#when his car stopped and i saw him leaving my heart broke into a thousand pieces ):

[sunofmoon]

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[oldermenlvrgrl]

Blue Swallow

On the road with Benny isn’t always a dream, especially being broke down on the side of the road in New Mexico.

Benny Cross x Reader fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, smoking, talk of marriage, talk of sex, anxiety, heated making out, of-13 touching.

A/n: I fear that my obsession with Benny isn't slowing

It was in the barren desert golden hour of New Mexico that Benny’s bike had finally choked. You heard the faint guzzle noise back in Arizona and his deep sigh. He hated stopping. Once Benny stopped, his high did and Benny always loved being high. It kept him sane. You clung onto his broad shoulders as he leaned forward for momentum. The heavy backpack with both his and your clothes weighed you down. The back of his golden hair curled at the nape of his neck was drenched with sweat. He wore a cutoff-sleeved leather jacket of the vandals colors. The sun beat him down as he drove. The sweat ran down his forehead into his eyes. The dry humid heat covers you both as a blanket.

He groans deep in his chest as the bike finally slows and he pulls over on the highway's shoulder. He hadn’t and neither did you see a car nor a bike on the highway for the past hour. The once great idea of traveling Route 66 in its completion seemed like a nightmare now.

He turned off the ignition and shifted to give you the key. You take it and put it into the backpack. It’s quiet and he doesn’t say a word, neither do you. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his vest and plucks one out to smoke. The smoke swirls around his head like a halo. His agitation calms into an anxious hum. He stays silent and smokes his cigarette for a while until it burns to the end. He takes another and starts to burn that one. He runs one of his hands through his hair to push back the fallen strands on his forehead.

Your hand falls off his shoulder and your fingers lightly trace over his tattoo. Planting your sweaty forehead on his back you breathe heavily. Throat hoarse from dehydration. Your mind was strangely calm at the inconvenience.

Nighttime would happen as you walked to the nearest city and Benny would rather die than leave his bike on the side of the highway. So with a heavy heart, he gets off the bike. He places his hand on the small of your back and the other takes your hand as he helps you off the bike. The cigarette dangling between his lips. His blue eyes look wild with the amount of blue in them. He pauses, his hip pushed out with one of his hands on his waist as he points forward.

“Town should be only a couple miles, keep close and don’t leave my sight.”

You nod softly at his command. He’s paranoid about going into the unfamiliar town with his bike not working and then with you. Ever since Benny met you he vowed to keep you safe from the world. You didn’t belong in such a demented world. Sometimes it was unbearable, he wouldn’t let you talk to some members of the club. When attending meetings or parties he made you sit by him or wouldn’t let you be too far away where he couldn’t touch you. He was being generous when he said to not be out of sight. That was just how Benny was.

Shuffling your feet begrudgingly you slowly trailed in front of Benny as he pushed the bike up the road. His hair fell over and stuck to his face. The veins in his arms stretched as he shoved the thousand-pound piece of metal.

Only a few minutes ago you were walking behind, you had stuck your thumb out to hitchhike, thinking it’d help. When he saw what you were doing in his mirrors, he turned around in a fever, almost dropping the bike. He stomped his way to stand in front of you sternly scolding you to keep your hands down. His face flushed red as he kept his anger to a minimum, his agitation heaved. The veins in his temples and throat throbbed with the rush of adrenaline. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if somebody picked you up and he wasn’t there.

Attempting to play Eye Spy, and numerous other games to keep your mind occupied. Benny was a lousy sport and didn’t want to play. You tried jokes that Johnny told you to lighten the mood and it made his mouth fall open with his cheeks and ears tinted pink. He’d never heard anything dirty come out of your mouth and now you were talking about naked hookers playing pool in bars.

You pointed excitedly at the small town ahead. Pointing and jumping with a wide smile. You put the backpack down onto the dirt, digging through the mountain of clothes and grabbing the paper pamphlet you’d grabbed at the last gas station about New Mexico. Enthusiastically pointing at the Blue Swallow motel and ranting about it to Benny. Once he finally caught up with where you were jumping. He kicked the bike stand out, grabbing both sides of your warm skin and pressing his lips onto yours.

Benny just prayed that his bike wouldn’t get stolen while he slept. He parked it right outside one of the motel room’s windows. He didn’t care if somebody was already renting out that room. That hunk of metal wouldn’t be moving until tomorrow morning.

The blue neon light of the swallows covered everything in its glow. He, unfortunately, looked like a wannabe blue fairy with his golden hair and pink cheeks, which you giggled at, remarking the thought to him which he embarrassingly retorted to not call him that. When you continued to explain why, pointing to his hair and cheeks. He looked around to see if anyone heard the conversation, grabbed your biceps, took you behind a wall, and almost didn’t have the heart to explain to you what it meant when someone called a guy a fairy. He looked into your eyes as they dimmed and he hated himself for tarnishing the concept of a fairy for you. He frowned and kissed your forehead when you began to profusely apologize. He whispered that you can call him the name when in private and it made you smile. He held your hand as he walked you back to where you first called him a fairy.

He opened the glass door for you and watched your little daisy dukes move in front of him. He almost sobbed as he felt the cold refrigerated air circulate around him. The scattered little fans worked as little pistons that propelled the cold air everywhere. The woman behind the front counter was older. She had long blonde hair and gaudy makeup caked onto her face. She read a Cosmopolitan magazine in one hand about American bikers. Disconnected with the world. You were wandering around the lobby looking at all the pretty shiny souvenirs.

“One room.”

She didn’t look up from her magazine and Benny thought about robbing the place.

“$100.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes, fishing out his wallet from his front pocket. He looked over to where you were, checking to see if you were still looking at postcards. The woman looked up through her big fake lashes and closed the magazine.

“I haven't seen any bikers around before, are you new?”

His eyebrows furrowed. He shrugged, he didn't really care to make small talk and all he wanted was his room and a Marlboro.

“Passing through.”

He mumbled. The woman grinned, reaching over the counter and touching his hand, pushing her breasts out as she leaned. He looked to the ceiling and gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching.

“You should pass through my room.”

She said softly and he shook his head.

“You don't get it, I'm with my-”

“Your sister?”

His mouth fell open, his cheeks rosy with shock. There was an age gap between you and him but he didn't think people would think of it like that.

“I'm sure she wouldn't mind.”

He feels your small hands wrap around his arm, feels the tug down as you yank him down kissing him quickly.

“I love this place, Benny!”

Some sick twisted part of him finds the reaction to the hostess humorous. Her eyes widen with fear and her mouth opens in horror. She finds a key and throws it at his chest, he catches it before it falls.

“I love it too honey.”

He whispers, kissing the top of your head before holding your hand and leading you out of the lobby. The key fob had the number 13 on it but he went to the door with a 7.

You questioned him why he was opening the wrong door and he shrugged saying that all the locks were the same and it was just an illusion of choice. It was dark except for the neon signs and street lights glowing in the room. You thanked God that nobody's stuff was already in there.

As he steps inside he immediately takes off his boots and colors. He shuts the door and locks it behind you, taking the straps of the backpack off of your shoulders and putting the bag on the chair in front of the vanity. The absence of the weight makes you sigh happily. He leans down and presses a kiss on your cheek with a small squeeze of a chaste hug.

He leaves his jeans and his muscle shirt on and props open the small window above the bed. He smiles as he sees his bike outside. Taking the pack of cigarettes out he places one between his lips and sparks it alive. Leaning over he turns the knob on the small tv to some western movie that plays. The sound is barely above a whisper. It's the only bright light in the room.

He can't see you as you shed your dukes and shirt, changing into a pair of his boxer shorts and one of his tattered shirts. Half of his face is shone by the light of the tv. The cowboys and Indians yell on the screen. The smoke swirls around his head and out the window. He lazily holds his head up against the wall. His chin jutted out to you. His lanky body half slumped on the bed and the wall. There's a no smoking sign above his shoulder. His muscle shirt is raised above the belt of his jeans showing the soft tanned curve of his abdomen and the patch of hair connecting his belly button to below his waist. His strong jaw stuck out to the side as he blew the smoke out the side of his thick lips. His eyes half closed as he fights sleep.

Watching eagerly as you come to the edge of the bed where his feet hang. He's always loved seeing you in his clothes. Something primal and proud swarms in his chest. He spreads his long legs a little wider and you step between them. Your knees hit the soft mattress as you crawl into his lap. Your thighs on both sides of his waist. As you lower your hips to his lap you feel the denim rub against the soft skin of your inner thighs. His boxers riding up around your waist.

He reaches out the cracked window pane and taps the ash off the cigarette. Lifting his hips up, you feel his belt buckle brush against the hidden nerves between your thighs. He presses his heated lips against the skin under your jaw. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as his kisses further. Your fingers running up and into his thick hair. Scratching at his scalp he moans into your cheek. He presses his lips on your neck. Taking a swift last drag of his cigarette, he flicks it to the pavement outside. His hands go underneath (his) your shirt. Flattening his palms on your back, along your spine as he runs them along the width of your torso. His tongue pokes out and leaves a trail of saliva as he continues down your collar. The cold air tries its best to keep it cold but the warmth of feverish bodies keeps it humid.

He removes his lips from your neck and leans his head back. His chest moving rapidly, his eyes are lazy as he looks at you through his lashes. Each heart beating like a horse running. He squeezes the fat of your waist, pulling you closer to him so you're chest to chest. You smell the cigarettes on his breath.

“I love you.”

He mumbles against your cheek. You whisper the proclamation back.

He presses a quick kiss to your lips, before deepening it. He takes his hands out from under your shirt and wraps his thick arms around your back squeezing you to him. Your mouth parts and his tongue licks across your own. You whimper something awful and his stomach churns and the lap of his jeans grow tight. He picks you up, shifts you to lie on your back, and slots himself between your spread legs. You can feel how much he wants you. It scares you how heavy it feels between your legs. His kisses slow as he breathes quickly. Yours matching his own.

Kiss swollen lips and a love-bitten neck. He tells himself that tonight isn't the right night for him to finally have you completely, so he shifts his body and lies behind you. Shoving his nose into your neck and kissing your shoulder. His strong arms wrapping around your ribs and holding you close. He kicks up the blanket around your hips. He's not cold, he's never cold when you're around but he knows that you do. He drifts off the sleep listening to your soft breaths, thinking about having to deal with the hostess to call an auto shop and dreaming of marrying you at the end of Route 66.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

broken trust. [epilogue] l Joel Miller

Summary:  you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings: +18, angst, smut, swearing, crying, unprotected sex (don't do that), unplanned pregnancy

A/N: this is the last chapter of this story. i wanted to thank you all for this journey. i didn't think i'd be able to finish it… but it was nice to write for these couple of wonderful people who always left some mark. you're amazing! i apologize for all the mistakes and shortcomings. I hope you will spend a few nice minutes reading my scribbles. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa 🖤 

[PART 5]

"Now you slowly release the clutch and press the accelerator. Slowly... Slowly..." the whole car shook several times "Ellie, calm down... It's nothing. You just have to..."

The car shook again and the engine stalled. A wailing groan escaped the girl's throat as she let go of the steering wheel.

"I'll never learn this." she sighed.

"Don't say that. You're doing really well."

"Really well?!" she repeated after you, and you wanted to laugh seeing her face "This fucking car has probably turned off a thousand times!"

"So what. Maybe if it turns off a few more times, you'll finally learn?" you lightly nudged her in the shoulder "Ellie, it's not the end of the world. Let's try again."

You had been sitting in this car for almost two hours. Ellie was getting angry the whole time, but she didn't give up. Finally, after a few more failures, the car slowly moved forward.

"Yes! Fuck, I did it! I did it!" she shouted in delight "See that? See that?"

"I see! You're doing great." you laughed "Now try to slow down and stop. Slowly... Ellie, don't kill Joel. Please!"

The car stopped suddenly and the girl turned off the engine. Happiness was written all over her face.

"Can we do this again tomorrow?" she asked excitedly.

"No problem." you replied and turned around as the door on your side opened "Oh! Hi, Joel. Are you back already?"

"Yeah, just a second ago." he glanced at you carefully and then his gaze moved to Ellie "You were supposed to watch her." he said seriously, although you could see the smile hiding in his eyes "Admit it, it was Y/N who talked you into taking her out of town."

"At this speed we'd make it to the gate in a week." the girl replied "And I keep an eye on her all the time! She's right next to me."

"I only left you for two days..." Joel sighed, but now he smiled "How are you feeling?"

"Good. Really!" you laughed seeing his look "I can't stay home all the time."

"But  you should. Come on, we need to change your bandage."

He offered you his hand to help you out of the car and slowly led you home.

Doc didn't want you to leave the clinic too soon, but you insisted. It wasn't until Joel suggested that you could live with him and Ellie for a while that they could keep an eye on you. You knew that Ellie felt guilty about what had happened, and Joel would feel calmer if you were close. So you agreed.

You moved into a small bedroom upstairs and within two weeks you really got into the place. Joel and Ellie didn't let you do anything for the first few days, and at least one of them was always home with you.

With some difficulty you convinced Joel that he didn't have to carry you up the stairs, you'd just walk really slowly. Then Ellie said that his old spine wouldn't last that long anyway, and you tried not to burst out laughing.

What was between you and Joel had calmed down too. You both felt like you were living in your own little bubble and you were fine with that. You saw him smile more often, and it melted your heart every time.

How could you know that his heart grew when he could go back home, where he knew you were. That was enough for him.

"You should take better care of yourself." he stated as you laid down on the bed and pulled up your shirt. "You still have stitches."

"I feel really good, Joel. You have no reason to worry." you replied, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom to wash his hands, and then returned to you with a small box prepared by Doc. "How was your patrol?"

"Quite normal. A bit boring." He replied, pulling up a stool and sitting next to the bed. "Did Ellie finally manage to start the engine?"

"Yeah, but she shook my soul out of me." You laughed. "She really wants to impress you, you know."

"She doesn't have to do that. But I'm glad you two get along so well."

His warm fingers slowly removed the dressing from your body and you both glanced at the healing spot. The skin was still slightly red, but the wound was fresh, so it didn't worry you.

"You were bleeding a little." Joel noticed, showing you a few spots of blood on the dressing.

"The stitches are pulling. I can't wait for Doc to take them out."

"Maybe you should have them a little longer?" he suggested, washing your wound and gently drying it with a clean towel.

"I suppose you think I should stay in bed until Ellie is of age." you stated and he smiled as he put a fresh bandage on you "I don't know what else I should do to make you believe that I'm out of danger.”

"Just be reasonable."

"Reasonable is my middle name."

Maybe you shouldn't have, but you really enjoyed your moments together. When he first touched you to change your dressing, it was almost intimate. It wasn't until a while later that you were both able to act more freely, and Joel made sure he wasn't hurting you.

For him, it was a nice feeling to have you under his roof. He missed what you used to have, but if what was now was all he could get - he had no intention of giving it up. Even though you were sleeping in the other room, you were alive, you were close to him, he could hear you.

You ate meals together, spent evenings together. You didn't flinch at his accidental touch, and it even happened a few times that when you entered the kitchen you stroked his back, Joel closed his eyes then because of this tender gesture.

He missed you even though you were right next to him. He missed being close to you, missed the warmth of your body. But he only had these few moments that were going to be taken away from him anyway.

It was getting quite cold and the sun was setting really early when you returned home smiling, although a little bit frozen. Ellie was curled up on the couch reading a comic book while Joel was adding wood to the fire when you stood in front of them and lifted your shirt to show your freshly healed scar.

"Doc took the stitches out!" you announced excitedly. "I should still be careful, but he says everything is okay now."

"Cool!" Ellie's face lit up. "How many scars do you have?"

"She should have as few as possible." Joel mumbled, glancing at the healed area from the surgery.

"I have two other pieces of news." you announced, sitting down in the armchair and smiling at them like you just won the lottery. "Since everything is okay, I'll go back to my place tomorrow. You can rest from me."

"No!" Ellie groaned. "And the second one?"

"I met Tommy. He said that since Doc doesn't see any contraindications, I'll be able to go back to my old activities soon."

Joel stood up. You noticed right away that he wasn't in the best of moods.

"I don't think you should come back so soon." he mumbled. "You shouldn't take risks."

"Joel, Doc says she's fine!" Ellie pointed out.

"Maybe, but she almost bled out on my hands. I don't want to risk that again."

Silence fell. The atmosphere became tense in an instant. All the joy you brought with you escaped like air from a burst balloon.

Joel avoided your gaze, but took a defensive stance.

"Ellie, can you go to Doc?" you finally said. "He said he could use your help. They brought him some supplies yesterday."

"Yeah, sure." The girl nodded, standing up and quickly putting on her jacket. "Just don't kill each other here." she mumbled and left, slamming the door.

You rested your elbows on your knees and intertwined your fingers, sighing quietly.

"Joel, you knew perfectly well that I wouldn't stay here forever." You began calmly, trying to choose your words carefully. "All of this was for a moment. Until I feel better. That was what you said."

"I just don't think you should go back to your duties yet. It's not safe for you." He replied, resting his hands on his hips and looking down at you.

"You can't watch over me all the time, Joel!" You groaned, getting up from your chair. "You have some kind of…obsession..."

"Obsession?!" He interrupted you mockingly.

"Yes! You can't control everything. You can't protect everyone. You know perfectly well that I can handle it."

"You almost died last time!" He growled.

"I'll die someday anyway, Joel. You can't save everyone..." You approached him and wanted to put your hand on his shoulder, but he stepped back. "I'm sorry."

You passed him and headed towards the stairs. You wanted to pack your things so you could leave their house the next day. You only regretted that the atmosphere had gone sour so quickly.

You were already halfway up the stairs when Joel's loud voice reached your ears.

"I love you." He said, his voice trembling. You saw that his eyes were shining in the warm glow of the fireplace, he was truly moved. "I've loved you for years. I should have told you in Boston, but I was afraid. I was too selfish, Y/N. I thought I wanted you to be safe, but what I really wanted was to have you all to myself. I wanted to hide you from the whole world like some fucking treasure. When I lost you, everything lost its meaning. I was alone again. It fucking scared me."

You swallowed hard, feeling your throat tighten painfully. Joel took a few steps towards the stairs.

"After all this time, I met you again. I don't know what I should do to atone for what I did to you, babe." he continued, and tears welled up in your eyes. "I almost lost you twice. I can't take it anymore... I love you. I love you so much it hurts. If you want to leave, I won't stop you. I can only promise you that as long as I live, I will fight to keep you safe." 

You didn't have time to answer. You opened your mouth, but Joel stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. Tears ran down your cheeks.

He felt empty inside. Everything that had filled him for the past few weeks had simply fled. It was as if someone had woken him from a deep sleep by pouring a bucket of cold water over his head.

He was afraid again. He felt that his hands were shaking slightly, so he pressed them harder into his jacket pockets. He already regretted telling you what he felt, but at the same time he was grateful that he had finally managed to get it all out.

He had never told you that he often woke up at night, because he dreamed about that night when you were injured, it still kept appearing before his eyes. He could still see your blood on his hands, he could still hear your weak voice.

Over all these years, Joel had forgotten what it was like to love. Love only reminded him of the pain of loss, and he didn't want to experience that again.

And then you appeared and became his everything. He had someone close to him again. And Joel was hungry for another person, closeness, intimacy, even love. When you slept next to him, he would often stare at you for hours. He knew your moves, knew your routines. Maybe you didn't even know it, but you had created a semblance of home with him then. He never dared to tell you that.

The last few weeks have been really good. And now he was going to lose it all again? How much more loss did he have to experience in this miserable life...

You couldn't sleep. You lay in bed and listened to the sounds in the house. Ellie appeared only for a moment, saying something about spending the night at a friend's house, and then she left again. You suspected that she sensed the nervous atmosphere and didn't want to stand between you and Joel.

He hadn't appeared until now. The house was quiet, and the clock quietly ticked off the minutes. It wasn't until around midnight that you heard familiar footsteps on the stairs and the door closing on the other side of the hallway. You lay there for a while longer.

Joel left you completely shattered, with a jumble of thoughts in your head and tears streaming down your cheeks. You cried for a while longer before you finally changed into your pajamas and laid down in bed.

But you couldn't take it any longer. You quietly left the room and walked barefoot through the cool hallway. Although you put your ear to Joel's bedroom door, you didn't hear anything. So you pressed the handle and slipped inside.

The room was dark, but you easily made your way to his bed.

"Y/N? What are you doing?" his slightly sleepy voice rang out as you got under his covers.

You didn't answer. You moved closer to him. Joel didn't even move. He felt your warm fingers touch his stubbled cheek, the warmth of your body right next to him.

And then you kissed him. For the first time in so long, he felt the taste of your lips again. They were salty from tears, but soft, delicate, just as he remembered. You kissed him slowly and didn't protest when his arms gathered you so that you were lying on his chest.

He wanted more. He slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. He caressed you, eliciting the most beautiful sighs he'd heard from you.

"I don't want to hurt you, baby..." he whispered as you stood up and with a swift movement took your sweatshirt over your head.

"I know, Joel..." you replied seeing his eyes shining in the dark "I'm always safe with you."

He stood up and sliding his fingers into your hair pulled you in for another kiss. It was strong and full of longing that had filled his heart for so long. You clung to him feeling how much you missed him too.

Joel's lips slid down your neck kissing then your collarbone and shoulders. Familiar fingers slid down your back and then you felt them find the scar on your side. He sighed quietly feeling the length of your wound under his fingertips.

"I'm fine." you assured him kissing his temple.

His hand slid lower. In the dim light from outside he could see a new scar, a trace from when you almost died.

"I love you so much, Y/N..." he whispered "And it scares me..."

"I know, I know..." you took his face in your hands and found his gaze "I'm scared too, but I love you and it gives me strength." his eyes gazed at you tenderly "Yes, I love you. I've loved you for a long time, even though I wanted to forget about it. But I don't want to go back to how it was when all we have is this moment. Make love to me, Joel. I want to feel you again..."

In an instant, he flipped you over onto your back, trapping you between his arms. Your lips collided again. You managed to take his shirt off and soon your hands could touch the body they knew so well.

He was yours. In that moment, you felt it completely. When he kissed your breasts, and his lips hungrily closed on your nipples, you felt the excitement growing between your legs. It was so familiar, and yet so new.

You were different people now, so this was different too.

You lifted your hips slightly as he took off your panties, kissing your thigh tenderly. His hands caressed your body, touching every spot that drew sweet sighs and moans from you.

When you noticed that his gaze had once again wandered to your scars, you helped him find his way back.

"I'm here, baby. I'm with you." You said quietly, touching his face and directing his face towards you.

His fingers slid over your juice-covered folds. Your body recognized him, his touch, his closeness. It was eager to feel him inside too.

"Tell me you want me..." he whispered as he slid down his pants and his hard manhood popped out of them.

"I want you, Joel. I always have and I always will."

"I need to be inside you, baby. Then I'll let you come on my fingers, on my lips, but first..."

"That's fine, baby. I'm in no hurry."

A faint smile appeared on his face. He grabbed his cock and ran the tip over your entrance a few times. When he pushed in slowly, you closed your eyes, moaning softly with pleasure at how well he stretched your walls. He pushed all the way in and Joel lay on top of you, hiding his face in that sweet spot by your collarbone.

"Fuck, amazing..." he groaned "I've missed this feeling. You squeeze me so good, baby."

"Move, please... I need you..."

When he moved for the first time, you already knew you were over the edge. His cock moved inside you slowly. Joel knew your body perfectly, he knew just how to hit you to make you let out all those moans he loved so much.

And he used that knowledge, you were falling apart under him into a thousand pieces. Your nails dug into his shoulders, but he didn't even feel the pain. All that mattered was you and that moment.

"I can't hold out much longer, baby..." he panted, thrusting into you harder and faster. "I haven't had you for so long..."

"I'm close... so close..."

He rose, threw your legs over his shoulders, and began to pound into you harder and harder. In an instant, your whole body trembled as you reached your peak. Joel groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. He thrust a few more times, then pulled out, spilling himself onto your lower abdomen with a loud moan.

"Oh, fuck! Sweet Jesus..."

You were both panting heavily, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from each other. He didn't have time to react when you unexpectedly sat up, grabbed his neck and pulled him closer, stealing his breath from his lips.

"I love you..." you whispered "I love you so much..."

A few months later.

"Do you miss this?"

"What do you mean?"

Ellie glanced at you from behind the book she was reading and widened her teeth.

"You know what I mean." she replied "Patrols, searching for supplies, shooting..."

"I definitely don't miss that last one." you laughed, but then hissed quietly as you stuck the needle in your finger "Fuck! I'm not cut out for this!"

"You have to be patient. You told me the same thing when I was learning to drive, remember?"

"Too good." you mumbled sucking on your aching finger "It'll take me forever to sew these buttons on."

The door slammed and you both raised your heads. Joel entered the house bringing with him the smell of freshly sanded wood. He smiled at the sight of you.

"Finally!" Ellie jumped up from her armchair "I was supposed to meet up with my friends, and you don't seem to remember how watches work."

"Sorry, kid. Tommy wanted to talk." Joel replied, walking up to you and kissing the top of your head "Go, if you have to."

The door slammed shut immediately and you were left alone. Joel plopped down on the couch next to you, his large hand resting on your rounded belly. He smiled when he felt a gentle kick.

"You're getting bigger." he noticed.

"Fuck, Joel!" you laughed, putting the material and the needle aside "You saw me a few hours ago. I don't grow that fast."

"You just think so."

You shook your head in disbelief. "I think you and Ellie decided to tease me throughout the entire pregnancy. Don't deny it! This morning she asked me if I could still reach the kitchen counter."

"And you can?"

You nudged him hard in the side. "Asshole!"

The news of the pregnancy came to you unexpectedly. Joel still remembered your terrified look when you sat down in front of him and showed him the pregnancy test you brought from the clinic. Your period was already five weeks late, but you didn't have the typical pregnancy symptoms.

You stared at the positive result without saying a word for a long moment, afraid of each other's reactions. Finally, Joel spoke first.

"Do you want to keep it?"

"I don't know, Joel. My mind is blank..."

And then tears rolled down your cheeks. He held you in his arms, and you cried and apologized to him as if this pregnancy was your fault. 

That night you talked about all the possibilities, all the scenarios. You both knew that bringing a child into such a fucked up world was the height of selfishness, but you couldn't make any decisions.

When you fell asleep at dawn, he stared at you for a long time, thinking about it all.

You were his everything. After that night together, you didn't leave his house, but even moved into his bedroom. Joel felt complete, for the first time in many years. After many conversations, you found compromises that satisfied you both and decided to try everything again.

And now - pregnancy. 

He didn't wonder when it could happen, it didn't matter. What mattered was you. If you told him you didn't want this child, he wouldn't protest. But you weren't sure about anything...

However, when you stretched in bed in the morning, mumbling a quiet "Good morning", Joel Miller already knew what he should say.

"Whatever you decide, I'll be there for you. If you want this baby, I'm all in. And you need to know that I'll do everything I can to keep you and the baby safe. I love you, Y/N, no matter what."

He finally felt like he was in the right place. He wanted everything with you - a home, a family, a future. He was finally thinking beyond tomorrow and he loved it.

"I think it's going to be a girl." he said, watching you get up from the couch to make yourself some tea.

"Really? Why do you think that?" you laughed, pouring water into the kettle.

"Just a hunch."

"Uhm. I like it."

"And I like you."

You smiled, and Joel thought that this was what heaven should look like.

Just like you.

the end.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p12

chapter 12: did i scare you?

warnings - mentions of crash

series masterlist

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room pierced through Y/N's foggy consciousness. A dull ache throbbed in her head and the scratchy sheets felt like sandpaper against her skin. Disoriented, she blinked, her vision gradually clearing until it landed on a familiar figure slumped in a chair by her bedside.

It was Nico. His head was buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Y/N croaked out his name, her voice a mere rasp.

Nico's head snapped up, his face etched with worry. Relief flooded his features as he scrambled to her side. "Y/N! Du bist endlich wach! Gott sei Dank! Was hast du nur gedacht?!Hitzeerschlag mitten im Rennen? Du bist doch keine Maschine!" [You're finally awake! Thank God! What were you thinking?! Heatstroke in the middle of the race? You're not a machine!]

The torrent of German washed over Y/N, her head swimming with the effort to understand. Nico, realizing his outburst, took a deep breath to compose himself.

"We were so worried," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I saw my whole life flash before my eyes. I couldn't breathe, it all stopped and...when they pulled you from the wreckage and when he pulled you up… I thought…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Y/N squeezed his hand weakly. "Nico I'm so sorry, I thought I could do it. I promise I wasn't trying to show off or prove anything. I lost control," her voice broke and Nico pulled her into a hug as she whispered, "Who… who pulled me out?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

Nico hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering. "He did. Lewis did," he finally said.

A heavy silence descended upon the room. Y/N simply stared at him, processing the information.

"Why?" she finally managed, her voice barely a whisper.

Nico reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. On the screen, a video played. It was a clip from the onboard camera in Lewis's car, showing him abandoning his own race and sprinting towards the flames that engulfed hers. The audio picked up his voice, a low growl mixed with urgency.

"Not losing another Rosberg," it crackled. "Not again."

The video ended, and a heavy silence filled the room. Y/N's eyes met Nico's, a thousand unspoken questions swirling within them.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Lewis walked in. He looked exhausted, dark circles etched under his eyes, a bouquet of lilies clutched in his hand. He stopped short at the sight of Y/N awake, relief washing over his features.

He looked hesitant, his gaze flicking between Y/N and Nico. "Y/N," he said softly. "I… I'm glad you're awake."

Y/N stared at him, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The heat of the inferno, the terrifying crash, Lewis's daring rescue, the unspoken words in the video… it all intertwined into a confusing knot.

Nico cleared his throat, his voice regaining its usual gruffness. "We'll leave you two to talk."

With a curt nod towards Lewis, he exited the room, leaving them alone for the first time since the accident.

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and a newfound sense of… something. Y/N didn't know what it was, but she knew this was just the beginning of a conversation that would change everything.

Lewis hesitated for a moment, then placed the flowers on the bedside table. "Y/N," he began, his voice hoarse. "I… I'm happy to see you're okay. I was so scared."

Y/N studied him, her gaze filled with a newfound understanding. "Why did you do it, Lewis?" she asked softly. "Risk your own life to pull me out?"

He looked away, then back at her, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and determination. "I couldn't just stand there and watch," he confessed. "Not again. Not after…"

He trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Y/N reached out, her hand gently touching his arm. "Nico told me what you said," she whispered.

Lewis flinched, shame coloring his cheeks. "I… I didn't mean it like that. It just… it brought back a lot of memories," he took a deep breath before continuing, "I remembered your crash in Monza in F2. They way you spun out of control when Liam crashed into you. I could hear your panicked radio message and the way you were in so much pain after the crash. The blood, the broken toes. And I didn't each get in touch after that. I couldn't let that be the way I ended it this time. I couldn't lose you again." He finished, tears glistening in his eyes.

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their past and the vulnerability of the present hanging between them. Y/N started, "Lewis when I saw your face pull me out, I shut my eyes. Because I knew that I was going to be fine. I knew that I wasn't going to die and nothing was going hurt me, because you were there. You may not agree with me Lew, but you are one of the only people who know me inside and out. At the end of the day, that is all that matters. So thank you for today and I..I owe you one forever" Y/N finished while wincing a bit as she moved.

Finally, Lewis spoke again, his voice barely a whisper.

"Y/N," he said, his eyes pleading. "Can we… can we try to be friends again?"

Y/N's heart ached for the lost years, for the easy camaraderie they once shared. She looked at Lewis, a flicker of hope igniting in her eyes. "We can try," she said, a tentative smile gracing her lips. "Maybe it's time we both let go of the past."

Lewis's face broke into a relieved smile, a genuine expression that warmed Y/N from the inside out. Perhaps, amidst the heat of the race and the terror of the crash, a seed of reconciliation had been planted. The road ahead might be long and winding, but for the first time in years, both Lewis and Y/N dared to hope for a future where friendship could bloom once more.

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life , @charli123456789, @heyheyheyggg

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[meliaki]

Broken without you

Jake X y/n

TW: death 💀

Jake was the perfect boyfriend. he and Y/n had a beautiful and loving relationship. Jake would often pamper Y/n with gifts, take her on romantic dates, and make sure she felt special and loved every day. However one day everything changed. Jake started to come home late, ignore y/n, and stopped asking to see her to go on dates.

Y/n woke up to a familiar buzzing of her phone, and she quickly reached for it without even opening her eyes. A text from Jake, asking to meet up. Her heart raced with excitement, and she quickly jumped out of bed, throwing on her favorite dress and running a brush through her hair. The idea of spending time with Jake again filled her with happiness and joy, and she could hardly wait to see him. Her world came crashing down when she heard these words "I want to breakup." A million thoughts ran through her mind and she burst into tears. After all that they went through he decided to break up with y/n for no reason. "Why?" She tried to keep her composure but failed as she was choked up with tears. Jake simply stood up and walked away, leaving y/n crying.

Y/n pov

It has been a week since that incident. I still can't get over him. I have many questions for him. "Why did he want to break up?" "What did I do wrong?" "Why did he leave me without an explanation?" These thoughts constantly rushed through my head. This has affected me to the point where I had to take leave from my work. I am constantly reminded of the relationship we had before our breakup that time where he surprised me for my birthday: that one date we went on to the aquarium, when he tried his best to cook breakfast for me but ended up burning the frying pan... the thought of these memories made me chuckle but I was hit with a thousand bricks when I came to a realisation of what happened. I missed the Jake who always made me laugh even when I am sad, the one who would always shower me with gifts, the one who would constantly bring me on dates every week.

Just then I felt the buzzing of my phone I picked it up to see Jake's mother calling me. "Y/n you really need to come to the hospital now!" I immediately rushed to my car and turned on the engine.

Jake's pov (1 month ago)

"You only have a month left to live." The moment the doctor broke the news, my heart was broken into a million pieces. "What am I going to do?, what about y/n?" I thought to myself. I do not care if I die or not, all I care about is y/n. How am I going to break the news to her? How would she react to this? How would she feel after my death? The life I had planned for the two of us was gone. We planned to get married and have two kids and a dog.

Just the thought of the future that could never happen with the two of us made my heart ache. "Why did this have to happen? What did I do in my past life to have this happen to y/n and I? All I want is to be with y/n forever..." I thought to myself as tears rolled down my cheeks non stop. I gathered my composure as I walked out of the doctor's office.

I debated whether to tell her about my illness or keep it a secret. Just the thought of her not being able to move on from me made me heartbroken. I would never want to see my girl like that. Eventually, I decided that keeping it a secret and breaking up with her would be the best option for both of us.

After several weeks of acting cold towards y/n, I no longer had the energy or strength to take care of her the way i used to, and  began to withdraw emotionally. My responses to Y/n's phone calls and texts became shorter, and i stopped asking to see her or go on dates. I could tell that Y/n was confused and hurt, wondering what she had done wrong to cause me to change like this but it is still better than telling her the truth.

It was a week before my death date. The day that I decided to break up with her. I saw y/n walk into the restaurant looking as beautiful as ever. I started to regret my decision. "I want to break up with you." I said in a monotonous voice while trying to control my emotions. She asked me why but I just walked away. The moment I was out of her sight, I couldn't help but break down in tears.

(One week later) It felt like an eternity lying on my death bed for a week. I wonder if y/n is coping well with the news. Everywhere in my body hurt especially in the stomach with my stomach tumor. I could feel my body starting to give up. "Jake!!" A familiar voice could be heard coming from the door. I immediately came to my senses and realised that it was y/n! "Why didn't you tell me about this!" Y/n sobbed with tears rolling down her face nonstop. "I didn't want you to be devastated after my death, I want you to be happy and free to live your life without the burden of my illness." I said while trying to control my emotions. Y/n immediately pulled me into a tight hug, that was when I broke down into tears.

Y/n pov

"Jake is in the hospital with a terminal disease!" Jake's mother said in a state of panic. A whirlwind of emotions overcame me as I rushed to the hospital. I can't believe Jake never told me this. I was devastated to realise that Jake had been going through so much on his own, and that he had broken up with me to protect me. "Jake!!" I exclaimed while running through the hospital room door. "Why didn't you tell me about this!" I cried while pulling him into a tight hug and not wanting to let go.

After he explained, I dip my head and he catches my lips in a deep kiss that tilts his head to meet me. He presses his mouth against mine in a passionate kiss. His eyes meet mine as he parts his lips and whisper "I'm sorry...y/n, I love you." When my mouth parts with his, it feels as though he punched a hole straight through my chest and makes a fist around my heart. It hurts, it's terrifying, I want this kiss to last for an eternity. "I love you too jake..." Sadly the kiss would never last forever. Jake started grimacing in pain while clenching his stomach. He was about to pass out. The nurses and doctors pulled me away from Jake and started doing medical procedures. Jake's body was about to shut down. The heart rate machine went from going up and down to ending in a straight line with a long beep sound, signalling the death of Jake. "Noo..." I cried as I kneeled on the ground weakly. If only I knew about this sooner...I would have been able to spend more time with him and care for him.

I was overwhelmed with a range of emotions sadness, loss and regret. I was reminded with of the wonderful moments we had shared together. The wonderful life we could have had if not for his illness. Despite the pain and regret I felt, i am grateful for the memories we have and will hold on to the love we shared.

Y'alls I'm still a new writer 😅 I really appreciate likes and reblogs 🥰🥰🥰

[ofshattermoxie]

It felt like a ton of bricks were pressed against her twisting the knife he put into her back. Alex Karev had always been the one man she trusted. The man she loved, and she hated for admitting it now that she was still in love with him. He left; he tossed a letter in her direction and disappeared. The deception, the lies he pressed on her. All the times he said he’d never leave her. All the promises that felt broken. Jo tried for a week to hate him, to want to toss all his crap he left behind out, but each time she sat in her car; she saw the small trash bag in the spot where she’d always drop the reminds of her gum and it reminded how much he did love her. Perhaps that’s why it felt impossible to let him go. 

Broken promises. Each promise felt like a longing, one Jo always craved for. It was hard for Jo to let her guard down; to allow herself to fall for Alex to allow him to see her flaws. Saying yes to marriage was a huge step for her. And now she felt sadness; the rings that stayed on the night table besides the couch. The bed unmade as she was now sleeping on the couch; the same couch she brought him when she had won the bet. Each inch of this loft screamed us; and Jo had no heart to leave, why should she? Because her husband woke up one day and decided his new found family was worth more than our love? Than the vows we made to each other.. 

It was stupid of her to write him, to keep writing. One mistake would’ve been to write him once, but to keep making the same mistake over and over again. Jo knew it was pointless, Alex was graveling, he wanted forgiveness, but did I hold it in myself to forgive? He left; he broke my heart. And his words on paper didn’t line up with that very first letter; with the one that had his name, his signed name on the line that terminated our marriage. And Jo couldn’t shake that sickness, she couldn’t stop herself from holding onto it all; but she was naive to believe it was possible to call and hear his voice without feeling the butterflies; the way her body longed to hear his voice again. 

“ I don’t know what you want me to say Alex, that I forgive you, That I haven’t tried to hate you everyday since those stupid divorce papers you put in motion. I tried to hate you, it would actually be ten times easier if I did hate you. But I don’t Alex. damn I still love you. I don’t owe it to you to say it, you broke me Alex. You ripped everything we built away. And I do dislike you for it. I would’ve loved you a thousand times more for being a dad. We’ve could’ve done it together Alex don’t you get that? But the choices you made, impacted not only me but you. I don’t know how to move forward from the scars you left.” Perhaps it was hash and unwarranted on Jo’s end to be in rage. But at the end of the day Alex broke the promises. He made this bed and now he had to be forced to lay in it. Shaking her head to herself; her eyes stared at the wedding bands on the table; a tether to him; a future that felt impossible now.

@InsolentMedico 

Hurt; Jo was built for the hurt. She’s experienced the let down her whole life. From hoping for a family to take her in, from the disappointment she felt realizing she was on her own. She experienced feeling not enough, unwanted. It was her childhood. But at this age and how far she’s grown Jo realized what true undeniable love was about. Alex Karev showed her what it felt like to be loved and how hard you could love someone. He made her happy, smiling from ear to ear. He made her feel safe. He loved her despite all her history and flaws. It was an unconditional love Jo never experienced before him.

And even when he left; she felt as if she couldn’t breathe without him. It took weeks to understand; to know the why. Man she was so angry so mad at him for being a coward. His letter was the words she never thought he’d say. He broke every promise he ever said to her. A vow he made to never hurt her, to never abandon her. But he did. And at the time she took the time to process to accept he was gone. Once Meredith, and Bailey got their letters and the word for a new peds surgeon broke the whispers were like wildflies. The stares and talk of Alex Karev leaving her. Jo tired to pretend to focus on her work. But each night she came home to an empty loft; until she found a friend in Levi; he was the intern she slept with. But a good friend now that he wasn’t out to beat her; or flirt with her. Jo even hid the letters from her roommate here. She wanted to keep her litter conversations with Alex a secret. At the time when she wrote that first letter it was a way of grieving the life she wanted. The future she thought she had. And now she was forced to pick up her own pieces. One letter led to Alex responding. It was a shock each time she received a letter. It was supposed to be therapeutic for the brunette; easier to let go. But instead it only made her keep writing; his words. His mind on why he left; on what was going through that head of his now. 

It captivated her forward. Jo kept telling herself no. He left you. He picked a new family; the family you never gave him. It was a pep talk to convince herself that it was in her best interest to let him go. But now; as she stared down at his letter. The words he spoke; the love drawn onto the page it made Jo be impulsive. It made her call. But did she believe he’d answer? No not after all the times he dogged her call.  Even when she was that pathetic girl on the phone begging to hear his voice. Begging for him to answer; to give answers as to why he lied; why he disappeared. If he was okay. All she got was silence; so yeah color her surprised when the dial broke; his breathing was heard followed by his voice. 

The voice she longed to hear. The voice that always made her smile; always made her miss him more. Jo never held back; it made her angry to feel love but also feel his abandonment. So it was no surprise to hear herself speak back to him. To call him out for his crap. It was a trait Jo was aware he always adored about her. 

“ Sure it doesn’t.. Alex there was like a billion other ways you could’ve gone about this. About handling the news you had kids. You don’t just abandon the life you were building..” Angry and hurt shown in her voice. Holding the phone tightly in her grasp the brunette let her eyes close taking in the memory of his voice. Even if it hurt to have this conversation. 

She missed him; he still knew how to make her heart skip a beat. Rolling her eyes at his words. “ Because I’m the one not afraid to tell you when you’ve messed up Alex.” Pausing briefly before she geared herself to say her next words. “ If you really think I wouldn’t of supported you when you found out then  maybe all these years were a waste of time. I would’ve wanted  the kids because they were yours. I would’ve supported you. I’m not angry because of the situation. I’m angry because of the little respect and credit you’ve given me..” Words hurt; and yeah her intention was to hurt him. He ripped her apart; and basically wrecked  her. 

And now Jo hung on by a thread.

[rin-itoshi]

mc’s departure | obey me

summary: how the brothers would react to MC returning to the human world after a year in the devildom

contains: fluff , angst , ?!!!!&;@;&:idk

♯ LUCIFER

he’s the one to see you off, reminding you of the many things he had taught you so that you’d never forget.

his pride is much too large to admit that he will miss you to death and that he loves you dearly.

after you’re gone, he’s gone for hours at a time, holed up in his room with as much as work as he can take on.

he overworks himself with the intention of getting rid of the heavy emotion on his heart.

everything reminds you of him, even the paper clip on his desk that you had once found under his bed.

he gets easily irritable, feeling rather empty now that you’ve gone and left him alone in this now quiet house.

barely leaves his room, only works.

never cries but gets quite emotional when he finds a belonging you left behind.

♯ MAMMON

he cried every single night up until your departure but never showed you that side of him once

after you left, he cried non-stop, not caring if he looked like a cry baby in front of his brother’s who watched him with pitiful eyes.

once his eyes dried up, he soon never returned home as he partied all day and night.

he forced himself to attend parties after parties in order to forget about you.

it never works because everything reminds him of you.

sometimes he sits in his car and just stares into space, wondering what you’re doing now that you’re back on earth.

literally cannot stand the mention of you or your name or he may break down.

pretends to be okay but can’t go a day without getting upset about your absence.

money soon becomes pointless when he realizes no amount of cash will bring you back to the house of lamentation.

♯ LEVIATHAN

curled up in his bath tub and cried himself to sleep.

stopped leaving his room in general, continuously playing games all day and night.

couldn’t look at his ruri-chan figures because they somehow reminded him of you and how much you used to admire them with him.

every inch of his room has your touch on it and it makes his heart ache painfully.

struggles to attend online school but manages to make it through the day by zoning out in class.

claims he doesn’t care about a normie like you but genuinely misses you

sends you messages, forgetting you can no longer contact him without your D.D.D

writes about how much he misses you on his blog fully aware you’ll never see it.

♯ SATAN

reading. that’s all he does.

he hides in his room and reads every single book he has stacked up along his room, even rereading them if he finished everything.

uses books to get his mind off of you—or more so the lack of you.

will sometimes get excited about a stray cat he sees but stops himself when he realizes he can’t tell you because you aren’t here.

gets angry. a lot.

the smallest things set him off and he can longer feign a smile when he hears your name or anything related to you.

he misses you so much that he wants to tear out his hair and rip apart all these book page by page.

his room is in shambles and he can’t seem to think straight anymore.

♯ ASMODEUS

loses his interest in everything.

forgets his skin care routine and lets himself go without caring about it.

forces himself to go to parties and tries to sleep with someone to feel better but when it fails, he stops sleeping around in general.

like mammon, he doesn’t come home often to avoid seeing the house he had lived in with you happily.

cannot forget about you no matter what he does, and that frustrates him the most.

wishes he had done something to stop you or at least slept beside you one last time.

neglects himself for a while.

♯ BEELZEBUB

poor bby isn’t hungry for once.

can’t seem to eat now that you’re not sitting beside him, giggling about something he had said.

spends a lot of his time doing weight training and exercising to get his mind off of you.

misses all the meals you used to make on the nights you were in charge of cooking.

sometimes forgets you’re not around whenever he’s about to go downstairs to eat dinner.

clings to belphie in hopes to fill the gap in his heart.

accidentally broke down your room door in an angry fit when your absence finally set in.

♯ BELPHEGOR

either he sleeps even more or somehow gets less sleep.

no matter what, he feels sluggish and blank.

locks himself in the attic, almost as if he was never released in the first place.

even though he hated humans, your absence affected him the most after he had grown to love you as a human.

nearly went demon mode on diavolo when he found out that you were being sent back to the human world.

partially wishes he never met you but cherishes his memories with you too much to ever wish for that wholeheartedly.

sleeps in your bed often to hold onto your lingering scent that was fading quickly.

complains to beel that you were nothing but a stupid human who turns their backs on demons like them, but he never means anything he says.

“Why is it so quiet in here?” Diavolo asks as he opens the front door of the House of Lamentation with Barbatos at his side. The man’s golden eyes scanned the entry hall, noticing how it was so eerily dark and quiet that it almost felt like something out of a horror movie. It felt like no one had lived here in over two thousand years. “Hello?”

Upon receiving message from Diavolo, everyone had exited their rooms for the first time in a while, looking like they were dragged through the mud. The state they were in made Diavolo jump with surprise, shocked to find that even Lucifer looked like he was ill. “What happened to you guys?!”

“What is it that you need, Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked as he ran a hand through his hair to compose himself a bit in front of the red haired man. “If is nothing important, may I kindly ask you to leave and return another time?”

Diavolo sighed, shaking his head lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what’s up with you guys, but I brought everyone’s favorite person along with me so sing your praises now!”

Mammon huffed, “If ya’ talking about that butler of yours, ain’t nobody care right now! We got bigger things to worry about!”

Barbatos simply smiled, taking no offense to the sly insult thrown his way.

Diavolo cocked a brow in confusion. “What? Of course not! It’s-“

The person stepped out from behind Diavolo, catching the attention of every single male in the room. The seven brother’s choked, staring at the one person they had longed for these past few days.

“[y/n]!” They shouted in unison, practically flying down the stairs to get to you. Mammon was the first to reach you, wrapping his arms around your entire body as he tackled you to the floor. The other brother’s climbed on top of you two, hugging you so tightly that you feared this would be where you’d die. “You’re back!”

Diavolo chuckled boisterously. “This is amusing! You lot are acting like you didn’t know they’d return today!” His laugh came to an abrupt stop when he saw the flat expressions coming from each and every brother. “Oh- Did I not inform you?”

“Obviously you didn’t.” Belphegor scoffed with a roll of the eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. “[y/n]...”

“Ya can’t ever leave again! I’ll seriously get angry at ya if this happens again! Ya either go to the human world with me or ya don’t go at all!” Mammon snapped, cupping your cheeks while getting dangerously close to your face to yell at you.

“I’ll severely punish you if you ever leave this manor without giving me a heads up as to where you’re off to. You’re not just an exchange student anymore. You’re special.” Lucifer explained, a panicked glint in his tired eyes as he reached out to pat your head gently with his gloved hand.

Satan sighed, pressing his forehead against your back. “If you leave again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control my emotions, so don’t leave.”

The avatar of lust whined loudly, “my beautiful self can’t handle a life without you! Don’t ever go anywhere without me again!” He clutched onto her waist tightly.

“Don’t... Don’t go anywhere.” Leviathan said with a sad frown on his lips as he held your hand, bringing it up to rest against his cheek. “It’s so empty without you.”

“Let’s eat dinner together, [y/n].” Beel suggested, his voice full of emotions as he drooled at the thought of dinner with you.

A million emotions ran through your veins as you sat there, basking in the warmth of their touch. It was overwhelming to receive so much love all at once but it was amazing.

A smile slowly crept onto your lips as you leaned into their touch, enjoying the way they clung to you as if you’d disappear any moment now. “I missed you guys, too.”

“What a lovely reunion!” Diavolo exclaimed happily, snapping a view blurry photos on his D.D.D to send to the group chat later.

After the heartfelt moment, they quickly disappeared upstairs to fix up their appearance before rushing downstairs to the kitchen where you stood. They clung to you like bugs to a light, hounding you about your sudden departure, only to find out that you had gone up there with Diavolo and Barbatos to help the man experience human world activities he had never gotten to try before. Diavolo was sure he had told them that but seeing as they were genuinely distressed, he assumed the message never reached.

Even though they were beyond pissed with Diavolo and his carelessness, they were just glad you were back. Them being here with you really was their idea of a perfect life.

a/n: UH YEA K GOODNIGHT

[flowerpowelltales]

Like Fall, Like Spring (Drake x MC)

PART SEVENTEEN

A/N: .............. i know okay? I KNOW. and i’m sorry! hopefully the last chapters will come sooner 🙊 THE WAIT IS OVER!

“Drake... What are you doing here?”

“Olivia messaged me you’re here. I came to tell you about my decision.”

“Which is?” Her heart was beating too fast. It was that moment. Her life was going to change, regardless of Drake’s decision. She’ll either end up super happy or super heartbroken.

She hated that she had absolutely no idea, not even a clue, which one it was going to be.

“Which is...” Drake started and pulled out their divorce documents. Riley gulped. So, divorce.

But then Drake did something unexpected. He started tearing the documents, one by one, in front of Riley. She felt tears pricking her eyes.

“Drake...?”

“I don’t want to get divorced anymore,” he finally said looking her in the eyes. “But I don’t want to lie and say I’m over what you did. It’s not a movie, it’s not a book, I was hurt for real and this pain doesn’t just go away like that. It’s not easy.”

“So what... What do you want to do?”

“I want therapy. I mean-- I want us to go to counselling. Together. You have some issues with your past and so do I. I think... it could help us. I’m willing to give it a try. You?”

“Yes, Drake. A thousand times yes. I promise I’ll do everything to make it work,” she said and saw Drake smiling. “Can I hug you again now? For the first time as not-divorcing married couple?”

Drake didn’t say a word but rather pulled her in a hug that felt not only like spring, but also like summers, and winters, and falls, and home, and new beginnings, and everything at once.

~~~~

Riley was pensively looking outside the window, trying to process everything. Drake was sitting on the couch, across from her, drinking coffee. She knew he was about to leave but there was still one thing she wanted to know.

“That night... I mean, day. That day when I woke up and you were gone but your phone was home... Where did you go?” She asked.

He looked up and put down his coffee.

“You won’t believe if I tell you,” he said, the corner of his mouth raising slighly.

“Try me.”

“I--” He shook his head. “Don’t look at me like this, it’s actually silly and not that deep. I went to get groceries. Yes, groceries, stop making this face. I went to that fancy place with tastless products you really like--”

“These are organic, Drake. Not tasteless. Organic,” she corrected.

“Same thing. Anyway, I didn’t take my phone because I was sure I’d be back in an hour or so, since that store is rather far. But my car broke down in the middle of the road, when I was driving back home. I had no phone and was in the middle of nowhere so I had to walk to center to find help but of course everyhting was closed because it was Sunday. I went back to the store but they didn’t want me to call anyone so I had to look for anything open to let me find help. When I finally did it was late and by the time they fixed my car and I went home, you were gone. And that’s it. That’s the whole story.” He shrugged.

“You went get my favorite groceries?” She asked and Drake nodded. The reality of him not wanting a divorce was slowly settling in.

“You had a rough night. I thought you could use some good food.” He wasn’t looking at her, suddenly becoming interested in his fingernails.

“Thank you,” she said and smiled but inside was dancing and having a whole party. Drake wanted to make breakfast for her. Drake didn’t want to divorce her. Drake was here.

“Drake?”

“Huh?”

“I love you,” she said and he looked up, nodded as if acknowledging it but didn’t say it back. It was okay. Riley knew it would take time before he’d be able to say it back. She was happy with slow progress as long as Drake was beside her.

~~~~

It was awkward when they reached Drake’s house. Drake put her bags on the ground and took out the key to open the door. 

Riley cleared her throat. “I can go sleep somewhere else if you’re not comfortable with having me in the house. We don’t have to live together anymore,” she said.

Drake turned to her, the key frozen in his hand. “You don’t want to live in this house with me?” He frowned.

“No! No! I want to! I do! I just don’t want to make things weird for you.”

“Living with my wife is not weird as far as I’m concerned,” he murmured and turned his back to her, opening the door. Riley mentally facepalmed herself.

“When are planning to go to therapy? I mean... Do we have an appointment?”

“Tomorrow,” Drake said opening the door and letting Riley in. He closed the door behind her and put her bags on the carpet in the living room. “We have a visit tomorrow and then another one on Friday. Twice a week. Is that okay?”

“Yes! Sure! Of course! Wonderful!” She hoped she sounded excited but Drake caught her lie.

“I can cancel.”

“No! Please, don’t. I’m just nervous. I’ve never had to tell anyone about my past but I’ll do it. I need to do it. Thank you for giving us a chance.” She smiled.

“Listen,” Drake trailed off as it trying to find right words. “If you’re not ready... We can wait.”

“I don’t want to wait. I waited that many years to tell you, the closest person I have and it was a mistake. I want to do it.”

“If you’re sure,” he said and Riley nodded. She started collecting her things and heading towards her bedroom.

“Can I ask you something?” Drake suddenly asked.

“Of course.”

“Max told me about your job offer. The one in New York. You said you weren’t going. Why?”

“I--I didn’t want to far away from you, to be honest. Even if we got divorced I wanted to be around. To maybe have you as my friend. I’m done being away from you.”

“But it was a good job. You would love it.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

Drake only nodded but didn’t say anything. Riley could swear he smiled though.

~~~~

It wasn’t a surprise that Riley couldn’t sleep at night at all. So many things happened - the divorce and then no divorce. The therapy which was happening today. And the fact that she was still here, still in Drake’s house. She could hear him tossing and turning all night in his bedroom too. 

Riley got up and went downstairs to make coffee - something they both probably needed. But when she reached kitchen, coffee was already waiting for her, along with her husband. 

Of course. Sleep or no sleep, Drake’s still an early bird, she thought to herself and said good morning. They ate in silence but when they were done, a doorbell rang, startling them both. 

Drake went first and Riley followed him. Were they expecting someone?

Drake opened the door and they saw Maxwell and Savannah standing there, looking slightly angry.

“Max, what are you--” Drake didn’t even manage to finish his question when Maxwell’s fist his Drake’s cheek. 

“Maxwell!” Riley screamed and caught Drake. 

“That’s for cheating on Riley with Olivia!”

“What?” Drake asked and dodged another hit. 

“I might not like Riley but until you two get divorced you can’t just sleep with other women! Especially not Olivia!” Savannah cut in.

“Errr, guys,” Riley started but Maxwell threw himself on Drake, trying to knock him out.

“CHEATER! LIAR! BETRAYER!” Maxwell yelled trying to hit Drake again. Drake caught both his hands and twisted behind them, shoving him against the wall. 

“I’m dying here for you Riley! Don’t worry about me! I’ll keep on fighting for your honor!” Maxwell said, almost out of breath and Drake rolled his eyes.

“Yea, brother, I can understand a lot but Olivia?”

“What are you talking about? What Olivia? Who’s sleeping with Olivia?”

“YOU! LIAR! CHEAT--HMPHHH!” Drake covered Maxwell’s mouth and turned to his sister.

“Can you please explain what is this maniac talking about?”

“Well, you went to Olivia’s last night thinking Riley is New York and then you kissed her and slept with her while Riley was hidden in the closet witnessing this silently,” Savannah said and Riley’s and Drake’s eyes shot up.

“WHAT?” They asked in unison.

“YEA!!! YEA!!! You thought no one would catch you, you LIAR AND HMMMPPHH!”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following. How did you come up with this?”

“Maxwell told me.”

“AND I WILL KEEP ON TELLING THE TRUTH TO THE WHOLE WOR-PHHHHH”

“And how did Maxwell know?”

“He was on the phone with Riley while she was in the closet.”

Drake and Savannah turned to Riley and her eyes widened.

“YEAH RILEY! YOU TELL’EM!”

“I mean... I was on the phone with Maxwell... but we were talking about my job offer... and then Drake came and Maxwell started coming up with those crazy scenarios and he hung up. I was not in a closed and Drake came to me, not Olivia.”

“What?” This time Savannah and Maxwell asked in unison. 

“He came to me,” Riley repeated. “To talk about our divorce. We’re not getting divorced by the way.”

“WHAT?” Maxwell asked, freeing himself from Drake’s grip to hug Riley. “That’s amazing, little blossom! I told you he loved you and didn’t want to divorce you!”

“You told her I was sleeping with Olivia.” Drake noticed.

“As a great poet and my role model, Hannah Montana, once said: everybody makes mistakes. I”M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!!” Maxwell hugged Riley and then turned to hug Drake.

“Don’t touch me, Beaumont. I’m mad at you.”

“Aww, bestie! I’m so happy for you and Riley! You can’t be seriously mad at me for having Riley’s best interests at heart!”

“I can,” Drake hissed and Maxwell backed away.

“Congrats, I guess,” Savannah said rolling her eyes. “I do not support this relationship after what she did to you but whatever you decide to do, Drake.” She turned rapidly and left their house without another word. 

“I’m gonna work on her, I promise!” Maxwell said, heading out. “I’m so happy for you! I could dance!”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Drake murmured but Maxwell didn’t listen. He run-danced after Savannah until Drake closed the door.  

Riley looked at Drake and a moment later they both bursted out laughing. Whatever that was - amusement, nerves before the therapy, relief - they were releasing the tension by laughing for a few minutes straight. When they finished they just stared into each other’s eyes, bracing themeselves for what was about to come.

The therapy.

TAGGING: @gardeningourmet @delightfullypinkglitter @alesana45 @walkerdrakewalker @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @lovingchoices14 @tessa-liam @gkittylove99 @texaskitten30 @twinkleallnight @rubiwalker @differenttyphoonwerewolf @nestledonthaveone @marshmallowsandfire @21-wishes @thequeenofcronuts @iaminlovewithtrr @angelasscribbles @ladyangel70 @tinkie1973 @belencha77 @lunaseasblog @alyshak92 @xpandass420x​ @queen-arabella-of-cordonia​ 

[zodiyack]

Rude! (3,000+ Follower Fic Special 1/3)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Billy stuff, lyrics, fluff

Song: Rude by Magic!

Words: 1,798

Summary: Billy's love for Hopper's daughter is too strong to be stopped by the tough Chief Jim Hopper. Despite being told "not in a thousand years", he plans to love her regardless.

Note: Thank you so so much! I love you all, and writing your ideas, as well as sharing mine with you, has been so fucking fun and amazing! I'm sorry for my lack of words, I wish being an author came in handy with writing this, however, all I can say is that I love you all from the bottom of my heart. I've seen people do shout-outs, and ask-related stuff with their follower things, and I may do that, I'm not sure. For now, I hope you enjoy this... Thank you all, again!

Also 1/3 means that there will be two other fics released for the 3,000+ follower present!

Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

"Saturday morning, jumped out of bed and put on my best suit. Got in my car and raced like a jet all the way to you. Knocked on your door with my heart in my hands, to ask you a question, 'cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man. Yeah."

Billy was freshly graduated, working as a lifeguard whilst his girlfriend worked her own job, both saving up for their chance to ditch Hawkins and move to California. Sweet Cali. Billy was excited to show the love of his life around the place he called home. Though, physically, he left the salty ocean and windy beach behind, the place never truly left him.

You could see it in his eyes. The waves crashing in his blue orbs. He swore the scent had just barely clung to his belongings; the smell of the tangy air that followed a majority of the state. Working at a pool was the closest he got to the memory of California. Chlorine was most certainly not the salted ocean waters, but with the circumstances, he decided it'd do.

The way his face lit up whenever he talked about his home...it made Y/n more and more excited to see it. His girlfriend had grown up in Hawkins, stayed there her whole life. Never once did the Hoppers leave Hawkins.

But the second that was introduced to Billy, he knew it had to change.

Although they were saving for a big move, Billy had...other things in mind with what to do with his first large pay-check (or series, rather. Working as a lifeguard didn't pay well with just one check). He began to work more shifts to make up for the money he'd spent, and one day after calling in for a day off, he decided to put his plan into action.

"Billy, stop messing with the tie."

"It's annoying." Hands slapped away his attempts of adjusting the black silk tie.

"Well it won't stop being annoying if you keep fucking it up."

For the first time in a long time, Neil Hargrove was calm. Not happy, not amused, not pissed off for some unjust reason- just calm. He wasn't wreaking havoc and he wasn't being an asshole to his son. Billy hadn't seen this side of his dad in quite some time, in fact, he thought something important was going on and he was about to fuck it all up. And then, Susan retreated to the living room with a camera and a freshly ironed suit.

"You're not putting me in that."

"And who asked for your opinion?" Neil deflected with a raised brow. One heavy sigh later and Billy was leaving the bathroom, dawning the whole black and white getup.

Susan clasped her hands over her mouth, a tear leaving her eye, "You look so handsome! Just like your dad!"

Billy rolled his eyes, "Great."

However, his careless attitude was swept under the rug when the blue Camaro pulled up to the police station, interrupting a clearly distressed Chief Hopper bickering with his daughter. Billy had to get himself together before stepping out of the car, jaw slack after seeing the beauty he got to call his date.

"Hello Mr-"

"Don't even try play nice with me, Hargrove. She's not going anywhere with you. End of story." Hopper kept his eyes trained on the blond, body tense like a snake preparing to strike it's prey.

Y/n grabbed Billy's arm, slowly directing him to the car, "And in the sequel, we find out I am going with Billy. End of that story."

"There is no 'sequel.' The writer got drunk and lazy." She paused, turning to face her father who stood tall, arms crossed and face unamused.

"So his daughter picked up where her father left off, and then the sequel was published and the two lived happily ever after, the end."

While her dad attempted to search for a line that would better hers and force her to stay, she pushed Billy toward the driver's side and slid into the car as fast as she could, rolling down the window as Billy started it up. "Bye! I'll be back before midnight!"

The two drove off toward the school, leaving behind a trail of dust and very, very, pissed off Hopper.

Prom was better than Billy thought it would be. He didn't want to go at first, but after Max found out and spoke to her mom about it (the little redhead a cupid-in-the-making), Neil pushed him to go (as he was "doing something else besides being a lazy-no-good rebel"). It was then that he called Y/n and asked if she'd be going.

The suit came in handy. Clashing with his rocker aesthetic, he put it back on once more. The once-annoying tie proved to be somewhat okay in the end.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, but the answer is no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude?

With a deep breath, he ran-over the conversation in his head once more. Like a script for an actor, he had thought of every possible outcome and every possible line for him to face it with. He almost chickened out as his fist rose to the door, but it was too late, for his knuckles rapped against it before he realized he was even knocking.

El opened the door, eyes wide when she saw the familiar mullet and button-down. "Papa..." She muttered as she backed away and out of view.

Hopper traded places with her, his lazy expression sobering up instantaneously, replaced with a grumpy scowl. "Hargrove."

"Mr. Hopper, sir."

"What are you doing on my front porch?"

He swallowed roughly, palms sweaty against his sides. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"You seem to be doing just that right now, Hargrove." Hop crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

Well, this was certainly not something Billy had thought of. He was on panic mode internally, attempting to find any response that could save his hide and accomplish what he set out to do. Unfortunately, the word-vomit button seemed to be misplaced under the button labeled "help".

"I'd like to marry your daughter, sir."

Hop's eyes grew just as big in size as El's had when she opened the door. He choked on his own surprise, coughing it off, then glaring at the boy in front of him. "Over my dead body, Hargrove. If that's all, I'd strongly advise you to get off of my fucking porch while you're still alive."

I hate to do this, you leave no choice; can't live without her. Love me or hate me, we will be boys- standing at that alter. And we will fly away, to another galaxy, you know. You know she's in love with me, she will go anywhere I go-

"Billy, he's just stubborn."

"No, no, I don't think he likes me."

Y/n sighed, rubbing her boyfriend's back. He hadn't told her of his proposal plans, only that Hop seemed to have it out for him. "It'll take time, but he'll warm up to you!"

"It's been how many years since he's met me?"

"To be fair, your reputation wasn't doing you any good until now..."

"It's not like that was fucking obvious." He slouched further down in the front seat of his Camaro. To Billy, all hope was lost. If he couldn't get Hopper to give him his blessing, he was sure he'd lose his goddamned mind.

Y/n frowned. Her frown flipped around as an idea popped into her head, her lips finding Billy's knuckles and quirking his attention. "Even if he never likes you, I'm not going anywhere."

Billy laughed softly, "he'll fucking kill me if you go against him."

"Eh, that's only if he can catch us."

"You're out of your fucking mind, Y/n Hopper."

"I know."

The rest of the night was spent in the Camaro, of course, doing one of Billy's favorite pastimes. By the time the sun rose, Billy was sneaking a kiss to a giggling Y/n before dropping from her window in the cabin and running to his car, parked far enough that Hop or El wouldn't notice. He blew her one more kiss, which she pretended to catch, then he broke into a sprint.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe; there was still a chance.

His knuckles hit the door again, shifting on his feet nervously. It swung open to reveal Hopper, an unimpressed look bringing no surprise Billy's way. It was quite expected, honestly.

"What." His tone made it clear he wasn't up for fucking around.

"Mr. Hopper, if you just give me one chance to prove to you that-"

"No, no, no, no, no. Let me make it very clear to you that I want you to have nothing to do with my daughter whatsoever. No marriage, no friendship, I don't even approve of you guys fucking or whatever-"

"We're in a serious relationship, sir. It's nothing like you think it is."

This made Hop laugh. He continued to do so, holding his stomach, until he realized Billy was unamused. "Oh, you're serious?... My answer is still no, Hargrove. My answer will always be no. Go find someone else's daughter's heart to break. You're not hurting mine."

"It's not like-"

Before he could even get the words out, he was met with a door in his face. Turned down, again.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend, 'cause the answer's still no!"

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude, rude?

Again, again, and again, Billy incessantly pleaded with Hopper. Different tactics were all met with the same answer; rejection.

He held up a sign outside the cabin, only for Hopper to close the curtain and chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

He asked at the door again, only for Hop to threaten to give him a black eye (which was met with "aren't you the sheriff? Isn't that illegal?").

He raced past the police station, Max leaning out the window with another sign, only for Hop to threaten them with holding cells.

He even went as far as to ask Max and El to help, but Hopper had none of that, and sent Max home with a rant full of nos.

However, if Jim Hopper thought any of it would get it into Billy's head that getting his blessing was just not happening- he was as wrong as Nancy when she claimed not to have feelings for Jonathan.

Billy had another plan in mind, and this one was impossible to say no to.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life? Say yes, say yes, 'cause I need to know. You say I'll never get your blessing "till the day I die, tough luck my friend- but no still means no!"

"Hopper." Billy stood before his desk, interrupting his nice date with a delicious doughnut, and earning a very annoyed glare. "I got Miss Byer's blessing. Aren't you two a thing?"

"You son of a-"

"I got Eleven's too."

"Hargrove, I'm gonna-"

"Before you cuss me out, I think you should know that I've got a stable job, an interview with a mechanic so I have a job when the pool closes for the winter, and I've got a house on the market I'm looking at. I'm devoted to your daughter and she's devoted to me. You may not like me, but I think you're a great dad, better than the one I was unfortunately stuck with. You raised a strong and amazing woman. She's incredible and I admit, she deserves better than me-"

"You don't have to say that twice." Hopper huffed, crossing his arms.

"I know she deserves so much better than me, I'm surprised she's even with me too. But she loves me, and I think you can see that. I love her too. I would never, in a million years, break her heart."

Jim stayed silent for a few minutes. The silence brought uneasiness to Billy, but that was intentional on Hopper's behalf. He finally piped up with a cough, clearing his throat, before his piercing eyes met Billy's blue orbs.

"I'll hold you to that, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human too? Why you gotta be so rude? I'm gonna marry her anyway. Marry that girl, marry her anyway! Marry that girl, yeah, no matter what you say! Marry that girl, and we'll be a family! Why you gotta be so rude? Why you gotta be so rude?

Bonus:

(after the wedding)

"What was that about a no?" Billy quipped with his infamous smirk.

"You're lucky I'm sheriff, Hargrove."

Why you gotta be so rude?

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s Own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.) 

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things. 

Chapter 1

“ Sign it. ”

I glared at him, feeling sick at the tone. The entitlement.

“No.” I said sharply and I could feel his anger swelling, morphing into something dangerous and deadly but I couldn’t care anymore. I was tired. Exhausted. This cat and mouse game had gone on , long enough. It wasn’t an even playing field, in any sense of the qword.

If today was the day I died, so be it. I would accept it. I would even welcome it.

I was done.

He had everything : an empire at his beck and call , enough money to pave the streets of Seoul in gold and an army of loyal associates behind him. His face was plastered on Billboards across the country , the President posted pictures of him on his fucking SNS and delegates from other countries had to wait weeks , just to get an appointment with the youngest billionaire South Korea had ever seen.

And yet none of those white collared dignitaries saw this side of him. The dirty, violent ruthless man who had more blood on his hands than anyone else in the country. My father’s. My brothers’.

Jeon Jungkook was both the most revered business man in the country and the undisputed king of Seoul’s criminal underbelly.

“You defiance only makes me want to break you in other ways Elena.” He said warningly and I felt my throat go dry. I stared at him, wondering how someone could look so expensively gorgeous and yet, like a hardened criminal.

The expensive silk shirt, the fitted slacks and the handmade shoes ought to clash with the dark ink that covered his entire arm and neck, the piercing on his eyebrow and the glint of metal on his tongue but it didn’t.

It just all came together to make him the most attractive man in existence.

I took a deep breath. Perhaps begging was the way to go?

“ You have my father’s company. You have my brother’s Hospital and you have the family mansion. It’s all yours. This bakery belongs to my mother. It’s all I have left of her. My sister in law is pregnant , due any day. She needs a place to stay and I don’t… I don’t have money to rent anywhere else.” I said desperately, thinking of the paltry wage I earned waiting tables. I could barely afford food for myself let alone for Jisoo and the baby on the way.

The bakery was abandoned but it had a roof. The furniture was crumbling but I could fix that. If I didn’t have to worry about rent, I could save up enough to make it livable. At least till I got a better job.

“I’ve offered you solutions for all of that.” He reminded me softly, eyes trained unblinkingly on me and I stared at him.

“I’m not going to be your whore.” I felt my voice shake.

He grimaced.

“You aren’t qualified to be my whore. And I don’t need one either. Whores are not my thing. I have a beautiful fiancée, don’t you remember? ” He grinned. I felt my heart ache because that fiancée was once my best friend. The only person I had trusted with my entire life. Lisa had betrayed my trust, had spied on my father’s operations and brought him down and I had the horrible, horrible inkling that she had also had something to do with my father and brother’s untimely death in a car crash.

But I couldn’t think about that. Every time I thought about her my heart broke and head spun, and I had to be at my maximum mental capacity if I was going to deal with her heartless fiancée.

“ If you ask me, you’re not fit for anything more than a back alley blowjob for a couple bucks. But Hoseok thinks you have potential. Join his agency, there are a lot of very wealthy men who have a bone to pick with your father. He made a shit ton of enemies. Most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of you. ”

His words felt like worms crawling all over my skin and I could feel the nausea churn inside me.

“I’m not signing the bakery over. You can call the creditors. I still have another year and half to pay the one remaining loan and they won’t come for me till then.” I felt my head begin to throb and Jungkook sighed.

“Suit yourself.” He stood up and I stayed still, watching his tall frame tower over me with ease. He gave me a small bitter smile. It was fraught with hatred and I stared back at him, knowing the emotion was probably mirrored in my gaze.

“Beautiful Elena. As pretty as the day you left me at the altar.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Your vengeance is petty and pointless and unfair…just like you.” I said angrily, frustration building u at his words. The way he talked about our broken engagement like it even mattered. It hadn’t even been real. We had hardly spoken and my father had called the wedding off at the last moment. But apparently, that had been the last straw for the Jeons. They had come after my father’s entire existence with a single minded intent to destroy him and they had succeeded. The man was dead . His two sons were dead.

But apparently it wasn’t enough.

Jungkook stared at me, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe. But it’s also deadly and potent. And it won’t rest until I see you reduced to nothing but a whore on the streets, spreading your legs for every man who can afford you.” He laughed. “ Saying no is a luxury , one that you’ll soon be unable to afford.”

I refused to be cowed, refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words scared me. Because they did.

They scared me so damn much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This bed is so lumpy… I’m so sorry, unnie..” I said apologetically but Jisoo shook her head quickly, palms cupping my face as I held her elbows, gently lowering her to the bed. I stared at her feet, feeling my heart race at how swollen they looked. That can’t be normal, a voice whispered and

I didn’t know if that was normal and I had no money to take her to a clinic. The social center we usually went to only allowed three visits per month and we had used it all up. I wanted to throw caution to the wind and spend the thirty thousand won it would take but that would mean no groceries for a week and surely bread and eggs wouldn’t stretch that long, even if I could sneak meals in the restaurant for myself.

“I’ve been feeling a little dizzy…I’ll just sleep.” She said tiredly. She was thirty six weeks along, not due for another four weeks but her blood pressure was erratic. Her lab numbers were oscillating and there had been talks of an emergency c section. Even with insurance it was way more than I could afford but I had my own jewelry, a few expensive trinkets from my teenage years. I’d been obsessed with diamonds and my father had indulged me and I had a pair of earrings left. I’d already sold the rest but this would take care of the medical bills for the birth itself.

“My shift starts in ten minutes. I have to go. Give me a call if you need anything…” I said softly and I saw the familiar blank and listless look come into her eyes. I knew she was depressed, dealing with grief and pregnancy and loss but there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing. I had applied for a bunch of other jobs but they never wrote back. It wasn’t easy, being rejected over and over again but it wasn’t like there was much else I could do. And the truth was I was resigned to this, accepted that at some point I would have to take more loans and be stuck in an endless cycle of debt for the rest of my life.

And I had made peace with that.

There was no future for me. And I was okay with just surviving.

If only Jungkook would let me.

Apparently, watching me wipe down greasy tables and mop up floors and toilets trying to earn just enough to get a few square meals didn’t soothe his anger. It only fueled it. Jungkook couldn’t fathom that it had been six whole months of me on the streets of Seoul and I wasn’t completely destitute yet. I’d kept myself and my sister in law alive, safe and it pissed him off.

He wanted to see me broken and on my knees, begging him for help. The idea of me somehow surviving despite him taking everything away from me, it just didn’t sit well with him.

I couldn’t afford to have him as an enemy so all I could really hope was that one day he would wake up and give up. One day he would just wake up and decide that I wasn’t worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I walked into my shift and noticed a familiar pair of high heeled Louboutins , completely out of place in my seedy place of employment, I knew I was in trouble. Lisa sat against one of the booths and her gaze was fixated on the door which meant she was waiting for someone. And when her eyes narrowed at the sight of me, I just knew I was the someone.

She wants to get me fired.

It wasn’t rocket science and I felt the urge to turn right back around and leave.  But I tamped down on it. I could get through this. I would get through this. Lisa and Jungkook got off on invoking reactions and I wouldn’t give them that.

Except it wasn’t that easy.

It was a nightmare, watching her demand and reject and walk all over me but the sleeplessness from the past few days made spacing out easier and I just stared away at the wall as she yelled and complained and made a scene.

“You’ve stopped fighting? Finally giving up? Good…” She hissed when the manager apologized to her and told me to meet him after my shift and I felt myself tremble in indignation.

“I won’t fight you or Jungkook, you and I both know I can’t afford to.” I said quietly and she went still, something flashing in her eyes for a second. It was gone before I could fully process it but it had been there. Guilt.

Lisa wasn’t a terrible human. She had been a dear friend. We had grown up together and she had even hugged and teased me when I’d been betrothed to Jungkook, all those years ago. I had been twenty back then, naïve and spoiled. While Jungkook had taken my father’s entire legacy apart, piece by piece, Lisa had been nothing more than a pawn. I remembered all the times I had let her home, how she would disappear for lengths of time.

Planting bugs all over the house. All over his office. Jungkook had been smart. Someone like Lisa, so fascinated by thr wealth she had grown up around would naturally jump at the idea of more. It wasn’t greed. It was human nature. And with her help he had destroyed everything my father had built over decades.

I shuddered. My father hadn’t been a good man. He had been greedy, yes. But he hadn’t deserved to die. And Jungkook would have to pay for that sin, someday.

“There’s a job waiting for you in Hoseok’s club.” She smiled cruelly , “ you don’t need this one.”

“The fact that you want to take it away from me, tells me that maybe there’s nothing left in you save.” I said blankly and she turned her nose up at me.

“I have Jungkook. I don’t need to be saved.”

I shook my head. She was so naïve. Men like Jungkook cared for nothing but themselves. But I wondered if women like her didn’t care for anything but the money that came with being his. Money was precious, I thought bitterly. I’d never realized how privileged I had been until I’d had it all ripped away.

“He’s the one you need saving from. And one day you’ll realize that.” I shrugged, not in the mood to offer her anymore life advice.  If she was alright with being a trophy wife in exchange for a few pretty shoes that was her prerogative.

Before she could reply,  my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked nervously and I felt my heart drop to my knees when I heard who it was.

I turned on my heel rushing inside and my manager gave me a look of surprise.

“ My sister..she’s… she’s sick. I need to go.” I said desperately and his eyes narrowed. It was the worst timing. He was already annoyed because of Lisa and I stared in disbelief as he quickly shook his head.

“No. I’m sorry Elena…I just can’t let you leave like that…” He said sharply.

It was so unfair.

“I haven’t taken a single day off in five months…” I said desperately..” Please, she’s pregnant..She needs me, she-“

“If you leave, you won’t have a job to come back to. I can’t do this.. First you make trouble with a customer and now you just want to walk out in the middle of your shift without any notice…”

“Fine. Fire me.” I snapped, because I’d just had enough of it. I was exhausted, and tomorrow I’d go knocking on some other tore and I’d get a job. I lived in Seoul …How hard could it be? For now, I had to get to Jisoo. I had to get the hospital and things would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t okay.

“I… You want to keep her in? So soon?”

“Her blood pressure is through the roof. There are signs of severe pre eclampsia and we want to get her started on a magnesium drip. Steroids to help the baby’s lungs incase we need to deliver…”

“Deliver..?” I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes, I’m sorry…. If her blood pressure doesn’t come down we’re going to have to deliver.”

I nodded, glancing at the bed where Jisoo was sleeping, her face swollen and I knew that she was sick. Really sick. She looked pallid and ill.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked hoarsely.

“We’re going to do what we can… But I’m going to be honest, we’re looking at a c section, a lot of meds and also some time in the NICU for the baby…. Can you afford it? Your sister’s insurance only covers 80% .”

I blinked, completely thrown. White noise rushed through my ears,  a dull throb settling right at the base of my skull and beginning to spread all the way to my arms and back. It was panic mixed wth anxiety mixed with despair and I couldn’t quite cope. The earrings wouldn’t cover all that.

“Oh… Oh..yeah.” I said dully, “ Of course I can… Let me just…. Can I have a moment? There’s somethings I need to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I carefully slipped the cash into the envelope, swallowing as I sat on the pavement. I’d got another call from the hospital, they had administered the steroids but Jisoo’s condition seemed to be worsening. They wanted to try inducing labour soon but they wanted me to pay for the room and for the medicines, and apparently, the earrings weren’t as valuable as I thought they were.

I fought nausea wrapping arms around myself as I stared at the cars whizzing by, the putrid city air clogging my lungs as I tried to come to terms with what was happening. Jisoo needed help. She was the only one left and she carried my brother’s son. I felt my throat clog when I thought of Daehwan. He had been a good guy. I had loved him. It wasn’t fair, what Jungkook had done to my family, I thought miserably .

And the only reason I wasn’t driven by vengeance or anger was because I was nothing like Jungkook. I hated him. I didn’t want him to live in my head, didn’t want to waste any part of myself on him , not even my anger. But it was hard when he wouldn’t let me breathe, always at my heels like a wolf : jaws snapping and blood thirsty eyes trained on me at all times. I couldn’t fathom his obsession sometimes. Surely, his hatred was uncalled for now? He’d taken everything from me anyway.  

There was a dull roaring in my ears, one that said that this was not really a surprise. I’d thought about it way too often, had considered it countless times. Had even spent one absolutely horrifying evening scouring the streets of Seoul’s red light district just to see how sex workers behaved.

I’d also realized that in the face of desperation, dignity didn’t hold much value.

You are going to pay your debts on your back and on your knees.

The first time Jungkook had thrown it at my face, eyes glinting with glee, my stomach had rebelled so hard. I’d been absolutely infuriated, had thrown a vase at him. And it had been awful,  watching him catch it out of the air with ease, his mocking laughter making my bones rattle as he shook his head, “ That’s how this ends, Elena. Mark my words.”

And it was pitiful ,  that he went through life so consumed with hatred and vindictive cruelty that he couldn’t leave me alone . He was pathetic. That’s how I saw him. A pathetic child who refused to stop tormenting the helpless ant on the floor although it was no match for his cruelty.

At some point Jungkook was going to win. And his idea of winning was seeing me stripped bare of the one thing that kept me alive : my freedom.

It had just happened sooner than I’d thought.

Because I knew what it would mean, to go to Hoseok. He would own me. Hoseok’s whores were all slaves, tangled in his web so badly that there was no hope of escape. He wasn’t cruel but he was smart. No one left the his ‘ agency’ once they went in. I would be lost, forever. And I couldn’t stomach it.

I stared at my knees, fists clenched on the fabric of my skirt. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. I considered it carefully. I had to do this on my terms. Had to make sure I retained some sort of control here.

And I knew just how to do it.

Hoseok picked up on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“I need help.” I croaked out.

The deep chuckle made my skin crawl.

“Elena Gong. What a wonderful, wonderful surprise. What can I do you for?” He drawled.

“Well sweetheart, I’m all out of charity so you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

I took a deep breath.

“I’m a virgin.” I whispered.

The line went completely silent.

“What?” The amusement in his voice died.

“You heard me and I’ll let you cash in on it. I’ll let you auction it off…” I tamped down on the burning protest in my lung, the screaming inside my head that said it was horrifying, that I was considering this. “ But only if you keep my terms.”

“What makes you think you have a say in that.” He said sharply and I laughed.

“I belong to your world, Hoseok. Did you forget that we were friends, once.” I whispered and he didn’t reply.

Laughter, kindness, a big brother I could always count on, hobi oppa, nine year old me with my fingers curled around his wrist as we ran all around the gardens , a smile so wide that he could spread sunshine on the gloomiest days. Different from Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi and the others. Willing to include a ‘ girl’ in his playtime. Lisa and I the only girls, not even fazed watching as the rest of them wielded toy guns and mock interrogation scenes, pretending to kill and maim and torture because that was the world we were born into.

“We’re not friends, Elena. Let’s get that straight. The only part of you that holds any value to me is th part between your legs. So tell me, what do you want.”

“When was the last time you auctioned off someone’s virginity? You know how much money you can make off something like that. Not just from the sale itself but from the entire night. Your club… Your gaming hell…. All of it.”

“You expect me to believe you’re a virgin. At twenty seven.” He scoffed.

“Put the word out, everywhere. If you find one man who says he’s slept with me , I’ll back off.”

“That would require me to tarnish your  family name. And you’re alright with that?”

I smiled biotterly.

“Isn’t that what you and your precious Jungkookie want? To see the last living Gong, be labeled as a whore and a slut.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’ll give you that. You can do it… You know that will only interest more people. As Jungkook so eloquently put it, most of them would love to fuck the defiance out of me.”

“What’s the catch. What do you want. ”

“2 billion won.”  I said firmly “It will be one night. One night only and I want enough money to pay off every one of my father’s debts, to get me an apartment for my sister in law and to support her and her baby for a year at least.”

“Done.” He said without missing a beat and I went still. What must it be like, to throw around money like that without a care in the world. And it sickened me that Jungkook was probably ten times as rich as Hoseok , the money my father owed him and his associates not even pocket change in comparison to his gargantuan wealth and yet, he stayed on my heels, snapping his jaws like a dog with a bone.

“And Jungkook doesn’t get to watch.” I said softly, knowing exactly what Jungkook would get off on.

That made Hoseok laugh.

“You know him too well. I keep forgetting he was madly in love with you once.”

I resisted the urge to vomit. Jungkook didn’t know love. He knew ownership. He didn’t love me, he thought he owned me. That I was his to play with…. For the rest of his life. And when my father had denied him that, just like a toddler in a toy store being denied a shiny toy to break and trample on, he had thrown a temper tantrum.

Except his tantrums always ended in death and destruction.

“That’s the deal. He doesn’t turn up there to gloat.”

“He’s heading out to Switzerland for a week , two days from now.” Hoseok said evenly.

“Good then. My sister in law…she “ I swallowed. “ She’s in a hospital in Yongsan. I’ll send you the address.”  

“I’ll take care of it. But I want you here tonight. I’m not going to drop a couple billion won on your head without making sure I’m getting my money’s worth. And I can’t have you changing your mind and bolting either. My reputation is on the line here. If I put out the word that I’m serving something so fucking delicious and then back out, they’re not going to want to buy Hobi’s wares anymore. You understand what I’m saying darling?” Hoseok drawled and I knew exactly what he was saying. If I agreed to this, it was blanket consent for him to whatever he wanted.

“I won’t back out. I can’t. But this is one night. One night with whichever bastard you choose and that’s it. I want out.  I don’t want you or Jungkook hounding me again. Ever.” My voice shook as I dug my fingers into my knees.  

“My men will be there in ten minutes. Sit tight, princess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at Hoseok as he carefully poured me a finger of whiskey, neat. He gave me a smirk and I shrugged.

“you remember.” I said casually, throat itching because it had been way too long since I’d had quality alcohol. I missed the burn,  the warmth , the numbness that followed.

“Of course I do. You could drink all of us under the table with little effort. It was spectacular.” He laughed and I leaned back against the couch, letting my head fall back.

“I was half certain that you would have a doctor around to make sure I’m a virgin.” I stared at him and he shrugged. “ Pointless. You’re twenty seven, you’ve probably had stuff up there anyway… Not like your hymen’s still going to be intact.”

I thought it was rather horrifying, that I didn’t feel nearly as mortified as I should. This was how Hoseok talked, matter of fact and open and that was why he was so popular. Anytime an important person came into the country, Hobi was the one who offered entertainment for the night. Hobi’s girls were always the prettiest, most well behaved and perfect. They were educated, knew what they were talking about and he didn’t force them into the life. They loved it, enjoyed it and it showed.

Not to say he was a saint.

Far from it.

Hoseok knew how to dine with kings in castles  but also how to wrestle with  swine in the gutter. The seedy brothels in Seoul’s back alleys were his as well, and he ruled his kingdom with an iron hand. The prostitutes there feared him, one look or word enough to silence any rebellion, any thought of escape.

He was called Hope. And yet somehow that was exactly what he denied the women under him. There was no hope here. There was only lust and power and money. You came to Hobi…. You never left .

I took the glass he offered, taking a small sip, savoring the taste.

“But you believe me. I wonder why.” I watched him closely and he scoffed.

“Between your father and Jungkook, no one ever really had the pluck to come anywhere near you  did they?”

Undisputable.

I sighed, leaning back to stare at him.

“Do you think dying hurts?” I asked softly.

It was frightening, how his entire body went stiff, eyes wide and jaw dropping.

“Elena, what the fuck-“

“Its just a question. You’ve killed people. You’ve watched them die… how do you think they feel?” I asked , curious.

“None of them wanted to die. If that’s what you’re asking.” The look in his eyes made me nervous.

I stared at him and the question was obvious. None of them wanted to die, but do you?

I didn’t.

“I’m not thinking of killing myself , oppa.  Stop looking so horrified.” I laughed. He shook his head.

“ Don’t joke about that. It’s not fucking funny.”

I sobered up, remembering with a jolt. Ah, of course.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” I said quietly.

Hoseok’s little sister had killed herself when I was seventeen. She was a year older than me and her father had lost her in a wager to a seventy year old man, known for torturing his bedmates. She had heard the news, taken a deep breath and taken a deep dive off the seventeeth floor of the condo where she lived with her mother.

I’d been engaged to Jungkook by then. And I had almost wanted it. Jungkook wasn’t old at least… twenty one to my seventeen.

“Just so you know, he’s going to find out. And he’s not going to like it.”

I shrugged. Three years is a long time to be preyed upon and now my mind was resigned to a life of being hunted. Hoseok was right. Jungkook would find out and he wouldn’t like it.

Good.

“I don’t care what he does anymore. All I care is that Jisoo and the baby are left out of whatever plans he has…. If you promise me you’ll keep them safe , I’ll cooperate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a baby boy.

I stared, fingers itching to hold the baby but it was impossible, the little one whisked away to the NICU right after with respiratory distress and Jisoo had gone into a seizure, eyes rolling back into her eyes.

She as alright now, resting in a VIP room with the best care money could buy. Hoseok had asked me if I was happy with the arrangements, and if I would name the boy after him.

I stared at the room, large and breezy and filled with flowers and gifts, toys and baby stuff and I knew right then that I had sealed my fate. I was going to have to go through with this. I could imagine how much Jisoo would protest when she came to her senses. The only relief was that it would take her a few days to be good enough to fight or protest. But then this would all be over and done with.

Jungkook would leave this afternoon. His flight was at three.

I would reach the club at five. The patrons would arrive at seven.

One night, I reminded myself , staring at the gentle rise and fall of Jisoo’s chest as she slept, my fingers playing with the soft skin on her wrist. The IV line went through her veins and I watched the gentle drip of it.

One night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t know how auctions happened and while I’d been prepared for the worst kind of humiliation,  Hoseok assured me that he wasn’t going to make me stand naked on some podium or something.

“Generally, I would do something like that simply for the flair of it but consider this a favor ….a respite because you were, as you said, once a friend.” He gave me an even smile and I could only nod in mute relief.

I was grateful. Beyond grateful.

And what was more, he hadn’t told anyone, who I was.

That stunned me. Because wasn’t that the selling point? The murderous, greedy mob rat Gong Hyo Suk’s only daughter forced to spread her legs for one lucky stranger? If Hoseok had cashed in on that he would have made a fortune. But he hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would , whoever it was be upset if he recognized me?

I was led to a bedroom, large and tastefully decorated with silky satin sheets and dark curtains and dim lighting that lit up parts of the room and left other parts plunged in darkness. Hoseok had told me to wear whatever I wanted and I realized with a pang that he really didn’t see this as some sort of transaction. He was trying to make it as easy as possible without making any decisions for me. Offering me choices and options and some illusion of being in control.

I didn’t have anything fancy so it was just a dress shirt that I borrowed from Hoseok. I’d left the underwear off, eager to merely get the whole thing over with. I felt a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh out loud.

If Jungkook were here he really would have lost his damn mind, simply because of how little this whole thing affected me. And that was it, really. He was always desperate for a reaction.

Earlier when this whole thing had started, I’d obliged him with that. I would scream, rant and yell….launch myself at him like a wildcat, scratching at him , fists flying  and it was obscene, how much he seemed to enjoy that. He would press me up against walls and tables , fingers choking the breath out of my lung, just so he could see me struggle and push back.

He fed off from every negative reaction I offered him and it had taken me a long long time that the way to beat him was to become passive, unresponsive. I would go limp in his arms, stare at him blankly as he tried to manhandle me and that…that had pissed him off. Because that meant I wasn’t playing his game anymore.

If the prey wasn’t playing, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It was drab.

Boring.

And I knew that Jungkook kept raising the stakes, kept tightening the noose around my neck….just to bring that girl out again. The one that had wanted to put up a fight . The one that wanted to mouth off even with the muzzle of a gun pressed against her head. The one who would spit in his face in front of all his associates, even if it earned her a vicious strike of his hand across her face.

I shuddered. They weren’t memories I liked reliving.

Well, if that was who he wanted, I’d make sure he would never see her again.

The door opening made me jump and Hoseok came in , with a wide grin on his face.

“Baby…. Your guest for the night.” He said softly and I peered over his shoulders, my heart and mind grinding to a halt when I caught sight of what had to be the most breathtakingly beautiful man on the face of the planet.

I felt my heart begin to pound, fear taking over because this wasn’t okay. Not really. I was okay with old, creepy and disgusting , not able to get it up for more than ten minutes.

I wasn’t okay with someone who looked like they stepped right out of the latest issue of GQ.

Hoseok left quickly, closing the door behind him and the man stepped into the light, the brightness lighting up his perfect features even more. I felt my throat go dry, and fought the urge to get up and run. Growing up as the daughter of a mobster , I’d learned how to trust my instincts over appearances.

And right now, every single one of those instincts screamed at me that this man was absolutely dangerous.

“Well, you are beautiful. I’ll give you that. “ He said casually.

“Thank you.” I said stiltedly, watching as he tugged on his tie, pulling it off his neck deftly . Instead of tossing it aside , he wrapped it a bunch of times around his wrist over and over as he smiled at me.

“Don’t thank me yet. The only reason I like beautiful things is because of how easily they break.” He smiled.  “ I haven’t been with a virgin in a while…. I miss the screams.”

And there it was the full blown panic that came with stark terror. I crawled back on the bed, staring as he moved closer and there was no mistaking the look on his face, the harsh grip of his hand on my ankle telling me that I was going to regret every one of the choices that led me here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hoseok wasn’t at the airport.” Jungkook observed casually, glancing at Yoongi as the latter finished cleaning his gun carefully, eyes fixed on his weapon with utmost concentration.

“He’s holding some sort of auction tonight. Some chick …” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook hummed. It was not the kind of thing he was interested in. Anonymous bids were often boring : actresses or female idols past their prime, desperate to make some money to survive. He had no interest in those but he was a little peeved that Hoseok hadn’t told him anything about it.

Hoseok was one of Jungkook’s most trusted friends. He was almost as powerfully rich as Jungkook and the only reason Jungkook reigned supreme was because Hoseok had no interest in challenging him for the throne. Hoseok was dangerous and cunning and loyal and Jungkook was grateful to have him on his side and he had hoped to see him before leaving. Just to ask him to keep an eye on Elena.

He grimaced, hating himself.

God, he couldn’t go two hours without thinking of her. It fucked with his head, the amount of space she took up inside him. Jungkook , for all his wealth and power, was driven solely by his need to prove himself. He wanted to be powerful and terrifying yes, but more than that , he wanted people to know.

He wanted people to look him in the eye and acknowledge him for what he was : the most dangerous man in the country. He liked seeing that fear, that worship, that admiration. He got off on it. He wanted it , craved it and for some reason he craved it more from her , than anyone else.

And instead of giving him what he wanted, instead of begging on her knees for mercy, instead of licking his shoes and begging for him to let her live….she ignored him. She looked at him with defiance and pride, her chin straight and her back unbending, her gaze locked right on him like she was his fucking equal….

And Jungkook, he’d taken a lot of insults. Taken more than his fair share of hits in life …..

But when she looked at him like that , like he was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe….

Fuck it drove him wild with fury.

It made him want to teach her a fucking lesson, to remind her that he owned her because he owned everything. To break her down, snuff out the flames of defiance that burned so bright in those ember eyes… Take her into his bed and brand her with his body. Till she was on the floor, on her knees covered in his spit and cum begging for mercy….

Because no one looked at Jeon Jungkook like that and lived to tell the tale..

“Seokjin’s here. Landed in Korea a couple of hours ago. ” Yoongi said casually and Jungkook smiled a bit at that. He loved his older brother, technically a step brother and growing up he had only saw him when he visited his mother in China. That meant a couple of months a year and now as adults,  a bit more often because Seokjin loved Jungkook and liked to visit him often.

Seokjin was a celebrity trainer, working with actors and athletes and he did a good amount of modeling as well. He was rich,  handsome and well liked and the only thing that gave away the Jeon blood in him was the fact that he was a sexual sadist.

The face of an angel with a devilish streak, he had a penchant for sadism and inflicting pain on his partners and while Jungkook didn’t particularly enjoy indulging him, he knew there were women who were into that and usually had them arranged for when Seokjin dropped by in Korea. His hyung’s visit seldom lasted more than a few weeks at a time and it was a pity that he would miss out one whole week of it .

But the issue in Switzerland was a little pressing and Jungkook had to be there in person to sort it out.

He leaned back against the seat, staring out of the window, sighing.

“An unsullied dove ….What the fuck is this shit..” Yoongi muttered and Jungkook turned, curious.

“What?”

“Hoseok’s been hyping up some new girl for the auction and Seokjin hyung’s bidding on her.”

Jungkook laughed at that.

“Jungkook…..” Yoongi’s voice is completely stunned, his eyes confused as he looks up at Jungkook.”  Its Elena.”

Jungkook’s thought process came to a grinding halt.

There’s a sound between his ears, a dull rushing sound like the wind in a storm and he can’t quite comprehend what he just heard. Even Namjoon who had been buried in his laptop , looked up then, tugging an airpod out of his ear.

“Wait…did you say Elena?” His eyes were wide , lips parted in shock. Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, no doubt bracing themselves for the explosion that was to follow.

Jungkook took a deep breath.

“Turn the fucking plane around.”

That jolted Namjoon out of his stunned stupor..

“Turn-? Jungkook what…. We’re on a fourteen hour flight-“ Namjoon began but the look on Jungkook’s face made him stop.

“DID I FUCKING STUTTER?”

Namjoon swore.

“Fucking hell… alright just calm the fuck down, Jesus…just put a fucking bullet in that girl’s head and spare us all the headache fuck…” He growled, unbuckling his seat belt and rushing to the cockpit and Yoongi groaned.

“ Let me guess you want me to get in touch with someone in Seoul and ask Hoseok to hold off on letting Seokjin near her…”

Jungkook glared at him.

“If you already know that why the fuck are you still here…” He growled and Yoongi gave him a look.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her and let us live, Jeon Jungkook.”

In love….. what the fuck….

He glared at Yoongi’s back, his asinine words making him madder. God he wanted to crush someone’s skull into dust with his bare hands.

And right now, in his head , that skull belonged to Jung fucking Hoseok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “What just happened?” I asked, frantic staring at the door as Hoseok’s men casually led a fuming Seokjin away while the man himself stared at me, looking pale as parchment.

“ Jungkook found out.” He said shortly and I felt my heart drop although I was half relieved because there had been something insane in Kim Seokjin’s gaze when he’d reached for me , a cruel glint of hunger that told me he would have hurt me really badly if Hoseok hadn’t barged into the room , frantic and worried.

He had given Seokjin a wide smile and then, “ I’m so sorry. We were waiting on her blood results and turns out she has a…. well, certain occupational disease that is very infectious.”

Seokjin’s mouth had dropped open even wider than mine.

“I thought she was a fucking virgin.” He had snapped, and I flinched at how cold and furious he had sounded.

But apparently there was a reason this whole thing had happened.

“What do you mean Jungkook knows? What does that mean?” I asked frantically, fear taking over.

“ He’s heading back here… He wants to see you.”

I felt my entire body go ice cold as I shook my head…

“No…fucking no bring Seokjin back here , he can fuck me that was the fucking deal, Hobi, please don’t../…”

“Elena , I’m so fucking sorry.. Seokjin…he’s fucked in the head…. He likes hurting his whores, likes making them bleed and he would have fucking destroyed you…”

I gaped at him horrified.

“What?!” I hissed shaking my head in disbelief.

“He’s Jungkook’ stepbrother. I’ve arranged whores for him before, I knew he was a little crazy but I’d never seen him before and I didn’t know he was the Kim Seokjin…fuck he outbid everyone and fucker looks like a fucking angel, how the fuck was I supposed to know he’s unhinged? Thankfully, I messaged Yoongi and …. Fuck… Listen… I know I paid for your sister’s surgery but you’re going to have to pay me back….”

I felt my body convulse in rebellion.

“I can’t.. You know I fucking can’t…”

“I can’t make an enemy out of Jungkook…. I can’t.” Hoseok shook his head. “ You can get out of here now if you want but I’d advise you to stay. If you run it’s only going to make Jungkook angrier.”

“WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO HIM?!!!” I screamed, feeling my composure crumble into smithereens. “WHAT THE FUCK DOES HE WANT FROM ME?!!”

Hoseok flinched, stepping back and holding his hands up.

“Whether I want to or not, I answer to Jungkook.  I shouldn’t have done this in the first place , I’m sorry Elena.” He shook his head and stepped back like the coward that he was and I wanted to hurt him. To shake him and ask him to fucking remember who I was. That I had nothing to do with my father’s sins . That I had been a fucking marionette in his hands, had wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“So much for being a friend…” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t look guilty. None of them ever did. It was like guilt didn’t exist in their world. They did what they wanted to whoever they wanted , whenever they wanted and they got away with it because that bastard’s word was law. What Jeon Jungkook wanted, he got.

“I’ll get your clothes sent in.”

I watched him leave, the door slamming shut behind him and sagged against the bed, staring at myself. What had just happened?

Was I born to endless misery and misfortune?

Couldn’t I catch a fucking break?

I’d agreed to sell myself hadn’t I? Would have even let Seokjin hurt me if that was what he wanted. Because it was one night. It was one night of this…whatever the hell this was and then freedom. That was the deal.

The door opened again and I stared as a young girl brought me a pile of my clothes neatly folded.

“Do you work here?” I said sharply.

She blinked before bowing her head.

“Yes, mistress.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t call me mistress , I’m here to get fucked, just like you. Tell me does Jungkook ever use the women here.” I demanded.

She looked trapped, glancing at the door, clearly wanting to run .

“Tell me.” I snapped and she flinched.

“I..uh..yes. Sometimes.” She said softly.

“Can you tell whoever fucks him next to kick him in the fucking balls?”

The girl bowed deeply and all but ran out and I sighed, feeling myself shaking. Jungkook was on the way here and I wanted to yell and scream and rave at him but I knew that was exactly what he wanted. I wanted to deny him the satisfaction …wanted to act all cool and composed in front of him but it was impossible…

Because I hadn’t realized just how tired I was of this whole thing, till right this moment, when the end had been in sight. I was supposed to get my two billion won pay off all the debt , give Jisoo the rest of the money and disappear. I was so tired, so tired of this life I’d gotten trapped into, slaving over for hours on end just to afford a couple of meals a day. No friends, no boyfriends, no hope of a future …..

The door banged open and I jumped, crawling back when I recognized the man who had just entered.

“Yoongi-“

“Jungkook wants to see you.” He ground out and I swallowed.

“I need to get dressed. Please just wait outside.” I said shakily.

And then the door opened further and a tall looming shadow stepped in familiar and vomit inducing.

Jungkook looked livid, piercing glinting through the dimply lit room and I stared at him. He was dressed in a tight black t shirt, he sleeves stretched thin over his biceps and the tattoos stark against his skin.

“Leave us.” He said softly and Yoongi moved away to the door leaving me alone with the devil himself. I cursed myself for not putting at least my panties on, I was naked underneath this shirt and although it was big it left nothing to the imagination.

Jungkook’s eyes raked over my form before resting on my face.

“You think you’re smart enough to outsmart me, Elena?” He whispered softly.

I swallowed.

“Send you brother back in. He can fuck me and I’ll pay you back.”

Jungkook hummed, stepping closer and grabbing my clothes from the bed, he grabbed the plain white bra and the pastel pink underwear and then to my complete and utter mortification he brought the clothing up to his face, breathing in .

“Fucking pervert!!!” I screamed, feeling the action like a physical touch and wanting to claw his eyes out and the smirk on his face told me that this was exactly what he wanted but I was too fucking gone to care.

“If you want me to be a whore, fine. I’ll be a whore. But on my terms…” I spat out and he shook his head, laughing.

“I don’t just want you to be a whore, Elena. I want everyone to know that you are one…” He dropped my clothes and moved closer, holding a hand out. “ Come here.”

I stared at the inked fingers, adorned with sterling silver rings and bracelets with the motifs of his gang. I shook my head.

“No. I’m not playing this game with you.” I turned my face away.

His hand shot out gripping my upper arm with enough strength to bruise and I screamed, agony shooting up my arm and shoulders as he dragged me off the bed and onto the floor. I landed hard, hips and elbows bruising from impact and I stared at him in disbelief.

“I’ve been to gentle with you. You’ve forgotten your fucking place.” He bent over and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me to my feet so hard that it felt like my scalp had been ripped away from my skull.

“Okay…okay…Okay Jungkook..just…!!” I said softly, flinching because my pain tolerance was almost zero and Jungkook’s grip was so hard that my eyes were beginning to water now. He let me go, grabbing my panties off the floor and tossing them at me.

“I’m going to count to five. Put those on and get out.”

He walked out of the door and I stumbled a little fumbling with the fabric before quickly, slipping my legs in and yanking it up to my waist. I made to put on something else but his voice came, loud and impatient.

“Get the fuck out here.”

I walked out of the door and he was standing there next to Hoseok. I couldn’t meet either of their gazes , hating how they had so much power over my life. I stared at the floor. It was tempting to yell at them and scream but that never led anywhere.

“ I’ve asked them to stop the payment on the Hospital bill. Seeing as Elena hasn’t kept her end of the bargain.”

I felt my breath hitch at that, willing down the tears as I glared at him.

“What do you want?” I snapped. “ Tell me who you want me to fuck…. I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with so you can go back to whatever sewer you fucking climbed out of. ….”

Hoseok’s breath caught like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said and the look in his eye was a warning but I was sick of this. Sick of them all.

Jungkook turned to Hoseok with a laugh.

“You see hyung? See why I can’t let her go? If I let her scot free, everyone’s going to think I’m a pushover….that any worthless bitch can talk to me any way she wants and get away with it….” He shook his head, staring at me with a glint in his eye. “ I’m not going to choose. They are. You think you can charm your way into Hoseok’s heart and get special treatment? You think you’re ready to be a whore, Elena? Let me show you how a real whore gets treated in Hoseok’s club.”

He gripped my wrist, yanking me behind him as he stalked off down the narrow corridor that opened up into the club. I let myself get dragged out into the club dismally aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but Hoseok’s shirt. I could feel eyes on me but I kept mine on the back of Jungkook’s head as he dragged me all the way to the front. I knew what he was going to do and at this point I was just numb.

There was no point reasoning with the devil.

I glared at him as he pointed at the stage. “ Get up there.” He whispered harshly.

I stared back at him, not moving. I saw Jungkook’s jaw clench.

“Either you go up there by yourself, with your clothes on. Or I carry you up there, after stripping you naked. What’s it going to be? ”

I glared at him, pursing my lips before climbing up using the small stair in the side. I moved to the center, right in front of the stage lights, so the rest of the room would disappear. I had no wish to see any of the bastards in the room.

“I think all of you recognize this little beauty here, don’t you?” Jungkook’s voice was cheerful, friendly even and I bit my lips, fists clenched. “ Well, if you don’t let me tell you . This is Gong Hyo Suk’s daughter. Remember that bastard? He put a hit out on my father. Killed him and my mom on the night I was supposed to be marrying his fucking daughter. A daughter who later called off the wedding, because I was too poor now, to give her the life she deserved. ”

I felt the familiar ice cold guilt in my vein. I was seventeen, I wanted to scream. I was seventeen and all I did was say what my father asked me to say, do what my father asked me to do.

“ That was nine fucking years ago… and you know what I told myself…. I told myself, that a greedy little bitch like this, doesn’t deserve shit.” He laughed. “ If money’s what she values the most, then the only thing she deserves is to be treated like the whore she is.”

“Why don’t you guys tell me, how much money you’d be willing to spend, to fuck her? Come on, Hobi’s been treating you guys so well lets help him make some money tonight… be generous. ”

I could barely hear what they were calling out but when Jungkook climbed onto the stage next to me, I jumped. Moving back instinctively, I winced when brought a forearm around my throat nearly choking me as he dragged up against his body.

“90 million won….That’s a lot.” He grinned. “ Jihan hyung….. that was you right? You’re gonna pay 90 million won for her?”

I felt my heart race, it was a lot. More than enough for the Hospital Bills, would even leave extra to get a decent apartment somewhere... I grabbed his wrist as it pressed into my throat, trying to pull his hand off me but he just wrapped his free hand around my waist, wrapping his entire body around mine and chuckling into my hair.

Jungkook pressed his head against mine and I froze, hating the close contact.

“Okay…but since I’m feeling a bit left out here…Why don’t I pitch in… 500 Won.” Jungkook said loud and clear.

I froze. An eerie silence fell over the club, laughter stilling and the clink of glasses slowing down.

What.

I struggled to get away from his but his hold tightened.

“Anyone else?” He called out. “ Come on… Not even thousand? Surely you think this one here’s worth a thousand won? Aren’t you going to outbid me?”

No one responded of course they didn’t. Jungkook’s anger was palpable and no one was going to get on his wrong side …..

“Ahh… is that it then? Bid’s going to close for 500 won then…. Hear that baby?” He whispered against my ears and I swallowed. “ 90, million won to five hundred won in a few seconds… What does that tell you?”

“It tells me you’re a fucking psychopath in love with your own voice… Get off me.” I hissed.

“No. What it tells you is that only I get to decide how much that body of yours is worth, not you. . You don’t get to go sell your fucking body behind my back for two billion won and then pay off all your debts and ride off into the sunset, that is not how this works….”

I went limp in his arms fighting tears because he never played fair. Never.

“Hear that Hoseok-ah… I win her for the night for 500 won…fair and square…. Is that alright?” He called out into the darkness and I felt the first inkling of dread begin to seep in.

“No.. No… get off me.” I hissed and he laughed, dragging me off the stage with ease. I screamed, kicking out in disbelief.

Jungkook grinned at me, before grabbing both my arms and yanking them behind me, and I whimpered, unable to move as he easily pulled me along to the door that opened into the hallway. Behind us I heard Hoseok’s voice.

“Jungkook, don’t be impulsive. Think about whatever you’re going to do.”

I flinched at that, panic building.

“He’s not going to do anything. I’ll fucking kill him if he touches me , I-“

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch.” He shook me hard till my teeth rattled and I sobbed out.

“Jungkook…” Hoseok warned but he merely snarled.

“I know what I’m doing hyung, just…. Don’t disturb us. And make sure everyone here knows that she’s open for business.” It was loud enough to carry through the club and I felt humiliation burn my throat, acrid like acid.

I froze in disbelief.

“Jungkook …” Hoseok’s voice held a tone of reproach.

“ And tell them that her body is amazing. Tell them she spent the night with me , the best fuck I’ve ever had , mouth made for cock.”

I stared straight ahead as he pulled me all the way to the room we had left earlier and I tripped when he shoved me inside, landing on my hands and knees . I quickly rolled back around to land on my ass, crawling back as he slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.

He stared down at me, mouth grim.

“You do owe me a wedding night. I was so ready to fuck your tight cunt, nine years ago… I think I’ve waited long enough yeah.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do, to yell and scream and protest and fight so he could get off and forcing me…. Fucking psychopath.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“If you pay for my sister in laws bills, and give me an apartment sure. “ I shrugged. “You’re not any different from any of the bastards here. I don’t give a damn which one of you idiots wants to rut into me like the absolute animal that you are…. I don’t care…” I said softly.

“you don’t? Really? You want me to tell you what your brother said when one of my men put a gun into his mouth…. He begged for his life…said he had a kid on the way….” Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “I told him it was better than what his father did…. My sister was six months pregnant when his lieutenant gunned her down on the streets.”

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself.

“Why are you telling me this…” I snapped.

“Because she didn’t deserve it did she, Elena? She didn’t fucking deserve to die like that , like a dog on the street when she had nothing to do with any of this…. She didn’t deserve it.” He growled, bending down and gripping my chin hard.

“Maybe she did deserve it.” I spat out. “ If I deserve to be here, maybe your sister deserved to die too. “

He snarled, hand flying to my hair and dragging me up off the floor in one sharp yank. I whimpered as he pushed me on the bed, before climbing on top of me. I felt like every bone in my body was about to snap in two, the weight of him unbearable on me.

“I won the bid tonight…. I won it fair and square… You signed the waiver didn’t you…that you agreed to the auction…I won and I’m going to fucking collect.” He growled, and I kicked out, trying to buck him off of my body.

“Get off me.” I hissed. “ I’m not letting you fuck me for 500 won.”

“How about for your Jisoo then?” He whispered and I went still.

“What?”

He chuckled, reaching down and I felt my pulse pound as he pulled his phone out, dialing quickly and turning on the speakers.

Yoongi’s voice made me go ice cold. Everyone knew what Yoongi did for Jungkook.

“Daehwan’s wife is in a hospital room in Yongsan. Hobi’s got the details. I think she’s served her purpose.”

“No!! JUNGKOOK NO!!” I  screamed , thrashing so hard my head began to spin but he grunted pressing down into me harder.

“Are you serious? I’m not home yet… I can take care of it tonight.” Yoongi said, voice casual and I sobbed, shaking my head in sheer terror.

“Okay… I’ll behave.. I promise.. please just don’t…”

Jungkook hummed.

“Well, that was easy… Yoongi-yah… why don’t you stay on the phone yeah…. Going to get that wedding night I’m owed and if my baby doesn’t co operate you know what to do, yeah?”  

I bit my lips, glaring into the sheets as he gripped my waist, pulling me up.

“Ass up like the bitch that you are, baby.” He whispered and I felt my entire body shudder in disgust. It was worse because I hadn’t done this before. Didn’t know what to expect. But I couldn’t let him know that. If Jungkook knew that I was a virgin, I could just imagine how much fun he’d have with that info.

Hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed and I turned my face away when I felt the press of his lips on my cheeks. He gripped both my wrists with one hand, keeping them pinned over my head and I flinched when I felt his fingers pulling the fabric of my panties aside, just enough for the blunt head of his cock to press against my slit.

“Yoongi, you there?” Jungkook said softly and Yoongi grunted over the phone. I felt my face flame in embarrassment.

“You’re a sick bastard but I’m used to it. What’s up?” he said casually.

“Remember how we used to wonder just how tight Elena’s cunt was… back when we were in school.”

Fucking monster, I thought in disbelief. I hate him I hate him I hate him….

“Good times…” Yoongi chuckled lightly .

Jungkook pushed into me in one hard thrust and pain shot straight up my spine, my insides burning like he’d fucked me with a knife and not his body. I couldn’t stop the cry of agony that got torn of me, my eyes tearing up and tears spilling over onto my cheeks.

“Damn Jungkook, she okay?” Yoongi’s chuckle made me want to claw his face off, and just the urge to kill was growing inside me.

“Well, I can confirm that it is, in fact just as tight as we thought…” He grunted, thrusting into me at a pace that was inhumane, every push and drag of him rubbing my insides raw and I bit down on the sheets under me, afraid that I would do something absolutely humiliating, like beg him to stop.

“Good, you should let me take that tight ass for a ride someday then. With her permission of course…. I’m a gentleman after all. Big on consent.” He laughed and I swallowed the urge to tell him that I would puncture his balls with a switchblade if he came anywhere near me.  

“Oh, she’s going to do whatever I ask her to….aren’t you baby…” He grunted, “ Turn around so I can see you.”

He pulled out of me, his weight lifting off my body as he moved away. I couldn’t move, limbs numb and insides throbbing in pain . His palm landed on my thigh, hard and the sharp sting of it made me jump.

“I said turn around, I want to see your face when I fuck you.” Jungkook growled. I stayed limp, breathing hard and he grunted impatient, fingers sinking into my hair , yanking me to my knees and the movement made my legs scream in protest.

“How’s she so quiet? You fucked the voice out of her, kook-ah?” Yoongi asked amused and Jungkook pulled me by the hair, dragging me to the center and pushing me down till my head landed on the pillow.

“Hyung you should see her right now, all fucked out …. Like she’s never had a dick in her before.” He shook his head, “ Fucking slut. Take that off and hold yourself open for me.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending and he grabbed both my hands, placing them on my knees.

“Grab your knees and pull your legs back… So I can fuck that tight cunt the way I want to.” He said slowly, like I was a dog he was trying to train and I stared at him , defiantly.

“ Go to hell.” I whispered.

Yoongi’s laughter came from somewhere to the right.

“Your dirty talk needs work, Kook ah… Tell her she’s a precious little kitten and she makes you feel really good…. Bitches love that shit…”

Jungkook hovered over me, grabbing the back of my thighs and spreading them wide enough to make me whimper in pain.

“Is that so babygirl? You want me to tell you that? That you make daddy’s cock feel good?” He cooed, nudging the tip against me again and I had never hated anyone so much in my life. I stared up at his face, and he smiled at me, a cheeky little grin that made his bunny teeth stand out and for a second he looked so deceptively angelic and the glimmer of his piercing caught my eye.

I couldn’t help but swallow, gaze trained on the glint of metal on his tongue.

“You like that?” He grinned suddenly, sticking his tongue out for me to see, I felt my eyes widen at how sinfully good he looked .” Hyung she likes my tongue piercing.”

“Show her how it feels on her clit.” Yoongi laughed and I could barely fully process what I heard before Jungkook was crawling down my body, arms, curling on my thighs and yanking me onto his tongue .

I felt the press of his tongue on my slit, licking right into me and the jolt of pleasure was so unexpected, the pleasure so unwanted and yet so overwhelming and I couldn’t stop the way my body thrashed against the streets, lips parted as I practically mewled out in pleasure.

“Definitely a kitten…” Yoongi called out and I shuddered as Jungkook slipped two fingers into me , the ice cold press of his ring inside me making me jump. I wanted to pull away, grab his hair and yank him off but I couldn’t because it was

“Next time I’ll put the dick piercing in too, yeah? Fuck you with a bit of metal on my cock so you can feel that up there…. ” He laughed into my thighs and I screamed when he bit into the flesh there , hard.

“I’m getting bored… Either turn on facetime so I can at least jerk off to this , or I’m hanging up…” Yoongi called out .

“Hyung she clenches down on me every time she hears your voice… Just stay on for a few more minutes yeah, she tastes so fucking good, I’m gonna cum soon….” Jungkook added another finger, slipping in deep before spreading them apart inside me. I whimpered when he pushed his tongue in between the wet digits, licking into my walls and I could feel the ball of his piercing drag against my walls, ice cold and hard.

Was it fucked up that I did clench down on him again, my body apparently a slave to my base desires even as my mind screamed that he was the absolute worst bastard on the face of the planet.

“Elena, you owe me a blowjob at least for this…” Yoongi called out and I glared at the phone.

“I’ll bite your fucking dick off if you come anywhere near me.” I snapped.

“Fuck, I could get off just to that mouthy fuckhole of hers…..” Yoongi grunted.

Jungkook pulled away, climbing back up over me and lightly slapping my breasts.

“Now, how about you open that mouth and let me fuck it?”

Yoongi snorted from behind us and Jungkook glared at the phone before glaring at me again.

“Well?”

“You want to know how hard I can bite?” I said sharply, the pleasure ebbing away into nothing and resentment taking it place, the momentarily physicality of the situation fading and the reminder of who he was and who I was entering my sex addled brain.

“No.. You’re right…. But you know what, I’m not feeling it anymore. I was right.. you really aren’t qualified to be my whore. Your body…it’s frigid like a fucking popsicle…such a fucking turn off. ” He reached over and hung up on the phone.

“Now…”he whispered, leaning in closer and I yelped, when his fingers closed over my throat..” Shut your mouth and take what I give you like a grateful bitch.”

I swallowed when he pushed into me again, his pace steady as he fucked into me, eyes closed and I realized that he was almost fully dressed having just unbuttoned himself enough to get his cock out.

When he stiffened, spilling into me his eyes blew open and he locked eyes with me, wide eyed and for one horrible second he looked young and vulnerable and hurt.

I blinked as he pulled out, the sticky warm mess of his cum dripping down my inner thighs and onto the sheets.

“Well, that was much worse than I thought it would be.”  He said and I stayed on the bed as he grabbed his phone and buttoned himself back up.

He smirked at me and then reached into his pocket.

I quickly pulled myself together, ignoring the aches and pains and getting to my knees before reaching for my dress on the bed. it was kind of pointless because I still had Hoseok’s shirt on and I wasn’t going to take that off in front of Jungkook.

“Well, I’m a man of my word , Elena so…here you go..just as we discussed.” He tossed a coin on the bed and I stared at the engraved 500 on the shiny surface, feeling my rage swell inside me.

“If you still want to work out a payment plan for your sister’s bills …. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow?” He tossed his card on the bed before  moving away to the door.

Fucking bastard.

Author’s note : My whole life is filled with regrets . 

[myimaginestories191105]

dating a doctor

Dr. Neil Melendez X Reader imagine.

Imagine you're telling your parents you're dating Neil. At the end of the conversation, you leave the house and have an accident, you arrive at the hospital where Neil works...

Word count: 999

To the Masterlist.

You breathed deeply and tried hard to honor your parents who stand in front of you.

"You've been dating a doctor for a year so far." Your father repeated what you said. You knowed he wouldn't be happy, and neither would your mother.

"We always dreamed you'd marry..." Your mother started talking, but you interrupted her: "And I've been telling you for a long time that this is never going to happen." You tried to be patient, but the anger and impatience you felt for a long time was felt in your words.

"You're not going to turn to us in that tone, (Y/N)!" Your father raised his voice, "We know what's best for you."

"You are my parents," You said, "But there's only one person in this world who knows what's best for me and that's me."

"And why are you dating this insignificant doctor?" Your father asked after taking over his anger.

"Insignificant doctor?" You asked, "Who told you that nonsense? I'm sure I didn't say anything like that. I'm dating a senior surgeon who works at the prestigious hospital called: 'San Jose St. Bonaventure Hospital.' Dr. Neil Melendez, in case you heard the name."

The conversation got worse... Your parents had informed you that they didn't accept that you're dating one man, While they picked another man for you. You left the house in anger. You won't have the strength for your parents more than ever.

You dropped your car to the hospital to meet your partner. When you were 2 miles from the hospital a car drove at a crazy speed in front of you and from here you remembered nothing but the intensity of the collision and the crippling fear.

......................................................................................................................

"Find Dr. Melendez! Now!!!" Dr. Browne screamed she lost her mind when she saw you like this. You were close friends, she introduced you to Neil. She was like your sister, she couldn't lose you.

Shaun ran through the halls of the hospital to find Dr. Melendez. He didn't know you personally, but Shaun You've heard your name thousands of times fome Claire in the last year. So he knew how important you were to Dr. Melendez.

Shaun finally found Dr. Melendez on his way to the hospital cafeteria to have his lunch.

"Dr. Melendez!" Shaun yelled when he saw his boss, "You must come with me now!"

"Dr. Murphy!" Neil said angrily in anger and when Shaun got to him he pulled him into a corner, "why are you shouting like a mad?! If I didn't know you, I'd be sure you ran away from the psych ward."

"(Y/N) (L/M) Suffered a car accident and is hospitalized in room 503." Shaun didn't have to say another word when he said those words. Neil ran into your room, when he came into the room and saw you sleeping in bed with stitches in his face and in sick clothes, he broke.

"By all the tests, she doesn't need the injury surgery. We just gave her a few stitches." Claire said, feeling the relief of knowing that you're not in mortal danger.

Neil knew that, but he still died of worry.

"It doesn't make sense that she's here." Neil said, trying to stop his sadness from sounding out. Neil had a heart of gold, but he preferred that everyone in his work think he was cold-hearted. "(Y/N), is a cautious driver. You know Claire, How is she here?"

"In the other car, the driver was drunk... It's his fault. We should be grateful that she's okay."

Neil knew he loved you from the moment he met you, but he only just realized how... You were much more than his woman, You'd be his life! If he lost you in that accident, he'd lose his mind.

Shaun got into the room.

"(Y/N) parents are already here." He announced.

......................................................................................................................

"Claire!" Your father rose from his seat "How is (Y/N)? She will be find?" He asked anxiously, Your mother couldn't get out of her legs and wouldn't stop crying.

"(Y/N)'ll be fine. She got out really cheap. She just needed a few stitches. She faces a two-week recovery period."

"How are those men?" Your mother asked, She meant Neil.

"I'm Dr. Neil Melendez, Dr. Brown superior."

"The man who's dating my daughter? She told you your name." Your mother said.

"Yes, I and (Y/N) dating last year." Neil said.

Neil really wanted to meet your parents, but he was worried about your situation and couldn't have a calm conversation with them.

Shaun got into the room, "(Y/N) woke up." He said and got away to give treatment to another patient.

......................................................................................................................

Neil got into your room, Worried and the relief was evident on his face when he saw that you were awake and that you would be back to normal in a few weeks. If that wasn't the case... He didn't know what he was going to do.

"(Y/N)," He said quietly and sat next to you, "You are up, my love." Neil stroked your forehead. He noticed that you had the fever and calmed down even more.

"Yes..." You said and kissed his hand.

"Thank God..." Neil whispered and kissed your head.

"I know I will be found." You said to calm your partner down even though he was trying to relax, You knew he was still nervous.

"Your parents are in the waiting room."

"When they realize that you're..."

"They already know and I don't think they like that fact... But we're going to deal with them together."

"They'll do anything to get me to marry another man... They won't tolerate you and..."

"Do what they do, I'll never leave you! You are my life"

Neil was serious. He wouldn't be leaving you because your parents saw the concern in his eyes. You could only hope your parents would understand it and accept him.

You knew Neil would be your husband one day and you couldn't wait for that day.

All rights to writing this story belong to me and it is forbidden to copy them/ publish them anywhere else without explicit permission.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 1)

summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2875

warnings: smut... sort of (oral f receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism (kinda?), touch of angst, lots of pining and awkwardness, jealous bucky being jealous, alcohol use (reader gets drunk)

Nothing annoyed you like being surrounded by stylists and being primped and prodded for hours at a time.  It made you feel claustrophobic to be touched so much: makeup artists only inches from your face, tailors watching you change, hairstylists nearly spraying you in the eye or burning you on the forehead every few minutes.

Not to mention how uncomfortable it was to actually be in the whole get-up once they were done.

But, such was the nature of a red carpet event.  This one was going to be particularly bland because it wasn't even a premiere or awards event but a launch party for a perfume campaign.  How lame is that?  It's one of those things that really only exists so that there can be pictures of it to put in a magazine, because they're always running out of good pictures of celebrities to publish.

Finally all dolled up to the point that you didn't look even very much like yourself anymore, your assistant accompanied you downstairs and into your driveway where your car was waiting; and, more importantly, its driver and your driver, Bucky.

He was a gruff sort of guy; certainly a man of few words and many brooding glares.  Sometimes you thought he didn't like you— like maybe he resented your fame or something— but then he'd turn around and be so sweet all of a sudden and you didn't know what to think.  For one, he demanded to open the door for you every time you got out of the car.  Sometimes he even extended his hand for you to grab on to, which was especially useful for red carpet events when you were usually wearing skinny heels that were impossible to balance on.

Such was the case tonight as well, and you smiled up at him as he helped you out of the car and up towards the steps of the venue.

"Thank you," you smiled at him, and he barely smiled back.

"Have a good night, madam," he suggested, a formal stuffiness to the way he addressed you.

You nodded,  "You too!"  That made you pause, though, because you weren't sure what his night would entail at all.  "Say, what is it that you do when I'm at an event like this?"

He seemed confused by your question.  "Um, I sit in the car and wait until you're ready to leave."

Guilt seared in your chest and you frowned.  "That's it?  You don't, like, go out?  Catch a movie?"

"Nope.  That would prevent me from doing my other job, which is watching the points of entry to make sure there aren't any threats to security going in."

"Right…" you trailed off.  "You could always come in, you know, grab some free drinks and stuff."

"I thought you didn't want any of your team following you around at events."

"Yeah, don't follow me around, just mingle and kill some time!"

Bucky shook his head.  "If I'm not there as your driver or as your security, then I'm not there."

You shrugged.  "Suit yourself, but please feel free to, like, get some food or whatever you wanna do while I'm in there!  Don't just wait on me!"

He smiled, but it looked a little rehearsed. "Thank you, madam."

You realized he'd been holding your hand through the entire conversation, cause you'd asked him your question midway through getting out of the car.  Awkwardly, you finally dropped his hand and waved goodbye, escorting yourself up the last few steps and into the door.

God, he must think I'm such a freak.

//

God, she must think I'm such a freak.

Bucky munched on the sandwich he'd had delivered (yes, to the car, how else was he supposed to get it?) as he dutifully watched the entrance.  Against your advice, he had every intention of just sitting around and waiting for you, but he wasn't bored; he had a Mets game on the radio to keep him company.

"— top of the third, bases loaded, DeGrom is at the plate with one swing left aaaaaand… he strikes out!"

"Shit," Bucky grumbled to himself around a mouthful of pastrami.

Glancing up, he saw someone stumbling out of the party: squinting, he realized it was you.  He looked at the clock with a furrowed brow, noticing it was a little earlier than he'd thought you'd leave, but then he saw that there was someone with you… a guy.

Bucky set his sandwich down and turned the key in the ignition as he watched you pull your phone out of your clutch— ostensibly to text him to bring the car around, but he was already ahead of you, quickly exiting the parking lot and circling the building so he could pull up at the steps.  He was about to get out to open the door for you but this random guy did it instead, before tumbling in after you.

"That tickles!" you protested with a giggle as your new friend started to kiss your neck, his hands all over you before Bucky had even gotten the car moving.

You were too drunk and distracted to notice that the partition was still open.  Of course Bucky had considered closing it, in fact he wanted more than anything to close it so he wouldn't have to see this, but some sick part of his brain needed to see it.  How else could he know if something went wrong and he had to get back there and stop it?  How else would he keep you safe?

How else would he get to find out how you sound when you're being touched like this?

He couldn't see too well with it being the middle of the night and all, but every time he drove past a streetlamp or particularly bright neon sign, the colorful glow would shine in and cast light over your neck where your head had fallen back in pleasure; or your collarbones, exposed where your dress had been pulled down; or your chest, rising quickly with the speed of your panting breaths.

Ogling you in the rearview mirror made him feel like a total creep, but it satisfied a bit of the urge he'd been feeling ever since he started driving you.  He wasn't actually a driver, at least not usually; he was more or less your bodyguard at this point, but you were really adamant about having a small detail and so that was why he was working double-duty tonight… and why he'd been doing so for almost three months now.

"Baby," you gasped, and his eyes shot right back to your reflection; you were writhing against the seat, and he could just barely see the top of the guy's head where it was buried between your legs.  You took your bottom lip between your teeth, lips curling into a relaxed smile.  His cock was not only hard but throbbing at this point, as if that was going to do him any good.  He barely ever got to look at you, and he knew he would never, ever be able to touch you— beyond holding your hand as you stepped out of the car, at least.  Whenever he did that, he imagined for a moment that he wasn't your driver at all but your date, that he would get to keep your hand as he guided you down the red carpet with him.  Not that he wanted any of the attention that you got, of course, but at the same time he did like the idea of all those photographers snapping pictures of his arm around your waist, or you looking up at him with your hand on his chest.  They'd all run stories wondering what a beautiful, successful, massively talented woman like you was doing with a guy like him, but he wouldn't find the energy to care about crap like that if he had you all to himself.  

Another whimper from you pulled him out of his daydream, reminding him to focus on the road as best he could.  He knew you would hate him if you knew that he'd thought about you like that.  Or if you knew about all those times he'd checked in on you while you slept at night and lingered a bit too long.  Or if you knew that he had rewatched that one sex scene you'd done in your last movie about a thousand times.  It always broke his heart to see you underneath some other guy (his name was either Dermot Mulroney or Dylan McDermott or possibly Dermot McDermott?) and yet it turned him on like nothing else to watch you immersed in pleasure.  Similarly, now, he couldn't stand knowing it was someone else making you moan the way he was hearing, but it was the best he was ever gonna get.

"Oh god," you sighed, "fuck, yes, yes, oh my god yes—"

His grip tightened on the steering wheel and it must have been the noise of the leather stretching that made you notice him; as if every dream and nightmare of his was coming true at once, your gaze met his in the reflection of the rearview.

He was so screwed, and he was totally going to get fired tomorrow, but he couldn't look away.  Your eyes were like dark magic the way they pulled him in, kept him locked on you as his face started to burn so hot it could cook an egg.  

Staring you down, he saw your mouth fall slack as your hands reached down to grab your date's hair and tighten into fists.  Shivers shot down his spine as he imagined the way it would feel if you pulled his hair like that.  

The longer you kept looking at him, the more a very dangerous thought danced in the back of his mind…

What if she wants me to watch?

Which, even more concerningly, started to slowly morph into another idea…

What if she wants me?

He was sure you were coming.  It wasn't obvious; you didn't say anything, didn't moan too loud, didn't scream or sob or call out any names (which made it easier to pretend it was for him) but he could tell.  Your swollen lips were parted silently as he watched your breath catch in your chest, and your hands clenched around fistfuls of hair.  What he would give for you to pull his hair like that, and come for him like that— except he wouldn't have stopped there, unlike your current companion who was already moving back up your body to kiss you hungrily.  

He'd always thought you had really pretty hands, and they looked pretty good sliding over the back of this guy's suit jacket, but he liked them best when they gently pushed him off.  "We're almost there," you mumbled as Bucky turned the car into the driveway, using his fob to open the gate.  

Once he'd come to a stop outside your door and turned off the engine, the three of you exited and stood up as you yawned and stretched.

"You'll take Jack here home, right?" you asked Bucky quickly.

"It's Jake…" the man corrected with hesitance.

"Right, Jake," you smiled, "you'll take him to his place, right?"

Bucky gave the guy a smile dripping with gloating contempt, loving the disappointed look he was wearing as he realized he wasn't going to be spending the night in your bed.  "It'd be my pleasure," he announced coldly.

"Great, thanks," you sighed.  Standing on your tiptoes to give the guy a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the shoulder, you thanked him for a great night and made your way into the house.

Jake looked around in confusion for a moment before getting back in the car along with Bucky, sighing and running his fingers through his hair.

"What address am I going to?"

"Uh, 333 15th Street, in Brooklyn," the guy replied, pausing to let out a soft but incredulous laugh as the car began to move.  "Level with me, man: does she… do this kind of thing, a lot?  You know: bring guys over, make it seem like something's gonna… happen, but then just send ‘em back home and never call again?"

With a silent glare, Bucky rolled up the partition.

//

You heard the front door, even from your current location of the shower upstairs, and knew Bucky was home— okay, not exactly ‘home’ since he didn't leave here full-time, but home in the sense that he was in your home and in the place he would be staying tonight.  You just hoped he'd actually stopped the car before kicking Jake out; he never cared much for when you had guys over or really just interacted with guys at all, because of the "security risks" or whatever.

Next, you heard him coming up the stairs and passing by your door.  "Hey, Bucky, you out there?" you called to him.

"Yeah, what is it?" he answered through the door. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just—" you stopped when you heard the crinkling of paper.  "What is that?  Do you have food?"

"Um, yeah," he answered.

Your stomach growled; the event had only had tiny hors d'oeuvres, and the alcohol in your system enhanced your desire for a midnight snack.  "What kinda food?"

"It's a sandwich— well, what's left of one: I was eating it while I waited for you."

"Are you gonna finish it?" you asked curiously.

"No, I was thinking I'd put it in the fridge for tomorrow."

You paused a bit before asking, "Can I have it?"

"Yeah, sure, you can get it in the morning—" he began.

"No, now!" you clarified.

There was a pause before he responded.  "Right now?  In the shower?"

"Yeah, just bring it in here!"

"I-I'll let you finish showering first—" he stammered.

"No, Bucky," you whined, "just come in here!  I'm hungry!"

Another pause before he finally opened the door, his blurry figure visible through the steam-covered frosted glass. 

"What's on it?" you asked as you washed the last of your shampoo out of your hair.

"It's pastrami on rye with jalapeños, fresh mozzarella, pesto and some sort of spicy aioli or something."

"Ooh, come to mama," you purred as you reached over the top of the door with opening-and-closing grabby hands, squeeing with glee when he placed the wax paper package in your grasp.

"Okay, enjoy your drunken shower sandwich," he congratulated grimly, about to turn and leave.

"No, wait, where'd you get this?" you asked as you leaned out of the stream of hot water to unwrap your bounty.

"Uh, you know the deli on 8th and Columbus?"

"You went all the way out there?"

"No, I had it delivered."

You snorted with laughter.  "Couldn't leave me alone for even a minute, huh?"

"Well, I fully intended on leaving you alone for this shower."

But you didn't really notice that comment because you'd just taken a bite and couldn't stop yourself from moaning loudly around it.  "Oh my god, Bucky, this is so good!"

He cleared his throat.  "Uh, glad you like it."

"You have good taste in sandwiches!"

"I think the word for 'taste in sandwiches' is just 'taste,’” he pointed out, his smirk audible in his voice.

"Can we go to this place tomorrow and you can order for me?"

"We can do whatever you want tomorrow," he relented.

"If you drive, I'll pay,” you offered.

"I always drive.  And you always pay,” he pointed out.

You frowned, not visible to him through the steamy glass.  "I do?"

"You pay my salary, so, yeah…"

You laughed, a little too hard. "You're so smart!"

"Sure,” he replied quickly.

“Okay, I’m almost done in here,” you informed him.

“With the sandwich or the shower?” 

You laughed with a little snort, which would’ve embarrassed sober you.  “Both!”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” he replied, starting to go back out the door.

“See you tomorrow, Bucky,” you waved even though he couldn’t see it.

“I don’t know that I will,” he admitted, “you’ll probably be hungover and lock yourself in your room all day.”

“Hmm, possibly,” you agreed as you pondered that.  “Then I guess just ‘goodnight,’ and I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Goodnight,” he replied and stepped out of the bathroom— you could hear him go downstairs and shut the door to his room, and you glanced down at the last bite of your/his sandwich with a smile.

You must have gotten in bed at some point, cause that was the last thing you could really remember before you woke up a bit before noon, bright orange sunlight shining directly on your face where it rested on the pillow.  You groaned and turned over, feeling like your brain was too big for your skull.  You sat up when you saw a menagerie of unfamiliar items on your nightstand.  A bottle of pedialyte, a bottle of Fiji water, a few aspirin, an orange and a banana waited for you in a pile, with a little piece of paper sitting in front which you read.

Hope you’re feeling alright, these might help in the meantime.  -B

You smiled, twisting open the Fiji and taking a sip.  Bucky always took such good care of you, even in ways he didn’t need to.  What would you do without him?

[shallyne]

The Stars Next Door

I decided to write a little companion piece to my first ever written fic Under the Stars!

Words: 1,048

TW: mention of Tamlin, implied emotional abuse, mention and implication of suicide

Feyre stands on the same roof that she met Rhys a month prior, when Rhys bursts through the door

Feyre stood on the edge of the roof, looking down. At the people, the streets, the cars and the buildings. From so far up it all seemed so small, as if she was watching little ants going on with their day, like she always did as a child. Feyre was always curious, curious about this whole, big world. It didn't seem so big anymore, it seemed pretty damn small. Though, as she looked up at the sky, there were thousands and millions of little stars up there. Stars she couldn't see, thanks to the big city she lived in, the pollution. But they were there, she knew that. So, above and beyond everything was so small. She supposed that it was her who was small. Just a small girl in a big world, utterly alone. 

Feyre huffed when another cold breeze of wind hit her and she put her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, trying to keep them relatively warm. She sighed and stepped back, turning to the metal door. She loved that roof but it was too cold to spend more than a few minutes up here in that cold. She walked past the little table when someone burst through the heavy door. It was the raven-black hair that she noticed first as Rhys said "Feyre!" he breathed heavily, bracing his hands on his knees as his almost violet gaze met her eyes. 

"Rhys!" Feyre said surprised and hurried to him. She softly laid her hand on his arm "Are you okay?" she asked and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. 

He pointed to the edge of the roof, behind. "I was at Thesan's to talk-" Feyre nodded, she rubbed his back while Rhys tried to catch his breath. "-I looked out of the window and I-" he took a heavy breath. "I saw you on the edge of the roof. Are you okay?" he asked. Rhys straightened and took Feyre's face in his hands. "How do you feel?" 

Her heart felt heavy as his intense, worried stare bored though her. "Rhys, I'm fine." she pressed out, hoping he couldn't hear her voice waver. "You know I'm often up here." 

"I know," he said, lowering his hands. To Feyre's surprise she missed his touch. "I just- I never saw you so close to the edge and I-" Rhys sighed. "I don't know." 

Feyre smiled at him, which probably looked more sad than reassuring. "I'm fine, I promise." He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Let's go inside, it's freezing up here." he said and offered his hand. She took it and together they went inside, walking down the stairs. 

When Feyre and Rhys first met on this roof, they had realized that they were neighbors. Close neighbors, Rhys lived exactly across from Feyre. She hadn't lived for long in this building, two months and she had never seen Rhys but the last month since they met, they often saw each other in the corridors. They had quick conversations and even exchanged numbers, texting each other sometimes. A week ago Rhys had invited her for a movie night where they had ordered Pizza. There Rhys had told her that he would be busy this week, with work. She hadn't even expected him to be home right now. 

"Rhys?" Feyre broke their silence when they had finished another set of stairs. "Yes?" he asked. 

"Are you-" she stopped, suddenly nervous about his response. She was about to withdraw her hand and tell him to forget it but he squeezed her hand. Feyre quickly looked up at him and Rhys smiled reassuringly. 

"Are you my friend?" she asked. It felt dumb when she spoke the question out loud. She felt dumb but Rhys didn't seem to think the same when he smiled brighter. "I hope I am. I'd love to be your friend." 

"I'd love to be your friend, too." Feyre said quietly. They fell into silence again, comfortable silence until Rhys was the one to break it. "Why? Where does that come from?" 

Feyre shrugged. "Since I chose to leave," Rhys seemed to stiffen ever so slightly. She didn't blame him, she had told him about Tamlin and why she left. Not in detail but the basics. "I kind of feel alone sometimes. I left all my friends behind when I started dating Tamlin, all contact cut, and I didn't have anyone but Tamlin. Now-" she shrugged again." I have tried to get in contact again but they aren't interested. I don't blame them." Rhys held the door open for Feyre when they reached their level. He closed the door then and grabbed her hand again as they walked towards their apartment. "But well, I'm pretty much alone now." 

They came to a stop in the corridor between their apartments. Rhys turned to her, tilting her chin up, so Feyre looked him in the eyes. Feyre held her breath as she did, his eyes looked like there lived stars in them. She had tried to paint them a few times but she never was able to catch how they seemed to sparkle. "You're not alone, not anymore." Rhys said. "You're always welcome to come over." he smiled "Or text me when I am not home. You're not alone, Feyre."

Feyre smiled and the next thing happened faster than she could think, she wrapped her arms around Rhys and hugged him. Rhys didn't seem to hesitate when he hugged her back. "Thank you." she muffled into his chest. 

He chuckled faintly, "That's what friends do." 

She stepped back again, out of Rhys's embrace, unfortunately, when his phone vibrated. He took a look at it and put it back in his pocket. "That was my cousin, we have a game night tonight." 

"Oh, I'm sorry." Feyre said. "I didn't want to keep you from your game night."

"You didn't." he reassured her. "She was just making sure that I bring wine." 

Feyre chuckled. "That's very important for game night." Rhys laughed. "It is."

Feyre looked back at her door and said "I guess I'll leave you to it, now. Thank you for…taking care." 

"Always." he replied, his smile turning softer. 

Feyre unlocked her door and smiled back at him. "Good night, Rhys." 

"Good night, Feyre darling."

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Learn to Fly

CW: Self-loathing, some internalized victim-blaming, references to parental death and grief, VERY vague reference to past noncon once or twice

Note: I made a decision to switch a little of the timeline around, so Laken and Chris’s breakup at this point happens after the original conversations about the Speak Out Arc start happening but before the Olympics themselves. I’m folding this bit into the larger Speak Out Arc.

Follows Time Apart and It Doesn’t Work As Well As You’d Hoped

-

He curls up on the couch in the coffeeshop, sipping something warm he barely tastes. It might have coffee in it - he feels a little drowsy, and that usually happens when there’s just a little caffeine.

Maybe that’s just because he hasn’t slept since Jake was hurt, not really. And he’s slept even less since... since he and Laken broke up.

Outside, there's unseasonable heavy rain. The clouds are low and heavy, a deep gunmetal gray that blocks out the light and has the streetlights on at 9:30 in the morning. The raindrops seem less to fall than to slam into the ground with terrible violence. 

The baristas talk in low voices about how grateful they are for the rain, burying the wildfires outside the city in a deluge the heat can’t overcome. Chris likes the rain, too, if only because it reflects the inside of him, suggests that the world can tell he is a storm within himself and reflects it to him.

He takes another sip.

He hasn’t showered in three days. His hair is dulled with it, like a penny left too long in the dirt.  He’s dressed himself like he used to, back before when he was still learning he was a person and not a pet - in one of Jake’s hooded sweatshirts over his compression shirt, so oversized on him it’s nearly a tunic, and a pair of mesh basketball shorts. His knees still look knobby, he thinks.

He can see the ghosts of the bruises there that used to never quite heal before his Sir sent him to his knees and made new ones to lay over them. He can see a couple of scars, some from training when the baton would crack into the backs of his legs and send him dropping like a stone, some from gymnastics, some from just being a kid.

Chris’s eyes lower, to look at his own hands holding his coffee cup. He put star stickers on his nails last night, and a few of them have already peeled off. Those that remain glitter, just a little. 

Something about the sight of it - the memory of when he put star stickers on Laken’s cheekbones at a concert until they sparkled under the starlight, laughing, a blur of bright eyes and dark hair - makes his throat nearly close, sends a new rush of tears to burn hot behind his eyes.

He has to close them to hold them back.

“You’ve had a hard time of late, have you, then?”

The voice is a rumble, cracked with decades of cigarettes and too much liquor, but Chris remembers it, anyway. At least, he remembers it now.

He turns to look up at the old man, in his shirt and slacks, a bit bent with age. There’s a merry twinkle in his slightly rheumy eyes, though, that shows that a young man is still there, under an old man’s experiences. There’s a slight smile on his face, warm and welcoming. 

Chris swallows, struggling to find the words. They flit away from him, he has to chase them down, but eventually he manages to clear his throat and says, “I, I, um. I know you. You, you, you knew my dad.”

“I did, at that. Worked with him for years.” The old man settles onto the other end of the couch, giving Chris plenty of space, a nice wide berth for safety. “What’s got you looking like a television commercial for depression, hm, Tristan?”

No one calls him that. 

Chris feels his heart twist, a little. 

By the time they saw the meteor, Tris, it was already too late for anything but a blink or two. When it touched down into land, it was so big the end of it was still in space. Can you imagine anything so big? Can you?

No, Dad.

 The earthquakes alone would have been immense thousands of miles away. Imagine, you’re eating leaves, living your life, and you see a shadow - and then in an instant, the world is shaking and you’re breathing glass. How does life go on after that?

I, I, I don’t know, um, um... how how does it?

It just does. That’s what’s amazing, Tris. It just goes on.

“Nothing. I, I, I broke up with my, my partner is all.”

“Hm, that nice young person who comes with you to the shops?” The old man nods, slowly. He’s got his own cup of coffee, plain black, steaming gently into the air-conditioning. Outside, the rain creates a curtain that walls them off from everything else. Chris can’t even see all the way across the street. He can barely see a woman with an umbrella racing from her car into the nail salon place off to the side. 

“Yeah, them. I’m, um. It wasn’t anything they they they did.”

It’s something I did.

It’s something I am.

It’s something I’ll never stop being.

“Well, breakups do happen now and again. Usually the one who does the leaving isn’t the one who does the moping about and staring at rain, though.”

“I didn’t want to.” Chris sits back, keeping his coffee cup in one hand. The other drops to his stomach, to tap, soothing his nerves at being so close to a man he knows and doesn’t-know. His memories are there, fuzzy and hazy from being overwritten by fear and pain, but they’re there. He knows this man, Mr. Malley, who would watch him sometimes when his parents went out, or when his father needed to stop by work.

The memories are there, but they still hurt. 

His head starts to throb, a pulsing pain behind his temples. 

“I didn’t-... I, I love them, I d-didn’t want to.”

“Well, now, that’s a conundrum, isn’t it? Are you moving, then, Tristan?”

It hurts to hear his name, but it hurts in a way that feels good. He was that person, too, before he was Chris. He hums, low under his breath. “No. I, I, I just… you know, um, I’m just. I’m… hard. Difficult. To, to, to, to be with, to, um, to-... there’s a bunch wrong with-... with me.”

“You sound like your dad.” Mr. Malley laughs, a deep chuckle that rumbles more in his chest than out of his throat. “You know that? You sound just like him.”

Chris ignores the pain in his head and he turns, now, to look fully at Mr. Malley, blinking rapidly. “My, my, my dad?”

“Yep. Paul was a good man, and a good dad, but before he was that he was a scared boy with a baby on the way and a plan that might not work.” Mr. Malley sighs. “A scared boy who’d always had it a little rough, trying to make the world work for him when it did nothing but work against him. You were always his spitting image. He’d probably be tickled to see you still are.”

There is a sense, in Chris’s mind, of a blurry man with short red hair, sitting near him but not quite touching him, speaking with animation about how there are dinosaurs that lived closer to human beings than they did to other dinosaurs.

He remembers a man whose eyes sparkled with animated focus when he talked about the world millions of years ago, who loved him by sharing the information he held within his own mind.

He and his dad had understood each other, in ways that no one else did but his mother, and Chris was beginning to see that it had been her determination to know him that had fueled his mother’s actions, her endless support. The same way Jake and Nat were determined, and stubborn, and kept trying even when they got it wrong. 

Everyone gets it wrong sometimes, but that doesn’t… that doesn’t mean they aren’t trying. 

Maybe he got it wrong.

“He never broke up with your mom, but oh, he thought about it. You know, when he came to work with us, he had a plan. But plans… they have a way of going off the road and into a ditch. He worried he couldn’t make it work, he worried that it would be too hard for Ronnie to be with him and have a child, too.”

Ronnie.

Chris’s throat closes up, and he closes his eyes. 

All right, Tris, I got you these so the noise won’t bother you so much. We’re going to have a good day at the parade, okay?

“Her family never liked him, for one. That’s a rough spot to be in, I think.” Mr. Malley is quiet for a moment, sipping his coffee and watching the rain fall. “Ronnie didn’t see it that way, of course. That woman was a freight train and God help anyone who got in the way. My late wife, God rest her soul, helped Ronnie with some things when her own family wouldn’t. She’d come over big as a house, eyes sparkling. You were a kicker, she used to say, kept her up all hours of the night. Just a girl, still, your mom, but she had a steel spine and she wasn’t going to live any life but the one she wanted. But your dad… he worried, that it would be too hard on her.”

“Having, um, having me would?”

“No. Having him. Paul was a smart man, you know. He knew his job would be trouble. He gave her chance after chance to go, if she wanted. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? She didn’t.”

Chris looks at his phone, lying on the little table in front of the couch. There’s some text messages he hasn’t looked at. Couple of voicemails he hasn’t listened to. 

“Maybe he, he, he didn’t want to keep hurting her,” Chris whispers. 

“Hurt’s a part of living, lad, take it from someone who’s given out his fair share of it and more.” Mr. Malley hums. Outside, a car pulls up, almost bumping the curb. “Perhaps you’re meant to separate from your young partner, Tristan, perhaps not. It’s like I told your dad, way back in the Stone Age. You choose if you love someone, to be sure, but they choose if they love you back. You can’t decide that for them.”

“But, but I’m-... but, but I’ve been… what I am, it’s-”

“I know what you’ve been made to do,” Mr. Malley says gently. “You don’t have to explain, lad. We knew.”

Chris’s lips tremble. He doesn’t want his coffee any longer. He sets it down next to his phone, on the little table. The baristas talk quietly about a date that one went on the night before, there’s a low sound of machinery. It all filters into Chris’s mind, a cacophony of sound he picks apart or doesn’t. Right now it’s hard for him to think around all the sound, but he tries. “Then, then, then why… if you knew, um, why… didn’t you-”

He can’t finish the question. 

Why didn’t you save me from it?

“We couldn’t. It’s shite, is what it is, but we couldn’t. And by the time we could, you were with that nice young man who you live with now. I’m sorry for the time you lost, Tristan, and sorrier still I can’t give it back to you somehow. You’re your dad’s child through and through, but you’ve got your mother in you, too. You know what Ronnie did when there was something she couldn’t get through?”

Chris turns to look at this man, who knew his mother and father in ways he never could have. He swallows. “What?”

“She went over it. Or around it. Or blew it to smithereens and went through the wreckage. Whatever it took. They tried to kick you out of school when you were a wean, she fought them ‘til they realized they’d never win against her. They tried to tell her you wouldn’t read, she told them to go, well, to go sit on a thing or two and not to tell her what her boy could or couldn’t do.”

Chris thinks of Nat sitting next to him on the floor, patiently encouraging him to keep trying to turn the letters into words, despite his headaches, his tears, his certainty he’d never get reading back.

You will, Chris. I know you will. Just keep fighting for it. They won’t take anything from you forever, I won’t let them and you won’t let them either.

Don’t let them keep you from yourself.

“They told her she’d never have a happy life, having a wee one so young, but she built that happy life anyway with her own two hands and dared anyone to try and knock it down.”

“Someone… some, someone did, though.” The gunshots, his mother’s eyes going dull and blank, her whispered I love you so much, Tris…

“Sure. Yes.” Mr. Malley’s expression goes serious, and sad. “But it took breaking into her house at midnight and bullets to stop her. You’ve got plenty of your mom in you, lad. Plenty of your dad, too, he was always a stubborn git himself. Do you love this person you’ve broken up with? Hm?”

“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation, even though his voice shakes and his heart races. “I, I, I do. That’s, that’s why I don’t want to-to keep hurting them by, by, by by being messed up from what, um, from what happened to me, I don’t… I don’t want to keep h-hurting them-”

“Let them decide how they feel about that,” Mr. Malley says, voice gentle and low. “Plenty of people are hurt and find their way forward together after.”

Jake and Kauri, laughing in the kitchen as Jake spins Kauri around in a circle, dips him backwards, presses a kiss to his nose that has him giggling. 

Antoni at the stove, sighing but with a smile on his face, watching them. Being pulled into the hug not quite against his will, all three of them laughing then. Kauri bright and sparkling, Jake a deeper harmony, Antoni soft and genuine. 

“Maybe it won’t last, maybe it will - but don’t let a hard past keep you from the people who love you. I’ve seen many ruined by believing you may only be loved if you’ve no pain inside you. We’ve all got pain, lad. Carrying it together’s a sight easier than trying to go it alone.”

From the car parked right outside, an elderly man unfolds himself, opening an umbrella to shield from the driving rain. Mr. Malley looks up and smiles. “Ah, right on time, must be ten sharp. That’ll be Cilly. D’you remember Cilly, lad?”

Chris looks as the man shuffles his way inside, pushing open the door. The little bell over the top jingles and the baristas cut off their conversation, standing up straight to call out a familiar greeting to a regular customer. 

He squints.

“Not… not very well,” He confesses, a little ashamed.

“Ah, well, that’s not a problem. He and I’ve known each other a long time. I was an angry man for a while after my wife died, you know. Seemed a crime that I should outlive her, when Christa deserved to live to a hundred and six if she so wished. Cilly helped me carry that anger when I needed to be angry, and he helped me put it down later on.” 

He gives a wave to the man - to Cilly - who looks at Chris and then back to Mr. Malley with clear surprise, then heads towards the counter to make his own order. 

“Be angry, Tristan,” Mr. Malley says, a little heavily, leaning over to him on the leg as he pushes himself, with a grunt of effort to his feet. “You may need your anger, in the days ahead. But if you’ve a love to help you carry it, who wants to help you carry it and who will be angry right there with you, and you love them back… well… don’t let the wickedness of others keep you from the happiness you could have. You’ll be a poorer person for it.”

Mr. Malley walks away without another word, leaving Chris by himself again on the couch, tapping at his stomach, thinking. He keeps looking at his phone, thinking about all the texts he hasn’t read, the way he’s refused to call them back when Laken kept trying to reach him.

He leans over to reach out.

He stops, hand hovering just above the plastic with its colorful case, the sensory sticker on the back of it that Laken had bought him. 

What happened after all the dinosaurs died, Tristan?

I, I, I don’t know, Dad.

Trick question, buddy. They didn’t. Paul’s eyes, bright and vibrant, gesturing to a bird in a tree nearby. Nothing stays the same and lives forever except alligators and sharks.

Right because, because they’re perfect.

Exactly. Dinosaurs died, sure, but they didn’t die, too. They just changed to suit the world after the one they knew how to live in was gone. Imagine, Tris. 

Imagine what?

Imagine the world destroyed and in darkness, buried in ash. Everything you know is gone, ruined, wrecked beyond repair. And imagine… imagine that you learn to eat seeds and little mice instead of big animals and leaves. Imagine you become smaller and smaller. Imagine that your arms turn to wings, that your bones hollow out to carry you higher above the piles of ash that turn to grass and to life again.

What? I, I, I don’t, um, I don’t understand-... Dad, um, I don’t, I don’t... know what you mean.

Right, sorry. Just... imagine you’re a dinosaur.

He’d laughed. Okay.

Now imagine your dinosaur family is gone, and you have to become something else. What do you become? Being a dinosaur means dying, right?

Um. Right.

So imagine that you look at death and say, no thanks. No, you’re not going to be over. This isn’t it for you. Even a meteor the size of the entire sky can’t end you. Instead of dying out, no, you look at history, at geological time, and you say…

Paul had trailed off.

Say what? What, what do I say?

Don’t tell your mom but-... you look at the end of the world and you say... fuck this, I’m going to learn to fly.

Chris picks up his phone, finds Laken’s name and photo in his contacts. It’s a photo of the two of them together, Chris and Laken smiling and laughing as he smears whipped cream on their nose and they smear a cross of fluffy white into his forehead. 

He dials.

They pick up on the third ring.

“Chris? Oh my God, Chris, are you okay? Are you-... are you okay, baby?” Their voice shakes, and he closes his eyes. 

This time, he lets the tears slip out and run down his face. “H-Hey, Laken, um, I, I, I-... I’m… I wondered if you, um, if you could, uh… are you busy?”

“Am I-... Chris, where are you?”

“The, um, the coffeeshop-”

“I’m on my way. Don’t you dare fucking move.”

At their usual table, at their usual time, Cilly and Sean Malley start to talk amicably about the week ahead. But he keeps an eye on Paul’s boy, where he speaks a few sentences and then hangs up the phone, looking out the window at the rain.

It’s twenty minutes before a new car pulls up outside, and umbrella-less, the partner Sean has seen with Tristan before comes racing inside, a blur of black clothes and black hair and brown skin. Paul’s boy stands, and his partner throws themself at him so hard the two of them fall backwards onto the couch.

They start laughing, and shortly after to cry. 

Their hands come up to either side of Tristan’s face, and they lean forward to kiss the scar on his forehead. He can’t hear what they say to each other, but he doesn’t need to. 

Ronnie, he thinks, would like this spitfire person that Paul’s boy is so in love with. 

That’s one wrong put right, at least for the moment.

One more to go.

Sean smiles and sips his cooling coffee.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

Just Go On from Kimmy Schmidt

[babylooneytoonz]

Curly Hair and Blue Eyes, Just like yours

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem! Reader

Summary: You decide to tell Clark Kent about the daughter he never knew he had with you, and he only wishes he had found out about her in a better situation.

Warnings: Kidnapping , Violence, Angst

[My Masterlist]

"Baby, we gotta go, come on out now," You called from the kitchen, having stuffed Piper's lunchbox into her tiny little bag that you had now propped on your shoulder. Little feet raced down the staircase of your home and you smiled, when you saw the little blue eyed girl, her hair neatly settled into two pigtails on either sides of her head, poked her head in. You knelt down in front of her, helping her put her bag on.

"Mommy? I wanna have Uncle Jerry's apple pie— " You smiled as you stood back up, quickly kissing the top of her head, as you took her hand in yours, your fingers clasping against the five year old's tiny ones.

"Well, if you are a good girl at school today, mommy might think of baking you one instead for dessert," you smiled down at her as the two of you walked out of your tiny two bedroom apartment in a tiny, cramped street in Metropolis where you had lived for years. You buckled her into the passenger seat, laughing to yourself listening to her as she had decided that now was the time to speak to her doll.

Being a single mother, there was so much on your plate always. Your days started with leaving Piper at Kindergarten, heading straight to the grocery store where you worked after leaving her. Four hours later you drove back to her school, picked her up and brought her back to the store with you, where you fed her and let her play around at the back, until 4 pm when finally, you ended your shift and the two of you drove your way back home.

You straightened the crease on your shirt, leaning against the fence along with the other young mothers who were waiting to collect their wards from kindergarten, just like you were until the bell rang somewhere inside, and a flurry of kids arrived, like bees floundering in the air.

You knelt down, throwing your arms out at the sight of your daughter who pushed herself into you, and you kissed her on her nose, and she giggled.

"Mommy, guess who vi- vitit— " She stammered, trying to say the word but she couldn't.

"Visited?" You asked, smiling at her, and she nodded.

"Visi- ted today."

You pulled yourself up, taking her hand in yours as you began walking with her towards the car parking, glancing down at her every ten seconds or so.

"Superman!!" She excitedly screamed, clapping as you opened the car door for her. The smile that was earlier on your lips dropped at the mention of him, and instead, a hollow look now ghosted your eyes as you regarded her briefly, giving her a fake smile and nodded, buckling her into the passenger seat, "Hm, I see. Why was he there?"

The car ride back to the store was a quiet one from your end, where only Piper spoke telling you of how the Superman had visited the kindergarten today, spent time with the children, telling them how they all were strong enough to grow up and be Supermen and Superwomen themselves. There were times when you snorted, not win disbelief, quickly masking it with a fake laugh, listening to your daughter talk about him.

You hated him, atleast you thought you did. You realized, the more you listened to her describe, Clark Kent was just the same— just the way you remembered him to be six years ago, when you had last met him.

How were you supposed to tell the innocent little child what Superman used to be to you?

Six years back, he had left you, leaving you broken hearted, and had walked out of your life, without giving you a reason as to where had you gone wrong in your relationship with him. No matter how much you tried, pleading and begging him to reconsider, it appeared as though he had already made up his mind.

"[Y/N], this will hurt for a while, and then you will be okay, trust me."

How the hell were you supposed to trust him when he was the one responsible for the excruciatingly painful heartbreak that you had witnessed?

You watched him, followed the news, watching every single success that Superman attained, his face plastered to your television screen, his charming boyish smile tugging at your heartstrings but you still felt happy, knowing how he was saving the world. Although, ironically, he had done nothing to save your crumbling relationship.

You would have still forgiven him, had you not found out, just a month after he had left you, that you were pregnant.

At first, you thought that Clark deserved to know— after all, he had every right to be in his child's life, and you were no one to take that boon away from him, or your child. Sucking it up, you had forced yourself to go to the Daily Planet building, to talk to Clark, to tell him what you had found out.

You didn't. You couldn't. Because he looked happy with Lois Lane. So you left.

Your home smelt like a freshly baked apple pie, as you stood against the kitchen counter, the baked goodie laying in front of you just like you had promised your little girl. Outside, in the living room, you could hear the television on, as Piper watched her favourite cartoon, her chuckling audible to you, which made you smile. Your golden retriever, Berry, nudged her head against your leg, causing you to bend slightly so you could pet the top of her head before she scampered off to be with her best friend once more.

"Piper, baby. Berry wants to go out."

The little girl dashed into the kitchen upon hearing your words, her excited eyes glimmering with delight as she began looking up at you.

"Mommy, can I take her out?"

You thought for a minute, planning to refuse at first but then you gave up, because the two of you, your baby girl and your furry baby both looking at you with big, googly eyes that you couldn't resist.

"Fine but stay close to the front gate, and inside. There's a lot of traffic outside, love. Mommy's gonna be watching you from the window here, alright?" You gave her a smile, watching as the two of them walked off, the dog first, followed by the girl— smiling at how considerate the big dog was around her tiny form.

While you were readying the plates, setting the dinner table, you momentarily made sure to glance out of the window, from where you could see them both, running around, being the big goofballs the two of them were. What you failed to see, was a dark hooded man, standing by your fence, watching the girl carefully, observing.

A few minutes passed by, and you decided that it was time to go out and fetch the two back inside, when you heard Berry mediating between loud barks, and pained whines. Your eyes widened, as you ran out of the house, on bare foot, the pads of your feet grazing against the grass when you saw two men, throwing your daughter into the back of a car, Berry having tied ruthlessly by her neck to the tree, the hold so hard that she was almost suffocating. By the time you ran to the gate the car was already turning down the street, until it finally disappeared out of view and you fell to your knees, screaming, crying, your heart pounding inside your chest. Someone had taken your daughter.

Finally, after two minutes of screaming your heart out, you leapt to your feet freeing Berry from the leash that had her pinned to the tree, tears still streaming down your face as you ran inside, grabbing your phone and your car keys.

There was only one who could bring her back, and there was nothing stopping you from asking from his help, because only he could do it— find her from whichever corner of Metropolis they were hiding her and bring her back.

At some time between you driving recklessly through the streets of Metropolis to the time you finally reached the Daily Planet building once again, the sky started pouring, heavily. You parked your car in the parking lot opposite to the building and without caring, you stepped out into the rain, racing your way into the building.

"Clark Kent, please, it's urgent," you literally slammed your moist fists against the desk of the office receptionist, her eyes widening when she saw the condition you were in— your hair and your outfit drenched in the rain, sticking to you, your body trembling with cold.

"Uh, sure, but who do I say is asking for him?"

"[Y/N], and please, tell him it's urgent."

You began rubbing the side of your arms fervently, trying to keep yourself warm, as the receptionist pulled the receiver to her ears, and looked up at you briefly, "Mr. Kent, a Miss [Y/N] is here. She, uh, says it's urgent, and it does look like she is in a state of.. emergency."

The receptionist disconnected the phone, slowly placing the receiver back. She looked up at you, and informed you that Clark was on his way now to see you. You began biting the insides of your cheeks— a sudden nervousness killing you from the inside. How were you going to tell him? What if he refused to help you? Where was Piper? All kinds of depressive thoughts began to sneak into your head when his silhouette finally appeared, his eyes falling on you as he was walking towards you.

Clark Kent pushed his glasses nervously over the bridge of his nose, his heart racing. He wasn't sure, why after all those years you were here to see him, and that too, this urgently. He hoped you were okay. When he stepped out of his office, his eyes fell on you. His heart broke, yet again, on the sight of you— you were dripping from head to toe, your body shivering due to the cold. His pace increased, until he was literally running towards you, his eyes fixed on yours.

"Clark." You began, only to find yourself give in, to nerve wracking sobs as he pulled you into his embrace, letting his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him, as he soothingly rubbed your back, thousands of memories flooding back into both your minds.

"Listen to me, there's something you should know," you hicupped, still crying hysterically. Clark slowly walked you away from the crowd that had now gathered around you and him until the two of you were in an empty cabin. He lowered you in a leather chair and pulled one in front of you, letting his palms rest on your knees, "Whats wrong?"

"I didn't know who else to go to, I -- Clark," you swallowed the lump forming in your throat, you didn't know how to begin. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, or tried to, but the heaviness of your chest couldn't let you breathe, "Someone took my daughter, right from in front of my eyes. Two men, dressed in black, they came and they took her, stuffed her into their car, Clark, I don't know where to find her, what to do."

Clark's face fell— it was as though someone had cut off his oxygen supply— what else was he expecting? That you would wait for him all your life? He looked at you in a strangled way, his eyes narrowed at you, but he wasn't angry. He just looked hurt. The hands that were resting on your knees slowly pulled away and you winced at the loss of the contact, looking up at him through your teary eyes. He pressed his lips together and parted his lips, "Do you have any idea who could have —"

"No, I— Who could mean harm to an innocent little five year old, Clark? She can't even hurt a fly." You cried.

"Five.. five year old?" Clark croak, as if something was lodged inside his throat.

"Five years, and a few months to be exact.." you whispered, as your fingers gently pulled out your wallet, and inside was a picture of your beautiful little girl, her long black hair, just like Clark's curled atop her matted head. She was a true replica of him, having his luscious curls, big blue eyes and the kindest of the smiles. You slowly extended the wallet towards him, your hand trembling as your heart beat like a supersonic train. "That's— that's her, Piper ..Kent?"

Clark stepped abruptly from the chair, his fingers clasping your wallet. Weakly, he looked down at the photo, the realization sinking into him. The eyes that looked back at him from the photo were the same eyes, he didn't need proof to believe that she was his.

"Clark, I know you have questions but this isn't the time, please help me, they took her! I — I need Superman.. she needs Superman.." You pleaded him, with your eyes, looking at him.

The next minute, Clark had his hand on your shoulder, as he was walking you out of the cabin, his eyes not meeting yours.

"Get back home, incase they call for ransom or something. I will get her back."

What you didn't see when you were on your way out, was the way Clark broke down after you left. He lowered himself to his knees, watching you walk off until he had both his hands pulling at his own hair, his eyes glowing with the heat vision, his body suddenly on fire.

Two days passed, and with these two days, whatever sanity that was left within you, drained out, anxiety taking over completely. You went to the Daily Planet, looking for Clark, but he wasn't there— of course he was out looking for her. But it still didn't let you rest any easier.

By the time it was nightfall, you were pacing around in your living room, your kitchen a mess, dirty utensils from two days back still soiling the sink. Your hair were a mess as you had not bothered even running a hand through them, for you were completely shaken and distraught.

Just when you thought that your mind will probably burst with the amount of worry that was eating at you, the doorbell rang. You ran— it was like running a life marathon— as you unlocked the door, finding Superman standing at your doorstep, holding Piper in his arms, the little girl having her arm locked around Superman's neck, her face glimmering with excitement.

"Oh my fucking—" you cursed under your breath, sniffling in retaliation to the sight and n front of you as you threw out your arms towards her, "Piper, baby! You're okay! Jesus, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have been careful— "

"Mommy, do you know that Superman saved me from the bad men?" You gasped, almost wide eyed as Piper leapt into your arms, and you buried your face into your daughter's hair, nuzzling your nose against her face, holding her tight, as though if you didn't, she would slip away. What suprised you, and sort of, made you smile was her innocence — she was kidnapped and probably locked up somewhere and yet all she could think of or talk about was how Superman had saved her life. Your eyes flew to his, meeting his halfway, you could see how exhausted he looked, and a look passed between the two of you— a look of love that had been buried years back— the two of you didn't need words, and the two of you could feel how the other one felt — probably a mix of relief, anger and a lot of questions.

"Yes, he did—" You smiled, "Are you okay, Piper? Love, are you hurt?"

"She's— " Superman began speaking, and you looked at him once again, "She's fine. She isn't hurt, I made sure."

You bit your lip, your fingers toying with your daughter's curls. Finally, you stepped inside, leaving the door wide open, glancing at Superman with the corner of your eyes, "I know you want to to talk. Please, come in."

"Mommy? Is Superman staying with us tonight?"

"Piper, darling, would you go and check on Berry? She's not feeling well ever since you left—" You placed her on the floor, carefully eyeing her for any injuries, but much to your relief, there were none.

"Alright, mommy."

"You should have told me, [Y/N]. She's mine too!"

You gasped, almost inaudible, trying to suck in a mouthful of air as you fixed yourself by the window, looking out, almost cautiously, your mind still in a state of alert. When Clark saw this, he walked up to where you were, staring out of the window, and you saw his reflection behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he turned you around, "they won't come back, [Y/N]. I made sure of it."

"Who were they? What did they want?" You frowned, his hands still on your shoulders but you didn't seem to mind.

"They weren't anyone of importance, they did it for ransom, having randomly decided to kidnap her and ask you for money. How were they supposed to know they kidnapped my daughter? Like hell, I didn't know I had a daughter," he almost froze, letting his hands drop, his eyes now looking at you for answers.

You took a deep breath, running your hands through your hair, almost pulling at them in an attempt to straighten them a little, but Clark grabbed your arm, his grip on your wrist as he lowered it, showing you how his patience was wearing thin.

"You left me, Clark. Just because I was pregnant, it didn't mean I was selfish to use her as a means to get you back, or to burden you with her responsibility." You hissed, trying to pull on your wrists, but of course, how were you to match the Kryptonian's strength?

"I would have never left if I knew—"

"And this, Clark, is exactly why I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want you to decide to stay with me because.. of a baby," you had begun pacing in the living room now and Clark just stood by the window, his arms crossed against his chest, "You would have hated me one day." Suddenly, you stopped speaking and your eyes widened, your head sharply turning towards him and a thin frown appearing on his sublime features. The next minute, you were glaring at him, poking him in the chest with your index finger, "Before accusing me of hiding this from you, how would you justify you leaving me without giving me the reason? You didn't care about me, you didn't care about the fact that I cried myself to sleep for weeks, inwardly tortured for months. How very hypocritical of you, Mr. Kent."

He grabbed your hand, however his hold remained gentle on you. Very slowly, he twisted your arm behind you, stepping closer, in a way pinning you to the wall behind, looking down at you. He then scoffed— a dry, sarcastic scoff.

"I left you because I had no choice. Luthor took Lois—"

"Oh, great, Lois, and that's why you left me—"

"He took Lois because he thought Lois is the woman I'm with. You realize what this means? If he knew or find out it was you, he would have thrown you off that building. I couldn't have lived with that. I did it for you!"

Tears streamed down your face, his words finally sinking in. You parted your lips and all that came out was a gush of air. Clark placed his hand on your cheek, reluctantly, half expecting for you to push it away, but you didn't. His fingers felt hot against your skin, like embers as he cupped your face, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

"I came..one month after you left me .. to your office ..when I found out.. wanted to tell you," He nodded, blinking as he waited for you to continue. "I saw you with Lois. You looked happy, the two of you."

"Lois is just a friend, I never—" he frowned, his hand dropping from your cheek as he ran his fingers through his own hair, his exasperation evident, "It was always you."

"I can't believe this, Clark. I fucking cried myself to sleep thinking you hated me," you sniffled, falling back against your couch like a lifeless corpse, bringing both your palms to your face as you buried yourself to those, hiding yourself from his intense eyes, "That girl—" You looked up, your cheeks now stained with your tears, "she is more you than she is me. In every single way. I needed you Clark Kent."

"I'm sorry, I should never have —"

"Six years, Clark. You missed her birth, you missed watching her grow up, she was without you, and we were okay, you know? And now this happens and my life is a mess once again—"

He looked at you, dejected, his glances mediating between the floor to you and then back down to his hands. Finally, he cleared his throat, and you looked up at him, looking at the beaten Superman in front of you. He was everything but the strong superhero you knew in that split second. He was a broken man— just a man— in a spandex costume.

"If I could go back and change what I did, I'd do it in a blink of my eye."

You smiled, and replied, "It's easy to say. It wasn't your fault, though. It was perhaps, we were never meant to be."

His face fell, and he didn't try to hide it from you. You bit your lip, tasting the metal on your tastebuds as he slowly took a step away, his eyes moving from you to the stairs, perhaps hoping that he could see Piper before he left.

"If something ever happens, if you need me, I'll be there, [Y/N]. I couldn't be there when you needed me, but I'll be there from now until you don't need me anymore."

Would it ever happen when you won't need him any more? You never truly moved on, no matter how hard you tried. The void remained, in your heart, in your life and in your cold bed. Six years , and you couldn't make yourself fall in love with anyone, because no one was Clark Kent, they could never be him.

"Leaving us again, are you?" You wiped your tears with the back of your palm, and he looked at you, suprised as though he had heard you wrong.

You smiled and you looked down at your hands, they were trembling as you rubbed them fervently against the fabric of your thigh, and stood up, hesitantly at first, before a little confidence built up inside you when you saw the softness in his eyes as you walked towards him. This time you pinned him to the wall, and the taller man let you, without even trying to attempt to escape or show you just strong he was. He let himself be entrapped as you grabbed his chin, rather unceremoniously, yanking his head so he was looking down.

"Don't you want me to—" he stopped talking, finally realizing what you were trying to say to him.

"Six years, I watched you on TV, and that's just it. That was the nearest I had to feeling anything. Is this what true love is? You know someone isn't coming back yet you can't stop loving em?"

He smiled, but didn't reply. He just kept gazing into your eyes.

"Go on, go. The world needs you, Superman."

You smacked him on his chest, watching his eyes to shift to confusion once again. Awkwardly, he tilted his head to his side and shook his head, only his chin moving.

"And you? You don't?" He asked.

"No." You smiled smugly, watching his face fall, so you hurriedly added, "I need Clark Kent, not Superman. He is very broody, and I am scared of him. I would rather have my Clark back."

He gave you a toothy smile, and in that minute, he wasn't Superman anymore. He was your Clark Kent, only in a spandex costume. He wrapped you in your arms , pulling you to him, bringing down his lips to the side of your jaw, as he kissed your chin at first, and then moved on to your lips. Your lips met his, after a long time, and your insides exploded, your hands flying to the back of his head.

"Mommy!"

Clark cleared his throat, and you immediately pulled away wiping your lips and the two of you looked at each other, both your cheeks a slight crimson. You two felt like a child again, having been caught stealing cookies and Clark smiled, sitting down until he was squatting on his heels. He threw out his hand towards Piper and she ran up to him, settling herself on his thigh.

Clark looked up at you, and so did she, and you couldn't help but give them a warm smile back, because the sight was melting your heart. It was like a mini me, Clark and his little female version, looking right at you with that big blue eyes.

"What?" You asked Clark.

"Shall we tell her? Shall I tell her?"

"No, Superman." You changed your voice, grabbing him by his Cape as you pulled him up, "I don't want targets on her back. Why don't you just go on out, change into some human clothes and then we can tell her who her father is."

"But sweetheart, it's a little too late for that don't you think?" He pointed towards Piper, and your head shot towards her, you jaw almost dropping when you saw her eyes turn orange due to the heat vision, just for a bit before they turned blue again, and Superman slid his arm through your waist.

"It's okay, let them find out, Superman has a family. They still can't touch a hair on your head, not until I'm around. And I'm not..going anywhere."

"No, sweety," you gave him an apologetic smile, "that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried she's gonna go to school and boast around how her dad's Superman."

"Well, they are going to find out, one day or the other."

"You're right, Clark." You nodded, as the two of you watched her scamper off, chasing Berry, you leaning on to him.

A/N- Fuck, I realised I really got carried away with this one. I think this is the longest one shot I've ever written? I thought I'd break it into parts but oh well. I hope you guys liked it.

[milenadaniels]

Actually, Truly, 14k - Buck/Eddie, Helena POV, post-s4 (AO3)

Isabel calls to tell them Eddie's been shot on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. When they land, they learn Eddie's already home recovering and has been for two weeks.

----

Or, Helena (and Ramon) tries to find a way back into Eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding Buck around every corner she turns.

Isabel calls on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. Their son’s been shot, again, in the line of duty. But this time, instead of being thousands of miles away and out of reach, he’s just a short plane ride away.

Isabel insists they come to her house before going to the hospital but she doesn’t blame COVID protocols for keeping them away from the hospital, so they spend the car ride over imagining the worst.

A complication with surgery.

Permanent damage.

A coma.

The news they receive is that Eddie’s fine, and he’s been home and recuperating for two weeks already.

Helena retreats to the living room while Ramon and his mother fight in the kitchen. They’re yelling in Spanish and for once she wishes she’d never learned.

“Escúchame, Ramon,” Isabel tries to interrupt. Listen to me.

The yelling continues because Ramon doesn’t listen. It’s not his strong suit. Nor is it Helena’s.

Helena paces the length of the living room and holds her phone in her hands, thumb over Eddie’s name in FaceTime, not pressing down.

Eddie’s been home for two weeks.

Isabel hadn’t told them for two weeks.

But Eddie hadn’t either.

They hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years, and he hadn’t called them since their last fight over a month ago.

Still, Eddie was shot in the streets by a sniper and he didn’t call them.

Mom, listen...

The last time they spoke, it was a phone call, not a video chat, maybe because at that point just the sight of each others’ faces was enough to set them all off. In that phone call, Eddie spoke of a friend whose family was somehow worse off than their own, but who, miraculously, were finally making the effort to fix the broken ties between them in therapy.

“Mom, listen… I spent a long time being angry with Shannon instead of trying to reach out to her and now Christopher is never going to have her in his life again. I don’t want that with you,” Eddie said, his voice brusque but calm, measured. “I don’t want to grin and bear it when you call or when we visit. I want to be glad to pick up the phone, I want to be excited to see you all at Christmas, I want you to be part of our lives. But I can’t do that without you meeting me halfway.” He was resolute, but he was pleading too. “I don’t want to spend the next ten years of our lives like this.”

But the idea of therapy was anathema to the Diaz family and it took only Ramon’s dismissive scoff to reinforce her own distaste of the idea. They called Eddie back to say they had no intention of paying a stranger to tell them everything was their fault and he was blameless.

They didn’t get another call after that.

“— my son!” Ramon yells at Isabel in the kitchen.

“Because, mijo, when you come here, you don’t see your son! You don’t see him living here, growing, Christopher thriving! You don’t see how when you come up here you bring sadness and misery when you should bring joy and comfort.” The words are too close to what Eddie said for them not to have spoken about it together. “By the time I knew he was hurt, he was already out of surgery and doing well. If he wasn’t, I would have called immediately.”

“Oh bueno, so you’ll tell me my son is dying but not that he’s okay?”

“Ramon! Escúchame.” It’s not often that Helena gets to bear witness to the steel in Isabel’s voice, the one she passed down to both her kids. It’s in fine form today. “He was doing well, and had all the help he needed. As soon as things stabilized, I called you. Keep acting like a fool and see if I call you at all next time.”

“If you call? Are you —”

Mom, listen…

“Ramon!” Helena snaps, surprising them all.

“Ramon,” she repeats, more calmly this time. “Listen to her.”

The shock on Isabel’s face almost makes her smile, but her heart is too heavy to commit to it.

“Helena, two weeks she —”

“Our son was shot, and he didn’t tell us.” Helena says, her voice trembling. “Our son was shot, he could have died, and the last thing we would have told him is we weren’t willing to fight for him and Christopher. Weren’t willing to — what? — put our egos aside? Our pride? For one fucking minute to listen to him. To listen to what he needed.”

Ramon’s eyes widen and he hangs his head with a sigh.

Helena faces Isabel, her phone tucked in her palm against her stomach.

“What can we do? We’re listening.”

——————-

Ramon walks it off and Helena helps Isabel in the kitchen in exchange for a promise they’ll go over to Eddie’s for supper. She’s been making care packages for Eddie and Christopher since the shooting, and she’s working on a pasta sauce while Helena starts on her famous banana brown sugar bread — Eddie’s favourite.

“How is he, really?” she asks once her dish is tucked into the oven.

“As well as can be expected,” Isabel replies, throwing spices into the pot with an ease Helena never grew into. “He was tired for the first few days, but now it’s like a broken arm. Uncomfortable but not so painful.”

“How long is it supposed to take to heal?”

Isabel casts a suspicious eye her way as if she can anticipate the date of Helena’s return flight adjusting already, but answers, “they say 6 to 8 weeks. It’s for the bone to heal, mostly, in his back. The rest should be sooner.”

Helena broke her wrist years ago, when the kids were nearly teenagers, and it was three months of hell trying to manage a household one handed while Ramon spent most of that time travelling across Texas.

Who’s helping him? Is Carla back in the picture? Is she working overtime? How can he afford that on sick leave? Is Pepa or one of the cousins going over? Is his girlfriend there? Who’s helping with Christopher? How is he managing?

The questions — all genuine and well-meaning, all a shade too accusatory — are on her tongue, pressed to the back of her teeth to keep from escaping. She’s entitled to answers, even if she doesn’t like them. She knows she has the right to at least know how her son is caring for himself and her grandson while he’s injured. If he’d told them when it happened Helena could have been here in a heartbeat to help, but no, Eddie’s just as stubborn as they are, just as prideful. He’d rather suffer alone than accept their help. Fine. But she’s still his mother, and Christopher’s grandmother. She raised them both. She has a right to—

Mom, listen…

Helena takes a deep breath in, anchors herself in the mixed scents of the rich sauce and the sweet bread cooking, and breathes out. Isabel sends her another look but says nothing.

————-

Helena cries when she sees Eddie, and cries a bit harder when she sees the apprehension in his eyes. Her baby boy looks a bit pale, but he’s standing on his own two feet and answering the door himself.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, wrapping him gently into her arms, mindful not to press into the sling or his back.

“Hi, mom,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to gentle the stiffness in his voice.

She releases him, but not before pressing three kisses into his temple, always three. One for each of her kids.

Ramon steps into the space she leaves when she continues into the house and from the corner of her eye, she sees him cup the back of Eddie’s head and take a good look at him. For Ramon, it’s the equivalent of collapsing to the floor in tears.

Helena quickly toes off her boots and makes room at the entrance for the others behind her, which also puts her first in line to catch a sight that nearly knocks her down.

“Who is this young man I see?” she cries, throwing her hands wide to gesture at her grandson. “Last I saw you, you were just a little tyke. Now look at you, you must have grown three feet!”

Christopher giggles and Helena smiles in return as she folds him into her arms, but it’s forced. She’s not lying — he’s grown so much more than she expected. She hasn’t seen him in person since Eddie’s graduation and while video chats are priceless, they didn’t capture this growth spurt.

She can’t believe she let this happen. That she went from spending most of everyday with this little boy and now she’s missed out on two years of his life. Can’t believe Eddie kept him fro—

Mom, listen...

Supper goes well enough. Eddie never truly shakes loose the tension in his shoulders; he trades many looks with Isabel, seemingly spooked by his parents’ behaviour. He talks a lot more than he usually does, probably out of nervousness. But overall, they let Christopher take the reigns; they’re all more comfortable with that. It’s been too long since they’ve last spoken and Christopher is full of stories about his school and his friends.

“Buck says we can go to the Griffin soon. It was closed because of COVID. But before, I went with my class and they made a comet right in front of us!”

Buck. It’s the third time his name has been dropped at the table since they sat down.

She first met him, briefly, at Eddie’s graduation, but didn’t really register him as someone in her son’s life until Eddie and his crew stopped off in El Paso for dinner on their way home from fighting Texas wildfires. Buck had been cropping up in Christopher’s and Eddie’s stories for months by then and she was curious to properly meet him in person. He had seemed...young, she remembers.

“The Griffith Observatory,” Eddie corrects fondly. With Christopher, at least, it’s impossible for him not to soften.

Eddie’s only eaten half the pasta on his plate but Isabel seems satisfied. Helena bites down on the impulse to encourage him to eat more. To remind him he needs his strength to heal quickly for his little boy. She does lift the basket of garlic bread in his direction, because she can’t help herself. He eyes the basket warily as though he expects her to do more, but when she doesn’t, he shakes his head with a small smile of thanks.

“Yeah,” Christopher agrees, “it was cool but we didn’t get to stay long enough to see everything. And if we go later, Buck says we can see real meteors in the sky.”

Fourth mention.

“Christopher is on an astronomy kick,” Eddie adds redundantly.

“Wait, I gotta show you —” Christopher is sliding out of his seat before anyone can stop him and racing down the hall to his bedroom.

“Oh, honey —” Helena grips the arms of her chair out of reflex to jump up and help him — he doesn’t have his crutches, he’s only using the wall for support and he’s wearing socks — but Eddie looks over when her chair creaks.

He can’t really expect her to just sit here while Christopher—

Mom, listen…

They can hear Christopher make it to his bedroom without injury, so Helena slowly settles back in her chair and Ramon clears his throat. “He seems...okay. More okay than I would have expected.”

Eddie keeps his eyes on his father for a beat too long, assessing the comment for any hidden messages.

“He’s a resilient kid. Buck stayed here with him while I was in the hospital, so his routine wouldn’t get messed up. I think that helped a lot.”

Fifth ment— wait.

“Buck stayed with him?” The words — the tone — are out of her mouth before Helena can stop them.

On the shortlist of people she expected to hear stayed with her grandson to watch him and care for him, alone, while his father was in the hospital — Isabel, Pepa, Carla, or even Ana — Buck’s isn’t a name she expected to hear. A coworker — an unrelated man with no children of his own, over Christopher’s family? Over Christopher’s own aide? Over a schoolteacher?

Eddie’s jaw squares up and he sits up in his chair. Like light gray rain clouds suddenly turning dark, weighty with an incoming storm, a heavy tension builds in the air between them.

“Look!” Christopher exclaims as he rounds the corner, nearly throwing a thin, blue hardcover book on the table. Eddie catches it before it can slam into Christopher’s leftover pasta and sets it down on the table for him. “It shows all the things we can see in the sky over the whole year!”

Christopher climbs back into his chair and opens the book up to a random page, describing everything he seems to have nearly memorized already. By the time he reaches the upcoming meteor shower, the tension at the table has dissipated enough for Helena to excuse herself to the bathroom and not have it come off like a passive aggressive storm-off.

She washes her hands with soap pumped out of a fish-shaped dispenser that wasn’t here the last time she visited and trains her eyes on the basket of gauze, scissors and tape tucked away on the shelf above the toilet. That wasn’t there last time either.

Her baby boy was shot by a sniper. In LA.

A bullet tore through the body she created and almost took her son from her forever.

Mom, listen...

But only after she’d almost pushed him so far away he might never come back.

The tears well up again and she sniffs through them, blinking up at the ceiling until she’s back under control.

As she pivots to turn the light off, she spies a purple toothbrush resting on the ledge just above the sink. The other two toothbrushes are electric — one adult-, one child-sized — and stand on the counter.

—————-

Helena and Ramon meet the infamous Ana by accident.

When they leave Eddie’s house on Friday, Helena sends a text message to say what she couldn’t manage to say to his face — that they’re here for him, in whatever capacity he needs, that they’ll take their cues from him, even if that means giving him some space.

To that, she receives a, Thank you.

When she asks for the contact information of the therapist he had scoped out for them, she gets a phone call.

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” her son says, “but are you just doing this because I got shot?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” she laughs mirthlessly. “I’m sorry to say it took our baby boy nearly dying to get our heads out of our ass.”

Eddie huffs a laugh on his end. “Well, I’ll take that silver lining.”

After that, Eddie invites them to a restaurant for brunch on Sunday, but when they reach his doorstep, they find it already occupied by a woman who’s just rung the doorbell, holding a casserole dish in her hands.

When the door opens, Eddie takes in the three of them, his eyes wide and apprehensive.

“Ana, I wasn’t expecting you,” he says, his eyes darting over her shoulder to his parents. He’s smiling, though there’s a clear strain in the corners of his eyes and mouth. They’ve been critical about Shannon for so long — and with good reason, nothing will change Helena’s mind on that — no doubt he’s expecting them to hate this new woman on sight.

“You’re Ana!” Helena exclaims with a wide smile, imbuing her voice with as much welcome as she’s capable. “Hi! It’s so good to finally meet you!”

When Eddie releases the breath he was holding, she knows she was on the mark. Ramon follows her lead and invites Ana to brunch with them on the spot and won’t hear her protests about intruding.

Eddie, of course, doesn’t protest at all but invites them in so Ana can store the casserole in the fridge — it takes both Ana and Helena’s organizational skills to find a spot for it among Isabel’s and Eddie’s tupperwares already invading all available space — and he can finish getting ready. He was already dressed in a nice polo and jeans but when he comes back from his bedroom it’s in a smart button-down he must have struggled with out of sheer stubbornness. Both his parents and his girlfriend are in the house and still he didn’t ask for help.

Eddie and Christopher decide to hop into Ana’s car and Helena asks loudly for directions to keep Ramon from insisting they should all ride together.

“So how long have you kids been seeing each other now?” Ramon asks when they’ve been seated at the restaurant.

“Nearly 7 months now, I think, isn’t it?” Ana replies, looking at Eddie with a dazzling smile — she truly is gorgeous. Eddie was still talking to them when he started dating her so they know she’s a schoolteacher turned vice principal but to meet her in person blows all their other expectations out of the water. She’s lively and sweet, patient and understanding, Latina — a big plus in Ramon’s books ironically. Eddie picked well this time.

Eddie hesitates a moment and nods. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

Every now and again, he squirms in his chair, like he can’t quite settle in and Helena wonders when his last painkiller was taken. But when he catches her face, she smoothes her worry out into a cheeky smile that says I like this one. He smiles back and there’s nothing she can pinpoint exactly but something about it makes her uneasy.

Eddie’s too quiet as they wait for their food, his face pinched, and just when Helena’s about to break, Ana does her the favour of asking gently, “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to take anything for your arm?”

But Eddie shrugs off her concern. “No, thank you. Next one isn’t until noon.” He taps his phone twice and she smiles.

“Sorry, I forgot. He’s got them all on timers with a special ringtone. He’s so organized,” she tells Helena and Ramon with a sunny smile, rubbing her hand down his good arm. “I have one multivitamin and I forget to take it half the time.”

“Buck set it up,” Eddie defers, and Helena schools her face not to react; even at brunch Buck is with them in spirit.

Ramon either takes no issue with the mention or doesn’t register it. He takes the opportunity to share how his new pharmacy pre-packages his heart and arthritis medications into AM and PM slots and Ana listens attentively. Eddie’s fingertip taps absently against the phone case until their food arrives.

Christopher ordered a waffle, and with Eddie indisposed, Helena is already moving to help him when Ana beats her to the punch again. Helena tucks a smile away as Ana leans over and starts cutting the waffle up into smaller pieces.

“He can do that,” Eddie says when he notices Christopher sitting back in his chair, realizing only when Ana startles that his tone is sharp. His voice is softer when he follows up with, “Right, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, picking up his own cutlery with enthusiasm despite his hands being nearly too small for them.

Eddie throws an apologetic grin Ana’s way and brunch continues peacefully, though the stiff line of Eddie’s shoulder never does quite soften.

Mom, listen…

————-

Their first therapy session takes place in Isabel’s kitchen at Eddie’s request. Isabel thinks it’s so he has the option of leaving when he needs to (in other words, when he gets fed up and runs) but Helena hasn’t missed how Eddie has been careful to keep them away from his home since the first day they saw him.

They’ve seen Eddie and Chris numerous times in the week and change they’ve been in LA — more than they’ve seen them since they left El Paso — but always outside of the house. Sometimes they pick Chris up from school, sometimes Eddie and Chris come to Isabel’s for supper, sometimes they go out to restaurants or other outings, but they haven’t been invited back to his home again. She wanted to believe it was because he was hiding the news that Ana had moved in but that’s been shot out of the water both by her ringing the doorbell and an errant comment at the end of brunch about how she hadn’t seen him since the welcome home party.

So it’s out of pettiness, then. Stubbornness. Out of pig-headed inability to accept that he needs help and willingness to believe that they’re making an effort to meet him on his own terms.

She tries not to let it rankle her, tries to find some of that resolute commitment to letting things be and not push. But the next thing she knows, she’s yelling about it to a stranger at Isabel’s island counter.

To be fair, the session with Dr. Jamieson wasn’t going great to begin with. It’s awkward as hell, the three of them balancing on stools, squished in next to each other to try to fit into the screen, but also trying to keep the laptop close enough to still hear her and not have to shout. It’s happening while Chris is at school so they don’t have to worry about keeping him distracted but they can’t exactly ask Isabel to go wait in the LA sun for an hour so she doesn’t overhear, so it’s basically a given that she’s the fourth person on this virtual couch from the next room over.

And beyond that, Helena has kept her mouth shut for over a week which is frankly more time than anyone would have bet on, including herself, and given the opportunity to express herself freely...well…

“You want space? We’ve given you nothing but space since we got here. How much more can we give you, Eddie? You’re hundreds of miles away from us already. Forgive us for feeling the need to check in on our only son who almost died last week,” she yells, her hand nearly colliding with her coffee mug as she gestures.

“Last week?” Ramon echoes with a bark of dark laughter.

“Oh, no, that’s right,” Helena picks up. “I’m sorry! Not a week ago! Nearly a month ago! Because apparently we don’t warrant even a text when our only son almost dies, but that’s not enough space?”

Eddie rakes his fingers aggressively through his hair, his lips pursed.

“We have to move to Mexico,” Ramon continues blithely. “Is that enough space? No, better yet! Sweden! Your family still lives out there, no? We can live on their farm. Completely different timezone, we won’t even be reachable.”

“Yeah,” Eddie bites back, a sour grin blooming on his face, “that’s what I want. I ask you to give me some breathing room — to respect me, my life — and you translate that into living in a fucking commune in Sweden. And you wonder why we’re in therapy. I can’t talk to you, you don’t listen!”

Mom, lis—

“Listen to what, Eddie?” Helena yells, getting out of her seat to pace. “Listen to the months of silence you’ve sent our way? Because we either get on board and blindly cheer on every mess you get yourself into or we don’t get to know you anymore? Don’t get to know our grandson?”

“I never kept him from you — you have our number, the phone didn’t ring. That’s not on me.”

“Because you would have picked up?” Ramon exclaims, pushing away from the island to better look back at their son. “Easy to claim when it’s after the fact in front of the doctor.”

“So now I’m a liar! You raised a liar?”

“I think we’ve gotten off-track,” Dr. Jamieson’s tinny voice interjects from the laptop.

In the bottom right hand corner of the screen, only Eddie remains in the frame.

————

Firehouse 118 was a lively crowd at Eddie’s graduation but it’s nothing compared to the party thrown at the Grant-Nash house in honour of a new probationary firefighter.

Dr. Jamieson pointed out the self-fulfilling prophecy that Eddie protecting himself from criticism and pressure by withholding details about his life in LA was leading to his parents’ growing insecurity over not knowing anything about their son and feeling the need to intervene more and more.

The solution? Let them in on his life and trust that they could hold themselves in check.

For that, even Ramon was in agreement that maybe therapy wasn’t a load of shit after all.

So here they find themselves welcomed into this beautiful and loud home nearly three weeks into their stay in LA. They were allowed to pick Eddie and Chris up so they arrive together but Christopher peels off immediately to find kids his own age.

It’s impossible not to feel the warmth of family radiating from every inch of the home so when Eddie’s shoulders seem to loosen a little as they walk in, Helena can’t find it in herself to begrudge him.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a woman around Helena’s age drawls, crowding into Eddie’s space for a delicate hug he doesn’t hesitate to return. “Though I could have done without seeing another one of these for a few hundred more years,” she says, gesturing to the sling. “How much longer?”

“Another month if everything checks out,” Eddie says, releasing a sigh.

“It better,” she warns with a twinkle in her eye that says if she learns he’s been aggravating his injury there will be hell to pay.

The woman, they find out, is Athena Grant-Nash, wife of the 118’s captain and consummate host. While Eddie splits off “for a minute”, she leads them to the main area for drinks and introductions before leaving them to mingle. Captain Nash — Bobby — meets them with appetizers and introduces them to the Lees, the de-facto parental figures of the young man who just joined the team.

From the spot she claims at the edge of the dining room, Helena keeps an eye trained on Eddie outside. She feels an itch under her skin knowing it’s been nearly twenty minutes and Eddie hasn’t checked on Christopher, but she knows she shouldn’t go herself. Eddie can do everything on his own, right? He can look after his own kid at a party.

She can, however, go to the washroom and take a peek at what Christopher’s up to while she’s wandering, and that’s exactly what she intends to do.

But for now, she watches as Eddie criss-crosses through the crowds of the patio, prompting a localized burst of cheers at each stop as he reunites himself with teammates he hasn’t seen since the shooting. She recognizes the woman who was on the trip to Texas but the rest conjure only the vaguest memories of Eddie’s graduation and the occasional picture on Instagram — before he stopped posting that is. Just one more way they’ve been iced out.

But he seems happy, almost carefree in a way she realizes she hasn’t seen with her own eyes in...longer than this trip, actually.

Probably years, if she’s honest.

And it occurs to her, slowly, creepingly, that her son is outside, smiling freely and easily, surrounded by people he’s made his new family, while Helena stands inside watching his life through a glass window in a stranger’s house.

Mom, listen…

She swallows past the lump in her throat and sighs. Ramon’s arm comes around her waist and without looking at him, she knows he’s had a similar revelation.

Their next therapy session is in a few days, and they’re not going to fuck it up again.

There’s a late arrival to the party, one of the only people in Eddie’s life she can recognize — Buck. He’s as tall as she remembered but he looks a shade less young now maybe. He greets everyone with a hug or kiss on the cheek as he moves through the party, and bestows a cheer and an enthusiastic hug on Albert, the guest of honour.

When he moves on to the patio and approaches Eddie’s circle, however, the cheerful, long-awaited reunion of best friends she expects doesn’t happen. They catch each other’s eyes for a few beats and share a welcoming smile, then the conversation resumes as if nothing of consequence has happened. Buck doesn’t even linger long, heading back into the house after a few minutes.

When the cake starts being doled out, Eddie returns to meet them at the table and accepts the plate Helena offers him. Helena is scouting the yard for a chair he can sit on to eat when Buck reappears.

“He couldn’t be pulled away?” Eddie asks in surprise.

“Nope,” Buck replies with a grin before turning to them. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz. Good to see you again!” Before they can return more than a smile, Buck continues, “he’s cheating at Unicorn Temple with Harry. Not even cake can pull him away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smiles. “My son is not a cheater.” To them, he says, “Buck thinks that whenever he’s losing at a video game, it’s because his opponent is cheating.”

“Not always! Just when they are,” he replies with exaggerated emphasis before scooping a piece of cake onto a plate. “I’m gonna go hide this in the fridge for him for later before it’s all gone.”

Eddie ducks his head and smiles down at his plate, and the questions are building up behind Helena’s teeth again.

Christopher’s been playing video games all this time? Is it an age-appropriate game? Why is Buck checking on your son? Why is Buck saving him cake when nobody asked him to? Why—

But Eddie looks up with an uncertain expression and says, “there’s a table out there if you guys want to join me.”

So Helena stows her questions and says, “that’d be great.”

They eat the overly-sweet cake in peaceful silence until Ramon casts an eye around and says, “you must be glad about the new firefighter. You won’t be the baby on the team anymore.”

Eddie snorts. “I’m 33 and my kid is nearly a teenager — and that’s totally not freaking me out at all,” he adds wryly. “Besides, I was never the baby of the team. Buck is younger than me and forever a kid at heart so I was never in any danger of it.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me that Christopher’s growing up,” Helena only half-jokes. “I can still barely believe he’s old enough to hold his own head up.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and Helena banks it as a win.

“Do any of your coworkers have teenagers?” Ramon asks. “Might have some words of wisdom to share.” Since you won’t ask us, is unspoken and politely ignored by all.

“Athena’s daughter May is just leaving the teen years now, but after her, Christopher’s the oldest. Harry, Athena’s son is 9 and Denny, Hen and Karen’s son just turned 8. It’s great for play dates but not for getting advice on what’s coming up unfortunately.”

“Karen,” Ramon echoes.

Eddie’s fork pauses on its way to scoop some excess icing off his cake and his back straightens.

“Hen’s wife,” he says curtly, daring.

Helena wants to roll her eyes at the posturing. It’s 2021, who cares who anybody loves. She knows Ramon doesn’t, not really, not anymore. It’s a 50-year-long reflex to make a comment, one they’ve been working, if only to have some semblance of a civil conversation with Sophia while she works through a degree in women and gender studies.

But she knows that excuse isn’t going to fly with Eddie.

It hasn’t flown since Eddie was 20 years old and realizing he’d lost a good friend to his father’s caustic words. And Helena can’t ever go back and examine the hurt in Eddie’s expression with fresh eyes. Shemanages to forget about it most of the time until something happens to dig it out of the cold, hard ground and shove it in her arms.

Mom, listen...

But she’s come to LA because she wants to be in her son’s life, in her grandson’s life and she can’t be a coward now.

“They’re a gorgeous couple,” she says, almost too loudly in her enthusiasm. “Are they thinking of having more kids?”

Eddie turns his assessing eyes to her and is mollified by her effort. “Yeah, they’re foster parents now. They’ve fostered three kids so far.”

“That’s great,” she says sincerely. Then, accidentally on purpose and only in part to bring Ramon back to a safe topic, she asks, “Does Ana want a large family?”

Eddie sees through her attempt, but nods. “Yeah, she loves kids.”

Helena doesn’t miss Ramon’s approving nod, or the dark look that passes over Eddie’s eyes when he catches it.

“Was Ana not able to come tonight?” Ramon asks.

“I didn’t ask her,” he answers, his voice a shade too casual. “This is more of a team thing.” As if they hadn’t just been discussing the other families all around them.

“That Ana—” Ramon begins but is interrupted by the arrival of Christopher with a hint of blue icing on his nose and Buck following behind him with two paper plates filled with cake.

Christopher sits backwards on the picnic table bench and uses his arms to lift his legs over while Eddie watches but doesn’t offer to help, and when Christopher is set, Buck places one of the plates in front of him with a plastic fork stuck in the top like a flag.

“Buck was finally able to pull you away, mijo?” Eddie asks as Christopher digs in.

“No, May took her room back so we can’t play on her tv anymore. Harry’s gonna ask his mom if we can play in her room.”

“Yeah...” Buck draws out, sharing a dubious expression with Eddie over Christopher’s head, “I wouldn’t hold out for that, bud.”

“Maybe you can teach the others how to play Scrabble!” Eddie suggests.

Christopher’s nose wrinkles, “Scrabble is boring.”

“Hey!” Buck protests and takes a forkful of Christopher’s cake in retaliation, which prompts Christopher to yell and attack Buck’s cake back, taking much more than a forkful.

The commotion draws attention to their table and Helena’s gearing up to tell Christopher to settle down when she catches Eddie’s eyes on her, waiting.

Helena looks back out to the backyard to say, People are staring.

Eddie looks back impassively as if to say, Let them.

Mom, listen...

Helena swallows her impatience, her anxiety, her embarrassment.

“Hey,” Buck calls, his mouth half full of icing, “did you take your 6?”

Eddie hesitates and that’s enough for Buck to swallow and look put out, already turning and lifting a leg out of the confines of the picnic table.

“Did you turn off your alarm again?”

“I didn’t turn it off the first time, I don’t know what happened.”

“What happened is it woke you up at 6am and you turned it off because sleepy Eddie makes bad life choices.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You don’t have —”

“Right pocket?” Buck interjects, already walking away.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs.

Christopher looks at him and shakes his head with exaggerated disappointment.

“Don’t you start,” Eddie warns, scooping a fingertip of icing and dabbing it on his son’s nose too quickly for him to duck.

Christopher shrieks and reaches for his cake fingers-first.

“Oh no, no,” Eddie laughs, catching Christopher’s fingers with one hand. “Truce, truce.”

Christopher doesn’t look interested in a truce and Eddie’s other arm is in a sling, so Ramon quickly pulls the cake out of Christopher’s reach, and then Buck’s abandoned piece and Helena does the same with Eddie’s.

“Not fair!” Christopher cries, still reaching.

“Your dad’s hurt, mijo, you can’t attack him with icing while he’s healing,” Ramon says reasonably. “Wait till he’s all better.”

“He’s fine!” Christopher declares with the confidence of a trauma surgeon as he tries to climb up on the bench.

Eddie’s not in a position to pull him back down and Helena doesn’t know how far they can take their non-interference but she’s not about to let her grandson hop over a table to fall into three plates of cake. She’s half-decided she’s going to pick up the cake and walk it back inside when Buck returns, depositing a glass of water on the table and a small white pill into Eddie’s palm before swooping in and tickling Christopher’s sides.

He shrieks loudly, gaining looks from all around the backyard, but it gets his butt back down on the bench and Buck sits back down next to him, boxing him in between himself and Eddie.

“What happened to our cake? How’d it get all the way over there?” The plates are very easily within Buck’s reach; it’s a question for Christopher’s benefit.

“Dad got me like you did!” Christopher cries indignantly, pointing to his nose. “I’m getting him back!”

“Oh man,” Buck nods seriously before his finger darts forward, swipes the icing from his nose and brings it to his mouth. “Mmm, this is better than the one I got you with. You sure you don’t just wanna eat it?”

Christopher looks unconvinced.

“How about this?” Buck ducks down to whisper loudly. “You call a truce with your dad, and then I’ll steal all his icing and we’ll eat it.”

The icing on Eddie’s cake is mostly piled in a corner of his paper plate. He’s never been able to stomach the pure sugary sweetness of store bought icing.

“Okay,” Christopher nods back, reaching out again for his plate but without making grabby hands.

Ramon assesses him for a moment before taking the chance to push the plates back within reach.

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck calls deliberately. “You should take your medication now.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie replies with a smile that conveys an eyeroll. “I’ll do that now.”

While Eddie pops the pill and takes a very long drink of water, Buck “sneakily” pulls his plate towards them and scoops all the piled icing onto his own plate before pushing the cake back to Eddie’s side of the table.

Christopher laughs and pushes Eddie’s plate an extra few inches away out of spite.

Eddie plays the disappointed victim passably well with a half-hearted gasp and a shake of his head. “You little thieves.”

As promised, Buck doles out some of Eddie’s icing to Christopher who immediately protests at the amount left on Buck’s plate.

“Hey, when you’re a big guy like me, you get more icing. Keep eating your proteins and you’ll get there in no time.”

Christopher accepts that easily enough. “I’m gonna be tall like dad.”

Buck scoffs, “Aim higher, kid. Literally.”

“I am barely two inches shorter than you,” Eddie laments, not for the first time, it sounds like.

“It’s practically three. Are you really going to lie in front of your parents?”

Wouldn’t be the first time, is on Helena’s tongue because it’s been hours since she could speak her mind, but she holds it in.

“How was the trip from Texas?” Buck asks them suddenly, bringing them back into the fold of a scene they'd never left but somehow stopped being a part of. “Flights have new restrictions on them now, don’t they?”

Mom, listen...

When the party is winding down and they walk outside to the driveway, Eddie surprises them by offering them both a hug.

“Thank you for coming,” he says sincerely, though Helena hears the underlying “and behaving” and can’t help but bristle.

“Thank you for inviting us, mijo,” Ramon says; his turn to save Helena from herself.

And when Eddie lets them know he and Chris will be getting their ride back from Buck, Ramon takes Helena’s hand and they smile almost sincerely as they say their goodnights.

—————-

The next week happens to be Isabel’s 80th birthday and Helena and Ramon keep themselves busy by helping to throw a party that will reunite every vaccinated member of the family in the area (they’re not about to take a chance on Isabel’s health).

Things have been getting better with Eddie. They had a second therapy session, again at Isabel’s island counter, where they lasted a good 25 minutes before devolving into yelling. The next day, Eddie asked Ramon for a ride to physical therapy, and easily accepted his father’s offer of lunch after the appointment.

Then, when Helena asked if she could pick up some groceries for him and Christopher, she was refused — in no small part, she thinks, because he still won’t let them in his house — but instead of going off on him, she channeled that anger and resentment into nearly buying out Costco for Isabel’s party. It felt like progress Dr. Jamieson would be proud of.

That’s why, despite the party officially kicking off around 11am, they’re just past supper time and all tables and counters are still nearly buckling under the weight of the food. They’ll have to send everyone home with leftovers if the flow of people stops. Isabel’s front door has been a turnstile since this morning and Helena knows from experience it’ll likely stay that way until the late hours of the night. Most recently, Helena’s daughters made their appearance, and it’s not at all the reason Helena is back in the kitchen.

Despite coming from opposite ends with different travel distances, Adriana and Sophia arrived within a half hour of each other, a move Helena saw through instantly. The idea that her children coordinated to arrive together instead of risking the possibility of facing their parents alone sets a fire raging in her heart, and she realizes suddenly that she isn’t prepared to be hypervigilant of her every word with all three of her kids here now to push her buttons.

So, she retreats to the kitchen.

She doesn’t expect one of them to follow her in.

“I heard you guys were doing therapy,” Adriana volleys as she approaches.

Helena cracks open the tray of chocolate chip cookies and starts plating them, her face angled down so any kneejerk expression of distaste isn’t as visible. “Apparently, that’s what the cool kids do nowadays.”

“It is,” Adriana agrees, the bangles on her wrists clinking on the countertop as she reaches for the box of oatmeal cookies to plate. She’s a year into her Master’s in communication. What she intends to do with that is a mystery to them. So much of their kids’ lives are a mystery now. Helena closes the lid of the cookie tray hard and relishes in the snap of the plastic groove into the tongue.

“Paying a stranger to tell us when and how to talk to each other is cool,” she bites. It’s not posed as a question, just a bitter acknowledgement.

Adriana is quiet and Helena starts plating mini quiches onto the cookie platter just to stay occupied while her daughter walks away. Sophia is a yeller, she stands her ground and gives as good as she gets. Adriana, however, is a runner, just like Eddie.

But Adriana doesn’t leave in a huff. She turns to the counter and grabs a second platter, moving the mini quiches onto that one.

“It’s cool that you’re open to trying,” she says. “I think that, in any family where there’s love, there’s going to be hurt. And the longer we stay stuck in that hurt, the harder it becomes to talk about it without causing more. We get stuck in patterns that we can’t break out of, and people on the outside can be the best ones to point out those patterns and help you break out of them to get to what you actually, truly want to say.”

Helena knows what she actually, truly wants to say. That’s not the problem. The problem is that none of her kids want to hear it.

“I see a therapist,” Adriana continues. Helena stills and looks at her daughter, calmly arranging the mini quiches into concentric circles. “Since my last year of undergrad. When things got really hard and I couldn’t understand why. They helped me. A lot. Helped me figure out what was wrong and how to get myself through it.”

“You didn’t tell us,” Helena says, her voice thick.

“I know,” her daughter replies simply. “I didn’t know how. I’m telling you now because what I actually, truly want to say is that I’m proud of you and dad for doing this. And maybe if you don’t hate it...maybe we could try a session later too.”

There’s an offer in her daughter’s words, an open hand reaching out. But in that hand, Helena sees her failures as a parent, the judgement of the world for failing her kids, and she doesn’t want to reach her own hand out.

Mom, listen…

Helena looks at her eldest daughter, almost a stranger to her, with an entire life Helena is only starting to realize she has no part in. It hurts — it always hurts when the kids pull away but to realize she didn’t even know the extent of it...she wants to hurt back.

Mom, listen…

But she’s trying so hard to break those patterns Adriana speaks of. So instead, Helena thinks of the therapist’s advice leading them into a piece of Eddie’s life they wouldn’t have otherwise gotten to see and swallows past the indignation in her throat to reach down and find the words she actually, truly wants to say.

“You say when, and I’ll be there.”

———-

The sun is setting when Helena finally agrees to get off her feet and just enjoy the party outside while the cousins take over the serving and cleaning. There are four generations of Diazes gathered around but for the first time ever, most of the cousins are young adults, not teenagers, and it’s nice to be able to pass on the hosting responsibilities to them for a bit.

The sky is clear, the sunset resplendent from Isabel’s backyard, and the conversation is flowing easily. It’s a beautiful evening, warm with a gentle breeze cool enough to let her lean back against Ramon in his lounge chair, one of his arms wrapped loosely around her hip.

For the first time since getting Isabel’s text, Helena feels something like peace wash over her and she almost feels bad for the thrum of vindication in her stomach when she spots Eddie slumped comfortably in an armchair, his legs propped up on another chair.

He’s at home here.

Yes, he was at ease at his captain’s house but this is family, this is where he can really sink into the love and comfort and rest. With his aunts and uncles, cousins and sisters around to take care of him. And Christopher, who spent the afternoon running around and chomping down on all the sugar he could get his hands on, slumped against him, nearly asleep. This is family.

She knows he could find that peace back in El Paso, they both could. Eddie had friends there, and his parents, who knew his son better than he did for most of his life. And there are fires in El Paso same as there are in LA, but less smog, less general insanity.

But Eddie’s a lot like his parents, too much like them maybe, and once he’s decided on a course of action he can’t be swayed. So Helena has made peace with it. Rather, she’s made peace with pretending to be okay with it while she waits for him to come to the realization that he should move back.

And in the meantime, if they can mend this thorniness between them, then maybe she and Ramon can make more of these impromptu trips. Maybe even convince Eddie to come home for Christmas this year. At the very least, go back to regular video chats.

But all that ruminating feels far away right now. She’s moving gently with the rise and fall of Ramon’s chest, and she’s so close to slipping away to the feeling of contentment when a new arrival makes her open eyes she didn’t realize she’d closed.

“Feliz cumpleanos,” she hears someone say in half-decent Spanish from the front door on the other side of the side yard fence.

She doesn’t recognize the voice as yet another cousin or uncle, but Eddie shakes Christopher’s shoulder gently, and says, “hey, guess who’s here.”

It takes a moment, but the words penetrate Christopher’s sleepiness. His eyes pop open and he shimmies out of Eddie’s lap and into his crutches to power walk over to the gate just in time for it to open, admitting Isabel, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and a sheepish looking Buck behind her.

“Buck!” Christopher yells.

Buck’s smile widens and he immediately opens his arms. “Hey, superman!”

Buck crouches down and Christopher throws his arms around his neck, crutches and all. When it’s time to break apart, Christopher’s still hanging on and Helena feels a stab of dark vindication at what’s about to happen, and the look Ramon sends her way tells her she’s not alone. Because Christopher is now officially in the double digits, and while he’s always been an independent kid, becoming 10 years old was a big deal for him and his perceived level of maturity, and apparently the year he decided no one was allowed to carry him anymore.

And now Christopher’s tired and in the grip of a powerful sugar crash. He’s not going to suffer any indignities, and Helena knows she should feel bad about not trying to stop Buck. About just watching this play out to see him be rejected. But she wasn’t expecting to see him here, in this safe haven of Isabel’s backyard, in this space for family and loved ones, and it rankles her. It feels like everywhere she turns in LA, she finds him there. And his being here is just another nail in the coffin of Eddie stubbornly refusing to let his parents back into his home. That he would call his friend to this party just to avoid letting them give him a ride…

So she’s a little bitter, a little resentful of the persistent, low-key rejection. Sue her. Eddie has made it clear he doesn’t want them interfering anyway so this is on him.

“Christopher,” Eddie calls, a warning to not make a scene.

Buck looks over Christopher’s shoulder and smiles. “He’s fine,” he says.

Then he’s heaving Christopher’s body up into his arms and onto his hip and Christopher…

...Christopher slumps down over Buck’s shoulder like a baby koala. No sound of protest leaves his lips. His face, if it shows any displeasure, is hidden behind Buck’s neck.

And when Eddie gets up, it’s not to intercede, it’s only to grab the errant crutches before they hit something, and to pull his own armless chair out for Buck to sit on because apparently Buck is staying, and apparently Christopher is staying with him.

“He’s a bit old to be carried around, no?” Ramon says with a bite, because he can’t help himself.

Eddie, who’s been watching his son fondly, barely bats an eye. “He gets cuddly when he’s tired, and Buck’s nearly the only one left who’s big enough to carry him.”

“Ah, that’s why you spend so much time developing these,” Pepa says with a sly smile as she pinches at Buck’s bicep. The same familiar pinch she gave her own grandkids’ cheeks.

“Gracias a Dios,” Isabel adds meaningfully.

“That was adrenaline,” Eddie dismisses with a teasing grin.

“That was 100 squats and 50 pushups a day,” Buck returns blithely. “...and maybe a little adrenaline.”

“What’s this?” Ramon asks before she can.

Instead of prompting more teasing, the mood falls slightly and everyone looks to each other.

Finally, Eddie sighs. “When I got shot, Buck army crawled under a ladder truck to get me out and lifted me into the truck to get to the hospital.”

It strikes Helena suddenly, shamefully, that in the shock of finding out they’d missed the event itself, the hospital stay, and two entire weeks of healing, that they’d never circled back around for details on what actually went down the day it happened.

She never thought to wonder how he got off that street. How he got to the hospital. Who might have saved his life.

And she wishes she were a better person then. Wishes that learning Buck saved her son’s life overpowered her irritation at having him sitting here in Isabel’s backyard like he belonged here when Helena herself barely felt like she did herself. It does help, though.

“They released the street footage of the shooting,” Pepa continues quietly. “It’s on YouTube. Before I even knew it happened, Marguerita from church just sent me a link saying ‘they said it’s a Diaz, do you know him?’ and I saw.”

The idea of her son’s shooting being passed around like a cat video makes Helena sick, but Pepa lamenting how she hadn’t known when she learned about it in a matter of hours and sat on it for weeks…

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Pepa says decisively. “But they have an angle where you can see our Buck here go and get Eddie, pick him up like he doesn’t weigh a thing and get him into the truck to get to the hospital. Probably why he’s alive today. So gracias a Dios for those squats.”

Eddie and Buck are both looking away, both looking safely at Christopher while the table digests the news.

“If you were looking for a story of something really dumb, I can point you in the direction of another video of Buck,” Eddie says, his tone jovial but his eyes strained.

“You need to let that go,” Buck says in a definite whine.

“Do I?” Eddie asks. “Abuela did you see the video of the firefighter who went up the crane all alone?”

“Dios mío, Buck,” Pepa laments.

“Did you send it to me?” Abuela asks her, pulling out her phone and her glasses to check.

“No, mamá, it was an idiot firefighter but I didn’t realize it was the one we knew.”

“In the middle of an all-out declaration of war on firefighters,” Eddie begins, quietly for Christopher’s sake, but impassioned, sitting up in his chair, “this idiota and his squat count climbed up a crane ladder, completely exposed and defenseless—”

Buck looks pained. “I was wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet. And that’s the job sometimes—”

“The paramedics’ job, actually, which you aren’t. So, no, that wasn’t the job.” Eddie’s tone edges into something darker without his meaning to. He takes a drink of his lemonade looking for all the world like he wished it was a beer. “And you know that or I wouldn’t have found out about it from Chim a month after the fact.”

Helena clenches her jaw tight and squeezes Ramon’s hand even tighter so neither of them can say, So you have a problem being left in the dark too?

“Buck,” Isabel sighs with disappointment.

Buck winces. “It was before— ” He cuts himself off, his wide eyes darting towards Helena and Ramon of all people.

“Hmm,” Isabel answers noncommittally, as if to end the conversation.

Just then, Sophia brings out a platter of bite-sized desserts, making the rounds of the whole circle for people to pick at before leaving it on the table. The opportunity to move on is there. That doesn’t mean they’re interested in taking it.

“Before what?” Ramon asks, his tone is forcibly casual.

The silence that greets Ramon’s question is heavy. Guilty. When Helena casts her eyes around, she’s greeted by stiff shoulders and a mix of apprehension shared between her son, her mother- and sister-in-law, and Buck.

Mom, listen...

“Before what?” Helena repeats, her voice uncompromising.

———-

The fight they have in Isabel’s guest bedroom is a Hall of Famer. It’s a screaming match, no doubt about it. The doors from the bedroom to the yard are all closed but there’s no question every member of the family — and Buck — can hear every word.

“Do you really hate us that much?” Helena demands. She’s crying but she doesn’t know if it’s heartbreak or fury, she just wishes it’d stop so she could lean into her anger. “Genuinely, honestly, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests, keeping his own voice down, making it seem like they’re irrational for their anger.

“Bullshit,” she spits.

“You must!” Ramon adds. “You hate us so much that you have to hate your sisters too? Your cousins? You would rather leave your only son to a stranger, some gringo coworker, than with family? That’s how much you hate us? Hate our name?”

“Our name?” Eddie shoots back incredulously. “What are you talking about, our name? We’re not royalty, papi, and Chris’ name would never change.”

“You would leave him to your coworker,” Helena stresses, disgust dripping from her tongue.

“To my best friend,” Eddie retorts, “who Christopher adores, if you haven’t noticed. And who adores Christopher right back.”

“That’s not normal, mijo,” Ramon warns.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie seethes. “Please do not star—”

“What kind of single adult man bonds with another man’s child like that?”

“You’re describing a tío, you understand that right? What, you think it’s weird that Pepa loves me like her own? You think Sophia should stay away from Chris too?”

“That’s family,” Helena argues.

“And they’re women!”

“Ramon, shut up,” Helena snaps.

“Buck is our family, and he’s a man, and he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. If anything happened to me, Christopher would be taken care of like if I was still here.”

“Buck, the one who nearly got him killed in the tsunami? That’s the same guy right?” Ramon throws out, his eyes a little wild as he paces.

“The one who saved his life in that tsunami, despite being injured and then some. And the one who’s saved my life more times than I can count, including from being gunned down on the street. We’d both probably be dead if not f— ”

“Isn’t he the one who’s family is worse off than ours?” Helena recalls. “So he has no family, no support, no girlfriend even! So a worse position than you’re in now. That’s what you want to leave him with.”

“He doesn’t need a girlfriend to raise Christopher right, I don’t! And he has a great sister, he has the 118, he has Carla, and he has our family. You think Abuela and Pepa would shut the door on him? He’d be here every Sunday, with Christopher, just like I am.”

“And what does your girlfriend think of this?” Ramon presses. “The vice principal, she thinks this is normal?”

“Ana doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Eddie says, frowning.

Helena balks. “You think the woman you’ve been seeing seriously for nearly a year has nothing to do with long-term decisions about your son? You think maybe she wouldn’t want the option of taking Christopher in if something happened to you?”

“That’s not happening, he’s going to Buck and that’s final.”

“What’s going on with you and this gringo?” Ramon asks suspiciously. “Are you even going out with Ana or was that another lie?”

“Ramon, don’t go there,” Helena sighs, her heart clenching. That’s all they need in this clusterfuck, that layer of pain.

“No, let’s go there because you know what?” Eddie asks darkly. “There is no one on this planet I trust with my son more than Buck and yeah, if we need to lay it all out there, that includes the two of you. I know you love Christopher, just like I know Shannon loved him, but that’s not always going to be enough. Buck isn’t going to fill my son’s head with ideas about the wrong kind of way to love someone. He’s not going to tell him he’s not good enough for his family to love him or support him. Buck’s going to make sure Christopher grows up to follow his heart and find whatever makes him happiest in the world, no matter what that looks like.”

“How could you think—”

“What if he grows up to be gay?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring his father down. “You’re telling me you’re going to be the one to help him pick out a suit to go to prom with his boyfriend?”

Ramon purses his lips but tries, “it’s a different world now,” as if he hadn’t just tried to make crass insinuations just to hurt his son.

“Okay,” Eddie says, not believing him for a moment, “what if he’s trans? Tells you at 15 that he’s a girl and he wants to transition. You’re going to get him on hormone therapy?”

“Eddie that’s not—”

“What if he’s 20 and he tells you he got a girl pregnant by accident and he doesn’t know her enough to love her, and he’s not ready to be a father let alone a husband?”

Helena tries to speak but her throat is suddenly too tight for words to get out.

“You gonna tell him he’s not a man if he doesn’t marry her anyway?”

Ramon says nothing.

“Christopher is going to Buck, and that’s final.”

——————-

Helena and Ramon don’t show up for the third therapy session.

Their plane tickets were only for three weeks, originally, and as the days run out, they don’t talk about extensions.

———-

Helena is sitting out in Isabel’s backyard, trying to conjure up that feeling of serenity she got to bask in for all of two minutes the night of the birthday party.

It’s not working.

They’re going back to El Paso tomorrow, leaving their relationship with Eddie in worse straits than when they arrived.

There’s always been a tension between them and Eddie, but there’s also always been love and respect, and that love and respect formed a polite barrier around the things they couldn’t talk about. It kept their relationship safe. Kept them from getting too close to real honesty where things hurt in ways that couldn’t be walked back.

It feels now like that barrier has fallen. That Eddie’s finally reached the limit of what he could hold back and now there’s nothing to help them pretend everything is okay. Nothing to help Helena believe this is all something that could blow over.

That’s to say nothing of Christopher, who’s never felt as far away as he does now, even while they linger in the same city, only a couple dozen blocks away.

Helena scrolls listlessly through her phone’s camera roll for the last few weeks. There are pictures of Christopher mostly, but Eddie and the rest of the family are there too. It hurts to notice how Eddie is markedly happier in the shots where he’s looking away from the camera. Away from her.

Mom, listen…

Helena opens up Instagram and lets herself forget for a moment that anything is wrong. On Instagram, there is only joy and fun. And Buck.

Eddie hasn’t posted anything to his account in months but starting from the end and working backwards, Buck features heavily. He’s in at least a third of the pictures, usually with Christopher. One of the posts includes a short video that she watches. It’s of the day they unveiled the adapted skateboard, and it nourishes her soul. There’s no sadness here, or tension, only pure radiating happiness and excitement. It’s magical.

And it’s meaningful.

Mom, listen…

Helena is out of her chair and pocketing Isabel’s car keys before she can talk herself out of it. The drive to Eddie’s house is made with a carefully blank mind. She knows if she lets herself think about what she’s going to say, she’s going to spiral and get to a place where all this fear and sadness turn dark and ugly, and she can’t afford to risk it.

Finally, she’s knocking gently on a front door she’s only seen three times in the weeks she’s been here.

Buck answers the door.

————-

The house is quiet when Helena steps in.

She doesn’t bother taking her shoes off this time, she’s not sure how long she’ll be allowed to stay. But she notices that the space where her shoes would have gone is taken up by a pair of large boots she imagines fit perfectly on Buck’s feet.

Buck disappears into the living room and she follows quietly after him. The lights are off but the muted tv glows brightly enough for her to see Eddie reclined on his back on the couch, sleeping, and Buck sitting down on the edge of the coffee table to shake his arm.

Eddie’s always been a light sleeper, especially after the army and Christopher. He doesn’t wake easily now.

He’s wearing the sling, but it’s the only indication that anything is amiss with him. There’s no sign of pain or worry on his face, no tension in his shoulders. He’s practically melted into the recesses of the couch. He’s a picture of comfort. And why shouldn’t he be? He’s in his home, away from family, from expectations, and judgements. Just him and Christopher. And Buck.

Eddie finally takes a deep breath that shows his body is coming around but his eyes stay closed. Buck is murmuring something but she only catches, “ — mom — here.”

Then, at last, Eddie’s eyelids part, and the deep laxness of his body disappears almost in the blink of an eye.

“What?” he croaks, already trying to sit up.

Buck’s hands are already moving to support his back.

“ — says she wants to apologize.”

Eddie scoffs and sits upright, feet firmly planted on the floor as he blinks himself awake.

“Mom?”

“I’m here,” she says, stepping closer into the light of the tv.

Buck catches Eddie’s eye and they have an entire conversation in five silent seconds that ends with Buck nodding and getting up from the table, watching Helena warily as she approaches further.

“Watch your eyes,” Buck says quietly to Eddie before flipping the wall switch and illuminating the room. He lingers for a moment, clearly undecided about leaving, before saying, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Finally, Helena is alone with her son in his home. The quiet is almost peaceful, she doesn’t want to break it. Eddie does instead.

“Buck said you wanted to apologize, so I’m assuming he misheard,” Eddie says wryly.

There are pillow creases on the side of his face and Helena can’t remember the last time she saw him look so disheveled, so at home. It makes her heart ache for the days when she’d have to force him out of bed at noon on weekends, drive him to wrestling practice early in the morning, watch over him as he slept sometimes, just to make sure he was okay.

“Shockingly, no,” she smiles sadly.

Eddie blinks up at her for a moment before shifting down on the couch, leaving her some room to sit. She takes the invitation, but once she’s sitting down with Eddie’s full attention on her, she realizes not preparing what she wanted to say might have been a mistake. She has no idea where to begin. What scab to pick at that won’t cause more bleeding.

Then she remembers Adriana’s words.

What is it, under all the posturing, all the hurt feelings, all the history and baggage...what is it she actually, truly wants to say?

“I’m sorry I missed therapy.”

Eddie huffs a surprised laugh. “Of all the things…”

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “But I am. I…” She forces herself to slow down and consider her words. “I realize that therapy was an olive branch for you. One we took way too late and I’m...I’m just so fucking grateful we were able to take it at all, in the end.”

The tears are coming and there’s nothing she can do to stop them. They gather in the corner of her eyes and she tries to blink them away but has to settle for wiping away the ones that fall anyway.

“You were right,” she says. “You said — and your sister said, and the therapist said — that there’s a lot of hurt, and it’s become too hard to...to connect with each other because of it. And therapy is probably the only bridge through that. So even though I was pissed at you, I should have showed up.”

She hazards a look up at Eddie to find his brown eyes wide and cautiously wondering.

“Therapy is what’s going to help us and the only way to fail at it is to not show up.” It’s what the therapist had said in their first session. It had sounded like an easy thing to do then. “And that’s not okay. I’m not going to do that again.”

Eddie nods and looks away. His fingernails are flicking nervously against each other — a habit he picked up from her. “Is dad on the same page as you?”

Helena takes a deep breath, and blows out, “No, your dad is looking for a match to light the page on fire.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but there’s heavy hurt behind the indifference.

“I hid all of them,” Helena offers, “and left Abuela with the fire extinguisher.”

That gets a small smile.

“I really expected you to be more pissed about it than him,” Eddie says, he reclines against the arm of the sofa but no part of him looks comfortable with this conversation.

“Oh, I am—” The rage swells up in her. The outrage and indignation. But again, Adriana’s voice comes to her. “I...am...really, truly hurt, Eddie. I feel...I feel like you told me I’m not good enough to love Christopher how he needs.”

Eddie’s face collapses with disbelief. “You mean the way you’ve been making me feel since he was born? Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Since the moment Shannon got pregnant, you’ve both been hammering it in on us that we’d never be enough, we’d never be good enough for him. Why do you think I joined the army? Why do you think Shannon ran?”

The accusation makes her breathless, it makes that familiar rage bubble up closer to the surface. “Shannon made her own choices, you’re not going to pin that on us. And so did you.”

“No, I can’t pin that on you. She did choose to leave,” he concedes, his voice hardening. “But you spent five years telling her over and over that nothing she ever did was good enough, and when I got back you did the same to me! ‘Don’t drag him down with you.’ Does that ring any bells?”

“I spent five years helping her, being a second parent to Christopher when she was in over her head. She needed help. She wasn’t cut out—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Eddie agrees. “Neither of us were. We were stupid fucking kids who barely knew each other. She was supposed to get back on a plane to California when the semester was done and instead we got married in the backyard because you told us that’s what we had to do.”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie. You want to blame me for Christopher being born? For raising him in a family with two parents?”

“You’re not listening,” Eddie spits.

“I’m listening to you say over and over how I ruined your life because I didn’t let Shannon get an abortion. And that’s somehow the reason to keep us out of Christopher’s life now?”

“No, you’re not—” Eddie closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. “I love Christopher with everything I am. If I had the chance to go back and do everything differently, I wouldn’t. I would never. Being his father is the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I was a kid in over my head and my parents didn’t know what was best for me. Didn’t know how to help me. And I figured that out on my own, I grew up and became the man I am now on my own.” She wants to argue but he’s on a roll. “And that’s fine, no parent is perfect. I know I’m going to make mistakes and I hope to god Christopher can forgive me, so I need to forgive you yours. But I need you to see me, now. I need you to look at me and realize I’m not that kid you put in a suit in the backyard. I’m not the kid that signed up to get shot at instead of facing his life. I’m not that kid anymore, mom. I’m not.”

“I see that, Eddie.”

“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t constantly be telling me I need to move back to El Paso to take proper care of Christopher. You’d see that our lives are here now. I have a job I love and pays what we need. Christopher loves his school, his friends. He’s a popular, genius kid. He’s happy. I’m happy. And we’re doing good. But you don’t see that. You see that dumbass, scared kid making his next mistakes. And I’m sorry but I’m not going to let you drag me back into that spiral. If you need to be the parent to that kid, I can’t be the kid you’re parenting. I’ve grown up, mom.”

“So,” Helena clears her throat, hoping the waver in it will clear too. “That’s what the guardianship is? We...lost sight of you growing up. We didn’t give you what you needed. So you’re punishing us?”

Eddie sighs as if she didn’t understand.

“No, you know what? No, I’m sorry,” she switches tracks, her voice hard, “how are we supposed to see this new person you’ve become, Eddie? You left El Paso, left us behind, you won’t come home for holidays, you even stopped posting on Instagram, and when we come here to see you’re alive you won’t even let us into your home. So how? How are we supposed to see this magical transformation when you won’t let us in?”

Eddie watches her for a moment, weighing his words. “You show up for therapy.”

And that takes the wind out of her sails.

That’s what she came here for.

To apologize.

Not keep yelling.

Mom, listen…

Helena takes two deep breaths and crooks a smile. “Yeah.”

“You yell a lot.”

Christopher’s voice startles them both, pulling a short grunt of pain from Eddie as his shoulder jerks back. Christopher is leaning against the wall into the living room, wearing the disgruntled pout of someone who was woken up for no good reason.

“Christopher…” Eddie begins, trying to leverage himself off the couch.

Helena pushes him back down, and turns to Christopher, opening her arms.

“I do,” Helena admits softly, as Christopher comes over and leans into her side. “I do yell a lot. I’m...trying to yell less.”

“Dad never yells.”

Eddie smiles tiredly.

“Hmm,” Helena agrees, “I think there’s a lot of things I need to learn from your daddy.”

Christopher nods, his eyes drooping. “He’s the best,” he says, snuggling into her shoulder. She’s getting on a plane tomorrow so she takes the opportunity to relish in this hug, and press a long kiss on his curls.

“Ah, I thought I heard an escape artist on the prowl,” Buck says as he turns the corner.

“We woke him up,” Eddie says redundantly. “We’ll keep it quiet now, buddy.”

“K,” Christopher mumbles.

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you back to bed” Buck says quietly as he leans over to carefully scoop him into his arms. Christopher’s arms loop around his neck like he’s done it a million times, and his head falls to Buck’s shoulder.

“Buck’s the best too,” Christopher mumbles.

Buck’s ducks his face away.

“That’s what I hear,” Helena allows in a tone she hopes is gracious.

As they leave, they can hear Christopher say, “they stole your bed.”

Buck responds but it’s too quiet for them to follow the rest of the conversation.

Eddie ducks his head and sighs.

“That’s why you were keeping us away?” Helena asks, her voice more gentle than she thought she could muster at this point. “Because Buck’s crashing on your couch?”

Now that she’s looking, she spots the folded duvet stacked on the chair in the corner, the pillows tucked neatly below. It only makes her more aware that she found Eddie sleeping soundly on the very same couch.

“I didn’t — I didn’t want questions. I didn’t want dad’s look, the same look he has every time Buck comes up. The same look—” Eddie sighs harshly. “I didn’t feel like fielding questions. He was here for Christopher when I was in the hospital and when I came home… He helps. A lot.”

Helena nods pensively, and surprises herself by finding a kernel of gratitude towards Buck burgeoning in her chest.

“So, speaking of fucking up as parents,” she begins with a crooked smile that fades by the end of the phrase. She doesn’t know how to finish that sentence so she starts a new one. “The...hurt that piles up, that makes it hard to talk through...does some of it come from Matty?”

She can see an instinct flare up in her son to shake his head and dismiss the topic, but he doesn’t let it take hold. It’s time to face this.

“It didn’t help,” he admits.

Eddie and Matty met in sixth grade and became best friends almost instantly. They spent weekends in sleepovers, fought off other classmates to be each others’ group project partners, and spent every summer going to the same camps. Matty was an honorary Diaz before they even hit their teens.

Five years later, Matty came out to his family, and then to theirs. His parents took it well, Eddie’s parents didn’t.

The sleepovers stopped, the summer camps stopped, and if Ramon could have sent Eddie to another class he would have.

The day he came out to them was the last day he stepped foot in the Diaz home, a natural consequence of Ramon having run him out with caustic, angry words.

“We…” Helena licks her lips and looks away to gather her thoughts. “There’s a lot of reasons we reacted the way we did. Ignorance, more than anything. It really was a different world back then. But...the world has kept turning, things have kept changing and we can’t pretend to be ignorant anymore.” She looks Eddie in the eye to say, “we were wrong. We were wrong to chase him away. And if the day comes that Christopher is gay or trans or any of the other words we haven’t learned yet, we’re going to love him just as much as we do now.”

Eddie keeps her gaze for a moment before nodding. “I’m glad to hear it.” The way his shoulders gather near his ears says he doesn’t believe her though he’s trying.

Because when Eddie and Matty stood shoulder to shoulder to tell Ramon and Helena the news, Matty wasn’t the only one crushed. And they know, somewhere deep down, that their reaction was as extreme as it was because they were never fully sure if the hurt in Eddie’s eyes was on behalf of his best friend, or if they exploded before more news could be told.

And it still scares Helena to this day, to this very moment sitting on her son’s couch. It’s why they welcomed Shannon at first, the first girl Eddie really brought home, even though they didn’t approve of her overall.

But she knows now that there’s nothing anymore, not her pride, not her ignorance, that will stop her from trying to bridge the gap between them. So she continues deliberately, “and if this new, grown up version of you comes with any of those words, we’re not going to love you any less either.”

His eyes widen and for a moment she’s looking at her 17 year old son in the living room, eyes wide as Matty runs out of the house. She wishes this moment could replace that one, stamp out that mistake forever. But it can’t, so she has to make this one count even more.

“I’ll still be here, and I’m listening. I...I see you,” she says. “You and Christopher. I see you settled in so well here, even now with your injury.”

Eddie remains quiet, but apprehension creeps across his face and his eyes dart behind her where Buck and Christopher disappeared.

“I see the boots at the entrance,” she continues, her voice pitched low, “the extra toothbrush you forgot to hide away. The tupperwares full of food Isabel and Ana didn’t make. But more than anything, I see Buck. Everywhere.” A smile creeps up her lips. “The only place I didn’t see him was at brunch with Ana and call me crazy but I feel like you would have preferred he was there too.”

Eddie’s lip is being chewed to within an inch of its life, and his eyes are trained on the couch cushion.

“Hey,” she taps his knee. “You...grew up to be a good man, and a good father.” The words are so many years too late but she’s grateful to see them land as Eddie’s eyes begin to shimmer. “And you deserve everything you want for Christopher. Happiness, whatever that looks like.”

Eddie swallows thickly and clears his throat. “And dad?”

“Dad...has his head too far up his own ass to see or hear anything,” Helena admits. “But he’s due for a colonoscopy soon so I’ll work on it.”

Eddie chokes on a laugh that catches him off-guard and suddenly they’re both laughing, quietly so they don’t wake Christopher up again.

When they recover, Eddie invites her to the kitchen for a drink, where Buck is packing Christopher’s lunch for school tomorrow.

When she leaves, her stomach is in knots she imagines won’t smooth out for a few weeks yet, but a weight’s been lifted off her chest and her heart is full in a way it hasn’t been in years.

When she lands in El Paso, her phone pings with a message from Eddie: Hope you had a good flight. Free Friday for a call?

———-

When Friday comes, after catching up with Christopher, Eddie tells them he broke it off with Ana.

Helena digs her nails into Ramon’s knee instinctively, but she prepared him well and despite his continued reservations, all he says is, “That’s too bad, mijo.”

———-

Two months of virtual therapy and video chats later, Eddie tells them he’s bisexual. They react the way they should have all those years ago, and Helena tries to be grateful they got to have this moment at all instead of mourn for the years Eddie lost because of them.

There’s no mention of Buck, but Eddie’s eyes flit fondly over the laptop screen every once in a while at Christopher and someone else off-screen.

The call takes place at 8am LA time, and the sling has been gone for nearly three weeks.

———

At Christmas, Eddie and Christopher are waiting for them with smiles on their faces at LAX’s baggage claim. When they get home, Buck is there opening the door and helping them with their luggage.

Isabel isn’t there to mediate but supper that evening goes smoothly. The tension that lurks is anticipatory on all sides, a feeling of this being too good to last. But by dessert, everyone is sitting back in their chairs and smiling. And when Buck rounds the table to start the clean up, he places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his thumb brushing the back of Eddie’s neck, and Helena watches as the last bit of strain melts out of his body.

The basket of gauze is nowhere to be found in the bathroom, nor is the purple toothbrush. Instead, there’s a third electric toothbrush standing in line with the rest.

Helena’s been keeping an eye out for opportunities to follow Adriana’s advice. To find the words she actually, truly means, and say them before she runs out of time. So before turning in, she takes Eddie aside and tells him, “I’m really happy you found your home here in LA. I’m really proud of the family you’ve made.”

And when she closes her arms around him, she can feel him fold into her like he used to as a kid, no polite distance or anxiety. Just comfort.