#what part of stay 100 miles away from my house don’t you understand

[fruitless-vain]

Can’t be paranoid if you’re too sleep deprived to even hold one coherent thought 🤷‍♀️

[beefshadow]

you could come here or i could go there. theres only a half day left to go and its all gonna be dark that whole time. a lot could happen in that time. but it probably wont. i’ll probably go to bed soon and then i’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. on your way to colorado with a prettier girl. but what could happen?

well. i know youre out somewhere. probably doing something fun. you can only listen to chappie when youre doing something fun. and maybe you think that for your last night you want someone there who could be fun with you. if you asked me to, id still come. even if id get there by midnight. theres still a lot of hours left. i could come and i could bring wine and we could play games after stealing michaels tv. you wont get so drunk that you fall asleep before we can talk about something other than how cute the cat is. i don’t expect or even want something more than that. well maybe i do, but i dont want to be presumptuous. i dont want to write down the words that would make you out to be a bad person. the kind of person that would put aside promises already made and give them to someone else. but i still like to think about what would happen if you did. putting it in words would be just as bad as crying in front of you. why dont you love me too?

instead of that. you could come here. mere hours before youre with her and gone. its only two hours out of the way. i know because i looked. and maybe youd come here and say you know maybe ill hang around for a while. you could meet my cat and we could talk about how cute he is. and maybe i can convince you to come away with me. just for the night. i think im going to go anyway. if you came it would be better. and we could sit by the river and look at the yellow trees and the yellow mountains and maybe you’ll think you know i like this a lot. maybe ill stay forever.

id have to clean my house first. its been a mess since two weeks ago. when i sat down and realized youd really be gone. and that youd want to be gone. you could stay more but you wont. theres unopened packages. they have my halloween costume. what will you be doing then? i have an image in my mind of meeting someone else that night. someone would could come in and erase you. i dont think she will. even if there was someone. theyd have to dig pretty deep to uncover you. i know ill be thinking of you. theres also the books on the floor. theres no more room on the shelf. i havent yet found one that can put into words the story ive written about you. what other person could catpure the way i can see you from 100 miles. laying on the couch because youre stubborn. soon itll be more. so many more i wont want to count.

when i think about you theres one image i have. its been unlocked and locked so many times like some memory of something so unimaginably embarrassing. but its not. its so unimaginably wonderful. when you held my hand in the car. you had to reach so far to get it. i didnt understand at first but you kept held on. squeezing so hard. you didnt want to let go i was sure. i made sure. only seven minutes. i checked. to the mexican place. where i bought your dinner because you lost your phone. i remember your hand because it had a ring which i twisted and twisted and twisted. i would always look after that to make sure it was still there. the place where you let me touch. i probably wont see it again. ill never know why you did that. if it was too much zoo wine or something else. but the possibility of something else had lodged itself so deep within me that here i am months later still thinking of then. ill need to lock it back up because if i think on it too hard it just makes me sad. the not knowing. the what if. i wont ever get an answer and that fact is just too much.

god it hurts to know you are living. youre out there existing. and im not there with you a part of that life. god it fucking sucks

[hayjeon]

One Year, My Love [M] (ft. Jungkook) | pt. 1

→ historical/royal!au, marriagecontract!au, based off the kdrama 100 days My Prince; → You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year. 

→ genres: lots of fluff/plot development, a tiny bit of angst, and a little smut → 15k words | part 1| part 2 | fin.

A/N: I went on a writing binge the past couple days and I was able to finish this monster fic, and wanted to get it out for you guys so you can read during quarantine! I usually tend to write really angsty and darker fics, so I hope that the fluff in this one is really refreshing :) 

“No!” You scream, flailing your arms as the officials try to drag you into the waiting carriage. “I won’t marry him! I can’t!” 

The matchmaker looks wistfully at you as you struggle. “Please! Y/n, he is rich! He’ll pay for your debt, and you’ll avoid a punishment! I’m sure that your fiancee, ‘Jungkook’ that you speak of, doesn’t even exist! You have no one else! Just go!” 

You struggle, putting up quite a fight with the two men gripping either of your arms. “Never!” You scream, turning to bite one on his arm. He yelps and lets you go, and when his partner sees that you bit him, he throws you onto the ground, drawing his sword and whipping it at your neck. 

He huffs, “You bitch, you know that it’s the King’s decree that all women must be wed by tonight. This is your last chance to survive. Your punishment may be death, and if you want to meet that end, so be it!” 

You glare up at him, blowing the hair that fell out of your bun out of your face, “So do it! Kill me! I’d rather die than be married off to someone who’s older than my father! He’s a pig!” 

The villagers murmur. They knew of him. The rich landowner who happened to also be a government official who was heftily over sixty years of age, and well-known to have multiple concubines. If you married him, you would be his seventh. 

The official just presses his sword closer to your neck, and you feel the sharp blade dig into your delicate skin. “General Oh is being a kind man to allow a woman with age and no property wed into his household. You should be thankful!” 

“Thankful!” You scoff, laughing loudly “Ha! Thankful? To that swine who sits around all day getting fat, instead of protecting the country and his tenants like he should? His one desire is to get enough concubines so he could fuck one each day of the week! You call him a kind man? Do you not have any sisters, or a daughter? Would you ship her off to a man like that?!” 

The man hesitates, and you see him gulp. There. You’d hit a nerve. 

“Oh,” you smile slyly, “so you do have a woman close to you.” You take his moment of weakness to stand, but he still holds the sword pointed towards you. “Then you’d understand why I would rather die by your sword, than by that swine’s disgusting little dick.” 

The official’s eyes widen, but he holds his ground. “Well, if that may be it, then I have no choice but to follow the King’s decree. All men or women who refuse to be wed by tonight will be executed.” 

You hold your head high, eyeing him down with a steely gaze. “So be it.” You grit, lip curling. 

The official seems like it’s the last thing he wants to do, but everyone turns their heads or shuts their eyes as the man lifts his sword high. You lift your eyes to the sky. You’d endured quite a bit of your life, struggling to make ends meet after your parents were murdered, you’d run away and swam through the rushing rivers to escape the murderers dressed in black who’d ransacked your house and kidnapped your brother. After you were saved and adopted by your current father, your life had been one of petty thefts and begging until you’d been able to run some manual labor jobs to help pay for food and kindling for yourself and your father. Until now, it had been a hard, hard life. There was no god. But you knew one thing. You would never, ever lose your honor. And so be it, losing your life this way. 

You suck in a breath, waiting for the sword to swing down, when suddenly your father’s voice cuts through the crowd. 

“WAIT! WAAAAIIIIITTTT!” He cries, stumbling and pushing through the crowd. He tows along a man dressed in white after him. “He’s here! Her fiancee!” He lifts the hand that holds the man’s hand. The man seems as confused as you are, but the official lowers his sword. 

The matchmaker gasps. “That’s Jungkook?!” He gapes. “He exists? I thought she made him up!” 

Your father runs up to you, and you face him with a bewildered expression as he leans in close. “Just go with it,” he grits, before facing the official with a gentle smile that doesn’t match the environment of the conversation. “I’m so sorry for my daughter, she must’ve lost her mind. She has a fiancee, but he was far away. I just returned with him, and they will be wed today!” 

You whip your head to stare at the man in tow with your father. He seems beaten up; a busted lip and some bruise littering his cheek and neck. But underneath the grime he’s quite handsome, and seems to be of around your age. His eyes are round and his skin quite pale. His nose is large and regal, while his lips are round and plush. His jawline is sharp and his shoulders broad and muscular. He meets your gaze with a frown. 

The official faces you, quirking his brow. “Is this true?” 

Your panicked expression molds into a calmer one, your mind running a hundred miles a minute. “Yes,” you determine, facing him with a bold stare. “This is my fiancee. I will be wed to him.” Better the wide-eyed man than the swine. 

He faces the man. “Is what she is saying true?” 

You and the rest of the onlookers turn to the handsome man. He frowns, contemplating how your father had nursed him to health and moments ago begged him to please return the favor by marrying his daughter. He was shocked and had no time to ask questions as he’d been dragged out of bed to the town hall of this run-down village. His head still throbs, and he watches as you look at him with such determination, and your father with desperation. 

He squares his shoulders, and looks back at the official. 

“Yes. She is my fiancee.” 

Everyone seems to sigh in relief as the official nods and sheathes his sword. He signals to his comrade and they leave the premises, promising to send word to their general regarding your marriage status. He hoists himself up on the horse. “You must be wed by tonight,” he warns, and gallops away. 

The matchmaker scurries up to you both, a huge smile on his face. “So, what kind of a wedding do you want?” 

You and the man sit on the front porch. You level him with a steely gaze, your arms crossed across your chest while your dad cowers in the corner. 

“Your name?” You ask.

He glares back at you. “I don’t remember.” 

“How did you meet my father, then?” 

Your dad pipes up. “I found him when I went to go fishing. He’d been washed up on the riverbed with a nasty wound on the back of his head.” 

The both of you return to glaring at eachother. 

“Fine,” you snap, “It seems as if you and I have both...situations...that need to be solved. You don’t remember anything about yourself and where you’ve come from. I need to find a husband to marry by the end of the day or else I’ll be executed. We will forge a deal.” 

He frowns. “What are the terms? What is preventing me from just running away?” 

You spread out a scroll, dipping your brush into the ink as you write neatly. “Term 1. You shall be given the name, ‘Jungkook.’” 

“That’s the name that I lied was of my fiancee.” You explain, “Since you seem to not remember your own name, that shall be the name at least until you remember yours, that you are called by.” He watches you write in silence. 

“Term 2. I will nurse you back to health. If you decide you don’t want this, you will die of starvation, mugging, or of your wounds. We are the only chance you have at regaining your memory and returning to your previous life.” 

You watch as his expression remains unchanging. He had an impeccable pokerface. 

“Term 3. We will be wed for 1 year. Whether your memory has returned or not, the year must be fulfilled in order to satisfy the decree of the King. After the given time, when the flowers of the Spring begin to bloom, you may go on your way, and I will go on mine.” 

He frowns at you. “What will happen in that time?”

You shrug, watching the villagers scurry about, preparing food and decorations for your wedding. “I will nurse you back to health and we must maintain the state of the house and act as a married couple. There is not much else. It is the least you can repay to my father for saving your life.” 

He nods. “Keep going.” 

You lean down to write down the final term. “Term 4. You will speak to no one of this truth, and this contract will stay within the walls of this house and be known by the parties present: you, myself, and my father.” 

He sighs, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the contract. “You misspelled ‘myself’” he mutters. 

You stare up in shock. “You know how to read?” 

He seems to be surprised at your question. “Yes?” 

You straighten up. “Well, if you know how to read, then you must be from an affluent family. Ever the more reason to continue to try and regain your memories.” 

“And you?” 

You still, pausing at his question. There was no way he would understand what you’ve been through, why you were here now. You clear your throat, “I-I just picked it up. It’s a skill that I needed to learn to survive.” 

He doesn’t reply, and so you clear your throat again, turning the contract towards him. “Do you agree to these terms?” 

He surveys the script for a bit longer, and then nods. “I agree to these terms.” He dips his thumb in the ink and presses it down into the paper, and then takes the brush to write neatly on the bottom next to yours. 

Jungkook. 

The marriage ensues quickly, your surprised villagers preparing a last minute celebration of sorts. You borrow the matrimonial robes from your neighbor, Jisoo, who was wedded last week and has yet to return it to her lender, and Jungkook is able to borrow the matching set. 

In order to meet the deadline, your town decides to skip all the formalities and boil down the ceremony to just a fraction of the normal festivities. The matchmaker has put on his officiator’s clothes for the final time, and asks you the question. “Do you, y/n of this town, agree to marry and cherish this man, Jungkook, for the rest of your life, through sickness and in health?” 

You meet the eyes of Jungkook. He’s cleaned up quite nicely, your father helping him bandage up his wounds better and washing himself so he’s no longer caked in dirt and dried blood. His hair is re-tied into the tall bun on his head and the ceremonial silk hat placed on his head, adorned with beautiful beads. His robes are a beautiful royal blue. 

You weren’t really a liar. You were known to say it as it is. Your mouth had gotten you in quite a lot of trouble growing up. But this is the one time you knew you had to life. In order to survive. You would not cherish this man. You didn’t even know him. It would only be a marriage of a year. 

“I do.” You reply. 

The matchmaker smiles. “And do you, Jungkook,” he declares, turning, “take y/n, agree to marry and cherish this woman for the rest of your life, through sickness and in health?” 

He watches you, dressed in bright, red silk robes traditional for a bride and hair pulled into a large updo and adorned with a traditional wedding headpiece. “I do.” He states. 

Everyone erupts in cheers, your father being the loudest of them all. The matchmaker declares, “Then, with the power vested in me, I declare that Y/n and Jungkook are now married! Our city has completed the decree!” 

The villagers burst into music and dancing, women ushering forward with plates of food that they’d just cooked, and the fattest pig’s meat was brought forward with jugs of rice wine to share. You and Jungkook left the premises to change out of your clothes, in order to not get them dirty. 

Jisoo helps you undress and get into your regular clothes. “Jungkook is quite handsome, don’t you think?” She smiles, folding the silk neatly into its box. “You’ve found quite a fiancee.” 

You smile weakly, tying the knot in your shirt. 

“He doesn’t talk much, though, does he?” She ponders aloud, helping you get the pins and the headdress out of your hair. “I love that Eunwoo is a talker. He’s quite expressive, which matches me.”

You hum, erasing the makeup off your face. “Yes, you and your match are quite the pair. You got lucky, Jisoo.” 

She blushes, sighing dreamily. “I still can’t believe I was matched with him. He’s amazing.” 

You chuckle. “I’m sure he thinks the same of you.” 

You catch your gaze in the mirror. The day was full of events, but your face looks haggard and sad. You wonder if you’d ever be able to find someone who thinks so of you. 

Jisoo cherps up. “Oh right, during your wedding, I don’t know if you heard, but there was an official announcement that the Crown Prince Jeon has died.” 

You perk up at the news. “What? Wasn’t he the one who decreed this whole marriage law?” 

She nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, seems like it was a political move to try and increase the population. Quite a move, in my opinion. He would’ve made a fine king. But there are rumors he was assassinated.” 

Frowning, you help her pack up the dress. “The royals are never the type to ever care about people like us. Whether the Crown Prince took the throne or his little brother, it doesn’t matter. They would never make things better for us.” 

Jisoo shrugs. “You never know.” 

When she leaves the room, you think to yourself. If the Crown Prince was the one who’d decreed the nationwide marriage law, and if he was now suddenly dead, there was a chance that the law would be appealed. 

When you and Jungkook get a moment alone, you pull him aside where no one is listening. “We need to think of a plan.” 

He pulls his arm out from where you hold him. “Don’t touch me, how dare you place your hands on me?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his haughty language. “If anyone asks you, we met at the field where the yellow flowers bloom. It was there that you fell in love with me, and asked for my hand in marriage a few years ago. Until now, you were deployed far away as a warrior, and now have returned due to your injuries in battle. That is the story that you must tell the villagers until this is over. Am I clear?” 

He huffs, crossing his arms. “Fine.” 

You frown at him. “What is wrong now?” 

He turns from you. “I wanted to keep those clothes on,” he murmurs, and you frown and tip your ear closer to him. “What?” 

“I wanted to keep the robes on,” he mutters, and you follow his gaze to where Jisoo and Eunwoo return the ceremonial robes back to the kind vendor who’d lent it to them. 

You scoff. “Why? They’re ceremonial robes.” 

“They were quite comfortable. I hate these scratchy clothes your father has put me in.” You finally take a step back to look at him. You giggle. You recognize the outfit, it was one your father had worn years ago and had gotten to fat to fit in anymore. The hemp fits neatly on Jungkook’s shoulders, but he cringes as the scratchy and stiff fabric rubs against his skin. 

You roll your eyes, slapping him. “Don’t be a little baby.” His eyes widen at your actions. “How dare you!” He bellows, “Never put your hands on me, woman!” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “So you are from a rich family, huh? You know how to read, you prefer silk clothing, and you talk like a spoiled little brat. Well, look, Jungkook. Here in the village, we work with the sweat on our backs to make money, and with that money we buy food. Hear that? Food. We don’t go around, and waste our money on things like silk. Instead, we walk into the forest, gather heaploads of grass and weave them together to create this fabric. And only after that’s finished, we sew them together by hand, and wear it for years. Do you understand?!” 

Your voice has gotten quite loud in the rant, and his eyes widen and he seems to shrink a little under your anger. 

Huffing at him, you jam a finger into his chest. “And finally, you never, ever call a lady ‘woman’! That is the language of those rich swines who treat others below them like trash. Here in this village, you treat others with respect, and kindness. I’m not sure if you learned that in your previous cushy lifestyle, but it’s something you need to learn to survive here. Got it? Or else, I’ll kill you, and kill myself after!” 

His eyes go impossibly wide at the last statement and he cowers from you, neck shrinking into his shoulders as he stutters. “O-o-okay, no need to get violent. Jeez.” 

You toss your neck, marching away towards the festivities, smiling. This was going to be a piece of cake. 

Settling into your new home is easy. Your villagers help to build a new section on your square of land, in order to create a private separate section for you and Jungkook. Although he seems complains through most of it, he helps you, your father, and the rest of the villagers plummage through the forest for wood and timber, and carries it back all the way and helps the rest of the men build the structures. 

The room that is eventually built is large enough to house the both of you comfortably, and the ladies in your town had graciously gifted you a set of beautiful blankets for you to share. 

You and Jungkook stare down at the set of blankets neatly laid down with two pillows, side by side. 

“There is absolutely no way that I will sleep in the same bed as you,” he declares. “I will take the new blankets. You may sleep in that corner as to not collect suspicion from the villagers regarding our marriage.

You gape at him. “Seriously? You’re saying that I should sleep on the cold, hard floor while you get the cushy new blankets? A man should be offering the better position to the woman!” 

He frowns at you. “You are to me neither a wife nor a woman. It is only through our agreement that you are somewhat a partner to me, and nowhere in the contract is it states that I must betray my comfort for your convenience.” 

You roll your eyes, and you argue back and forth until you’re about to rip your hair out. 

“Ugh, fine!” You yell, throwing open the closet doors as you fish out your old blankets. You throw them in the corner, and settle in them as you see Jungkook happily skip over to his set and pull the covers all the way up to his chest with a content smile. 

Despite the villagers’ generosity and their help with everything, the extra mouth that you need to feed begins to take a toll on you and your father’s expenses after a few weeks. Before the wedding, you had been making just enough to feed yourself and your father. You’d run odd jobs, such as deliveries or serving food at a local restaurant while your father worked as a carpenter. But Jungkook ate and ate and ate. 

You and your father watch in disgust as Jungkook gobbles down the entire plate of food you’d prepared in minutes. Initially, you’d fought about the food, too. 

“What is this?!” He exclaims, holding up the fish you’d cooked with his chopsticks in disgust, “This tiny monstrosity?! I’ve never even seen a fish this small!” 

You’re unimpressed as you continue to shovel the plain rice that you’d made today into your mouth. “Shut up and eat what you’re given,” you mutter. But he doesn’t stop. 

“I demand that you bring me meat. Like from the wedding! Little did I know that you people eat these insect-looking despicable dishes, if I knew, I would not have agreed!” He continues to rant until you’re fed up too. 

You grab your chopsticks, whipping them up and snatching the fish from his. In one mouthful, the fish is shoved into your own mouth and gulped down. He watches you in shock. You snatch his bowl of rice as well, emptying it into your mouth as you chew loudly and quickly, washing it down with a cup of water. After you swallow, you burp loudly, and smile at him. 

“If you don’t want to eat it, then don’t!” You drop the smile and clear the dishes, throwing them in the sink. 

“What about my dinner?!” He cries, “I just spent the whole day lugging heavy wood on my back, and this is what I’m given?!” 

You sneer back, “Then learn to eat what’s given, Jungkook!” 

After that fiasco, he’d never complained about your food again. But now the problem was, he ate too much. 

“May I have one more?” He says, holding his empty bowl out to you, and you gawk at him. 

“That’s your third bowl, Jungkook. We don’t have any more.” 

He frowns, swallowing his food and pouting. “I want more food, though.” 

You roll your eyes. “If you’re going to eat so much, then get a job! We need to continue to pay rent and you sitting around here all day is doing nothing!” 

He shakes his head. “I refuse. Although I can’t remember much, what I do remember is that I have never been forced to do any sort of labor. And that won’t change now either.” 

You face him with a sly look. “If you don’t work, then I won’t make you food. It’s simple.” 

He drops the haughty expression. “Fine. What can I do?” 

You start off with the easy stuff. Eunwoo gets Jungkook a job as a water carrier for the town. They had to climb the mountains afoot with a yoke centered on their shoulders, either side hung with a heavy clay pot that was to be filled with the clean upstream river water and then returned to the towns people. 

Jungkook pants and huffs as he climbs the hills. He feels the burn in his thighs, but he grits his teeth at the thought of being able to eat some more good food. He’d admit, although the ingredients that you worked with were less than amazing, the way you’d learned to pair them with specific vegetables that you grew personally in the yard or with spices that you’d created yourself had created in him quite an appetite for the food that you made. 

He follows in Eunwoo’s footsteps as the road gets less steep and they pause to take a breather. Eunwoo wipes his sweat with a smile. 

Jungkook mutters, “How are you so happy all the time?” 

Eunwoo leans on a rock as he passes his smaller jug of water over to Jungkook. “How can I be unhappy? I have a beautiful wife, a house to live in, and a series of jobs that bring in enough money for me to be fed. What more should I desire?” He turns to Jungkook. 

Jungkook silently hands over the jug. “Wouldn’t you want a bigger house, some better clothes, or to move into a town that’s better than this one?” 

Eunwoo laughs. “I suppose for someone like you who’s been to the military as a warrior, you were paid quite nicely and given great amenities, but I was born humble and plan to die humble. Jisoo is one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been granted as a man, and I plan to live fruitfully and responsibly so that I may provide for her and treat her as she deserves to be treated.” 

Jungkook follows Eunwoo’s suit as he stands and picks up the jugs again on his shoulders. Do I feel that way about y/n? Is it wrong that I don’t have any of that for myself towards her? 

His thoughts are cut off when Eunwoo calls out, “We’re almost there! Just ahead, you can hear the brook!” 

Jungkook almost jumps for joy when he arrives at the riverbed, the brook babbling brightly as the clear water streams downhill. He and Eunwoo laugh as they use the cold, fresh water to clean off their hands and faces of sweat, and begin filling their jugs with the water. The creek is beautiful; there are trees overcast that slightly give some shade, while still giving way to the bright blue sky overhead. There are a few birds that chitter and jump from tree to tree while Jungkook and Eunwoo take a breather. There are some beautiful yellow flowers that stud the other bank across the river. Jungkook wonders if maybe that may lead to the yellow flower fields where you’d told him to say you two met. 

Both of them grunt as they feel the weight of the water weighing down on their shoulders, but don’t say a word as they begin the trek down the mountain. 

Suddenly, Eunwoo pauses, and Jungkook stops. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Eunwoo tips his head as he looks around, listening for sounds. “Wait a second, someone is coming.” 

Like clockwork, Jungkook suddenly hears the distant sound of horses galloping, and they continue toward the sound until they can hear the small group of officials approaching them. 

“Halt!” One of them calls, and when he dismounts from his horse, Jungkook can see that it was the official that had once threatened you a few weeks back, before the wedding. 

“Oh, Jungkook, I see!” The official recognizes, and Jungkook dismounts the jugs from his shoulders to face the official. “I see you’re now a married man, and working hard to provide for the missus at home, yes?” 

Jungkook nods solemnly. 

“Well, we are just checking the premises for intruders. We’ve heard that there have been some muggings in the vicinity, so be on your merry way. Just be careful.” The official smiles and gets on his horse, signaling for the others to follow. As they gallop off, Jungkook narrows his eyes at the emblem engraved on the base of the official’s sword. 

Suddenly, he feels a sharp pain in his head. 

A rustle sounds from near him, and then a shout, and then aching pain in his shoulder. A sword is pointed at him, and he is able to just catch the emblem engraved on the hilt before it’s raised high and whipping towards him.

The flashback ends and Jungkook yells out a strangled cry as he falls towards the ground. 

Eunwoo takes off his yoke and runs back towards Jungkook, shocked and yelling, “Jungkook! Jungkook! Are you alright? Can you hear me?! Jungkook!” 

Jungkook can only see a glimpse of the blue sky above him before everything goes black. 

You’re at home, weaving some baskets as a job from the lady at the market when suddenly you hear distant shouts and galloping. Frowning, you drop the basket and make your way over to the gate of your house, peering over the wood to see what the commotion is all about. But the sound continues to approach, and to your surprise, you see government officials approaching with Jungkook on the back of a horse. 

Eyes widening, you throw open your gate and walk up to the official whom you recognize to be the one who’d dealt with you before. 

He gets off his horse, and Eunwoo dismounts another as they both carry Jungkook into your home. 

“What’s wrong?! What’s wrong with him?!” You cry, and Eunwoo looks at you worriedly. “I don’t know! We were carrying water back to the village when suddenly he starting screaming and then fell to the ground unconscious! Thankfully the officials were nearby when he did, so they were able to bring us back.” 

There’s a crowd of people waiting in your gate entrance, trying to peek at what’s going on. You turn to the official. 

He eyes you, “I remember you. I see that you’ve followed the law and gotten married. I’m sorry that I had to bring your husband in like this. My name is Jimin.” 

You shake your head. “It’s fine, what’s wrong?” 

Jimin shrugs. “I believe that it may be an affect of overwork? I’m not sure. You may need to consult a doctor if he doesn’t wake up soon.” 

You scoff, “He hasn’t worked before! How can it be of overwork?!” 

He shrugs again. “It is up to you, madame, but please do keep in mind that the jugs he was using were broken when he fell, and so you know owe the town money to make up for the loss.”

Your shoulders sag at the comment as the official rides away with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m just doing my job.” 

You nod at him, smiling weakly. “I understand. Thank you, sir.” 

He tips his hat to you, and before he rides away says, “You know, I’ve never met someone like you before. You remind me a lot of someone I used to know. I believe you and your husband will get through this. Good luck.” 

He rides off and you return to your room as the rest of the villagers disperse. Sighing, you sit next to Jungkook’s sleeping figure and check his pulse and put your finger under his nose to make sure he’s still breathing. Although his wounds from before had healed, he had another fresh scratch on his cheek now, you assume from the fall. 

Blinking back tears, you find some clean rags and begin cleaning the cut, gently placing a bandage on it. 

There was no god. There was no such thing as luck. You had just nearly escaped death by marrying a man you didn’t even know, and now you were in more debt than ever. This wasn’t easy at all. You wipe away tears of frustration as you watch Jungkook sleep, and eventually the exhaustion from the day becomes too much as you close your eyes too. 

Jungkook wakes up to a dark room, and a searing pain in behind his eyes. Wincing, he groans as he turns his head to the side, and stops when he sees you curled up next to him on the cold floor. You have one arm tucked underneath your head and your knees are curled up towards your chest in a form of warmth. He glances to your side to see that the first aid kit of bandages had been opened and a bowl of water and rags for his forehead. 

He turns to his side, the headache a little duller as he focuses on your features. You were quite beautiful, he thinks to himself. Not a traditional, eye-catching beauty like Jisoo’s, but a simple kind of beauty that shone through in moments like these. 

Now that you’re sleeping and not frowning or yelling at him, he sees that your eyes are quite soft, your brows framing them nicely and your skin quite smooth. Your lips soft-looking and your cheeks quite supple. You were quite cute, he thinks to himself with a slight smile. 

You seem to be having nightmares, as you suddenly shudder in your sleep and frown, a deep line setting in between your brows. He reaches out, pressing a thumb lightly to the space, and immediately, your expression softens, as you subconsciously inch closer for some warmth. He takes the blanket that’s placed over him and throws it over you, and faces you as you curl into the warmth. 

He reaches out a hand and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. The headache no longer bothers him anymore. 

You wake up to the sounds of the rooster crowing and some kind of weight on your chest. When you open your eyes, the first thing you see is the face of Jungkook, and the second thing you notice is that you’re only inches away from him, his arm thrown over your shoulders as you’re cuddled up to his torso. 

With a yelp, you jump back, and that seems to wake him up. “What are you doing?!” You yell, covering your chest with your arms. “Why are we sleeping together?!” 

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and faces you with a funny expression. “You’re the one who fell asleep here next to me.” 

You frown, reaching out a putting a hand on his forehead. He slaps it away and you recoil with an eyeroll. “Are you feeling okay?” You ask, looking into his eyes to make sure he’s okay. 

He frowns. “Why am I here?” 

You sigh, leaning back against the wall. “You fell, remember? You fainted while carrying back jugs of water.” 

He frowns again, hands raking over his face. “Yes, I think I remember now...” 

You scoff. “Did you do it on purpose?” 

He turns towards you with an incredulous look. “Excuse me?” 

Crossing your arms, you face him with a hard look. “You’ve been complaining about labor ever since the day we got married. Don’t think for a second that I believe you actually passed out up there. You were fine when carrying down wood for the house. Why did you suddenly faint? You pretended so that you wouldn’t have to work, right?!” 

He faces you with wide eyes that have a tinge of anger. You’ve never seen him with that expression before. “How dare you accuse me of pretending to faint! I had a sudden headache and then I felt myself lose balance, how could you--” 

“Oh, you felt yourself lose balance? Huh?” You mock him, “Well look where it’s gotten us. You may have spent the whole day resting, but you’ve gotten us twenty more nyangs in debt than we already are, especially since you’ve already wasted all our savings on your goddamned food!” 

You stand, gathering the first aid kit and the bowl of water. Glaring back at him, you mutter, “I should have just died back then,” and slam the door shut behind you. Jungkook sighs, raking his hand over his face. 

First it was the random memory, and then now, this. It was far from over. 

For the next few days, Jungkook can’t seem to find you. You’ve completely disappeared, and no matter who he asks, he can’t seem to figure out where you’ve gone. Even your father is as confused as he is. 

Jungkook mutters to himself as he tries his best to figure out how the stove works, as it seems your father has no idea either. This week had been particularly tough, as Jungkook had to figure out when to water the plants, go get the water from the stream again with Eunwoo, clean the stables, retreive eggs from the chickens without getting his eyes clawed out, and prepare meals for himself and your father in the meantime. His back hurt like crazy, and he’d also almost gotten kicked in the arm earlier by accidentally trying to milk a male cow. He was absolutely at his wits’ end. 

Eunwoo stops by with a sheepish smile. “Jisoo offered to prepare you some fried cakes, would you like some?” Jungkook graciously accepts and Eunwoo sits next to your father as Jungkook continues muttering to himself, trying to put more kindling into the fire underneath the iron stove and poking it with a stick. “Just wait a little longer friend,” Eunwoo calls out, “Jisoo is returning soon from the market and said she’d stop by.” 

Finally, she arrives, with a big smile on her face and a package of some sorts. She greets her husband with a shy kiss. Jungkook watches as they giggle into the kiss, before Jisoo breaks apart and bounds over to Jungkook and revealing what she has. Jungkook almost falls into the fire when he sees what she’s holding. 

“Oh my! Get that out of my face!” He cries, falling backward and scrambling away from the thing. 

She frowns, “But Jungkook, you’ve been asking for fish ever since you got here. I found some fresh bass for you, for a great price at the market! We can finally have some good fish tonight!” 

Jungkook frowns at the slimy thing. It’s still alive, gills gaping for air as its eyes bulge ugly out its head and its tail still squirming about. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds back a gag. “I think I’m gonna be sick,” he wheezes. 

Jisoo rolls her eyes. “Can you prepare it so that I can cook it? Usually the men do that here.” 

Jungkook shakes his head no, and Eunwoo sighs, standing up and approaching them. “Here, let me help,” he says, crouching down next to the both of them and demonstrating as he retreives the kitchen knife from the counter, the same knife Jungkook had spent the entire afternoon looking for. 

He smiles at Jungkook, ever still the innocent one. “First, you have to kill it the most painless way possible, while removing the blood. You take the blade, place it under here, where the neck meets the body, and---” 

The moment Eunwoo slices the fish, Jungkook passes out again. 

“Jungkook, Jungkook!” Jisoo shakes him awake, sighing at his form. “You fainted again. But in the meantime, Eunwoo and I prepared some food for you. Hopefully you’re okay with seeing fish in an edible form. Come eat.” 

Jungkook joins them on the table and carefully lifts the table cover, sighing in relief when instead of a live fish, he sees Jisoo’s carefully cooked dinner waiting for him to eat. “Oh thank god,” he mutters, picking up his chopsticks. He happily thanks her, digging in and smiling at the taste. 

One thing he notes, is that Jisoo tends to oversalt her fish. He thinks to himself that he quite misses your cooking. 

“So Jisoo, what brings you here?” He asks, and she looks up at him with a confused expression. 

“Y/n asked me to cook you guys a meal or two while she was gone. She didn’t tell you?” 

Jungkook frowns. “I have no idea where she’s gone. I thought she’d run away because she didn’t want to have me for a husband.” 

Jisoo laughs. “No, she’ll be back. She didn’t tell me what she was doing, but she often disappears once every month for a couple days. In fact, I think that’s her coming!” 

She stands and all the men’s eyes follow as Jisoo runs to the gate, and you return, dressed in the most beautiful gown Jungkook has ever seen you in. 

It’s a beautiful soft pink, adorned with flowers and he watches you in awe as you put on a big smile and throw your arms around Jisoo in greeting. You greet your father, and when you meet his eyes, Jungkook perks up, putting on a tiny smile as he expects you to return the smile. 

But instead, you frown and just greet Eunwoo, ignoring Jungkook as you stalk back out of the gate. Jungkook jumps up, running over to follow you. 

“Where have you been!” He demands, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. He’s breathing heavily, and his brows are furrowed as he continues to yell. “What kind of a wife leaves her husband for days without telling him where she’s gone! Did you know how worr--” He cuts himself off, blinking at his own words. 

You frown at him. “You were worried?” You cock your head at him, and he clears his throat. 

“No,” he blurts, glaring at nothing in particular. “It made me very.....uncomfortable.” 

You roll your eyes, yanking your arm out of his grip. “You make me quite uncomfortable too, got that? Because of your stupidity, I had to go work on a job for a few days to earn enough money to pay off those jugs that you broke, and made a little more to feed us for the next couple of days.” 

He frowns, “Why would you do that?” 

You give him a scoff. “Seriously? Of course I have to do this, you don’t want to work, my father isn’t making any money right now, and we’re in debt. What do you mean why?” 

“I thought you’d left me,” he says, blinking up at you and instead of the angry expression he was sporting earlier, he seems a bit softer now, a bit poutier even. 

You sigh, “Unfortunately, I can’t just up and leave because we have a contract to uphold.” 

He tugs at your skirt. “Where did you get these nice clothes?” 

Turning, you give him a smile, and Jungkook has to keep himself from smiling back. “Aren’t these beautiful? They were a gift!” 

He frowns. “A gift? From who?” 

“The general.” 

Jungkook’s fist tightens. “The general? You mean the man who you refused to marry? The work you did was for him?” 

You purse your lips. “I know how it sounds, but despite the obvious pervertedness, he still has quite an influence on our town and the only way to make enough money to cover the jugs that you broke was to help serve food at his birthday celebration.” 

Jungkook grits his teeth. “Is that why you’re wearing makeup?” 

You’re shocked that he noticed. Earlier today, one of the other waitresses that you’d been working with had offered the girls some of her own blush and lipstick, saying that when you wore some color, the officials were more likely to give bigger tips. And she was right. You’d earned enough to feed your family for a month and to cover Jungkook’s mistake. 

Shrugging, you nod. “Yes?” 

The angry expression sets in his features again. “You shall not wear makeup for that man again. This is an order.” 

You laugh at his words. “What? Are you seriously ordering me around? Why, are you jealous or something?” 

He frowns. “If these emotions running through me right now are called being ‘jealous,’ then so be it. I hate the thought of that man looking at you with makeup on and a beautiful dress and giving you money thinking that it might be a way for him to get his disgusting hands on you. You are my wife!” 

You’re shocked at his outburst, your mind completely going blank. You do what you do best, which is to bark back a retort. “Well, I wouldn’t have had to do this if it weren’t for you--” 

Jungkook leans in, cutting you off with a searing kiss. He does’t quite remember if he’s had any experience with any other women, but his body seems to recognize this. He just didn’t know how else to shut you up. He holds your waist close as he leans into you, your smell enveloping his senses as he opens his mouth to slot his lips in between yours. 

You fall silent, eyes wide as he steps closer and his tongue flicks against your lower lip quickly before he detaches from you. He first smirks at your shocked expression, and presses his lips together. “Mm,” he comments, “tastes sweet.” At your horrified expression, he leans in to wipe the corner of your mouth, successfully erasing the remnants of the color left on your lips. 

“There we go,” he quips. And leans back. When you take a breath to yell out whatever curses there are in the world at him, he stops you and goes first. 

“We may be in a contract marriage, but Term 3 clearly states that we must uphold the appearances in order to look like a married couple. You shouldn’t act like you’re single in front of that pervert in order to make up for my mistakes. For what you did I’m grateful, and I owe you a debt, but in the future, I’d like it if you would not submit yourself to those things. You are above those things.” 

You watch him silently as he continues. “Let me find out what kind of work I can do. I do not want you to be hurt anymore or have to worry about money again. I will uphold my part of the agreement.” 

He turns and walks back into the house as you watch in shock. 

You press a hand to your chest. What was this fluttering feeling for? 

Spring fades into summer as the two of you continue on living. Jungkook continues to work odd jobs here and there, and manages to make enough money to support the three of you comfortably. You’re able to start patching up the holes in the roof and the stables, and buy new clothes for yourself and Jungkook to wear comfortably. You two never speak of the kiss again, but you find that the both of you settle into a comfortable pattern of life and work. 

Towards the end of the season when the days seem to start getting cooler, one of the marketplace workers notices how hard Jungkook works, and offers him a job at the local bookstore. You and Jungkook squeal in delight at the amount that he’s making, and later to more delight, discover that he can also make much, much more transcribing books by hand for the local bookstore. So in the mornings, Jungkook goes and helps as a bookkeeper, and returns later in the afternoon to eat his dinner and the both of you work on transcribing books together. 

He teaches you to write better. Ever since you’d run away from home as a little girl, life in the village didn’t really grant you a lot of experience to continue practicing your writing. It was good, but not great. So night after night, Jungkook patiently watches you painstakingly use the brush to transcribe the stories that were the most popular. 

Together, you’d begun from novels about dragons and fairies, and when the vendor was quite pleased with how neatly the books were written, you and Jungkook were given more tasks to do, including transcribing some political and economic books. 

As the months passed, this became sort of a routine, as you’d begun using the money now to buy better ingredients for the meals you made for him at the market. Your home had now been patched up and upgraded as best as you could, and you’d bought a few more chickens and had gifted your father a new set of clothes and warm blankets. Jungkook seemed content with his now more comfortable set of new clothes and the hefty meals you prepared. Life was beginning to settle and improve. 

Jungkook frowns as he transcribes one night, “Hm,” he muses, “The King has decreed that his next youngest son shall be the next King.” 

You scoot closer to him to read what he’s looking at. You hum, “Interesting, I wonder if that will improve anything.” 

He looks at you, “What do you mean?” 

You shrug, resuming your own transcription. “Whenever the royals shuffle amongst themselves, or the generals and officials fight for the throne, it doesn’t really seem to affect us or benefit us.” 

Jungkook frowns, staring down at the announcement he was asked to reproduce. “I read in the political books I transcribed that the morals that this country was founded upon were that the King and the government must be of the people, for the people.” 

Sighing, you stare down at the political text you’d been copying. It spoke of the same values. “I know. It would be nice if we could return to a time like that, no? But unfortunately, while people like us are struggling to make ends meet and jumping for joy at the opportunity to patch up our roof, there are the royals who sit on their throne and are planning what their next party will be like, or what country they want to conquer. We are of different worlds, and it has been ages since we’ve had a King who truly cares for the people.”

Jungkook sighs. “If I were King, I would immediately do away with those stupid parties. And those disgusting men who sit in their positions without doing anything.” 

You smile at him, “Like that pig who has six concubines?”

He laughs, “Exactly like him.” You laugh back, and Jungkook has to pause for a second, as he catches himself staring at your expression in the candlelight. 

But you see him before he can stop himself, and you ask, “What, is there something on my face?” 

Jungkook sets down his brush. “You’re quite beautiful when you smile. Why don’t you do that more often?” 

Your smile falls as you coldly return to your transcription. Jungkook curses himself for asking you a question that removed the smile from your face. He also silently returns to his work, unsure of what to say next. 

“I’m not my father’s daughter, you know.” 

Jungkook’s hand pauses in his calligraphy, but he doesn’t say anything and just looks up at you as you continue in your own writing. You don’t look up to him and continue speaking. 

“I had to run, far, far away from my real home. My parents were murdered by some people, and my brother and I hid in the forest until the men were gone. I was supposed to meet my brother on the bridge near the river, but he never came back to get me.” 

“So I ran, far away, where they can’t find me and where they gave up trying to look for me. I eventually swam down the river and was found by my father, now. And even though I return to that bridge secretly every month when the moon is at its fullest, he’s never shown for the past twenty years. Although life has gotten a little better with you, I can’t say that my life was a good one, nor will it be. I’ll always be an orphan and I’ll always be the one who lost her family. So it seems that more often than not I find myself feeling sad sometimes.” 

You feel a tear roll down your cheek. It’s been a while since you shared that with anyone. The only ones being your own father and Jisoo. Suddenly, you hear him arise from his seated position near you and in moments he’s gripping you close, cradling your head close to his chest as he hugs you. 

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs, and you feel it within his chest. The warmth is comforting, and you lift your hands to settle on his broad back. “Why do you say that you have no family? I read in a poem I transcribed that family is not defined by bloodlines nor wealth, but in the love and care we have for eachother. Your father loves you, and so do Jisoo and Eunwoo. And I am your family as well.” 

Your tears fall a little faster at that. A dull ache beats in the pit of your chest as he continues. “I am your husband. Jisoo and Eunwoo are our friends. Your father is my father-in-law. We are a family.” 

You sob louder in his arms and he murmurs more sweet words as he rocks you and shushes you. But the reason why you cry isn’t because he’s healing all your wounds, but because he’s healing your wounds with promises you know he can’t keep. 

He was your husband for only one year, and it’s already passed a few months, into the Autumn, which meant that its been halfway. He had no idea when he would regain his memories back, or who he was. For all you knew, he could be a general’s son, destined to go into glorious battles and lead his troops into war for the sake of the country. Or he could be a son of someone who works in the Castle, or a royal even. 

Anywho, whichever house he belonged to, it would be millions of times better than now, and you knew that he would leave without even a glance back. It was in anyone’s nature. 

So as he continues to make promises, you let him hold you a little longer, because you know that this will all come to an end someday. You apologize to whatever god is out there. You’d never been selfish. You’d always worked hard to feed and fend for your family. 

So you make one, single, selfish wish. 

I wish I could stay like this forever, and that he won’t leave me. 

Before the autumn ends, Jungkook returns one day with a tree.

“What the heck?!” You cry, as him and Eunwoo grunt with the effort of carrying the thing off the truck and burying it into the entrance of your home. “What are you doing?!”

Jungkook smiles, shoveling the dirt back into the roots. “I bought us a tree.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I can see that, but why?!”

He laughs, leaning on the shovel and laughing boyishly at you. “Look!”

He points up and although most of the branches have succumbed to the autumn weather and turned their leaves red and orange and yellow, you can see the buds of the flowers peeking through. Yellow flowers.

“Remember?” Jungkook says, wiping the sweat off his brow, “We met here, in the fields of yellow flowers.” He wiggles his brows at you.

Your heart sinks at the memory of the lie you’d told him to recite to others.

“Why?” You ask softly.

He softens at your expression approaching you and rubbing your arms. “Oh, don’t be sad. It was just so beautiful I wanted to put it here. I thought you’d like it. It’s our little inside secret.”

You blink away the tears. Why was he so kind? It made it harder to distinguish what was real and what wasn’t. 

Jungkook’s heart sinks when he sees you go back into the house with slumped shoulders. He really thought you would like it.

You did like it. You loved it. That was the problem. 

You’d counted the months that had passed since your agreement, and it had been more than half a year. That quickly, life had become so adjusted to having Jungkook around, you didn’t know how to distinguish what was real or not. 

But deep down, you knew that the pang in your chest everytime he smiled at you, or the worrying feeling deep in your gut everytime he arrived home late all indicated that you indeed had developed a deep sense of...emotion for your husband. 

You were just too scared to admit it was love. 

Because for you, everytime you had fallen in love or let yourself feel love, those people or things had been taken away from you. Your only wish was that Jungkook wouldn’t be taken away. But that in itself was quite the selfish wish. He really could have been betrothed to someone out there, and there might be a woman like you, waiting for her husband to return home achingly. 

You would never wish that upon someone. 

But you can’t ignore the pain that settles in your heart when you imagine Jungkook returning home to any other woman besides yourself.

Later that week, Jungkook is taking his daily walk to the bookstore, when he pauses at the sight of a woman putting out her daily goods. She seems to own a female’s clothing store, and in the front of her display, she proudly puts a series of colorful shoes that catch his eye.

He approaches the stall, and the kind lady greets him with a smile. “Looking for a present for your wife?”

He nods, “Yes. I don’t know her taste, however.”

She laughs, “My dear, you don’t know a thing about women. It isn’t what you’re buying her. It’s that you’re buying something for her at all. Tell me a little about her.”

He muses, folding his hands behind his back. “Well, she’s about yeh tall, and seems to be a healthy weight. She always has her hair up in a--”

The lady laughs again. “No, not her features. Her personality. Tell me about her.”

Jungkook pauses, blinking down at his feet as he thinks.

“Well, first, she’s very strong. Not as in she can lift heavy things, because she can’t. I know, because she asks me to do them for her and I like doing them. But she’s strong in that I’ve never met anyone else who is as confident and fearless as she is. When I first met her, she was literally staring into the eyes of her own death without blinking. I admire that. She has no fear.”

“She’s also really kind. Underneath that fearlessness, she’s very attentive. She notices what I like to eat and don’t like to eat, and sometimes when I come home in a bad mood, she’ll do her best to prepare me a nice warm bath and extra servings of food.”

“And she’s also very delicate. She may hate to think that, but I love that underneath that hard shell, is a soft inner shell that’s kind and soft and pure. I love seeing glimpses of that while living as her husband.”

Jungkook looks up at the woman as he finishes. She has a knowing smile on her face.

“Well, dear, looks like we have a man here who’s desperately in love with his wife. For you, I’d recommend these.”

She points towards a pair of beautiful pink slippers, adorned with drawings of cherry blossoms and threaded with deep maroon thread that seemed to glisten in the sun. He smiles. They would look perfect on you.

“How much?” He asks.

She laughs, putting the shoes in a package for him. “I usually try to charge a bit more in order to make some money off of the sale, but I bought these for 10 nyangs, so I only ask for 10.”

He frowns, “Are you sure ma’am? You’d be making no profit...”

She smiles, handing over the package to him. “I’m sure. You remind me of me and my husband. That’s true love right there.”

Jungkook hands over the money with a solemn expression. “True love?”

She smiles. “Yes, dear. The kind of love that makes you fearless, the kind of selfless love. A love that you would die for. You seem young so you might be of the generation that had to marry on such short notice, but I can tell by the way you talk about her that you care for her very deeply. Only men who love their wives can talk like that. I’m happy for you. Now go and give her those shoes.”

Jungkook stares at the shoes as he walks towards the bookstore.

True love? Was it true that he’d fallen for you? He tucks them into his pocket.

Needing to think about that conversation more, he keeps the shoes in the bookstore and returns home without the present.

Jungkook watches you light up when he enters the gates in the evening, and you smile at him, gesturing to the table of food you’d prepared. “Jungkook!” You exclaim, bounding up to him, “How was work?”

“Good,” he sighs, falling into step with you as you guide him to where you’ve prepared dinner. “I’m hungry,” he smiles.

You return the smile brightly, and unveil the meal you’d prepared. “I made the fried cakes you like, and the kimchi is seasoned just right today. And I found some fresh fish at the market today, so Jisoo and I bought two to prepare for you and Eunwoo. We figured we’d treat our husbands to something nice and fattening, so that when the winter comes, you have some meat on your bones.”

Our husband. He likes the ring of that.

He digs in, listening attentively as you tell him about the town gossip, and of what happened in your day, and he reciprocates, sharing stories of the strange customers that frequented the bookstore.

When he’s finished eating, you stand to clear away his dishes, but he stops you, smiling as he takes his own dishes to the basin. “I’ll clean, you should rest.”

You smile at him and watch as he turns to clean the dishes, stacking them neatly as he finishes them one by one. When he’s finished, he joins you on your porch, as you both lean against the house and watch the stars.

The lantern beautifully lights up the underside of the tree that he’d bought, and the stars against the beautiful night sky makes this a scene that takes his breath away.

The wind blows a bit colder tonight, and when he sees you shudder, he lets you lean against him as he curls an arm around you. The both of you fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the stars.

“What are you thinking about?” He murmurs, watching your face lit up by the warm candlelight as you watch the sky.

You have a small smile on your lips as you gaze. “Just about how happy I am right now. I really like the tree, I wish I told you earlier.”

Jungkook smiles, looking at you knowingly. “I thought you didn’t like it cause it was a waste of our money.”

You turn to him with wide eyes, “No, no, that’s not it.” You chuckle, “I like it very much, thank you.”

Jungkook lets you settle back into his warmth as you both continue to look at the stars. His eyes drift downward to the tree, which is fluttering slightly in the wind. The leaves are beginning to fall. His eyes continue to trail downward, and he rests on your feet, and how the hemp straw shoes that you wore were beginning to fall apart a bit at the sides.

He bites his lip. It was still a bit longer until the streets would close. Maybe he had a little bit of time.

He stands, holding a hand out to you, “Will you come with me somewhere?”

You take his hand, confusedly following as he makes a beeline for the gate. “Where are we going?  At this time in the evening?”

He doesn’t reply as he continues down the road towards the market, stalking quickly and determinedly towards the bookstore. Your cheeks flame at the fact that his hand is tightly wrapped around yours.

“Did you forget to bring some books back from the bookstore?” You ask, struggling to keep up, but when he arrives at the store, he faces you.

“Sit here,” he instructs, and you confusedly take a seat in front of the store as he unlocks the door and rummages around for something. “Aha!” He cries from inside, and you crane your neck to try and peer into the store, but he calls out, “close your eyes!” from inside.

You frown, yelling back, “Why?”

He yells back, “I’m not coming out until you promise to keep your eyes closed.”

You laugh a little, but reply, “Okay, fine!” And close your eyes.

You hear him peep out to check if you were telling the truth, and then after confirming that you were, indeed, closing your eyes as you’d promised, he shuffles out towards you.

You hear him kneel in front of you, and suddenly, he grips your ankle and takes your straw shoes off. Your eyes fly open in shock and you gasp. “What’re you doing?”

He looks up at you with a soft smile. “You broke the promise, you were supposed to keep your eyes shut.”

You frown at him. “What?”

He shakes his head a little, but grins up at you anyways. “Well since you have your eyes open, you can watch me do this.”

He peels open a paper package to reveal two dainty shoes, pink and made with the finest fabrics and thread. He gently places one of them on your foot. A weight settles deep into your chest at the way he smiles at you after he’s done.

“I wanted to buy you something meaningful, not something for the house or something we can both enjoy like the tree, but something specifically for you. I saw these on my way to work today.”

Your eyes fill with tears as you look down at the way the shoes adorn your feet. It’s been years since you’ve been able to wear shoes like these. And these were perfect. Too perfect.

This was beginning to become too perfect. It scared you like hell. 

The next morning, you wake Jungkook up with a solemn expression, and he’s immediately worried. He’s become quite sensitive to your mood changes and emotions, and he can tell by the way you speak or the way you make your way around the kitchen that you have something on your mind. 

As he eats, you take a deep breath, and speak. 

“I think you should go with my father today and visit the river where he found you.” 

Jungkook stops with a mouthful of rice. “What?” 

“You should try to find your memory soon. Maybe going to the river may trigger your memory to come back again.” 

He sets his soon spoon, looking at you with a heavy expression. “And then? If I find my memories again?” 

You stare down at your hands, lip trembling a bit at the next part. “We agreed that if you found your memory, we would revisit the contract’s terms. But I thought it would be a good idea for you to at least try.” 

Jungkook sighs, as he glares at the tree and how the leaves are beginning to fall and create a pile of dead color on the ground. He had just gotten into a routine, feeling more and more content about staying here with you. He’d even had a moment last night when he’d wanted to confess that he’d fallen in love with you, and that he was considering just continuing to live here with you. 

But it seems like you had different ideas. 

He clears his throat, finishing off his cup of water. “Good idea,” he grits, squaring his shoulders. If this was what you wanted, then he would do anything for you. 

He stands. “Thank you for breakfast, I think if we are to find out something today, we should leave as soon as possible. I’ll go next door and let father know that we’ll be leaving soon.” He leaves without another word, nor a look in your direction. 

The tear that had been balancing on your lashes finally falls. 

This was all for his own good. 

Jungkook and your father begin a trip with a couple more townspeople who are trekking up the mountains to obtain some more water for the coming cold season. The villagers bring along some donkeys and horses to help carry the heavy jugs, while Jungkook and his partner are empty handed. Their mission wasn’t to find water, it was to find the truth. 

As they walk up the winding path, Jungkook and your father fall behind a bit as your father begins explaining some things here and there. 

“This path we’re on,” he whispers to Jungkook, “Is the path that I brought you down from the river. We’re almost there.”

“Father,” Jungkook murmurs, “What was I wearing when you found me? And where did you keep me?” 

His father-in-law cranes his neck as he looks at the direction the rest of the villagers were heading in. “Follow me,” he whispers, and heads towards the fork in the road and begins climbing a different road than the group. Jungkook follows, stumbling over rocks and tree roots as they climb into a different side of the road into a small clearing, where Jungkook can see a tiny series of huts sits, made of straw and wood. 

His father-in-law climbs into one of them, and knocks politely on the door. 

Immediately, it opens to reveal a very old man, who greets you father with a stern smile, and then settles his gaze on Jungkook. 

“Oh, you’re alive!” The grandpa exclaims. Jungkook confusedly asks, “I’m sorry, how do we know eachother?” 

Your father pipes up. “This is the mountain healer. He’s the one who helped nurse you back to health when I found you nearby. Here, look, I even kept the clothes that you were wearing when I found you.” The grandpa holds out a package for Jungkook, and he frowns, holding it close. 

He gives the healer a deep bow. “Thank you very much, I owe you my life.” 

The healer laughs, clapping Jungkook on the back. “Seems like you’ve recovered very well. You look quite healthy and strong.” 

Your father chuckles, “Actually, elder, we’ve come to re-visit you to inquire of some questions. Jungkook here still hasn’t found his memory, and we believe that it’s because of his injury that he’s not able to remember where he’s from or even what his previous name is. Do you remember anything while you were nursing him back to health?” 

The elderly healer frowns, as he cocks his head. Jungkook takes a seat next to him, leaning in to hear what he has to say. 

“I remember not much, but I do recall that you did talk a lot in your sleep when you were healing. You would sometimes burst into incoherent yelling, or sometimes talk with a stern voice.” 

Jungkook leans in. “What did I say?” 

“I don’t recall much, but I do remember you talking about the ‘Road that Winds to the East,’ whatever that means.” 

Jungkook frowns and turns to your father. “Does that mean anything, father?” 

He frowns too, “Well there are only a few main roads here in these woods, and most of them I know by heart. Elder, may I borrow your map?” 

He retreieves it from a cabinet as your father continues to speaking. “Look, this road that we just came in from leads to the North. The only road that would go from the East and West would be this one. But there’s no way...” 

“Why?” Jungkook asks. 

“That’s the road that leads to and from the Castle and the Capitol.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he stares at the road that indeed winds directly from the capitol towards the forest that he was found in. He’s about to ask the elder another question when suddenly, there’s a bit of commotion outside. 

Eunwoo barges into the hut, panting heavily as he wipes his sweat away. “Jungkook! Father! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! The group said that you’d broken off from them a bit back so I borrowed a horse and came here. You need to hurry! You need to go back!” 

Jungkook stands, frowning as he helps Eunwoo take a seat. “What’s wrong?!” 

Eunwoo stares up at Jungkook with eyes full of fear. “Y/N! She’s been taken! She’s in danger!” 

You’d spent most of the afternoon blinking and wiping away tears as you wove as many baskets as you could. But the moisture in your eyes prevented you from clearly seeing the needle you were working with, so your fingers were horribly sore and swollen by the time the sun was at its highest point. 

Sighing, you lean back and close your eyes, head heavy as you think of how Jungkook might not return today. 

Suddenly, you hear your gate being thrown open, as a group of men in dark colored, torn clothes enter your property. Immediately you stand, clenching your fists. “Who are you?!” 

The men ignore you, only one glancing your way as they begin to ransack your home, ignoring your screams. You flail and beat your fists against them as they tear open the doors of your new house, throwing the closet doors open and rustling through the clothes and blankets. Another destroys the chicken coop and another kicks the doors of your father’s place open and does the same to his belongings. 

“What are you doing!” You scream, crying as the men destroy in minutes what you and Jungkook had worked tirelessly to create and repair. “Stop! How dare you!” 

The ringleader gets tired of your screams and slaps you straight across your face. The impact and the shock makes you tumble back, hand held to the burning cheek in terror. “Shut up, bitch! We’ve gotten orders from the general officer that you and your husband owe him a debt. We’re here to collect on his orders.”

You scream back in shock. “That swine? I owe him nothing! What are you talking about?! I never borrowed anything from him!” 

One of his men emerges from your bedroom, holding up the pink dress that you and the other waitresses had been gifted after the idiot’s birthday party celebration. “Sir! Look what I found!” 

The ringleader smiles nastily down at you. “So you’re lying to me, eh? How does a poor woman like you afford a dress like this? And shoes like yours?” 

You look down at the shoes on your feet, now scuffed from the dirt when he’d hit you. “They were bought with our hard earned money! We have no fault!” You rush up to him and try to wrestle the dress out of his hands, but he’s stronger than you and grips your wrists as you struggle. Suddenly, you feel a searing pain on your back and everything goes black. 

When you come to, you panic at the feeling of your hands being immobile, and then you realize that the rest of your body is bound tightly against a tree trunk with some thick rope. 

You scream, struggling against the ropes, but the ringleader from earlier comes into your line of vision, smirking nastily as he surveys how you struggle. “We sent someone to go find your husband. Either he can bring us the money, or we can just sell you off to some hostels and get the money ourselves. It’s his choice.” 

Your eyes widen. “What?! My husband?!” 

He nods. “Hopefully he’ll come. I heard that the marriage was done last minute, but hopefully he loves you enough to know that the moment he refuses to comply to our terms, it’s over for the both of you.” 

He smiles at you, his disgusting breath fanning over your face as you glare in horror at him, “In fact,” he says, tilting his head and turning around, “here someone comes.” 

You hear it too, the sound of heavy horse steps beating the ground as you see Jungkook approaching on a horse that you’ve never seen before. You scream out as soon as he stops the animal, “No! Don’t come any closer! Run!” You struggle and wriggle against the bindings as much as you can, but the men have already surrounded the horse and your husband, and Jungkook dismounts easily, facing the men with a hard glare. 

He takes one look at you and gives you a nod as you cry and struggle against the rope, but it doesn’t give much slack. He reaches up into the saddle of the horse to pull out a long bamboo stick, and immediately lunges for one of the men. 

You watch in shock as he deftly uses the stick to go nimbly for the vulnerable parts of each man, crouching under the swing of their swords and using that moment to hit the stiff bamboo against their shins or their kneecaps, or using it to knock the air out of their lungs with a hard swing to their chest or shoulders. 

Jungkook uses a tree to jump off of as he hits a man on his head, and uses the dazed burglar as leverage to kick another in the chest. In that moment though, he stumbles to the ground, and the searing pain in his head returns again. 

A rustle sounds from near him, and then a shout, and then aching pain in his shoulder. A sword is pointed at him, and he is able to just catch the emblem engraved on the hilt before it’s raised high and whipping towards him.

It was exactly the same vision he’d had when he was getting water. But this time there was more. 

He raises his gaze and sees that the one who wields the sword has a gaze so sharp and fierce, that it takes his breath away. 

In the moment of distraction, one of the burglars manages to get his sword close enough to deliver a slice on Jungkook’s bicep. He cries out, stumbling as you scream his name, but he picks himself back up and charges towards the men.

He finishes them off one by one, and you watch in amazement and horror as your husband neatly lands on the ground with all the men groaning in pain. 

You see a movement in the corner of your eye and see that the ringleader is reaching over for his sword on the ground, and you cry, “Jungkook! Look out!” 

Jungkook turns, immediately catching sight of him and runs over, kicking the sword away and flipping it up with his feet. It lands neatly in his hand and he points the tip at the ringleader’s neck with a movement so fast you hear the sound of the sword slicing the air. Jungkook frowns. “You should probably leave, and never come back, now that I have a sword in my hands. I can do much more damage with this than I did with the bamboo stick.” 

The ringleader spits a mouthful of blood, and in seconds, him and his helpers scramble out of the woods, tail in between their legs as they limp away. 

When they’re all out of sigh, Jungkook immediately turns and runs over to you, using the sword to cut away all of the ropes. As soon as your hands are free, you lunge towards him, throwing your arms around his shoulders as you sob into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, “It’s all my fault, I should have never gone to that man’s birthday celebration. I should’ve never believed him,” and Jungkook just holds you close, his large hands spanning across your back as he presses you close to him. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he whispers, and he pulls back to survey your face. He softly ghosts a thumb over the red mark on your cheek, eyebrows furrowing at the mark. “Did he hit you?” 

You nod, hand coming up to cup the sore spot. His jaw grits, “I should’ve killed him.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Please, let’s just go home. I’ll be okay. What about your arm?” Your hands grab for him, and when you push up his sleeve, you see that the cut isn’t very deep, but it bleeds nonetheless, staining his clothes. 

Your eyes widen, tears brimming as you scramble to find the hem of your dress to tear a piece of fabric away, but he stops you, your hand enclosed in his fist. He gives you a gentle smile. “I’ll be okay, wife. Don’t ruin your clothes for this, either.”  

He helps you up and onto the back of his horse, and you lean into his back, arms clasped around his waist as he leads the both of you in the direction to where home is. You mutter in his ear. “When did you learn to ride a horse? And to fight like that?” 

Jungkook frowns, “I’m not sure. When I heard you were in danger, I just took the first and fastest thing I could find, which was Eunwoo’s horse. And then when I got here...I just didn’t think.” 

You rest your head on his shoulder blade. “If you know how to write, how to read, fight, and horseback ride, you must have been from an affluent family.” 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. He now realizes that in the hurry to get back to you, he’d dropped the package that contains the clothes he was found in. He hopes that either your father or Eunwoo had enough sense to bring it back home with them. He makes a different turn with the horse than the one you’re used to. 

“Where are we going?” 

He turns back to smile at you. “Do you trust me?” 

He rides for a little bit until he arrives at a meadow, and your eyes go wide at the scene. It’s the field of yellow flowers. Now that the autumn is almost over, the summer wild flowers are now receding from their full bloom, and the fields are now a beautiful golden color as the green begins to fade away into  a beautiful beige and yellow golden field. You gasp as Jungkook helps you dismount, and you marvel at the beautiful scene against the backdrop of the beautiful sunset. Everything was golden. 

His voice sounds from behind you. “You told me to tell others that you and I fell in love here in these fields.” 

You nod, still staring at the scene. “It was always a dream of mine, to fall in love in these fields. They’re absolutely beautiful.” 

You hear his footsteps approach, and he stands in front of you, in his beauty. “Can’t it become true?” 

Your eyes widen as your mouth drops slightly. “What? What are you talking about?” 

He reaches for your hand. “Today I realized, that that I am in love with you. At first, I wasn’t sure. I thought they might be feelings of filial love, out of duty or just a camaraderie from spending the past few months with you. But today, when I dropped everything in order to come for you, and when I saw you tied up to that tree with that bruise on your face, I couldn’t think or see anything. I knew that I had to save you. If it meant dying, then I knew in that moment that I would die fighting to protect you.” 

Your tears fall as your breath gets caught in your throat. He just smiles down softly at you. 

“Would it be so terrible, if we actually did fall in love in these fields?” He whispers, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Would it be so far from your dreams if I were to continue to be your husband?” 

You shake your head, and whisper, “No,” you hiccup, “it would be absolutely perfectly perfect,” before he leans down and captures your lips in his. 

Unlike the kiss you had earlier in the spring, this one is hungry, and desperate. He holds you to him like you might fade away, and his lips hungrily swipe across yours as if its a declaration, a mark of his true dedication to you. Your tears fall and he easily swipes them away with his thumbs as you clutch him and press yourself up against him as close as you can, breathing in his scent, feeling him, perfectly lined up against you. 

You both return and deal with the hysterics of your father, Eunwoo, and Jisoo. Some of the villagers have come to help you repatch the things that the burglars destroyed, and after they’re finished, the moon is high into the air and most of everything back to normal. You would have to pay to get some things re-done and patched up, but the selfless villagers had done more than enough to help you and Jungkook. 

While you and Jisoo go aside to prepare some dinner for everyone who helped, your father pulls Jungkook aside. 

“Here,” he says, handing Jungkook the paper package. “I brought this to give to you.” 

Jungkook thanks him as he stares meaningfully down at the package. Your father peers at him, “Aren’t you going to open it? What you were wearing might hold an important clue to who you were before all of this.” 

Jungkook smiles, clutching the package in his fist. “No, father.” He leads him over to the campfire in the center of the yard, and tosses the paper package into the flames. Both men watch as the package burns quickly, the sparks flying into the night sky. Jungkook murmurs only loud enough for your father to hear. “I would rather live as Y/n’s husband happily, than to go back to a past that I might not be as happy in.” He turns to the elder. “Father, I would like to ask for your daughter’s hand.” 

The elder man laughs, staring and sighing up at the sky. “My dear boy, I’ve thanked the gods every single day that you were the one I found. Even though it was only meant for a year, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy.” At those words, the two of them look over to you, who’s happily serving dishes to everyone who’d volunteered to help, laughing and smiling and drinking with them as they cheer and dig into the hefty dinner. 

Your father grips Jungkook’s hand in his. “All I ask is that you cherish her. She deserves it.”

Jungkook smiles. “I know, father. She does deserve it.” 

From the side, Eunwoo notices that Jungkook and your father murmuring to themselves quietly before joining the dinner table. When he returns from using the restroom, he sees something golden glinting within the glowing embers of the fire. 

Later that evening, after all the guests had left and your father had fallen asleep, you draw Jungkook a bath after you’d washed up yourself, and you wait as you stare up at the stars on your porch. 

Suddenly, you feel arms wrap around you from behind, and your soft gasp turns into a giggle as Jungkook presses his lips to your neck, tickling you. “Are you all done?” You whisper, and he nods, snuggling in closer to you. Your cheeks turn incredibly hot as you realize he’s not wearing a shirt and the arms around you and the chest pressed against you are bare. 

Your eyes drift down, and catch sight of the cut from earlier on his bicep. Turning in his embrace, you press a light kiss against his chin. “I need to dress your injury,” you say, and he glances down at it as if he’d forgotten, and you follow him into your bedroom. 

The candlelight does nothing to hide the hotness of your cheeks as he stares at you deeply as you clean and dress the wound. Once you’re all finished, you’re already breathing heavily under the heaviness of his gaze, and when you look up at him through your lashes, he smiles at the look on your face and leans in to press his lips against yours. 

They press against your mouth, letting you relax into him, and then he grips your waist, hoisting you up onto his lap as you gasp into the kiss. He takes that moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, licking softly against yours and tasting you as you steady yourself with hands on his bare shoulders. 

His hands grip you through your dress, but they drift upwards to where your top is, undoing the ribbon there easily and casting away the top layer. You pant as he leans in to press his lips against your neck and chest, the only thing you can hear right now is the flickering of the fire outside, the soft puckers of his lips against your skin, and the heavy pants you let out at the way his lips make your mind go completely blank. 

He peels back the white layer of your underdress, your breasts falling out from the constrictive material and his hands come to cup them worshippingly, his lips immediately kissing the soft skin there and then lowering to capture a nipple and suck lightly. 

You gasp and cry out at the sensation, feeling a wetness pool in between your legs at the sensation and grip the hair at the nape of his neck, pressing his heat closer to you. “Please,” you pant, “I can’t wait.” 

He chuckles against your skin, pulling back to smile up at your exasperated expression. “You’re so beautiful, I want to savor this,” he mutters, a hand coming up to tug your hair out of the bun you always wore it in, and the locks tumble out across your back. He threads his fingers through them softly, look at the view of you perched naked on his lap, trembling and lit up by the soft glow of the candlelight. 

He presses a kiss against your lips as his hands slide under your dress and between your thighs, fingers pressing questioningly into the wetness he finds there. 

You moan at the sensation, grinding against his fingers as they circle the pebble there that incites an incredible feeling of pleasure. He leans forward until you’re spread out on the sheets, naked and panting for him. 

It’s your time being touched by a man, but Jungkook makes it seem like it’s the last. He holds you delicately in a way you’ve never been held before, his narrow hips slotting in between your thighs as he whispers sweet nothings into your lips. He carves his name into your mouth with his tongue, panting impossible breaths into your neck as he presses himself deep into your center, pushing past the wetness and settling deep within your hips as he begins to rock against you, his hands sliding into yours. 

And as you moan and cry out his name, you’re completely and absolutely blown away by how exactly perfectly perfect it is. 

[missymurphy1985]

Nobody's Perfect (part4)

Warning - angst / pregnancy? / Smut

Taglist Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x

"What do you mean it's split??" You looked at him, hoping against hope he was joking.

"What else could I possibly mean y/n?!" You pushed past him into the bathroom to see for yourself. Sure enough, there it was. Burst at the top, how neither of you had felt it you didn't know.

"Listen y/n..."

"Shut up. I'll take care of it, okay." He nodded. You binned it, and moved back past him to put your jeans back on.

"You okay?" He asked, his face still pale.

"Cillian.. stop panicking okay? I'll go to the pharmacy and get the morning after pill. It'll be like nothing happened. I wish nothing HAD happened."

He pulled his own jeans back on and sat on the same chair you'd just ridden him on, head back, hands on his face.

"You mean that?" He asked, bringing his elbows onto his knees and clasping his hands together, looking at you now, leaning against the counter.

"Yes. No... God I don't know.. you.. you fucking hurt me Cillian..." Tears back in your eyes, you sniffed lightly. "I made it to 27 before I had a one night stand, I was rather proud of myself. Then you came along."

"I'm not proud of what I did okay?" He stood and wrapped his arms round you. "I was married for 12 years until about 18 months ago."

"You were?" He pulled away and sat back on the chair.

"We had been trying for a baby for 3 years. Nothing. Then she got pregnant. I was over the moon, went to all the scans, the blood tests, helped her through the morning sickness.. held her hand when our daughter was born.. the works. A father, at last.. then my world came crashing down around me."

You sat opposite him and took his hand.

Cillian's flashback

Bunch of flowers in one hand and a small teddy bear in the other, Cillian approached his front door smiling. He'd finished his theatre run of Ballyturk a few days earlier than expected and was surprising his wife and new baby. Unlocking the front door, he stepped quietly inside and moved into the kitchen. The house was strangely quiet - her car was on the drive, so she must've been home? Checking his watch, 2pm - Niamh's nap time, she was probably resting herself.

Creeping up the stairs so as not to disturb them, he peered into his daughters nursery and smiled at the small 3 month old bundle sleeping soundly. He was desperate to pick her up but settled for a gentle kiss on the top of her head instead. Placing the teddy at the bottom of her cot, he heard a noise from the main bedroom.

Making his way down the landing, he went to open his and Liane's bedroom door before freezing.

"Fuck... Yes..." That wasn't Liane...

"Harder!!" That was...

"You gonna come for me Liane?" His mind was whirring at 100 miles per hour. He took a deep breath to calm himself down.

Pushing the door open, in his best poker face possible, he stood watching as his best friend, the best man at his wedding, was pounding into his wife.

"You gonna come or what, Liane?" His voice pierced the room, making Liane and Mark freeze and spin around, covering themselves and staring at Cillian, who simply walked out of the room and went downstairs.

He sat at the dining table, head in his hands, refusing to let the tears fall. Liane and Mark came downstairs and cautiously approached him.

"You were away filming for almost 2 years solid... I just... I didn't mean for it to happen..." Liane spoke.

"I haven't filmed a fucking thing for 9 months Liane. But it's good to know exactly how long you've been fucking my wife, Mark." He didn't look at either of them. His calmness was almost scaring Liane.

"Cillian I'm sorry man..." Mark broke the silence.

"Shut the fuck up. You've been fucking my wife for the best part of 3 years and you think you have a right to fucking speak to me? You were my best friend! I introduced you to your fucking wife! You have kids! WE have a child, Liane!" His voice was getting louder, he had to bite his fist to stop himself as the sudden realisation dawned on him. His eyes flashed red, unable to fully process it.

"Cillian..."

"Is she mine? Liane, is she mine?!" Her silence spoke volumes. Cillian dropped to his knees, the shock taking his legs from under him. He felt like a truck had hit him at full speed, knocking the wind out of him. Mark moved to pick him up, before being violently shoved across the room and slammed into the wall. Liane rushed upstairs to soothe Niamh who was now wide awake and screaming.

"You're lucky I haven't wiped the fucking floor with your face, you slimy bastard..." He gripped Mark's shirt so tight he couldn't feel his fingers, before slamming him back against the wall and storming out the house.

Flashback over

"I went back to Cork. Called my Dad on the way there to let him know I was staying for a few days. DNA test was done. Mark was Niamh's father."

"Cill... I'm so sorry, I had no idea.."

"No one knew. We kept it quiet. No one knew. Just divorced and she moved on. Haven't seen her since."

You truly didn't know what to say. The man in front of you was a shell of the one you knew before.

"Cillian Murphy, the 'golden balls of fucking Hollywood' - couldn't even keep his own fucking wife satisfied enough not to fuck his best friend. Couldn't father a child himself, after years of trying. Wouldn't worry too much about that morning after pill, probably not capable of knocking you up anyway."

"Cillian..."

"So after that, I refused to let anyone else in. Yeah, I fucked around - made sure it was with people I trusted to keep quiet and not run to the papers with it. Co-stars who needed a quick fling. Makeup artists and crew members that no one would believe anyway. It was working just fine, until.."

"Until what?"

"Until you, y/n. No one else managed to get under my skin the way you have. No one else wanted more from me - but you did. So I did what I had to do to make you hate me. I needed you to NOT want me.."

"How's that working for you?" You couldn't help but chuckle, and it made him smile.

"Yeah.. not going to plan anymore. Fuck, I'm sorry.. I am.. I didn't set out to hurt you, I was protecting myself. Selfish right?"

"Yes, but I understand. How about we start again? Forget what's happened, a fresh start?"

"I'd really like that y/n. I'm not an asshole.. just stupid."

"I'll agree with you on that. Come here." You lifted him to his feet and wrapped your arms around him. You held each other for a few minutes, before he leaned back and stroked your hair.

"What are you doing to me, huh?"

"Giving you a chance at being happy - you're allowed to be happy, Cillian. Not all women are out to break your heart. Don't let past relationships define future ones. I'm a fucking sweetheart!" You grinned and he laughed again. You could lose yourself hearing that laugh.

"You're certainly something." he nudged your nose with his.

"I have a request..."

"Name it."

"I don't want anyone knowing what happened between us.. it's private.. and this is my first real role, my turn to be selfish but kinda looks bad.." He nodded.

"Deal. So do I still get to kiss you?"

"Maybe."

"Touch you?"

"Maybe." He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"Fuck you?" You gasped as his lips brushed your neck.

"Definitely."

[aficwhore]

Truth Is (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2: In the Moonlight

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!reader

Summary: After Benny’s fight, Chipmunk and Frankie bicker and have a heated argument, leading to something unexpected. When the moment passes the gang goes back to ‘Chip’s’ place to prepare for Colombia in the morning. Fish and ‘Chip’ reunite in the moonlight, but not for long. 

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity, smut, sexual innuendos, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death, and talk of mental health(PTSD and depression).

A/N: I was so excited to start this new part, I had no exact plan on how I want it to go, but I went with what I was feeling in the moment. On a Side note THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 100 FOLLOWERS, you all are so special to me <3.

“And the winner is!” The announcer yelled, his voice echoing through the arena, pausing just enough to make us anxious, “Ben Miller!” He then raised the hand which held Benny’s arm, to showcase the successor.

In seconds you could hear Will, “Yeah! That’s my baby brother!” followed by proud roars, ours being the loudest in the crowd. I jumped from my seat and started jumping up and down. Too distracted by my glee, I didn’t notice Frankie had stood up from next to me. Once I saw him from the corner of my eye, he picked me up, jumping with me pressed to him, Santi and Tom cheering and playfully slapping each other and Will. 

Though the whole room was bursting with noise and people, when I made eye contact with Francisco, it felt like the whole world stopped. As if we were the only ones here. His smile slowly dropped into a face conflicted with lust and other emotions, I guess mine did the same. He slowly released me, placing me back on my feet, his eyes still bore into mine. 

After a few seconds, his eyes flickered down to my lips. He leaned closer to me, attempting to bring his lips to mine. Feeling my heart stop when his lips lightly brushed mine, I quickly pull away, before our lips could fully meet. Clearing my throat, “We should hurry up and congratulate Benny, then we can all go rest at my house.” 

Fish’s expression read nothing but confusion and sadness. “I-uh, yeah sure.” I swiftly turned to find the boys, but they had already started to make their way through the crowd and back to the locker room. 

My body began to buzz with emotions, not knowing how to feel in this moment. I didn't quite understand why I pulled away, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, but something didn’t feel right. The timing maybe, or even just the setting, or maybe the fact that I haven’t had closure from that one night many months ago. 

Trying to snap out of my thoughts, I walked a little faster to catch up, hopefully leaving Frankie behind so I could shake this feeling. As I swiftly made it back into the locker room I saw the rest of them surrounding Benny on the bench and making jokes, while Will held a towel to his face, collecting the blood dripping from his split eyebrow.

“Chippy!” the younger Miller exclaimed when his eyes made contact with mine. “Sad to see I didn’t lose?” he questioned with a smirk playing on his lips. 

Shaking my head and laughing, I glided over to him, taking over for Will, and pulling the towel away, examining the cut. “You may have won, but this sure does look nasty Benny Boy.” I light heartedly explained.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here to patch me up.” He chuckled, a small pleading look in his eyes.

I quickly turned to Will “If I’m gonna fix this, I’m gonna need a first aid kit.” All he did was nod before trailing off the grab one. 

Before I could realize Frankie was in the room with us I heard, “You did great out there kid.” He gave him a nod of approval. “Honestly was surprised, the other guy was a lot bigger than you, which I didn’t think was possible.” 

Benny burst into laughter, Frankie, Santi, and Tom joining in as Will came back and handed me the kit. “Alright boys, I think we should give Mr. BigShot here, a break.” I suggested, opening the kit and pulling out some alcohol pads, gauze, and some bandaids. They all nodded and filed out the back door into the parking lot.

As I began to dab at Benny’s eyebrow, he flinched. “So, you gonna finally tell Fish about everything? You know, since now you guys are kinda talking again?”

“Ben...No, I can’t. You know that. Only you and your brother know.” I explained, attempting to use butterfly tape to seal the cut closed. Carefully, I secured the tape with a bandaid over it, making sure to be gentle as Benny sat perfectly still in front of me, staring at me.

“Fish would be understanding, maybe even regretful with how he acted. If you just told him, he would realize how dumb everything was!” The kid chirped in a hopeful tone.

With a frustrated sigh, I spoke. “No Benny, I don’t think it’s worth it, because I’m not over how he handled it all.” I turned away from him, picking up the trash from the first aid kit.

He tried to convince me again, reaching up for my shoulder. “But you won't even give it a chance, what if-” 

“No! I already said no! Leave it alone! If I want to, then I will do it when I want to!” I shouted, letting my anger out. I yanked out of his grip, causing a sad look to appear on his slightly tattered face. He stayed silent, making me feel quite bad for raising my voice. “Look hun, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Just so many emotions were awoken today. You can’t blame me.”

He quietly shook his head and stood up. Towering over me, he stepped towards me and wrapped his big and long arms around me, securing me in a well-needed hug. “I’m sorry, I pushed it, I shouldn’t have. I get it, you need time to process and heal. Don’t apologize, I love you Chip.” 

“I love you too B.” I hugged him back for a brief moment. “But please, for the love of all things holy, go take a shower.” I tilted back smiling up at him, reaching up and pinching my nose shut to make fun of him.

“That’s rude.” He scoffed with a smile on his lips. “I’ll see you tonight at your’s, right?” He asked as he gathered his things, heading off to the showers.

I nodded, waving and spinning around to leave out the back. When I walked through the door, I was greeted with Frankie. He was leaning against the wall next to the door. I glanced around, in hopes to find the others, but they all had vanished.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you.” He spoke, pushing himself off the wall and towards me. I nonchalantly crossed my arms, still looking around.

“What about the others?” I inquired, wanting to avoid this conversation.

“They left, I told them I would drive you home and meet them there after they grab everything.” He revealed, taking in an encouraging breath. “But I wanted to talk to you about something, about us. To be exact.” He paused, stretching his hand out, behind his neck. As he began to sheepishly rub the back of his neck, he continued. “Look, I know things happened very badly, and I could’ve listened. And if I did, maybe we would- I don’t know, maybe we would still be together. But if you just told me the truth-”

“Excuse me? I know you are not trying to apologize and then still say its my fault I didn’t tell you everything?” I interrupted angrily. 

His body tensed, I could physically see the anger arising in him. “Would you just shut up and let me talk?” He spat, making me slightly jump in my skin. “This is another reason why things happened the way they did, you don’t know when to stop and be quiet.”

“You know what, fuck you.” I reacted, “Want to know what I was keeping from you? Want to finally know the goddamned truth? Well Dr. Philips is my fucking therapist.” His face contorted with confusion. “I was getting help, because I was getting worse again. The nightmares came back, and so did the depression, but I was too ashamed of telling anyone. So Fuck off Frankie.” 

Twisting around, I began to make my way out to the street. “Nena (babygirl), damn it, please, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know.” He pleaded from behind me. 

Completely ignoring him, I kept walking in the direction of my apartment, even though it was blocks, maybe even miles away. When I heard his footsteps get closer, I sped up, trying to lose him once again. Then finally, it was quiet, except the sound of my own feet on the sidewalk and the bustle of the city.

After walking for a few more minutes, my anger calmed, until I heard a car pull up and drive slowly next to me. 

“Por favor (please), get in the car.” Francisco’s voice came from the window of the car. I acted as if I didn’t hear anyone and kept walking, facing straight ahead. “Stop being stubborn and get in! You can’t walk all the way home, it’s going to get dark!”

I rolled my eyes, still ignoring him. Then I no longer could hear the car, which piqued my curiosity, had he really given up that easily? I slowed my pace and as I turned my head to glance behind me, I was lifted into the air. “Hey! Put me down! Help! Help!” I screamed.

“Would you cut it out!” Frankie shouted, struggling to hold on to me as I swung and flailed in his arms. 

“I’m being kidnapped! Someone help!” I kept yelling. “Save me-” My voice being muted as he clamped a firm hand over my mouth, continuing to drag me into his car. As he was forcing me to sit in the passenger side, he yelped. “I know you did not just bite me!”

I huffed, “Well if you weren't trying to abduct me, I wouldn't have to!” His hand reached over me to buckle the seat belt around me, I leaned forward, attempting to bite him again. 

“What are you?! A fucking piranha?!” He screeched, yanking back.

Though he pulled back, his face was still inches away from mine. Our eyes met again. Our feud seemed to melt away with each passing second that his eyes bore into mine. I no longer wanted to put up a fight. Every inch of me ached for me to forgive him and make up, but I couldn’t. No matter how badly I wished to, I knew that our split wasn’t my fault, nor his, but its both of our faults for being so stubborn. 

“Baby,” He spoke softly, pulling me back to reality. His gorgeous brown eyes still locked on mine. His lips lay slightly open, fanning his breath across my face. His breath smelled like mint, it mixed with his scent. He always smelled woodsy, like pine and bergamot. I had missed his intoxicating smell for so long, that I wanted to revel in it, even just for a few seconds. 

I reached out my hand, letting it carefully caress his cheek, his stubble rough against my palm. He didn’t move, he stayed just a hand’s length away, allowing me to sweep my fingers along his cheek, down his neck, and to the collar of the shirt he wore. I gripped the ring of fabric and tugged him forward, crashing his pillowy lips against mine. 

It wasn’t a sweet kiss, it was a needy, rough kiss. Our teeth clashed as our lips parted, inviting each other in. Our tongues swept across each other as one of his hands tangled into my hair and the other gripping my jaw, coaxing me to open up more for him.

It felt like sweet relief, longing and pining had been all forgotten. The man I missed so much, was right in front of me, touching me, kissing me, which I dreamed of for nights on end. 

When I let go of his shirt and began to trail my hand lower, Frankie released my jaw and stopped my hand. He broke the kiss, offering a light chuckle when I whined at the loss of contact. 

“You have no idea how much I missed that. How much I missed you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t respect your boundaries and that you weren’t ready to tell me.” He whispered with worry, placing his forehead on mine, rubbing his nose against my nose. I closed my eyes taking in the feeling. He laced his fingers with mine, with the hand that still held it to his chest. 

“I know Francisco, I’m sorry too. I should’ve told you, I could've still had you all these past months if I just got over myself and came clean.” I choked out, trying to keep calm.

He squeezed my hand, “Its okay, it’s over now. Please tell me its over.” It sounded like he was close to crying.

I nodded quickly, not wanting to speak, because if I did, I know my voice would crack with emotion. 

He remained crouched halfway into the passenger side, forehead to forehead with me. “Amor (love), they're going to make it to my house before I do.” I giggled, regretting my words moments later when we split. He nodded with a smile, stepped back and shut my door. He hurried around and got back in, starting the engine and making his way to my apartment. 

During the drive he reached over, taking my hand in his, and glancing over every once in a while to make sure I was okay. 

We sat in comfortable silence, until he spoke up. “I still have to run by my place and grab my things, do you mind if we stop on the way?” 

“Not at all.” I responded, bringing up our joined hands, to kiss the back of his. 

We rushed to his place, I stayed in the car as he ran in and gathered what he needed. It all seemed a blur, the euphoria from the event minutes before clouding my brain. 

When we made it back to my place it was dark and everyone was already inside, I guess one of the Miller’s used their spare key to get in. I helped Frankie grab his bags and head inside with them. As we walked through the door, the rest of the team was huddled on my couch, scarfing down pizza which I assume Benny bought. They glanced up and waved quickly before going back to eating and watching whatever they were playing on the TV. I set Fish’s stuff down with the other’s and walked further into the living room to find that the boys had laid out their blankets and pillows for the night already. 

I sat on the floor in front of the boys and grabbed a slice of pizza while Frankie set up his own area to sleep. When he finished, he strolled over and sat next to me. 

For the rest of the movie they guys were watching, we ate and chatted until we got tired and were ready for bed. I made sure to pick up the mess we made and helped the boys get comfy. When they were all laid down and falling fast asleep like children, I smiled to myself as I turned off the lights and headed to my room to turn in for the night. 

I tiptoed quietly, careful not to wake them as I walked to the laundry room and changed into my sleep clothes. Right as I made it back to my room, a hand reached out and covered my mouth to muffle the startled scream I was about to let out. 

“Its me, its just me.” Frankie’s voice contrasted with the silence of the room. I relaxed, turning around to face him. It was dark but I could still see some of his features with the help of the moonlight coming through the windows. 

His eyes crinkled with a smile, his teeth shining brightly. I couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss him. This kiss was loving and gentle. His lips moved against mine as I let my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. Feeling him flush against me, made my skin become hot with want and need. 

He seemed to notice because he deepened the kiss, pushing me further into my room and shutting the door behind us. In seconds he spun us around and pressed me against the wall. He tilted his head back to look at me, not daring to move, except his arm.

His cool hand trailed up my thigh, dragging my sleepshirt with it. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake. The material bunching on my hip, revealing the shorts I had on. I felt breathless from his touch as his index finger dipped into the waistband, lightly tugging on it. “Please tell me you need this as much as I do cariño.” He pauses with his nose nudging the side of my jaw, waiting for a response.

“Yes, pl-please, just touch me Frankie.” I stuttered, feeling my heart beat harder for him. In an instant, he drug the shorts down my legs, following them, and kissing the skin they surpassed. Once they were off and tossed away, he began his journey back up, but stopping at my stomach. I gasped as he kissed and licked at the hem of my panties, tasting the fabric and soft tummy underneath.

Through his eyelashes, he looked up and met my admiring gaze. My skin burned with desire, as if his touch was the only cure.

With little effort he wrapped one of his hands around my calf, pulling it up, and placing it over his shoulder, causing me to push my weight against the wall behind me. A small smirk finds its way to his face as he moves my panties to the side. Feeling vulnerable and exposed, I carded my hand through his hair, silently begging him to touch me.

“Paciencia mi amor (Patience my love).” his breath ghosted over my wet core, making me whimper with need. And at that moment he dipped down, placing a sloppy kiss where I wanted him most.

He placed another open mouth kiss on my mound, letting his tongue peak out and part me. My breath hitched when I felt his warm tongue flick at my aching clit. He did it again, causing me to buck my hips, asking for more friction. As he continued, slowly beginning to roll and suck on the bundle of nerves, he ran his hands up the back of my thighs, gripping my ass and pulling more of my weight onto his shoulders. 

He sucked harder, bringing a hand forward, and dipping his fingers into my wetness. “Fuck, I missed your sweet taste.” He murmured from between my legs, scissoring me open with his fingers. A moan escaped my lips, not loud, but enough to spur Frankie on. He started to go faster, working me closer and closer to the edge. His hot breath encompassing my wet heat when he would open his mouth to lick a broad stripe up my slit.

Losing focus on all things other than the man situated at my cunt, I could feel him swiping his tongue across my lips, as if he was spelling something. His movements were too intricate for me to understand, if he was spelling. 

I could feel a mix of my arousal and his spit start to drip down my thigh, sending a shiver up my spine. He broke away from my wetness, and chased the leaking fluid, catching it with his tongue, licking and sucking up the trail slowly, teasing me, making me wait longer for a release. 

My head started to spin with lust, nothing but quiet whimpers and his name leaving my mouth. “Please, stop teasing m-” I was cut off by him curling his fingers and speeding up. He placed his mouth back on me, determined to make me finish. I tugged his hair on accident, the pleasure surging through my body.

He moaned into me from my actions, vibrations radiating through me, allowing the coil in my stomach to tighten quickly. “Yes, don’t stop,” I moaned, trying to keep my voice low. Even though my body burned for me to scream in ecstasy, there were four other men in my living room asleep.

He curled his fingers again, hitting my g-spot. A loud moan eludes me, I quickly bring my hand, free of his hair, up to my lips, biting the skin on the back, in hopes of muffling my noises.

Just as I thought I had it under control, the coil tightened to its max, and snapped. I felt my legs rush with heat and wetness. MY legs threatened to give out as Frankie kept going, prolonging the white, hot, orgasm ripping through me. He gripped my ass again, holding me up, he could feel my legs tremble around him. 

Feeling a little too sensitive I slightly jerked away, slowing coming down from cloud nine. He took this as a sign to stop, he pulled back, placed a gentle kiss to my lips for the last time. He peered up at me, watching my relaxed face come back to reality, and stroking my thighs. 

As my breathing calmed, I looked down, finding my handsome Frankie, staring at me with adoration in his eyes and a smile on his face. I picked my leg off his shoulder, leaned over and grabbed his face in my hands, tugging him up to meet me, embracing him in a passionate and strong kiss. 

I could taste myself on his lips, his face wet with my slick, letting our lips glide smoothly against each other. He placed his hands back on my ass, walking back towards the bed, and me still pressed to him.

His knees backed into the edge of the frame, but he still stood tall. I broke the kiss, a seductive smile on my lips. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head, showing my bare chest to him. I tossed the shirt away and stepped out of my soaked panties, kicking them into the abyss of the dark room.

Frankie watched me intently, never taking his eyes off my frame. I came close to him, my fingers playing with this shirt. In seconds he tore off his shirt and began to yank his shorts and underwear down. Once they pooled at his feet, I leaned into him, kissing his jaw, nipping at the skin while my hand found his naked member, hard and leaking. His breath caught in his throat when I lightly stroked him. 

“I’m not go-going to last long baby, its been too long.” He choked out, struggling to keep his cool. I nodded, placing one last kiss to his neck. I stepped next to him, to get on the bed. I got on my knees, looking back to make sure he was watching me. As we made eye contact, I slowly bent forward, stretching my arms out straight in front of me. I guided my chest down and into the mattress, leaving my ass in the air and on display for him. 

I relaxed my face into the covers, feeling him touching my thighs and ass, lightly pinching the skin as he traveled up the skin. 

“Mierda (shit), all for me?” he questioned with a playful slap to my right cheek, luring a soft moan from me.

“Yes, all for you Frankie, always.” I responded, shaking my ass, hoping he would fuck me soon. The bed dipped behind my knees as he joined me. Thats when I felt his hard cock pressed to my cunt. He tapped himself on my clit, causing me to surge forward at the contact. 

He chuckled, “Are you sure princesa?” as he ran his head through my folds, eliciting a moan from me.

“Yes, Jesus Frankie, just fuck me already.” I growled frustratedly.

At my command, he lined himself up at my entrance and pushed into me. The stretch was borderline painful, it had been months since I'd taken him, and he was already bigger than all my exes.

Once he bottomed out, he gripped my hip and snaked his free arm around me, pulling me up and flush against his chest. He began to kiss and suck my neck, slowly rocking into me. His hand stayed at the base of my neck, splayed across my collarbones, pressing me into him. 

“Faster,” I whined, feeling him move quicker and more deliberately. His breath tickled my ear as he groaned, feeling me tightly wrapped around him.

As his pace quickened, I reached a hand behind me and braced it on his upper thigh, attempting to meet his hips. With a particularly aimed thrust, I moaned fairly loud, being consumed by the pleasure.

“Shh,” He spoke between grunts, “Unless you want the boys to know that I'm balls deep in you, filling you up with my cock.” He gave a hard thrust, never losing his pace. My free hand slapped my mouth, covering my cries.

Our hips sped up, meeting more passionately, with more meaning. With every thrust, all problems between us seemed to dissipate. I no longer cared about all things before tonight. All that mattered was him, us, and this moment. Being connected to him again never felt so good.

All that could be heard in the silence was the snap of his hips against mine, the small noises we let escape us, and the quiet creak of the bed below us. The moonlight illuminated our entangled bodies, the sweat gleaming in the night. 

The coil in my stomach tightening again, the waves of pleasure threatening to spill over the edge. Frankie had to be getting close, his thrusts became more erratic. He reached his hand from hip, down to my clit, rubbing in tight circles, trying to bring me to the brink with him.

“Fuck you're so tight, w-where do you-” He questioned until I cut him off.

“Cum in me baby.” I moaned, feeling my orgasm take over, the waves of bliss crashing down, taking me with it. Whiteness blinded my vision as my body convulsed against his chest. 

He thrusted a few more times before he let out a broken grunt, pumping his load into me, mixing our hot releases together, letting them seep out and down our legs. 

I turned my head to the side, reaching back and grabbing the back of Frankie’s head, pulling him into a kiss as we calmed down. The smell of sex filling our senses. He slowly pulled out causing me to whine at the loss of him. 

When we finally recovered, he got off the bed, taking me with him to the bathroom. He sat me on the sink, opened the cabinet underneath and grabbed a cloth, coming back up to wet it. Then he gently spread my thighs apart, cleaning up the remnants of the act. He then cleaned himself.

“You should go to the bathroom while I grab our pajamas.” He spoke softly, pressing a kiss to my lips and turned to scavenge for our clothes we had lost in the dark corners of my room. 

I hopped off the counter and sat on the toilet. I went to the bathroom, but began to feel exhausted. My eyelids felt heavy, drooping over my eyes.

Frankie came back in, only dressed in his boxers, my clothes in his hand. “I know love, let’s get you dressed so we can sleep.” He whispered, helping me up and helped me get dressed. His face had an unreadable expression, what could he be thinking? All was forgotten when he picked me up bridal style and led us to my bed, he pulled the covers back and laid me down, tucking me in. 

He wondered around the bed and got in behind me. He pulled me to his chest as sleep began to drag me under. His arm laid across my body and his hand splayed across my chest, feeling my heartbeat. Thats all I could process as I fell more deeply into slumber.

It may have been a dream but I felt him lean over, kiss my temple and whisper “I’m sorry for everything.” And everything went peacefully dark.

I couldn't tell how long I was asleep until someone began to shake me. “Chip, get up, it’s time to leave.” I groaned, not wanting to get out of the comfort of my bed and the comfort of Frankie next to me, or so I thought. 

My eyes snapped open to find Ben crouched next to the bed, face to face with me. I jolted up with surprise, quickly looking around to find Frankie, only to be disappointed. 

“Woah woah! Calm down, it’s Benny.” The man child looked frightened. 

I sighed, maybe it was a good thing Fish wasn’t in here, it could make a lot of questions amongst the team arise. But when did he leave? 

“Oh sorry Ben, I-I was sleeping too hard,” I lied. 

“It seems so,” he chuckled “Breakfast is ready, everyone is up and ready.” He explained. I nodded and he left, allowing me privacy to change. I quickly threw on my cargo pants and shirt, rushing to grab my packed bags. I brushed my teeth and hair in a hurry. I headed straight past everyone in the kitchen, out the door to throw my things in the truck.

When I came back in, everyone was staring at me. But I only made eye contact with one of them, Frankie. And the look on his face pained me, his expression was full of regret.

TAGLIST

@tanyaherondale​

@winter-fox-queen​

@supernaturalgirl​

@actual-spawn-of-satan​

@hnt-escape

@toomanystoriessolittletime​

*if your user has a strike through, it wouldn’t let me tag you*

[nuestraluzdelaluna]

Could you PLEASE write a fluff alphabet for Jadon? xx

Jadon Sancho fluff alphabet:

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Jadon loves to have action in his life. Something that you always do, mostly without even noticing is to just sing and dance along to music. Since J always has music playing anyways you two just end up dancing, often weirdly, to it.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He finds your eyes absolutely beautiful, especially when he sees how they change when you look at him.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

When you’re sad he kisses you. prepping wet kisses all over you face making you giggle, knowing that a kiss from him does wonders to you.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He would definitely want to move into a nice house with you, a big garden for him and a nice pool for summer days.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

You are both pretty equal. He is not that dominating but not passive either, if you two have a decision to make you would 100% both have a say in it and no one would be mad if it wouldn’t go their way.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

When he is mad he gets pretty snappy often don’t realizing it. So when he has made you feel mad he would not be that aware of and take some time till he realizes and tries to make up.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

I feel like some things are very normal for him just because he has been successful since he was a teenager, but he is still grateful for them. He is especially grateful for your relationship because he knows many people search years for something you two have.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He has a few ‘secrets’ although they’re more like things you don’t really want to know. Not wanting to hear much about his last relationships or his one night stands. Besides that you guys always want to communicate and not have any secrets.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

He has definitely realized that being grateful for things is important. Seeing how important someone can be has helped him to look for the special things even in little parts of life.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He does get jealous really easily but he tries to not show it. However this is not working at all, anyone could see how jealous he is from miles away. Calming him down only works with a lot of reassuring that you are his and that you love him.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He is definitely a good kisser. He is also stealing kisses all the time. Going to sleep? He’ll need a kiss. Right before a game? He’ll need a kiss.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

You two have just gotten back from a date and were cuddling on the couch. Brushing his fingers through your hair as you listened to his heart beat. Looking up to him you two shared your first kiss after that jadon asked if he can call you his girlfriend officially.

The first time he said i love you was after loss as you were cheering him up. Holding him in your arms as he rambled about what he could have done better - shutting him up with as kiss you played with his curls. Telling him cute things and cheering him up like no one could made him say the three little words.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He hasn’t really thought about marriage yet just because you both are pretty young and he thinks there’s enough time left.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

he likes to call you bubba or wifey just for fun

if he talks about you with other people he calls you his missus

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It is kind of obvious. He is always talking about you.

„Oh yeah my girl does that too“

„Gonna spent some time with my missus“

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He is really into PDA. He doesn’t care who is there when he kisses you, he’s always holding your hand and carrying your things for you.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He had the ability to change they way you think over yourself. He is always hyping you up and those things stay in your head boosting your ego. Jadon has helped you to love yourself more than you already did.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He doesn’t want anything that others could give to you. Always wanting to create something special for you letting his creativity take over.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He is so supportive. Jadon knows how important support from loved ones is so he is sure to always return it. Always hyping you up while taking pictures or reposting your insta pics.

“Look at my gorgeous girl”

“Damn that pose looks good”

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Jadon always needs to experiment never wanting to have a boring routine in his life. The same thing goes for your relationship - things are constantly changing, in a comfortable way.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He tries to be understanding. There are some things he doesn’t understand but nevertheless he will fully support you and be there for you, trying to educate himself to understand you more.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You are very important in his life he is always telling you how grateful he is and how much you have changed his life to the better.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He is a cuddler. Once you two lay down in bed you can be sure you won’t get up after. Jason’s arm weighting down on you as he buries his head in your neck leaving small kisses.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Yes haha. He loves to cuddle. He will even stay in bed longer, risking to be late, just so he can cuddle you longer.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He has little polaroids of you two that always remind him of you.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He will do a lot for you. If you ask for something he will be very unlikely to turn it down

[cordria]

27 and 100

I spent the longest time yesterday turning this over and over in my head today. Instantly, my head jumped to Danny being sick and saving the day, but that’s been done a thousand times over. Then I went down the path of someone being sick and Danny saving them… but that doesn’t honor the spirit of the challenge. Besides, the funnest word in the prompt is ‘accidentally’. And Danny doesn’t usually ‘accidentally’ save someone. So I had to find someone else. 

I jumbled through everyone I could think of, before stumbling upon the greatest idea while I was sleeping. Like a shot out of the blue. Or, perhaps, an upside-down ring. Our very own, our favorite...

Vaguely edited.

-

27+100 (sick+accidentally saved the day)

-

Wes watched dozens of his classmates playing a variety of games, scattered around the park. It was a beautiful Saturday. The sun was shining, the wind was gently blowing the spring leaves, and birds were chirping and fluttering around. Despite the gorgeous day, Wes was in a bad mood. He crossed his arms and slumped down at the picnic table, glaring at anyone who dared come too close.

“I’m joining your movement,” came a voice.

Wes turned his glared at the newcomer, then blinked and lost his scowl for a moment. “Jazz Fenton,” he said, in a grumpy sort of greeting. “What do you want?”

“I told you.” She had her arms crossed, and sat gingerly down on the bench next to him. “I’m joining you.”

Was kicked up the scowl. “I’m not in the mood for-”

“Look, I just got told I was the recipient of a nearly five centuries old curse-” Wes flinched at the look she gave him. The normally cheerful and helpful girl had a dark gleam in her eyes and a scowl. “And don’t you give me that look,” she continued. “I get that you don’t believe me.” She slumped down further, shoulders creeping up around her ears. “Nobody appears to believe me. Figured you’d understand.”

Wes blinked. “What?”

“Watch.” Jazz leaned forwards. “Hey Valerie!”

The black-haired girl, who was walking past with an ice-cream in her hand, paused. She glanced at them, gazing jumping between the two. Wes squirmed a moment, wondering what she was thinking. “What?”

“Danny’s Phantom,” Jazz said.

Wes blinked at the bluntness. “Wha-”

Valerie cut him off with laughter. “Yeah, whatever. Are you joining the Weston loony-train?”

“Seriously,” Jazz said, a slight frown on her face. “I should know. I share a house with him.”

“Funny. Where is your brother, anyways? He still owes me a movie.” 

“Home sick,” Jazz said. “You know how he quarantines himself every time he gets sick, now.”

Valerie rolled her eyes at that, and Wes spoke up. “Why does he do that, anyways?”

“He brought home a ghost flu once. Nearly contaminated two worlds with a crazy half-human, half-ghost virus.” Jazz leaned back against the picnic table, resting her elbows on the top. “He’s probably making the best choice. What’s missing a day or two of fun when you risk causing a two-worlds-wide pandemic by walking out your front door?”

Valerie gave her an odd look and she walked away, licking at her ice cream.

Wes waited a beat. He recognized the look. “She didn’t believe you.”

“Yeah…” Jazz said, kicking her foot. “I tried it out on my parents this morning. Same look.”

“You’re really cursed.”

“Seems like.” Jazz scowled. “I’m apparently doomed to spend my life knowing the truth but having nobody believe me.”

“I believe you,” Wes offered.

“You already know the truth,” she groused. “You wouldn’t believe me for things you don’t know-” Jazz cut off suddenly, eyes sharp as she sat up. “Valerie is the red huntress.”

Wes raised an eyebrow. “Uh…” He tried to picture the two in his head, the preppy girl with the angry ghost hunter. Perhaps they had a similar silhouette, but a lot of girls had that silhouette. He just couldn’t imagine Valerie being that angry all the time. “Yeah, no. That doesn’t make sense.”

Jazz twisted up a corner of her mouth and shook a finger towards him. “I-”

A blast of light sent them both scurrying underneath the picnic table. There were screams and yells as people all over the park ran for cover. 

“And of course Danny’s home sick,” Jazz muttered. 

Wes watched, heart beating in his throat, as Jazz dug through her bag and pulled out a too-small ectogun. “Are you going to kill it?”

Jazz sent him a dark look. “Not a chance. I’m just hoping it ignores us.”

The picnic table they were hiding under quivered and shook, then it suddenly sank about an inch into the dirt, the boards over their heads shrieking and bending. Wes ducked low, huddling into a ball, and fighting down a scream of terror.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” the ghost roared.

Jazz was right next to him, pale and shaking. “Don’t. Move,” she breathed.

The picnic table sank a bit more when the ghost stomped it’s foot. 

The sound of the picnic table taking that force made Wes flinch. He couldn’t help imagining what was going to happen when the boards gave out. The ghost squashing them flat. Shards of wood impaling them. “If we stay we die,” he hissed back.

Jazz clamped a hand over his mouth with a glare. She pointed at him, then at the ground where they were crouched.

Wes got the message. He just wasn’t sure he agreed with it. Running had to be better than hiding here.

The ghost standing less than a foot over their heads howled. “I will destroy this town, and I will start here!” A huge blast tore into the ground around the picnic table. “I have heard tell of the hunters of this zone from a hundred prey.” Another huge flare of light toppled a tree nearby, sending a cloud of smoke and flames roaring into the air. “Come stop me, fierce hunters, if that is what you truly are!” 

Wes stared at the destruction, sinking into an even smaller ball. Jazz was right. Stay it was. He tore his eyes off a park pavilion that had just burst into an explosion of wood chips and glanced at the girl. 

Jazz was staring at her ectogun, then kept looking up over their heads. Wes’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t possibly be thinking of attacking the thing. Not with that little gun. He shook his head, pointing at the gun.

She scowled at him. “I know what I’m doing,” she breathed.

Wes didn’t believe that for one minute. He’d personally witnessed the disaster of Jazz joining the Phantom team. It hadn’t gone well. “Give me that,” he hissed in her ear, grabbing the gun. She yanked it out of his reach.

There was another explosion somewhere off to Wes’s left, and the picnic table creaked and sank another inch into the ground. Wes felt the blood drain from his face. He was going to die.

Jazz aimed the gun straight up. What was she going to do, shoot through the picnic table? 

Wes panicked. The ghost would kill them! He launched himself onto her, grabbing for the gun. 

Whether he had misjudged his jump, or had anticipated that Jazz would fight more, or the result of an unfortunately timed kick on Jazz’s part… didn’t matter in the end. What did matter was that Wes ended up with the ectogun, and that he ended up rolling right out from underneath the picnic table. He scrambled into a crouch as the ghost turned its eyes on him.

It was a huge caricature of a female Viking warrior - one out of a horrible video game with gleaming armor, huge sword, and miles of green skin. Its face split into a horrible grin, eyes focusing on the tiny gun whining in Wes’s hands. “Are you one of the hunters I’ve heard so much about?”

Wes’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t move.

The ghost aimed its glowing sword at him. “And what do you hunters look like when you’re blown into a thousand pieces?”

“Throw it!” Jazz shouted. 

The ectogun in Wes’s hands had gotten hot. Burning hot. His-hands-were-screaming-in-pain hot.

“It’s set to overload! Throw it!”

Wes closed his eyes. He was going to die. He was going to die. He threw the gun blindly, wrapped his hands around his head, and curled up in a ball just as the last of his blood drained from his head. 

He collapsed, out cold.

--

He heard about how it went an hour or so later, when he was at the hospital getting the burns on his hands checked out. His wild throw had hit the ghost smack in the head, the gun had tumbled into the ghost’s ample armor, and it had exploded. The concussive blast so close to the ghost’s core had destabilized it just enough that the Red Huntress (who had shown up a few convenient seconds after Wes had fainted) was able to mop up the remains without too much trouble. Jazz had been the one responsible for getting his unconscious body to safety and then to the hospital.

Wes wrinkled his nose and stared down at the bandages on his hands. His brother was claiming he was a hero - even showed up to his hospital bed with a balloon with the word ‘hero’ permanent-markered across its face. “Getting your picture for the paper, bro,” Kyle said, using his phone to snap what had to be the worst-looking picture Wes had ever been part of. “You saved our town from nonexistent, invisible monsters! Gonna make the front page in this clown car of a town.”

Outside the window, it was a beautiful Saturday evening. The sun was low in the sky and faint clouds were purpling the horizon. Despite the gorgeous view, Wes was having a bad day. 

He groaned. “Go away. The painkillers haven’t set in enough to deal with you.”

[jjbabyouterbanks]

Cheater! (Part 2)

Summary: John B cheats on you with Sarah Cameron.

If you haven’t read part one then click here and give that a read first ☺️

Warning: Angst? Mentions of cheating, swearing. Please don't read if that makes you uncomfortable

So a lot of you asked for it. So here it is! Cheater part 2. I have so many ideas about what can happen so let me know if there should be a part 3. 

🌸I do not own gif, credit goes to owner🌸

Let me know what you think might happen and if you enjoyed it!

It’s been 1 month since you found out that John b cheated on you with Sarah Cameron. You still couldnt believe it, John b always use to talk about how he could never like a kook because of how stuck up they are but now his cheated on you with one. But what hurts the most is that he doesn’t regret it, his not even sorry about it. The other day you went to go for a surf with Kie and ended up having to see Sarah and John b making out on the beach. They aren't even trying to hid it and it feels like your heart gets torn out anytime you see or hear about them. 

“Why are they here?” Kiara walks into the kitchen of the Wreak and passes you a dirty plate, you have been working with Kiara at the Wreak for about a year now, her family was nice enough to give you a job after you got fired from your old one. 

“Who?” You didn’t even need to ask, you knew exactly who it was. You don’t understand why John b still comes here even though he knows that it hurts you.

‘Barbie and the trader” she rolls her eyes “I’ll kick them out” 

“No Kie it’s fine, I have to talk to him eventually” You sit the dirty dishes down and smile at her while you walk out of the kitchen and over to the table that they are sitting at “Hi welcome to the Wreak, what can I get for you?” you don't make eye contact with either of them and just look at the ground. 

“Uhh actually y/n I was wondering if I can talk to you quickly?” John b looks at you and smiles sightly. “I know you don’t want to but I ju...”

You cut him off “Yeah we can talk.” you quickly turn around and walk out the side door of the Wreak which leads outside. “What do you want John b” you can feel your body tense up when you look at him. 

“I'm so so sorry y/n, I didn’t want it to be like this. I wanted it to go a completely different way. I never wanted to hurt you” 

A laugh leaves your mouth “Your kidding right? You didn’t want to hurt me? John b you cheated on me! What did you expect to happen? Of course that would hurt me.” You felt like your body was on fire, you have been trying to hold in all your pain for the last month and finally it’s exploding.

“It was a mistake y/n!!” 

“Oh really? If it was such a mistake then why the hell are you still with her?” 

“Guys stop!” you see jj walk outside and walk over to you and John b “yelling at each other isn't going to help anything!” He stands next to you “come on y/n lets go for a quick surf”

You look at John b and then realise that jj’s right, nothing is going to be solved if the two of you just yell at each other all the time. But you need space, you can’t just forgive him that easily.

“Yeah.. that’s a good idea”

You walked down the beach with jj the whole time he was speaking you didn’t hear a word he said, it was like you put him on mute, his mouth moving but you can’t hear the words. Your mind was going 100 miles an hour and you hated that John b could still make you this upset.

“Y/n? What do you think?” JJ tapped your arm when you didn’t answer his question.

“Uhh what?”

“You weren’t even listening? I said maybe we should just sit on the beach and not surf, I don’t think your in the right headspace to go in the water right now.”

He was right, you definitely weren’t in the right headspace, everything was mushed up in your brain and nothing was making sense. You knew that if you went in the water right now, you would probably just get smashed by every wave.

“Yeah sounds good”

You both sat down on the sand at the beach, at first you couldn’t think of anything else expect how much you hated John b but after a while you finally started to stop thinking about him for the first time in weeks. JJ knew exactly what to say to make you feel better. You guess it’s because his been treated so badly his whole life he know exactly how to cheer someone else up. JJ has been your best friend for years, his always been the one person you can rely on to cheer you up, the one person to be there when you needed a shoulder to cry on. You’ve never thought about having anything more then a friendship with jj but maybe that’s because you were always so focused on John b.

So here he is sitting with his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You could hear his heart beating and feel his chest moving up and down with each breath.

“JJ?” You move your head so that your facing him.

“Yeah? What’s up?” His big happy smile appears on his face and his bright blue eyes looking into yours. You felt like you were home. You felt like for a minute everything and everyone around you didn’t matter. That it was just the two of you that existed. So that’s when you leaned in and kissed him. You had no idea why you did it. Was it because all your emotions where mixed up? Or did you really have feelings for jj this whole time but just ignored them because of John b.

The kiss got pretty passionate but then he pulled away “y/n..” he said your name so quietly you could hardly hear him over the waves of the water.

“Oh my god... I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I just did that.”

“It’s fine.. it’s okay” he smiles sightly but looks away “you know it’s just John b... his my best friend”

“Yeah... yeah. I’m gonna go” you quickly start grabbing your stuff.

“No you don’t have to go.. it’s just you know I don’t want to break the bro code.” His right, you should have never put him in that situation. John b is like a brother to him and you know how much he cares about him.

“It’s fine j... I’m sorry” you quickly stand up and walk off.

As you walked back to Kiara’s house you felt bad that you put jj in that situation but you don’t regret the kiss. Kissing him made you feel something you have never felt before. It felt something completely different to what you use to feel with John b.

You bring your fingers to your mouth and rub them along your lips, you could still feel jj’s lips on yours, thinking about kissing him made you get goosebumps across your whole body.

-Later that night-

You were laying in Kiara’s bed with her. You’ve been staying at her house for a while now, she has helped you so much through this whole John b thing and you don’t know if you could have gotten through it without her. The room was completely silent and the moon shinning through the window was the only thing that was making light.

“I kissed jj...” You laid there looking up at the ceiling of her bedroom and the words just slipped out of you mouth.

“Wait what?” Kie sat up turning on her bedside lamp and looking at you “When?”

“Today at the beach...”

“jj? As in blonde hair, blue eyed, annoying jj?” She looked at you blankly.

“Yep. JJ as in our friend jj and John b’s best friend”

“Oh... right” she didn’t smile or want anymore details, she just turned the light back off and laid back down.

“Kie? You alright?”

“I’m fine..” her voice sounded shaky, like she was trying to hold back tears or something.

“Kiara tell me what’s wrong? Do you like jj or something?”

“No!” She basically yelled out but then lowered her voice again “no.. I don’t like jj”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t like jj...but I like....I like you y/n...more then a friend..”

[star-six7]

Running Away and Hiding With You

Mikey Way x Gender Neutral!Reader (ending 1 of 4 for Here In This House of Wolves)

Word Count: 1444

A/N: Here’s the Mikey ending! The others will be posted today and tomorrow, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. No part of this story is meant to be libel, slander, or in any way derogatory towards any character’s real life counterpart. I’m not delusional; I know that these characters are simply based off of a public persona and may not actually resemble the people behind those personas. Any additional characters that you do not recognize are entirely fictional, unless otherwise stated. And finally, if you got here by Googling yourself, whatever happens next is 100% on you.

You began to fidget as you listened to the hosts explain the rules for the walkthrough. While you knew that they were likely playing it up for their own enjoyment, seeing as the band were likely the first visitors they had had in a long time, you couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. They urged everyone not to run, panic, or get separated, as it was apparently very easy to become disoriented. Yikes. 

“Hey,” someone whispered from your left. You turned and noticed Mikey had edged his way out of the group to stand next to you. “You look a little green.”

“Oh. Uh. Just not convinced that we’re not about to get murdered. Or kidnapped.” You were slightly embarrassed that you were visibly nervous about a volunteer-run, small town haunted house, especially in front of Mikey. Though it was silly, there was still a part of you that had never gotten over the “impress him” phase of your crush.  

Mikey glanced up towards the others and smiled. “Honestly? I’m not crazy about the whole thing either. Let’s go.”

And before you knew what was happening, Mikey took your arm and led you out the door before the others even had a chance to turn around.

After a few minutes of standing by the van, waiting to see if anyone else would follow, you felt the need to break the silence. “I didn’t mean to talk you out of going.” “Not at all. I love Gerard and all, but sometimes his sense of self-preservation…”

“Or lack thereof,” you finished.

“Exactly. You wanna try and find Main Street? I’m pretty sure I saw an ice-cream shop or something back there.”

---

After a few dead ends and wrong turns, you and Mikey ended up being the only two customers in the ice-cream shop. When the bored-looking teenager running the store handed you your cone, you moved over to lean against the window and watched as Mikey agonized over his order. You tried in vain to hide your smile as he finally decided on a quadruple scoop (chocolate, vanilla, mint chip, and cookie dough, to be exact) with sprinkles, and of course, a cherry on top.

“What?” He pretended to be offended as he noticed your barely concealed laughter. “Can’t a man be particular about his ice cream without being mocked for it?” Your snickering turned into full-blown laughter, which only led to Mikey cracking up with you. Moments like these reminded you exactly why you fell for Mikey in the first place. Though he seemed so quiet and reserved to others, he was funny, kind, smart, and an amazing friend when you got to know him. You suspected it was part of the reason he seemed to know everyone, even the most casual acquaintance, so well. He kept his cards close to his chest. Which, unfortunately, made it almost impossible to tell if he returned your feelings.

When you were finished, and Mikey had eaten enough of his ice-cream to the point where it wasn’t about to topple onto the sidewalk, you decided to wander down the street some more, hoping to fill the time before the others were done. Or murdered. A few minutes later, Mikey tugged on your sleeve as you were staring into the storefront of a tiny antique shop.

“Check it out,” he said, pointing to a Halloween store across the street. He looped his arm through yours as you stepped off the curb.

Unsurprisingly, being a member of My Chemical Romance and entering a Halloween store was the equivalent of a kid walking into a Toys ‘R Us with a 200 dollar gift card. You and Mikey practically ran to the center display, an homage to some of the greatest cult-classic horror movies of all time. You quizzed each other on your favorites, seeing who could get the reference first and retelling the best parts. Soon enough, you moved on to the costume section, where it turned into a contest of who could find the creepiest mask or most grotesque makeup kit. Finally, the excitement began to wind down as the two of you got to the decorations.

“Oh, hey. Spiders. We should totally get Frankie a little present,” you said, smirking.

Mikey shook his head. “And wake up to a knife in my pillow? No thanks.”

“Or bats,” you suggested. “They’re pretty cool. Everyone likes bats.”

You dug through the bin until you landed on one at the very bottom. “Look!” You held it up so he could see. It was a plush bat wearing a red scarf and a pair of glasses. “It’s you. I’m totally getting it.”

For reasons unknown to you, he couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face as you tugged him over to the register.

Not long after you had left the store, Mikey glanced at his watch. “Oh shit,” he muttered. “It’s been almost two hours. There’s no way they’re not done by now, we gotta get back to the van.”

“Definitely. Death by Brian isn’t exactly how I want to go.”

---

Much to both your and Mikey’s surprise, the van was empty when you got back to the haunted house. 

“Damn it, Gerard,” you sighed. “I knew there were murderers in there.”

Mikey snorted. “Gerard wishes.”

“Oh yeah. Him and his melodrama.”

The conversation lapsed back into a comfortable silence as you stared at the doors of the building, wondering when the others would come back.

“Damn,” Mikey exhaled as he turned his collar up against the now-biting fall wind. “Wish I had thought to snag the keys from Brian before we made our great escape.”

You shuffled into his side. “Well, I can take your mind off it, at least.”

“How so?”

“By giving you your gift, of course.” You pulled the bat out of the bag. “Here. So you’ll always remember the one Halloween where you chose to be sensible with me and escape certain doom.”

Mikey smiled as he took the plush. He turned it over in his hands a few times before his expression became more serious. “So, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you why I really asked you to come with me. Aside from escaping homicide, of course.” He swallowed, apparently trying to rid himself of nerves. “I… I really like spending time with you. I mean, I’ll take it any way I can get it. Remember that time I volunteered to walk a mile and a half in the snow with you to get that can of gas?”

You laughed, trying to ignore the way you felt your heartbeat quickening hopefully.

“Well… I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really like you in general. All of you, all the time, not just when we’re going on wild adventures or playing shows. And I understand if you want to pretend I didn’t just say all of that, or if you’re worried about the band, but. You deserve to know. Just… don’t leave me hanging, okay?”

“Mikey, I… I really like you too. And whatever happens next, with Warner, or the record, or- or any of it, I want it to be with you. All of you, all the time.” The slightly apprehensive look on Mikey’s face gave way to a smile that could rival your own. 

And, of course, the rest of the band chose that exact moment to come crashing through the doors of the building, running like hell.

“Unlock it, unlock it, unlock it!” Gerard yelped, as he pushed past you and MIkey, banging on the door of the van. He looked more pale than you had ever seen him, an impressive fate given his usual stage makeup. 

“I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but, I told you so,” Brian sighed as he unlocked the doors to the van. Frank, who had been snickering the entire time, ratcheted up his laughter into a full-blown cackle, which of course, caused Ray to shove him, and they both fell into yet another wrestling match on the floor of the van. You and Mikey climbed in over them, your subtly intertwined hands gone unnoticed in the chaos. Up front, Brian was griping about not being able to find the map, and Gerard was staring pensively out the window, likely about to start writing a song about his near-death experience. Apparently, almost being murdered couldn’t put a damper on the strange chaos you now called home.

“Everybody ready?” Brian called, glancing in the rearview. 

You looked down at your hand in Mikey’s and smiled. Yeah, you were definitely ready. For this tour and whatever came next.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Stay tuned for the other endings, and as always, requests are open!

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Virago 12. Too Good to be True

Summary: Y/N was sent to the ground after spending five years in the Skybox for stealing medical supplies and murder. How will she deal with her new environment and learn to survive on earth? Will she crack under the pressure of becoming a leader of the 100 or will she embrace it. 

Post Date: 08.21.20

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Based off: 02x01 “The 48″

Masterlist

100 Master List

You wake up no longer covered dirt and grime and in clean white clothes. You search your surroundings to find any indication of where you are. You can see Harper in the room across from you and Monty in the room next to her. You then drift your eyes a little further to the right and see a large sign that says “Mount Weather Quarantine Ward”.

You quickly jiggle the handle to try to open the door but find that it’s locked from the outside. You try to communicate with Monty and Harper but you can barely hear them through the thick door. You start to pace around the room and wash your face to refresh yourself. You think of how you could get out as you sit along the wall.

After a few hours, you decide to look out the glass again to see if anyone has come around. You notice someone walking into the room where Monty was. You jiggle the handle once more even though you knew it was locked. The next thing you see is glass flying outwards from the room beside yours and an arm reaches out to open the door. 

You watch as you see Clarke emerge from the room with a bloody arm. She grabs a piece of glass and approaches the person before ripping the head part of their suit off, revealing a girl around the age of you guys. Clarke backs the girl up in the room out of your view. You frantically look around the room for something to break the glass on your door. You pick up the metal rod that holds the medical bags and smash it against the window of your door. As soon as you reach to the door handle you cut yourself on the glass in the same fashion Clarke had seemed to.

As you open the door you find that Clarke and the girl had disappeared. You go down the hallway to the right and wander around the massive compound. You find an elevator and press the button. Only to find that it doesn’t open. You try once more before noticing the red light show up on the side and realize that some sort of key card is needed. Knowing that the elevator won’t open you run around to look for another way to get to a different level.

As you run around sirens and lights start to go off, you keep running but are soon stopped by a group of people that seem like guards. You head the opposite direction before being stopped once more by another group of guards. You try to slip by them but they catch you. You struggle and fight as they start to drag you off. 

You find yourself taken to some sort of med bay. As soon as they lead you in you see Clarke sitting on a bed with restraints around her wrists. The guards set you on the bed beside her and restraint your wrists as well.

“I see you got out the same way I did,” Clake whispers to you looking at the cut on your arm.

“How else would I. Do you know why we’re here or who else is here?” You ask.

“No, but we need to find out,” She responds back.

“Agreed,” You say back before hearing the door open and noticing a group of people walk in.

“Hello, Clarke and Y/N. How are your arms?” A woman with a white coat on asks. You and Clarke stay silent not wanting to talk to anyone but your friends.

“They’re not talkers, are they?” She says after a few moments of silence as the people make their way over to us.

“A skill picked up from the savages, no doubt. That’s fine. Maya has something to say first anyway.” The white-haired man says while gesturing to the girl who Clarke threatened.

“You two were the next ones to be cleared through quarantine. Another 10 minutes and you would have--” She says getting pissed before the white-haired man stops her from outbursting. “I’m not pressing charges on you, Clarke,” She says quieter.

“Thank you, Maya. You can get your treatment now. Restraints aren’t necessary,” The man says to another standing to the side.

“Yes, Mr. President,” The other man says and starts to take yours and Clarke’s restraints off.

“Dante Wallace,” The white-haired man holds his hand out to Clarke. She takes his hand and holds it to look at the smudges on his hand. “Oil paint. That’s right. You’re an artist too.” He then moves to you and holds out his hand, but you don’t move a muscle.

“Who told you that?” Clarke questions getting up from her bed.

“Your people did. They also said you two were their leaders. Looks like you two and I have a lot in common, kiddos,” The man says as you stand up next to Clarke.

“Where’s my watch?” Clarke asks.

“And where’s my necklace?” You ask concerned as well while feeling around your neck for your mom’s necklace. You forgot you had the necklace as you had never taken it off since she gave it to you. But now that its gone, your chest feels almost naked.

“I’m sorry...but we can’t let contaminated items inside Mount Weather. We couldn’t risk it. Our protocol is very strict, Clarke and Y/N. We prioritize safety over sentimentality,” Dante explains.

“So you just left the last thing I had from my parents out there?!” You say raising your voice. You feel Clarke’s hand grip your wrist knowing that she wants you to calm down.

“How many of us did you capture?” Clarke asks next.

“48, including you two. But you guys have got it all wrong. You’re not prisoners. We saved you,” Dante explains.

“Well, in that case, you won’t mind if we leave. If there are 48 of us here, we still have people out there,” You respond.

“Patrol brought in who they could find,” Dante explains.

“What about the Ark? It came down last night--” Clarke asks.

“We saw it. There were multiple crash sites over 100 square miles. If there were survivors, we will bring them in too. You have my word,” Dante explains.

“We want to see our people,” You tell him.

“Of course you do. I would too,” He responds before gesturing to a wardrobe like thing two men roll in. They open it up to display clothes and jewelry. “Change and meet me in the hall,” He tells us before walking away.

You and Clarke go up to inspect the items, clearly in awe as you two have never seen anything as pristine as the jewelry and clothes they had. You notice Clarke pick up one of the shoes and break off the heel. She hands it to you and picks up the second one to do the same. 

The two of you change into comfortable clothing, you pick out a gray tank, black jacket, and pair of grey pants. After you guys are dressed you make your way into the hall, into a very loud room.

“Sorry about the noise. Hydroelectric power from Philpott Dam. Fresh water from our own underground reservoir. Fresh food from our hydroponic farm,” Dante explains as we make our way down the hall.

“I don’t understand. You’re on the ground. You know its survivable. Why would you stay here?” Clarke asks.

“It’s not survivable for us,” Dante answers back.

“The grounders seem to have managed.” You add.

“Natural selection works. The grounders who couldn’t survive in the radiation didn’t. Those who could pass on their DNA. For better or for worse, here, we never went through that process,” Dante explains.

“Neither did we. We’ve been on the ground now for…” Clarke starts. 

“Solar radiation,” You interrupt.

“Very good. Your DNA ran the same gauntlet as the grounders. Only because radiation levels in space are even higher...your ability to metabolize that radiation is even stronger. Truth be told, our scientists were blown away by the efficiency of your systems. If not for that, your friends would still be upstairs in quarantine. Please.” Dante gestures to an elevator for you and Clarke to step in.

You and Clarke make your way into the elevator after two men walked in. The door starts to close until Dante stops it, “First, give me the heel. Both of you,” You were reluctant to do so until you noticed Clarke pull hers out of her sleeve and you soon followed and handed it to him.

“You’re not fighting for your life anymore. You’ve made it. Welcome to Mount Weather.” Dante says before the elevator door closes. The elevator moves until you arrive at level five.

“Your packet contains everything you need to know about Mount Weather. Which, I promise, is not as confusing as the map on page one makes it out to look. You came from level three, which houses our medical facility, including quarantine--” You hear a woman explain as you and Clarke make your way over to the group.

“Clarke! Y/N!” Monty says running towards the two of you. He hugs you both and the rest of the group turns towards you guys. Jasper soon follows in the hugging.

“Finn?” Clarke asks.

“And Bellamy?” You ask quickly after.

“Clarke, Y/N, they uh… they didn’t make it,” Jasper says as his voice gets lower.

“We don’t know that,” Clarke says hoping to calm Jasper and your nerves. “What about Raven?” She questions next, but Monty just looks down indicating she wasn’t here as well.

“Welcome, Clarke, and Y/N.” The woman speaking before says and hands you both an info packet. “If you have any questions, I’m Keenan,” She introduces herself.

After you guys had gone through orientation they announce that lunch is ready. You sit with Jasper and Monty as they dive into the food. You’re hesitant at first but after realizing how hungry you were, you start to eat. Monty and Jasper come back with desserts in hand. They dive in as well but you stopped after the main course. 

“Sit down and pretend you’re happy to see me,” Clarke whispers after Jasper and Monty and a little dessert standoff.

“We are happy to see you. You have to try the chocolate cake,” Monty offers as the three of them sit down. 

“Oh, it is so on,” Jasper says clearly salty that Monty offered it to Clarke and not him.

“I’m not eating their food,” Clarke states. “Look. They gave us a map with no exits. Tell me everything you’ve seen. Every room. Every hallway. Every way out.” Clarke says as she points to the map.

“‘Way out.’” Jasper repeats. “Look around, Clarke. There’s no one hunting us here. First time in our lives we’re not hungry. Why would we want to leave?” Jasper questions, clearly being happy here. 

“Because we have friends out there who need our help,” You add-in.

“They’re looking for survivors. And they’re way better equipped to find them than we are,” Monty points out.

“This place is too good to be true,” Clarke states.

“You’re bumming me out. I’m gonna get more cake,” Jasper says and gets up. You and Clarke watch as Jasper talks to Maya. Soon enough Clarke gets up from her seat and makes her way over to the two.

“So do you agree with Clarke? That this place is too good to be true?” Monty asks, getting your attention.

“Yes...Maybe,” You respond clearly not knowing where you stand. “I just think they should let us out there if we want to. I can’t stand knowing that our people are still out there.” You continue.

“You mean Bellamy?” Monty says. You sharply inhale having been caught off guard by Monty’s question.

“And Octavia. And the others,” You quickly respond.

“Oh come on. Anyone with eyes can see you two care more for each other than anyone else.” Monty states taking another bite of his cake.

“I care for our people. And Bellamy is one of them,” You say pushing off Monty’s comment. Soon after you start hearing sirens and see lights go off again. You notice Jasper and Maya run off and follow after them.

“What’s going on?” You ask the two as you all run.

“Clarke took my keycard,” Maya states. Soon enough you catch up to Clarke finding her at a big door.

“Clarke, no. If you pull that lever, these people will die. Even a little radiation could kill them,” Jasper says catching her attention.

“Don’t make me shoot you,” Maya says popping up beside you with a gun in hand.

“Wait, wait,” Jasper says stepping in front of Maya and turning to Clarke. “Don’t do this,” He says to her.

“I don’t believe them,” Clarke says upset.

“Why would they lie?” Jasper questions her. “Listen to me, We are safe here. Because of you and Y/N, we’re safe.” Jasper says looking between you and Clarke.

“Not all of us,” You add-in.

“I’m the one that fired the rockets. Should I not have done that? Clarke...when you pulled that lever, you saved lives. Don’t throw that away by pulling this one.” Jasper says as you hear his voice shake. 

Clarke lets go of the lever as a group of guards make their way in and take Clarke into custody. The other guards take you and Jasper to the room where you all were staying in. It was filled with enough beds to house all of you.

“I’m glad you’re all alright,” Monty says hugging you and Jasper.

“Better if we could leave,” You snarkily respond under your breath. 

“Well, I’m just glad we all together,” Harper says making her way to you guys.

“Not all of us. They won’t let us leave to look for our own people,” You respond getting upset. But no one responds.

“Dinner is ready. Get dressed in nice clothes” A guard at the doorway says. They escort us to the dining room after we get dressed and have us all hold hands as Dante speaks some words. 

To your surprise, you notice Clarke eat their food after you all sit down. Either she’s playing get along or they told her something to convince her you really are safe, you think to yourself. After dinner, you are escorted back to your room. You watch as everyone settles in and actually looks happy for a change. 

“A little gift from Dante?” You ask Clarke as you notice her looking at a card and object that was on a chair.

“Yeh let’s see what it is.” She says as she lifts the lid to display some art materials.

“Looks like Dante has really taken a liking to you,” You chuckle.

“Yeh,” She chuckles back. For the rest of the night you sit and chat with Monty and Jasper.

“So, we never finished the conversation about you and Bellamy,” Monty says.

“What is there to finish? As I said, he’s one of our people and we need to find them,” You state back.

“Ooo, what is this, You and Bellamy thing you guys are talking about?” Jasper butts in. 

“It’s nothing,” You respond.

“Nothing my ass. Jasper, can you agree with me that Bellamy and Y/N here clearly care for each other a lot more than anyone else?” Monty asks Jasper.

“I care for all of you, equally,” You quickly respond getting defensive.

“Well...now that I think about it...you two do seem like you’re always together,” Jasper states.

“You know what. If you two don’t believe me. Then I’m just gonna go see what’s up with Clarke,” You say getting up.

“Oh don’t be like that Y/N. We’ll let it go, never talk about it again,” Monty says throwing up his arms.

“Uh-huh,” You respond making your way to Clarke. You find her sitting on her bed, sketching something.

“So how are you liking those art supplies?” You ask her as you climb up to her bed.

“They’re great. Better than any I’ve had on the Ark,” She responds as you sit next to her. As you look over to what she was sketching. She was sketching on the map that was given to us, labeling where she believes places are that were unmarked. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” You smile at her, hoping that she’ll keep you in the loop. You make your way back to your bed and lay down ignoring every attempt Monty makes to try and talk to you.

A/N: So what do you think Y/N is gonna do now that she’s stuck in Mount Weather?? Also, I know I just added the necklace in randomly but I liked the idea, please lmk if you guys would like a bonus chapter of a flashback to her receiving it, id be more than happy to do that! I hope you guys enjoyed this part and are excited to see what happens next. I have lots of ideas and plans for Y/N, for Season 2!

🏷: @im-a-writer-right​ | @marsbar-inspace32​ | @zestylemon99​ | @unrvquited​ | @thebeautifulbookworm​​ | @gxvrielle​ | @simonsbluee​ | @iwishilivedinthesims​ | @awkwardspontaneity​

[quarantinebreakup412081121]

Day 1: Long Story Short It Was The Wrong Guy (AGAIN)

After nearly a year of being miserable after my ex and I broke up, and about 8  overlapping months of attempting to date, I finally met someone.

He seemed genuinely nice.  He met me at my neighborhood park and we walked his dog, around and around and around for probably a couple hours.  We talked nonstop- about 90% of the conversation was about our dogs.  We left and he hugged me goodbye (I turned to the side because- COVID- and I wasn’t expecting it... but it turns out he was vaccinated already) and said we’d do it again.

The next time he came to my house, met my dogs, and we walked his dog around my neighborhood. My dogs aren’t up for more than about a half a mile walk, so they stayed at home.  We talked and talked, we ended up back at the house before we were finished, so we re-walked half of the route, then walked part of the neighborhood beside mine.  By the time we got back, we still weren’t finished talking, but it was getting late.  We attempted the hug again.  He was vaccinated, I was going to be vaccinated the next month.  His dog lunged when we were going in for the hug and it ended up being kind of a 101 Dalmatians, tangled hug moment.  It was funny and a but awkward, but definitely memorable.

He said we’d do it again.

Then he asked me to go to his apartment so he could cook for me; he called it a date.  It was a little fast, but I made the hour long drive and went over for shrimp and fake meat tacos.  We also watched a movie.  It was nice.  He kissed me on the way out.  It was sweet.  I wasn’t sure that I wanted it to happen so soon, but I left with butterflies.

The next few dates alternated between him coming here to do outdoorsy things and me going to his apartment for a meal and a movie.  It was beginning to feel like a real relationship.

Over the next 5 months, he introduced me to all of his friends and we went to game nights together, coordinated to play video games with his friends when I went over, attended his friend’s post elopement wedding party, and he had me sign the photo matte that they had in place of a guest book.  It felt real, it felt solid, it felt like it would be long term and like he really cared about me.  It felt like the opposite of what I had with my ex.

He had me meet his dad.  He came over and met my family.  He said he’d go to Disney with me and he asked me to go skiing with him and his family.  He said he loved the beach and that it was his favorite place to go- so I anticipated multiple beach trips over the summer.  He listened to Taylor Swift with me, we watched dumb movies together, went grocery shopping and made Target runs together- aka “couple shit” as he called it.  I loved it.  I never got to do everyday couple activities with my ex.  He’d cook for me, I’d cook for him, he’d make random Taco Bell stops for me and he knew my order.

A few weeks ago, I finally decided to open up to him about some of my anxiety and worries.  I thought that the person I’d gotten to know over the last few months would be a person I could talk to and be real with- something I could never do with my ex unless I wanted to be judged and then ignored about it.  He listened, and attempted to offer a helpful response- which wasn’t really helpful, but he TRIED.  That was much more than I’d ever gotten from my ex.  A few days later, I went over to his apartment for the night.  We had dinner, it was off.  The conversation was off.  The movie was uncomfortable- like we were just sitting through it to get it over with.  He went to bed early but I was so wide awake that I sat in the living room playing on my phone and watching the storm outside for another 3 or 4 hours so I wouldn’t toss and turn in bed and keep him up sine he had to work in the morning.  In the morning, I had to drive home at 7am on only a few hours of sleep. I was cranky from that and the way the previous evening had panned out.

I laid in bed for a bit and snuggled his dog.  She’s so sweet.  She loves me and I love her-- so do my boys.  I laid there thinking “this feels like it might be the last time I ever see her...  so I just scratched her head and took a photo to remember the moment.

The goodbye was awkward, and I texted him when I got home and apologized for acting weird the night before and that morning.  I told him things felt off for some reason and laid out some things that were on my mind.  I thought open communication would be a good thing and that it would help him to understand my headspace and show him that I felt comfortable enough with him to talk to him  about these things.

The next week, he avoided hanging out with me.  The week after that, same story.  I asked him to come to a concert with me on a Sunday night- he said he’d love to if it wasn’t on a Sunday.  Then I asked him about another concert on the following Tuesday night- I jokingly asked him to play hooky from work and come with me.  He said he couldn’t- but I understood that; it made sense. I went out of town for the weekend to visit my brother and he said that we’d plan time to get together once I returned.  I returned and he mentioned nothing about getting together.  I brought it up once and he didn’t acknowledge it, but he still talked to me, just a lot less than usual.

The conversations we were having sounded like repeats of previous conversations- and I honestly don’t know if he didn’t remember telling me some of those things, but he liked to partake in a beer or two or three... pretty frequently- so I’m not certain that some of the time he talked to me, he wasn’t 100% there.  But that wasn’t the point- he was just sending me pleasantries and fillers as texts. No real conversation.

I started getting worried because my mind went to the worst possibility.  He was checking out.  We were done- or almost done.  I asked him if we were good because it seemed like we weren’t.  He said he was good and that work was just really rough lately and he was basically working and sleeping all the time.  All of my worries melted away and I instantly felt a sense of relief-- I had been worrying for nothing!  So I asked him if he had time for an evening hangout on Friday or Saturday or a different night if those didn’t work.  I’d come to him and bring food and we could watch a movie and veg out for a bit.

That was last night.

This morning I woke up early to go to a sunflower field to take some fun summer photos.  With covid apparently flaring up again, I was trying to find safe summer activities to do before the season’s over.  Since I couldn’t get my guy to go with me to basically anything, I decided I’d do the things he didn’t want to do with me on my own and do the other things with him.  It wasn’t so much a compromise as it was me just learning to be okay with having someone who didn’t want to take part in activities with me.  My mom went with me an we got some gorgeous photos.  I kept an eye on my phone expecting him to reply to my hangout request, because once he said yes- I’d also ask him to go with me to visit my brother in a couple weeks an have a fun beach weekend.

On the way home, I went through the drive thru at the bank and while I was waiting, I noticed my phone blinking.

It was a text.  From him.

I don’t think we’re a good match for each other.  There has been numerous occasions where you’ve said or done something (even in the name of “joking”) that hasn’t sat right with me.  I’m sure there have been times you felt the same about me as well.  I don’t want to waste any more of your time either.  I hope you find a man who is a better match for you.

First of all, what the actual fuck.  Secondly, there *have* been numerous occasions.  Third- I have no idea what I said or did...  Best I can muster is that since I’m pro equal rights and pretty liberal, maybe it came across as offensive because I think he has family members who are... trump-esque.  I barely brought up politics because I didn’t want to make things weird.  He is a cop and I never made jokes unless he did first (he’d regularly joke about cop stuff and talk about how he isn’t a typical cop and how he doesn’t like hanging out with other cops or doing cop stuff or even talking about cop stuff outside of work.)  He gave me a whole spiel about he’s not a “cop cop” when we first met, like he was trying to sell himself to me-- which  he didn’t need to do, but I thought it was cute.

I asked him if we could talk for a few minutes later in the day because I wasn’t understanding what was happening.  I told him that I wasn’t trying to change his feelings about anything, but I wanted to talk.  He totally blindsided me.

He never responded.

It’s basically midnight and he’s had most of the day to respond.  Five months and he can’t even give me an explanation.

This is what I get for trying to trust people.

Tomorrow- or later tonight- I’m sending one last text and blocking him.  He knew that’s how my ex ended things and how insensitive it was and how wrong it was.  We had this conversation.  And after five months, he just strings me along for the last few months and then ends things with a text.  So goddamn insensitive.

I know I’m better off without someone like him in my life, but this hurts so much more than the last time because at least my first ex was a jerk and it was on brand for him.  This one... my second ex... he was supposed to be better than this.  He was supposed to be nice.  He wasn’t supposed to hurt me, not like this.

[thewintermusketeer]

This started off as a little reddie drabble to cheer up @skinks , based off her tags and thirsting for bill hader, particularly inspired by this post. It’s now over 1.5k and I absolutely did not read it over before punting it off to my love @benevolentbridgetroll to look over, so if this makes sense it is only due to her help.

Disclaimer: I have not seen the movie/read the book/am not part of this fandom so this is purely based of the SCU (skinks cinematic universe).

They’ve been couch shopping. Of all the things, that’s the catalyst. If Eddie were a pessimist (which he’s not, he’s just sensible, Christ, Richie, it is literally my job to think about worst case scenarios) then he’d say the whole ‘being stabbed in the face and then stabbed again in an even more vital area, in a manner commonly called impaling’ had messed with his judgement. However, that would imply that something else is messing with his reasoning, and Eddie has been through enough therapy by now to understand exactly which thoughts and behaviours are his own. And this? Unfortunately, this is all Eddie.

Anyway, the issue is that Richie sat on a couch. A couch that they were buying together, because they live together. They live together, and they cook together (or rather Eddie tries to cook healthily, and then when he ruins it Richie makes something with far too much fat and salt in it, that’s still better than take out at least). They go shopping for groceries together. They’re the most boring middle-aged couple in the world, and yet neither of them have actually got the balls to call themselves one. They both know there’s something there. Something hanging in the space between them, important words swallowed behind more and more insults because Eddie never thought he’d feel like he’d die if he didn’t hear another ‘yo mama’ joke. It was strong enough for Eddie to move to Florida with Richie, to get away from New York and Myra, even if the latter was something he’d have done anyway, as soon as his memories started coming back. But it’s still unsaid. Not acted upon.

And Eddie is pretty sure they’d have stayed like that for a while longer, in a holding pattern made comfortable by the fact it’s not comfortable; Richie pushes him, dares him and goads him like he did when they were children, and Eddie still can’t believe he forgot how it feels to want to shove Richie right in his stupid square face, even as he can’t stop laughing. Richie makes him feel like life is actually worth living, and not something to be calculated and analysed and rationed. Of course, Richie also makes him feel fucking horny. Which is exactly the problem.

Richie sat on a show couch – and Eddie doesn’t even want to think about how many other fucking people have been near that thing – and Eddie barely stopped himself from crawling onto his lap right there in the shop and jerking off onto his shitty logo t-shirt. He was wearing converse for Christ’s sake. Shoes that provide no fucking ankle or arch support. No forty-year-old man should look sexy wearing converse and a baseball cap. And yet Eddie wanted to measure the exact diameter of Richie’s chest using his thighs. Maybe years of being called a loser and a square had sunk in, subliminally, because the fucking stupid rectangular breadth of Richie’s chest had made Eddie feel crazy.  He wanted to be wrapped up in Richie’s gorilla arms, wanted to feel the gentle scratch of his arm hair against his own bare skin. Wanted to watch the clench of Richie’s hands against the back of the sofa if Eddie dropped to his knees in front of him, telling him not to touch his fucking hair until he’d washed his hands, Jesus Christ. Wanted to see if Richie would laugh during sex, as well.

But he didn’t. Instead they bought the couch, after he’d checked the fire regulations. He had left the shop with Richie, who’d slung one arm around his shoulders, and the weight of his arm, the warmth of him against Eddie’s side, was as reassuring as it was a turn-on.

“Guess we’re parents now, Eds. Or, we will be when our bouncing baby boy gets delivered next week.” Eddie feels the laugh building in Richie’s chest before he even speaks. “I’m so glad you kept your figure though, babe, a couch that big must’ve been murder on your hips.”

“You’d know all about bad hips, fuck face, or am I imagining the old man complaining I heard this morning?” Eddie would say he’d replied on autopilot, but a larger portion of his brain than he liked to admit was always focused on Richie, like a radio that always tuned back to one station.

“It’s not my fault your mom rode me so hard last night, is it?”

Eddie hadn’t been able to stop his snort. Forty fucking years old and the same joke was still funny. He’d looked out the corner of his eyes at the dumb smile Richie was sporting, all because he’d made him laugh. Richie needed a shave and stepping outside the air conditioned shop was enough to make his glasses steam up a bit, but it hadn’t stop Eddie’s raging, improbable thoughts about the line of his jaw beneath the stubble, about how he wanted to turn it into a slip n’ slide with his dick. About how he wanted to feel the bob of his Adam’s apple fucking massaging Eddie’s armpit, or something. 

Eddie hadn’t even realised they’d reached the car until Richie’s arm left his shoulders as he walked round to the passenger door. But now he was here, sat in the driver’s seat of the car – of course I’m fucking driving Richie, you drive at about 100 miles an hour even though you get car sick – sweat drying on his skin as the A/C blew, unable to tear his eyes away from the long, be-denimed legs that were currently folding themselves into the car. The slight jolt of the car’s suspension as Richie settled the breadth of his shoulders against the seat felt like it went straight to Eddie’s dick.

Fuck it. Fuck this ‘unsaid thing’ bullshit. Fuck pussyfooting around, when the two of them already share a life together. Fuck Richie Tozier in particular, and hopefully fucking soon.

“What’s wrong? Have I got something on my face? I don’t think I do, I’ve been told that that’s unfortunately just how my face is.” Richie’s eyebrows look like they’re attempting to perform the macarena with the kind of enthusiasm only seen at an eight year old’s birthday party when cake time is announced. Eddie wants to lick them.

“Should I get a cool face scar? I mean you’re really pulling it off - ” Eddie cuts Richie off with his mouth. He was aiming for Richie’s lips but he’ll take the chin he gets, mouthing openly, the stubble stinging his lips.

“Wha-” Richie gets out, more an exhalation of air that Eddie feels against his face. He steals Richie’s next breath, kissing him properly, one hand leaning across to brace him against Richie’s thigh. One of Richie’s hands comes up to cradle his face and fuck, Eddie wants it to never leave his body, wants it on his face and his neck and his legs and his back, and to hold it with their fingers interlaced like a promise. Richie pulls back just far enough to press a kiss to the scar on his cheek and Eddie feels like he might cry.

Instead, he says, “I love you. Dickwad.” The insult is tacked on the end almost as an afterthought, because for all it’s funny to insult each other, Eddie wants Richie to know how serious he’s being. The problem is that the moment feels too serious. They’re in their own little bubble in the car, but Eddie is still acutely aware of the people walking past on the other sidewalk, can hear the sounds of traffic. He suddenly wishes it was just the two of them, back in the home they’re making together with their terrible decorating choices and the orthopaedic mattress Eddie is now hoping they’ll be sharing.

Richie’s face turns soft. “I wanted to say it first, asshole. Always stealing my thunder. I can’t have anything in this relationship. Didn’t even get to choose our anniversary date.”

Eddie tightens his grip on the thigh beneath his hand, sliding his fingers down onto Richie’s inseam; Richie’s legs spread gratifyingly fast, and Eddie can’t help but lean back in for another kiss. Richie seems to be trying to suck his tongue into his mouth this time, and he can’t help but be extremely into it. They’re only interrupted by a honk from a passing car, and Eddie is reminded again that getting home is a good idea. He separates himself from Richie reluctantly and fastens his seat belt, raising an eyebrow at Richie until he does the same. He starts the engine, but just before he prepares to pull out the parking space he considers Richie’s last statement.

“You can decide our anniversary if you propose. Of course, your mom might get there first, but if you think about exactly what you want do to when we get back to the house, it might net you preferential treatment.”

Richie looks a bit dazed. “You want a list, baby? I can do that, Mr Sexy Analyst. Alphabetical?”

The look Eddie levels him is particularly judgemental. He cannot believe he’s about to fuck this man. “Chronological, moron.”

“Anything you want, Eds.”

Eddie doesn’t think Richie knows exactly how long that list is. He’s looking forward to finding out himself.

[tysukis]

Hi, first(?) AU anon here. I will absolutely dive down this rabbit hole with you. I went a little overboard (sorry?). I absolutely agree with you on your Zuko take. I think we all kind of land there naturally. But I also think that Zuko would latch onto stability the moment he realized he had it. So this is kind of how I see it going down:

I think the band Sokka is part of would be solid. Just a local hit, right? But Sokka is the plans guy, and the aspirations guy, and they can do *so much better*. I 100% do not know how real life musicians work so add a pinch of salt here, but he would absolutely land them a gig as openers to a mediocre niche headliner just by sheer power of phone calls and charm. (He scripted it as much as possible, we all remember how that canon speech went when he winged it, but he knows how to put words together when he has time).

And yeah I love the idea of Zuko being an academic. I'm assuming Ozai is out of the picture for this, and the boy gets to pursue his passions instead of an expectation. Unfortunately, you mix in passion and the general anxiety of a kid who lived under intense scrutiny and you get an adult who gets tunnel vision during spring finals/prep for a conference/etc. So he doesn't quite rise to the occasion when his boyfriend drops this life changing news, he's proud but distracted, and he's already so bad at words in comparison to Sokka that it's just. Lackluster. And he probably meant to meet them at the bar/house party to celebrate after he got home but he's sleep deprived and his phone is dead because he's a disaster sometimes.

So now you've got Sokka stewing on immediate events, and being a little heartbroken because he went all out every time Zuko accomplished *anything*, even if it wasn't super impressive to Zuko himself. And maybe there's a bit of Zuko assuming Sokka doesn't need that reciprocated. He just doesn't vocalize his important needs, so Zuko assumes they're being met, you know? I like the drama of a blown up confrontation but also the idea that Sokka just confronts him sounding hurt and so damn tired of being the emotional one for that long.

But on the other side you have Zuko with his internalized plan that this is his forever person, and he does go to almost every performance even if they don't play his preferred music. And he assumes Sokka is satisfied with this. Maybe because Zuko can't imagine being happier than near his family - the good ones anyway - or because he genuinely thinks Sokka and the band are happy with being local celebrities and leaving it at that. So he plans for permanence. Because he is still a disaster, Zuko probably never vocalized this beyond doing window shopping for apartments or something. Vague jokes about a wedding that Sokka laughs at/agrees with and Zuko interprets as, "Yes I am also thinking about being here with you forever." He's not the wordsmith, he's the pragmatist and love means house shopping and snuggling over takeout and planning trips to visit their distant family together, right? Sokka's confrontation blindsided him, because he thought they were on the same page, and Sokka didn't have to leave to keep playing music, why is that even a thing??

They're both justified in being jaded because they're dumb as hell (affectionate). This isn't an AU for two grown ass men who have put in therapy time, they're both young and full of their own understanding with poor communication skills.

musician au anon!!! hello welcome back thank you so much for this incredible ask, let’s GO

(I’m gonna pop this one under a read more because otherwise this post will be eight miles long lmao)

Honestly I’m wracking my brain with what I can possibly add to this because you’ve got like. A fully fledged outline here my dude and it’s a good one. Do you write? Because you should, if you don’t. I still love the alternative take of Sokka being the one to leave and honestly this pretty much cements how much potential it has. I absolutely adore how you’ve thought about just how the communication would break down between them - and you’re completely bang on the money with it as well. Zuko is fully a hot disaster and would completely just assume Sokka’s needs are being met if he isn’t vocalising them, and we know Sokka, he’s a complainer but when it really comes down to those he loves - he’s known for being pretty selfless and for putting up brave faces. I can totally see Sokka perhaps almost feeling a bit self conscious about how hurt he is by Zuko’s lack of enthusiasm. Because Zuko loves him, right? And it’s just one show, right? So maybe he’s just overreacting, right? Or maybe he’s actually not even that good. Oh no, maybe Zuko hates his music and is just waiting for the right time to break it to him gently. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I think I might have already said it at some point tonight but Sokka would absolutely spiral until he convinces himself that him leaving would be nothing more than simply just leaving before he gets left. And like you said: Zuko  is out here planning a whole future assuming that they’re on the same page, meanwhile he has no idea.

I totally buy Sokka winging his way into a supporting act spot using his charm and charisma, and yeah his speech in canon didn’t go too well but this could likely be over the phone to only one person which would probably make it easier. I was thinking about how Sokka performing would work in conjuncture with his canon almost stage fright/fear of public speaking - and I’m leaning towards the hc that he embodies a sort of persona in front of large crowds and he’s able to let that take over and act casually and confidently no matter the audience.  (source: I am someone who studied acting and excelled in public speaking most of her life despite having a chronic anxiety disorder - playing parts and speaking on stage didn’t feel like ‘me’ because I was always channeling a character either fictional or an alternative version of myself. It works, folks.)

Are we thinking he broke away from the band and went on to succeed in a solo career? As in, he felt being local heroes was a limited pathway? Or did they all go together? Who else would be in it I wonder.

I LOVE your interpretation of Zuko and how the factors under which he was raised would shape him, especially in a modern setting. He would absolutely go into tunnel vision and that perfectionist mindset he was essentially forced into as a kid would probably be alive and well into adulthood. (And yeah, these aren’t men who have been to therapy - yet! - so we’re probably gonna assume that Zuko views this as a Perfectly Normal And Healthy Way To Live And Not At All A Trauma/Survival Response.)

I’m assuming this confrontation is what leads to their break up and then Sokka going off to pursue music further? I wonder, even all their other issues aside, what Zuko thinks about him travelling so far? As you said, we’re operating under the assumption that he doesn’t understand why Sokka couldn’t continue music and stay local. Even if things were perfect between the two, I imagine they still might not see eye to eye on that, which of course would just be another breaking point for them to tack onto the list.

As for their eventual reconciliation, Kaleigh @zukkau with her gigantic brain, said earlier that Sokka being the one to leave could also tie into a whole ‘I couldn’t ask you to uproot your whole life for me’ anxiety (especially if we’re painting zuko as a bit of a homebody here; hates change, likes routine) and that sets up perfectly for a “I would go anywhere for/with you” moment. All this to say that I think that would slot into this (^) narrative nicely.

If you have (or anyone has) anything more to add or touch on I would absolutely love to hear it, I am now fully in love with this AU and all messages and mentions of it are permanently welcome in my inbox and DMs <3 

[i-really-should-change-my-url]

Light the World Day 2

Day 2 is to write about someone who you think encapsulates christlike love. My choice is easy.

Ferret and I met 6/7 months ago. I was bored and lonely in quarantine, so I suggested a Merlin rewatch in one of my Merlin group chats. Two people accepted my offer, and Ferret and I clicked right away. Our type of humour and comedic delivery were very similar, and I knew this person was cool. The next night, I suggested another watch, but only Ferret could make it, so we ended up watching a movie instead, switching over to DMs. You know those people that you can skip over all the small talk (my least favourite part of meeting new people) and hang out as if you were lifelong friends? Ferret was the epitome of that trope. The movie ended, it was after midnight, but neither of us wanted to end the conversation. We talked until 8 in the morning, said goodbye to sleep, and then continued talking later that day. That was 6/7 months ago. In that time, she has become my flower field swaying in the breeze, my hot tea mug on a cold morning, my Irish cottage by the shimmering sea. 

I suck at essay writing so the rest of this is going to be in bullets.

- She picks up on what I am trying to say. Even if my mind uses some weird analogy, she gets it. Even better, she turns it back on me. The rosetta stone would have trouble deciphering some of our conversations.

- Speaking of that, she takes the time to tell me if I say something in an interesting way. “The way your mind thinks is beautiful” is a common phrase from her. Growing up in the house that I did, I never heard/hear that. On the contrary, my biological family and some of my school ex-friends made me quite self conscious about my intelligence. To hear that from someone who hears the dumbest things I let out of my mouth, it’s a magical thing.

- Any compliment from her is thought out with so much care. She doesn’t waste time on superficial “you’re funny”s and “I liked your writing”s. It’s “your jokes make me laugh so hard I scare the cat”s and “WOW THE LINE YOU ADDED THERE MAKES THE PREVIOUS SCENE SO MUCH MORE EMOTIONAL YOU HAVE A WAY WITH WORDS”s. 

- She listens to me. Really listens. When I need to talk about something serious, I know I have her full attention. I know I am her first choice.

- She has the compassion of Aslan, the emotional intuition of Luna Lovegood, the loyalty of Gwaine.

- She lets me in. I have had so many toxic relationships in my life, and many that were flower/gardener one sided. I am scared to my bones that I am going to become that toxic person to someone else, and she makes sure I know I am needed in her life just the same as I need her in my life. I am allowed to hear about and help her with her problems. 

- She validates. Validates my emotions, my thoughts, my opinions. Likewise as above, validation is something I didn’t get growing up (still don’t get it from my bio family but thank the gods I got better friends). When I have a problem, no matter how insignificant it actually is, she takes a moment to validate me, before moving on to helping me with said problem. 

- She is understanding of what I need. Sometimes I need to disappear in the middle of a conversation for an hour or so when I get home/back to my room after human interaction, to have some introverted battery charge time or solo processing time after a particularly hard day. When I do have one of these problems you have been hearing so much about, she does not push me to talk about it. She knows that is not always the best course of action. The custom response for us (and all of us in Methlin) is “Do you want to talk about it or talk about something else or get funny stuff sent to you.” 

- She would avenge my death in the most creative ways possible.

- Has actually saved me from drastic self destruction.

- I talked about our code word “yellow lighting” in an earlier post, but it’s worth repeating.  “She and I have this code word “yellow lighting” when we talk late at night, which means “I’m getting tired and I might fall asleep on you but I want to keep talking” and I think it shows just how beautiful our friendship is. We want to talk to one another as long as we both have the time and the energy, but we know that our sleep needs come first. This way, nobody is staying up way past what they should to keep the other one happy, and it gives a warning for why we may stop replying for many hours in the middle of a conversation. Which anyone with anxiety/abandonment issues can tell you, is stressful for your less rational brain. Someone can yellow light, and we might keep talking for hours after that, or someone might fall asleep in two minutes.”

- I want to 100% go buy a castle or build some cottages in Ireland with her someday. Yes we have specific plans. 

- These are not isolated attributes to only our friendship. I see her being this soft and kind and chaotically loving to everyone. Also this is just part 1. I could go on for miles about how she has blessed my life.

To anyone who knows @ferretsarefurryappendagedsnakes feel free to add on to this post.

[pehters]

anonymous asked :  what r reggie’s individual relationships with each of his band members

               OFFSTAGE. || Thank you for this question, anon!!!!!! Okay, let’s just jump right in!

ALEX. || A lot of this is based on all of the headcanons and development that I’ve done with @yearsunlived​, so it’s possible that this dynamic could be different with other Alexes. But since Flick is the Alex I write with the most — and in  fact the only Alex currently that I’m writing with, I’m going to go off of what we have developed. 

For our dynamic between Reggie and Alex, they knew each other first. They met in second grade when Reggie moved to LA, and this was at a time when Reggie didn’t speak much at all. Alex was bolder back then, and ended up just attaching to Reggie, and they’ve been together ever since. They never are together romantically, but Reggie is Alex’s first kiss, mostly just to get it out of the way for Alex so he could move on from focusing on how he’d never been kissed. When they were back in high school, they’d get mistaken for a couple a lot due to being physically affectionate, but neither really cared. Alex jokes about how Reggie’s basically his husband, and they do bicker sometimes like they’re together, but they’re just each other’s other half, you know? The silver bracelet that Reggie wears is a replacement friendship bracelet that Alex got him after they outgrew the ones they’d made each other as kids, and Alex has one made out of string as well. Reggie loves going to the beach or the mall with Alex to scope out hot guys and convince Alex to go talk to them. There’s basically nothing he wouldn’t do for Alex, and they tease each other and rib each other just as much as they are lovey-dovey assholes to each other, too. Ralex just hits different, you know? 

LUKE. || Okay, so my dynamic with Luke is a mixture of the incredible development that’s happened with @pahtterson and @timerased​ primarily, but there are so many INSANELY talented Luke writers and I’m just stupid excited to see what dynamics come up at all. But basically as per @pahtterson​, Reggie meets Luke because Reggie sneaks off to the music room instead of the playground during recess, and little baby Luke eventually meets him there. With both Alex and Luke’s development with my specific Reggie, the common thread of them meeting as kids is Alex and Luke having an instinctive understanding of how to communicate with a kid who doesn’t do a lot of communicating. In Luke and Reggie’s case, they let the music do the talking. After that day in the music room, they’re inseparable. 

But beyond that, and especially as they get older, Reggie and Luke ( and definitely Alex as well ) are bonded over how fractious their home life gets. Luke is living in the studio for about eight months before they died, and I headcanon that Reggie was there most of the time with him, and in the month or two that led up to their deaths and the Orpheum performance, had been living there full time as well. Luke had the couch, and Reggie had a little blanket next in the loft. There was this kind of heart-bond of their shared experience that really brought them together even more than they already were. The instinctive way that their souls reached out to music also was undeniable and they just work. 

I always default to Reggie being the most technical in the band, especially in terms of music theory and composition. We know he plays multiple instruments for the band, and so there’s an element of Luke writing the songs and then Reggie being a big part of ironing out the rest of the details like the harmonies and how he and Alex should produce a beat. So there’s a huge level of trust that has to inherently be between Luke and Reggie for Luke to have his faith that Reggie is going to help produce what’s in his mind. We see them collaborating together onscreen, and that includes Luke asking Reggie what he thinks about a riff. Luke trusts Reggie’s ear, and in turn, Reggie knows Luke’s style about as well as he knows his own. 

JULIE. || Reggie is a huge advocate for Julie within the band pretty much from the jump, and I think this is really important to the development of their dynamic! My Rulie dynamics are really informed by the development I have with @mohlinas, @sprkbright, @shinemade, and @dahliakeys​, though I have had some unforgettable moments with other Julie writers as well! But as far as their dynamic goes, Julie is really fortunate that even as she is facing struggles, she also has really unconditional support from so many levels. Her family is unceasingly supportive — even going so far as to being willing to move if it would help her heal — and believes in her 100%. Ray was going to go as far as sending her to a school a million miles away if it would just help her live her dream! And Carlos, when he realizes how important the ghosts are to Julie, stops his ghost-hunting and instead protects them in his own way. Flynn is one of the world’s best ride-or-dies and you really don’t have the same show without her there. Reggie falls into this sort of instant ride-or-die energy for Julie for sure. Since I HC that Reggie is the one who deals the most in compositions for the band, that also means that I HC that he’s the one who worked on Bright with Julie, being asked to rework it by Luke from a four-piece quartet to a piano and vocal solo. So Reggie is the first ghost for Julie to spend like a really extended amount of time with. And he has the easiest smile and talks about everyone more than he talks about himself and believes in her so much already, so that really lays the groundwork for how their relationship develops. 

For Julie, Reggie believes implicitly in everything she does. He really does think that she’s their guardian angel, and he wants to do everything for her. This really manifests itself in a really protective role — I know a lot of people call him a “brother” and this is accurate but I feel like it’s not all the way right. But it definitely does evoke that kind of unconditional support and devotion that Reggie ends up showing Julie. I love Rulie more than I love most things in life, just so you know. 

BUT THE MOST IMPORTANT PART, I think, to remember is that Reggie makes everyone feel like they’re the most important person in the universe when he’s with them, and it’s because he does truly believe that they’re the most important person in the universe when he’s with them. He believes in these people with every fiber of his being, and he isn’t himself without them. There’s a reason why Caleb appealed to Reggie by saying that he could stay with the guys if they signed on to be his house band. All Reggie cares about, when it comes down to it, is the wellbeing of his friends, and his friends are the band. 

[saharamae21]

In Uncharted Waters (Part 2)

Chapter 2! Thanks for all the support! I’m excited to continue growing and writing!

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Those who rush stumble and fall

I woke up to my brother opening up the door to the bedroom. I looked around and realized I was on the boat and that JJ was asleep next to me. He didn’t wake up when Jasper came up, but he stirred a little bit. I slipped out of his arms and walked upstairs with Jasp.

“Dad is on his way down here!” he said. My eyes went wide and I told him to stay down here and guard the door. I ran up the steps and out to the deck. I saw my dad walking down the dock and ran up to meet him.

“Jasper said you finally wanted to talk,” I said, trying not to sound guilty. He kept walking towards the boat and I kept trying to stop him. It was no use though. He walked right up to the boat, went into the cabin and stopped. Right next the door was JJ’s boats. I watched as my dad stopped and stared. “Those are Jasp-”

“No they aren’t,” he said. I could tell he was angry, but he was unusually calm. “If you’re going to sneak guys in, I would prefer it if it was under our roof, in different rooms, with your mom’s and I’s knowledge.”

“What?” I asked.

“If that Maybank kid is staying over, sleep in different beds,” he said and walked away. I stood there, mouth agape and confused. What just happened?

“You’re so lucky,” Jasper said, coming up the steps. “Dad must really feel bad and you know he’ll never admit it.”

“Shut up,” I said. I let out a deep breath and tried to ease my nerves.

“Don’t forget that we have dinner with the Thornton’s tonight and there is no way you’re getting out of it,” he said.

I let out a groan of frustration and went back down to the bedroom. I laid down and felt JJ pull me into his arms.

“Where’d you go?” he muttered in a raspy voice. I smiled and pushed his long blonde hair out of his face.

“To talk to my dad,” I said. “Good news is that you can stay at my house whenever you want. Bad news is that I have to go to dinner with the family tonight, so I won’t see you until later.”

I listened to him say he had plans with Pope anyways and prayed that he wouldn’t ask who dinner was with.

“You coming back over tonight?” he nodded and let out a big yawn. “Okay. We should be back by 8 or 9 and you can come to the front door.”

“Like of your house?” he asked. He was now wide awake. I nodded. I explained to him what my dad had said about coming over. He was just as confused as I was, but that didn’t change the fact that we had basically got my dad’s blessing to keep dating. We both got ready for the day. He kissed my cheek before leaving and told me he would be back around 9. Everything was perfect for a second.

The rest of the day was spent baking with my mother. She was going crazy trying to think of things to impress the Thorntons. I didn’t really care about that, but if something wasn’t right, we would have to hear about it forever. After an hour of unsuccessful cake frosting, my mom turned to me and told me I needed to make a pie. I sighed and got to work. Pie was my specialty. I baked up a classic apple pie and my mom hugged me tightly. I knew how much this meant to her. I went up to my room to change into a nicer outfit. I settled on this army green romper I had and some wedges my mom wanted me to wear. I heard my brother yell at me that we were heading out and ran down the steps.

I could feel the dread building in my stomach as we pulled into their driveway. After yesterday’s weird encounter with Topper and the whole boat reciprocity situation, this seemed like a horrible idea to me. Still, here I was. We parked the car and I got out quickly. Topper and his parents opened the front door and welcomed us in. His mom gave all of us hugs and his dad shook our hands. I exchanged an awkward look with Topper and stepped inside. The inside of his house looked like a million bucks. It was even nicer than our house and couldn’t believe the detail.

“The parents are going to chat for a while,” Mrs. Thornton said. “Why don’t you guys take the boat out for a ride? Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

Top led Jasper and I outside and onto the new boat. We were all awkwardly quiet as we departed. The truth was that Jasper was Topper’s friend through Rafe. They had never really hung out, one on one. None of us really knew each other. Even though Topper and I were in the grade, didn’t mean we ever spoke. I sat down and watched as the two boys awkwardly talked about what they’ve been up to without Rafe around. I didn’t pay too much attention to them though. I just felt the water misting me as I leaned over the side of the boat. I glanced up to see my brother taking the wheel and jestering at Topper to come talk to me. I felt him sit down next to me and ask to talk.

“About what?” I asked. Wasn’t yesterday enough? I thought I made it clear that there isn't really much to talk about.

“I just want to apologize without getting interrupted,” he said. “I want to be friends.” “Why?” I blurted out. They don’t care about me. They never have so why now?

“You were friends with Sarah,” he said and I rolled my eyes. “Which means you’re not a shitty person.” “That’s horrible logic,” I said. She was friends with everyone, but me for the longest time. “She was also friends with you and Kelce and Brittney, Carmen, Jane. Should I go on?”

“Just hear me out,” he said.

“No,” I answered. “Everything you do is because of Sarah Cameron. Start doing things because of you and maybe then we can be friends.”

We decided that was enough boating for one night and headed back to Topper’s. When we got back, the food was ready and the table was set. Even the food looked more expensive than ours. The dinner was going surprisingly well until dessert. We were chatting over the apple pie I made when his mom decided to make a comment.

“Wow,” she said. “This is really good Savannah. It’s really a shame that all your talents are being wasted away over on the south side.”

“Excuse me?” I said. I felt my mom’s hand on my arm, stopping me from getting up.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said with a coy smile. “I just think that that $30k could’ve been spent in a bunch of… better ways. That poor Maybank boy is following in his daddy’s footsteps.” “You know nothing about him,” I calmly said back. “Don’t ever compare JJ to Luke. They are nothing alike.”

“Poor boy was beating so badly as a kid, it was only a matter of time before he lived up to his name,” she said, completely ignoring me. My hands were balled into fists, my nails digging into my skin.

“Mom stop,” Topper said sternly.

“I just feel bad for the girl is all,” she said. “She’s had a rough time dealing with everything.”

My dad rubbed his face with his hands out of frustration. I got up, threw my napkin on the table and stared coldly at Mrs. Thornton.

“Thank you for dinner, but I’ll be leaving now,” I said and walked straight out the front door. I instantly regretted the choice of footwear, but I wasn’t staying in that house any longer.

“Hey, wait up,” Topper said, following me out. I could hear his mom yelling at him to come back, but he just walked over and opened up the passenger door for his Jeep. “I’ll give you a ride, hop in.”

I looked at him, hesitantly. I couldn’t figure out what motive he had by doing this. It was completely uncharacteristic of him. I looked at the road and knew my feet would have blisters if I tried to walk it in my wedges. I sighed, knowing my only option was to get in the car. What was five minutes going to hurt? I climbed in and sat quietly. He got in and we pulled out of his driveway. I didn’t say anything, just listened to the radio as my hair whipped around in the wind. We were coming up on my house when I noticed we weren’t slowing down.

“Hey!” I said as we passed it. We pulled into the marina a couple miles up. I tried to open the door, but he locked it. “This is kidnapping, you know that right?” “I just want you to listen,” he said. “I’m trying to do the right thing and I keep messing up over and over. I just don’t know who I am without Sarah.”

Finally, he said something real, something I could understand. Without JJ, who would I be anymore? I smiled at him.

“That’s a good start,” I said. He looked at me with a confused gaze. “If you want to be friends, that’s what you need to do. I hate all the bullshit. I want people to be real with me or I’ll never actually know who I’m friends with.” “You’re pretty cool Savannah,” he said. I faked a gag and laughed.

“None of that!” I said. He laughed with me and for a second it might’ve looked like we were good friends. I couldn’t help, but wondering if this counted as betraying the Pogues. “Can you please take me home now?”

“Yeah,” he said, knowing he had made some progress. I still couldn’t quite tell if this was a guilty conscious thing or what, but I was willing to find out. He drove me home, telling me about some embarrassing story involving my brother and we laughed. We pulled into my driveway and I was smiling ear to ear. I was so into the story that I didn’t even notice the bike parked less than 100 ft away. I got out of the car and instantly heard a voice behind me.

“Since when are you two friends?” JJ asked. I turned around to see him leaning against my front door.

“JJ!” I said. I could tell he was only seeing what was right in front of him, not the full story. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but he just hopped down the steps to his bike.

“Maybe I’ll just stay at home tonight,” he said. He put on his helmet. “Sorry Sav.”

He sped away before I could even say another word. I was so in shock by what had just happened that the feeling welling up in my throat took me by surprise. My chest felt heavy as Topper got out of the Jeep. He tried to apologize, but I wasn’t even listening. I pushed my hair back and tried to think about how to fix this, how to explain without him getting mad. I told Topper to just go home and sat on my front steps. How do I explain this? How do I make him see that it was a misunderstanding? Was it though or were Topper and I becoming friends?

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