit an emotional nerve and it almost shook me back into being myself.

“So don’t act like you’re special or anything, we’re all screw-ups,” Jordan concluded.

“And just so you know, I don’t think that you liking me and Jordan makes you weird or bad,” Marie confessed.

At her words, I jerked my head back to Jordan. “You told her?”

“No, you said it while you were yelling at your brother!” Jordan exclaimed.

My face warmed at the realization, and I groaned as I buried my head into Jordan’s shoulder. This day could not have gotten any worse.

“Wait, you told Jordan before you told me?” Marie asked.

“I was going to tell you but then I got sucked in here,” I murmured.

Marie huffed. “Well, you’ll both have to make it up to me once we get out of here.”

Wait, both?

Marie couldn’t be serious; it would be impossible for her to agree to any of this. It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. That didn’t stop my heart from pounding faster though as I leaned away from Jordan’s shoulder to look at her.

Before I could say anything, Jordan and Marie both helped me to my feet.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Jordan offered.

“Uh-huh.”

At that moment, Andre approached my family and they tried to scramble away from him.

“You should all know that Y/N is the best thing to come from you shitty people. If I see you outside of here, we might have some problems,” Andre threatened.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” Mom begged.

It was hard for me not to laugh as Andre slowly backed away, flipping them off as he went. I laughed a little as he came closer to us.

“Thanks, Andre,” I said.

“No problem. Does anyone know how we get out of here?” he asked.

“We have to find Cate; I saw her briefly earlier but I haven’t been able to find her since,” I admitted.

“If you found her once, you can find her again,” Jordan said.

“Not unless I find you.”

In an instant, my mom’s dining room turned into Cate’s dorm, complete with green accents and comfortable furniture. She sat on her bed, eyes bloodshot and downturned. Marie was the first to approach her and Jordan and I trailed behind her.

“Cate, I’m so glad we found you,” Marie said.

“You have to wake up,” Jordan added.

Cate shook her head. “I don’t want to. You all can wake up but I’m going to stay here.”

Marie frowned. “You’re going to die? But, there’s so much we can do once we’re out of here.”

“Yeah, we can expose what’s going on at the school but we need your help,” Jordan insisted.

No matter what anyone said, Cate remained unresponsive. Both Jordan and Marie tried to reason with her while Andre snapped at her for everything that happened. All I could do was watch and wonder if her behavior made sense. In a way, her entire world fell apart and she’d exposed everything in all of us. She must feel alone but what did she think would happen?

How could she incense me and make me feel sorry for her at the same time?

Finally, I stepped over to her and bent down so that we were eye to eye. “Despite all the psychological torment I experienced in here, all I can think about is what else you haven’t told us.” I swallowed. “Because I have a really bad feeling that if Shetty used you like this, she would use me too.”

“No, Y/N, Indira wouldn’t do that.”

“She’s been in your head since you were a kid, Cate, it would make sense that she would go after Y/N too and you wouldn’t notice it,” Jordan pointed out.

Cate hesitated and then looked at her gloved hands. “This is all my fault.”

“You can make it right but not if you stay in here,” Marie said.

I didn’t know how much time had passed as Cate mulled over her options. All I knew was as she was deciding, my heart continued pounding in my ears as the lightning cracked above our heads. My hands shook as the cracking got louder and louder.

Then, it stopped.

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 43

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 42

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescvntyclubgf @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @songbirdmunson @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @bloodibambiidoll @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog @losingmygrasponreality

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, light anxiety, smoking, crying, mentions of dead parents, anger, fluff

Word Count: 6.6k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 43: Celebration

Friday, June 8th, 1990

You stand in front of your bedroom mirror, inspecting yourself as you smooth down the front of your black graduation gown. Your hair is straightened, the ends sitting right at your shoulders. You've applied subtle makeup to your face, rosy pink lipstick on your pout. You take a deep breath, reaching for your cap that's resting on the dresser. You look it over for a moment, namely the tassel with a 'Class of 1990' charm laced onto it. You smile to yourself, before bringing the cap to your head. You slip it on, straightening it out while trying to avoid messing up your hair. Today is the day. After four long years of working your ass off, you're finally graduating from college.

"You ready, sweetheart? We're gonna be late." Eddie calls to you from the living room, currently dangling feathers on a string in front of Arwen while she tries to jump up and catch them.

"Yeah. Coming." You call back, giving yourself a final once-over. Your reflection smiles back at you, all dressed up and ready to go. You feel ready, too. To transition from a dutiful, diligent student, into an educated adult. You take another deep breath, calming your nerves before leaving the room. You walk down the hall to meet Eddie, finding him playing with the cat. He hears your heels clicking on the floor, looking up at you. His mouth cracks into a wide smile, immediately abandoning the cat to get to you.

"Well, hot damn! Look at you, bookworm!" He exclaims, making you giggle as he takes your hands in his. "I'm so proud of you, Y/N. You've worked hard for this." Eddie continues, absolutely beaming with joy at your achievement. "You ready?" He asks you again, noticing your hands shaking in his grasp.

"Yeah. I am." You answer assuredly, nodding your head. Your tassel sways at the movement.

"Good." He says, giving you a rewarding peck. "We'd better get going." He pulls away, picking up your purse to hand it to you.

"Shit, I need my speech." You say abruptly, about to dash back down the hall for it. But Eddie stops you.

"I already put it in your bag, angel. I knew you'd be worried about losin' it." He chuckles, putting you at ease.

"Thanks, Eds." You sigh in relief, peeking inside the purse just to make sure. The little note cards are safely tucked inside, in between your wallet and compact mirror. "Okay. Let's go!" You chirp, ready to get this show on the road.

You've been awarded the coveted opportunity to give the commencement speech at the ceremony, as you're graduating with highest honors. Everyone you know is coming, sure to take up a good chunk of seats in the auditorium to cheer you on. Later, there's to be a rehearsal dinner hosted at Applebee's in preparation for yours and Eddie's nuptials in two days. What can you say? Neither of you want to wait a second longer than necessary to get hitched. You promised your mother that you'd hold off until you at least finish school, but she never specified exactly how long to wait after you get that diploma. But, there's been no complaints about it from her, or anyone else. It's a special day that belongs to you and Eddie, so no one else truly has any say over it. 

You drive to the college in the Datsun, having to speed a little to make it on time. You barely take a moment to give Eddie a kiss good-bye once you park, zooming off towards the auditorium to get backstage and in place. You rehearsed for the ceremony last week with the Dean, and a few other students who'll lead each section in alphabetical order to walk across the stage. The Dean greets you as you enter the wings of the auditorium, hurriedly leading you to the spot where you'll wait for her to announce you to the audience. You put your purse somewhere safe, taking the note cards out and shuffling them around to make sure they're all in order. Your hands shake, nearly dropping them all onto the floor. Keep it together, you've got this. You reassure yourself, swallowing thickly. You can hear the cacophony of voices on the other side of the heavy velvet curtains, hundreds of overlapping voices anxiously waiting for the ceremony to begin. You try not to remind yourself of just how many people can fit in all those seats, but your brain has other ideas. You're worried that you're going to choke out there, or worse yet, lose your lunch all over the podium. 

"Hey, Y/N! You excited?" Jamie approaches you from his spot in line, checking up on you. He's noticed you poring over your speech whenever you've had downtime at work these last couple weeks. 

"If by excited, you mean nauseous, then sure. I'm stoked." You reply queasily. You swear you can feel your face turning a sickly shade of green. 

"Oh, don't say that. You're gonna do great! If there's anyone I know who can do this, it's you. Besides, you're the smartest girl in our class." He tries to put you at ease, taking your clammy hand in his. "Relax, Y/N. You could go out there and tell a bunch of knock-knock jokes, and still end up sounding like a genius." Jamie chuckles, drawing a light laugh from you as well. His words coax your stomach acid back where it belongs, heart no longer racing, breathing steadying once more. 

"You're right. I'm overthinking things." You give him a smile as a wave of relief washes over you. All you needed was a familiar face in this crowd of students waiting in the wings to set you straight. You wish Eddie could've been the one to deliver these last-minute words of encouragement, but he's stuck in the audience at the moment. Fuck it. As long as it comes from someone you trust, it'll get the job done. 

"Alright, places, everyone!" Dean Edwards addresses you all, clapping her hands together. She's looking very nice this afternoon, dressed in a red power suit with matching sensible shoes and flawlessly set curls. "Now, Y/N, I'll announce you after I welcome everybody and thank them for coming. Then, you'll give your speech." She recites the plan one last time for everybody, ensuring no one forgets at the last second. "Then, you'll find your place in line, and we'll start calling names. Now, remember to smile, everyone! And no rude gestures, no immature stunts! We're here to celebrate all your hard work, and we don't need any funny business today. Got it?" She asks, awaiting a resounding 'yes, ma'am'. The student body agrees to her terms, ready to get this shit moving already. "Good. Here we go, the beginning of the rest of your lives." She smiles with pride, signaling to the volunteers behind the scenes to open up the curtains. The heavy sheets of red part ways, pulling along to opposite sides of the stage. Edwards makes her way to the podium, heels clicking on the floor as she walks. She clears her throat, leaning into the mic to speak. 

"Good afternoon, and welcome to the graduation ceremony of Hawkins Community College Class of 1990." A round of applause breaks out in the crowd, and the Dean waits a moment for it to die down. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that we're all very proud to be here today. Families, friends, faculty, underclassmen, and graduates. We've all gathered here to see another accomplished batch of young people see their way out of our halls, and into the wonderful world of adulthood." She pauses to make room for another round of whoops and cheers. "One student in particular has far exceeded this university's expectations, setting a historical record of a consistent, spotless grade point average for her entire four-year career at this school. The first to do so at this university, as well as any other university in the state of Indiana. Without further ado, I'd like to welcome to the stage, graduating with highest honors, Ms. Y/N Henderson!" Edwards steps aside now, clapping her hands for you, as does the entire auditorium.

You walk out onto the stage, head held high as you make your way to the podium. You smile wide, finding your personal cheerleaders in the crowd. Mom, Dustin, Wayne, Ian and James, the Sinclair's, the Wheeler's, Steve, Chrissy with JJ in her lap, Robin, the Hopper/Byers Clan, Angie and her kids, the members of Corroded Coffin, everybody from the Hawk, even Dotty and her husband. And most importantly, Eddie, the love of your life. All sat in the rows of seats, cheering you on. Your heart swells at finding them all sitting there, here to see you on one of your proudest days. You never thought in a million years that you'd have so many people that love and care for you. This past year has been absolutely chock full of surprises, both good and bad. But, gaining this massive family to call yours is definitely one of the sweetest. You reach the podium, setting your note cards down on its slanted surface. You follow in the Dean's footsteps, clearing your throat and gathering yourself before you speak.

"Thank you, Dean Edwards. Good afternoon, fellow graduates, esteemed faculty, proud parents, and distinguished guests. It's a privilege to stand before you today, awarded with highest honors." You read from your cards, addressing your audience. Once these words leave your lips, however, the rest of your speech feels... wrong. You've spent so long 'perfecting' it. Reading numerous books about writing speeches, constantly editing and rewriting, even throwing the whole thing out to start over a couple of times. Despite all of that stressing, and practicing in the bathroom mirror with the door locked, you realize now that this over-rehearsed piece of crap just won't do. "Um..." You hold the now useless cards in your hands, shaking your head. Your eyes meet the crowd again, locking onto Eddie's, who's looking rather worried. He probably thinks you're going to either flip out, pass out, or run away. But none of that is happening today. Not a chance.

After a period of silence that feels like eternity, though it's only a few seconds, you open your mouth to speak again. "I'm sorry. I've just realized that none of this is what I want to say." You laugh lightly, waving your little bundle of cards before tossing them to the side. Dean Edwards gives you an odd look, wondering what kind of stunt you're trying to pull here. You take a deep breath, deciding to wing it. You know in your heart what you want to say, and it's far better than the bullshit you've spent weeks planning. "Look, I could bore you all with a cliché, trite speech full of inspirational quotes and repetitive phrases. But after four years, I think we've all earned more than that." You say with purpose, straightening your shoulders. You can feel a few hundred pairs of eyes staring at you inquisitively,  wondering if the 'star student' has finally cracked under the pressure. But they couldn't be more wrong. "What I'm trying to say, is that this town has been through a lot these last few years. Hawkins may be a miniscule blip on the map, but we've seen enough hardship, and triumph, to rival the largest cities in the world."

"Speaking from experience, this past year alone has been a rollercoaster I was unwittingly strapped into. There were a lot of times where I just wanted off, to hide away and ignore the world in front of me. I lost my father, I testified against a past abuser in court, and for a minute there, I nearly threw away the greatest love of my life." You continue, completely off-script. But as you scan over the crowd, you can tell they're receptive to it. "In spite of all these painfully difficult things, I persevered. It would be so easy to say I did that all on my own, but it's a universal truth that no man, or woman, is capable of that. I owe a good majority of my strength, my pursuit to push forward no matter what comes my way, to the people who have been there for me in my darkest moments. My mom, my brother, my friends, and my lovely fiancé." You smile, finding their eyes again. They reflect your expression, giving approving nods.

"But, enough about me. This day is about all of us. Like Dean Edwards said, what's taking place today is a vital change in our lives. We're growing up, starting our careers, taking the tools we've been given and applying them out in the world. That prospect can be terrifying for most, we get too accustomed to a routine. Going to class, taking notes, writing papers, studying for exams. Partying, for some of us." You earn a light chuckle and a couple whoops from the crowd at that. "Then one day, it's all over. And whether we feel ready for it or not, it's here. But I think一 no, I know, that the class of 1990 is ready for it. We're this town's future, and I can honestly say that it's never looked brighter." You speak emphatically, sensing that it's about time to wrap it up. "And on that note, I propose we light up this room with the beautiful faces of this graduating class!" You finish your speech, bringing everyone to their feet as they applaud and cheer for you. 

Dean Edwards gives you a moment to bask in the applause, before coming over to you. "Great job, Ms. Henderson. Short and sweet. You had me worried for a minute there." She says quietly to you.

"So did I." You reply, overjoyed that you didn't make a total fool of yourself. She gestures for you to leave as the noise dies down, and you find your place in line with the 'H's. Your heart is nearly bursting, unable to believe that you not only went rogue (which is so unlike you), but that you actually managed to pull it off. 

"That was amazing, Y/N. And you didn't even barf!" Jamie jokes from the row beside you, giving your elbow a small poke with his finger. 

"Thanks, Jamie." You giggle, relieved that all you have to do now is wait for your name to be called and receive your diploma. It's all smooth sailing from here on out.

"Pomp and Circumstance" plays over the sound system, and Dean Edwards starts calling the students to the stage one by one, moving their tassels from one side of their cap to the other, and handing them their diploma before they head straight on the other end of the backstage area. Families and friends cheer for their graduates, whooping and hollering with intense pride. Jamie's name gets called next as he's far earlier in the alphabet than you, and you give a cheer from your spot for him. He receives a good share of noise, undoubtedly from his parents and your coworkers at the Hawk. It takes a good while for your turn to come up, but you slowly inch closer to the spot where you'll be prompted back onstage as name after name is called. It's a good thing you wore comfortable shoes, or else your feet would be killing you by now. 

"Y/N Henderson!" Edwards calls your name finally, and you immediately hear everyone who came here for you erupt in raucous elation. You dare to look over at where they're seated as you walk over to get your diploma. Mom is crying profusely with joy, holding that damn polaroid camera up to her mascara-stained eye. Dustin is jumping up and down, clapping almost violently as he cries your name in excitement. Eddie's got his hands cupped around his mouth for maximum volume, shouting out how proud he is, how much he loves you. The others are just as rowdy, not giving a single shit how unseemly their overzealousness may look to the other attendees. They came here to cheer you on, and they're damn well gonna do it. You can't help cracking a huge smile at their antics, simultaneously embarrassed and entertained. That's family for you. The Dean hands you your diploma, moving your tassel just like she has all the others. "That's some family you've got there." She comments kindly, and all you can do is nod. You move along, finding Jamie to hang around him until this thing is all over.

"I guess you lost your speech after all, bookworm." Eddie teases once you find him and the others in the parking lot after the ceremony has drawn to a close and the auditorium has been cleared out. His arm slips around your waist immediately, his head leaning towards yours to give you a brief kiss.

"Guess I did." You reply, still grinning as all the excitement hasn't left you yet.

"Well, I thought it was just wonderful, sugarpuff! I'm so proud of you!" Mom practically squeals, nudging Eddie out of the way to give you a suffocating hug.

"Thanks, Mom." You strain, barely able to breathe in her hold. 

"Nice job up there, kiddo." Hopper grins, Joyce on his hip as always.

"Totally! The way you just threw your speech away and winged it? So badass!" Robin adds. The others join the conversation, their compliments and congratulations overlapping as they all talk in an animated manner. Mom also insists on everyone taking pictures with you in your cap and gown, holding up your diploma while wearing a cheesy smile. It's a bit overwhelming, if you're being honest. You smile and nod, accepting their statements with gratitude as Mom snaps photo after photo.

"Alright, alright. I think she's had enough, guys." Eddie cuts in, noticing the rather dizzy look on your face once everybody gets their turn. "We'd better get goin', if you wanna have time to make that stop before dinner." He says to you, and you nod.

"I really appreciate you all coming today, it means everything to me. If it wasn't clear already, it's having all of you in my life that inspired me to speak from the heart like that." You announce to your large gathering.

"Oh, you're gonna make me cry again!" Mom sniffles.

"I have a feeling there'll be a lot of that this weekend, Mom." Dustin chimes in, rolling his eyes.

"As I was saying, we'll see you guys at Applebee's for dinner. Eddie and I just have a small errand to run." You pull the focus back on you, bidding the others farewell until you meet up again at the restaurant. They give you friendly waves and parting words back, and Eddie leads you back to the car. "You mind driving, Eds?" You ask him as you reach the Datsun.

"Sure thing, sweetheart. You doin' okay? Today's been kinda crazy." He replies with concern, taking the keys when you hand them to him.

"Yeah, I'm good. This is just gonna be really hard." You say, giving him a small smile as you slide into the passenger seat. 

"I know, babydoll. But you can do it. And I can come with you, if that'll help." Eddie offers, putting the keys in the ignition, taking hold of your hand once the car starts.

"No, I have to do this on my own. One last difficult thing, and then we can focus on the happiest day of our lives." You sigh, squeezing his hand. He squeezes back, pulling out of the parking lot to head over the Roane County Cemetery.

During the entire span of the wedding planning process, your mother has been commenting on the fact that your father isn't here to see any of it. She hadn't really done that before his death, too pissed at him to waste a single syllable lamenting the loss of him witnessing your milestones. She must've gotten it out of her system in all those letters she used to send to him and Angie. Now that she no longer has that outlet, Dad's name has been leaving her lips a lot around you. You'd love to say that it hasn't been weighing on you, that you don't give a rat's ass that he's not here to see you thriving. As much as it kills you to admit it, you wish so badly that he was. 

Eddie pulls up to the cemetery, shifting the car into park. "Here we are, princess. You sure you don't need me to come with you?" He asks you one final time, willing to do whatever you ask. He wants to be supportive of you, despite his surprise that you wanted to visit your father's grave in the first place. You made it pretty clear at the guy's funeral that you had no intention of wasting another thought on him. But, once you explained to him what Claudia had been saying, and how it made you feel, he understood completely. And he'll do anything it takes to make sure you're ready to go on this lifelong journey with him. George Henderson is the final loose end, and the time has come for you to tie it off.

"I got this, love. Thank you for bringing me here, and for understanding." You give him a quick peck before you get out of the car, hoping to hide the tears already welling in your eyes.

"Of course, baby. I'll always do whatever I can to make you happy." Eddie says sweetly, letting you go off on your own. He watches you make your way to the paved path in the graveyard, pulling out his cigs so he can smoke to pass the time. 

You walk silently through the cemetery, listening to the chirping birds overhead, feeling the warm sun shining down on your skin. It's a really beautiful day, and it's thankfully been forecast to be perfectly blue and sunny all weekend for your wedding. You follow the trail, passing by headstone after headstone, memorial tree after memorial tree, until you eventually find the marker you've been looking for. George Henderson. You stray from the path, stepping onto the well-kept grass. You approach his grave cautiously, becoming highly aware that his body is a mere six feet under where you now stand. You sit on your knees in front of the headstone, taking a deep breath. It's so peaceful here, not another living soul in sight. It almost feels wrong to break the silence. But it's what must be done.

"Hi, Dad." You start, softly as not to wake the dead. Not that you really believe in all that stuff, despite Eddie's numerous attempts to convince you otherwise. You feel a bit silly talking to your father at all. He's not alive anymore, it's not like he can hear you. But, this is as close as you're ever going to get. "If you couldn't already tell, I graduated college today. Top of my class and everything." You continue, fiddling with a loose thread on your gown that's ridden up above your knees. "I kicked ass with my commencement speech, too." You add, taking a moment to think over what to say next. "I still don't forgive you, ya know. For leaving us, leaving Mom. You nearly killed her doing that." You find yourself getting frustrated, almost angry, as well as sad. It's like all these pent up emotions are just spilling out of you, when you didn't even know they were inside you at all. 

"You're a real asshole, you know that?" You say bitterly, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. Your heart aches, but letting these words out makes it feel good. You decide to keep going, until all the pain is finally gone. "You were supposed to be here! To cheer me on when I walked across that stage! To take a picture with me in my cap and gown!" You shout at him, not giving a damn about disturbing the deceased anymore. "But you weren't! You weren't here for any of it!" You sob violently, doubling over yourself, hands digging harshly into the grass as a way to hold onto something. You begin to wail, chest heaving as the lap of your gown becomes wet with tears and spittle. Now that you've opened the floodgates, you can't seem to get them closed again. You cry helplessly for what feels like hours, getting dirt under your nails from clutching the ground so hard. Your abdomen starts to hurt, the muscles yanking taut over and over as you weep.

"Y/N." You hear Eddie's voice above you, his eyes widening in shock to find you in this state. He must've heard the heart-wrenching noises all the way from the car, coming over to investigate. "Sweetheart." He says sadly, getting down in the grass with you. He kneels beside you, moving to gently pull your hands out of the tangled green you're twisting in your grasp. You let him, unable to put up a fight. He pulls you into his lap, shushing you as you continue to cry. You immediately envelop yourself around him, burying your head in his neck. Your arms wrap over his shoulders, legs encircling his waist. "Shh, it's okay, honey. I'm right here." He coos, rocking you back and forth to soothe you. He was worried this would happen, that this was a bad idea, though he never said it out loud. 

You slowly calm down in his embrace, your sobs quieting, tears flowing in a steady stream as opposed to pouring like heavy rainfall. "I'm sorry." You say weakly.

"It's okay, baby." Eddie reassures, rubbing your back with his hand. "Let's get outta here." He suggests, but you shake your head. "It's time to go." He calmly insists.

"I'm not done, Eds." You lift your head to look at him, needing him to understand. You have to finish this.

"Y/N, I really don't think一" He attempts to explain, but you don't need him to.

"I can do this. I have to." You say, unwilling to relent.

"Fine." Eddie sighs, knowing there's no way you're dropping this. "But I'm staying with you."

"I want you to." You nod in agreement, turning yourself around in his hold to face George's grave again. You take a deep breath again, exhaling shakily. You feel ridiculous doing this in front of Eddie, but you're sure he won't judge you for it. "Dad, this is Eddie." You introduce him. "He's my fiancé, and we're getting married in a couple of days." You smile, happy to say those words out loud any chance you get. "I love him more than anything, and he loves me just as much. Maybe even more. He makes me so happy, happier than I ever thought I could be." You giggle tearfully, Eddie's arms giving you an affectionate squeeze. "You should've been here to walk me down the aisle, Dad. That's one of the few jobs a father is supposed to have in his daughter's life. You're missing out, because Eddie and I planned a bitchin' wedding." Eddie chuckles quietly at that, the sound rumbling in his chest. "But, as we've done with everything else, we'll get by just fine without you." You finish, left with nothing else to say to your father. 

You and Eddie move to stand up, ready to get the hell out of this place. "C'mon, angel." He takes hold of your hand, about to lead you back to the car. 

You stay put for a moment, giving George's grave a final glance. "Bye, Dad. Your pumpkin doesn't need you anymore." You finish, before turning away to follow the path back to the parking lot. "Ugh, my face is a total mess." You groan as you assess the damage in the mirror inside the car. 

"It's not that bad, Y/N. You look beautiful to me." Eddie contradicts lovingly. In all honesty, you do look a bit demented with the dark tracks of mascara streaked down your face. Though he'd never tell you a thing like that.

"Kiss-ass." You grumble playfully, reaching inside your purse for some tissues to clean yourself up. You wipe away the tears and smeared makeup, applying a fresh coat of mascara and lipstick. It's not a full face like you had before, but it'll do. At least no one will know you've been crying your eyes out. "All set, love. We've got a dinner to get to." You chirp, putting your cosmetics back in your bag, pulling out your smokes instead. You definitely need a cigarette after all that, especially if you're going to deal with a chaotic meal attended by a total of thirty-eight people. 

"You sure you're up for that, princess? You've been through a lot today. Everyone would understand if we cancel on dinner." He doesn't mean to come off as coddling you, but he knows how stressed out you've been lately. And with what just happened in the cemetery, he can't help worrying that it's all getting to be too much for you. 

"I'm fine, Eds. I promise. Everything from here on out feels like the easiest thing in the world, compared to this little detour." You speak honestly, taking a drag of your freshly-lit cigarette. 

"Yeah? Why's that?" He asks with a knowing grin on his face.

"Because I have you, baby. We've both been ready to do this for a long time. Nothing can stop us now, and I don't want to waste a single second." You take his hand in yours again, interlacing your fingers. 

"Neither do I, sweetheart." Eddie replies softly. You bask in this heartfelt moment together, adoringly gazing into one another's eyes. "I love you so much, Y/N. I can't wait to marry you." He says as his eyes begin to water.

"I love you too, Eddie. Ugh, you're gonna make me ruin my makeup again!" You laugh, much happier tears pricking your ducts. 

"Sorry, honey. Emotions are runnin' high these last few days." Eddie laughs with you, letting go of your hand and wiping his face so he can drive. He grips the steering wheel, taking a deep breath to regain composure. "'Kay, I'm good. Applebee's, here we come." He turns the key in the ignition, setting you on your journey to the restaurant. 

Once you arrive, you recognize at least half the cars parked outside, looks like you two are the last to show up. You take off your cap and gown before stepping out of the car, the fabric gets rather warm after a while. Eddie takes your hand as you walk inside, meeting the hostess and letting her know you're with the large Munson/Henderson party. She leads you towards the back half of the restaurant that you'd reserved in advance, walking into raucous cheers from your enormous group. Multiple tables have been pushed together to form a large square in the middle of the room, leaving two spots at the top center for you and Eddie, right next to your mother and Wayne.

"The lovebirds have finally arrived!" Steve comments loudly. "You two get caught up celebrating, or something?" He teases, drawing 'ooh's from the others around the table.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" Eddie bites back, rolling his eyes. His less than stellar attitude earns him a light jab in the ribs from your elbow. 

"Be nice, Eds. And if you must know, I went to see my dad." You explain yourself, feeling a bit bad for holding everyone up. The room falls silent, every single one of your guests realizing what you mean. 

"Sorry, Y/N. I didn't know." Steve apologizes, picking up her beer to take a large, embarrassed gulp.

"It's fine. I wasn't planning on telling anyone. It's just something I had to do." You reply sadly, feeling even worse for ruining the mood.

"How'd it go?" Mom asks, coming to the conclusion that you only went because she kept bringing up her ex-husband like it was a damn compulsion. 

"It went fine. I talked to him. Well, actually, I yelled, cried, and told him how much he's missing out on." You answer with a shrug, shrinking under the thirty-seven pairs of sympathetic eyes around the table. 

"Did he say anything back?" Polly pipes up from her high chair. You look over at her, noticing Angie about to scold her for asking such a thing. But she's just a kid, she doesn't know any better. Not to mention, George was her dad, too. You just smile, and shake your head.

"No, Polly. But I'm sure he would've if he was able to." You speak kindly to her, though you doubt she really understands. She just gives a little nod, accepting your answer. 

"I'm sorry, sugarpuff. I shouldn't have brought him up so much." Mom says apologetically.

"Mom, it's okay. I got it out of my system. It's not weighing me down anymore." You reassure her, picking up your menu to change the subject. The silence in the room is far too deafening for your liking. "Now, are we gonna order, or what? Last I checked, we have a lot to celebrate!" You say cheerfully, lightening everyone's mood.

"I'll drink to that!" Hopper cheers heartily, lifting his glass. The others follow his lead, raising their drinks in the air. Even Jake and Polly lift their kids cups with their little hands. "To Y/N and Eddie, for embarking on this wonderful journey together!" He calls, taking a large drink afterwards.

"To Y/N and Eddie!" Everyone else says together, and you and Eddie take a sip from one of the beers that were ordered on your behalf. A moment later, a couple of waitresses come by to take everybody's order, frantically writing meals and specifications on their little notepads, They leave to put the orders in with the kitchen, allowing you to engage in numerous loud, joyous conversations. It's mainly just catch-up among friends since most of you are pretty close with one another, but there's many curious inquiries made between the less-than-familiar groups. Angie gets to talking with Mr. Biggs about his business, Milo seems to have a lot in common with Gareth, and Dotty and Chrissy are nearly attached at the hip. It warms your heart to see everyone getting along so well, despite the varying paths in life they've all taken. 

One by one, the meals are brought out on overflowing trays and distributed amongst your group. The youngsters have kids portions of mac 'n cheese, and the adults are pretty evenly split between burgers, steaks, and salads. You yourself have opted for a grilled sandwich filled with all your favorite fixings, while Eddie's picked spaghetti and meatballs. When everybody digs in, the talking dies down significantly, replaced with the sounds of chewing and silverware scraping against ceramic plates. You munch away on your sandwich, and Eddie slurps up his pasta while holding his free hand on your thigh. He strokes you softly, in a perfectly innocent gesture. He's long since learned his lesson about putting his fingers in certain places underneath tables when you aren't alone. You swallow the bite you've been chewing, wiping your mouth before leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"What's that for, sweetheart?" Eddie asks quietly, keeping the words between you.

"Do I need a reason to kiss your handsome face?" You tease, laying another one on him.

"'Course not." Eddie chuckles, giving your thigh a loving squeeze. 

"So, Y/N, when do you get to take over for Mrs. O'Donnell's science classes?" Jamie asks, as it's been something you've discussed recently. You haven't gotten around to telling everyone yet, considering you weren't completely sure it's what you'd wanted to do until you'd heard about the elderly teacher's retirement coming in two years. 

"It'll be a couple of years yet, I have to get my teaching certification, working under her in her classroom. But, I'm looking forward to it." You reply happily. As it's been said, you've been a bit aimless about your choice of career for a majority of your adulthood. You've juggled numerous dreams of marine biology and forensic research, even behavioral psychology at one point. The result of these long-abandoned aspirations is that you've earned just about every science-related credit in whatever classifies as a 'long list' at a community college. So, when it came time to hurry up and pick a career field already, it finally clicked. You've spent four years absorbing nearly all the scientific knowledge at your disposal, why not make a career out of imparting said knowledge to the developing youth of America? 

"Really? I never took you as someone who'd want to work with kids, Y/N. Not to mention shithead teens like we all used to be." Steve comments. This is certainly news to him, and well, everyone besides Jamie, Eddie, and your mother.

"Believe me, I didn't either. But when I thought it over, I came around to it like this. Have you ever had a teacher that made you excited to learn? One that made you look forward to going to school every day, because they made learning fun?" You ask.

"No." Both Steve and Eddie reply, earning a light laugh from the room.

"Alright, maybe I shouldn't be asking Party Boy and Three-Time Senior." You bite back, rolling your eyes. Another collective chuckle, though you quiet them down a moment later. "Anyway, most people have at least one of those teachers, I had a few myself. And I'd like to be that for someone else. Because, despite what my fiancé might think..." You give the man in question a playful nudge in the ribs. "...school is important. But that doesn't mean it has to be boring." You end on a light note, prompting murmurs of approval.

"I may despise the American education system, sweetheart. But if anyone can make it better, I know it's gonna be you." Eddie says sweetly, leaning over to kiss your lips. 'Aw's and obnoxious noises break out in the room this time. 

It's a really odd feeling, having all eyes on you these last few days. It's like the two of you are starring in some fresh new sitcom, and everyone else is the studio audience reacting to everything you do. Of course, this audience consists of people you love and care for, and thankfully, they talk back. They're all here to support and celebrate your love, and you're so very grateful for that. That being said, you're really looking forward to when the next two days come to pass, and you finally get a chance to breathe. As lovely and exhilarating as this all has been, there's been a lot of little choices to make, to a point where it's felt never-ending. Cake tasting, invitations, floral arrangements, dress shopping, party favors, bridal shower activities, and the list goes on for miles. The weeklong honeymoon you'll share at home after this whole circus concludes is most definitely your coveted light at the end of the tunnel. 

Despite all of the stress that comes with planning and hosting a wedding, you're completely overjoyed to be doing all of it. You can't wait to get married to Eddie, to be his wife. It won't necessarily change much about your dynamic, per se, but it’s all so wonderfully grown up. Everything about it feels natural and right, for once in your life. There's no doubt in this decision. There's no fear gnawing away inside your head. No anxiety whispering in your ear about how everything will surely be a disaster. There's nothing but love, confidence, and self-assurance coursing through your entire being. You're ready to marry Eddie, and you couldn't be happier.

To be continued...

[rorywritesjunk]

(Day 14. Baker. This was the fic I meant to post on Buggy's birthday as a gift for @hey-august . Happy very late birthday! 🧡 There was a reason I asked you so much about your cake preferences)

The captain had been avoiding you since you first greeted him with "good morning". He locked himself in the kitchen with a sign that said "keep out!!!" with little skulls around it. Fine, okay, you could kind of deal with that. He had a crew and ship to worry about so it was acceptable for him to ignore you, even if it was your birthday.

The crew wished you happy birthday, even Richie yowled and gave you a lick on the cheek as what you assumed was his way of joining the crew in their well wishes. You appreciated it, thanking them and giving Richie ear scritches.

The day was fine. You kept busy doing your chores, though every time you passed the kitchen you paused in front of it to put your ear to the door, wondering if you'd be able to hear what was happening on the other side. All you were able to hear each time was Buggy talking to himself and swearing. What was he even doing in there?

Evening rolled around and Buggy made a brief appearance. You tried to make your way to him just to say hello but the second he saw you he disappeared back into the kitchen and slammed the door. That... Was odd. You started to wonder if you did something to upset him.

Another hour past. The crew had decided to throw you a party to celebrate your birthday. You helped yourself to a few drinks, enjoying the atmosphere and energy that came from the crew. They sang songs for you and for their own enjoyment, drinks sloshing around as food fell to the floor. Richie was amidst the chaos, helping himself to whatever he could swipe off the tables and into his mouth.

The only thing... The captain was nowhere to be found.

You decided to check the kitchen since he seemed to be hiding in there. It was odd for him to lock himself away like this when there was a party going on. Was he okay? It wasn't like him to not be in the middle of the party, shoulder to shoulder with his crew as he laughed and drank and sang along with their bawdy sailing songs.

You didn't dwell too long on his absence because as you approached the kitchen door it suddenly burst open, Buggy's leg detached from his body as his hands held a platter with... A lopsided and melty looking cake sitting upon it. He froze when saw you, clearly not expecting to see you, but once his leg snapped back to his body and he straightened up, he tried to play off the surprise.

"Why aren't you at the party?" He demanded as he tried to move the cake from view, going so far as letting his arms lift it above your head. "Shouldn't you be drunk right now?"

"I came to check on you, Captain." You said, eyeing the platter as it moved upwards. "What is that?"

"Nothing." Buggy said. "Turn around and go back to the party!"

"Did you bake a cake?"

He stared at you before letting out a snort, bringing the tray back down so you could get a better look at it. It... Was a mess. No crumb coat, the frosting had been applied when the cake was still too warm, causing it to slowly melt away. A strong smell of peanuts and chocolate came from the cake and the more you studied it, seeing the texture of the frosting, you saw chunks.

"What kind of cake is this?" You asked, eyeing him as your finger took a swipe of frosting to taste. It....was a taste. The chunks were chopped up peanuts and you could taste the butter and sugar. "It's... Good."

"Well of course it's good! I made it all by scratch!" He said proudly as his hand nudged the cake to steady it. It looked as though it was a layered cake with one layer slipping off. "Homemade peanut butter frosting, just for you! And the chocolate cake is my famous recipe!"

You wondered what he meant by "famous".

"Here, let's go ahead and cut you a piece." He said as he turned back to the kitchen. "It's for your birthday anyway."

Well that was just as sweet as the frosting he made for you. You followed after him as he set the cake down to find a knife and plate. You took a seat and watched him move about the kitchen, trying not to notice the mess he made. Why did this take him all day?

"I didn't have actual peanut butter, so I made it from scratch." He told you as he brought a plate over. "Peanuts, butter, and sugar. Tastes like the crap we can get at the shops."

"Thank you, Captain." You said, smiling at him as he cut the cake in half. He looked as if he was about to put one half of it on the plate for you. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

He paused and looked at you. "Well, maybe I wanted to! Ever think of that? Maybe I wanted to bake a cake for you!"

His tone was a little defensive and you felt bad saying that, so before he had any regrets over his kindness you took the plate from him, ignoring the weight of it with half a cake on it, and held your hand out for a fork. He huffed softly and grabbed one for you.

"I appreciate it, really." You said, taking the fork and taking off a piece of the cake, making sure to get some frosting on the bites. You looked at him as you stuck the fork in your mouth, trying to ignore the creamy yet chunky frosting, but... The actual chocolate cake was good. The crumb texture was perfect, it was moist, and instead of complimenting Buggy you finished what was in your mouth before helping yourself to another bite.

"Well?"

"I's goo', Cap'n." You managed to say through the third mouthful. You didn't hesitate in sharing a forkful with him, holding it out for him to take. He could just get his own piece, but if you were willing to share yours...

He took it, wiping his mouth with the bake of his hand to get rid of any frosting to crumbs. It was good. He made it afterall, following the recipe from the box precisely.

"Thank you for the cake, Captain Buggy." You said with a smile. "It's delicious."

Buggy cleared his throat and took another bite of the cake, trying to ignore his cheeks turning pink. "Yea, well, happy birthday! Don't get too drunk, tomorrow you got work to do and everything! Got it?"

You nodded, still.smiling at him as you held another forkful out for him. You decided to share the half with him, alternating bites of it with him, glad you were able to finish up your birthday with him.

[sunflowerandstrawberryspice]

Cole my favorite human ninja! Finally after fiddling around I decided on my design for Cole, and idk if it's just me but I loved his longer hair style so I'm keeping it! Also I think it'd be interesting if Cole straightened his hair when he was younger. I know someone with textured hair who did ballet/dance for a while and he was either told to keep his hair super short or straighten it and gel it down so I thought it'd be an interesting thing to throw in for younger Cole's design since he was a dancer for a while.

So I will never get over how I wish they explored his backstory more in the show honestly I wish they explored most of the ninjas back stories more cause them kids had some pretty fucked up childhoods even before they became ninja (except for Jay he seemed like he was doing okay (?) he didn't know he was adopted yet and Ed and Edna have only ever been shown as really sweet so). Like Nya and Kai grew up with no parental figures, Lloyd went to Darkly's and then wound up on the streets for a while, Zane watched his father die and then got memory wiped, and Cole's a whole other mess.

Like His mother died when he was what like 5/6 years old (the Ninjago timeline is nonexistent) his father neglected him after her death leaving him to take on all chores and tasks in the house and the only way his father would only pay attention was if he was doing dance. Then he failed a extremely complex dance move as a child and in the episode The Royal Blacksmiths it seems as if his father liked to remind him of this, in that episode Cole also says that he's not a good dancer but we know that he got into the Marty Oppenheimer School for Performing Arts.

Now being a performing arts school that we can assume is a boarding school since Cole's father seems unfazed that he's not coming home, it's probably a pretty nice school. Not to mention boarding schools are private, hard to get into and sometimes even by invite only, this means Cole likely had to at least be talented enough to get INTO the school. Judging from how Cole's father talks to him (and the other ninja during practice) in the episode Royal Blacksmiths it wouldn't be to surprising if Cole only THOUGHT he was bad, I mean he successfully does the triple tiger sashay by the end of the episode after seemingly being out of practice for years, so I don't think it would be to far fetched to say that he was actually pretty good at dance.

As another fun fact apparently Cole may have taught Lloyd a bit of dance for agility/flexibility training which I think is really fun (it's mentioned in a book idk if it's cannon but it's fun to imagine it is!). Also I love the Royal Blacksmiths episode as a queer person cause it's literally a stereotypical coming out episode but like as a ninja and it never fails to make me laugh.

I think Cole's relationship with his father is really interesting because we see him I'd say the least out of all the Ninjago parents, like seriously I'm pretty sure we see more of Maya who was assumed dead for 6 1/2 seasons (that's probably 17-18 years in cannon) than we see of Lou. Now I'm pretty sure a good chunk of people I've seen talk about him are pretty split on whether or not he's a good or bad parent/if him and Cole are on good terms, in my opinion I don't really think he's a very good parent, we know for a fact he was neglectful while also putting a lot of pressure on Cole when he did dance, as for anything else we're really only able to infer and idk I just feel like he's not that great of a parent.

Now this is more my opinion just based off what we see of him, I don't think Cole and his father are all that close since unlike other parents such as Ray, Maya, Ed, Enda and even Misako we rarely if ever see him in the background congratulating the Ninja after a battle or helping them after a loss, in fact he actually just straight up doesn't go to Nya’s eulogy (which is in line with his character since it's been said he's not good with dealing with grief but it's still pretty shitty to do) I don't think Cole hates him or anything but I don't think that they're close or talk all to much even without the whole merge situation. 

Anyways I've spent way to long rambling about this but yeah, again this is just my opinion! I love love love this Lego show and Cole is one of my favorite characters and I'm glad in DR he's getting more attention, in fact a lot of the ninja are (minus Jay) while also allowing the new elemental masters develop which is just so fun to watch!

Hope y'all have a great day/night PEACE OUT!

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 21 | Chapter 23

TW: idiot fluff, I'm DRAAAAGGGGIIINNNGGGG this slowburn out til it kills us all, some heavy topics of abusers, past violence and assault, feelings of general anxiousness, as always language, mentions of drugs and drinking, a bit of Olive drama, teasing, conversations of past murder, Mav is just a whole TW in and of itself sometimes (but I love her), heavy topics, a fluffy kissing session or two, general fluff, having to work on Thanksgiving, Jennifer drama, some good ol found family content and a totally not foreboding end 🤭 Happy (late) Thanksgiving everyone! I hope y'all had an amazing day and some good food! Love y'all!

Chapter 22: Lemon Meringue

"Come out and face me, coward."

The words echoed in Anthony's mind like a discordant symphony. Howard had given the message to him all while whining and babbling like a child about the violence he'd endured. At first, Anthony had laughed. Leave it to the old drug dealer to rely on some spineless, worthless little puppet to deliver a threat. But, the longer he sat with it the more annoyed he got.

Coward. That word in particular left a foul taste in his mouth. Anthony Grosvenor was many things, but a coward? No. Absolutely not. 

He'd destroyed the crystal glassware on his table, leaving glittering chunks of it scattered along his floor. With a frustrated curse in French, he slicked his hair back and straightened his tie. Stepping over the mess Tony snapped his fingers and Jules followed. "Tell the maids to clean well today. I don't want a shard left on this floor."

"Of course, Sir."

"Now, remind me of our schedule." The two moved to the kitchen, where he gathered a new glass and bottle. "Nothing for this month, Sir. But, next, we have the party and-"

He waved his hand and poured himself a glass of the fine red. "Call Howard. Tell him to hang the thing in that horrid restaurant. And cancel the party."

Jules gave him a confused look. "Are you sure? You were very clear that you-"

"I know what I wanted, but that was then. And after this… poor attempt at a threat, it's obvious we'll need to be rid of that mutt before I can do what's necessary."

"Of course, Sir. We'll do whatever you require of us."

"Good," Tony sneered, examining the wine in his glass. Jules turned to carry out his orders no doubt. "And Jules," Tony added, causing the large man to turn, revealing his scarred, half-missing ear. "I want the dog gone. For good this time."

Jules smiled, "Understood, Sir."

Tony watched the red liquid swirl in his glass, reminiscent of the coming holiday. A holiday that should have been spent with Lena at his side behaving like he'd taught her to. Instead, she'd be at that diner with those people, her so-called family. 

He knew the truth of it though. He was her family. He was her everything. Lena could run and fight him for as long as she wanted, but that simple fact would never change. Anthony owned her, mind, body, and soul. She was branded by him, his adoration as well as his cruelty, and he was the only one who knew her for the monster she was. After all, he'd made her that way.

Lena would come home. Whether she came of her own volition or came dragged back by the hair she'd be at his side again. One way or another she always came back to him.

*

There was something so simple about moments of peaceful bliss. A simplicity that I knew was ever fleeting. It was a thing to be cherished, felt fully without reservation. So as the Irish folk music blared through the walls of my family's apartment I just smiled and buried my head in the crook of Jake's neck.

It had been a while since I'd woken up beside someone - or rather, a while since I'd gotten used to waking up with a particular someone. Waking up with Jake's arms around me was one of those precious moments I felt at peace. I clung to his warmth, content to lay there for the rest of the day, a feeling he seemed to share as he sleepily mumbled and pulled me closer into him.

My fingers idly traced the mermaid tail on his arm, drifting upwards to give the same attention to the words over his ribs. I smiled at the feeling of his breath shuddering beneath me, pursuing my lips to kiss the underside of his jaw. Outside my bedroom, my brothers clamored around, but I didn't mind their noise this morning, not when Jake was here.

He lifted a hand, catching the one that traced his tattoos and lacing our fingers together. "You're tickling me."

Humming softly I brushed my nose against his ear before tugging on it with my teeth. "Good morning."

"Mmmm," he groaned, turning and trapping me beneath him. Jake's lips sloppily pressed to my head, my cheeks, and my jaw before he finally cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine. The soft tired kiss left me feeling breathless as he lifted his head and smiled down at me. "Morning."

There was an odd and overwhelming feeling of intimacy and vulnerability that filled my chest with the burning longing to stay in this bed with Jake forever. Safe, tucked away in a tiny corner of the world where I knew nothing could hurt me. While I'd come to accept my deep feelings for the bartender, the thought of having to voice such things made my tongue feel like iron in my mouth. It should be easy, I told myself as I looked up into Jake's pretty eyes. Should be… But wasn't.

A pang of guilt and shame and white-hot anger made my lungs burn as I reminded myself why it wasn't easy. Why I was so afraid to just admit to the man sharing my bed that I liked him - adored him - and wanted to at least try to be something more? Tony had ruined such simplicity for me. He'd all but destroyed the very possibility of me having the courage to tell anyone in my life that I loved them, especially in a romantic sense. It'd fucked up a lot of things early on and had been a large factor as to why I only had casual flings and not full-fledged relationships. Sam was the first one who had gotten close to anything real. 

"Why can't you just love me back?"

"It's not that simple, Sammy."

"Yes, it is. You either love me or you don't, Lena."

"Then I guess I don't."

My jaw clenched as I shoved it all back inside the overflowing box inside. I smiled at Jake, caressed his face, and breathed in his smell. I'm here. I'm safe. "So," I started with an awkward laugh. "Seems like we've got a lot to talk about."

He flopped onto his side with a smile. "Yeah, the rainchecks are starting to build up."

"They are," I agreed softly.

Jake looked at me for a minute, those eyes taking in my face with a tired sparkle of wonder and something more. He smiled, moving to sit up and stretch. "Come on, I owe you some shitty eggs."

I followed his lead, quietly tossing his pants to him, happy that he didn't seem interested in pushing what was left unsaid between us until we both popped. In the living room, my brothers tied their shoes and quietly talked amongst themselves before they smirked up at us. "Mornin."

"Hey," I greeted, rubbing the rest of the sleep from my eyes. "We were just about to make breakfast."

Patrick kissed my head as Peter finished tying his shoes. "No breakfast today."

"What?"

"We're taking the boy on a jog," he replied, slapping Jake on the shoulder.

The still-tired bartender made a face. "The fuck did I do to deserve that?"

My brothers howled with laughter. Peter stood up and kissed my cheek. "You stuck around, of course!"

Patrick ruffled Jake's messy hair. "Hurry downstairs and get changed, little brother. We're taking the scenic route today!"

Biting back a laugh I smugly grinned at him. "That means they're taking you the long way."

"Shut up," he huffed. "Horrible. All of you."

"Have fun!" I yelled after them, earning a middle finger from them all as they closed the door behind them.

Isaac emerged from Peter's room with a shy smile. He gestured toward the door. “Quinn and I are getting breakfast. You wanna come?”

"Sure curly," I replied, ruffling his hair.

I dressed in warm, casual clothes and linked arms with my brother's boyfriend as we walked along the busy sidewalk towards the only other diner in town Quinn would eat at. Isaac was thankfully back to his bright, cheery self. I'd missed his laughter and his exaggerated stories. Though his face still held the faint marks his monster left his heart hadn't been marred. Isaac remained the man he always was, kind and thoughtful and funny and I was grateful for it.

Lifting a finger to his cheek I prodded one of the faint marks. “Your face looks better than it did a few weeks ago.”

He sweetly smiled, scratched his head, and shrugged. “Guess I get to keep my status as prettiest cook at 22West.”

“Guess so,” I laughed. “Careful though, Santos is awfully pretty. I'd hate for you to lose your title.”

The two of us continued to tease each other as we sat down in the old booth and looked at the menus. Isaac looked around with furrowed brows. “Quinn must be running late.”

I hummed, following his lead and looking around the diner. “Maybe she overslept.”

Isaac nodded, but a look of uncertainty remained in his eyes. “Maybe.”

“Hey, she’s alright.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring down at the table.

“How are you doing?” I asked, reaching over to take hold of his hand. “It’s been a minute since I asked.”

With that blinding smile of his, Isaac replied, “I’m doing good. Better than I have been in a while, but there’s still those days ya know?”

“I know.”

Squeezing my hand he drew in a deep breath. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me, Lena.”

“That’s what friends are for.” I smiled. “Besides, what kind of sister would I be if I let my brother's boyfriend suffer?”

The diner bell chimed as Quinn hurried through and wordlessly found our table. As she sat down, shedding her jacket and throwing it into the booth beside me I could see the tenseness in her shoulders and the set look on her face that she always got when some shit went down. “Sorry, I’m late.”

Isaac waved her off. “No worries. We ordered your usual for you.”

“Thanks.”

Conversation flowed as usual between Isaac and me, but Quinn seemed far away only joining us in speaking when we addressed her. When the curly-haired man excused himself to the bathroom I nudged her shoulder. “You okay?”

She blinked a few times, clearly being pulled from whatever thoughts were on her mind. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Quinn.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s just… been a long morning.”

“Did something happen with you and Ari?”

Shaking her head she scoffed. “Course not. We’re solid.”

I tilted my head and forced her to hold my eyes. “Spill it, Q.”

“Lee, it’s seriously nothing.” She took a drink. “I’m a big girl, I’ve got it under control.”

“Fine,” I relented as the server came with our food. “Just remember if you need anything we’re here for you.”

“I know.”

*

Exercise wasn't anything new to Jake, especially not after the months of training with Patrick, but this was just torture. They jogged through the city streets for what felt like hours. Block after block the Harrow brothers just kept jogging. They made small talk here and there, but mostly just laughed at his struggle to keep the pace they'd set. So, when Nana's diner came into view Jake almost cried.

The three of them hurried through the door. Patrick patted Jake's back as he bent over gasping for air. "Don't pass out on us now, little brother."

"You two are sadists," he heaved in reply.

Peter waved down Nana as she emerged from behind the counter. "Can we get some water, Nana?"

She laughed and hurried off to get it for them as they moved through the diner toward the back booth. Jake's fatigue and slightly poor attitude faded at the sight of Dom already waiting. Seemed like the conversation that was promised wasn't gonna wait.

They sat in silence, everything fading until all that remained was the topic none of them wanted to bring up. Dom spoke first, "How is she this morning?"

"She seems alright," Peter answered. 

"So, you decided not to tell her?" Dom continued.

Jake swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. "I don't want to lie to her but this… She should be the one to choose when she wants to talk about it."

The drug dealer nodded in approval. "Smart boy." He set his hands on the table with a sigh. "You have questions though."

"Don't we all?" Patrick sneered.

Peter jabbed him. "Don't start this again Pat."

"I just don't see why Dom's so keen on keeping us in the dark."

Jake turned to look at them, confused as to what they meant. "I made her a promise. One I ain't gonna break just cause you want me to."

Patrick sat back, the four of them going quiet as Nana approached. "Oh, my strong boys!" She pinched his cheek and smiled at everyone. "It is early today, I hope you're here because you are hungry."

"We're starving," Peter assured her.

"Good!" She clapped. "I make all your favorites!"

They watched her leave and when she disappeared Dom settled back and gestured to Jake. "Alright, tough guy, ask me."

Ask me. It sounded so simple, but this… It wasn't simple. Every question he had hung on the tip of his tongue. Who is he? How long did she have to go through that? How old was she? So many questions… But the one that came out first was this: "Why didn't you help her?"

Dom's jaw clenched and for a minute Jake thought he'd just fucked everything up. He expected Dom to hit him, to reach out and grab him, but he didn't. Dom just held his gaze and answered, "I didn't know how bad it was. Not til she told me. I…" He sighed, turning to look out the window for a moment. "I should have known. I should have done something sooner and that's something I'll have to live with."

Patrick bumped his shoulder as if to shake him from the startled punch-ready state. "Relax, little brother. We all asked that question first."

"Dom's heard it a lot by now," Peter added.

"Who knows?"

That seemed to make Patrick a bit angry. "You'll have to be more specific." His eyes drifted to Dom. "The question you ought to ask is who knows what?"

"Isaac and Prue know the least." Dom held Pat's glare. "They know the name and a very very vague summary of what went down. Peter, Patrick, and Oz know a bit more than that. Names, locations, durations, and a few other things she chose to share. Nana and Quinn know just a bit more than them, not a lot but enough."

Jake somehow felt more confused. How could they all know such varying degrees of the same information? "And you?"

Patrick scoffed. "Dom knows all of it. Every name, location, duration, and god damn detail."

Dom's eyes filled with guilt for a moment, but it faded quickly. "I know what she told me."

"And she just happened to tell you all of it."

"Patrick," Peter warned. "We're all on the same side here."

"Same side my ass." He shook his head. "I deserve to know what that motherfucker did to my sister so I can pay it forward whenever he slinks back to town."

Peter just sighed, looking tired. "Not even Dad knew all of it, Pat. She obviously doesn't want us to know."

Jake stared at his now half-empty glass of water, only half listening to the others as they quietly argued for a moment. He wanted to know everything and at the same time, he wanted to know nothing at all. "What's his name?"

Dom's head tilted slightly, a look of pride… Respect calming his features. "Anthony. But the fucker likes to be called Tony."

Anthony. He repeated the name about fifty times before his mouth opened again. "How long?"

"Three years."

Three years. In any other circumstance, he'd consider it a short amount of time. Three years of torture though… That was different, longer. "And were those three years filled with… That?"

Dom looked down. "That and worse."

Worse? Jake almost scoffed. What could possibly be worse than that? He would have asked, but the look in the eyes of Lena's brothers and Dom told him he probably didn't want to know… And that they likely wouldn't have told him even if he did. Anger replaced his curiosity. "Where is he now?"

"Around."

Patrick slammed his hand onto the table. "Dom I swear to god–"

"I'm taking care of it."

"That's what you always say," he argued. "And yet every time he comes back. So, enlighten us, how the fuck are you handling this?"

Peter, the logical and cool-headed older brother, seemed just as angry now. "I don't want a repeat of what happened after Dad died, Dom."

The drug dealer nodded, guilt once again making his lips cast downward. "It won't come to that."

"How do you know?" Peter wasn't giving up.

"That was different. He had leverage-"

"He always has leverage," Peter argued.

Patrick shook his head. "What I'm hearing is you don't have a goddamn clue what you're doing."

Dom's glare was deadly as he pointed to Patrick. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Jake decided to speak up and hopefully avoid a fight breaking out between the two. "Does he pop up often?"

"No," Peter answered while the other two continued their stare-down. "He left her alone for a few years after she got out for good. But, once our dad died he started showing up, causing trouble, and trying to get her to go back with him."

"That's underselling it a bit," Patrick scoffed. "Son of a bitch tries kidnapping her, threatening everyone she cares about, making her relapse. Fucker shot me the last time he came round."

Jake raised his brows in disbelief, staring at the redhead as he touched his arm. Peter rolled his eyes. "The bullet barely touched you."

"Still fuckin' stung."

Dom shook his head and continued. "I'm handling it. You morons just need to keep her out of it. Keep her happy."

Peter chuckled a bit. "Pretty tall order."

Patrick joined in. "She's a tough one to keep happy."

"Seems pretty easy to me," Jake said with a smug grin.

"Disgusting!" Peter hollered, glancing his way with a pointed look. "That's my sister."

Nana set the plates down in front of them with a smile. "It is so good to see my boys laughing together!" She stroked his hair lovingly and did the same to Dom's shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything else."

As Jake sat with the Harrow boys and the drug dealer inhaling their food, he felt a weight lift off his chest. Whatever guilt he felt slowly eased with the knowledge that he wasn't alone in this messy situation. He had the others to help keep him on the right track with Lena.

Maybe, just maybe he had a chance at doing whatever this was right. Maybe this time he wouldn't fuck it up.

*

Simone walked with her head high, taking in the lovely color of the leaves and enjoying the chilled breeze as she moved through the crowds of people. She wasn't a fan of the cold, but some days it had a usefulness in distracting her. No amount of cold, however, could distract her from the fast-approaching holiday.

Thanksgiving, a time of family and joy and food and laughter. A time to keep up appearances and keep people in line so as not to overstep or overreach. Simone hated Thanksgiving, as she did most holidays because it forced her to sit at a table with her parents and pretend there wasn't unspoken animosity between them. 

Her father was a drunk, not a violent one, but an absent one. He used holidays to fuel his addiction and spout off whatever nonsense his mind was filled with that particular holiday. It ruined the mood for everyone quickly. Her mother was timid and unimaginative. She married the first man that offered her the security she sought. She took no risks, had no adventures, and was - at least in Simone's mind - useless outside the role of wife. Her mother had settled and in turn, she'd inadvertently ruined Simone's one chance at happiness with Etienne.

In just a few days she'd pack a bag and drive to Cape Cod to endure the family dinner. It wouldn't be too bad, she reminded herself. Jake will certainly take some of the edge off. He was always in such a sour mood about going back home. Childishly he'd whine about not wanting to go - a few times he'd even tell her he wasn't going - but he'd always be there in the morning with his bags.

It was annoying in the way most repetitive things were, but if Simone was truly honest she enjoyed the back and forth. She enjoyed watching Jake fight and struggle against it only to give in to her. The sex was another plus. She'd sneak into his room once her parents had gone to bed and they'd share in a night of passion where his loyalty and love were confirmed as hers and hers alone. It reminded her of when they were younger, of the first times she'd gone to his room.

As she neared Jake's apartment she was bitterly reminded of their last trip to the Cape and how unfulfilled she was left. It still filled her with rage when she remembered the sight of that red-haired felon sitting across from Jake in that diner or when she'd had the nerve to share a cigarette with him and give her that look through the window. Hopefully, she didn't have to worry about that this time.

It wasn't hard to rattle the girl given her obvious insecurities where intimate relationships were involved. Implying her little get-together with Jake was more than just a simple meeting between friends had sent her into an obvious spiral of anxiety. She smiled to herself at the memory of her pretty little face losing its smile and adopting a wide-eyed look of terror. Simone had just been lucky enough to hear about their plans through a well-timed trip to the locker room. Ari's new fling was too loud for her own good when she'd called to spread the gossip of Jake and Lena's plans to her lover.

Simone opened Jake's apartment door without knocking, not caring if she caught him in the throws of passion with some girl or not. She didn't expect to find his apartment empty. Jake was a boy of habit. He slept in till noon and left his apartment a mess, yet his bed was neatly made and his place was tidy. She hummed curiously as she leafed through his mail and moved through his space in search of anything out of place.

A hiss drew her eyes to the floor where a hideous cat peeked out from behind his counter. "Why hello there," she cooed to the cat. "What are you doing here?"

The black, hairless thing lifted its body and hissed. Simone chuckled, Seems he finally found something as grumpy as him. She bent down and reached out toward it, earning a quick scratch to the back of her hand and another louder hiss before the creature scurried beneath Jake's bed. Its eyes glowed in the darkness as it watched her with discontent.

She examined the small cut with a scoff. "Unruly thing."

Simone picked Jake's discarded clothes up off the floor, taking them into the bathroom to place them in his hamper. A shirt sat on his counter, neatly folded beside a shopping bag. The lingerie inside made her frown with disappointment. Of course, he's wasting his money on little gifts for her. She huffed, looking at his shelves and tapping her fingers on his camera as she held it in her hands and turned it on to leaf through whatever little sights Jake had deemed important enough to dust off his useless little camera.

Her frown grew, and the sliver of assured importance in the bartender's life turned to a fire of bitter anger. Simone swallowed it, grabbed the shirt, and left the apartment, storing that anger hoping it'd prove useful to her - more useful than it had the last time.

*

Jake moved, weaving and dodging, stepping and striking like all of it was second nature - something he'd been doing his whole life. As I watched from the front counter I couldn't help but admire the beauty of him. His toned muscles glistened with sweat, flexing and relaxing in intervals. His messy hair was haphazardly slicked back but those stubborn strands still fell beautifully out of place around his face. The focus in his eyes, the pure confidence and determination they held… It was mesmerizing.

It felt like he'd been dancing in the ring with Zeke for hours, but realistically it'd only taken him four hits to win the practice match. Once Patrick declared the win Jake's demeanor relaxed and he quickly checked up on Zeke, who complimented his powerful strikes. Patrick stood next to him, giving him praise and pointers, but Jake's eyes drifted to me. That smirk and a wink was all it took to turn me into a blushing mess, one Peter saw.

My brother wiggled his eyebrows. "Not a word or I'll start talking about you and your boyfriend."

He held his hands up. "I was just gonna say you look good today."

"Sure you were." Glancing at the clock I turned toward the ring. "Hey, Tough Guy! Hit the showers or we're gonna be late!"

Rolling his eyes he caught the water bottle Pat tossed him and headed towards the locker room. Patrick hopped down and stood on the opposite side of the front counter, sipping his own water. He and Peter shared a look. "So…"

Pat swallowed. "You and the boy… What's going on there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you two official yet?" Peter clarified.

The nervous tension swelled in my gut again as I shrugged them off and moved to head up the stairs and get ready myself. "Gonna just ignore us?"

"Yep!" I answered.

In the quiet safety of my bedroom, I didn't let myself sit with the question. Nor did I let the answer sink in. Jake was Jake. I was me. That was it, that was all. Unpacking how badly I wanted it to be me and Jake or Jake and I… Well, that would just ruin it. I didn't want to lose what we'd spent all this time building. I didn't want to fuck it up.

Downstairs Jake was waiting for me by the door, dressed in his casual clothes and ready for the walk to work. We both ignored my brothers as they gushed over us and we walked together as if nothing had changed. But, we both felt it. We both knew the truth.

Everything had changed.

*

The second Jake walked through the kitchen door he was met with pure chaos. The kitchen was in disorderly work while the servers were sprinting around. Beside him, Lena whistled. "What the fuck?"

Scott's head shot up. "Finally! Get changed, we need all hands on deck, Red!"

"What's going on?"

"Howard's gone," Scott replied. "Just texted Will and I that he's taking some time off."

Jake hid his smirk, trying to picture just how fucked Howard's face looked after the beating he took. Serves him right. Lena sighed and scratched her head. "Fuck. Okay. I'll be right down."

“Sounds like tonight's gonna be great,” he said with a grin. Lena shot him a glance, a small smirk on her lips. “No Howard up everyone's ass.”

“And a dining room full of whiny guests and no manager. What could possibly go wrong?”

He shrugged off his jacket as they neared the top of the steps. “I thought you'd have more faith in Will's managerial skills.”

As if on cue the suited man bolted from the locker room, face tight with anxiety as he practically threw himself down the steps with a rushed, “Excuse me!”

Lena watched him go and sighed again. “Yep, we're fucked.”

Nudging her shoulder Jake kept walking. “Have some faith. He'll figure it out.”

“Never thought I'd hear you of all people chime in for Will.”

“Shut up.”

Their soft laughter died the second they walked through the locker room door. Simone stood, buttoning up her shirt and staring at them with hardened eyes and a stiff smile. Jake knew that look, that judgmental way she regarded him, and given what she'd said to Lena they were overdue for another one of those conversations he hated so much. Lena spoke first, “Good morning.”

Simone chuckled. “Good is hardly the word I'd use to describe the start of this day.”

“Howards gone,” Jake said. “I'd call that a pretty good start.”

She ignored his comment entirely and smoothed her fingers over the bandage on her hand. “I stopped by your apartment and met that unruly creature you've taken in.”

Quietly cursing himself Jake nodded, opening the locker and putting his jacket inside. “It takes him a little time to warm up to people.”

“It scratched me,” Simone said harshly. “Leave it for you to find an animal with just as sour a mood as you.” Checking her lipstick in the mirror she continued. “I won't be taking care of it when you get bored.”

“I don't expect you to take care of him,” Jake answered, rolling his eyes. “We both know you hate animals.”

Lena closed her locker door and quickly buttoned her cooking coat, clearly in a hurry to vacate the tense atmosphere that hovered around him and Simone. Turning to leave she stopped at the sound of Someone's voice, “Lena.” Simone reached into her locker and grabbed a neatly folded shirt from one of the shelves. With a step forward she smiled and held it out to her. “I believe this is yours. I took the liberty of washing it for you.”

God dammit. He resisted the urge to throw his head back into his locker as he watched Lena offer up a clearly strained smile as she took the shirt. “Thanks.” She handed it to him. “Put that in your locker for me?”

“Sure,” he answered.

“See you after service,” she said with a tiny hint of a real smile - a reassurance that Simone's overstepping gesture hadn't deterred her from whatever this was.

The quiet that settled after her steps faded from the stairwell was short-lived as Simone turned to him, smug and rageful all at once. “Well, how was she?”

Wincing he turned to her, holding up the shirt. “Why are you going through my things?”

"I was just tidying up," she replied with a soft laugh. "We both know what a slob you can be." Her eyes drifted to his locker as he placed Lena's shirt on a shelf. “The shirt was on your counter. I assumed it was hers and figured she'd want it back instead of it going to your trophy box.”

Jake had been angry with Simone many times over the years. The two of them had many ups and downs, but once the dust settled they always found a way to get through whatever it was creating a rift between them. His anger wasn't new, but the tiny sliver of restlessness was. Jake had been angry with Simone before, but never had he felt even a hint of wanting their strange dance to end. Until now.

With a sigh, Jake closed his locker and looked at her. “What did you say to Lena?”

“What-”

“You know what I'm talking about,” he cut off with a firm voice.

Simones's lips pursed, displeased at his tone. “I was just making small talk, Jake. Trying to get along like you wanted.”

“You insinuated our plans were a date to try and freak her out.” Shaking his head he let his anger simmer. “Look, I know it's been hard for you with Lena, but that doesn't mean you can't just be civil. If that's not something you wanna do, fine, then just do what you normally do with girls I start seeing and stay out of it. It's none of your business anyway.”

Finally, the blonde woman laughed. “You are my business. Or have you forgotten all that we went through?”

Jake shook his head. “That’s not fair.”

“I expect you to be selfish and angry Jake, that's who you are. And never once have I asked you to change. Yet here you are, asking me to stop taking care of you as it’s not who I am!” She huffed out a breath and glared at him. “I have sacrificed time and time again for you. You…” Tears built in her eyes. “You're all I have.”

“Simone-”

She held up her hand and placed it on his chest. “I'm sorry if I've caused issues in your personal life, Jake. I am. But, I will never stop looking out for you.”

“I'm not asking you to, I just… Cut Lena some slack. She's not Tess.”

Reluctantly, Simone nodded. The tears in her eyes vanished as she smiled at him. “Alright. If it's that important to you, fine. But, you… You'll still tell me if anything changes between you two, right?”

Jake nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You know I will.”

“Good.” Simone turned, moving to join the chaos outside the locker room. "Oh," she suddenly said, pausing in the doorway. "I spoke to Howard about us taking Thanksgiving off to go home before this little disappearance of his."

Jake's smile fell and his jaw clenched painfully. "I don't-"

Simone sighed, biting back a bitter laugh. "You don't want to go. I know. Please, save me the speech."

“I’m not-”

"You're coming," she interrupted. As always in her mind this was not some request that he could just say no to, not some event he could skip. This was a command, the command that she always gave him and that he always followed. Her eyes softened again. "Please, no more fighting. I need you."

He turned away from her to the mirror to mess with his tie. "Fine, whatever."

"I'll text you later to remind you to pack."

*

The kitchen was a mad dash of bodies in the throws of preparation. The sounds of unsynchronised knives chopping and four conversations being loudly spoken over each other filled my ears as I tried to help in any way I could. Isaac gave me a wide-eyed look as he lifted a finger to slice across his neck in an unspoken “we're fucked” motion. I rolled my eyes at him and turned to help Scott with the sauces.

“Leave it to Howard to fuck us right before the holiday.” Angrily shaking his head and throwing his tasting spoon on the washing bin Scott wiped the sweat from his brows. “Thanks-fucking-giving of all ones.”

“We've got this, Chef,” I assured him. “Preps almost done and we're fully stocked on all the shit we need.”

Nodding his eyes drifted to Will as he slammed through the door, paced for a moment, and then returned to the lobby. “It’s not the kitchen I'm worried about, Red.”

Patting his shoulder I moved around the tables. “I'll go talk to him.”

Scott chuckled or scoffed. “Good luck!”

Will stood next to the hostess station, flipping through the guestbook and mumbling reminders to himself. Jake watched with a very noticeable grin as he prepped the bar. Though outwardly he appeared happy, there was a tenseness in his posture that made me wonder what was really on his mind. The list of possible irritants had grown large over the past few weeks. Still, I chose to lean into the more mirthful side of him. I shot him a look, leaning over to snag his rag. “Be nice!”

“I'm smiling,” he replied with an even wider grin. “That not nice enough for you?”

“You're smiling at someone else's expense.”

Pursing his lips to hide the smile Jake nodded. “No smiling. Got it.”

I tucked the rag into my pocket and rolled my eyes. “Ass.”

“Move Mr and Mrs Wilson to table ten and then move Mr. Kepner and his colleagues to table six,” Will hastily instructed the new hostess who stood beside him practically shaking as she made the notes in the guestbook.

“Will,” I called out, causing him to whip around with the gaze of a madman.

“What’s the problem?”

I set a hand on his arm and offered up a calming smile. “No problem, I just wanted to check up on you.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Sorry, I’m a mess. It’s just with Howard not here everything’s on me and I… I’m still technically in training. I’m not ready to run this place on my own!”

“Breathe,” I instructed. “You’ve got this, Will. Just treat it like any other night. Schmooze the guests, check in on everyone, and help the hostess if we get busy.”

“What if-”

“No, what if’s,” I insisted, straightening his tie. “You’ve got this.”

With a shaky breath, he nodded with me. “I’ve got this.”

I smiled, “Good. Now get to family meal and give us a good pep talk.”

“I can do that,” he whispered. “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”

The table was rowdy and filled with practically every server using the time to grill Will about the specifics of Howard’s sudden disappearance. Sasha filled his mouth with food and loudly proclaimed, “It’s probably syphilis.” 

Heather’s face scrunched up as she turned to Sasha. “Howard doesn’t have syphilis.”

“How do you know?” The Russian taunted.

Ari rolled her eyes. “He’s obviously ditching for the holiday.”

“Howard wouldn’t do that,” Heather defended again.

“He can’t hear you.”

“I know that.”

Sasha swallowed a gulp of wine and smirked. “He’s not going to fuck you either.”

Will finally cut through the noise with a loud clearing of his throat followed by a deep, commanding tone that made Sasha’s eyebrows shoot up. “It doesn’t matter why he’s gone. It changes nothing about our jobs. So, tonight goes like normal alright everyone?”

Sasha quickly saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain Will!”

“You should talk like this all the time,” Ari purred. “It makes you sound so sexy!”

It was going to be a long night.

*

Why am I still bothering with this place? Olivia asked herself as she stood next to the bar and watched the dining room full of people. At first, it’d been a request Jennifer Glover had made to check in on her estranged daughter and it’d been something Olivia had been more than happy to do for her employer. She would do anything for Jennifer. But, then she’d gotten here and actually met this “golden child”, Lena, and her motivations shifted.

It was no secret that Olivia had the desire to win the Glover seal of approval - to prove that she was so much more than just another employee. So, it came as little surprise to her when she’d found herself working closely with Simone to try and expose Lena for what she truly was. Ungrateful. Disrespectful. Unworthy of her mother's love. It started small, too small. She’d wasted so much of her time following Simone’s advice at seducing Jake - a tactic that proved less fruitful and more hurtful than she’d expected. A shove down the stairs and some red hair dye later, though, Olivia had moved on to a more effective tactic.

“Olive,” Jake said. “More whisky.”

She acted like she didn’t hear him, continuing to stand beside the bar and look as bored as she could until Nicky repeated the request. Ignoring them seemed to do more than any of her other attempts. It slowed down service and annoyed them so she considered it a win. As she made her way to the wine cellar she caught Simone’s stare. After the glass incident, they’d stopped speaking. Simone was of the mind that she’d gone too far and was being reckless, but in Olivia’s opinion, Simone lacked the conviction to do what had to be done to see results. That was why she’d been so unsuccessful at severing the bond Lena had crafted with the bartender. And it would be the reason she remained unsuccessful.

In just an hour and a half Olive had managed to drop every plate she touched and slow service down enough that Will finally cut her. As she changed her phone chimed. Wonderful work tonight, dear. You’ll have that rebellious girl of mine fired before the months up. 

That’s why, She told herself with a smile. Jennifer needed her help and so, Olivia would suffer the dull and tedious work. She’d sacrifice her nights and whatever public opinion the workers would form and she’d do it all with a smile. For Jennifer. And for Anthony.

*

“Holy fuck,” Scott sighed stretching out his neck. “That was fucking horrible.”

I watched Santos finish sweeping up the last of the shattered plates and ruined food. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever had to refire seven entrees at once before.”

Scoffing he tossed a rag onto the table. “Stupid bitch was relentless tonight.”

“Well, at least it’s over now.”

“Til tomorrow.” The whole kitchen groaned. “Thanksgiving sucks ass.”

Isaac quickly chimed in, “No, no, no! Working on Thanksgiving sucks ass!”

Rags flew through the air as the whole kitchen booed him up the stairs. I followed the rowdy kitchen crew to the locker room and changed as the servers quickly joined us with equal complaints about their last tables. Jake followed soon after with Simone, the sliver of tenseness I’d noticed earlier now far more prominent not just in his posture but also in his face. Closing my locker, I chose to follow the majority of the cooks downstairs rather than wait for Simone to vacate his side. If he wanted to talk to me about it, he would later.

Nicky made my drink and slid it towards me, waiting until Jake returned from changing to go upstairs to change himself. Simone sat down by the edge of the bar, watching Jake pour her a glass of wine with a pleased smile and a quiet thanks. She sent me a chilled smile as she lifted the glass to her nose to inhale the scent. Whatever had Jake stressed had something to do with her, and that simple fact made my chest burn.

“Great service tonight you guys,” Will announced with a relieved smile.

Scott took a long drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, the seven refires was real fun.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Seriously guys, if we can just get through to tomorrow then we’ll be set until Howard gets back.”

Sasha raised his glass with a playful smirk. “Cheers to the ever-inspiring words of encouragement from our sweet Will! This will certainly be more than enough to get us through the coming hellish turkey day!”

"Speaking of the holiday," I started after the cheering and laughter had died down, "What are all of you guys doing?"

Heather blew out a puff of smoke. "I'm going to visit my family."

Scott nodded. "Same."

Nicky grinned, "I get to have dinner with the inlaws!" Oohs and ahhs echoed through the group. "Thrilling, I know."

"I am going to spend the night in my apartment, masturbating!" Sasha proclaimed with a wicked but sad grin.

Ari just rolled her eyes, but she eventually smiled. "I have a date with my crazy hot girlfriend."

"Nana's?" I asked.

"Yeah. Are you going too?"

I nodded, sliding my empty glass to Jake. "Oh, everyone is. It's Nana's favorite holiday. She loves getting the whole family together for dinner." 

Turning my head and opening my mouth to give Jake an official invite to my family's celebration, I wasn't able to make a sound before Simone cut in. "Jake and I are spending the holiday in Cape Cod with my family."

Anyone looking at Jake could see the sheer dread that followed the statement, but only I could see just how deep it went. His jaw clenched painfully tight, and the steady movements of his hands faltered. Those mischievous blue eyes filled with despair, anger, and fear in seconds. He didn't want to go. He really didn't want to fucking go. But he would because of Simone.

My anger burned hotter in my chest as I forced myself to smile and nod. "Well anyone that wants to come to Nana's is more than welcome to! She always has plenty of food."

The conversation progressed as it usually did, Sasha teased, Ari laughed, Heather flirted with the cook she was casually seeing and all seemed well. Simone set her glass on the bartop and put her coat on. “Goodnight everyone. Jake, try not to be late tomorrow and please pack this time.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he replied flippantly, not even turning to look at her.

She smiled again, disgustingly pleased at his defeated tone. Fucking bitch. As her dumb blonde head vanished out the door I shifted my focus back to the tight-faced bartender who avoided eye contact with everyone around him, me included. All my lingering thoughts and anxieties about the conversations we still needed to have and the things that had clearly changed between us faded away. Now all that mattered was finding a way to help him.

Scott slid his glass towards Jake. “We’re going for food, you in?”

“Sure,” he replied, turning to leave. “You guys go ahead. I’ve gotta grab my jacket.”

Ari rubbed my back. “Coming, Tiger?”

I stood up, following after Jake. “Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Of course, they need a quick fuck to work up their appetites,” Sasha teased, effectively dodging Heather’s slap. “What? We’re all thinking it?”

Upstairs Jake stared into his locker, holding his jacket in a tight grip, his back heaving up and down. It’d been a long time since I’d seen him like this. How dare she put him through this. “So…” I carefully broached. “You're going to The Cape?”

Jake sighed, restless and angry as he shoved his arms into the sleeves. “Looks that way.”

“Fuck The Cape.” I set a hand on his arm, luring his eyes to mine. “Fuck all of it unless it's what you want.”

“Simone-”

Fuck her too, I almost said. “Isn't you. What do you want?”

His jaw clenched as he shook his head and stretched his neck in that nervous way he did. “I… I don't know.”

Tugging on his arm I nodded to the door. “Come on.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jake sighed, still following me anyway.

“We’re not going to eat.”

“Then where are we-”

“No more questions,” I replied, pulling him out into the cold. “Just trust me.”

We walked in silence most of the way to the theater, but the second Jake saw the lights and the movie posters he seemed to stop resisting so much. As I looked up at him the weight in his eyes and shoulders seemed to lax. “What are we seeing?”

I shrugged, “No clue.”

The only two tickets they had left were for another horror movie, which I’d quickly declined, and some new romantic comedy that didn’t sound like something either of us would particularly enjoy. Jake didn’t seem to care though, and I assumed it was something that really didn’t matter to him. A distraction was a distraction, and that’s all he wanted right now. So, I grabbed the popcorn, he grabbed the drinks and we both found seats in the surprisingly full theater. It wasn’t quite the same as last time. Jake’s tension proved to be more difficult to ease than mine had, but I reached over and took hold of his hand and he accepted the small gesture. Squeezing my hand in his as he watched the screen in front of us with mild interest, I knew he was grateful for my small attempt to take his mind off Simone and The Cape and Thanksgiving and everything his mind refused to let him forget. 

After the movie had ended, we lingered in the alley next to the theater, sharing a cigarette. Fuck The Cape, I wanted to remind him again. Fuck that place that made us so miserable, I wanted to scream at him. Stay. Instead of pressuring him even more to defy the will of Simone I simply asked, “Did that help at all?”

“Kinda,” he replied. “This is just… complicated.”

“I understand.” Leaning back against the wall beside him I sighed, “Do you know what you’re gonna do yet?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I set my head against his arm. “No one’s going to blame you for going home, Jake.”

"Home is the past," he said, voice soft. He was angry and bitter as he stared ahead at the alley wall opposite us, but this tone was something new. Something that sounded like the voice of a lost boy, one desperate to break away from all that had hurt him while also trying not to disappoint those he'd deemed important.

Lifting my head I touched his cheek, gently letting my fingers smooth over his skin. "Home might be the past, but you can't run from that. You can't go back and change how things were. Ignore it... Try to forget it… It's only going to come back stronger, angrier." His eyes softened as he looked at me. "Home is the past, but it's a past you'll need to face eventually." I sighed. "One we'll both have to face.”

Jake turned, looking down at me with a newfound brightness in his eyes. He breathed the last of the smoke out of his lungs and tossed the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it beneath his foot. “Let’s go get drunk.”

“Yeah?” I asked, smiling at him. “You think that’ll help?”

“Can’t hurt to try,” he said, bumping into me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”

Rolling my eyes I pressed myself into his body, a light, teasing laugh bubbling up out of my chest. “Like this?”

He hummed, hands sliding up my back and squeezing my sides. “Yeah, like that.”

“Come on then,” I urged, leaning away from him. “Let’s go get hammered.”

Jake's fingers laced between mine, the warmth of his palm filling my own as we walked hand in hand toward Ozzy's. To the passersby, we probably looked like just another dumb-in-love couple and I was okay with that. I was happy with the thought and hopeful that it meant there was a chance for this… for us.

The group was already gathered around the bar when we arrived. As we got closer a familiar head of blonde hair and plain clothes that hid a well-toned body appeared in the center of our friends. Sam made jokes that everyone laughed at, showing off the charming personality that made everyone around him fall head over heels.

Quinn, who was already plastered, spotted us and quickly waved. “Look who decided to show up!”

Sam spread his arms out and smiled sheepishly. "You said you'd buy me a drink if I ditched the uniform."

"I did," I replied, moving from Jake's side to slide behind the bar. "What'll it be, just Sam?"

“Just beer,” he answered.

Chuckling at the memories of the way his face always scrunched up in disgust at every other drink he tried, I grabbed him a bottle. “Shoulda known. You never did enjoy anything else.”

Sam sat down across from me and shrugged. “Not for lack of trying. I think you made me every drink you knew.”

“Course she did,” Quinn said with a grin. “She liiikkkeeedd you!”

We both rolled our eyes at her, Sam’s face a little more red than before as he quietly sipped his beer. I lifted my head and found Jake standing a few feet away from the bar, the relaxation and playfulness I’d managed to pull out of him gone as he glared at the back of Sam’s head. With an easy smile, one meant to hopefully bring back what we’d spend hours in a shitty movie trying to reach, I nodded him over. “What’s your drink tonight, tough guy? I believe you were wanting to get wasted.”

He finally moved, standing at least a seat away from Sam and leaning against the bar. “Dealer’s choice.”

“Dangerous game,” I cautioned. “Giving a delinquent like me free reign over your drink.”

The smile was microscopic, but I still saw it. “I live for the thrill.”

“Alright, one mystery drink coming up.”

Quinn had slid between the dark-haired bartender and the light-haired cop, an evil grin plastered to her face as she regarded them both. “So, how’s life been treating you, Sam?”

Sam gulped. “Can’t complain.”

“I mean you could,” she urged. “I won’t tell a soul that the golden boy had a few tiffs with life.”

“I’m good, Quinny,” he insisted. “But thanks for asking.”

She turned to Jake, pinching his cheek. “And how's our resident grump?”

He slapped her hand away and glared at her. “Great.”

“Yikes! You seem extra grumpy tonight!” She giggled. “There a new stick up your ass or something?” Without a word, Jake pushed away from the bar and headed toward our usual booth. Quinn feigned a look of shock. “You think it was something I said?”

“Could you just not be a bitch for like two minutes?” I asked, shaking my head as I finished Jake and I’s drinks.

Quinn hummed. “I probably could, but it sounds pretty boring, so I’ll pass!”

Ari pulled on her arm, dragging her out of her seat and toward the dancing crowd. “Come on! I love this song!”

Will and Prue walked into the bar together, sitting down beside Sam. While Prue greeted the off-duty cop, Will set his head on the bar and sighed. “It was a pretty long night tonight, huh?”

“With Howard gone… yeah,” he answered.

“I’ll make you something strong,” I offered, getting Prue’s attention before asking, “Want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m on Will duty.” She looked over at him and gently rubbed his back. “He’s having a rough week.”

The second I touched a glass Ozzy’s loud voice boomed over the bar. “Oi! You ain’t on bar duty tonight!”

I glanced at him with an innocent smile. “I’m just helping out Oz.”

“Not tonight you’re not!” He gestured to the two bartenders already working. “I’ve got two boys back here, let em get some work in will ya? Shoo!”

“Oz-”

“Shoo!” He repeated, ushering me out from behind the bar with a shake of his head. “Go have fun. Take a load off for once, love.”

“Alright, alright!” I reached over and grabbed Jake and my drinks. “Bossy much?”

The big man scoffed and pointed at me with that fatherly smirk of his. “I shouldn’t have to be bossin you to take some time to yourself.”

Dodging the crowd I made my way to the booth where Jake sulked by himself. Patrick, who’d spent all of two seconds by the table, gave me a look and mouthed He’s grumpy on his way past me. I set the drink in front of Jake. “One Mexican Firing Squad.” He gave me a look, one that I quickly shot down with a pointed reply, “You gave me creative freedom. This is on you.”

“Right. Next time remind me not to let you pick the drinks.”

“Scooch.” He sipped on his drink, refusing the move that rigid body of his as an act of defiance. Using the empty side of the booth I slid around to sit beside him and took a victorious drink of my cocktail. I let the tense silence roll over me for a minute before finally choosing to say something. “Quinn's got a point, you do seem extra grumpy all of a sudden.” Nudging his arm I asked, “What sticks up your ass now?”

Jake scoffed and quickly downed his drink, showcasing little regret afterward. “I'm just peachy.”

I gave him a look. “Come on, Jake.”

“Don't worry about it, Princess.” His eyes shifted to Sam, who’d joined my brothers at another table, and his face scrunched lightly in clear displeasure. “I'm fine.”

“Ahh,” I hummed in realization. A funny, prideful feeling made my chest feel warmer. “So it's not a stick up your ass, it's a baton.” Jake didn't bother replying. I sat back in the booth and looked down at my fingers. “Are you jealous of Sam?”

That got him talking. “I'm not jealous of some uptight asshole cop.”

Hiding my smirk behind my glass I shrugged. “Sam's hardly an asshole and he's not very uptight.”

“Well, you'd know, wouldn't you?”

“Yeah, I would.” Tilting my head to meet his eyes I quietly asked, “Is that a problem?”

With a sigh Jake shook his head, finally allowing himself to relax. “No. It's just… He's clearly still into you and…”

“And that makes you feel… Weird, given everything that's happened between us,” I finished.

“Yeah.” He looked at me, eyes finally softening. “I'm sorry if I'm being an ass.”

Smiling wide enough to reassure him I lifted a hand to stroke his cheek. “You're almost always an ass in some way. Guess I'm getting used to it.”

With a quiet laugh, he smiled. “Good to know.” Standing he grabbed both our glasses. “I'll get us refills.”

“Jake.” I stopped him with a hand on his arm. He turned and I lifted myself out of the seat to press my lips to his. His body leaned into mine, lips moving in harmony with my own without hesitation. When we pulled away from each other I smiled again, slightly nervous to voice the reassuring words that clung to my throat. “Whatever this is… You have my full attention.”

Though he chuckled, I could see that he felt better after I said it. “Do I?”

I settled back in my seat, cheeks red and chest warm and fuzzy. “Yep. Try not to let it go to your head.”

“Too late, Princess,” he announced. “You've got my ego all inflated now.”

“Damn,” I joked. “Guess I'll have to be meaner to you.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” he replied with a wink as he turned and headed to the bar.

My face felt hotter as I stared down into my lap. I could only imagine just how red I looked and I was glad Quinn was too busy with Ari to make fun of me. It was just so easy with Jake. The warmth and the fuzziness that came with something new and exciting was now a persistent feeling. Every moment I spent with him I felt so… Happy. It was sickening. Then there was the unknown but very obvious feeling that made me want to hop onto his lap - as I had so many times before - take that pretty face in my hands and tell him he was mine.

Something glittering in the dancing crowd caught my eye, drawing attention to the familiar entourage of finely dressed men and one woman covered in expensive jewels and an easy smile. Mav. Fucking hell. I jumped out of the booth and made my way through the crowd as quickly and as gently as I could, trying to reach the bar and give everyone a warning before…

Mav's men hung back as she settled in beside Jake. Ozzy offered her a kind if not slightly tense greeting, “Mav, didn't expect to see you here tonight.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she replied in that sultry voice of hers as her rich amber eyes drifted to Jake. “So, this is him then? Your girls Jake?”

The two bartenders exchanged a look before Ozzy cleared his throat. “What can I get ya?”

Mav ignored him, lifting her finger to trace Jake's jaw as she grinned. "Oh he is cute, isn't he?"

I hurried forward with a loud proclamation, “MAV!” From across the room, Dom’s head shot up and he was on his feet in seconds. I tried to subtly place my body between hers and Jake's. It wasn’t so subtle, judging by the way she chuckled at me. “Long time no see. How's business?”

“Oh, you know how it goes. Money, drugs, sex, booze, bar fights, the occasional murder,” she replied with a casual shrug as she turned her head to take a sip of the drink Oz had offered up. “I can't complain.”

“Sounds fun.”

“You're more than welcome to tag along one of these days.” Mav grinned over my shoulder at Jake. “I'll even let you bring your boy toy.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Thanks but no thanks. I'm not really doing that kinda stuff anymore.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That's not what I heard.” Sliding her finger along the rim of her glass she chuckled. “You and Eddie paid one of my boys a visit not too long ago.”

“We did.”

“Fucked him up pretty bad.” Her voice was soft as silk as she smiled, baring her teeth. “I was impressed. You always did know just how to leave men a whimpering and sniffling shell.” 

“Mav I-”

She shushed me and with a long nail, she fixed my hair. “You get things done, Lena. I’ve always respected that.”

The only thing you could count on when it came to Mav was her unpredictability. And while I was confident that Mav liked me enough not to slit my throat I still chose to tread cautiously. “Do you know why I did it?”

“No. And I don't care. That boy…” She turned toward her men, her chestnut hair falling over her shoulder. “What's his name again?”

“Aaron.”

“Right,” she laughed. “Aaron. He was a huge fuck up. Wasted more of my time and money than any of my husbands. You did me a favor putting him in his place. So I came to extend my gratitude.”

Dom made his way through the crowd, eyeing her men for a minute before he stood there, staring at Mav's back. The soft look in his eyes held all the history between them. “That's awfully generous of you.”

Mav turned toward the sound of his voice, a real smile settling on her lips. “Well, well, if it isn't the junkyard king himself.” 

They looked each other up and down for a long moment. Jake leaned over my shoulder. “So… What's going on here?”

“I'll tell you later,” I whispered back.

“Mavis,” Dom said, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips.

“Dominic,” she replied, watching with gleeful delight as he kissed her hand. “Always such a gentleman.”

With a shrug, the biker straightened his back. “If I were a gentleman I'd be buried next to your other husbands.”

“True,” she admitted with a laugh.

“So,” Dom started. “Is it business or pleasure tonight?”

“Business,” Mav said. “Always business.”

With a nod he settled in at the end of the bar, casually leaning on it as he watched her. “I'm all ears.”

“My business isn't with you.” Mav turned back towards me and extended one of her signature platinum cards to me.

“Mav I can't-”

She shushed me. “Take it, dear. As a thank you for fixing a problem for me.”

“I don't need your money.”

“Nonsense!” She insisted, waving me off. “Money offers people like us a lot of freedoms. Why do you think I got rid of those pesky husbands so quickly?”

"Haven't killed all your husbands," Dom said with a fond grin.

Mav returned the look, though it was harder to see in her. "There's still time."

“This is too much.”

“Lena,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Take the money. Have some fun. Buy your boy something special.” Winking at Jake over my shoulder she set the card on the bar next to me. “You've more than earned it.”

“Thank you, Mav.”

Standing she turned to Dom and jabbed his chest with her finger. “And you. Tell that moronic brother of yours to stay off my turf.”

Dom leaned down, pressing their bodies closer together. “Whatever you say, darling.”

“I mean it. Next time Eddie shows up uninvited he's going to lose some limbs.”

“Call if you need help chopping,” he replied with a laugh. “I'd love to get a few licks in.”

“Idiots, both of you.”

Dom watched her go with a look that made me feel squeamish. I grabbed the card and turned back to Jake and the others who'd gathered at the bar behind him. “Looks like drinks are on me for the next few months.”

Quinn clapped loudly, urging the group to cheer. Sasha lifted his glass and loudly yelled, “TIGER BITCH!”

“Tiger Bitch!” Everyone joined in.

Ozzy took the card and shook his head. “I disapprove of your involvement.”

“Buuuttt…”

“I'm not going to turn down Mav's money.” He tucked the card away. “I'm no fool.”

Jake leaned on the bar next to me with a curious grin. “So, what's the story there?”

“Mav is Dom's ex-wife.” Glancing over at the biker I shook my head before loudly announcing, “And there's clearly some lingering sexual tension.”

He glared at me. Nodding toward Jake he answered, “You sure you wanna go there, kid?”

Holding my hands up in defeat I shook my head. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought.”

Turning back to Jake I shrugged. “She's relentless and kind of terrifying, but she likes me so it's alright.”

He laughed and accepted another drink from Oz. “You and your gangsters. So, how much money was on that card?”

“At least ten grand.”

Jake spit his drink out and coughed. “Are you serious?”

Nodding, I smirked. “Me and my gangsters.”

Oz tossed him a bar rag. “Oi, clean that up.”

“Sorry Oz,” he replied, wiping up his mess.

Sam set his empty bottle on the bar and thanked Ozzy when he took it. “Sooo, I just ran into Mav on her way out. You, uh, spending time with her again?”

I shook my head. “No, I just…” As I looked up into his eyes I could see the cringe settle on his face. He was begging me not to say something incriminating, so I chuckled and finished with, “Walked her dog.”

The cop in him saw straight through the lie, but the friend in him just laughed. “That’s what you’re sticking with?”

“She has three big dogs,” I argued. “I could have walked one!”

“When have you ever walked her dogs?”

My mouth hung open as my brain desperately tried to conjure up any instance where I’d done more than pet her dogs. “When… She… I… Shut up!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jake grab another drink and down it just as quickly as he had the first. Maybe getting drunk wasn’t the best idea to encourage. Before I could offer him any kind of reassurance Patrick hollered from their table, “Jake!”

The second he moved from my side I sighed, watching him sit down beside my brothers and talk. Sam glanced that way and smiled. “It’s nice to see those two haven’t lost their tendency to adopt your… friends.”

“Yeah. They always seem to find the guys I bring home so interesting.”

“In their defense. You do have an interesting taste in men.” He gestured to himself, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean just look at me! Suburban good boy with the dream to become a cop!”

I laughed. “You are very interesting, Sammy.”

“And handsome,” he added.

“That too.”

Sam’s eyes returned to that table. “So… It seems like Jake makes you happy. I’m glad you found him.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Me too.”

All at once the memories of Sam and I came flooding my brain. We’d had a lot of good times, a lot of passion, and more vulnerability than I’d ever been able to muster up at the time. On paper, Sam was everything I could have wanted. Good, kind, gentle, strong, smart and funny. My dads and brothers and friends all loved him. It should have worked. Should have, but didn’t. And it didn’t because of me. After a long, still silence, I quietly admitted, "I've been thinking about a lot of stuff recently. About that fight we had."

Sam shook his head, his smile only faltering a little. "Don't, Lena."

I looked at him long and hard, the man who could've given me everything I'd wanted at the time. "I'm sorry for being so horrible to you."

"You were hardly horrible, Lee."

"I was a bitch."

With a sigh, he turned fully toward me. "Do you remember what I said to you?"

"You wanted to know why-"

"After that."

My jaw clenched as I nodded. "I do."

"Then I guess I don't." The words burnt me from the inside out, venomous and ugly… A reflection of myself.

Sam looked sad… Heartbroken maybe, but he still smiled at me. "That's okay."

Liar, I'd wanted to say. But, Sam just sighed and stepped closer. "It's okay if you don't love me back, Lee. It's okay if you don't want this to be anything more than some fun casual thing. I just… I wanted us to be on the same page so I don't go sayin something stupid again and making you upset."

"Get out."

"Lena-"

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stepped away from him. Hideous emotions spurring life inside my chest. Angry wounds urging me to hit him, to scream at him and destroy everything we ever had. A monster lurking over my shoulder with a taunting whisper, "I'm the only one that could ever love you."

"Get out," I repeated. "Please, Sam."

Sam's reassuring hand on my own pulled me from that dark memory. "I love you, Lena."

My throat felt tight as I stared up at him, longing to return the words but unable to. "I know."

"I love you," he repeated with a smile. "In whatever way you need me to."

"I'm sorry." Sorry, I can't say it back. Sorry, I couldn't keep myself from hurting you. "For all of it."

His smile was blinding as he squeezed my hand. "I'm not. So it didn't work out in the end, big deal. We still had some fun, didn't we?"

I smiled too, the fond memories of Sam gently soothing the heavy weight in my chest. "Yeah, we did."

"And, we turned out to be pretty good friends, right?"

"Perfect friends."

Clearing his throat, Sam checked his watch. “Well, I’ve got to go. I’m working tomorrow morning.”

Before I could talk myself out of it, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

He squeezed me tight and chuckled. “I won’t be. I’ll just remember to leave the uniform at home.”

“Good idea. Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, Lee.” He stood and waved at everyone else. “See you around.”

“See you around, Sammy.”

*

Jake had vacated the Harrow brothers’ table shortly after they’d waved him over for Patrick’s rundown of his schedule after Thanksgiving. “You’ll need to get in some solid reps after having Nana’s food,” Patrick had said with a loud laugh. 

The fact that he’d just assumed, expected, Jake to be attending their family celebrations only made Simone’s plans for him sting worse. He wanted to go to Nana’s - wanted to spend the day surrounded by the loud Harrow gang’s chaos. He wanted to leave full and happy, smelling like meat and curry. There was nothing Jake wanted more in the world than to spend just one holiday in a place where he felt he belonged. 

He’d excused himself and walked outside to the front of Ozzy’s bar, just breathing in the fresh air and wallowing in his self-pity. How many years had it been that he’d followed Simone back to the fucking Cape every holiday? How many years had Jake spent miserable and stuck so far in the past that he felt like he was drowning? 

“Home is the past.” He still remembered the night Tess had said those words to him. At the time it wasn’t about her saying them, it was the feeling he felt hearing it. Jake had kissed her that night and had made plans with her that deep down he knew he wouldn't be able to keep but all of that had been less about Tess and more about those four simple words.  Home is the past. 

"Home is the past, but it's a past you'll need to face eventually. One we'll both have to face.” Lena was right. He’d spent every year getting dragged back, every single year for as long as he could remember, running from The Cape… home… until that word held nothing but dread and anger and pain.

Home, he thought to himself, letting his eyes drift closed - letting the word sit in his mind for a moment. Home. It wasn’t Cape Cod his brain associated with the thought of a home. It wasn’t Simone or the restaurant or even his apartment. It was red hair glowing in the setting sun, loud laughter, and a crinkling freckled nose. It was soft touches, dancing, making drinks. It was late-night walks, kisses on the Ferris wheel, and that addictive tightness in his gut that made everything in him feel more alive every second he spent by her side. Home was waking up to Lena’s green eyes and her tired smile. Home was her.

Whatever this was between them, this unnamed thing, this thing they both seemed so afraid of… it was everything. Jake opened his eyes and the name for it was right there, sitting in his mind like Hemingway curled up on one of his chairs. This was something he never thought it could be, yet the one thing that now seemed so obvious.

Forcing himself to let the word go, Jake turned back to the door and walked down the steps into the bar. Lena had hopped back behind the bar, helping serve drinks as Ozzy shook his head from the office door, insisting that she go have fun. He could practically hear her sassy, “This is fun” from there. The blonde cop carefully made his way out of the crowd of people and smiled at him, stopping to wave. “Hey, Jake. You heading out?”

“No,” he answered. “Just needed some air.”

He nodded and turned to look back at the bar. “I get that. Bars aren’t really my scene either.”

Course they aren’t, he thought to himself. A goody two shoes like Officer Mayfield wouldn’t find bars appealing. He didn’t harbor the same sadness or anger that most people did. He didn’t really get the reason why bars like this were so popular and it made Jake feel like he did around Will. Inadequate. Pathetic. Broken.

"You're lucky," Sam said after a moment of stiff silence.

Jake bit back a bitter laugh. "Am I?"

The officer nodded, eyes never leaving the bar. "She's incredible."

His eyes shifted, following the blondes until Lena filled his vision again. "Yeah, she is."

Once again the man beside him smiled. "She's different with you… Open and happy. You're lucky, not a lot of people get to see that side of her."

Lucky. It was one of Jake's least favorite words. After all that had happened to him, all he'd been forced to find a way to survive luck was just another thing he never had. Yet, standing in the booming bar, surrounded by friends, he had to agree with Officer Mayfield. Lena met his gaze and smiled, pouring a drink as she winked at him. He was lucky. Maybe for the first time in his life.

Sam gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Don't fuck it up. There isn't another girl out there like her, trust me."

Against his better judgment Jake nodded, "If there is, I'm sure you'll find her."

"Thanks," Sam replied. "See you around, Jake."

"See you around, Officer Mayfield."

"Please," the man said with a chuckle. "Call me Sam."

“Alright… Sam.”

After a few more drinks and a few more hours of listening to rowdy bar conversations, while being completely distracted by Lena, the night was over. Quinn and Ari went back to her hotel, Prue and Will went back to his apartment and everyone else slowly filtered out until it was just him and the Harrows. Lena rested her head on the top of the bar, lazily sloshing the remainder of her drink around in her glass with a tired look in her eyes. Patrick helped Ozzy close the bar down while Peter closed the bar down and Oz handled some paperwork. 

It was organized, methodical, and something he found peaceful. Lena looked at him and smiled. “Well, did drinking make you feel better?”

He shrugged. “Neither of us got nearly fucked up enough. You didn’t even drunkenly grope me.”

Clicking her tongue she lightly tapped him with her foot. “There, consider yourself groped.”

Patrick made a face. “Could you two please wait until I’m out of earshot to do that?”

“Well,” Lena said, choosing to ignore her brother. “You’re welcome to stay with us tonight.”

“I should go back to my place,” Jake admitted. “I gotta feed the cat or he’ll tear my sheets to shreds.”

“That would be a shame. Your sheets are amazing.” She sat up, stretching her limbs for a second before finding her footing. “I’ll walk you out.”

Jake followed her, giving the rest of them a short farewell before they stepped out into the cold night. Lena shivered and without a second thought, Jake slid off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He watched, smiling like an idiot, as she did a little dance and happily shoved her arms through the openings. 

They walked up the road a few feet before stopping. Everything he realized, everything he felt, pulsed through him like an ocean current as he looked at her yet he couldn’t bring himself to voice any of them. Luckily, Lena seemed to have found some courage in one of the glasses she’d drank that night. “So, I… I know we have a lot to discuss about…” She awkwardly gestured between them. “Us. And I know that with everything going on, there hasn’t really been a good time to… you know, talk.”

“We don’t have to do this right now.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I just… I guess I want you to know that I meant it.”

Jake tilted his head slightly, a subconscious movement to cover up the way his heart stuttered. “Meant what?”

She stepped closer and smiled, her green eyes sparkled beneath the city lights. “You have my full attention, Jake. I… I don’t know what this is or what we’re doing but… I like it. I like you.” Lena slowly lifted herself up to press her lips to his just like she had in the bar. And just like that, everything else didn’t matter. Once she pulled away a blush settled on her cheeks.  “So, yeah… I just wanted you to know that.”

For the first time that night, Jake truly smiled. His hands cupped her cheeks and he kissed her again. “You’ve got my full attention too, Princess.”

“Give Hemingway a hug for me,” she said, alcohol-ridden breath fanning across his lips. He opened his mouth to tease her about calling him by the name she insisted didn’t fit, but Lena quickly slapped his arm. “Don’t say it!”

“Alright,” he said smugly. “I’ll save it for later.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight, Lena.”

That night, with Hemingway curled up by his feet Jake stared at his empty suitcase and the text message Simone had sent him about the time she wanted him to be at her apartment for their trip. He didn’t want to go to Cape Cod. He wanted to go to dinner with Lena’s family, to laugh and joke and eat until he couldn’t move. Jake wanted to stay home. And he would. This time he’d stay.

*

Thanksgiving morning was always interesting at the Harrow house. When our dad was alive he’d spend all day in the kitchen prepping his famous turkey for the journey to Nana’s diner. In the years that followed his death, Peter had taken his place, spending hours upon hours slow-cooking the damn bird. The first year it was blackened and completely inedible. The years that followed he got progressively better until he was unable to cook at all due to his cancer. Nana and Abdul covered the turkey for a while, but now Pete was back and he was determined to perfect the bird this year.

So, I woke to the smell of cooking meat and the blaring of Pat’s music. I ate breakfast with my brothers and gave Peter some tips for his bird and then I was off to work. Scott had asked that all the kitchen crew show up early so we could get ahead of the night before it took any turns for the worst. Will had made a similar request, one everyone had scoffed at and would likely ignore.

The walk that morning was peaceful. Stores put up their black Friday signs and everyone on the streets had a nicer demeanor than they usually did, a phenomenon that was strictly reserved for the holidays and even then this was still New York City. 22West had decorated the stairs with a garland of fall leaves and the door with a wreath, but other than that it remained the same at Aunt Maddie’s insistence no doubt.

My heart dropped into my stomach as I walked through the front door and saw just Nicky behind the bar greeting me with a smile. “Morning, Red.”

“Morning,” I answered, just as another man, older and definitely not my grumpy bartender, returned from the kitchen with a pallet of glasses. Finding the strength to move my feet and smile through the hellish pain that now stabbed my chest I extended a hand to the unknown face I said, “I don't think we've met before.”

The man shook my hand with a relieved chuckle, “Names Sam. I'm the one they call when they run outta options.”

“I'm sure they call you because you're good at your job, Sam. I'm Lena.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You look familiar.”

“We've probably seen each other in passing at some point,” I replied. “I’ve been around for a while.”

“You're Maddie's niece!” Snapping his fingers he laughed. “Oh, last time I saw you, you were only ye big.” He lifted a hand to his stomach, showcasing the size he spoke of.

Awkwardly laughing I shrugged. “Sounds like me. Well, it was nice meeting you, or seeing you again I guess.”

The old man Sam chuckled and returned to his work. “You too.”

Scott was barking orders when I entered the kitchen and headed for the stairs. The locker room was uncharacteristically quiet as I changed. No Sasha to make his crude jokes, no Ari to laugh at them, no Heather to chide them both… No Jake to make me feel warm and fuzzy. I bitterly swallowed a lump in my throat as I found myself wanting to cry. Pull it together, Lena. This was his decision, I reminded myself. It was his choice. And then, the steady thoughts shifted to the truth of what I felt. But he didn’t choose me. My fingers deftly buttoned up my chef's coat as I shook my head. Nope. We’re not doing that. I wouldn’t let myself resent his choice to go with Simone. I wouldn’t let myself turn into her, not even for one fraction of a second.

Closing my locker I headed downstairs and jumped into work, burying myself in it. Burying everything I felt, everything I wanted to feel beneath the sauces and spices and chopping of meat and vegetables. Nothing else mattered, nothing but the food in front of me. And for a while that worked. Then, service started and everything went to shit.

Sasha barreled through the kitchen doors and set his plate down on the table with a loud clack. “Table fourteen says this is overcooked.”

“Like hell it is!” Scott argued, rushing over to inspect it. “God damn rich assholes. Refire on fourteen.”

Heather followed after, setting down two soups. “Table five says the soups are cold.”

A vein in Scott’s neck looked seconds away from bursting. “Who are they, fuckin Neely? Refire two soups!”

Ari came in hot on Heather’s heels. “Table twelve wants two more entrees.”

Scott wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed. “Fucking Thanksgiving.”

“Lena!” Will hollered, rushing up from the wine cellar. “We’re getting fucked out there, would you please hop on and help us?”

I glanced at Scott, who reluctantly nodded, and stripped myself of my coat. “Sure thing, boss.”

From that point on whatever needed done, I was on top of it. Bar restocks, serving, scouring the wine cellar, dishes, all of it was my wheelhouse tonight. And again, for a while that worked. It took my mind off of Jake and Simone and the fucking Cape. It took my mind off of everything else because all that mattered at the moment was the work. And then, just like before, it all went to shit.

I helped Santos scrub the last of the dishes before Ari tapped my shoulder and gave me a weird look. “Uh, table four is requesting you.”

“What?”

She gulped. “It’s… It’s your mom.”

Fuck. I sighed and dried my hands off. “Of course it is.”

Sure enough, there she was, sitting in the center of the lobby with a gleaming smile on her face. I straightened my shoulders and walked out toward her with a blank expression. She wasn’t gonna fucking win. Not tonight. Not if I could help it. “Good afternoon, maam. What can I get for you tonight?”

Jennifer laughed. “Come now, darling. I think we can drop the formalities.”

“Fine. Tell me what the fastest way to get you out of here is.”

“I’ll have the special and a bottle of your finest red. After that, a conversation.” She grinned again. “Quite reasonable, isn’t it?”

I turned on my heel and took her order to the kitchen before spending far too long in the cellar, picking out the shittiest wine I could find before returning to her table. She sent the food back, of course, and spilled her wine and made the night an absolute horror. While all the other guests began to funnel out, Jennifer remained until I finally snapped. “What do you fucking want?”

“Some appreciation,” she bit back. “For once in your goddamn life, could you just be grateful for all that I’ve done for you?”

Though it didn’t make the situation easier, it certainly made me feel better to laugh in her face. “You didn’t give me shit.”

"I made you strong," she said with a proud raise of her head.

"No, you didn't," I replied coldly. "You almost destroyed me. You gave me nightmares. You made me feel so inferior I got addicted to drugs trying to earn your love. You sold me… groomed me to be his. He may have been the one that almost killed me, but you were the one that pulled the strings and I hate you for it." Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I held her stare. "I hate you. I will always hate you. No matter how many times you show up and insert yourself into my life that will never fucking change."

Jennifer sneered, “I am your mother.”

Shaking my head I replied, “No. My mother was a teacher and a painter. She took care of me, taught me, protected me more than you ever did.” Her lips thinned as she glared at me, clearly displeased I'd brought up Rada. “My mother died trying to protect me. She's gone and still, I love her more than I've ever loved you.”

“You ungrateful little-”

I set the check on her table. “Pay and get the fuck out.”

As I walked away I could hear her huffing and puffing, but in the end I’d won. By the time I’d come back she was gone. Closing everything down for the night took longer than usual, but once we’d all finished and changed we parted ways with relieved smiles. Sasha and Ari walked with me to Nana’s. It was a beautiful sight, her large window painted with a big cartoon turkey and my family inside setting the huge line of tables they’d pulled together to make enough room. As much as I felt relieved, happy, that I was here with them I couldn’t quite shake the anger and the hurt that Jennifer’s visit had brought me. She served as a reminder of those three years I spent away from my family, and I fucking hated it. 

“How was work?” Abdul asked from behind the counter as we all funneled in.

I reached over the counter and grabbed one of the beers from the cooler, popping it open and practically chugging it before answering with a hoarse, “Just great.”

Nodding he gestured to the back. “I'll grab the tequila.”

“Thanks, Pop Pop.”

“There you all are!” Nana cheered, greeting us with hugs and kisses as she searched the crowd with her eyes. “Happy Thanksgiving my dears!”

Sasha and Ari spared me a look as I took another swig of my drink. They quickly began mumbling thank yous and holiday wishes. “Yep, Happy Thanks-fucking-giving.”

She frowned, swatting my arm with one of her magazines. “Language, Lena!”

“Sorry,” I said, hoping the word would somehow help alleviate how shitty I felt about my mothers’ appearance tonight, and about how I knew that Jake was miserable.

Nana sighed and stroked my cheek. “Smile, Habibi. Today is a day for thanks and for happiness. We are all together, that is what matters, yes?”

Not all of us… “Yeah.”

“Good,” she said, turning around to holler toward the kitchen. “Hurry with the food boys, our guests are getting hungry!”

The kitchen door opened and Abdul led Patrick and Peter out with hands filled with various meats and side dishes that all looked and smelt amazing. A foot caught the door just before it closed and a sarcastic, familiar voice, called out. “Thanks for holding the door, dickhead.”

Nana turned, quick as a whip. “Jake! Language!”

My heart stopped. Jake. The dark-haired bartender stepped out of the kitchen with a roguish grin. “Sorry Nana.” He bent down a kissed her cheek, moving to follow Patrick to the tables when his eyes met mine. Beneath his unwavering gaze, I felt tears start to build in my eyes as the relief of seeing him… Of him being here soothed the ache in my chest.

Sasha threw an arm around my shoulder and wagged a finger in his face. "Jakey! We weren't expecting to see your grumpy face tonight!"

Ari settled in her seat next to Quinn and smiled. "Yeah, what happened to going to The Cape?"

His eyes never left mine as he shrugged and answered simply, "Fuck The Cape."

I smiled, a light laugh escaping from my tight throat as I shook my head, reaching out to take one of the plates from him. "Here, let me help you."

“Thanks, Princess.”

The noise of my family was loud as ever, but all I seemed to be able to hear was Jake. Everything he said, every move he made, I was perfectly honed into him… Half expecting this to be a dream. We sat next to each other as Nana and Abdul said their prayers and thanked everyone for coming. Peter stood, unveiling the perfectly cooked turkey and eating up the oos and aahs that filled the diner. “Finally an edible turkey!”

Katie jabbed Patrick in the ribs. “Be nice!”

“I’m always nice,” my brother insisted leaning in to give her a big, wet kiss.

Isaac kissed Peter as he sat back down. “It looks amazing babe!”

Jake’s hand slid onto my knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes stayed focused ahead as he complemented the food, “Everything looks amazing.”

Nana smiled from across the table. “Thank you for coming so early to help, sweet Jake.”

“Yeah, thank’s sweet Jake,” Patrick taunted.

“How long have you been here?” I asked, looking up at him, still shocked.

“He showed up this morning,” Nana replied. “Knocked on our door like a polite gentleman and asked what we needed.”

Abdul laughed. “Poor boys been worked half to death!”

Jake smiled and shrugged, looking a bit awkward as he insisted, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“We even made his favorite dessert,” Nana proudly leaned over to lift a pie into the air. “Lemon meringue.”

He came this morning… That meant… Jake had chosen to stay. He’d chosen not to go with Simone and to come here instead. I forced myself to act normally as we all dished up and stuffed our mouths with delicious food, but nothing could contain my smile and the surge of joy that filled me. Jake had stayed. He chose me.

The night was filled with laughter and dancing and drinking and more food than any of us could even attempt to finish. When we’d all had our fill and packed ourselves leftovers, Nana and Abdul gathered help from Dom and the bikers to deliver the rest to those in need. I stood outside and watched the lot carefully pack the boxes onto their bikes when Jake walked out and stood beside me. “It’s pretty cool they donate some of the food.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Nana and Abdul are kind of the best.”

“They really are.”

"I'm really glad you came tonight," I finally whispered looking up at the faint stars in the sky. "It was… A rough day."

"Yeah, I heard." Glancing at him he shrugged. "Sasha's a gossip."

I nodded, picking at my fingers. "Right, shoulda known."

"I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but… I'm proud of you for standing up to her." He bumped me with his shoulder. "Wish I coulda been there to see it."

Without even meaning to, the words slipped out, “I thought you went home.”

Jake’s eyes stayed glued to mine as he answered, “I did.”

My eyes filled with tears again, ones I quickly blinked away as I lifted myself to kiss him. The cold air sent goosebumps rising on my arms, but as Jake cradled my face in his hands and kissed me back with equal passion and fervor, I’d never felt warmer.

*

"Anthony," she breathed out with a fresh smile as she entered the empty restaurant. "It's so good to see you again!"

He smiled at her and Olivia felt like the most important girl in the world. Anthony lounged in the chair and replied with equal enthusiasm, "It's good to see you too, Olivia." Reaching out, he brushed her hair out of her face, eyes lighting up with that mirthful glow. “I love what you've done with your hair.”

“Thank you.” She settled in beside him and blushed. “I was surprised when Jen told me you wanted to have dinner together.”

“Why?” He questioned. “You’re a beautiful and fascinating woman, Olivia. Any man, myself included, would be blessed to be in your company.”

She blushed and shook her head, looking around the restaurant that she hated so much. “Why here?”

Anthony shrugged, taking a modest sip of his wine. “Because we can.”

"Did you need help with something?" She asked, changing the subject in an attempt to ground herself.

"As a matter of fact I do," he replied, carefully turning the book on the table towards her. "I need you to tell me everything you know about this woman."

Olivia's brows furrowed as she examined the drawing on the page. "Simone?"

Anthony nodded encouragingly. "An associate of mine has been in some contact with her, but he's having some… Difficulty. Jennifer assured me you would be able to help."

"Of course!" She cheered. "Anything for you!"

Tapping the page with his finger he grinned again. "Good. Now, tell me about this Simone."

They spent the whole night talking. It was mostly about Simone, but Olivia didn’t mind. As long as she could talk to him, to hear that amazingly soothing voice of his, she was perfectly happy. Food was served and, to her at least, a good time was had before Howard approached the table. His face was bruised and swollen and clearly unhappy as he moved to the side, gesturing with his hand to a painting on the wall behind him. “Does this satisfy your request?”

Anthony tilted his head, truly examining the piece before he smiled. “It does.”

Oliva’s eyes devoured the unique-looking thing, admiring the bright colors and the almost violence the art radiated. She was about to comment on his taste in art when she noticed the tiny scribbled name in the corner. 

Lena.

[chronothread]

Lend an Ear

“H-hey I…you know you don’t have to…”

I knock another drink back. What was this…fourth? Fifth? Fuck if I know. I stop counting after the burning stops. And…I guess I stop counting after I stop being able to count. Probably why I never remember how many past five. How many of her were there already anyway…nope, still one. I think.

“Salem, I um…y-you know I’m happy to listen…” She’s timid, but she’s not short. Not that short anyway. Here she’s sitting by the bar with me - she hates bars, she hates crowds - with her emerald green puppy dog eyes and that snow white hair of hers. Stupid…soft looking hair. She doesn’t even try, she catches half the bar with her shy girl schtick and she doesn’t even know-

“Salem…you’ve had so many already. P-please…maybe it’s time to stop?”

I stare at her for that one. All…one of her. One moving. Hells if I knew if I was actually staring at her or not. “Are you telling me to stop? Shizuka, I’ll stop when I damn well feel like stopping. And I don’t feel like bloody stopping. Fuckinggg…no fucking ser, not one scripture thumping fucking moment! I’ll…I say when I’ve had enough. No one’s fucking ballsy enough to stop me in here-” I swing my arm out and  - oh shit I think I hit a barrel. Whatever. I swing my arm out and sure as hells no one stops me. Not even the barkeep. Not like I cause any real trouble ‘less someone gets up in my face about it. And they don’t. They’re fuckin’ terrified. They’re all fuckin…

Fuck.

She shrunk in her seat hearing me go on. Now I was scaring her. 

Tss. Stupid…puppy dog eyes. I hated scaring her.

I lowered my drink, before sliding it down the counter to the guy all the way at the end of the table. I think I know him…yeah we worked a few jobs together, he liked to do magic. I’ve gotten pretty good at telling nondescript blurs of shape and color apart over the winters.

“...sorry. ‘m sorry Snow. I’m just not feeling too good ‘s’all. Get a little uncouth when I’m drinking. And I guess I’m drinking when I’m feelin’ upset.” I sigh, flopping my chin onto the bar counter. She rests her cheek on it and watches me quietly, kindly. Always kindly with her. Sweet girl like her being here in a rough house like this. Dunno why she always hung around my sorry ass.

“Then…m-maybe you’d like to talk about it? I’m happy to listen.” She gives me a smile, and fuck me if I ain’t weak to that. From her? If she were devious, she could flash those lips at me any day and I’d probably jump off a dragon for her. What a stupid situation I got myself into.

I swap to Doman when I respond. Chances of someone speaking that in some shady ass dive bar (with really good fucking food though) had to be…like…trying to fit a dragon’s dick through the eye of a needle. “It’s Gale. Maybe not Gale just…argh!” I huff loudly, picking up the leg of…whatever meat I ordered up and tearing through a good chunk of it. “Caught ‘em reminiscing and shit again the other week, up in the mountains. Over Ventus and shit. And then some guys tried to kill us-”

“Kill you?!” “Relax Snow, took care of it. Not important.”

She doesn’t relax, but she does get me a glass of water. Fury bless her for caring so much. I knock that shit back too.

“Important bit is that they were up there and it got me thinking too and…I hate thinking ‘bout this shit. It gets me all tired, and it makes it hard to get up off the bed. It’s like I’m sinking and I’m drowning in something, it’s like someone’s thrust a talon through my chest and I’m trying to breathe - but it’s painful every time I try. But I gotta do it, and it isn’t killing me, so it never stops hurting it just-”

I cover my head with my hands. I think I messed my hair up. Whatever, I’m not Gale, I don’t give a shit.

Clearly she does though. She scoots closer, getting the stray strands straightened out. And she looks at me with those eyes of hers again. But this time they’re not puppy dog eyes they’re…fierce. Yeah, the shy girl gets fierce sometimes. And it’s a fucking spectacle, you’d better believe it. So she gets in real close, brushes the hair out of my face, and looks me dead in the eyes.

“Y-you keep holding it in, it hurts worse...” Yeah I scoff at that. Because that sounds like some dumbass, poetic shit that- “I’m serious. It hurts to let it out. To think about it. It’s like changing bandages for your wounds - it stings every time you unwrap them and expose everything to the air. It hurts, and you hate every moment of it, and some days you just…you wish you never took the bandage off. You ask yourself why it hasn’t healed yet.”

Now I’m the one giving her puppy dog eyes I think. Because…because she looks so sad when she says that. And I really hate it when she’s sad. Sweet girl like her only deserves to be happy. Look what you’ve done Salem, made a sweet girl sad.

“-but.” And she says that with confidence. With more confidence than the whole time she’s spent in this bar combined. “If you don’t take it off, the wound festers. And it gets worse the next time you open it up. And if you don’t change that bandage? You get sick. Then it really starts killing you inside. Until you’re so sick that you can’t help yourself, and someone else has to come along and fix you.”

Fuck me. She had to be a spiritual guru type girl or something stupid like that too. Argh! I hate it when she makes sense.

“You’re not a burden, Salem. But you will be if you don’t ease off every now and then. So…you know…p-please? I don’t want t-to see you all…”

Fuck me, she’s tearing up. I hate it when she tears up. 

I take her in my arms and hold her close to my chest. She's soft, she's sweet. Now she’s crying for my sorry ass. I don’t know why she puts up with me.

“Hey…” Eorzean again. Not like it mattered at this point. Not like anyone would bother us anyway. “C’mon. Stop crying you…you’re gonna make old one-eye over there cry with both his eyes. I’m fine, okay? I mean…I’m not fine, but I’ll be fine so...chin up Snow, please?”

She’s sniffling, but at least she’s not hyperventilating. She looks up at me and she smiles. Stupid, stunning smile of hers. Really, I don’t know how she hasn’t gotten a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend or…a whatever friend yet. Only she could make crying look cute.

“J-just…promise me you’ll talk to me when you’re feeling down, okay?”

“I don’t know Shizuka I…”

Puppy dog eyes. This time I KNOW that’s on purpose.

“Alright, alright! I’ll come to you on the days I’m taking the piss. Now come on, you fucking hate bars, lets get out of this place.”

I leave my payment on the counter - looks like I could count again - and I stand up with her next to me. She’s stuck to me like glue but…eh, what do I care? She gets a pass from me, and it was hard to get a pass from me. You had to really crack at it from me not to crack your ass over your head.

She doesn’t even try.

Dunno why she always hangs around my sorry ass.

[icybreaths]

❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜

|| Starters || @baiika ||

“Hah, y’think I look pretty?”

It had to have been a joke.

The Eleventh’s body staggered in place, a bloodied mess bathed head to toe. Her right hand was clasped over her left shoulder in an attempt to numb the deep three pronged slashes that tore down into her torso. She had been able to handle every injury up until that last blow.

Bastard had pinned her down but a blast of Hyousoku got it off of her.

The warmth and raw burn of Jewel’s wounds had her face pinched somewhere between joy and pain. She knew she could handle more; her body was catching up that was all!

A dry growl rumbled her throat as she stepped forward.

The weight on the yawned gash in her calve sent her to her knees. Jewel palmed it reflexively to numb it too.

She adjusted to sit on her ass for the time being; ‘Look pretty,’ as it were. She slicked her sweaty, blooded hair out of her face.

Scanning over the battlefield, she could see another Hollow creeping in on Momo while her focus was on charring the beast that initially did damage to her. Smelled like a barbecue over in her corner.

Straightening her back against the nearest structure, Jewel positioned her zanpakuto, stabbed its edge into the ground, and aimed at her next target.

She flared her reiatsu and got its glowing eyes on her.

Poor critter looked desperate, starving. Maybe Jewel could understand that kind of feeling, adjacent to her own craving of violence, or freedom. There was a twisted sense of hope buried in there that one’s desire would be satiated and a sense of calm could be achieved.

She stared at its rapidly growing maw as it charged her.

Perpetually unsatisfied, the two of us.

When it got within her range, she shot an ice cluster at it and obliterated it on impact.

Sloppy chunks of gore flew every which way, but little touched her.

Her head slumped back with a lazed grin.

Now you don’t have ta worry about feelin’ at all.

[pureblisscleanings-blog]

Housekeeping Hacks: Transform Your Dade City Home in Less Time

Keeping your Dade City home clean and organized doesn’t have to be a time-consuming chore. With a few strategic housekeeping hacks, you can streamline your cleaning routine, keep clutter under control, and free up more time to enjoy the things you love. Whether you live in a cozy bungalow or a spacious ranch, these tips will help you maintain a tidy home with minimal effort.

1. Create a Cleaning Schedule

One of the best ways to stay on top of housekeeping is to break tasks down into manageable chunks. Instead of cleaning the entire house in one day, try assigning specific tasks to each day of the week. For example:

Monday: Dust and wipe surfaces.

Tuesday: Vacuum and sweep floors.

Wednesday: Clean the bathrooms.

Thursday: Organize clutter-prone areas.

Friday: Laundry and changing bedding. This way, you can keep your home consistently clean without feeling overwhelmed.

2. Declutter as You Go

Dade City's charming homes can easily become cluttered if you don’t have a system for controlling it. Get into the habit of decluttering a little bit each day. As you move from one room to another, grab items that are out of place and put them back where they belong. You can also keep a basket in each room for quick cleanups. At the end of the day, spend just 5-10 minutes emptying these baskets and putting things away.

3. Make Your Bed Every Morning

A neatly made bed can instantly make your bedroom feel more put together. This simple task takes only a few minutes but can dramatically improve the look of the room. Plus, it sets the tone for a productive day ahead.

4. Use Multipurpose Cleaners

Save time and money by using multipurpose cleaning products that can tackle various surfaces in your home. Instead of switching between different sprays and solutions for different areas, a good all-purpose cleaner can handle everything from countertops to bathroom tiles. Additionally, use microfiber cloths, which are not only reusable but also more effective at trapping dust and dirt.

5. Tackle High-Traffic Areas First

Some parts of your home will naturally get messier than others. Focus on keeping high-traffic areas, such as the kitchen, living room, and entryway, clean on a daily basis. By doing quick touch-ups in these spots, you’ll prevent dirt and clutter from accumulating, giving your home a clean and organized feel even when you haven’t had time to deep clean the entire space.

6. Use the “Two-Minute Rule”

If a task will take two minutes or less, do it right away. This applies to things like wiping down kitchen counters, hanging up clothes, or putting away dishes. Small tasks that are done immediately prevent clutter and messes from building up over time, saving you from a bigger cleaning job later on.

7. Laundry Simplified

Laundry can easily pile up if not kept in check. To prevent this, adopt the "one load a day" rule. Start a load in the morning and fold or hang it in the evening. This keeps laundry from becoming overwhelming and helps ensure you always have fresh clothes on hand.

8. Use Storage Bins and Baskets

Storage bins and baskets are your best friends when it comes to maintaining order in your home. Use them to corral toys, books, or miscellaneous items in each room. Label them for easy identification, and make it a family habit to return things to their bins after use.

9. Focus on the Little Things

You don’t need to deep clean your entire house to make it look tidy. Simply focusing on small tasks like wiping down kitchen appliances, fluffing pillows, or straightening up the entryway can have a significant impact. These quick fixes instantly refresh the look of your home.

10. Involve the Family

Housekeeping shouldn’t be a solo mission. Get the whole family involved by assigning age-appropriate tasks to everyone in the household. Even young children can help with simple chores like tidying their toys or sorting laundry. When everyone pitches in, maintaining a clean home becomes much easier and faster.

Conclusion

Transforming your Dade City home into a clean and organized haven doesn’t have to take up all your time. By incorporating these simple housekeeping hacks into your routine, you can enjoy a tidy living space with minimal effort. The key is consistency, so don’t feel pressured to do everything at once. Little by little, you’ll find that these small changes add up to a more manageable and pleasant home.

Happy cleaning!

housekeeping dade city

abliss@pureblisscleaning.com

Call: - +1 813 838 2810

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

Goretober Day 2: Vomit

Content Warnings: Eating disorder, vomiting

Fandom: Gravity Falls (yes, again)

The sky is dark outside. The clock in the kitchen reads 12:42. There's a thunderstorm outside. It's quiet and peaceful and overall, wonderful. Everyone in the Mystery Shack is sleeping. Mabel is in her bed. Stan is... well, he's off doing something. Ford is likely not asleep, but is also cooped up in the basement and probably doing experiments.

Dipper isn't asleep.

He's in the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. He looks... tired. Worn out. Like a wreck.

He's thinner than he used to be. His head is swimming. It's vaguely hard to breathe and he's not sure how much of that is how much sleep he's gotten this week and how much is how much he's eaten this week.

Dinner was a few hours ago. Stan had made stew and sworn up and down it wasn't from the dinner. Mabel had pulled some cookies out of her sweater and shared with Dipper.

He feels sick. He had too much to eat. He shouldn't have taken that extra cookie she offered. He should have taken less food.

He knows it's not true. He had less than half a bowl of food, even when Stan furrowed his brow and said Dipper should take more. He knows Mabel offered him another cookie because she was worried. He hasn't eaten hardly anything. Even what he has eaten isn't enough to keep him going.

Really, he's eaten too much today. He hates doing this, but he can't help it. It's just what happens when he eats too much. Simply the way things work. Eat too much, suffer the consequences. Ignore that the definition of "too much" gets stricter and stricter each day. Ignore the nagging feeling in his gut that knows this is wrong, this is messed up, this is bad and unhealthy.

Dipper walks over to the toilet, stumbling a little and falling to his knees on the bathmat. He holds his breath, hoping his fall didn't wake anyone. There's a long, awkward silence where he's too scared to move or look around or do anything. Then it passes, the door doesn't open, and he breathes out a gentle sigh, straightening up. He pulls his hair back with one hand. It's getting a little long and unruly. Despite his dreams of one day maybe having a mullet, he wonders idly if he should ask Mabel to cut it. She's always been the one to cut his hair before, and she'd probably do it.

Okay. That's enough stalling.

He leans over the toilet, still fiddling with his hair, and then takes a deep breath. One hand holds his hair and the other lets go. He takes two fingers and shoves them into his throat.

One.

Two.

Three.

He pukes.

It's rough and harsh and it burns on it's way up. The icing from the cookies tints the vomit a horrible pink color. The chunks of meat and vegetable from the stew are everywhere, brown and pink and half-digested. Everything tastes sour and acidic and, even as he heaves again, he's feeling around in his pockets for a piece of chocolate to wash away the taste.

Now that he's started to puke, he finds it hard to stop. Physically. Every time he thinks it's over, he chokes on air and heaves again. Another watery chunk of stew or half-eaten bite of cookie comes up. And then he starts to heave acid. There's nothing left in his stomach except for his own stomach acid. It feels like it's roiling angrily, mad at him for taking away what little food he ever gives it. Breathing suddenly gets hard. His chest tightens and he lets go of his hair to pull at his shirt, gasping for air. He chokes.

Finally, he's able to refocus. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. He feels like absolute garbage but he's able to breathe and that has to be fine. Dipper unwraps the chocolate in his pocket and melts it on his tongue. He doesn't swallow it. It's only there to get rid of the putrid taste, after all. As soon as the taste is gone, he spits it out and pulls himself to his feet. He nearly blacks out but manages to force himself to stay awake. Carefully, nervously, he flushes the toilet and stumbles over to the sink, rinsing out his mouth of leftover chocolate.

[link-sans-specs]

Link Sans Specs: Archive

Mythical Society 🐍♾️🐍

The same beautiful ocean blues free of specs, but hidden behind a paywall. Exception: All posts related to GMM episodes (Bonus Rounds, BTS Photos, BTM) have been included in the GMM archives.

Secret Loft Meetings

Bonk (Mar 2020)

Blood Oath Page (Jan 2022)

Blood Oath Page (Mar 2022)

AMAs

Scuba Dad (Jun 2022)

Carpool Vlogs/Car Biscuits

Untitled (Apr 2020)

Rhett & Link Go To the Beach (Jun 2020)

R & L Get a New Perspective! (Nov 2020)

The Best Chicken Rhett's Ever Had (Mar 2021)

Discovering the IG Explore Page (Oct 2021)

Saying Hi To a Stranger (Jan 2022)

How Being a Pet Owner Humbles Us (Jun 2022)

Loudly Talking at Physical Therapy (Jul 2022)

Meeting Fans at a Drive-Thru (Sep 2022)

Stretching on Dog Walks (Mar 2023)

Painting Link's White Overalls (Apr 2023)

Acting Like Ourselves Off Camera (Jun 2023)

Why Is Your Car On Dynamic Mode? (Nov 2023)

Buying Art Magazines (Feb 2024)

Quarterly Livestreams

RandL Rave 1 + 2 + 3 (Aug 2020)

Hide & Seek (Nov 2020)

MS Anniversary Extravaganza (Feb 2021)

Holiday Meal (Nov 2021)

GMM 10th Anniversary (Feb 2022)

RandL Makeover 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 (Jun 2022)

The Great Board Game Competition (Nov 2023)

Rhett & Link React

The Surrogate Sharers (July 2021)

Buddy System Season 1 Finale (Aug 2021)

Clown Shark (Oct 2021)

It's My Belly Button (Jun 2022)

Rhett Showers at Link's House (Feb 2023)

Sensory Deprivation Tank (Sep 2023)

Never Before Seen

(May-Jun 2022)

Rhett's Real World Audition 1 + 2 (Sep 2023)

Broken P elvis Song (Sep 2023)

The Bible Tells Me So Show (Sep 2023)

Exclusive Extras

Merle Haggard Vinyl Cover (Sep 2019)

Merle Haggard Vinyl BTM (Sep 2019)

Buies Creek Doc Extras 1 + 2 (Dec 2019)

Rhett Turns Into a Werewolf (May 2020)

Did Link Really Shave His Head? (May 2020)

Rough Cut of Unaired GMM (Feb 2021)

Lionel Vinyl Mini Doc 1 + 2 (Apr 2021)

You Are Video (Jun 2021)

What am I Spanking? Banned GMM (July 2021)

RONSTADT Listening Party (July 2021)

Hazel BTM (Oct 2021)

Golden Tee Virtual Taste Test (Jan 2022)

Brooks & Dunn Vinyl Cover (Apr 2022)

Brooks & Dunn BTM 1 + 2 (Apr 2022)

Boot Scootin' Boogie Video 1 + 2 (Apr 2022)

Banned GMM + GMMore (Jun 2022)

Neon Moon Video (Jun 2022)

Couples Therapy w/ CCR (Jul 2022)

Society Showdown Ep. 1 (Aug 2022)

Nostalgia GMM BTS 1 + 2 (Feb 2024)

Mythical Cookbook Photoshoot (Mar 2024)

LTAT + Extras (Mar 2024)

[marchtothefuckingsea]

Not Even Yet - John Wick

(A sort of a prelude to We're Even that goes over the backstory in the summary, but this doesn't need to be read to understand it or vice versa.)

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Injury, blood, canon typical violence, not proofread at all straight from docs to tumblr

enemies to 'lovers/friends' sort of, both ways hurt/comfort, x gender neutral reader, x assassin reader

Summary: Reader is in an unpayable amount of debt to the company they work for, and they're given two options: pay it back, or kill the infamous John Wick. This is not going to work out too well.

I sat outside the house of the infamous assassin, John Wick, as I had for the past week now, studying his habits.

I had gotten myself into a really, really bad situation this time around, and there was no getting out of it. No avoiding the consequences of my carelessness anymore. I had screwed up big time, and it would most likely cost me my life; but I had to try.

I packed up my things, making up my mind. My time was running out and I couldn't put off the inevitable for much longer. I would do it tonight.

I had cost the company I worked for precious information, and soiled any chances we had at recovering it. They had to send others in to clean up the mess and 'billed' me an insanely high sum as payback for the unnecessary cleanup.

Of course, I had nothing near the amount they asked of me to my name, and so they had given me another 'option' as opposed to paying them back. It wasn't much of a choice, really, and they knew that as well as I did.

I straightened, taking a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to do. I strapped my last knife into a strap on my shoulder before patting myself down, checking to make sure I had all my weapons on me before tucking a pistol into my waistband. I specialized in knives, stealth and hand-to-hand combat, so guns weren't really a part of my usual attire, but this was a life and death situation; A special occasion, if you will.

I hailed a cab a few blocks from my apartment. The driver complained loudly how my destination was across the city and how he had to get home to his girlfriend, but immediately shut up when he saw the wad of cash I tossed over the seat at him.

My destination was a corner a couple blocks away from John Wicks house. I walked the short distance, preferring to keep to my typical stealth approach. With anyone else, I probably could have went in guns ablazing if I really wanted to, although that would be a stupid approach nonetheless. I was skilled, but he was far more skilled and most likely stronger. I was agile and decently strong, but I worked mostly with the element of surprise.

I crouched down in the hiding spot I had been using the past couple of weeks, steadying my breaths as realization suddenly sunk in. I was really going to do this.

As I studied which rooms were lit and which were not, my mind went completely blank, all plans forgotten. I frantically dug through my memory, trying to recall some detail, anything, to jog my memory. I couldn't, so I waited.

I didn't have to wait very long, it turned out, as the front door soon opened, revealing a John Wick still clad in his suit. I watched curiously, this was out of the ordinary. He glanced around suspiciously before heading briskly down the alley.

This was my chance.

I waiting a moment before following behind him quietly, sticking to the shadows. It wasn't hard to do given what little lighting there was. The streetlights were more like spotlights, each one dimly illuminating a small portion of the walkway beneath it, leaving huge chunks of darkness between them.

I ducked into the shadows as he scanned his surroundings once in awhile. Bit by bit, I followed closer behind him. I suddenly realized I had no idea how I was going to do this. Did I just shoot him? Run up on him?

I did what came to me instinctively, crouching down and quietly moving up behind him. I was honestly surprised he hadn't sensed my presence yet, though he did seem a little more on guard than usual.

I crept up behind him, my knife out and poised to strike. Quite literally inches away from him now, I stabbed at him in a single swift movement. He ducked out of the way, making my knife miss its mark and sending me stumbling forward before he grabbed my arm and twisted it painfully. My dagger clattered to the ground, the sound of metal on asphalt echoing all around the deserted buildings.I clenched my teeth, wrenching against his grip.

Finding my attempts useless, I suddenly shoved myself backwards into him, sending us both crashing to the ground. He grunted, his hold on me loosening. I scrambled away from him, reaching for another of my knives. My hands shook with adrenaline and fear.

I shoved myself onto my feet, bracing my stance to face off with him again as he, too, got to his feet. He glared at me, murder in his eyes. I noticed he had the knife I had dropped in his hand now. We stood still like that for a moment, enemies calculating the other.

I made the first move, lunging forward and ducking beneath his swing. I landed a swift punch to his gut before I darted away. I attempted to ready myself again; most people I had fought would withdraw as well, taking the time to figure out what my next move would be.

But not the boogeyman. He didn't give me time to recover, lunging at me with the knife outstretched in his hand. I cried out when I felt the all too familiar pain of a knife entering my side, stumbling back.

He didn't allow me to get very far, however, his arm looped around my shoulders, preventing me from backing away. He yanked the blade out of my side before driving it back in. I gasped out in agony, my legs buckling. He dropped me to the ground and I scrambled away, pressing my back against the brick and shaking. He pulled the gun out of his waistband and I squeezed my eyes shut when he pressed the cool barrel against my forehead.

"Consider yourself lucky, I'm feeling merciful." He spat out, straightening up and walking away briskly. I lay there panting, pressing a hand to the profusely bleeding wound in my stomach. From what I could tell, the knife hadn't punctured anything vital, but the bleeding didn't stop.

I tenderly shrugged out of my jacket, wincing. I tied it tightly around my waist, choking out a cry of pain. I left the knife in the other wound. I didn't have much choice if I didn't want to die from blood loss.

I stumbled weakly to my feet, the flow of blood quickening ever so slightly at the movement. I panted as I staggered down the alley, almost considering going back to his house and trying to finish what I had started. I knew the company I worked for wasn't going to be happy about this - I was as good as dead at this point.

I swore under my breath when I felt the knife shift in my side, half tempted to pull it out. I leaned heavily against the wall as I shifted my jacket around my waist, trying to hide my injuries so I could hail a cab without causing too much suspicion. Not that half the cab drivers in this city probably haven't seen a worse sight than me at the moment.

I gasped for breath, soon sliding down the side of the building before my legs could inevitably give out on me completely. I shut my eyes and shivered, growing tired and cold. I groaned.

My head lolled to the side as I listened faintly for the sound of a car driving by, my eyes briefly fluttering open to see if it was a cab or not. When I finally caught sight of one, I staggered to my feet, reaching my arm out as far as I could to get their attention.

As they pulled to the curb, I stumbled over, having to rest against the door for a moment. The driver drummed her fingers on the wheel impatiently.

I glanced back to his house, realizing he was leaning casually against the doorframe, watching me. I wondered how long he had been keeping an eye on me to make sure I would leave. I didn't like the idea.

I finally broke the stare, pulling the door open with great effort and all but collapsing into the back seat. I mumbled out my address to her, tossing the rest of the cash I had on me across the seat before she could start complaining about the distance. I faded in and out of consciousness in the back seat, a hand resting protectively over my abdomen.

I startled awake, a voice loudly complaining at me.

"Okay. okay." I mumbled. I staggered out of the vehicle not even half awake. I hadn't even bothered to give her an address blocks away from my apartment. I wasn't sure if I had the energy to walk much further.

I hazily stuffed the key in the lock, twisting it until I heard the familiar click. I stumbled inside, heading directly to the bathroom where I kept my first aid kit.

I pulled it out of the drawer clumsily. It opened and dumped half of the things out on the floor.

"Fuck." I muttered. I settled for sliding down to the floor, slumping against the wall and gathering what I needed for fixing myself up. I piled them beside me before cutting my ruined shirt around the knife, pulling it off and letting out a hiss of pain.

I pressed a wad of gauze firmly to the first wound as I pulled out a bottle of alcohol. I hissed again when the familiar burn of it hit me, dots beginning to swim in my vision.

I pulled out a needle and thread, wondering how the hell I was going to do this. I swore every time I missed the needle as I tried to thread it. When I finally had it threaded, I moved my trembling hands down to my stomach and made the first stitch. My hands were shaking horribly, making each stitch hurt much more than it should have. My work was sloppy and far from adequate, but it would keep me from bleeding to death for now.

I hoped.

As I finished knotting the end of the thread, my sight now black at the edges and barely able to see, I cut the thread with a pair of scissors.

I was barely able to thread the needle again for my next wound, it took me several tries and a lot of cursing.

Once I did though, I had to brace myself for what I had to do next. I panted shallowly, my hand resting on the hilt of my own knife that had gone through me. I suddenly placed both hands on it, my breathing growing heavier has I wrenched the knife out. I let out a low whine of pain, my vision filled with white hot agony. I weakly threw the knife to the side, the sound of the blade hitting the tile ringing through my ears more than it should have. I slumped to the side, everything suddenly becoming black.

I groaned weakly, lifting my head up in pained confusion. The tile beneath my face had become warm long ago, and I rolled onto my back. I suddenly felt a warm wetness on the floor, realizing I had been laying in a growing pool of my own blood. I startled up in a panic, my hands slipping in the blood.

I grunted, shoving myself into a sitting position. I suddenly recognized the knife on the floor a bit away, remembering what had happened.

"Fuck." I breathed out. "Fuck fuck fuck. I'm lucky I'm not dead." I ignored John's words that echoed in my head at that thought. Why had he spared me? I was fairly skilled, I believe, so he didn't let me go because I wasn't a threat. I had tried to kill him and, to his knowledge at least, for no reason. Why was I still alive?

A wave of dizziness pushed all thoughts out of my head. I decided to focus on making the most of his mercy and try to make it through the night without bleeding out on my floor.

The wound had somewhat clotted while I was unconscious, and so, not having the energy to do much else at this point anyway, I wadded up some gauze and wrapped it around my stomach with another strand. I sighed, slumping back against the wall and closing my eyes.

The days following were quite uneventful, since the company had given me two weeks to either pay them back or kill the world's deadliest assassin. I still had four days to live.

It was taking me a while to heal up from my injuries and I had been trying to take it easy, resting up for the inevitable. I had planned to run by the end of the week, be out of here before they could send someone after me if things somehow went wrong. What I didn't plan for, however, was to be this badly injured.

I had spent the past three days since the incident worrying over who would show up on my doorstep first, once the realization of my stupidity with the cab hit me the morning after. I had never pulled a stunt like that before, no matter how badly I had been hurt. I had also spent my time trying to find another way out of my current situation. I had come up with nothing, and my time was running out much too fast for my liking.

I startled from my spot leaning over the countertop when I heard a knock at the door. No. Not a knock. More like a frantic pounding. A million scenarios burst into flames in my head, panic making my breath quicken.

I did my best to shove it down, carefully tucking a small knife up my sleeve. I crossed the room and shakily inserted a larger knife into my waistband. I took a deep breath, trying to hide my trembling and reminding myself that it could be anybody.

I mean, it could be the non-existent visitor that stopped by every Thursday right?

I stood at the door, jumping slightly when the pounding continued insistently. I tenderly placed my hand on the doorknob, taking another deep breath before I twisted it and tentatively pulled it open.

My eyes widened in alarm at the sight in front of me, but before I could slam the door shut again, he pushed his foot in the door before. A very bloody John Wick stood in my apartment. I stumbled back.

He held his arm tenderly to his side, indicating he was injured. My hand flew down to the dagger at my hip, the same time his did to his gun.

"Don't." He growled through gritted teeth. "You owe me one."

I just stood in shock and confusion, my hand dropping away from my knife.

"I've been shot. The bullet went through, another winged my arm." He listed off his injuries, his posture guarded still.

I obediently went to retrieve my first aid kit, wondering why I was doing this. Did I even have a choice though?

I returned to find him sprawled out on my sofa, his eyes closed and breathing labored. I hesitantly sat beside him, fumbling with the first aid kit as he loosened his tie and stripped his dress shirt off.

I took the nearly empty bottle of alcohol and a rag.

"This'll hurt like hell." I warned him softly.

"I know." He said flatly. "Just do it."

I poured the alcohol onto his wound, placing the rag under it. He hissed slightly, his body tensing up. I tenderly dabbed the cloth to the wound before sterilizing the needle over a lighter and threading it with shaky hands. Despite the situation, fear still tugged at my logical senses.

I punctured his skin, making the first stitch neatly. before continuing with another, and another. My eyes darted to his face occasionally, checking for any signs of pain or anger. Anything, really. But I found nothing, his eyes were closed most of the time and when they were open, and he met my cautious gaze, they were cold and guarded.

I finished up before silently moving onto the wound on his arm, this one not nearly as bad. I simply dabbed alcohol to it and applied an antibiotic, before wrapping gauze around it firmly. It had pretty much stopped bleeding.

I pulled away, carefully tucking everything away into the small box. I clenched my teeth at the pain that jolted through me when I stood up, though I didn't dare to make it known. I walked briskly to the bathroom, returning the medkit to its place in my cabinet.

"Thanks." He grunted out as I entered the room. I said nothing, not quite sure what to do now. I stood in the corner awkwardly, my hand unconsciously coming up to my side to shield my wounds.

I saw his eyes flutter open slightly before he opened them, squinting.

"Why?" He asked me, a man of few words. I knew exactly what he was talking about. I thought about lying to way out of it, but I didn't even know where to begin weaving a lie.

"I- I'm in some pretty bad debt to my company right now." I muttered quietly.

"Sit." He said."This is your place. I didn't mean to intrude." I caught a hint of humor in his voice.

I laughed dryly. "Yeah." I mumbled, making my way across the room and sitting on the sofa opposite to him. I was still slightly on guard, but I relaxed gratefully into the seat all the same, my body aching horribly.

"So what's this debt for?" He asked. Not prying, more so trying to get a conversation going. Like he was trying to get me to open up.

I hesitated. "It's complicated, but I fucked up basically. Big time."

"So let me guess," He started. "They gave you an ultimatum. Pay your debt, or kill me."

"Yep, that's about it."

"And you didn't have the money to pay them, so you took the latter option."

"Which was a horrible idea." I admitted. Silence followed for a moment before I continued.

"I'm sorry." I apologized quietly. He had straightened up in the seat, his head now raised and looking more alert. He looked now more like the John Wick that had almost killed me in the alley three days ago, I felt a shiver run up my spine.

"You did what you had to do. There's plenty of guys out there that want me dead." He said.

"No, really though. I didn't really have a choice, believe me I didn't want to do it." I insisted softly.

"I know. Why do you think I came to you?" He said simply. "Are you always that reckless about coming home?" He asked, a teasing tone to his voice now.

"No." I huffed a small laugh, but didn't go into detail.

"Sorry for stabbing you." I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I can only be so sorry, you tried to kill me." He defended himself.

"I know, I know..So we're even then?"

"We're even." He agreed. "But I'll kill you if you make another attempt on my life." His voice was teasing, but I couldn't shake the slightly serious undertone it had. He knew I wouldn't try, but it was a warning nonetheless.

I also know he wouldn't kill me without reason now, either.

A comfortable silence settled over us before I caught myself dozing off, my head lolling to the side tiredly. The amount of blood I had lost was still taking its toll on me. I sighed, cracking my eyes open. I had assumed John had fallen asleep too, seeing how fresh his injuries were. but he had not. He was watching me through his own tired eyes.

"You okay?" He asked me, slight concern marred his voice.

"Still recovering." I muttered out an excuse. "I should be asking you that anyways."

"I'm good." He reassured me, stretching out a bit. "You, on the other hand, look like shit."

"Thanks." I sighed, slumping back into my seat and allowing my eyes to shut. A wave of exhaustion had hit me. It surprised me how comfortable, how safe I felt with him around, even though I had been afraid he had shown up to kill me not even two hours before. I felt safer than I had in days, actually.

I caught myself before I fell asleep again, tiredly forcing my head up and straightening my back.

"Are you staying?" I mumbled out tiredly. "Because if you are, I have to warn you there's these guys from my company that could honestly break in any day now, I don't really know-"

"What?" He asked sharply.

I flinched instinctively, instantly locking myself away and wondering why and how I had gotten so friendly with him.

"I just thought you probably don't want to get involved in that."

"What do they want with you?" He pried.

I sighed tiredly. "I told you." I insisted. "They want money. Or you, dead but obviously that's not happening now." I muttered the last part under my breath.

"And why's that?" He asked, his voice teasing again.

"I just fixed you up, that's why. I don't wanna ruin my hard work." I waved a limp hand over at him. I saw a slight smile appear on his face for a second before he went serious again.

"And if neither of these things happens?"

"Then they kill me." I answered simply. "God, John, I thought you'd know the ins and outs of this sort of life by now-"

"Of course I do." He cut me off harshly before taking a deep breath. "When's your deadline?"

"Why are you so nosy all of a sudden?" I grumbled, running a hand through my hair and sighing. He was leaning forward in his seat now, his leg bouncing ever so slightly. He gave me a stern look and I caved reluctantly.

"It's supposed to be Sunday but it'll probably be earlier they're not really known for sticking to their deadlines." I answered, sighing. "I was going to pack up my shit and leave if, yknow, killing you didn't go to plan, but I didn't really plan on getting this fucked up." I continued at my own will. I was going to die anyway, I had come to accept that within the past few hours.

His gaze had wandered around the room before he stood abruptly, shrugging on his suit jacket. I felt a faint surge of panic at the prospect of him leaving, surprising myself. I should be happy he was leaving, I should have been tense and on edge this entire time. So why did I feel safer now, than I had in the past two weeks?

"Wait." I said, standing up. I stumbled slightly, gripping onto the wall for support. His arms extended slightly as if he was prepared to catch me if I took a dive.

"Stay here, if you want." I offered. It was selfish of me, I knew, to risk the chance of getting him involved in the problems I had brought onto myself, if he even would.

He looked me up and down, his calculating gaze reminding me who he was. I forced myself not to back down.

"I'm fine. I need to get back." He said curtly, turning away.

"We're even." He reminded me, shutting the door behind him.

I clicked the lock shut once his footsteps receded, leaning against the door.

"I would rather owe you."

[iamjungkooked]

Until My Last Breath

↳Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

↳Genre: Smut (mild), Romance, Angst

↳Word count: 13.4k

↳Warnings: swearing, mild oral sex (f receiving), way too much making out, grinding (sort of?), mention of death. More than all of this Jeongguk is just fucking delicious in this fic (that’s the biggest warning i can give you)

↳Rating: 18+ (Don’t read if you are underage)

↳AU: werewolf! Jungkook + human OC

↳Summary: Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect.

(Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾

Your hands hurt from holding the grocery bags. Mrs. Jeon did offer her help but you refused because she has so much to do. If anything Jimin should have accompanied you considering that he’s always going on about how he’d marry you if he could.

Alas, he wasn’t there either because being the beta of the pack meant he had to run morning training and education with the younger children since Jungkook wasn’t there. Generally this was something the alpha of the pack would do-- but Mr. Jeon was busy with the politics of the werewolf and human world. Had Jungkook been here he would have been running the session seeing as he is next in line to be alpha of the pack. But he was miles away on the other side of the country. He has been for five years and truth be told you can’t even remember what his face looks like anymore.

With thoughts such as that the only accompaniment, you march along with as much energy you can muster at each step. The house comes into view. Once again with no other company but your own to entertain yourself you take a drip down memory lane. You remember the awe you first felt when Mr. Jeon brought you to the house. Your father had just passed away while on a drug raid. Mr. Jeon being his best friend brought you with him.

In the early days, the entire family tried to hide their secret. But then on a full moon, you curiously followed Jungkook out and watched as he transformed from man into a beast. Initially, you wanted to scream with horror, but the air got stuck in your throat when he began approaching you. Rooted to the spot and with no escape, Jungkook-- rather his wolf form nuzzled his nose against your neck and whimpered. The fear was gone just like that. All night long, you accompanied him, roaming the forest behind the house getting into all sorts of trouble. When the effect of the full moon began to fade during the early hours of the morning you remember sneaking back into the house and rummaging through his room to get him clothes for when he transformed back.

You kick the giant black gate open and walk down the cemented pathway flanked on either side by lawns outlined with a variety of flowers. To your left was the gazebo that Mr. Jeon built when you were sixteen as a birthday present because that happened to be your obsession at the time.

As the foyer nears, you see a huge commotion outside. It seemed everyone and their mother was present. With urgency in your steps only worsened by curiosity, you reach in no time. You stand on your tiptoes to get a view of what was happening, however, the five grocery bags in your hands weigh you down.

Momentarily the crowd parts. You see the outline of a face that isn’t recognizable-- the hoodie covering half the profile.

“What is going on?” you gather the courage to speak loudly against the chatter of the crowd.

It is loud enough to get the talking to stop and everyone turns to you, including the mysterious stranger.

He pulls his hoodie down.

The grocery bags drop from your hands, just as your mouth hangs open.

“Jungkook is back!” one of the kids tugs at your arm in excitement.

Well shit. You never could have recognized him even if someone planted his younger version of right next to him. He is probably just shy of 6 feet tall. Although engulfed in a black crewneck, you could tell he was built. His dark wash ripped blue jeans contour his thighs to perfection and just when you think he couldn’t have changed further you notice his hair. He had gone off and gotten himself an undercut. His hair was on the longer side, and it was parted to the left of his head while the undercut was visible on the right. He had even gone so far as to get tattoos that adorned his fingers, and his forearm-- a music note. Well now you were fucked because how could you ever resist a man with that kind of hairstyle and tattoos.

Correction, how could you resist a fucking werewolf who wears an undercut and has tattoos?

“Y/n?” he speaks and you swear you could have heard angels speaking to you.

You keep mum. In fact, you can’t even hear him. You’re too busy undressing him with your eyes. Your heart pounds, your knees feel weak because this man is simply too gorgeous to exist. How the hell is everyone else standing on their two feet while you feel like you’re going to fall any moment?

You say something. You have no idea what exactly because your ears are ringing, but you know something comes out of your mouth which causes everyone around you to giggle. You might as well just turn around and go hide somewhere because you’ve probably made a fool of yourself.

“Huh” comes his deep voice, but it’s faint. His remark only makes you wonder what you spat out.

“It’s hot” you fan yourself with your hand. Your mouth is parched, dry like the desert. “You--  Wow. You look--nice to--- welcome. I mean, g-good— to” you look at him, and pause to collect your thoughts. “Good to have you back. I think...” you are completely breathless and dazed by the end of that word salad. Your forehead scrunches in a frown as you try to shake away the magic spell his presence has cast on you. You don’t even bother to wait for a response as you run back down the pathway you came. You follow it out of the gate and turn the corner. A few paces up the hill you come upon the gated entrance to the forest.

You hear someone calling you out, but you’re a damn mess. You aren’t willing to let anyone see you like that. You run as far into the forest as your legs will carry you-- far, far, away from him.

You can finally understand the phrase “avoid like the plague” because that’s what you have been doing to Jungkook. For the past four days since he has been back, you have done anything and everything you can to avoid him. If you see him in the house, you immediately make a u-turn for your room. If you see him outside, you hide behind anything you can find-- a pillar, a bush, a tree, a car, another fucking human being.

Of course it doesn’t help that everyone tries to keep pushing you to him. Well, mostly his parents. But also random people like the ladies in Mrs. Jeon’s book club who on Saturday made a spectacle out of you.

“Come on, pose for a photo” they had said when they saw you and Jungkook out and about the house. You weren’t even looking at one another when they swarmed you and him, taking you by the arm and making you stand next to one another. They didn’t even ask nicely-- no. They demanded that you and Jungkook take a photo because apparently you two look amazing together. Despite your protests, and vigorous head shaking-- they basically pushed you to him, and thankfully he managed to steady you on your feet by catching your waist.

His arm around your waist as he holds you flush against him and your hand on his forearm while you two looked at one another-- that’s the picture they took. You may as well have just gotten a whole fucking photoshoot done while you were at it.

“Y/n’s probably always had a crush on him” one of the ladies, Mrs. Ri had mentioned while all the others including Mrs Jeon crowded around to look at the picture on the camera.

A tomato couldn’t be more red than you and that's saying something. All Jungkook did in response was shrug at you like he was enjoying it. Normally a man might object to being treated this way. But he didn’t utter a single word. Only he looked quite amused by the whole situation and your reaction as he smiled and chuckled to himself.

On the other hand, his parents always mentioned in his absence that they would love if you and him got together. You never paid any mind to those conversations in particular because it was Jungkook— atleast how you remembered him before he became a fucking Adonis. Not that it’s the only thing that matters. But you just never felt this way before, and now you do.

You tiptoe through the house while everyone is busy at this time of day. Mrs.Jeon is probably with all the other ladies for their book club, Mr.Jeon no doubt is in his study and Jimin is probably with Jungkook, training.

It sucks to be the only human sometimes because they can always hear you, and know what you’re thinking. But you can’t do the same. It makes you feel vulnerable. But everyone is good at reminding you about how lucky you are to be human.

You traipse through the living room, peeking behind from walls here and there to make sure Jungkook isn’t around because if you see him you’re sure you’ll lose your shit. Again.

There is a certain chunk of the wooden floor that creaks under pressure so you take care to avoid it. Because in case Jungkook is anywhere inside the house he’ll hear it.

Creak

“Fuck” you mutter, shutting your eyes tight and carefully lifting your toes from the damned spot which makes another sound.

You hear footsteps on the stairs behind you. Too scared to move, you straighten up.

“I was wondering when I’ll see you again” comes Jungkook’s voice.

“Heeeyyy” you turn around, plastering a smile on your face and it screams fake.

“Four days huh. Good job” Jungkook looks impressed as he comes down to ahalt at the last step . “How did you manage to avoid me for four whole days? I am curious”

“You knew”

“Of course I knew” he’s mouth moves as he chews gum, one brow raised at you, looking absolutely devilish (in the best way possible). “Too bad the streak has come to end” he places his hands in pockets lining his black sweats.

Well fuck. No point in denying it anymore then.

“If it wasn’t for this stupid floor I could have gone the whole week. Probably” you decide to give in instead of pretending you have no idea what he’s talking about.

He steps towards you, one corner of his mouth curved up in a sly smirk. “That would never happen. You’d have made a mistake at some point before that”

“Maybe” you shrug. You’re so surprised that you’re able to find your words this time. “Welcome back by the way” you offer a genuine smile, trying to make up for that botched attempt when he first arrived.

“Thanks. It’s good to be back” he sighs contentedly. “I missed this place and the people.” he looks around and then his gaze comes to rest on you. “Well, one person in particular” he looks you straight in the eyes.

“Your mom” you reply. He loves his mother.

“Yes. But also someone else”

“Who?” curiosity gets the best of you.

“Just someone” he shrugs.

You’re about to respond when Jimin comes in. “What are you two doing here?” he looks at Jungkook as he stops next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

Wordlessly, Jungkook’s eyes change color from his hazel brown to icy blue. He steps towards you and Jimin, and then pulls Jimin’s hand away from your shoulder. He looks at the boy, jaw grinding as he chews gum. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” his voice is calm, but his eyes are absolutely terrifying since they harbour a cold, mean look. They change back to brown in an instant once Jimin nods. You notice how tense Jimin looks but he walks with Jungkook anyway.  

They’re probably only gone for thirty seconds. But when they come back their body language is completely relaxed. They look like two pals reunited after years.

“Everything okay?” you ask Jimin.

“Yeah. All good” he nods. “I was just congratulating him”

“What for?” you look between the two of them, feeling awfully suspicious.

Jimin is about to open his mouth when he catches Jungkook’s gaze. Jungkook shakes his head and you notice, at which point you turn to him. “Fine. I don’t want to know” you huff. You start towards the back door which leads to the backyard where Mrs. Jeon is with her friends.

Just a couple steps in, you’re tugged back. You turn around to find Jungkook holding onto your wrist. There is something about the way he looks at you. You’ve seen this look before in movies—it’s the way the hero looks at the heroine when he thinks she isn’t looking. It’s soft, but it’s wanting-- a complete contrast from the way he glared the life out of Jimin just minutes ago. He looks like he’s got something to say, but he’s holding back.

“What is it?” your voice is quiet, like you’re too scared to speak out. As if your voice will give away the crazy whirlwind of emotions in your chest.

“Nothing” he blinks and lets go of your wrist. “See ya around” he turns on his heels and walks the other way as Jimin follows him.

The woods at this time of the night are majestic. Moonlight bathes the tops of trees in a silver glow. The moonlight filters through gaps in tree branches, and covers the ground in a white sheen. It looks nothing short of magical.There is a slight chill in the wind, but it’s nothing you aren’t used to. The fallen leaves crunch under your feet. Sounds of crickets chirping, owls hooting fills the air.

You walk through the pathway bordered on each side by large trees the branches of which meet in the middle above you, forming an archway. You feel safe in the womb of nature like you’re protected and nothing could touch you. Without fear, it’s easier for you to take in everything. The air you breathe feels fresh, and crisp. If you could, you would make time stop so you could stay in the woods at night and never have to leave.

As each step carries you further into the woods, you feel more and more at peace. The trees become more lush the further you go. The animals are more noticeable deep into the forest. You see squirrels running around the trees, there are bird nests high up in the branches. You can hear mockingjays in these parts of the forest too.

You stop by the clearing in the woods. This side of the woods is your favorite. You sit against the trunk of one of the trees, resting your head. You look at nothing in particular in the sky. It’s clear above you, with a full moon shining. Your mind immediately goes back to Jungkook as you gaze upon it. You feel tortured every time your thoughts turn to him. You don’t know if it’s normal for you to want to cry, but you’re already shedding tears. Your quiet sobs accompany the sounds of nature. The weight seems to be lifting off your shoulders, and it feels easier to breathe. But then you think of him and that someone he mentioned. It causes you to sob even harder. You hiccup, using the back of your hands to wipe away the tears.

“What’s wrong?”

You can’t forget that voice. You look up at Jungkook as he stands with his hands in his jean pockets.

You shake your head. “Nothing. I just-- I miss--” you begin to cry again. “I-I miss my dad” another sob escapes your throat.

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks in a soft voice, which makes you want to cry even harder. “Please”

You nod.

He comes over, sits down next to you and gathers you in his arms. He pulls you into himself, wrapping your arm around his side, as he holds you. You place your cheek against his chest as you hold him close. It may have started because of him, but it continues because you do miss your dad. The moment you said “dad” was when you knew you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

“I am sorry y/n” he strokes the back of your head. “I really am” he sniffles.

You pull back to find tears staining his cheeks. “Why are you crying?” you look up at him.

His gaze is locked onto yours. “Because, I can feel what you feel”

“Sorry. I forgot you’re a werewolf” you shift back on your spot, forcing his arm to fall from your shoulder.

He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it. He looks at you a few seconds longer. “Yeah. That’s it” he says, blinking and a lone tear escapes. Your fingers twitch at your side, needing to wipe it away. But it might be too weird so you let your fingers curl into a fist.

“Thank you for doing this” your mouth curves in a soft smile. “How did you find me here?”

“I’ve seen you in the woods for the past four nights. I didn’t know who it was at first because I only saw a flash of your hair, or your shoes. But today I followed you and it’s good I did because pretty girls like you shouldn’t be crying alone”

You snort. “Right. Pretty girls like me”

He raises a brow. “You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you. I just don’t believe your words”

“Then tell me what I can do to make you believe me” he states. You’re sure he isn’t serious but one look at him tells you he means every single word.

“Jungkook, it’s alright. You don’t have to do anything” you shake your head. But then it strikes you. “Although there is something…”

“Anything” the corners of his mouth upturned in a soft smile-- one that made your heart skip a beat (or ten maybe).

“I want to see your wolf form” you look at him tentatively, wondering if he’ll turn you down, or maybe even shout at you for making a request. Asking a werewolf to show their wolf is a sacred request and not something that should be asked lightly. You know how important their wolf form is to them. It’s like talking about sex among humans, but much more of a touchy subject.

“That’s it?” his eyebrows are furrowed together at the miniscule nature of your request.

“So you’ll show me? Can you do it on your own will?” your hands clasp in front of your chest in anticipation.

A laugh bellows from his chest. “Of course. I’ll show you” he stands up, dusts his hands, and the back of his jeans. “You may want to close your eyes because I need my clothes for later”

Without needing to be told in exact terms, you close your eyes and cover them with your hands for good measure. You can hear sounds of feet shuffling, a belt unbuckling and soft thuds—probably his clothes dropping ctx dagainst the soil.

“I’ll count to five and then open. One, Two, Three, Four, Five”

You give it a few more seconds just in case before you’re uncovering your eyes. Standing in front of you is a majestic white wolf, with icy blue eyes-- Jungkook’s eyes. Your mouth falls open, your mind unable to come up with words. You cautiously step towards him, hand reaching out wanting to touch him. He meets you halfway, nuzzling his nose against your hand. You laugh.

“You’re beautiful Jungkook” you whisper as you stroke the fur, which is softer than velvet against your hand.

The wolf whimpers in response.

“What can you do as a wolf? Any tricks?” you ask, forgetting that he’s not a dog.

He growls, baring his teeth.

You throw your hands up. “Geez. Sorry. I was just curious” you reach for his muzzle as you continue stroking gently to help him calm down.

He steps back, turns around and starts further into the forest.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

He whimpers and motions beyond the clearing with his head. You start to follow, when you remember his clothes and grab them. He’s already a few paces ahead of you. It seems that even his wolf isn’t patient.

“Slow down will you?” you yell as you run to try and catch up. He doesn’t listen though as he continues on.

You’re breathless by the time you reach a beautiful meadow full of wildflowers and fallen timber. Flowing right next to the meadow is a stream littered with little stones and large rocks alike. Moonlight shines through the cracks between tree branches above you. The air is cooler than you have ever experienced in this part of the woods. The grass is lush and soft beneath your feet unlike the rest of the forest which is mostly soil. You don’t know how you never came upon this place on your walks. But then again Jungkook probably knows the forest best.

He is stopped at the edge of the stream. You drop the pile of his clothes on a log, and walk towards the stream. You crouch and place your hand in the running stream. The icy cold water sends shivers down your body. You flick some of the water on him, at which point he growls at you again.

“This is fun” you chuckle as you get up.

He whimpers as he tackles you to the ground, and nuzzles his nose in your neck.

“It tickles, it tickles, it tickles” you laugh as you try to push him away. You doubt you could have pushed him away in his human form but as a wolf it’s impossible. You rub your hand against his fur. He mewls and falls on his back next to you and you rub his underbelly. He loves it as he continues to make these cute noises and all you want to do is hug him.

A twig snaps somewhere in the distance. Jungkook jumps up to his feet, growling, teeth showing as he paces in front of you looking in the direction of the sound. He continues to snarl and growl, pacing increasing in speed. He looks ready to kill. You abandon your perch on the grass in favor of standing up. You tread towards him. At this point you’re more scared of what he’s doing rather than where the sound came from. You reach him, stopping by his side. You look at him— at those blue eyes of his, and take a step forward but he’s quick to nudge you back with his head.

“It’s alright” you reassure him as you caress the top of his head.

You try once more to step beyond where he’s standing but he gives another push and you tumble back slightly. He snarls at you as he looks back at you over his shoulder, warning you to stay in your place. He turns back to inspect the woods, pacing from side to side.

“Alright. Fine” you give up. “But please don’t do anything. It could just an animal like a squirrel or something”

Ears perked up, he stands towering in front of you.

“I don’t think it was anything” you stay in your spot, as you place your hand on his flank.

He holds up his nose, moving his head in every direction like he’s trying to smell something out. He starts stepping back, his rump hitting you as he does. He turns around, leaning his muzzle against your shoulder, like he’s trying to comfort you and find comfort in you.

“It’s okay” you whisper, skimming his fur. “We’re fine” you wrap your arm around his neck.

He lets out a small cry as he snuggles into you.

“I brought your clothes by the way” you let go of him and he steps back. “I think it’s best if we go home. It’s already 1”

He steps back a few paces and disappears behind a tree while you turn around and wait for him.

“Give me a sign whenever you’re done” you call out. You wait and wait for what seems like ten minutes but is really only a minute or two.

He clears his throat. “I am good.” he says.

You turn around to face him. You really missed seeing his face-- in the human form. He was majestic in his wolf form, but there is something about the human side of him that you can’t get over. In all honesty, he’s a sight to behold.  

“So, what did you think?” he rubs his hands together in anticipation.

“You’re amazing” you meet him halfway. “I’ve seen almost everyone’s wolf form. But yours is breathtaking”

He chuckles. “Thank you. I am sure he’s happy to hear it too” he closes the distance. He reaches for your hand, curling his fingers around your palm. It’s the warmest feeling you have ever felt.

You open your mouth to protest but he’s already cutting you off.

“I am not letting go, until we’re out of these woods.” he tugs on your hand as he turns around and begins towards the house.

“Thank you. It is sweet of you to protect me”

“It’s my job to protect you. I will always be there when you need me” he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

It’s nice to know that you have someone in your corner. “I wish I could say the same. But you don’t need me to protect you”

He nods. “You’re right. But if I ever need a hug, I know who to come to”

Little does he know that you are ready to give him the whole wide world. “Anytime”

Your eyes lock for a few seconds and both of you burst into grins.

Walking in the forest by yourself is always peaceful. But walking in these woods hand in hand with Jungkook is euphoric.

A pang of dread fills your chest when Jungkook ignores you.

Just when you thought things were going good, he distanced himself. You don’t know what went wrong in the days following the night in the woods. But he was avoiding you. It wouldn’t have felt so bad were it not for the fact that the way he ignored you was cold. It wasn’t like you where it was more benign in nature and it was clear that you were avoiding him for fear of embarrassing yourself. He knew that too. But with him it’s something else

He wouldn’t even look at you. A frown seemed to have permanently settled on his face. He was never present anymore. He was always lost in thought with an inscrutable look in his eyes. If you showed up where he was, he’d leave wordlessly. If you tried to talk to him he’d act like he couldn’t even hear you and that would be followed by his departure. And when he did look at you-- the only way to interpret the expression in his eyes was: resentment. You had no idea why he was doing that.

So as the whole family, including Jimin was sitting in the backyard under the canopy for breakfast, Jungkook made to leave just as you were approaching to join them. But his mother made him sit back down.

“Jungkook, you’re not going to leave” her tone is stern.

He rolls his eyes with a huff as he sits back down.

“What’s wrong with you dude?” Jimin leans in, thinking he’s whispering but his voice is a tad bit louder than that.

Even you can hear him just as you are a few steps away.

“Nothing” his voice is devoid of emotion. He leans back in his chair, sliding down against the back like he just wants to disappear. He fiddles with his fingers.

“Hi everyone” you offer a tight lipped smile. Everyone except for Jungkook replies. “Hi Jungkook” you say after not being met with a response.

He stays silent, holding the same sulked posture as before, not even acknowledging your presence.

You catch Jimin’s eyes. He gestures with his head to Jungkook as if to ask ‘what’s up’. You shrug because you have no clue what has gotten into him. You take the empty chair next to Jungkook and you can see him shifting in his chair uncomfortably. Your heart sinks in your chest, but you dismiss it. You look over at Jimin sitting on the opposite side of the table. He looks between you and Jungkook and you just know he’s thinking something. You both look at each other-- a silent conversation ensuing.

“Oh no. I forgot the cutlery” Mrs. Jeon jumps suddenly. She gets up when you interrupt.

“It’s okay. I can grab it” you gesture for her to sit down. “Do you want that special set?” you smile at her.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together like this. I think it’s time we use it. This is a special occasion. The box is in the attic. Will you be okay?”

“It’s okay. I got it”  you put her concern to rest with a grin.

You glance at Jungkook who still hasn’t moved an inch as he is still playing with his fingers and ignoring everyone around him. You make way inside the house, and up the stairs to the second floor. The entrance to the attic is on the second floor. You turn right on the landing, moving towards your room and at the end of the hallway. You pull the rope which unfolds the ladder. It comes down, you climb it and reach the musty room.

It’s full of boxes. You rummage through them to find the one labeled cutlery. The box is quite heavy, but you manage to climb down with it safely. You push the ladder back up, and the door closes blending in with the rest of the ceiling. You carry the box down the first two flights of stairs, slightly shaking because of how heavy it is.

You lose your footing at the beginning of the third set of stairs and down you go five stairs. The box slips from your hand. A scream rips through the air. You manage not to hit your head. But your ankle twists during the fall. You’re laying on your side attempting to get up when everyone rushes into the room.

Jungkook is the first one to arrive. “Are you okay?” he helps you sit up and you wince.

It hurts so damn much, you can’t stop yourself from crying. “I- I am” you grimace. “I am fine” you croak through a strained voice, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“No. You’re not” he cups your cheeks to make you look at him. He inspects your head for injuries. “You’re not fucking fine” he’s pissed as he’s practically at the verge of yelling. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he slides an arm under your back, and the other under your knee as he picks you up off the floor. You lock your hands behind his neck, keeping your gaze cast down. You don’t want to look at him in this condition.“I am taking her to her room” he announces, and no one even gets a word in because he’s already started up the flight of stairs.

You try to contain your cries, but the pain is too sharp especially at your ankle. You can sense him looking down at you.

“What were you trying to do?” he shakes his head. You should have called for help, you idiot”

“Sorry” you snivel still not meeting his eyes. “I was just trying to bring the box down and I lost my footing”

You reach the room, and he kicks the ajar door fully open. Once you’re in, he kicks it close. He gently lays you down on the bed, adjusting the pillow underneath your head.

You wince in pain, wiping away the tears. For the first time you look at him and he’s pacing, like he was in the woods except he’s in his human form. “Where does it hurt?” he sounds concerned but it’s that angry kind of way. There is no softness in his tone, if anything its gruff.

“You don’t have to worry. I am okay”

“Bullshit” he stops and sits at the edge of the bed, as he takes off your shoe and sock to look at your ankle. He touches the ankle bone, and you inhale a sharp breath. “See” he shakes his head like he’s disappointed. “That looks like it’s sprained. You could have asked--”

“You for help?” you complete his sentence, full well knowing that’s what he intended.

His eyes flicker to you, but he doesn’t say anything. He begins to gently feel around your ankle for any other injuries, brows furrowing in concentration.

You watch him, as he continues to look for other wounds,or gashes-- scanning your legs, arms, and face. You can’t understand the sudden shift in his behaviour. “What are you doing?”

He stops to look at you. “What do you mean? I am checking for any other injuries” he says in a blunt tone and resumes inspection.

“That’s not what I mean” you push his hands away from your forearms just as he’s looking over for more bruises. “Why do you suddenly give a shit? What do you care if I live or die”

He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again and shuts it, grinding his jaw. “I’ll grab ice” he ignores your question and gets up from the bed.

You tug him back by the hem of his sleeve. “I need an answer”

“I don’t have one” he yanks his arm, and the cloth slips from your fingers.

“This is what I am talking about” you bite the inside of your cheek just as he’s approaching the door “One minute you act like you give a crap about me, and the next you act like you wouldn’t blink an eye if I died”

He’s reaching for the doorknob when he turns around. His brown wide eyes stare back at you He scoffs. “I wouldn’t care if you died?” his disbelief reflects in his partly open mouth. Do you---” he covers his face with his hands, taking in deep breaths and letting his hands run through his locks before looking at you. “You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about” he turns around and reaches for the door when there is a knock.

He sighs in frustration. “Who the hell--” he opens the door.

Jimin stands on the other side of the door with an ice pack in his hand, and a bottle of what looks like medicine. Jimin peeks over Jungkook’s shoulder, about to say something. But Jungkook grabs the ice pack and medicine wordlessly and shuts the door in his face.

He walks back and presses the ice pack to your ankle, while holding the tiny bottle out for you.

“I don’t want it” you say sharply, looking to the side.

You hear him huff. “Do I look like I give a shit right now?” he seethes through clenched teeth.

You turn to him. “You know this whole tough guy act doesn’t scare me”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. If this were a cartoon he would have smoke coming out of his ears. “Just take it”

You study him, your gazes locked on each other. Neither of you even blink. His nostrils are still flaring and you’re still breathing heavily through pursed lips. “I hate you” you snatch the bottle from him and chug the bitter liquid down.

His expression changes for a moment-- the look in his eyes softens. He blinks, casting his gaze down momentarily. But then he’s back to carrying a frown on his face as he looks up at you. “You should. You shouldn’t like me at all” his tone gentler than before, hiding beneath it an infinity of disappointment that you catch.

“Well now I don’t. You damn well made sure of that” you grab the pillow next to you and hide your face behind it.

Seconds later you hear the door slam and that’s when you scream into the pillow.

Your ankle gets better in the next couple of weeks, but your relationship with Jungkook doesn’t. You’re still distant from each other. Still angry at each other. Your silent fight has tensed the atmosphere in the whole house. It’s awkward to say the least. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon skirt around you both, walking on eggshells whenever you are in a room together. Dinners are silent for the most part except for when his parents make conversation about their day.

You both ignore each other. Neither of you even looks in the direction of the other person. If you happen to pass each other in the house, you avoid each other.

Perhaps everyone has had enough-- especially Mrs. Jeon since she broaches the subject at dinner one night.

“Alright” she holds her fingers in a steeple. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

You and Jungkook glance at each other wary of how she’s speaking because she never swears-- not even use the word ‘hell’.

You both say at the same time. “Nothing”

“Bullshit” she slams her hands on the table.

“Honey” Mr. Jeon looks at her.

She dismisses it. “ No. We’re going to address this”

“Mom” Jungkook looks at her warningly. “Don’t”

“What happened?” she looks at you. “He won’t tell me” she glances at her son from the periphery of her vision. “But I know you will”

“Nothing. I promise” you offer a half hearted smile.

“I wasn’t expecting this from you y/n” she sounds disappointed.

“Mrs. Jeon. I swear to you it’s nothing. Even if there is something we can sort it out amongst ourselves”

“Well that’s just the problem isn’t it. You’re not. You don’t even look at each other”

You avert your gaze sideways.

“Just drop it will you?” Jungkook sounds frustrated. “We’re good” he doesn’t even look sincere in the least bit.

You nod finding purchase in your lap, barely making eye contact with anyone.

“Whatever it is, apologize” she demands. She looks to Jungkook, raising her brows at him expectantly. She waits for him to say something. He avoids looking at her but she is persistent. It’s only for a few seconds but he crumbles under the pressure and mumbles a “sorry”

“Look at her and say it” Mrs. Jeon says curtly.

He looks at you, eyes meeting yours for the first time in weeks.

Something changes in you and once again you feel like crying just because he’s there.

“Sorry” he looks away, folding his arms across his chest and chewing on his lip.

“Well you can tell him Mrs. Jeon that if he isn’t going to mean it, I don’t accept it” you glance at her and then back at your lap, leaning against the chair. 

“You can tell her that this is all she’s getting from me” he looks at his mother too.

“Tell him that he’s the one who started it. So, if he can’t even own up to it there really is no point in talking about it” your cheeks feel warm as you keep your gaze fixed firmly on your lap.

“While you’re at it mom, you can tell her that she shouldn’t be talking about things when she doesn’t know what’s going on” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

Your nostrils flare and so do his. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks red and eyes wide. “Maybe Mrs. Jeon you can remind him that he never actually told me what his problem is” you glare at him.

She looks between the two of you and your both lower your gaze.

Jungkook scoffs, returning an equally contemptuous glare towards you. “I don’t have a problem. It’s not my fault she doesn’t understand I don’t actually want to talk to her”

“Great! you throw your hands in the air and look at his parents. “You can tell him he’s the biggest asshole I have ever met in my entire life and I regret ever feeling anything for him” you slam your hands on the table and storm off.

The breeze is cool as it caresses your face. You sniffle away the tears as they well up in your eyes. The woods seem to be the only thing that can comfort you. You walk down your usual pathway, hugging yourself against the chill. As you look around at the moon bathed trees, they look different to you. But they don’t seem as beautiful to you as they did when you were with Jungkook.

The whole forest feels different.

You reach the clearing once more where he found you. You’re overcome with emotion, and your eyes tear up once again. You choke a sob away. You sit against the same tree, look at the same clear sky blanketed by stars. His voice echoes in your head when he asked if he could give you a hug.

You don’t know what happened to that boy. You don’t know where he went and if he will ever come back. You thought he was a friend. But it turns out he wasn’t. He’s just a stranger that you used to know.

You’re immersed in your thoughts. You look down at your hands, a bittersweet sigh passing your lips.

There is a rustle in the bushes near you and you’re immediately on alert. You slowly stand up trying not to make any sudden movements. You look in the direction of the sound and see two glowing brown eyes staring at you.

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t straighten up fully, for the fear of aggravating whatever animal it is, so you stay in a partly bent position, hands visible by your side.

The animal steps out from behind the shadows.

It’s a wolf-- a black one. It’s not Jimin because his fur is brown. It sure as hell isn’t Jungkook.

The wolf growls at you. It steps towards you like a predator towards prey.

Full blown panic sets in. You’re frozen on the spot. Your heart beats hard and fast, as if the sound rings in your ears. Is this how you die? Alone in the woods? Your whole life flashes in your mind. Among all of that the only name and face that echoes in your head is Jungkook’s  because you would hate to die and not have a chance to talk to him. That would be the biggest regret of your life.

The wolf is still approaching you, and it’s halfway there. It growls and snarls-- saliva dripping from its mouth.

“Oh please no” you whisper, as your knees begin to buckle.

The wolf takes a leap towards you. But at the end second, you see a white one knocking the black one out mid air. They both fly some distance and fall on the ground.

“Jungkook!” you scream running in his direction.

Those blue eyes look back at you as he gets up on all fours.He keeps growling at the other wolf.. You know better than to interfere, so you stay behind him. Both of them snarl at each other. The other wolf howls, probably to try and intimidate Jungkook. But then he howls-- it’s loud and fierce so much so that you have to close your ears. He then makes a sound that is a mix between a roar and a growl as he steps towards the wolf.

“Jungkook no” you hold your hand out for him but he’s just beyond your reach. He looks back at you. You shake your head. He turns to the other wolf and makes a sound that sounds like a threatening bark.

There is a moment where they both just look at each other. Then the other one whimpers and leaves-- tail between its legs quite literally.  

Your knees give out and you fall on the ground, sobbing and hugging yourself. Your cries fill the air. You sob hard enough to make your whole body shake. You have never felt such fear in your life and not just for yourself. You were more worried for Jungkook.

He comes running to you, fully clothed somehow. He immediately holds you in his arms. He holds you close, chin resting on the top of your head, as you bury your face in his chest, body shaking in his arms. You can’t even breathe  properly-- gasping for air with short shallow breaths.“Jungkook” you whimper, holding onto his shirt.

“I am here” he squeezes tighter. “I am right here. You’re safe”

“I-I” you pull back to look up at him, eyes swollen and red, tears still falling down your face in droves. “I thought you were going to...” you bawl again just at the thought of something happening to him. You hide your face against his chest, wrapping your arms against him so tight, you’re sure he’s having a hard time breathing.

“I am okay. I am not even hurt” he reassures you.

“I was so…” you hiccup. “Worried that--that s-some-something w-would happen to you” you manage to choke out the words.

“Look at me” he holds your face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I am completely okay. I was worried for you. I was scared. I was so so scared” he gazes into your eyes, and you know he’s speaking the truth because he’s beginning to cry too.

You sniffle, trying to control your sobs so you can tell him. “The only thing I could think of was you. I didn’t want to die without talking to you. I was afraid I would never get to talk to you”

“Me too” he croaks. “You didn’t get hurt anywhere did you?” there is panic in his eyes as he suddenly realizes that.

You shake your head. “No. You saved me”

“I told you I’d always protect you didn’t I?” he snivels.

Your lips just in a pout, lips quivering. “How did you know?” you slide your thumbs against his cheeks to wipe the tears.

“I came to the woods to cool off for a bit” he stops to rub the tears from your cheeks as the water works start again. “I was just so pissed, so naturally my wolf took over and I transformed. I was just roaming around, when I could smell you. I followed your scent. I saw the whole thing and trust me, my heart almost stopped. I was waiting for the right moment to intervene and when that wolf jumped at you, I lost it”

“I am sorry I said all those things” you clutch the material of his shirt tighter, looking down.

“No. I started this whole shit and if I hadn’t you wouldn’t have gotten into trouble. I could have lost you tonight and it would have been my fault. I could never forgive myself” he takes your hands in his, curling his fingers in yours. “I am so so sorry”

“So we’re good?” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh with you. “Look, if this night has proved anything, it’s that you shouldn’t like me. I told you. Don’t like me. I am not right for you. I am not even good for you. Look at where I landed you tonight” his fingers begin to slip from yours.

“You’re wrong” you hold tight onto his hands.

“I can’t y/n” he avoids your eyes, his shoulders droop. He looks absolutely defeated.

“What’s the reason?” you press on. “Is it someone else?”

“No” he’s quick to shut down that train of thoughts in your head. “There’s no one else. But I can’t. You hold too much power over me. That’s exactly why I can’t”

“I don’t get it. You do all these things for me that no one ever has. Your actions say one thing and your words another. What am I supposed to do Jungkook?”

“Don’t like me. Stay far far away from me” he pulls his hands away from yours. “I’ll take you home”

“Jungkook-”

“I am taking you home” he says firmly, as he lifts you off the ground in his arms.

You hook your hands behind his neck. You let your head rest against the crook of his neck. You let him take you home because you’re too tired to fight. You don’t want to fight with him because you know that you love this man. If the night taught you anything, it was that.

“Y/n we’re going to be leaving” Mrs. Jeon hurriedly comes into the kitchen, opening up cabinets and grabbing food.

“Leaving?” your brows furrowed. “Where?”

“Jungkook’s dad and I have to go to the orphanage in the city for an event. We’ll be back by tonight. But Jungkook is home if you need anything” she packs up a bag full of food, probably for the journey since the drive to the city is 2 hours.

“Wait, you’re both leaving? Jungkook and I are going to be alone…?” your voice trails at the end, having been met with a dreadful realization.

Mrs. Jeon’s nose scrunches as she walks over to you. “Is everything okay?”

You’re too busy worrying so you don’t even hear her.

Mrs. Jeon calls out your name a couple of times before she physically has to shake you. “Y/n, what’s going on?”

You blink rapidly. “Oh nothing. Everything is fine. I just thought he would go with you too”

“We asked him, but he said you’d be alone at home so he’ll stay too”

“He said that?” your eyes widen. You don’t understand his concern.

She nods. “Mmhmm. He also said he will stay just in case you need something while everyone is gone. I would ask you to come too but I didn’t want you to feel bad”

You shake your head. “It’s alright. I’d cry the whole time anyway thinking of my parents” you chuckle. “But you know I can take care of myself”

Mrs. Jeon chuckles. “I know that. But tell Jungkook that because this boy was adamant on not wanting to leave you alone. I don’t understand him” she shakes her head, like any mother aggrieved of her child would. You can’t blame her though. He is a unique specimen.

“Yeah me neither” you purse your lips in a smile.

“Alright. We’ll be off then” she gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “If he troubles you, call me right away”

“I will”

She makes haste of leaving, carrying the bag.

You spend a better part of the day hiding in your room, avoiding Jungkook. It’s the only place in the entire house where he won’t come. Not after everything that has happened between you. He’s honorable in that sense. Things have shifted between you once again. There’s no anger anymore. All of that has been replaced by awkwardness. Now if you see each other, you only nod at one another. Occasionally, you talk too. But it’s always surface level things. Nonetheless, it’s a step in the right direction.

At half past one though, your stomach starts to grumble and gradually all you can think about is food. It’s a relief in a way because it distracts you from him. You spend ten minutes trying to persuade your brain that you’re not actually hungry.

“I am not hungry” you chant it like a mantra hoping that at least for a while it will go away.

After agonizing and torturing yourself for half an hour, you give in.

“Fuck this” you grumble as your hunger gets the better of you. You drag yourself down to the kitchen. Unlike last time though you don’t tiptoe around the house.

You go into the kitchen, open the fridge to find two plates already filled with food. A note, no doubt from Mrs. Jeon is stuck into the cling film: don’t forget to eat.

You grab a plate for yourself, leaving the other one in the fridge for Jungkook. You’re about to shut the door, when you change your mind. This may serve as an excuse to talk to him. At the end of the day, you’re going to be living in the same house. So you figure you can’t go on avoiding him.

You grab the second plate, heat both of them in the microwave.

You head back upstairs, where the bedroom’s are. You turn left at the landing towards his room which is at the end of the hallway. You stop in front of the door, and seeing as your hands are full you settle for calling his name. “Jungkook, you in your room? I got food”

You wait, but there is no response.

“Jungkook” you call again.

No response. Finding yourself with no other choice left, you somehow manage to balance the plate on your forearm. With the free hand, you turn the handle.

You peek your head inside to find the room empty. Just as you’re about to leave your eyes catch something at his bedside table. You know you shouldn’t go inside, but you can’t help it. You leave one of the plate’s on his bedside table  because you can’t lug three things around. You grab it, meaning to ask him about it when you find him.

You close the door, and head back downstairs. You walk the whole of the first floor from the dining room, living room, kitchen, family room calling out his name. But he’s nowhere.

“Maybe he’s in the basement” you think to yourself as you head downstairs. You walk down the steps.

It’s dark save for the blue LED lights running along the ceiling. You walk in further turning the corner from where the pool table, and the arcade game machines are. You remember that before Jungkook left he had set up one half of the basement as his gaming room.

Sure enough as you near the room you hear sounds of gunshots, and rifles and some mild cursing which makes you chuckle.

You don’t bother knocking as you enter. The same blue LED lights adorn the room. You can see his black mop of hair against the couch.

“Are you hungry?” you say tentatively as you stop next to the couch.

He immediately stops playing, throwing his remote on the ground as he turns to you. He takes off his headphones. You notice his hair is tied up in a bun, which manages to make your heart skip a few beats.

“Oh hey” he says, straightening up. “You didn’t have to” he notices the plate in your hand.

“Your mom said you haven’t been eating” you hold the plate for him and he reaches for it.

“Thanks” he offers a pursed lip smile. He takes the plate and sets it aside on the side table. A few beats of silence pass. He taps his fingers against one another, something you notice he does when he’s nervous. His eyes stay fixed on his hands.

“Will you make me a promise?” you look at his profile.

He clears his throat. “Depends on what it is”

You roll your eyes, fully expecting that response. “Just say you will”

Your persistent gaze makes him shift uncomfortably in his spot. He sighs, looking ahead at nothing in particular, while thinking over your request. He turns to you. “Fine”

“Promise me if I ask you questions, you will answer. It can be anything”

“That doesn’t sound very fair” his lips quiver at the corners, a hint of smile making an appearance. “What if I don’t want to answer”

“Too bad” you narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t have a choice. So?” you raise your brows giving him an expectant look.

He considers your demand, looking back at his hands again. “Well looks like I don’t have a choice”

“Good. Because I am asking right now”

At this, he looks at you wide eyed.

“Now?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. Tell me why you won’t act on your feelings”

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “Don’t deny it. If you didn’t feel anything for me you wouldn’t have lost your shit the day I hurt my ankle and you sure as shit wouldn’t have risked your life for me” you remind him. “And you wouldn’t have put this next to your bed” you bring forward the picture of you and him Mrs.Jeon’s friends had taken-- the one where you’re both looking at each other as he holds you by the waist.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. He rubs his hands on his face, resting his elbows on his knees as he keeps his face covered. He pulls his hands away , crossing them together. He looks at you, trying to determine how he should begin. “You’re right. I do have feelings for you. I’ve been here before y/n and…” he pauses, swallowing thickly.

“And what?” you prod, placing the photo frame next to you.

“She was beautiful. You should have seen her. She was amazing, just beyond I could express. Everyone here loved her. We used to spend every day together. Her parents hated me for it” he lets out a chuckle, a nostalgic look in his eyes.

“What happened?”

“She-- she died”

Your mouth hangs open. “I am so so sorry. I had no idea. I am sorry. Just.. forget I asked. I don’t need to know” you feel guilty immediately.

“No. It’s alright. I’ve already started. There was a fire in the woods years ago and she died in that. Some humans were having a bonfire and they left the fire burning. It caught on and somehow she got stuck in the middle of it with no escape” he looks down at his hands yet again.

You shift closer to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders resting your head on against the crook of his neck. “I am really sorry”

“Thank you” he places a hand on your forearm, leaning his cheek on your head.

“If I had known, I never would have pressed you. I feel like an asshole” you mumble.

“You’re not an asshole” he replies.

“I get it now and I promise you I won’t ever ask you to consider your feelings for me again” you lift your head and place a kiss on his cheek.

His lips curve up in a grin immediately and he is quick to place a kiss on your cheek too. “You’re amazing” his gaze locks with yours.

“I know” you grin. “Can I ask you something else too... ?” you say tentatively.

He nods. “Anything”

“Did you… did you imprint on her?” you ask, noting just how close you’re sitting to him. You can smell his breath, and feel it on your face as he beholds you in the most loving look in his eyes.

A coughing fit ensues for Jungkook, and you unwrap your arms from his shoulder, in favour of gently patting his back. “Sorry. Bad question hey?”

“No” he dismisses with his hand. “It’s just I’ve never been asked that”

“Forget I asked” you shake your head.

“No. I promised. Not her. Only my human side loved her. To imprint on someone all of me, including my wolf has to feel something. That’s the only way werewolves can imprint and it would be a far stronger bond than what I had with her” he sighs. “I have imprinted on someone. Not her” he finally answers your question.

“Oh my god” your heart sinks. “I- I have no idea what to say” you shift away from him, feeling like you’ve violated some rule. As if you have made him cheat on someone with you.

“Y/n” he says as soon as he sees your body language tensing. “It’s not what you’re thinking”

“No” you shake your head. “I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am so fucking stupid” you get up abruptly and march off while he calls out for you.

As is customary every third Friday of the month, the children from the neighbourhood gather around the campfire. This time Jungkook is there so he’ll have to answer all their questions.

Everyone sits around in a circle, some on the logs and others on chairs. Jungkook and you sit on opposite sides of the fire, Your eyes are fixed on the embers burning away. He holds a stick as he’s poking at the coal to keep the fire going. Your eyes meet momentarily as you both look up, but you look away first, busying yourself with watching the fire burn away the wood once more. You can still however feel his gaze resting on your face. But you’re too resigned at this moment to feel anything but emptiness.

“Is everyone ready?” Jimin comes along, absolutely chirpy and the complete opposite of how you look and feel. That’s when you sense Jungkook looks away. Jimin settles into the empty spot on the log next to you. He passes around drinks to the group. He offers you one too, but you decline. “Hey” he nudges you.

“Hmm” you turn your attention to him.

“What’s going on with you? Everyone’s been asking me what’s up”

“Nothing’s up” you shrug. “I am absolutely okay”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But at least don’t lie” Jimin purses his lips in a smile.

“Sorry Jiminie. I am just not feeling great. I’ll be okay I promise” you note with a half assed smile.

“So who wants to go first and ask Jungkook questions” Jimin turns to the group once he’s assured by you. The group is made up of mostly older kids in their late teens. But there are some younger children mixed in the group.

A chorus of ‘me, me ,me, me’ starts up.

“How about we go one by one” Jimin suggests and the sea of hands in the air disappears.

“How was the city?” someone from your side asks. But you couldn’t be bothered to know who.

“It was good.” he sighs, poking the fire logs once again. “But it was dull compared to this place” his eyes flicker to you momentarily.

You catch him, if only for a second and then look at your hands as you fiddle with them.

“Did you find a human mate? I am sure you met very pretty girls” one of the girls asks. The question you piques your interest.

You remember she was the one who excitedly told you Jungkook was back.

He doesn’t respond immediately which only makes you think that he did meet someone there. Why wouldn’t he? She’s probably the one he’s imprinted on. You would leave were it not for Jimin who holds your wrist with a shake of his head as soon as he sees you’re about to get up.

“I did meet girls.” Jungkook says, looking at the little girl. “But they are nothing compared to someone else I know” he shifts his gaze to you once more. “She’s beautiful, but she doesn’t see it that way” he looks right at you, like he’s speaking to you, and you only. Time seems to stand still momentarily because he acts like no one else is around. “It’s a shame because she really is the most beautiful girl I have ever met” he holds your gaze, rendering you unable to look away.

You hear aww’s and squeals from all around you which pulls you away from the trance and blinkingly you avert your gaze.

“Does she know you like her?” someone else asks, this time a boy.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think she does. By the way, I thought this was about exchanging stories about our ancestry” he looks around at everyone.

“Yeah. We hear those every month. But this is much more exciting and romantic” one of the older girls probably in her late teens replies, and everyone agrees as they nod or offer a ‘yes’ in agreement. “Tell us more. What’s it like to imprint on someone?”

“Are you sure we should be talking about this? Aren’t they young?” Jungkook looks at Jimin.

“They won’t tell if you don’t. Right guys?” Jimin chuckles and everyone nods eagerly.

“Alright then” Jungkook continues.

At this point you really want to leave because you don’t want to hear about how she makes him happy, and how his whole life has changed because of her. But you stay because some part of you is still holding onto hope of you and him.

“It feels like gravity is shifting from underneath you. When you look at her, you can see everything clearly. It’s as if your past, present, and future come together all at once and everything makes sense. It’s as if you finally find the ‘why’ of your existence. You’ll be anything for her-- whatever she needs be that a protector, a friend, a lover. Anything… he trails.

“That’s so romantic” the girl squeals dreamily. “I want that too”

Jungkook laughs. “Any other burning questions?”

“When are you going to tell her?” another question comes which only furthers your resolve to leave. You get up, having had enough of it. The moment you stand, everyone turns to look at you. Without a word, you begin walking towards the house.

“Don’t you want to know who it is y/n?” Jungkook yells as you leave,  his words halting you in your steps. You feel everyone’s eyes darting back and forth between you and him.

You look over your shoulder. ‘I already told you”

“I think you’ll want to know,” he replies. You hear the crunch of the grass beneath his feet as he walks towards you. He gently places a hand on your elbow to turn you around. “Just let me tell you”

You glance up at the man. “I won’t be a--able to hear it” your voice cracks.

“I did imprint on someone—“

“Jungkook” you say warningly.

“Just listen to me” his grip on your elbow tightens, his jaw tightening.

“Jungkook please” you beg just as your eyes begin to water. You avert your gaze to the side. “Please. I cannot do this” you shake your head.

“I love her” he continues anyway despite your protests. You know he’s looking at you. But you can’t. You can hear the pain in his voice which makes everything so much more worse because that means he could never love anyone the way he loved her. “ She makes everything make sense and-”

“Just stop” you yank your elbow away from his hand and walk away.

You sit at the edge of the pier which juts out to the side from the boardwalk. just as the sun begins to set behind the mountains. The night market bustles in the distance. Crowds and crowds of people and come and go. Yet you feel calm, just watching the waves ripple beneath your feet. You dip them in the cold water, shivers running through your body. You splash the water, trying to pass your time.

You would have gone to the woods but given everything that has happened in that forest, you’re not too fond of it at the moment. This time Jungkook won’t be there to protect you. He’s out with his friends somewhere. You didn’t bother to ask where, not that it is any of your business.

From the periphery of your vision you can see a group of guys jumping down on the wooden planks of the pier.

You feel disappointed because you won’t have the space to yourself anymore.

They’re laughing, and being boys in general which makes you roll your eyes.

They pass by behind you, being as loud as ever. You ignore their incessant and annoyingly loud voices as you focus on the sun which is still in the process of setting. You close your eyes, the wind blowing softly against your face, and through your hair.

“Y/n?”

You instantly whip around to come face to face with none other than the man who had made a home out of your thoughts.

“Jungkook? You’re here?” You question, using your hands to push yourself up.

“Careful” his hands come out as if to hold you in case you fall.

“It’s okay” you tuck strands of hair behind your ears. “I am fine”

“I was just with my friends” he turns behind, and points to them while they stand a respectful distance away. They wave at you and hesitantly you wave back. “Why are you here?”

“I needed to get out of the house. The woods aren’t exactly my favorite place right now. So I thought why not come here” you shrug.

He nods, sliding his fingers in his jean pockets, rocking back and forth on his toes. “So…”

“So…” you fold your arms across your chest out of sheer self-consciousness.

“Do you maybe want to-” he starts.

“Hey Jungkook” a random girl throws her arms around his shoulders from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.

You look between the two of them.

This must be her. She’s pretty

“I thought we were gonna go eat” she pouts at him questioningly.

He doesn’t look at her as he speaks. Instead he locks eyes with you. He stares at you— wordlessly, like he’s lost in you. “Yeah” his reply is intended for her.

“Well introduce me, won’t you?” she looks at him and then at you.

“This is…” he’s still looking at you and you only.

“I am Alix” she extends a hand, much too cheerfully.

“Y/n” you can only manage to press your lips to feign a smile.

“Ohhh” her mouth opens in realization and she looks at him, like she’s impressed.

This time he looks at her and nods.

“Well y/n, do you want to come to dinner with us?” she offers kindly. But to your ears it’s anything but.

“No. I am alright. But thank you” you look at her. “See you at home Jungkook”

“Just come” he says just as you’re about to turn around to leave.

“I have to do some stuff at home” you say listlessly. “I’ll see you tonight” you reply with a ghost of a smile.

Yet again you turn away from him, not even waiting for his response.

You walk all the way back home, thankful that the way back is quiet, and not many people are around. You take the road from the pier that merges into the street that leads to your house up the hill.

You kick your feet beneath you, sighing heavily every so often. A fluttery feeling intensifies in your stomach the closer you get to home. Your chest feels heavy, a dull ache coming on. Your breathing quickens pace, not so much from the effort of walking up the hill but the mental exhaustion that you’ve faced in the past few weeks.

Love fucking sucks.

Your thoughts are occupied by Jungkook and Jungkook only. Every thought begins and ends with him and soon enough your head is full of memories you spent with him-- good and bad. It’s like a movie playing in your head-- beginning with the first time you saw him after he came back, and just a few minutes ago to Alix and her perfectly pretty face. How could he not love her?

By the end of it, you’re positively bawling your eyes out. Tears upon tears cascade down your face, with no indication of stopping anytime soon. You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, sniffling. Your legs become heavy with the weight of carrying you up the hill. Your head hurts, and you’re sure you’ll faint if you don’t sit down soon.

You quietly continue to sob, head hung low as you reach the gate. You push it open. Your feet drag beneath you, a heavy tread leaving marks of soil from the walk up on the cemented pathway. You open the door to the house, only to hit your head on something.

“Ow” you mumble, rubbing the spot that’s starting to ache. It only makes you sob more. “What the hell...” you lament under your breath, beginning to cry with the force of someone writhing in pain on all fours. You fall on your knees, everything inside you giving up. You cry the way a child does-- hiccuping, heaving to catch your breath only to have it be drowned by another wave of painful sobs.

“Just stop” Jungkook’s voice cracks, as he falls to his knees in front of you too. “Stop doing this to yourself” he croaks.

“I don’t know how to” you strain.

“I can make it all go away y/n” his cheeks are stained with tears too. He gathers you in his arms just like he’s done before. He kisses the top of your head. “Just let me make it go away. Please”

You break the embrace to look up at him through tear soaked eye lashes. “You can’t” your voice quivers.

“If you just…” he stops to take a deep breath, arms loosely wrapped around your back. He’s defeated into silence by your cries.

“It hurts” you clutch the material of his shirt., tucking your chin into your neck “It hurts so so much”

“It’s you”

You don’t even hear him, as you hide your face behind your hands, your body shaking due to your forceful sobs.

“It’s you.” he says again. “Listen to me. For once. Please” he’s begging you at this point.

You uncover your face to look at him. “What?”

“It’s been you all along”

“Wh…” your mouth remains open as you gawk at him. You hastily wipe your face with your hands as if that will somehow help you make sense of it.

“It’s you” he says in a whisper. “It’s you” he looks into your eyes this time--really looks as he says it for the third time almost like he’s saying it as a mantra. “I love you”

As if on cue, you stop crying because his words sink in. You don’t just hear them, you understand them. You begin connecting the dots. “Holy shit” you look at him daze. “I never even gave you a chance to speak” you bemoan that fact.

A bittersweet chuckle softly crosses his lips. “You didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have tortured yourself like this. Couldn’t you see it?” he searches your eyes for an answer that will make sense to him.

“How could I have? You’re you and I am me-- clumsy and stupid. You acted like there was someone else this whole time” you rub your eyes to dry the tears away.

“You never gave me a chance to tell you. I tried so many times. That night in the woods when I said I feel what you feel, you misunderstood that as being part of my abilities as a werewolf. But that’s not true. I feel every emotion you feel and I feel it ten times more than you because I imprinted on you .Then I tried to tell you during our conversation in game room and you walked away”

“Then why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you just act on it? You should have stopped me”

“You know why” a slight frown adorns his forehead.

You gulp hard, realizing the depth of what you just said. An apology is just at the tip of your tongue. “I know I said I wouldn’t ask you to consider my feelings ever again. But Jungkook, I can’t. Being around you overwhelms me. All I want to do is be around you, have you in my sights and when you’re not I feel disappointed and sad. I miss you every single second of the day when you’re not there. ”

“I have seen the entirety of us y/n-- everything that was, is and all that is to come ”

“I’ve imagined a whole future with you too”

He doesn’t respond.

Your stomach feels tight, your chest feels like something is pressing on it as his silence continues. Your gaze doesn’t leave him for even a second. You feel like you’re naked, as if the whole of you is on display, vulnerable to the point where even a single look will be enough to make or break you.

“I am just asking you to love me” your soft voice doesn’t dampen the gravity of your words.

He scoffs. “That’s just it though. I don’t just love you. I am bound by you. I am bound to you for the rest of my existence. That’s far scarier than love”

“I don’t know how to reply to that. All I know is I am in love with you exactly the way you’re in love with me” you shift closer to him, locking your fingers in his. “Because I can’t deny you any more than you can deny me”

He looks down and plays with your fingers. “That’s true. But I haven’t stopped thinking about the night you got attacked. What would have happened if I wasn’t there? What would I have done with myself if something happened to you?” his words reflecting the guilt he’s been feeling.

“Quit blaming yourself” you chide him. “Anything can happen to me, or to you at any given time. So stop worrying about that and keep your promise of protecting me. It’s not like you can switch this off”

“Not any more than I can stop breathing” he replies.

“Then love me. It’s simple. Jungkook, we either do this, or we don’t” it’s not that you are giving him an ultimatum, but it’s a fact.

“You know as much as I do, that even if in some ridiculous world I wanted to say no, I couldn’t. So you don’t have to worry about me not loving you. Because that just isn’t possible. Not only because I chose you but because that’s just how it is”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“I already told you I love you. You know that I do”

“And that’s supposed to be it?” you raise your brows at him.

His lip quivers into a lopsided smile, the solemn mood beginning to shift. “Tell me what you want”

“Just kiss--”

His lips on yours quiet down your thoughts to nothing. Shivers cascade down your body in waves. He invades each of your senses. The fluttering in your stomach grows intense. His lips feel soft against your own.

Jungkook keeps his eyes slightly open, taking a guilty peek at your face. He still couldn’t imagine if this was a figment of his imagination, or if the universe had gifted him this moment just at the right time. But he felt thankful for it beyond words could express. Every breath he took smelled like you— like water lilies.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.” he breathes heavily. He doesn’t even give you the chance to speak because he’s pressing his lips to yours once again— softly and gently. His hands run the sides of your body, the material of your shirt gathering together, exposing your skin.

He guides you up without breaking the kiss, pulling you in to erase every inch of space between your bodies. You can feel every contour of his body against your own. You hold him tight, trying to take in the feeling.

His hands slide under your thighs as he picks you up, you wrap your legs around his hips, as he takes you inside the house. He carries you as if you don’t weigh anything— through the house and up the stairs to his room.

“What” kiss. “About” kiss. “Your parents?”

“Not” kiss  “here” he mumbles between a kiss.

He kicks the door open and carries you in until your back hits a wall. He gently lets you down, till the tips of your toes are touching the floor. He breaks the kiss. “You know I won’t do anything you don’t want right?” his gaze, fixated on your eyes.

You nod, running your tongue over your lips and tasting him.”How could I not want this” you pull him by the nape of his neck, unable to bear even one second of distance. He happily obliges, melting into the kiss with a content sigh. It kind of feels like you’re drunk because there is a slight buzz and your mind feels hazy. You’re thoughtless at the moment, and your entire body is burning. Kissing him, touching him-- is all the intoxication you need to feel out of control. Neither your mind, nor your body is acting under your direction anymore

Your whole being is responding only to Jungkook. Every kiss, every soft touch, every caress, every stroke elicits a reaction from you.

“Tell me what you want, baby” he asks, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest. “Tell me exactly what you want” his mouth parts against the skin of your neck as he bites down gently.

You can’t help the moan that passes your lips and fades into the air. “You”

He inhales sharply at your words as if that is enough to turn him on. He lifts his head up to look at you “You wanted me to love you right?” he pushes your thighs out by burying his leg between yours. He pushes his thigh against you exactly where you’re aching for him.

“Oh my god….” your voice fails you.

“I’ve thought of you so many nights, for so long” he pushes in more and you grind your hips against his thigh.

“I want more” you can’t help but mumble. “Please”

A corner of his lip raises in a smirk. “Your wish is my command” . He swipes his thumb against your clothed clit. “Is this what you want baby?”

You nod, a whimper crossing your lips as the sound of your heavy breaths fills the air.

You continue to rock your hips against his thigh, while he continues to rub circles on your clit. “Does that feel good?” he asks, but before you can even respond he’s shoving his tongue down your mouth through your parted lips.

You moan into him. eyes shutting tight at the fluttery sensation between your legs. You clutch the fabric of his shirt, unable to hold yourself up longer as you clench around nothing in particular. You feel the adrenaline in every part of your body-- in the pounding of your heart, in your breathless noises, in the way your body grows warmer by the second.

You open your eyes to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. But he’s already looking at you. His pupils are dilated, irises beginning to change colour from his chocolate brown to blue while he continues to kiss you. His hand stops moving against your clit, and he removes his thigh from between your legs. At the loss of friction you feel like a starved animal, needing more, and more, and more. You didn’t think you could ever feel this way, but he was making you abandon all of your inhibitions and want whatever he could give you. You didn’t know if you would ever feel satisfied after what you started.

But Jungkook knows exactly how to pleasure you and then some more as he picks you up and leads you to his bed where he lays you down. He hovers over you, palms pressed into the mattress on either side of you. He gulps.”Are you sure?”

You only nod.

He shifts down, unbuttoning your jeans, and sliding them out from under your legs. He throws them on the floor. He parts your legs, resting his upper body between your legs. He doesn’t waste any time, as he licks a strip on your clothed clit.

“O-oh- oh my….” your fingers curl around his hair, and you push his mouth flush against your core.

He moans against your flesh, laying kitten licks against the sensitive skin. The friction tenses the knot in your stomach even more. Just when you think there’s nothing more he could do, you feel your insides being stretched as he pushes a finger into you. Your back arches at the sensation. He buries his finger knuckle deep,curling it and inside you and hitting that sweet spot. Broken moans and gasps cross your mouth, while your toes curl from all the pleasure.

Seconds tick by and turn into minutes which turns into hours and just like that the night flies by. You don’t know how many times you come undone under him, above him. You stopped counting after the second time because you weren’t even in a state where you could think about thinking anything.

You lay under the sheets facing each other--limbs entangled and noses almost touching. Every few seconds the tip of his nose touches yours as he moves in to kiss you, but then he stops.

“Stop being a tease” you pout at him.

He laughs, showing his pearly whites. His eyes crinkle at the corners just like they do when he’s happy. He leans in, to place a peck on your lips. Then he shifts his head up to kiss your forehead. Then gently, he places a tender kiss at the tip of your nose. He pulls your hand into his as he brings it to his lips, laying down gentle kisses on each knuckle.

“Who taught you how to be romantic?” you tease

“I’ve always been romantic” his gaze locks with yours, a gentle smile coming onto his lips.

“By the way what did you talk to Jimin about that day?” a sudden curiosity shifts the subject.

A look of realization crosses his face “Ah” he says. “I told him about you”

“So that’s why you were pissed” you chuckle.

“Pissed?” his brows crinkle together.

“You were jealous of course. You looked like you were going to kill him” a corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk.

“No. I wasn’t. That’s childish stuff. I just thought he should know that at that time you were kind of taken. Not really but you know…”

You tap his nose. “If you say so” You trace the outline of his face with your fingers. “Are you happy?” you whisper.

“More than I can tell you. Are you?” he licks his lips as his eyes flicker to yours.

“Mhmm” you nod. “Happiest I have ever been I think”

“Good” he kisses the back of your hand. “That’s all I want for you baby”

“I can’t believe you’re mine” you look into his eyes-- finding yourself falling in love all at once.

“You better believe it” his lips turn up at the corners into a grin. “I don’t know how much humans mean it when they say ‘forever’. But let me tell you us werewolves tend to take the stuff pretty seriously.”

You chuckle silently, huffing through your nose. “Your point being?”

“You better believe I am yours, because you’re forever y/n. Until my last breath”

THANK YOU IF YOU READ THIS! REBLOG, COMMENT, LIKE! 

[tennessoui]

hi all of your aus are amazing! pls what happens with divorced!obiwan and the twins?

hey!! sorry this took so long i had to think of an appropriate cliffhanger

this is a continuation of this ficlet and this ficlet, where divorced!obi-wan accidentally acquires a partner and a set of twins.

(2k WHOOPS)

The twins are not, and probably have never been described by anyone except their father, angels. They take to Obi-Wan as well as Obi-Wan takes to them, which is to say that all three of them watch each other suspiciously until one day Luke launches himself off the top of the fridge--how the fuck did he manage to get up there--and Obi-Wan drops his morning toast in a frantic bid to catch him.

After that, Leia and Luke apparently decide he is Another Anakin Who Is Just Around A Lot Less But Is Better At Reading Bedtime Stories and deign to treat him as such.

Obi-Wan decides that he’s going to have a heart attack by the age of fifty. Do all children see a childproof house as a challenge?

It somehow takes both a longer and shorter time to win over Anakin’s favor, mostly because Obi-Wan isn’t sure what the man’s thinking at any given moment. He seems to blow hot and cold depending on how he woke up or how the work day goes. Some days, Obi-Wan comes home from campus and Anakin and the twins have waited to eat until he’s there. Sometimes they’ve eaten and there’s a meal under foil on the stove just for Obi-Wan.

(“I don’t know how you do it,” Obi-Wan tells him one night after the children are put to bed. “I mean, work from home with your job, mind the children, and cook?”

“They made me head of the R&D department a few months ago,” Anakin admits, taking a sip of his second glass of wine. “So I’m doing a lot more checking through other people’s work instead of making my own. It just means I can do that and make something edible--no, really, you just can’t cook, Obi-Wan, I’m not the best either.”

“Do you miss getting to make something other than food?” Obi-Wan asks eventually, giving himself enough time to recover from the sound of the other’s giggles.

Anakin shrugs languidly. “It’s better salary, and I’m the youngest ever in the company to have the position. Means I’ll pay off my student loans quicker, same with my mom’s hospital bills. Doesn’t matter what I want.”

Obi-Wan’s chest hurts and he wants to lean across the gap between their chairs and place his hand on Anakin’s arm, but they don’t know each other like that. It’s only been a month and a half since they moved in. Still. “It always matters what you want,” he insists. “And I think you’re amazing.”

Anakin blushes bright scarlet and takes a huge gulp of wine, and Obi-Wan wonders if this is a throwing-yourself-off-the-fridge break through.)

(It’s not because the next day, Anakin doesn’t say a single word to him, which bothers him more than he’d like to admit.)

(“Am I in the wrong for wanting to get along with my housemate?” Obi-Wan asks Quinlan despairingly during their office hours that he should be using to grade papers. Instead all he can think about is Anakin Skywalker and the goddamn cold shoulder he’s been getting from the man for the past three days.

“Yeah,” Quin says absentmindedly, marking something with a red pen before looking up at Obi-Wan’s outraged intake of breath. “I mean, no. I mean, sorry, Obi, what are we even talking about now? Is it still your hot new roommate with the two kids? Because that’s what we were talking about an hour and a half ago.”

Obi-Wan crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “I’m just not sure I appreciate--”

“And you said he’s not been hanging around in the living room when you get home? But he’s still leaving you meals in the kitchen? And you’re upset about the free food?”

Obi-Wan is upset at the lack of Anakin’s presence, but he thinks that’s probably not the right thing to say here.

“Maybe he’s just tired?” Quinlan puts down his pen and rests his chin on one of his hands as he looks at Obi-Wan. “From the kids and the job and putting up with your moody ass. C’mon, Obi, what’s really getting you worked up?”

Obi-Wan purses his lips and stares at the desk in front of him, but he had come to Quinlan for help. He should at least be honest about what’s eating at him, even though he knows how silly it will sound when given a voice. “...Satine always waited up for me,” he mutters. “Until she didn’t.”

Quinlan’s quiet for a worryingly large amount of seconds, before he reaches out to pat Obi-Wan gently on the arm. “Oh, Obi,” he says pityingly. “Repeat after me. You cannot make your new roommate your rebound from your thirty year marriage.”

Obi-Wan scoffs. That’s not the problem at all. “That’s not the problem at all,” he says, not defensively in the slightest. “I think I’m just worried about the children not having enough structure in their lives.”

“Right,” Quinlan says, not quite managing to hide the skepticism in his voice. “Then you should talk to him. For the sake of the children.”

Obi-Wan will absolutely not be doing that, but it’s a nice thought.)

The real turning point in Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship happens five months after the Skywalkers move in.

Anakin and Obi-Wan are in the living room. Anakin is trying to braid Leia’s hair while Obi-Wan tries to pretend he isn’t watching. From the kitchen, there’s a very, very loud crash and the sound of something shattering.

Both adults leap up from their seats immediately and run to the other room.

Luke is standing in the epi-center of disaster, little face scrunched up like he doesn’t know whether or not to cry. At the sight of his dad and Obi-Wan, he starts to wail, moving forward and reaching for Anakin.

Obi-Wan, who is wearing shoes inside the house (a point of contention between himself and Anakin), grabs Luke roughly and picks him up by the armpits before he can cut his feet on the glass. He hands him over to Anakin to soothe, stepping further into the kitchen to find the dustpan he keeps in one of the pantries.

It’s very obvious what broke, though Obi-Wan can’t for the life of him understand how Luke got ahold of Satine’s heavy cake stand. He can definitely understand how Luke dropped it, as the thing was ridiculously heavy.

It had been one of the only things left in the house that had been Satine’s. She’d left it, and Obi-Wan had been too bitter or petty to point it out to her. Yes, it had been her mother’s. No, keeping it had not made him feel any better. But it’s not like Satine ever baked anything anyway.

Good for Luke, actually, for doing what Obi-Wan never could bring himself to do.

He grabs the broom and dustpan and marches back to the pieces of shattered glass. Anakin has placed Luke on the counter, ostensibly to check to make sure his feet are fine if the boy would ever let go of his father’s neck. Leia is peering around at the mess on the floor.

When Obi-Wan comes back and starts sweeping everything away, she darts forward to pick up a rather sizeable chunk.

“Don’t touch that,” Obi-Wan says sharply, much harsher than he intended. Leia drops it instantly and scurries back to her father, eyes wide and sort of watery. Oh, fuck.

“Hey,” Anakin snaps immediately. “She’s just trying to help and Luke didn’t mean to break--whatever that is.”

Obi-Wan holds up his hand to cut Anakin off. “I’m not mad,” he promises all three of the Skywalkers. And he’s not even lying. He’s really not mad, hasn’t even thought to be mad at this last piece of proof of his relationship with Satine shattering on his kitchen floor. “I just don’t want either of you to cut yourself. Glass like this can be very dangerous and none of you are wearing shoes.”

“Promise?” Luke asks, untucking his red face from Anakin’s neck so he can peer up at Obi-Wan.

“I’m sorry I was a bit rough,” Obi-Wan apologizes, coming over and bending down a bit so he’s on the same level as Luke. “I was just worried about you. Promise.”

Luke sniffles but lets go of Anakin to throw himself at Obi-Wan, apologizing all the way.

“Hush,” Obi-Wan says as Leia scrambles up his leg, vying for his attention. With his hands full of children that aren’t his, he raises his head to look at Anakin who’s watching them with a very strange expression on his face. He tilts his head toward the broom and then down to the kids in his arms. “Come along,” he tells them both. “Leia, I’ll finish your braids if you’d like.”

“Braid my hair too!” Luke demands with a pull on Obi-Wan’s shirt.

Luke’s hair is floppy but awfully short. “I’m sure we can figure something out,” Obi-Wan says generously, leaving the kitchen.

“I suppose I’ll just clean this up then?” Anakin calls sarcastically behind them.

“Thank you, darling,” Obi-Wan responds.

There’s the sound of something else breaking, but it’s not Obi-Wan’s problem at the moment.

(A year later, Anakin mentions something over morning coffee about looking for a new apartment, now that he’s got everything straightened out. “We’ll get out of your hair,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’ll look today since it’s my day off.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to examine why that idea makes something curl tightly in his stomach, making him feel vaguely nauseous, but it does. On his way out of the house, he unplugs the router, and then after a second of thought, takes it with him just in case.)

(Quinlan laughs his head off when Obi-Wan sheepishly puts the router down on the desk in front of him. “It’s a bad market right now,” Obi-Wan says defensively. “I’m just looking out for him.”

“Obi, I mean this in the best way possible, but there are at least four professors in the psych department that would probably love to do a case study on you.”)

(Two years after the Skywalkers move in, Obi-Wan is running late for a meeting with the head of his department. The man is stepping down, finally retiring, and Obi-Wan thinks that perhaps he’ll be tapped as the new head. It would mean dropping some of his classes, but it would be worth it.

“I made you a breakfast wrap,” Anakin greets him at the door, holding out a paper bag. “It’s got that salsa you like in it.”

The salsa Obi-Wan likes is the mild version of what Anakin and the kids eat, but Anakin treats it as if it’s from another planet entirely.

“Good luck!” he says with a sweet smile, also passing Obi-Wan a travel mug of what’s hopefully fully caffeinated tea. Obviously Obi-Wan needs it. He got perhaps two full hours of sleep last night, tossing and turning and thinking about this meeting and now he’s running late and his tie is crooked and none of his favorite sweater vests were clean.

“Thank you, dear one,” Obi-Wan mumbles, mind somewhere else. If traffic isn’t too bad, he could still be on time.

“Text me how it goes!” Anakin chirps, following Obi-Wan out the door to stand on the front porch with his arms crossed in an attempt to fight off the early winter chill.

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan replies, turning around to brush an absent-minded kiss to Anakin’s lips before hurrying to his car. It’s a twenty minute commute. If he gets his preferred parking spot and runs to the department building, he won’t be late at all.

Is that too much to hope for?

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, looking back in the rearview mirror to see Anakin standing frozen on the porch. That’s strange, usually the other man can’t stand being out in the cold.

Obi-Wan gets to the first stop-sign out of the neighborhood before he realizes what he’s done. It’s lucky that he’s already slowing down, because he slams on the brakes. Did he--

Did he kiss Anakin? Did he really kiss Anakin as if he does it all the time? As if they were in a relationship?

Oh shit.

Frantically, he pulls out his cellphone from his bag and checks to see if he has any new messages. He doesn’t.

Oh. Shit.

[huenjin]

shootout.

there’s nothing like a shootout that lets two partners bond the best.

pairing: bang chan x reader | detectives!au genre: action, romance word count: 5k words warnings: crime, blood, killings, language, implicit mention of sexual activity

part of the domestic disturbance series.

"Chan, look at this," you drag your fingers over the side of the muscle car, pointing out several holes, feeling the depression clearly. Your eyes slowly trail towards the fresh blood by the window and you gasp, "Bullet holes and blood."

The thin silence is broken by the scream that comes from inside the warehouse. Your eyes widen and Chan quickly whisper-yells at you, "Quick! Move!" You and Chan move towards the door after drawing your guns out. 

You press your ear closer to the door. Behind it, you can hear mumbling and clanking of metal. You mouth to Chan, "What the hell is going on in there?"

He places a finger over his lips and you nod. Chan crouches down and peeks through a crack in the door. You lean over and whisper, "What do you see?"

"Multiple people. Someone is lying down on his back in the middle of the room. The light is flickering and someone's standing over the man." He peeps further. "There's movement in the back too. Maybe one. No, there are two to three people behind."

Suddenly, in a flash, there's another howl of pain and you grip Chan's arms in surprise, moving closer to him. Chan turns to look at you, your face edging so close to him that he can see your eyes glistening and how sharp your nose is. He takes in a huge breath in surprise and closing his eyes, he informs you, "We're going in."

You stand back and Chan winds up, kicking in the door. Chan yells as he rushes forward, "Police! Freeze!" 

You look around at the makeshift operation room with a lot of medical equipment around. A shirtless man is lying on an operation table in the centre of the room and a man in a white doctor's coat who you presume to be Dr. Kim stands over him, prying a bullet wound from his shoulder. The two bulky men who stand behind have their guns aimed at you, narrowing their eyes. One of them has a scar over his face and the other over his neck, both fierce enough to scare you.

"What the hell is this? What the fuck is going on?" The doctor speaks up, looking at the two of you shifting his gaze from the patient to your guns.

"Put your guns down," the bulky man behind the doctor barks. "Now!"

The other bulky dude yells, "Do it!" You and Chan keep your guns pointed finely at the two said bodyguards behind.

The black build of the gun is heavy and it's awfully familiar. The walls are closing in on you and you take deep breaths in. It's the sound of the child screaming and bullets firing. Your pulse is rapid and hot against your skin. You feel the beads of sweat forming by your forehead.

Chan takes a step to your side, speaking, "Let's just take it easy. No one has to get hurt."

"I have a feeling that it won't be that easy, Detective," Dr. Kim informs Chan, his lips tugging to the right to form a smirk. "I'm afraid so."

Chan's shoulder bumps into yours and he looks at you for a second, nudging at you, "Are you alright? You don't look so well."

"I've been better," you smile nervously. The gun trembles in your hand and Chan looks at you, worried. He notices your shivers and your beads or perspiration by your forehead. He wants to protect you and he swears he'll do exactly that.

The shirtless man on the table moans and grunts, looking to the side to see you and Chan, before yelling, "You bastards. Do you know what my family," he groans, "will do to you?"

"Chan," you gasp, your grip on the gun getting harder. "That's Amanozako Susanoo. Ranking officer and scion of the Amanozako drug cartel. The same case that the NIS put me off."

"Ah, fuck," Chan shakes his head, disappointed. "You're now a mob doctor, Kim? Stitching up cartel foot soldiers? I hope you at least get paid well for this."

"We all have to make our living, Detective," Kim shrugs. "After that sham malpractice, I've struggled. Now if you'd let me, I'd like to operate here."

Chan glances at you uneasily, his tongue poking at his inner curve of the cheek. The bodyguards adjust their grip on their guns and the lightbulb that hangs over the table shifts in the wind, causing the knife in one of the bodyguards to glisten and hit your eyes. Dr. Kim slowly resumes examining Susanoo's wound.

"Back away, pigs, if you value your life," Susanoo seethes and you click your tongue.

"We just want to talk," Chan is firm and Susanoo flips the two of you his middle finger and swears, "On dore, ē konjō shi toru ya nai ke! I ain't talking to you both."

"Not you, Susanoo. We want to talk to Dr. Kim."

"Me? You want to talk to me?" Dr. Kim looks at the two of you, worried.

"They're playing you, doc. The minute you get outta the line of fire, they're going to haul me off. Kutabare! Keep working!"

Dr. Kim looks at the two of you and then the bodyguards before resuming the examination on the wound.

"Susanoo, just tell your men to put down their guns. We'll get you to the hospital," you suggest. He is furious, even more so after your suggestion.

"I ain't going to any hospital, yariman," he seethes in anger and Chan loads the gun in the heat of the moment, yelling back at Susanoo, "Call her that once more and this bullet flies straight into your skull."

You can only guess what Susanoo said, but it was safe to presume it is something offensive because Chan responds rudely enough for the bodyguards to step forward in defense. You yell, "Hey! Hey! Back off."

Everyone's yelling. Chan shifts and points his gun at Susanoo, seconding your voice, "Tell your men to back off, Susanoo or I swear to god, I'll put a hole in your head." There is commotion around when Susanoo yells back, "Oh, big talk, little man. You do that. And you and your girlfriend are next."

"Yeah, probably. But you'll be too dead to appreciate that," Chan bites back. Susanoo's face hardens and he continues, "Just let us take the doctor. That's all we ask."

"It's not going to happen," Dr. Kim refuses. "I'm not going to the prison again. Not when you even brought a former NIS agent with you this time round."

"Who said anything about the prison, doctor?" You ask. "We just want to talk to you about something." The doctor digs deeper into the wound to find the bullet. Susanoo screams in agony.

"It's about the Maskmaker?" He laughs. "You think I'm the Maskmaker?"

Susanoo chides in, "The dude that has been killing all those girls? Doc, is that you?"

"Oh, that's just ridiculous," he digs further for the bullet out from Susanoo's body as he screams again. "The idiocy of this city's police department has no bounds."

"So you'll answer all the questions we have for you?" You ask. Dr. Kim jerks the tweezer out of Susanoo's shoulder and drops the bullet into a tiny steel plate. The patient is screaming in agony and the doctor smiles, "There! That's the bullet. Anyone with even a little medical training can stitch you up from here."

"You're leaving?" Susanoo asks.

"Yeah," the doctor smiles. "I'm going to leave with them to get this absurd mess sorted."

"We'll take the doctor and leave," Chan informs. "You and your men can disperse by then."

Dr. Kim places the instruments carefully, the metal clinking and slowly tells, "I'm just going over to then slowly. You understand?"

"Yeah, doc. I understand," Susanoo smirks. "Understand this!" He yells. He whips his hand out from behind his back, pointing a chromed semi-automatic pistol right at you. You heave in a huge breath, your eyes widening and your grip on your gun faltering.

Chan sees red, like paint that spills over his vision. He has been seeing red from the minute Susanoo laid his filthy eyes on you and so Chan doesn't think much when he pulls the trigger.

The gunshot is as good as a hypodermic to the heart. It isn't simply loud, it cracks into the air and echoes around the walls, resonating and magnifying the feeling of our vulnerability. A bright red circle appears in the centre of Susanoo's forehead. His head snaps back and the blood splatters all over the table and over the doctor's white coat.

"No!" The doctor screams. Susanoo's body falls off the table and the doctor tries to hold it. He falls to the ground and you hurl yourself along with Chan behind a wooden cabinet in the commotion.

"Jesus! He killed the wakagashira," one of the bodyguards says, while the other screams, "Kill him. Kill him. Shoot him now."

Chaos follows. Both the bodyguards open fire, aiming at the cabinet and everywhere in the room, their shots whizzing audibly past you. You fire off one shot, miss and throw yourself forward, flipping over another operating table to use it as a cover. Chan looks at you, worried, yelling over the gunshots piercing through the air, "Are you alright, Y/N?"

"I'm fine," you raise your gun to show you were unscratched. Chan heaves out a sigh in relief, turning his focus back on the guards. You peek around the cover and see the two guards crouching behind the cover. Dr. Kim scampers away, retreating into the darkness.

"Get back here, Kim!" Chan aggravates. Upon hearing his sound, the guards fire again. The side of the cabinet bursts open, spraying Chan with wooden splinters and you wince. Chan pulls himself back luckily.

"You're a dead man," the guard screams. More bullets explode against the cabinet. One of them blows a huge chunk of it and Chan scrambles to stay behind cover. 

"I'm pinned down here," he hisses at you. You look at him worried, wondering how you could help and realise that you are staying covered under a steeled operation table. You tell him, "Get here when you can."

Suddenly, there's the sound of an engine revving in the back to the warehouse. Your knees straighten instinctively and you stand barely up, swearing, "Damn it! He's getting away!"

The guards see you and Chan groans, "Ah, Y/N," and he leaps forward, pulling you down with him, taking cover behind the operation table as the guards open fire again furiously. Chan falls on top of you and you wince in the impact. He quickly lifts himself up, his body weight supported on the hands that are pressed on the ground by either side of your face. He whispers, leaning closer towards you, "Let him go. We can't get him without risking ourselves, you idiot. Stay down!"

Outside, the car revs up and zooms away and your head falls to the side, disappointed, "He got away."

Chan supports his body weight on his left arm as he leans closer and brushes the hair away from your face, cupping your face with his right hand for a second or two. Your cheeks stain red and you hate that you're having a moment when you could be shot dead along with Chan. He presses a quick kiss on your forehead, his feel lingering for a long time before he sits up, "We'll get him the next time, okay?" And you nod, biting your lower lip and tugging at it nervously.

Caught up in the moment you just shared with Chan, you don't notice how quiet the room has gone. You nudge at him and mouth, "Listen, Chan." The room is eerily quiet and neither of the guards shoot.

"Are you two ready to surrender?" Chan asks.

There's no response. None at all. You can hear the soft padding footsteps and the sound of someone fumbling with a glass bottle. You smell rubbing alcohol and your eyes enlarge. There's the sound of the cloth crumpling and a lighter flicking.

"They are making a Molotov cocktail!"

"We have to shoot," you tell him. "Now!" Chan listens to you. He ducks low, under the bottom of an adjacent cabinet as he slowly crawls till there with you hot on his heels ("I'm not losing you now," you had said.) and Chan gets a clear view of the bodyguard's feet from here.

Chan's kind enough to give a heads up as he shouts, "Hey, you!" before firing off a shot. The bodyguard's shoe bursts open and he screams, falling down and dropping the Molotov cocktail on himself. He writhes on the floor, engulfed in bright red flame laced with blue trails and you press your lips at the site, looking away quickly.

"That leaves one." Chan walks ahead and looks around for the other person. Meanwhile, the other bodyguards loom eerily behind your back, covering your mouth tightly and pulling you back with him. Chan pops over the cabinet and sees no sign of the only remaining bodyguard.

Susanoo's bodyguard drags you to one corner away from Chan. You try breathing loudly but the man has his arms choking your passage and you begin coughing, only for the man to cover his hand over your mouth, the gun edging dangerously close to your face. Impulsively, you throw your head forward, hitting the gun and sending it sliding away after making a loud noise. You cough out loudly when he uncovers your mouth after swearing, "Bitch," and pulling out the knife that you had seen earlier in his pocket and holding it by your neck. It cuts through your skin lightly, blood dripping down slowly.

Chan's eyes embody what you identify as fear. It's the same look you had on the day Minhyuk fell down before you, bleeding after being shot. It is fear that changes to anger when the guard's head peers over your shoulder, breathing onto your skin, telling Chan, "She's a pretty one. A very pretty one. Too bad I can't have more fun with her before shooting her dead."

Chan's knuckles turn white as he grips on the gun tightly, lining up the shot. The man barks, "Put down your gun. Put down your gun, man, unless you want her dead!"

"Okay, okay," he raises his hand, slowly kneeling down. "Just let her go." He lowers his gun, the sound resonating the walls as it hits the ground and kicks it to the right.

"Good boy, good—" He takes his hand away from your neck for a split second but that is all you need to seize the opportunity. You grab his arm and jerk him down — his knife cutting your skin by the arm and the dermis opens painfully in the hassle — and elbow him brutally in the side of his head. The bodyguard drops to his knees, wobbles for a second and then falls over unconscious.

Chan rushes towards you, pulling your unharmed arm forward, your body falling into his hold as he hugs you tightly. His head snuggles into the curve of your neck as he holds you tightly, mumbling, "I was so scared if he'd kill you. I was so scared." His hand rests on the back of your head as he pulls you into him, your nose buried in his broad, warm chest. He places a kiss — a peck, a barely there contact of his lips — against your forehead as he pulls back to look at you properly. The blood from your forearm stains his shirt but he doesn't seem to mind, caught up in the overload of emotions he feels.

Your head is empty. The pain is still loud but it seems to be fine when Bang Chan hugs you so tight that he wishes he could do that always. You pull away from his grip and look around the place. 

"We just killed Amanozako Susanoo," Chan reaffirms. 

"Yes," you smile at him, your cheeks still heated up. "Yes, we did."

"Yes, sire," you respond politely, "Yes, I will have the full write up given to you by tomorrow. Goodbye, sire." And you hang up. Chan starts the car on ignition as soon as you are done with the call. You look to your left and through Chan's being, you see the police cars parked all around the warehouse, the red light illuminating in the late evening. Officers rush into the warehouse, swarming around the place.

"Hey, Y/N," he pauses. He rip out a piece of his shirt absent-mindedly and pulls you forward, trudging your being into the gear stick as he holds your injured arm up and ties the bleeding wound up, the cloth of his white shirt staining red slowly. "Are you alright?"

"A little shaken up," you smile. "And the slight scratches," Chan glares at you and you chuckle, insisting, "I'm fine."

"I'm glad you didn't get hurt," you mumble, relieved. Almost like you can take easy breaths now and the air is a lot less suffocating. "I am, oh my—"

"Hey, hey," Chan frowns. "But you got hurt."

"Meh," you shrug. He looks towards you and your hair is loose, barely keeping it up in that ponytail of yours after the entire commotion but you don't bother to tie it back up properly, letting huge strands of hair fall forwards as you look down at your knees, the jeans now ripped.

"Have you ever been in a shootout before?" Chan asks. 

"Of sorts," you mumble. "It didn't end well though. I was worried today would be a repeat show of that. Sorry for being a wreck in the beginning." 

You pull down the window of his car as he finally pressed on the gas, the car pulling forwards. The breeze pushes the strands of your hair behind and Chan holds his breath in moments like these. He wonders if it is possible for someone to look pretty even after a shootout with scratches and injuries on their body, but you pull it off so well that he thinks it's hot. He thinks it's hot enough that you took the big bulky man down but the way you were unfazed after that, that was sheer excellence in Chan's eyes and all he could do was gape at how beautiful you are. 

"Hey," Chan brings your attention back to him and away from the passing trees and the low noises of the sirens ringing the air. "Did the District Chief reprimand you or something?"

You laugh, "You're kidding, right? Amanozako Susanoo was a drug-runner and a rapist who we suspect of at least eighteen gangland murder. I might just get a medal for this."

"Find Dr. Kim and you might get two," Chan teases, his right hand on the gearstick and the other on the steering wheel, occasionally flashing you a smile or two as he drives.

"Chan," you frown. "I don't think he's our guy. I don't think he's our Maskmaker. The way he acted in there and the way he reacted to us? He didn't seem like it. He doesn't seem to me as someone with a deep psychosis."

Chan sighs, "I had a feeling you'd say that."

Chan's phone rings and the car audio rings along with it. He presses on a button on the steering wheel, putting Captain Han through the line. 

"Detective!"

"Cap!"

"Hey, Captain," you laugh over. Chan smiles and informs, "You're on speaker technically, Cap."

"About Dr. Kim," Captain Han starts.

"We don't think he did it, Cap," Chan cuts him off. He nervously chews on his bottom lip and looks at you. "We don't think Dr. Kim is our guy."

"What in the world?" 

"He doesn't seem like it," you explain further. "I know it might seem like he is the guy but we spoke to him, Captain. He doesn't seem like it."

"I don't want to hear it, the two of you," his voice is firm and authoritative. "Amanozako Susanoo is dead, Dr. Kim escaped and now you're telling me that he might not be the killer?"

"It's a working theory," Chan protests and you heave out a sigh in frustration.

"I appreciate that you're working on theories, Chan—" 

"Thanks," he sheepishly smiles. 

"But what facts do you have to support it? All the evidence points towards Dr. Kim being the Maskmaker. He even matches the profile Y/N made," Captain Han tells and your eyebrows rise at him calling you by your first name. 

"Ah, yes, but—" you trail.

"I don't want to hear it, Y/N," he says, frustrated. "Unless the two of you can back up your allegation, Dr. Kim remains as our prime suspect.

"Listen to me, Cap—"

"No, you listen to me. Because of you, we've got one cartel officer in the morgue, one in the burn ward and," Captain pauses. "Y/N resulted in the third one with a broken jaw." You click your tongue in annoyance.

"I did what I had to do," you blatantly say.

"It was a righteous shoot!" Chan whines and Jisung is quick to respond.

"I know and that is why you're not being suspended. Again. I pulled every string and cashed every favour I had with the Commissioner to let you two continue this case, or at least till we have Dr. Kim brought to justice."

"Thank you," Chan decides to choose his words wisely. "I appreciate it."

"I want the two of you back at the precinct to search for—"

"I can't, however, oblige with that request of yours, Cap," Chan cuts Namjoon's sentence and you're surprised at him refusing an order.

"Why, may I ask?"

"Y/N's injured. I'm not coming anywhere near the precinct till I have her taken care of," Chan responds in monotone and you look away, cheeks staining red. You also want to yell at Chan to stop treating you like some fragile doll but you won't deny that the care felt nice.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Captain's voice booms through the speaker, louder this time.

"I'll be fine, Captain. It's probably nothing and Chan is overreacting."

"You won't stop bleeding, so shut up."

"Uh, I'll leave you two to it." Captain Han's voice pipes in between your quarrel and you mumble, "Okay."

The Captain hangs up and you roll your eyes at Chan, "I'm not injured severely."

"You're injured nonetheless," his voice rises and he glares at you, pressing on the gas a little bit more. 

You mumble, incoherently, "I'm fine," and Chan chooses to ignore it, turning on the radio news.

Captain Han's voice booms through the speakers as he addresses a crowd of reporters, "Thank you for coming here today. As you already know, we have a break in the Maskmaker case. We now have a primary suspect: Dr. Kim Ilwoo. At the moment, Dr. Kim remains at large but we hope that the citizens of Seoul will cooperate in our attempts to bring him to justice…"

"Everyone — Every cop — is going to be behind Dr. Kim while the real Maskmaker is still at large."

"That's not good," you sigh and you notice Chan pulling into the parking lot of a residential complex.

"Yeah, it isn't," he says, unbuckling his seat belt after parking. He leans forward and hovers over your body, as you can feel his breath by your face, the cold essence of peppermint chewing gum fresh from his mouth. He unbuckles your seat belt for you and looking at you with his nose brushing past yours slightly, he says, "We're here."

This night is definitely going to be a recipe for a disaster. You know it.

Chan fumbles with his key, trying one after another from the bunch and you laugh, murmuring, "Should have divided them."

"Then, I'd lose them," he pointedly stares at you before finding the right one and opening the door. 

The room gives away his new bachelorhood, or the very least you presume he has had a recent breakup.

Everything is functional. The mantle is where he puts his keys and garage door opener. On the coffee table is a wrench set and a new set of wheels for a longboard. Under the small eating table is a pack of beer. You are guessing that the fridge-freezer holds meals for one and he has more clothes in his laundry basket than in his closet. He's not hopeless though, he clearly knows one end of a vacuum cleaner from the other. He's got modern looking prints of the wall and a small photo of his folks on a side table. You identify Jisung, Felix and Hyunjin from there. He's never decorated, that's for sure, but then who paints a rental place? You know you wouldn't.

He turns, smiling shyly, not a look you've seen on his face before. Spending time with Chan entitled you to see a lot of different shades in him. You can't help but smile back — he brought you to his place against the order of his captain just to take care of you. You are dead sure that this is enough to steer you from the loud thoughts screaming at you to not let history repeat again. But you're a fool. A fool for Bang Chan.

Your eyes linger uneasily on the cardboard boxes taped with elephant tape that is arranged carefully against the corners. Chan tells you to sit on his sofa. It's a pretty nice place for a detective of his ranking and you watch him move around in his house. He brings a bag full of content and pushes the table in front of the sofa to the side as he kneels before you.

In the dim lighting of his home, Chan looks beautiful. He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. You guess he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they normally looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Of course, the blush that accompanied it was a dead give-away. 

This is a man you wanted to know more than you'd ever felt before. How could you ever hold back your soul from touching his?

Chan helps you out of your boots and you laugh, "I'm not handicapped, Chan," and shove his arms away, your chest vibrating and the walls echoing your laughter. 

He continues to help you out of your boots even after that, mumbling, "Let me help." And your hands stop midway as you watch how gently he takes them out and places them by your side. He sits by your side and drags the bag closer to him along with the tub of water and cloth. He unwraps the piece of cloth he had tied your injury with and throws it to the side. 

He winces visibly, "That's a deep cut," and rubs his forehead before muttering, "Ah, that bastard."

You don't say anything as you watch him. He uses his left hand to apply pressure on the cut, praying that the bleeding reduces. He dips the new white cloth into the water and cleans the area along with the help of a soap. You clench your teeth in the pain that hits you as he cleans the injury. He wipes the cloth over your neck too, edging his face closer to you as his left hand leaves your arm and grips your face to angle it. You are flustered and take steady breaths in, praying that he doesn't notice your heartbeat rising because of him.

He applies antibiotic ointment over it and covers the area with a sterile bandage, the two of you engulfed in nothing but the silence, your breathing and the sound of the fan rotating. He moves back and smiles to himself, "There, all done," and moves his gaze up at you only to find you staring at him already.

You had promised yourself to never repeat history again; to never fall in love with a fellow partner; to never like another man who swore to protect justice at all costs.

But promises are meant to be broken and as you gaze at Chan under his dim lights, his face so temptingly close to you, you are more than ready to break the promise you've made with yourself.

As you lean forward, your fingertips tracing his jawline, Chan knows and feels the same because he meets you halfway, his hands creeping behind your back by your waist and tugging you closer, your bodies touching and your lips on his, soft and testing waters initially. Chan pulls you closer, his lips moving against yours, angling your face to delve deeper into you. 

He has his lips against yours, nearly knocking you off all the wind in your lungs. You sigh into the kiss, find your hands in his hair, tugging at the roots and moving against his body, your legs stretching by either side of his body. His hand sprawls over your neck, his thumb caressing against your jugular before pressing into the neck, rubbing slow circles. He kisses the top of your lips, your hands tugging at his shirt. 

And the two of you move against each other as the night darkens, covering everything and the gasps and breathless sighs that take over the soft air in the room has nothing against the two of you — the two of you that hold each other in some sort of desperation for physical reassurance. For some sort of hope that the two of you diffuse into each other.

[jiminrings]

BALLOON ANIMAL ARTIST JK I JUST FEEL LIKE HE WOULD BE REALLY GOOD AT IT AND MAKE YOU A FLOWER THEN ASK YOU ON A DATE

baby i love u and your big sexy brain <3 welcome to waikiki meets hospital playlist dynamic ft. balloon artist!jk

“who’s a good baby? is it you? iS IT YOU????”

you’d be the first one to admit that you had an exhausting horrible night

being a nurse sUCKS the life out of you and as much as it’s fulfilling, you almost always feel the urge to admit yourself to the ER for being extremely fatigued

it’s all worth it!! it should be

after all, paying for a mansion in an exclusive village and sharing it with your friends doeS warrant some elbow grease

seokjin works in wall street and sometimes he comes home crying but it’s okay because you do have an expensive fridge that everyone worked overtime for <3

hoseok’s a veterinary assistant and is your trusty friend who always sends in pictures of the animals that come in to cheer you up while at work

namjoon’s a painter by passion and accountant by profession!! he does only come out with a few pieces at a time but mAN does it rake in the money

jimin’s a flight attendant and does everyone the pleasure of securing either free or discounted tickets, and bringing home unused airline towels to dry off the dishes!!

lastly, taehyung’s someone you can call a former trustfund baby or somewhat :O the last big chunk of money he spent from his fund was the downpayment and security deposit for this mansion!!!

it’s a long story and he’s currently all over the place but he’s finding regular jobs!! his latest gig was working at a high-end ice cream place but he immediately quit once he learned that he needed to put his back into it and not just scoop up ice cream like he did in his dreams :((

most importantly, taehyung has a baby :-)

he’s a dad!! a single one at that

it’s truly a LONG story but the bottomline is that he has nabi, his cutest little dumpling!! and he has all of you, his friends who didn’t hesitate to step up as nabi’s parents in a way too even if he didn’t ask any of you

you all love the chunky monkey so much that you’ve all taken the liberty to call him your baby at times and tae doesn’t even mind!! nabi’s so lucky (he hopes) to have him as a dad and his friends as his cool uncles and aunt

nevertheless, you indeed had a bad night working the night shift and came home to nabi’s birthday party just in time!! :D

he turned two years old at midnight and even if you weren’t physically present at the mansion like the guys were (they requested their leaves two months earlier) because of being understaffed, you were able to see him and tae blow out multiple cakes that each one bought him

seeing him giggle at your arms just by doing the bare minimum makes you full already <3

all your exhaustion is melted away because it’s your favorite toddler’s birthday party!! the party that you all insisted on shelling out for that made tae almost cry bc of how much you all love his son

“jimin i am not sewing your forehead up when you end up falling in the wrong angle,” you roll your eyes at him who’s currently doing backflips in the bouncy house that managed to fit in the mansion

“hoseok can!!” he yells back and backflips twice in a row, much to the actual children’s amusement and your worry

“i will NOT stitch you up! the thread i have is for the pregnant dogs only!!!”

everyone’s entertaining guests left and right, including taehyung who’s the dad of the little man of the hour :D

he keeps pointing at nabi who’s currently in your arms every ten seconds and it’s now your job to make him giggle every single time to wave at the people

“what do you want, monkey? do you want some ice cream? i won’t tell your dad,” you eagerly ask the wide-eyed baby in your arms, pointing at the ice cream cart that namjoon probably ordered

“no thank you!” nabi cutely aND politely declines, his head shaking no and his speech and pronunciation getting clearer day by day

most of the time though he says it like tHANK YEWWWW and you would immediately grin every time because it’s the cutest thing ever

“hmm, look at that!! face painting!! do you want some butterflies?”

you point at yet another station that you guess seokjin arranged, knowing that at some point into this party, he’d all drag you in here to get matching marks or something lol

nabi once again declines, his eyes searching around that makes you do the same on what you could do to entertain him

he has the same habit down like taehyung and loudly gASPS, pointing his finger and almost shrieking in excitement

“bawoo — balloon!!! balloon!!!”

:O

it is now your life purpose to walk as fast as you could to this balloon station with nabi bouncing up and down your arm in excitement

jungkook’s having the time of his life here :D

normally he’s mostly called in the holiday season and occasionally at big birthday parties (the one where like two sides of the family share every baby’s first birthday party lmao) throughout the year!!

but he’s never had a client who requested him for a singular birthday party!! let alone at a hOUSE

ok maybe that was an understatement

he means a mansion

if he’s being quite honest, the mr. park jimin he spoke to on the phone sounded too kind that he just mistakened him for a party planner or something

he immediately said yes because he had no on-site bookings for that day, or even the week perhaps, and expected to stroll into a carnival in the middle of an executive village

aha :D jungkook is wrong :D

jimin met him by the front door wherein a lot of people are already crossing paths such as catering and not to mention the bouncy house you cAN’T miss, and just briefly touched in on the situation

“oh no, i’m not the dad, man — but thanks!! i’m his uncle. nabi’s dad is my friend, taehyung. and me and my friends, including taehyung, all live here. we’re all like family, basically.”

jungkook saw the other stations invited and he expected that his would have less children y’know?? bouncy house, ice cream station, facepainting, hotdog cart aND magic show???? yeah <3

but god is he wrong

the children are in a single-file line for hIM and his balloon artistry!!! the requests range from pretzels to pirate hats to chandeliers with the bulbs as smiley faces!!!

he’s managed to do all of them so far and he’s now made a decent dent on the line of children waiting for him

jungkook is a happy and content balloon artist :D

“EXCUSE ME! BIRTHDAY BOY COMING THROUGH!!”

oh my god what was that

you’re walking at full-speed and holler out, making sure to emphasize birthday boy because nuh-uh you and nabi will nOT line up for his own party <3 thank you very much

the children coo and the older kids coax the other ones to make way for the both of you to the front of the line, immediately plopping to a mini chair in front of the guy

“hiiii!!”

nabi drawls politely and waves his hand, making you do the same

“what a cute little thing,” the guy in front of you coos and it’s his voice that perhaps makes you melt a little, just seeing the top of his hair for now because he’s crouching down to be eye-level with nabi, “what can i do for you, little buddy?”

he toothily grins and straightens his posture, raising his eyes to look at who’s holding nabi in place and-

???????????????????

jungkook literally stops breathing for a second

“h-hi!! what can i do for you today?” jungkook squeaks, his eyes even more wide and curious to look at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life

you’re sure that you were gonna stammer once you open your mouth so you don’t at all, instead focusing on nabi who’s on your lap

“what do you want, monkey?”

“nabi please! i want nABI!!! nabi nabi nabiiiiiiiiii-“

“yes. he wants nabi, please.”

jungkook nods fervently, his hands about to pluck ballons from his kit before he realizes to ask

“does he want his face? or like, his name? what colors do you want, bud?”

he’s not the least bit bothered at the choices in his head because you’re widening your eyes on what could this guy dO with just balloons, knowing to yourself that even pumping one is difficult work already

“oh! he wants nabi,” you clarify and jungkook tilts his head, mouth slightly agape at to what you’re trying to get at, “butterfly, i mean. nabi knows that his name means butterfly and he likes them a lot! don’t you, monkey?”

nabi nods so hard that it almost gives him a headache and jungkook wants to facepalm himself to the grave

“r-right! why didn’t i think of that?? because nabi means.... nabi....... right!! sorry, oh my god. o-oh! i meant oh my gosh. i uhm-...”

he’s a mess and he knows it, letting his hands take over and grab the same theme colors of blue and lavender from his bag to start on his work

kook tries not to lift his head up ever so often because you’d find him out instantly that he’s looking at you

so what he does instead is peer and coo at nabi every few seconds and tHEN look up at you because you also giggle whenever he giggles

he’s probably feeling pressure with the way your eyes are set on him too and what he’s doing that he pOPS a balloon right with his hands

“sorry, sorry! did i spook you?”

jungkook’s worried because he heard a collective gasp from the kids around him but his main priority is the birthday boy AND you

nabi’s shoulders rose and that’s about it

he shakes his head to himself, looking at you who’s carrying a curious gaze on your face that looks amused

“sorry. i-it’s just you’re so pretty and-“

he’s embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl and her son and-

wait a second

the color just dRAINS from his face and he’s about to quit at the second

“oh my god i am so sorry. y-you must be nabi’s mother. you’re mr. taehyung’s-“

“friend!! i’m y/n, i’m just taehyung’s friend,” you interject quickly because you cannot believe that pretty boy called you pretty, and at the next breath thought you were taehyung’s wife, “and nabi’s my nephew. we’re all just friends who live together!! i have no boyfriend, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

...

....

yeah maybe you embarrassed yourself this time

you may have said too much information to the balloon artist but jungkook’s just staring at you fondly

and nabi’s switching his gaze between the two of you and claps his hands to snap the two of you out of it lmao

kook chuckles to himself and he cannot stop smiling, even when he’s tying the last balloon to nabi’s butterfly

“there you go, cutie. happy birthday!!” he hands nabi the hUGE butterfly he just made but the sheer difference of how big it is makes the toddler even more happy, hugging it to his chest

jungkook watches you pepper kisses on nabi’s cheeks and that launches him into quickly pulling out balloons while your eyes are deviated from him, hands twisting and turning like his wHOLE LIFE depended on it

“my name’s jungkook, by the way,” he calls you when you’re just about to stand up, smiling giddily at you, “thought you should know.”

cute :-)

before you could thank him, he extends his arm and your mind recognizes the familiar shape which makes you smile instantly

jungkook made you a flower balloon <3

“i think i’ll remember you, jungkook.”

you laugh as the only thing you can smell from it is latex, the huge flower staring at you right in the face

jungkook sheepishly blushes, pursing his lips in happiness

“i’m free whenever you’re free — f-for a date, y’know? just so you could remember me more.”

.

.

.

bonus: dilf taehyung has his own drabble!!

bonus bonus: bestie anon brought my attention to these tiktoks below and gAWD i’m so happy <3

first, second

[nightingaelic]

Companions react to the Courier going for the Pro Deathclaw Hunter or Cracker-Jack Timing challenges.

Why not both? TW: Blood, gore, explosions

"Come on!" the courier yelled, sprinting down the side of the quarry as fast as they could go.

The noise drew the attention of the deathclaws that had taken up residence in the limestone hollow, each one turning to sniff the wind and pinpoint the source of the disturbance. The alpha male roared, and the nesting mother crouched low over her jittery offspring in their gravel nest.

Still, the courier rushed headlong into the canyon, making much more noise than was safe. The rest of the deathclaws began to snarl and gallop toward them, but quick to meet the noise of their charge was an angry buzzing cresting the quarry's rim. A swarm of cazadores poured over the limestone edge, hot on the courier's trail.

Whooping with delight and maybe a little fear, the courier waved their hat in the air as they ran, signaling their companion. They began to zig and zag around the quarry basin, between the piles and crates of tell-tale red sticks that had mysteriously appeared in the deathclaws' den overnight.

Arcade Gannon: "What are we doing?" Arcade swore, pressed his back against the limestone slab he had been crouching behind and lit the fuse next to him. It fizzed and sparked, quickly burning down the rope and out of sight. Arcade covered his ears and shrank as far into the rock as he could, but the first blast of dynamite still shuddered through his whole body and cracked the air loud enough to deafen a cyberdog. Gravel flew left and right in Arcade's peripheral vision, and the explosions were quickly underscored by frantic roars and shrieks from the courier's injured prey.

Arcade could pick out the whine of the recharger rifle as it fired repeatedly, and counted six grenade blasts before the battle was over and the quarry fell quiet. He only dared to move when he heard the courier calling him, urging him to come out of his hiding place.

"I don't care if the NCR gives you an entire state to clear out another deathclaw nest, you are not bringing me along," he announced as he rose shakily to his feet, leaning on the huge chunk of limestone for support. "Having to watch you sneak around here last night planting bombs everywhere through a pair of binoculars was already torture, but this?"

The courier, who stood breathing heavily among the remains of deathclaw and cazador alike, shrugged. "Suit yourself. But next time, then, you're not seeing any of the caps."

Craig Boone: Boone let out the breath he had been holding, loosened his limbs and squeezed the trigger of his rifle. He pulled away from his scope to watch the bundle of dynamite explode once the bullet hit it, setting off a chain reaction that engulfed the quarry in flying rocks, fire and wasteland critters torn asunder. Outside the blast radius, Boone waited, listening to the screams of dying deathclaws being cut short and the whine of injured cazadores stopping one by one. Here and there, the hum of an energy weapon cut through the tangle of noise, and the pop of homemade grenades kicked up smaller bursts of crushed rock.

Eventually, the courier walked out of the Mojave's newest dust cloud and made their way up the ridge Boone had chosen as his vantage point. They were covered in blood, but Boone was certain it wasn't theirs. Any normal person wouldn't have walked out of that quarry alive: Then again, any normal person wouldn't have gotten up again if they'd been shot in the head.

They tossed their dented recharger rifle on the rock next to Boone and laid their string of tin grenades down reverently. "All finished."

Boone raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. The courier caught the rare display of skepticism and grinned. "What? After Coyote Tail Ridge, this was a cakewalk."

Lily Bowen: "Oh, be safe, pumpkin!" Unable to contain herself, Lily bellowed the warning to the courier while she struggled to light the fuse next to her. It took a few tries, but eventually the lighter sparked beneath her large fingers and the flame danced away into the quarry. A few of the closest deathclaws turned their heads toward the sound of her voice, and Lily gripped the hilt of her vertibird blade tightly as they caught sight of her and began to charge. She needn't have worried: They were right on top of the first pile of dynamite when the fuse burned up to it, and were completely annihilated in the resulting explosion.

As the dynamite caches around the quarry began to explode one by one, Lily waded in, sword swinging. All of the cazadores and deathclaws she encountered were already dead, but she buried her blade in their necks to make sure. A few of the creatures still cried out and writhed on the ground, but before Lily could make her way over to finish them off, they were silenced by smaller blasts or the beam of an energy weapon. Eventually, the only two things still making noise in the quarry were her and the courier.

"Come here, dearie," Lily insisted, pulling a handkerchief the size of a small tablecloth out of her overalls. "Let's get you cleaned up."

The courier half-heartedly tried to wave off her attempts to mop the blood and dust off of them, but eventually submitted to her attentions. "We'll go straight back to Sloan and ask to use their showers," she chided as she carefully wiped their face. "You have to look presentable before you turn in the bounty."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul, who wasn't particularly religious, still hedged his bets and crossed himself before lighting the fuse. "No mames, courier," he muttered as the flame spread rapidly along the rope and out of sight. "I'd like to keep my limbs."

He needn't have worried. The explosions he had helped the courier rig went off without a hitch, one after the other in a chain reaction of destruction that showered the quarry in cazador segments and deathclaw tails. A piece of a cazador wing fluttered down out of the dusty sky, drifting softly to the ground until it came to rest next to Raul's boot. He picked the orange, gossamer insect part up, turning it this way and that to catch the light while the courier's sounds of battle echoed behind him.

"A little help, Raul?" he heard them call after a minute or two.

Raul sighed, plucked a spare stick of dynamite from the box they had left him, and walked down to the quarry bed. They were holding off a crippled deathclaw with their recharger rifle, which appeared to have been damaged enough to stop functioning. The immature deathclaw appeared to have realized its attacker was out of grenades as well, and had backed them up against a limestone slab.

Raul lit the fuse on the dynamite and chucked it at the deathclaw. "Duck and cover!"

The courier obeyed and hit the ground hard, just in time for the creature to explode over them. They disappeared under a shower of blood and scales.

"You owe me dinner at the Gourmand," Raul said, crossing his arms and surveying the scene. "Before you get any other bright ideas."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Oh hell yes." Cass popped her head up over the rock she'd been crouched behind, checking the courier's proximity to dynamite caches before setting the fuse she was holding alight. It did the trick, and Cass started whooping too as the explosions began to go off. Unable to hold back her laughter, Cass giggled with abandon as she chucked tin grenades and spare dynamite sticks into the resulting fray. The courier was little more than a shadow, putting down injured creatures left and right with merciful blasts from their recharger rifle that lit up the dust cloud like lightning.

When the debris began to settle, Cass pulled herself up onto the limestone and stretched out with a contented sigh. "That went a sight better than the last time we tried this, Six," she called.

The courier appeared in the quarry's center, panting. Their eyes were just as full of joy as Cass' had been, and they doubled over to put their hands on their knees and rest. "Agreed," they finally said, when they had caught their breath.

"Final count?" Cass asked.

They scanned the canyon together, counting on their fingers. "Twelve cazadores, including the one back at the memorial, and... nine deathclaws," the courier answered, their eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Personal best?"

Cass nodded. "Definitely. And now..."

She scooted off the rock and patted dust out of her clothes. "... we collect. Those Sloan boys owe us big-time."

Veronica Santangelo: "Oh, this is a bad idea." Veronica gritted her teeth and lit the fuse the courier had left her with, then pressed her hands over her ears as tightly as she could. When the rumble of the explosions had stopped, she dared to peek outside her hiding place, but the floor of the quarry had disappeared under a cloud of smoke, limestone dust and cazador parts. The wounded cazadores were trying in vain to sting the angry lizards that wandered too close to where they lay. "Not gonna work, buddy," Veronica said under her breath, when one of them jabbed uselessly at a surviving deathclaw baby. "That stinger won't get through those scales and thick skin. You're toast."

A smaller explosion obliterated the two creatures as they were locked in combat, and the courier emerged from the mess. "Come down here!" they called, before firing a few blasts from their recharger rifle into the deathclaw for good measure.

Veronica skidded down the quarry's side, scattering gravel in her wake. She brushed her robes off and straightened up. "All finished?"

The courier beckoned her over to where the nesting deathclaw mother had been crouching before the dynamite made its entrance. There, miraculously untouched by the turmoil around them, lay a clutch of unhatched eggs.

"Ohhhhh." Veronica's eyes went wide, and she knelt down next to the nest. She felt the closest egg. It was still warm.

"What do you think?" the courier asked. "Jas Wilkins has dibs on one of these, but what about the rest? Take them to Red Lucy?"

Veronica picked the egg up and cradled it close. "Can I keep one?"

"Uhhhhh..." The courier shrugged. "Okay. But if we bring it back to the Lucky 38, Arcade will kill us."

ED-E: The eyebot at the Courier's side began blasting battle music from its speakers and drew a few of the pursuing cazadores away from the chase. When they were right on top of a crate of dynamite, deposited carefully under cover of night by the courier and their faithful robot, ED-E zapped the concealed fuse and blew the bugs to bits. The eyebot tumbled in mid-air, but quickly recovered and gained the attention of a pair of deathclaws, who fell for the exact same trick. They went down a little less easily, but the courier filled in with a tin grenade and a few blasts from their recharger rifle. The two spun around each other, ED-E beeping triumphantly under the music and the courier grunting and yelling with the effort, until no more challengers arose and they stood alone in the center of the quarry.

The courier turned to ED-E and checked it over for dents. ED-E beeped its satisfaction, and they laughed. "Good job, but we need to get you a new set of songs to play. Maybe we can find Mr. New Vegas and get some holotapes for you."

Rex: The cyberdog bounded at the courier's side, and darted away only once to avoid the Molotov cocktail they tossed at the nearest dynamite cache. The world exploded around the pair in a cacophony of disrupted earth, rock and enemies. Rex latched onto the nearest deathclaw's tail, forced it to turn in a tight circle and remain relatively still until the courier's gun took it down permanently. They tore their way through each of the challengers, insect and lizard alike. When the last enemy fell, Rex remained alert, scenting the settling dust and directing his companion to surviving cazadores and deathclaws that lay dying. Their breaths were each cut short by the courier, and Rex's heart sang.