#still need to figure out how to set my voicemail

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART FOUR ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 5.5k

A/N: Alright this chapter is a little shorter than the other one's but the next few will be longer! We finally get to see the outcome of Azzi leaving 🫣. Please keep leaving comments and live reactions, they seriously make my day.

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November 2023

Paige had tried calling Azzi that morning, her fingers hesitating over the screen before she finally pressed the call button. The phone didn’t even ring before going straight to voicemail. She frowned, trying again, only to be met with the same result.

Frustrated but not willing to give up just yet, Paige decided to try Caroline, figuring Azzi might have told her where she was or needed her help if she did go somewhere. But when Caroline answered, her tone was firm, almost apologetic. “Paige, I can’t tell you,” she said. “Azzi asked me not to.”

“Seriously, Caroline?” Paige snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.

Caroline sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I just… I can’t. You’ll have to wait until she’s ready to talk to you, she just told me she needed to get away.”

Paige ended the call feeling even more irritated, a bitterness creeping into her chest. So she moped around the suite for the rest of the day, her phone always in hand, checking it incessantly. Every notification made her heart jump, only to have her disappointment and hurt settle deeper when she realized it wasn’t Azzi. At one point, desperate to get her mind off of things, Paige tried going to the gym. She pushed herself through a far too intense workout, hoping the burn in her muscles with each set would drown out the ache she felt in her chest, but it barely made a dent in her mood. 

By the next day, when she still hadn’t heard from Azzi, her frustration had morphed into something darker. She didn’t want to admit how much it hurt—how much Azzi’s absence left her feeling hollow and unsettled—so she did what she always did when she didn’t want to deal with her emotions.

She found someone else. 

The girl showed up that evening, and while Paige went through the motions, it was different this time. Her actions were almost mechanical, her words borderline cold. She made it clear from the beginning that this was just for sex, no strings attached, and she stuck to it. When they were done, there was no lingering, no casual conversation, no pretending like she would call her. Paige stood up from the bed and handed the girl her clothes without hesitation.

“You can go now,” she said casually, her tone devoid of any warmth, of any emotion at all for that matter.

The girl looked taken aback, but Paige didn’t care. By the time the door clicked shut behind the stranger, Paige was already strolling into the common area, her expression unreadable, acting as if nothing had happened.

This pattern repeated over the next two days, Paige’s encounters becoming increasingly detached and transactional. She barely even looked at the girls as they left, her mind elsewhere entirely.

Wherever Azzi had gone, the damage would already be done by the time she got back. Paige’s hurt had hardened into something sharper, and she wasn’t sure if she was angrier at Azzi for leaving or at herself for caring so much that she did. 

…

Azzi stepped into the suite late Monday night, three days after she had left, with her bag slung over one shoulder and a determined expression on her face. She was tired from traveling back from wherever she had been, but the weariness didn’t dill her resolve. She needed to talk to Paige. 

The sound of buttons being furiously pressed drew her attention to the couch, where Ice sat with her headphones on, deeply engrossed in the game in front of her. Azzi gave her a small nod as Ice looked up.

“Hey,” Ice greeted, briefly pausing the game.

“Hey,” Azzi replied, as she glanced toward Paige’s closed door.

Ice noticed the look on Azzi’s face and raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything at first. Azzi turned away, heading straight for Paige’s door. Her hand was already on the knob, ready to open it without knocking—something she’d done a hundred times before.

“I wouldn’t,” Ice said kind of frantically, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Azzi paused, glancing over her shoulder with a confused frown. “What?”

Ice leaned back on the couch, her game forgotten for the moment, and gave Azzi a serious look. “Just… trust me. Knock.”

Azzi hesitated, the unfamiliar warning sending a feeling of unease through her. Still, she trusted Ice enough to take her advice. So with a quick exhale, she knocked on the door.

For a few moments, there was only silence as she waited. Then the door swung open abruptly, and Azzi found herself face-to-face with Paige for the first time in days.

Paige stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable, almost stoic. The usual warmth in her blue eyes was replaced by a cold detachment that sent a pang of guilt through Azzi’s chest. Azzi opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, her gaze shifted past Paige to the girl lying on her bed.

The girl was half-covered by a blanket, her hair messy and her body language far too comfortable. When the sight hit Azzi she  immediately felt like she was about to throw up and whatever words she’d been about to say died in her throat as she just stood there.

Paige’s expression didn’t change, her blank eyes meeting Azzi’s as if daring her to react. “What?” Paige asked flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.

Azzi’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her hurt was too sharp, too raw to translate into words. Instead, she just stood there, stunned and speechless

Paige scoffed, the sound harsh and dismissive, and without waiting for a response, she slammed the door in Azzi’s face.

Azzi stared at the closed door, still lingering as if she could somehow push through the moment. But the sight of Paige's expression and the girl on her bed played on a loop in her mind, each replay cutting deeper.

Ice watched the whole thing but didn’t say a word. She just watched Azzi, her usually teasing demeanor replaced by quiet concern. As Azzi turned away from the door, Ice’s gaze followed her retreat, but she made no move to intervene.

Azzi walked past Ice without meeting her eyes, her shoulders stiff, her thoughts racing with everything she had planned to say but couldn’t. Ice let her go, sinking back into the couch with a sigh, silently bracing herself for whatever fallout was brewing between the two. 

…

The tension that had settled between Paige and Azzi after that wasn’t just a passing thing. It was a slow burn, spreading through every practice and team event. For the past week and a half, everyone witnessed the shift. Nothing overly dramatic, nothing that caused an outright scene, but something was different. The chemistry that once seemed unshakable between Paige and Azzi had been replaced with an uncomfortable distance, one that made even the simplest things feel like obstacles. 

Nika and Aubrey worked tirelessly with one another in practice to offset the forced movements, calling plays and adjusting to shifts in defense. But the connection between Paige and Azzi was broken. The fluidity they had once shared was absent, and the team could feel it.

It wasn’t just the lack of contact between them at practice; it was the silence that filled the space between each word they exchanged. When Geno called out instructions or made them do something together, their responses were clipped, their focus seemingly more on avoiding the other than executing the plays.

Some of the team tried to pry, casual questions about how things were going between them, but each attempt was quickly shut down. Paige would just brush it off clipped comments that were emotionless, and Azzi wouldn’t say anything, simply turning away, her usual warmth replaced with a wall that many of them hadn’t seen before.

It wasn’t that Paige didn’t care—it was that she cared too much. She just didn’t know how to express it. She couldn’t even look at Azzi without feeling the ache in her chest, the gnawing sense of loss that had taken root after that morning when she woke up alone with no explanation. So, she continued to fill the void, as she always had. She barely even noticed the girls anymore, but she kept bringing them around, hoping that doing something, anything, might help drown out the silence between her and Azzi and stop the thoughts from swirling in her head.

She couldn’t quite articulate why she did it to the few teammates that asked—it wasn’t because she was interested in any of them and she definitely didn’t get anything from the exchanges. It was just that they provided a brief distraction her mind clawed at in desperation to ease the dullness she was feeling through her entire body. 

Each time Paige came home with a new girl in tow, Azzi’s irritation only deepened. She would be on the couch or in the kitchen, trying her best to remain composed, but the moment Paige walked through the door, it was as if the air shifted. Azzi’s eyes would narrow, her jaw tightening, and if she was already sitting, her posture would become rigid. Sometimes, if she was on the couch, she’d roll her eyes so dramatically that it seemed painful, the silent judgment lingering between them. She’d scoff under her breath, but never utter a word to Paige, as if silence alone could speak louder than anything she could say. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to confront Paige; it was just that the words never came.

The hurt was so clearly written on Azzi’s face every time, but Paige couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge it. Her own heart was in too much turmoil to even care about whatever Azzi was feeling. The silence, while deafening, was easier than facing the rawness of everything they’d both been avoiding.

One morning, after another night spent at a girl’s house—another night of doing absolutely nothing this time around—Paige walked back into the suite, hoping to slip in unnoticed. Azzi was already in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in hand. She didn’t look up when the door clicked open, but the second Paige stepped inside, Azzi’s voice cut through the stillness.

“Nice at least you had the decency to actually stay the night with this one.” Azzi’s words were sharp, her tone biting.

The comment hit Paige like a jab to the ribs, the weight of the unspoken accusation hanging in the air between them. She froze in the doorway for a moment, the anger building in her chest before she exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing.

Paige’s voice was cold, her usual tone with Azzi these days. “You don’t really get to speak about that, considering your history Azzi.”

Azzi’s eyes snapped up, her expression twisted in confusion and irritation. “What the hell are you talking about?” she shot back. “I’m not the one who’s sleeping with the entire campus.”

Paige scoffed, the sound bitter as she shook her head. “Niice let’s pull the whole Paige sleeps around card” she muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Whatever Azzi.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked into her room, slamming the door behind her, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment.

The silence that followed was harsh, until the faint shuffle of footsteps broke it. Ice stepped out of her room, brow furrowed as she took in the tension that had been hanging in the air. She glanced between Azzi and the door to Paige’s room, clearly concerned.

“What happened?” Ice asked, her voice low, but carrying the weight of her worry.

Azzi didn’t even look up, her gaze fixed on the empty space in front of her. “Nothing. Just another day,” she said, brushing off Ice’s question, trying to sound indifferent.

Ice crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. “Azzi, come on. I heard the door slam. That’s not ‘nothing.’ What’s really going on?”

Azzi exhaled sharply. “Ice it’s nothing I want to talk about, alright? Just drop it.”

Ice, who had spent days walking on eggshells around the two of them, wasn’t having it this time. She stepped forward, her expression soft but firm. “Look, Azzi, I get it. You two are in a rough spot right now. But I’m telling you, whatever you did to her you need to fix it.”

Azzi’s chest tightened at the implied accusation. She lifted her head, her tone defensive. “Why are you assuming I’m the problem here? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Ice’s gaze softened, but her voice remained steady. “Look, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. I’m just putting two and two together Az. Paige was the one drowning herself in drinks that night. I had to basically carry her up the stairs when we got here. The next morning she came looking for you and she’s been like this since then…so.”

Azzi’s jaw clenched as the words sank in, but she didn’t let herself show how much they were affecting her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ice,” she muttered, eyes diverting from Ice’s gaze.

Ice let out a soft sigh, her frustration giving way to genuine concern. “Azzi You might not see it because you’re pissed at her right now or whatever, but you know Paige is the sweetest most selfless person we know. But whatever happened that night... it turned her into someone I don’t even recognize anymore. She just looks so sad or angry all the time and the few times she does crack a smile at someone it seems forced and out of obligation. That’s bigger than whatever argument you two are having. So please just fix it.”

Azzi’s breath hitched at Ice’s words, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of guilt and doubt about what she should be feeling. But she quickly shut it down, unwilling to listen, unwilling to accept that maybe she had played a part in all of this. Her mind set on her version of events. “Like I said, it’s not my fault,” she said sharply, as though trying to convince herself.

Ice’s voice grew softer, really trying to get through to Azzi. “You know Paige would do anything for you. She’d turn the whole damn world upside down if it meant you would be happy, and I know you know that because you teased her about it all the damn time. But right now whatever is going on, whatever happened I can tell she feels like you’re just... another person she’s lost and you know how she gets in her head about stuff like that Azzi.”

Azzi froze at Ice’s words, her heart beating harder in her chest. A part of her wanted to believe it. A part of her knew just how much she meant to Paige, But the bitterness inside her that had to watch Paige go back to sleeping around with random girls like it was nothing refused to let go. So she shook her head, a hard look in her eyes. “Paige treats me like every other girl she gets bored with, Ice. I doubt she’s as broken up about us not talking as you think.”

Ice didn’t even react to Azzi’s words. She had seen enough to know that they weren’t true. “Come on, you don’t even believe that,” she said, her tone calm but pointed. “You know exactly how she feels–you’re just not ready to admit it.”

Azzi didn’t respond. Instead, she let out a small, frustrated sigh and walked toward her room, shutting the door behind her without another word.

…

Even though Paige and Azzi weren’t in the best place—both of them carrying an unmistakable anger toward one another—they still cared about each other more than anything in the world. It was like they were tethered by an invisible string, a constant pull that neither could escape. No matter how far they drifted, they always came back, surfacing for a quick breath of air when they knew the other needed it most before going back under.

That’s why, when Azzi’s birthday rolled around, Paige couldn’t bring herself to ignore it. She knew how much Azzi had been dreading this day. They spent hours talking about it one day during the summer, the time where they would spend everyday getting to know one another. Azzi was spending her birthday without her family for the first time. So it didn’t matter how hurt, angry, and confused Paige was; she couldn’t let the day pass without doing something.

Azzi stepped into her room, the quiet stillness pressing against her in a way she hadn’t expected. Birthdays had always been bittersweet, but this one felt heavier—emptier. She had tried not to think about it all day, pushing the pang of loneliness aside. No family. No big celebration. Just another busy day of her telling the team she didn't want to celebrate. 

Her gaze drifted toward her bed, and she stopped in her tracks. Sitting squarely on her pillow was a small, carefully wrapped box. The wrapping paper—adorned with the smiling faces of Elsa and Olaf—brought an involuntary laugh to her lips, soft and tinged with nostalgia. She knew instantly who it was from.

The memory of forcing Paige to watch Frozen—not once, but maybe 10 or so times—brought a bittersweet ache to Azzi’s chest. With a shaky breath, she walked over, picking up the box. The wrapping wasn’t perfect, corners slightly crumpled, but it was clearly Paige’s best effort. Azzi ran her fingers over it, a sad smile creeping onto her face.

She sat down on the bed, careful as she tore open the paper. Inside was a small jewelry box. When she opened it, her breath caught in her throat. Nestled in the box was a beautiful silver heart pendant, simple yet elegant, glinting softly in the light from her room.

Azzi’s fingers traced the smooth surface of the heart, her thoughts inevitably drifting to Paige. The way she smiled, the way she laughed, even the way she annoyed her most days– every detail of the blonde seemed to live in this small necklace. But her attention was soon drawn to the card that also rested on her pillow. Her chest tightened as she opened it, already bracing herself for what was inside.

The handwriting was unmistakably Paige’s—slightly messy but deliberate ‘Happy Birthday Az.’ But what truly made her breath hitch were all the signatures and words around. They were all from every single member of her family.

Tears welled up in Azzi’s eyes as she read the words they had written, her vision blurring. Paige had somehow managed to reach out to Azzi’s family—miles away—and have them all sign the card. She couldn’t even fathom how much effort Paige must have put into this, knowing how much it would mean to her.

A single tear slid down her cheek, followed by another, until they came freely. She clutched the card to her chest, her emotions unraveling as she whispered into the empty room, “God, Paige… why can’t you just let me hate you for a minute.”

In that moment, all the pain, the distance, the walls they’d built between them seemed to crumble just a little. Even when they weren’t talking, Paige had cared enough to remind Azzi she wasn’t alone. With trembling hands, Azzi unclasped the necklace and slipped it around her neck, fastening it securely. The weight of it against her skin was both comforting and overwhelming. And that, more than anything, left Azzi completely destroyed.

Despite this, the silence that lingered between them stayed the same. Both of them were experiencing feelings they had never felt before and couldn't find it in themselves to talk to one another. No words seemed like enough to express just how broken each of them were, just how much they both felt.

There was a hesitance that lingered between them, like an invisible wall neither knew how to break down. Pride? Fear? Hurt? Maybe all of it at once. Conversations that used to flow so naturally now felt like a daunting task, weighed down by all the unsaid feelings and misunderstood actions. 

So, Paige and Azzi continued to exist in the same space, but their silence had become the loudest thing between them. The atmosphere in the apartment wasn’t as heavy but it still lingered and they both bore it in their own way. Paige had stopped bringing girls home, though it wasn’t out of any sense of compromise—more like resignation. They didn’t hold her attention, and it was more draining than anything to sit there and pretend to listen to whatever it was they had to say. The season kept her occupied, and though UConn had won their first two games, the chemistry between the players was strained. And it was clear to everyone—especially Paige and Azzi—that they were capable of so much more.

Then came the third game.

Despite the fact that UConn had won, Azzi played a game far beneath her usual standard. Missed shots. Bad decisions. A lack of the confidence that had once been her trademark. It wasn’t a total collapse, but it was jarring to watch it unfold. And everyone could feel it. The team had pulled through, but Azzi’s performance lingered in the air, like an unspoken question no one could answer.

Back in their shared suite, Azzi was isolated. She’d retreated to her room after the game, a rare moment when she didn’t have the usual fire in her eyes. The slow loss of her confidence throughout the game had been too much to handle, and as she scrolled through social media, the criticism rained down on her. The comments, the posts, the critiques—they all hit harder than they should have. The self-doubt crept in, overwhelming her. She knew she was better than this. She knew she could do better—but tonight, it felt like the world was telling her she couldn’t.

Paige, knowing exactly how much Azzi struggled with this kind of pressure knew Azzi would internalize it all, even when she shouldn't. So Once again coming up for a breath of fresh air even with the silence that lingered between them, Paige silently made her way to Azzi’s room, her hand reaching to open the door.

When she stepped inside, the sight of Azzi laying on her bed with her phone in hand, eyes red-rimmed and filled with tears, knocked the air out of her chest. Paige didn’t say a word. She simply moved toward Azzi, gently taking the phone out of her hand. Azzi didn’t fight her, didn’t protest, her hands too weak to stop Paige’s gentle movements. Paige locked the phone and set it aside before crawling under the covers next to her.

Azzi didn’t immediately respond. She kept her distance, staring at the pillow, her breathing shallow. Paige hesitated for just a moment before she carefully pulled Azzi on top of her, guiding her head to her chest. It was an unfamiliar gesture—but the silent bond they shared, the deep connection that tethered them to one another, made it feel like home the moment Azzi rested her head on Paige’s chest. Paige rubbed slow, soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her hand tracing over the familiar patterns as Azzi finally gave in, burying her face deep against Paige’s chest as the tears began to flow freely.

The silence between them was thick, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with everything they couldn’t say. Azzi’s emotions—about the game, about herself, about everything she had been holding in—poured out in the form of quiet sobs. Paige didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just held her, feeling the warmth of Azzi’s body pressing against hers, reminding her of everything they still had, everything they could have.

As the time ticked by, Paige continued rubbing soothing circles on Azzi’s back, her touch slow and steady. The tension in Azzi’s body began to fade, her cries growing softer with each passing second. Paige could feel the weight lifting from Azzi’s shoulders, even if just a little, as she finally started to relax. Eventually, Azzi’s breathing evened out, slow and steady, and before long, the crying ceased altogether. The silence in the room deepened, and Paige felt Azzi’s body become still in her arms.

When Paige finally realized that Azzi had fallen asleep, her breath soft against Paige’s neck. Paige hesitated, a portion of her brain not wanting to disturb her, the other portion loving the way Azzi felt against her chest. But as much as she wanted to stay, to keep holding Azzi and never let go, she knew she had to leave. Slowly, carefully, Paige tried to extricate herself from Azzi’s grasp.

As she moved, Azzi, still in a deep sleep, unconsciously gripped onto Paige’s shirt, her hand clutching the fabric tightly, as if trying to keep her there. This made Paige’s heart ache. She could feel the pull of Azzi’s need, but as much as it hurt to tear herself away, Paige knew she couldn’t stay.

With a quiet sigh, Paige gently unwrapped Azzi’s hand from her shirt, and though every part of her wanted to stay in that bed, stay in that moment with Azzi, she slowly slipped out from under the covers. She stood beside the bed for a moment, looking down at Azzi’s peaceful face, before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on Azzi’s forehead. It was a kiss full of tenderness and care, an unspoken promise that, no matter how broken they were, there was still something between them that could be fixed.

She pulled away, her heart aching, and shut the door softly behind her.

As Paige walked toward her room, she caught sight of Ice standing in the hallway, her eyes immediately locking with Paige’s. The concern in Ice’s gaze was unmistakable, but it was the sadness in Paige’s blue eyes that struck her the hardest. Ice saw it. She saw how badly Paige was hurting, even if Paige was trying to hide it.

Without saying a word, Ice opened her arms, a silent offer of comfort. Paige hesitated for a moment, her chest tightening, before she reluctantly stepped into the embrace. She forced herself to hold it together, unwilling to break down in front of anyone. She stayed still, but her arms were stiff, her mind racing with all the things she wanted to say to Azzi, but couldn’t.

Eventually, Paige pulled back, the hug lingering just a moment longer than she wanted, and gave Ice a weak smile, barely more than a fleeting, pained expression. Without another word, she walked past Ice, retreating into the quiet of her room.

…

After that night, the silence between Paige and Azzi clearly wasn’t one of anger anymore. It was much softer, filled with longing, a quiet understanding that neither of them could fully name. They missed each other. 

It started off slow. It went from both of them keeping their doors shut all day to them leaving them open. They would sit in the common area, not speaking, but neither one of them moving to leave. It was as if the space between them was hanging on a delicate balance, each of them too cautious to disturb it. 

Paige would catch glimpses of Azzi absentmindedly playing with the necklace she had given her, the one she only took off for games and practices now. It was a small gesture that spoke volumes. Every time Paige saw it, a slight smile would tug at her lips. 

They both had waved the white flag, they just didn’t know how to break the silence. 

Paige now sat on the edge of Nika’s bed, her hands pressed into her lap, fingers twitching with restless energy. She couldn’t meet Nika’s eyes, even as her twin studied her with a knowing gaze as she was trying to get Paige to finally talk about what happened. 

“Paige,” Nika said again softly, her voice a calm counterpoint to the hecticness that had been brewing inside of Paige. “I know something’s been bothering you. It’s been weeks, just talk to me so we can figure it out.” 

Paige just shrugged, eyes flicking to the window as if the answer could be found in the dull gray light outside. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, Nika.”

But Nika wasn’t convinced. Besides Azzi she knew Paige better than anyone, knew the signs when Paige was holding something in. This wasn’t the usual “I’m fine.” This was different—subdued, like Paige was a thread stretched too thin, about to break.

“Paige,” Nika insisted, her voice softer now, “stop shutting me out. I can tell something’s been going on with you. We’ve been through too much together for you to hide it from me.”

Paige’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting to the floor. There was a tremor in her chest, and she fought to keep it contained. She wasn’t ready to talk, wasn’t ready to let anyone see the cracks in her armor just yet. 

Nika didn’t push too hard, but she didn’t let up either. She sat down next to Paige, close enough that the warmth of her body was a quiet comfort. “Come on,” Nika coaxed, her voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you’re not fooling anyone anymore. Definitely even me.”

Paige exhaled sharply, then, almost as if the words had been building up in her chest for too long, she whispered, “We slept together.”

Nika blinked, not sure if she’d heard her correctly. She tilted her head, voice steady but curious. “What? Who?”

Paige’s gaze snapped to the floor, her throat tightening as she repeated it, a little louder this time. “Azzi. Me and Azzi…we slept together.”

Nika absorbed the words, the weight of them sinking in slowly. She had seen the chemistry between Paige and Azzi for a while now, had seen the way they glanced at each other, the quiet touches when they thought no one was watching. It wasn’t surprising, exactly, but hearing Paige admit it was different.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Nika said, voice soft but not judgmental. “Why is that a bad thing? It should be good, right?”

The question hung in the air, and that was when it happened. A single tear, slow and hesitant, escaped from Paige’s eye, tracing a path down her cheek; because yes, it should’ve been good. It should’ve been amazing. Paige’s hand instinctively went to her face, as if trying to catch the tear, but she couldn’t stop it. She felt it—felt everything—the confusion, the hurt, the abandonment all spilling over in that one small, silent tear.

Paige’s chest tightened, her breath catching as her walls finally crumbled in the quiet of Nika’s room. “She was gone the next day,” she whispered, her voice cracking. The words felt like rocks in her mouth, heavy and painful. “She... she just left me. When I woke up, she was gone.”

The floodgates opened then, the words pouring out faster than she could contain them. Her shoulders shook as another tear slipped free, and then another, until the tears were flowing in uninvited yet unstoppable. Paige’s chest heaved as the weight of it continued to press down on her, the pain she had been holding in finally spewing out. 

Nika didn’t say anything at first. She simply reached out, pulling Paige into her arms with a tenderness that only she could offer. 

“It’ll be okay, twin,” Nika whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’ll be okay.”

Paige couldn’t answer. She could only let herself break, the sobs wracking her body as Nika held her close, whispering assurances over and over again. The comfort of Nika’s arms right now was the only thing that kept Paige from completely losing herself to the turmoil inside her, she missed Azzi so much.

After a while she fell asleep in Nika’s bed, the weight of her emotions finally easing in the stillness of the room.

Nika didn’t disturb her. She let Paige sleep, knowing how much she needed the rest. After a few minutes, Nika gently moved away from the bed, making sure not to wake her. She grabbed a piece of paper from the nearby desk and scribbled down a quick note:

Wanted to let you sleep. Text me if you need anything. I'll be around. -Twin

With a soft sigh, Nika placed the note on the pillow next to Paige before she quietly exited the room.

The rest of the suite felt too quiet as Nika walked to the common area, her mind racing trying to figure out how to fix the situation. She needed to do something. There was only so much she could do by offering comfort. She needed to handle the bigger picture. 

She pulled out her phone, her fingers moving with purpose. Within seconds, she created a group chat with the rest of the team, making sure Paige and Azzi weren’t included. The message was simple:

Team meeting in 20 minutes. Can’t be in my suite.

[hairstevington]

call me when you get this

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie and Steve are best friends, but even the best of friends have secrets.

WC: 3K

Warnings: Story told through voicemails, mild angst, coming out to each other, secret feelings, friends to lovers, kissing, swearing, light angst very brief, references to Robin and Gareth, drunk shenangians, idiots in love, set in 1991 but it doesn't matter too much, no mention of the Upside Down stuff

A/N: I have like three other WIP's happening and zero time but this idea was given to me by the beloved @tinytalkingtina in the discord and then I couldn't get it out of my head. Ao3 link here for those interested!

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 12:52am

GARETH hi yes I know it’s late but HAVE YOU LISTENED TO THE ALBUM YET? I need all of your thoughts immediately. Like, all of them. Every thought. Dude, my head is spinning. Ohhh, man. Kurt is a fuckin’ legend. Woooow. Okay, I could talk about this shit for like three hours but I don’t want to run out your tape so just call me back when you get this and then talk to me about it for three hours. Can I come over a little early tomorrow? Yeah, I’m gonna come over a little early tomorrow. Maybe a lot early. Alright, catch ya then. 

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 3:40pm

Uhh, ha. Hey Steve. Thiiiis is Eddie, obviously. I, uh, I just realized I called you in the middle of the night last night on accident, and - uhh, sorry about that. It was just - ah, screw it. You know what I am. Byeeeeee-

Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 7:30pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Eds, how many times do I have to tell you to change your answering machine message? What if, like, the president calls? Okay, maybe not the president. But an employer or something. Or, like, what if you give the girl of your dreams your number and she calls you and hears THAT? Food for thought. Uhh, anyway, it’s fine. I wasn’t even home when you called me. Robin was, though, and so you’ll probably hear her wrath next time you come over for movie night. Good luck with that. Oh, wait. You’re at a show tonight, right? Damn. I swear I’ll make the next one. Okay, bye, dickhead. 

Wednesday, September 25th, 1991, 1:12pm

“You have reached Steve Harrington. Figured I should say that in case whoever is calling me thinks they’re calling someone else. Anyway, I’m busy right now so I’ll call you back. Bye!”

Ha, ha. You are so funny, Harrington. You ever think about being a stand-up comedian? Jesus, and you say I’M the dramatic one. Uhh, the show last night went well, by the way. Not that you were THERE. Seriously, what kind of friend even are you? I’m hurt, Steve. I’m hurt. Anyway, see you tomorrow for movie night. I get to pick. It’s only fair, right?

Thursday, September 27th, 1991, 4pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

You’re not picking the goddamn movie. No way. Last time you did that we got scarred for life. Also, um. I can’t tell if you’re joking or not about me and your shows. I didn’t realize you - uhh, you’re probably joking. Forget I said anything, and see you tonight. I’m at work right now, so I’m gonna rent some backup options just in case.

Sunday, September 30th, 1991, 2pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Dustin says you were being a total dick last night. Good. That shrimp deserves to be humbled every once in a while. Your answering machine message still sucks, by the way, and yeah I’m gonna tell you every time. 

Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:21pm

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Steve. My guy. I can’t believe you make fun of me for my bullshit message all the time and now you’ve created and advertised THAT abomination?? I’m - wow. I forgot why I even called.

Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:23pm

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Okay, I remember now. I know you said you have that date tomorrow with Heidi or Melissa or Samantha or whoever is currently obsessed with you, but I really do want you at the show if you can make it. You can bring her, if you want. Actually, it might be a good test. If she hates metal, she fails. I only want the best suitors for you, Steve Harrington. Be there or I’ll be REALLY annoying about it forever. 

Tuesday, October 2nd, 1991, 11:45pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Hey, it’s Steve. So, uh - I saw your show tonight. You’re probably not home yet, but I don’t know where you are. Cuz like, I tried to find you after your set but you disappeared. I hope everything’s okay. You sounded great, by the way. I mean, you all did. Remember me when you’re playing at the Garden? Oh also, I heard like three women talk about how badly they wanted you, so…I dunno, just figured you’d like to hear that. Hey, maybe you got with one of them and that’s why you’re not answering. In that case, hope you’re having fun? Okay, now it’s weird. Bye, Eds.

Wednesday, October 3rd, 12:54am

“Hey, this is Steve.”

“And Robin!”

“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”

“We are probably together.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, that too.”

“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”

“Probably.”

“Probably!”

Steeeeeeeeeeeve. You absolute buffoon. You beautiful, oblivious man. Why’dya think I wanted you there’so badly t’night, Steve? T’wasn’t for the girls. Ha, girls. Yeah, okay. I may have had several alcoholic beverages, Steve-o, but you’re still the dumbass. Cuz you’d have to be an absolute idiot t’think I have any interest in those women. ‘Specially yours. Your women, I mean. Sandyyyyy. Ugh, she was perfect for you, Harrington. Juuuust perfect. So perfect I didn’t wanna stick around to see any more of it. I hope you two have beautiful children. Name one after me, will you? Uhhhh I think I might puke. So, I’m gonna go, but - but do you get what I’m saying? Do you - do you get it? Tell me you get it. Steve, I - Oh, hey Gareth. Do you wanna talk to Steve? Wait why are you - Dude, I’m FINE. I’m handling it! Stop! Gareth, don’t hang up the phone, I haven’t -!

Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 9:05am

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Dude, did you fucking break into our apartment last night? Robin and I came home this morning and found a broken lock and some shitty note we could barely read next to the answering machine, and - what the fuck, man? You wiped the damn thing clean. Just - call me back, okay? Jesus. 

Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 11:36am

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

Eddie, come on. We really need to talk. I’m not - I’m not mad, honest to God. Call me back, as soon as you get this. Got it?

Thursday, October 4th, 1991, 3:47pm

“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”

It’s movie night, but I’m assuming you won’t be here considering you’ve pulled your magic disappearing act. Thanks for that, by the way. You know you really piss me off sometimes? All the time, actually. I’m getting real tired of you constantly poking fun at me, and then you pull this breaking and entering shit and just take off? Just like that? We’ve been friends for years, Eds. You and me. But you never want to just be serious, not once in your goddamn life, and I’m over it. So, uh, thanks for that, I guess. I dunno what I did. 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:12pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

Huh. You know what? I kind of miss the old message you had. Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m impossible to please, yada yada yada, and now I’m doing the avoiding with humor thing again. Shit. Uhh, hi. Listen, I’m sorry I disappeared off the face of the earth for a while. Really, really fucking sorry, if you can believe it. I was just, like, mad embarrassed, and I didn’t wanna - uh, can we meet up soon? Alone? Like, without Robin even? I know that’s - like, unheard of these days, but I figure maybe you’d make an exception for me. Or maybe you won’t. Just let me know, yeah? 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:30pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

See, I would just hop on over to your place to talk but the thing is, I’m a total chickenshit and it’s not like I did super well the last time I showed up to your place unannounced, so…Uhh, while we’re on the subject, I’m sorry about your lock. If you haven’t replaced it yet, I will. I’ll at least pay you back. In my defense, that thing was like two seconds from falling off anyway. But still. Anyway, I know you always spend Sundays at home, soooo…hellooooo? Come on. At least pick up the phone and tell me to fuck off. I know you’re listening. At least - I hope you are, anyway. Just pick up, man. I - I really gotta talk to you. 

Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:37pm

Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!

So, quick update, I called Henderson. He confirmed you are at home, which means you are DEFINITELY listening, and either you’re trying to punish me or a part of you still finds my piece of shit ass charming somehow. Look, I know I fucked up, but - but I can explain. Shit. I mean, I’m not good with words or anything and I’m a total asshole but I - just, please. Pick up. Pick uuuuup. Come on. Now you’re just being a dick. Ha. Figures, I’m apologizing and calling you a dick in the same message. Dude. Seriously. Your tape is gonna run out of space and then what? You stop hearing from me? I’ll find other ways to annoy you, promise. This is a threat. Steve. Steeeeve. Pick up pick up pick up pick upppp -

“Will you just shut the hell up already?”

Eddie dropped the phone and heard it clack against the floor. He would have recognized that voice anywhere. 

He turned around and there he was. 

“Steve, what are you -?”

“You would just be yapping on that damn answering machine my whole drive here,” Steve said with his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I expected any less. And, thanks to you, we had all the space in the world for you to take up, so -”

“H-how did you get in here?” Eddie stuttered. 

Steve rolled his eyes. “What? You think you’re the only one who’s not afraid of breaking and entering?”

They hadn’t seen each other in five days. Hadn’t even talked, aside from a few voicemails. And those never told the whole story. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie began. 

“Yeah, you should be,” Steve replied, taking a step closer to Eddie in the kitchen. 

Eddie winced, his heart racing a million miles a minute. He just had to get all of the words out, while he still could. While Steve was listening. 

“I left you this really stupid voicemail,” Eddie explained. “That night, after the show. I was drunk off my ass, and - and Gareth told me I’d said shit I shouldn’t have said, and then I panicked, and the two of us went to your apartment and I - well, you know the rest.” He slumped down into the chair at the dining room table, putting his head in his hands. “Which is all just so dumb. And I didn’t wanna deal with the aftermath, so…”

“So you stopped talking to me?” Steve said, taking another step closer. “Because you thought that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back in our friendship?”

Eddie shook his head. “I dunno, I -”

“You’ve done some real weird shit over the years, Munson,” Steve continued. “Sneaking into my apartment doesn’t even make the top three.”

Eddie buried his face in his hair. No amount of boyish charm would get him out of this one. Jesus H. Christ. 

He sighed. “Okay, so I overreacted, what else is new?” 

“I heard the voicemail, dickhead.”

Eddie’s heart went from breakneck speeds to stopping entirely. 

“What?”

Steve sat down in the other seat at the table. “I heard the voicemail. It was 1am, again, so yeah I was at home.”

“I thought you would have been with Sandy,” Eddie muttered.

Steve shook his head. “Nah, Sandy was - she’s great and all, but she isn’t - she’s not -”

“So you heard the voicemail, but you weren’t home when I showed up,” Eddie noted.

“Right,” Steve said. “Because I was headed to your place.”

“What?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I just - I didn’t understand why you never told me you were queer. Like, you know I don’t care about that. You know about Robin…”

As Steve talked, Eddie realized that Steve only heard half of what that voicemail was trying to express. So, it was time for Eddie Munson to face the music. 

“I didn’t tell you I’m gay because I knew that once I did, you’d figure out the rest of it,” Eddie blurted out.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “The rest of it?”

Eddie groaned. “Oh, God. See, drunk me had the right idea saying this kind of shit over an answering machine. Christ, I’m so bad at this, but I’m just gonna say it, because if I don’t I think I’ll lose my shot with you and I - I can’t deal with that. So, here we go.” He squeezed his eyes shut and powered through. “Steve, I - ha, shit. I love you, dude. I’m - I’m IN love with you. I have been since, like, forever.” He opened his eyes, but kept them fixed on their feet against the linoleum kitchen floor. “Which is, uhh, a lot, I know. But it’s the truth. So if there’s any chance -”

“Oh, my God,” Steve interrupted. His voice wasn’t angry, or scared, or anything like that. It was soft and understanding. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Wait, what are you thinking?” He looked up to see Steve staring off into the distance before meeting his gaze. 

“I’m thinking,” Steve replied. “That I owe Robin twenty bucks.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and felt his heart skip back into rhythm. “You do?”

Steve nodded with a slight smile. At some point, his hand had ended up on Eddie’s knee. “Yeah, I didn’t believe her. Told her no way, not possible.”

Eddie didn’t know how to feel about this reaction. It wasn’t the worst possible response, but it certainly wasn’t Oh, Eddie! How I’ve longed for you all this time! Take me now! 

A middleground, if you will. 

“Oookay,” Eddie said. “Well, I don’t really know what to say now.”

“I’m queer too, ya know,” Steve continued.

"Wait, really?" Eddie balked. "Steve Harrington, ladies man?"

Steve chuckled. "Uh, yeah. Turns out, not so much," he said. "I feel like I’m pretty open about it. Guys, girls, whatever -”

“Yeah, but we all do that,” Eddie reasoned. “Me, you, and Robin all talking about how hot everyone is on our movie nights. It doesn’t prove anything.”

“Except that it totally does,” Steve countered. “Because, like, what do we all have in common?"

Eddie thought about it, and he didn’t have any other defenses.

“O-okay, so you’re queer too,” Eddie said. “And the other thing I said?”

Steve took a deep breath and looked Eddie directly in his frightened eyes.

“Eds, obviously I love you too,” Steve admitted at last. “Come on, seriously? After all I’ve put up with? I’ve been waiting around for like five days for you to call, like some lovesick puppy, and the moment I heard your voice I drove here instead of picking up the phone like a normal person. I’ve got it so bad for you that Robin is sick of it, and honestly, I’m sick of it too, because I hate having feelings. It blows, dude. I swear to God, if you try to bolt again when things get tough -”

Eddie lunged forward and cut Steve’s words off with a kiss. Their first kiss, even if it didn’t feel that way. Eddie had cupped Steve’s cheek in the past while he teased him. Steve had curled his fingers in Eddie’s hair in the past the night Robin taught him how to braid. Eddie and Steve had all kinds of physical contact in various ways over the years, and it was as if all of that was just practice for this. 

Eddie broke away from Steve’s lips purely out of necessity, because he needed to catch his breath. “Okay, woah,” he said.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Woah.”

Everything changed after that. But also, nothing changed at all.

-

Tuesday, October 16th, 1991, 4:12pm

“Hey, this is Eddie Munson’s phone. Leave a message and I’ll call ya back.”

Hi, Eds. Okay, I was wrong. This new message you have is, like, super boring. Anyway, I’ll see you at the show tonight, Rockstar. Love you. 

xx

I did have a taglist way back when but the tagging system is super annoying on tumblr, so please reblog this if you liked it and follow me or my Ao3 for other works! Masterlist is the pinned post on my page for those interested. Thanks for reading!

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Prologue: Before It All —jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 + explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, these two really do hate each other ❥chapter warnings: Fighting (verbal), swearing, mutual hate ❥word-count: 2.4k ❥Series Masterlist ❥ || Next Chapter ❥ Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭

Your final together was tomorrow, after a month of painfully hard work it would finally be over. Except you hadn’t heard from Jungkook  this week at all. From what you can tell he seemed to finish all of his portion of the work. You on the other hand, due to some finals, were a little behind but you had no doubts that you would be able to catch up. 

Not hearing from Jungkook did have you somewhat concerned. 

You both were normal last week but this week radio silence. You had texted him just keeping him updated on the progress of your work. You choked it up to him probably being swamped with his own work, and his own projects for other classes. So you tried not too worry. 

You sent one more text, anxiety rising with each passing minute.

:hey sorry to text you again. I’m just checking in! I should be able to finish in the next hour or two, so don’t worry.

:we are going to kill this presentation in the morning.

May have been a touch late to texting someone, it was 1:30 in the morning. You didn’t care though, he had texted you at like two in the morning before. So, you figured he’d forgive you.

But the second you sent the text.

The lights and your laptop had switched off. You sat in completely darkness. Suddenly the emergency lights shown by your door. You turned on your flashlight. Your laptop was old so your power being out means that you don’t have a laptop to work on. You made your way to the hall where some others had gathered. Asking what had happened.

Your RA eventually came up to your floor and told everyone not to worry, they were going to have the power on soon and to stay in our rooms for now. That we would get some text updates. You decided to not panic yet, soon after you did get a text saying that their was a an on campus outage and the problem would be resolved soon.

“Seriously?” you muttered, going back into your room. You texted Jungkook again.

:hey sorry I swear this is the last one, power in my dorm is out.

:and you know how my laptop is, so I have to wait until the power comes back.

:still going to kill it tomorrow!

Forty-five agonizing minutes later, the power finally returned. You rushed back to your laptop, praying everything was still there. But when you opened your document, it was blank. Completely empty.

“No,” you whispered, frantically searching for any backup.

Your entire month of work was gone. You tried finding a previous version, but there was nothing. Not on your hard drive, not in your email, not even a single backup copy. Every word, every citation, every carefully crafted paragraph—vanished. Except... Jungkook might have a copy.

You grabbed your phone and called him, your fingers trembling. Voicemail. You called again, and it rang once before going straight to voicemail again.

“Jungkook, pick up. Something happened. I need you to call me back.”

Panic set in as you scoured every corner of your computer. Desperate, you even checked old drafts and random notes on your phone, but there was nothing. Your heart sank. You called Jungkook two more times, but there was still no answer.

You were going to have to start over.

You knew the material—you’d been working on it every day for a month—but rewriting it from memory was going to be a nightmare. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and started typing. Every minute felt like an hour, but you pushed through. Tiredness clawed at you, and your eyes stung from the screen’s glare, but there was no other option.

Five hours later, you finally finished. The paper was nowhere near perfect, but it was something. A B, maybe a C at best, but it was better than nothing. Exhaustion overtook you the second you hit save, and you collapsed into bed.

It felt like only a second had passed when your eyes snapped open. You scrambled for your phone, the panic setting in again.

10:05 AM.

Ten missed texts and three missed calls from Jungkook.

“No!” You leapt out of bed, pulling on the first clothes you found, emailing the paper to yourself while sprinting out the door. You raced across campus, nearly tripping as you weaved through students, your breath burning in your lungs. By the time you reached the classroom, the hallway was filled with students leaving.

You pushed through the door, your hair a mess, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Shit, no, no, please.” You spotted your professor leaving and tried to push your way forward, only to be blocked by Jungkook.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” he sneered as you stumbled in, breathless and disheveled.

“Jungkook--” you began, but he cut you off.

“Where the hell have you been? Why weren’t you here?” His voice was icy, and he took a menacing step toward you, making you step back.

“I—I fell asleep!” You stammered, tears welling up. Your exhaustion was really hitting you, and you couldn’t hold them in, “Did you see my texts? My calls? My voicemails?”

“Texts and calls don’t mean shit if you’re not here!” he snapped. “You’re acting like you care, but you clearly don’t. You’ve been flaky this entire time.”

“Jungkook, that’s not fair—”

“Not fair?” he cut in, voice rising. “Maybe you did this on purpose! Maybe you’ve been plotting to screw me over!”

The accusation hit hard. “Are you seriously accusing me of sabotaging you? I’ve worked my ass off for this project!”

Jungkook’s eyes were cold. “And where were you when it mattered? You think your excuses are enough? Friends don’t disappear.”

The recent reconciliation between the both of you now dissolving on the ground between the both of you. You both had taken huge strides to become friends despite your resistance.

“Friends don’t accuse each other of being petty schemers!” you shot back, the anger surging. “I’ve been working all night to fix this, and you’re just throwing all my effort back in my face!”

“Maybe I’m tired of your games,” Jungkook retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. “Maybe David was right about you. Maybe he was right that this is something you do.”

David, your ex-boyfriend. Who had manipulated so many people into believing that you were crazy, when he had cheated on you multiple times. What hurt worse? Jungkook knew all of this, knew that David was an asshole. Knew that David was an awful person who lied every time he spoke.

Now he was throwing it in your face, what the hell was wrong with him?

The sting of his words was unbearable. “How dare you! I trusted you to be reasonable. You said you believed me when it came to what David said about me. How dare you throw that in my face! I came here ready to explain, ready to make things right. But you’re too busy being a jackass to listen.”

“I may be a jackass but at least I can be relied upon.” he said quietly, almost dismissively.

The words cut deeper than any knife. “You know what? I don’t need to defend myself to someone who’s already made up their mind. You’re not worth the effort, since you are so quick to blame others. You’re just like David after all.”

You turned away, feeling tears spill down your face. You walked away, not looking back. You had to save your grades, even if it meant cutting ties with Jungkook for good. Didn’t really matter, you two didn’t know each other that well anyways.

You found your professor, explained everything through your tears, and showed him the evidence. He listened, though his sympathy couldn’t override the rules. He allowed you to submit your rewritten paper but couldn’t let you do the presentation. He promised to grade fairly but couldn’t guarantee a good mark.

You received a D. It was lower than you hoped but enough to pass. Jungkook, however, failed, delaying his graduation.

You felt a grim satisfaction, but the bitterness lingered. The loss of the friendship gnawed at you, even if you hated him. You’d never see him again, and you were more than okay with that.

That was five years ago now.

The memory lingered as fresh and raw as ever. You had moved on, grown, and carved out a space where Jungkook’s existence didn’t matter. That was until you became friends with Melanie, who in every sense of the word was your best friend. Though, because fate is a funny thing, she fell in love with Namjoon. Namjoon’s closest friend was none other than Jungkook.

That relationship kept you and Jungkook in each other's lives for longer than either of you had cared for.

Forcing the two of you back into each other’s orbit. That also meant facing Jungkook repeatedly, each time resulting in fights so venomous you wondered how Melanie and Namjoon put up with it. So many clashes over so many years, so many attempts by mutual friends proved futile in bringing the both of you together. Eventually, everyone gave up and just made sure to never have the two of you in a room together.

Now with Namjoon and Melanie’s engagement, a wedding loomed around the corner.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, mind still reeling from the past. The fallout from that final class had changed everything. Every time you saw Jungkook since then, it was an instant—words turned to daggers, and every conversation became a battlefield. Neither of you ever backed down; pride kept you both locked in a bitter stalemate.

“Just a heads-up,” Melanie said, breaking you out of your thoughts. She hesitated, eyes flicking away as if bracing for impact. “I know how you two feel about each other, but he’s Namjoon’s best friend.”

You knew what was coming, but you still grimaced. “Don’t tell me.”

Melanie sighed. “Jungkook is his best man.”

You clenched your jaw, the anger bubbling up instantly. You had known this was inevitable, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. “Of course, he is.”

Melanie’s living room felt unusually tense, the soft glow of the evening sun doing little to warm the atmosphere. Melanie had always been the bridge between you and Jungkook—constantly trying to keep the peace, but it was becoming increasingly clear that this time was different. You couldn’t just show up, exchange a few biting remarks with Jungkook, and call it a day. This was her wedding. This was the culmination of everything she’d dreamed of, and she deserved your best effort.

Melanie took a deep breath, her stern expression softening just slightly. “I know it’s a big ask, and I wouldn’t push it if I didn’t have to. But Namjoon and Jungkook—they’ve been through so much together. He’s not just a friend to Namjoon; he’s like a brother. And I need you both to make this work.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words. Melanie was trying to keep the peace, but the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. She had seen you and Jungkook tear each other down time and again. Seeing the tears you shed over the times he would hit the nail on the head, and say something that went too far. Held you back from starting a physical altercation with him.

Each encounter was more bitter than the last, and every argument chipped away at the thin veneer of civility you both clung to.

“I promise,” you said, your voice steady despite the resentment simmering underneath. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Melanie’s lips twitched into a small smile, but her eyes remained cautious. “Thank you. And I mean it, no half-hearted attempts. I need rainbows and kindness coming out of both of your asses.”

You laughed despite yourself, appreciating the way Melanie could still inject humor into even the most awkward of situations. “Got it. Rainbows and kindness. I’ll bring a whole damn unicorn if that’s what it takes.”

“Good, I don’t know what I would do if we had another new years situation.” Although it was years ago, that was probably the worst fight you and Jungkook had. The things that were said and the drink you dumped on him are very present in your mind. Made you laugh to yourself even but it definitely caused a bot of an issues in your group.

You shook your head, feeling a familiar pang of bitterness. “Yeah that was a really low moment for me. I think because of that things between us will never change. He’s still that same arrogant jerk who can’t own up to his mistakes. And I’m done pretending I care enough to fix anything.”

“People change,” she said softly, it was something she tried to convince you of many times. “But I get it. You don’t have to be friends—you just have to coexist.”

“That, I can do,” you said firmly. “I’m not going to let him ruin this for you.”

“Thank you,” Melanie said, squeezing your hand. “I’m so happy you accepted the role. I couldn’t imagine my wedding without you there.”

“For you? Anything,” you replied, your resolve hardening. You would hold onto your promise to Melanie, no matter how much Jungkook got under your skin. This wedding was about Namjoon and Melanie, not you and whatever animosity you harbored toward Jungkook.

The room lapsed into a comfortable silence, but your mind was racing, already plotting ways to avoid Jungkook’s inevitable provocations. You pictured the rehearsal dinner, the ceremony, the reception—any scenario where the two of you would be forced to interact. You would keep your distance, smile politely, and not engage. If Jungkook’s presence was like a storm cloud threatening to ruin the day, you would be calm. You owed Melanie that much.

“When the wedding rolls around, I’ll keep up appearances and be civil and kind,” you said, trying to reassure not just Melanie, but yourself. “Jungkook might be the spawn of Satan, but as long as I don’t speak to him directly, everything will go perfectly.”

No amount of promises could erase the deep-seated anger you felt every time you saw his face. This time, though, you would have to bury it, if only for a weekend. You would smile through gritted teeth, hold your tongue when he inevitably said something infuriating, and pretend you were above it all.

You had months to prep yourself though. Plenty of time to make sure that nothing Jungkook could do could piss you off.

Nothing that weekend will surprise you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭

❥ || Next Chapter

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭

[coff33andb00ks]

55 + george because i can’t stop thinking about him

"Stay there. I'm on my way."

driver + number = drabble <3

thank you for this darling George definitely needs more fics 😌

warnings: drunken fuckboy behaviors, not proofread, part of my upcoming mafia au universe

suggested listening: The Devil is a Gentleman by Merci Raines

You're not quite sure how you let Charles talk you into coming along to the party, but here you are, still nursing the drink you got when you first arrived. You've danced, enjoyed some chatter with other people. The music's getting louder and the party goers are getting rowdier but you know Charles will take you home.

You just have to find him.

Couples are making out out in the open. Making your way through the room, you gasp as bodies crash into you, wincing when your drink spills down your front.

"Hey doll what's your hurry?" a voice slurs, and you shudder at the feel of a hand grabbing at you.

Charles. Charles. Where the hell is Charles? You wrench away and push through into the next room, pausing long enough to set your empty glass down. The room is relatively empty, save for a handful of couples dancing too close for your comfort. No sign of Charles.

"C'mon, doll, we got some good stuff that'll help you relax." It's the same drunken voice and you immediately look for an exit. Either up the stairs or out the door, and you don't like the idea of being outside and even more vulnerable.

Upstairs it is, and through the first door that doesn't lead into a bedroom. You're grateful it's a bathroom and lock the door behind you, leaning against the door as you try to figure out what to do next.

"Doll where you at?"

Pulling your phone from your purse, you try calling Charles ten times, each one ringing until voicemail picks up and after the fifth slightly panicked message you don't bother.

Fucking Charles. When I see him again I'm punching him right in his stupid adorable face.

You scroll through your contacts, mentally crossing off each one - you don't think the florist will come pick you up - and stop at the most recent addition.

George R.

Tall, so very British, you met him in the bookstore last week, both reaching for the same book. You'd joked that he was picking up Pride and Prejudice for his girlfriend, he'd told you no, just replacing a dogeared copy. Somehow that had led to a discussion of the classics, and he'd smoothly offered to exchange numbers.

"Perhaps we can meet and discuss more favorites?"

"I'd like that."

This wasn't a favorite. This was an emergency. And you remember that he seemed like the type a stranded woman could call in case of emergency.

He answers on the second ring.

"Hi. It's..." You barely get your name out, tensing when there's a banging on the other side of the door.

"Of course." He pauses. "What's wrong?"

Later you'll ask him how he knows something wrong but the drunken asshole is still banging on the door. So you tell him what's wrong, and don't think twice when he asks if you're at the Stroll estate.

"Stay there. I'm on my way."

The phone beeps and you blink, staring at the screen as the banging ends. Pushing away from the door, you set your phone down and wash your hands, feeling them shake as the doorknob rattles. You're certain he'll give up, but he doesn't, continuing to call out–

"C'mon doll playin' hard to get just makes me want you more."

–and rattle the door.

Until, suddenly, he stops. Your eyes widen when you hear what definitely sounds like a fist meeting a face, followed by thud of a body hitting the floor.

Then, gently, a knock.

"It's George." He sounds so calm. As though he regularly goes out in the middle of the night and punches drunk guys out.

When you unlock the door and open it, he's there. Looking as though he just left some swanky dinner party in his suit and tie.

His expression is concerned, and when you glance at the crumpled figure on the floor behind him he shifts to block your gaze. "Did he hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, he... He didn't touch me."

"You're sure?" he asks, searching your face. When you nod, he seems satisfied. "Let's get you home then."

Grabbing your phone, you let him guide you from the bathroom, glancing back at the man on the floor. "Did you–"

"He would have passed out soon, my dear. Absolutely sloshed." George has a gentle grip on your arm, ushering you down the stairs and out the front door, seemingly unconcerned by the surroundings. A car is waiting at the base of the wide front steps, still running and driver's door open. He opens the passenger door for you and you sink into expensive leather.

"Thank you," you say once he's behind the wheel and driving away from the house.

"It's no trouble at all," he assures you.

"I don't usually do this." You don't know why but you feel like you have to explain yourself. "Parties and all that. I just came because my friend–"

George snorts.

"Invited me along," you finish lamely.

"The Stroll family isn't a safe, my dear," he advises after a moment. "I'm not sure how closely connected your friend is with them, but if you care for your safety you'll stay away in future."

"Was that guy one of them?" you ask softly.

"No, I don't think so."

The rest of the ride is quiet, and when he parks in front of your house he gets out to walk you to the door. And suddenly he's the affable man you met in the bookstore, asking to meet tomorrow for lunch. His lips are soft against your cheek in the seconds before you go inside, and you're smiling as you close the door.

It's not until you hear his car drive off that you realize he hadn't asked you your address.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 11

Hey guys! This story is moving right along, though Act 2 might be a little shorter than Act 1. Mainly because I'm running out of plot on the

"Steve struggles with being a sugar baby" aspect of it. But we'll see.

In this Steve drives his dream machine, Eddie cheers him, and Steve watches bad porn.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

The car drove like a dream. It was smoother and sleeker than the Bimmer, too. Steve reveled in the soft seats and great handling.

When he pulled up to the record shop, he almost didn’t want to get out of the car. But he needed more variety in his music than just Corroded Coffin tapes.

He wandered through the alternative rock section. He picked up a couple of albums he already had like “Some Great Reward” and “Black Celebration” by Depeche Mode, just to have them in his car. Then he picked up the most recent album that he didn’t have yet, “Music for the Masses”. He of course picked up another copy of Tears for Fears’s album “Songs from the Big Chair”. He could never have too many copies of that one.

He picked up more from other greats like Duran Duran and INXS. A bit of Queen, too. But somehow he found his way to the metal section. He wasn’t sure if they had anything like Corroded Coffin. But he felt like it didn’t hurt to look.

That was when the clerk came up to him. He had ignored Steve while he was in the alt. rock section. And when he got closer Steve could see why. The kid was wearing a Megadeath t-shirt.

“Can I help you find something?” the kid, whose name according to the name tag was Aaron, asked in a sharp, nasally voice.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a smile. “I’m just getting into the metal scene. Can you help me find something similar to Corroded Coffin. I went to a concert of theirs recently and really liked it.”

The kid looked in his basket and sneered. “Maybe not spend so much on that kind of music for a start.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Who says these aren’t gifts?”

Aaron had the decency to grimace, but Steve pressed further. “Besides do you really want to dissuade me from spending a lot of money at your store, just because you don’t like my taste in music?”

This time the kid blanched. He cleared his throat. “So um...if you’re looking for stuff like Corroded Coffin, I recommend Dio, Iron Maiden and Metallica.”

Steve turned on his brightest customer service smile. “Thank you!”

He waited until the pimple pusher trotted off back to whatever fresh hell he had crawled from before he went looking for the guy’s recommendations. He picked a couple that looked interesting with the knowledge that if he liked them, he would come back for the others.

He made sure to pay with the black credit card with an evil grin. He watched the guy bag his tapes and brand new boombox flushed red from the embarrassment Steve was putting him through. It probably wouldn’t stop him from harassing customers in the future, but it was satisfying nonetheless.

He loaded his prizes into the passenger seat of his shiny new car and drove back to the hotel. He decided to take the stairs, he was just that over flowing with excitement.

Once in the hotel room, he set his prizes on the side table and flopped belly first on the bed, kicking off his shoes on the way. He picked up his phone and dialed Eddie. He figured it would go to voicemail but he couldn’t wait to tell him about how much he liked the car.

So he was surprised when Eddie picked up. “Hello?”

“Eddie!” Steve cried, rolling over on his back and twirling the cord around his finger. “I thought I was going to have to leave a message.”

“Hey, little Canary,” Eddie murmured warmly. “I just got back to the hotel after my sound check.”

“Lucky me,” Steve replied happily. “I love the car. It’s beautiful and amazing and while I want to say you didn’t have to do that, I don’t care. It’s an incredible gift.”

Eddie chuckled. “When I saw Sunbird I giggled like a school girl. I couldn’t pass it up. Made sure it was yellow and sent it over as soon as I could. I’m glad you like it baby.”

“Have you got my present yet?” Steve asked. It had been a couple of days since he sent it and was eaten up in curiosity on what he thought about it.”

“I have my mail here...” he said trailing off. “Let’s see here...Ah ha! I found it! From Steve Harrington.”

Steve could hear him open the box and dig through the paper he’d wrapped in to make sure it arrived safe. Then Eddie was laughing so hard.

“I can’t believe you sent me your fake ID,” Eddie said once he had stopped laughing. “That is hilarious. Thanks, babe. I love it. I’m going to take it with me for the rest of the tour.”

Steve couldn’t help but beam. He patted himself on the back for a job well done. He had gotten rid of the fake ID that got him into the bar like Monty and Hop wanted and he had gotten Eddie to laugh. Clearly a win/win.

“This way I won’t be tempted to do anything that would require an illegal ID,” Steve explained with a grin. “And you get a memento from our first meeting.”

“It’s perfect, little Canary,” Eddie purred. “I love your sense of humor and think once Chrissy sees what you sent me, she won’t be as grudging as she has been about us.”

Us.

Steve’s stomach erupted into butterflies at that thought. Like they meant something. Like they were something together.

He had no allusions that Eddie actually meant it that way, but still it was sweet to hear.

They talked for awhile longer. About the music Steve bought and how much he enjoyed listening to the Corroded Coffin stuff on the way to the music store.

Then it was time for Eddie get ready for the concert. “Don’t forget to eat, little Canary. I know we’ve been talking an awful long time. I want you taking care of yourself.”

Steve huffed. “I just don’t want to get fat.”

There was silence on the line for a moment and he worried Eddie was mad. He started chewing on his thumb nail in worry.

“Baby,” Eddie’s voice was soft and warm and it melted Steve’s insides. “You like going running and you go swimming all the time. The only way you’d gain weight is if you built up a shit ton of muscle. A little softness isn’t bad, okay? And if you’re worried about the new clothes you just bought, they having tailoring services where they can let out an inch or so if needed. Be gentle on yourself, little Canary.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. “You’re too good to me,” he whispered, his voice cracking from the emotion.

“Not possible, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “I realize your parents are shitty and filled you up with all their shit opinions. It’s my job is to shovel all that out and fill it with as much good things as I can, okay?”

“Thank you, Eddie,” Steve said with a sniffle. He wiped his nose on his arm. What did he care, no one was there to see him and he planned on getting a shower while he waited for room service anyway. Consider it his first step of being gentler with himself.

“I’ve got to go, baby,” Eddie murmured. “But I’ll call tonight to sing you to sleep, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve agreed. They said their goodbyes and then hung up. Steve immediately called the front desk for dinner, ordering the biggest steak on the menu with mashed potatoes and creamed corn.

He hopped into the shower and just let the water wash over him. This really was the best part about living in the hotel. The constant hot water, the different jets that flowed water over his body, heated tiles. This really was the life.

It really was too bad it was temporary. He knew that once Eddie came back he would have to move, the dude was hardly going to pay for Steve to live in this swanky hotel for the rest of his life. But he was going to enjoy it while he could.

The steak was amazing as always, everything tasting like like it was dipped in butter. His mother would balk at the calories in the potatoes alone. But she wasn’t here now. And Steve was going to imagine Eddie flipping her off every time she became the voice inside his head telling him how worthless he was.

He spotted the truffle box and flipped it open. He only had two left so he called down to the front desk again.

“Marcella,” came the voice of the night desk lady. “How may I help you tonight?”

“Hi, Marcella,” Steve said brightly, “This is Steve Munson from room 2803 and I was wondering if you would be able to do me a favor. You see a good friend of mine sent me chocolates and I was wondering if they were from around here, or if he ordered them.”

“Of course, Mr. Munson,” she replied just as bright. “What is the name name of the company that sells them.”

Steve pursed his lips as he looked around the box for the answer. “Let’s see...yes! I’ve got it. Rene’s Chocolates.”

“One moment, please,” she hummed. A moment or two later, she came back. “It does look like they are a local Hawkins company. Would you like me to order you more or would like a brochure sent to you for you to order yourself?”

“The brochure for sure,” Steve said, “but can you also order six more of the raspberry truffles, too.”

Marcella laughed. “That good huh? Sure I’ll send up the brochure and order you more truffles. Is there anything else I can for for you tonight?”

“No, that’s everything, Marcella,” he replied. “Thank you!”

He hung up the phone and ran to jump on the bed. He flopped on it, spread eagle. He wasn’t under his parents roof anymore, he could whatever the hell he wanted. He got to his feet and started bouncing on the mattress. He flopped back onto the pillows with a giggle.

Steve jumped up and grabbed the box of truffles to finish them off while he was watching TV. He could watch whatever he wanted. So he settled for old Looney Tunes cartoons and the bottled soda from his mini fridge. Eddie had seen to the removal of the alcohol which had made Steve pout. He got not going out and buying booze, but to deny him so much as a mini vodka was cruel indeed.

Well not really, he had gone dry a few times. He didn’t need it to have fun, but with the clubs and bars closed to him, there really wasn’t anywhere he could go or do that wasn’t hanging out with a bunch of asshole teenagers.

Fuck.

He was actually lonely. He knew that he couldn’t call Eddie right now, because he was in the middle of a concert. No doubt with thousands of fans throwing themselves at his feet.

So he did what every self-respecting teenager with cable and a free hand does in that scenario he turned on porn.

He knew he wasn’t going to find gay porn. He wasn’t stupid. This was still Reagan’s America even if he wasn’t in office anymore. Bush was just as bad. But if he could find a blow job video then he could at least block out the chick.

With much frustration he only barely managed to find on where the girl wasn’t bouncing her tits while fucking herself on the dude’s cock. But he settled in to watch his crappy porn.

The dude was jacked and oiled to hell but Steve bit his lip as the dude on screen plowed into the actress. He was calling her all sorts of names and while that was usually a turn off for Steve, he allowed himself the fantasy of him saying those horrible things to Tommy as they had hate sex.

When he was done and he had come after a very valiant effort on his part. He realized he hadn’t thought about his ex boyfriend in days. Everyone else he’d called and reassured, but not Tommy. He assumed that Tommy had heard the news that he had been kicked out from their other ‘friends’.

Steve wondered if Tommy had even thought about him at any point since Mr. Harrington came home and found them fucking on the leather sofa. He knew he could just call him or even show up at his house, but he didn’t really care.

He cleaned up after himself and went to go get another shower just get off the all the greasy, uneasy feeling from his jerk session.

He got ready for bed, but stopped when it came to putting on the pajamas. He licked his lips slowly for a moment and then put the pajamas back in the drawers. Steve slid under the sheets in just his underwear, allowing the silky softness of the satin sheets caress his skin.

He didn’t even know what time it was, only that he was tired. He had had such an emotional day. High highs and low lows. He just needed to sleep. To rest. To take care of himself. Just like Eddie wanted.

~

Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch12

WARNING: Character harm, blood, hospitals, ranch hands being protective, hurt, comfort, trust building and fluff.

Jake didn’t even pack a bag as he booked a flight to Austin and a rental car for when he landed. Bradley even volunteered to take him to the airport. “When you get there tell her we miss her here, and you better apologize on your knees because she won’t accept anything less”, Bradley said. “I will do anything and everything to get her back”, Jake replied. Bradley watched as Jake fidgeted in the passenger seat and he decided to speed a little to get him to the airport.

Once Jake made it into the airport he went through security and ran to the gate only to realize he had to wait thirty more minutes before he could board the plane. He tried your cell phone several times but it would ring before rolling to voicemail. He begged and pleaded for you to give him another chance that he would do anything for you. Even admitting he would go AWOL from the Navy if he had to.

They announced boarding and to Jake it felt like the longest boarding he had ever sat through. You on the other hand were helping Bull and the other ranch hands brand and castrate the young calves. “Nothing like being outdoors and working like this huh”, he said. “I wouldn’t mind having a ranch like this one day”, you replied. Bull noticed how happy you were and he knew that even though you loved Jake you would be okay. 

It was late afternoon by the time you got done and the guys were setting up to cook some dinner. “I’m gonna walk Rebel down to the creek”, you told Bull. “Don’t be gone too long once these guys get the food done they don’t hesitate to eat it all”, Bull jokes. You nodded and walked the mile to let Rebel cool off and get a drink. While there you noticed someone walking down the creek. You figured it was one of the guys coming back from getting cleaned up in the creek as you relaxed.

Jake had just made it to his sisters front door where he knocked incessantly. Evelynn opened the door with a frown on her face and a glare in her eye. “What do you want?”, she asked. “I need to talk to (Y/N)”, Jake explained. “And you think she came here? Even if she was here, why would I tell my jackass of a brother where she was?”, she scolded. “I know she’s here and I have to get her back, Ev. Ever since breaking up with her all I see when I close my eyes is her. I hear her in my dreams and I messed up. I’ll get down on my knees for her. I know now that the photo was all a trick and I should have let her explain”, Jake rushed.

Evelynn had never seen her brother so distraught, not even when he found the girl he was planning on marrying was cheating on him. “She isn’t here right now, but she’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Until then you better think about what you’re going to say to her”, Evelynn said. Jake was at a loss so he walked out to the barn where he found your cot with your duffle bag. He noticed a picture poking out of the bag and when he pulled it out he noticed it was a picture of him. 

It was an old photo of when he had just joined the Navy, and he knew that Evelynn had given it to you. It was nice to know you still somewhat cared about him. You were taken by surprise when the person that had been walking stopped beside you. “Hey (Y/N) long time, but I told you that I was going to take you back home”, the person said. You knew that voice right away and when you looked up there stood Jackson pointing a gun at you. “Look I don’t want any trouble”, you said. “Well I just wanted you to come home and now I have to resort to making you come home”, he says grabbing your arm. 

You automatically let Rebel go and slapped him to get him to run. To your relief he started heading back to the camp. Bull was helping put more wood on the fire when Rebel came running into the camp. When Bull grabbed a hold of him his eyes were wide and seemed panicked. He knew something was wrong, Rebel wouldn’t have left you otherwise. He told the boys to mount up as he was the first to saddle up and ride off. 

Jackson was dragging you along the creek when you could hear a horse approaching. Before you could distinguish whose horse or who was coming you heard a cry and before you understood you hit the ground hard. When you were able to find your feet Bull had leapt from his horse and tackled Jackson to the ground. They were scrapping and Bull was winning until Jackson pistol whipped him. Jackson got up pointing the gun at him when you leapt into action. 

You had just hit Jackson when the gun went off the first time. You fell on top of him as you both scrapped knowing now that this was life or death. You could hear the rest of the ranch hands on their horses approaching as you continued. You reached for the gun in Jackson’s hand when it went off and you felt the burning in your abdomen. Jackson pushed you off of him and ran, but one of the ranch hands lassoed his foot bringing him down hard as the gun went flying out of his hands.

Bull was by your side in a second as you could hear Jackson yelling for the guys to unhand him. “You're hurt”, you told Bull. He had some blood coming down from his gray hair. “Hun you’re worse than I am. Someone give me their shirt and ride hard and as fast as you can for the house to get help. They might have to call in the airlift!”, Bull bellowed. A shirt was handed to him when you looked down to see the blood soaking your shirt. “This is gonna hurt hun, but I got ya’. Hold on”, Bull soothed. He used the shirt to put pressure on the wound as you cried out and grabbed his arm. 

“Boss, what do you want us to do with him?”, one of the ranch hands asked. “Rough ‘im up”, Bull growled. That’s all they needed to hear as Jackson started screaming for you to help him. Jake was talking with Colton when one of the youngest ranch hands came riding in like his ass was on fire. “There’s been an accident (Y/N)’s been shot and Bull said she might need an airlift to the hospital”, the young man rushed. Jake felt his blood go ice cold as the ranch hand told them what field they were in.

Colton called for emergency services and explained as he handed Jake his truck keys. “They are sending emergency services”, Colton relayed. He told Jake where to go and when the ranch hands came into view he saw you laying on the ground. He barely put the truck in park as he ran to you. “(Y/N) darlin’ I’m so sorry”, Jake said as he kneeled beside you. Somebody had put their saddle under your head to keep you somewhat comfortable. 

“Jake what are you doin’ here?”, you asked. “I’m here because I messed up. I was coming to beg you to take me back. I know now that I should have listened to you when you tried to explain about the photo. I’m a jackass and I love you”, he tells you. The whole time he is stroking your hair and crying. He worries as you start looking tired and too pale. “I love you too. I never stopped loving you even after everything that happened”, you sigh. He sits with you as you start to feel weaker and weaker.

“Jake”, you whisper. “Yeah darlin’ “, he replies. “I feel cold and tired”, you admit. “You gotta hold on darlin’ the ambulance is on its way. You have to hold on for me. I can’t live without you please hold on”, he panics. Bull is on your other side as you glance at him and notice even he is crying. The ambulance finally arrives as they get out to assess you. Jake insists on riding with you in the ambulance as they load you up. 

“Jake”, you whimper. “I’m right here darlin’ I’m not goin’ anywhere”, he tells you. “Jake I’m scared”, you say right before you slip into unconsciousness. Jake loses it at that moment as sobs take hold of him. The EMT tries to assure him that your pulse is strong as he checks the blood bag he had hung up. Jake is overwhelmed at this point and everything is a blur as he walks into the ER and nurses have to hold him back as you're rushed to surgery.

Bull and the others wait for the police to show up and when they do Jackson is in need of a hospital as well, but once the officers hear what happened they insist on taking everyones statement on what happened. When they find that he has a restraining order they automatically read him his rights and take him into custody. Colton, Evelynn and Bull show up at the hospital where Jake is sitting in the waiting room pacing.

“Jake I’m sure she is gonna be fine son”, Bull tells him. Evelynn tries to get him to sit down as Colton tries to get him to talk. Hours go by when a doctor comes to the waiting room to find them. “How is she please tell me she is going to be okay I can’t lose her”, Jake pleads. “She is going to be just fine. The bullet was removed and internal bleeding dealt with. She is still asleep but I can allow at least one family member back to see her”, the doctor announces. “I’m her husband”, Jake blurts. 

The doctor raises a brow, but walks him back to the room you’re in. He pulls a chair up to your bedside and pulls your hand into his. He doesn’t know how long he sits there just watching to make sure you’re still breathing, but eventually he falls asleep. When you open your eyes you notice that you're in a hospital room and that your abdomen is painful remembering being shot. Then you look to your right to see Jake sitting in a chair slumped on your bed fast asleep. You also notice that your hand is in his and you can’t help but smile. 

A nurse comes in to check on you and make sure that the morphine drip is doing okay. “Your husband was so worried about you. Paced in the waiting room the whole time you were in surgery and hasn’t left your side since he came in here”, she says. “That sounds like him”, you croak. “Here honey, let's get you some water. Ya’ sound parched”, she tells you. The nurse pours you some water and hands it to you making sure you have it before letting go. You drink enough to wet your dry throat as she sets it back on the small rolling tray. “I’m going to come back in a little while to check on you”, she tells you.

After she leaves you squeeze Jake’s hand and call to him softly. He stirs and wakes immediately looking up to lock eyes with you. Tears fill his eyes as he lets out a relieved sigh, “I thought I was gonna’ lose you”. “Oh, well I couldn’t leave my husband”, you tease. He smiled and got up to kiss you. You reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Here I am crying while you're comforting me when it should be the other way around”, he says. “I’m fine you look like a wreck. How did you know where I was?”, you ask.

“Well Penny after hearing me confess that I would beg on my knees to get you back told me where you were”, he says. “Well I’m glad she told you and for the record I will wait for you to beg on your knees”, you say. “I get it if you want some space”, he says. “I think we have spent enough time apart”, you reply. “I hope you can forgive me”, he says. “It might take a while, but I’m sure I can in time”, you tell him.

“I can live with that. Oh Rooster wanted me to tell you that they all miss you”, Jake says. “I should probably call them and let them know what happened”, you yawn. “Don’t worry about that now darlin’. Right now you need to rest up”, he tells you. You both sit and talk as Jake tells you how he found out that the picture was set up, and you tell him about working on the ranch. He listens intently as you talk until you start yawning. 

“Get some rest, I'll be here when you wake up”, he tells you. You fall asleep quickly as he watches you for a while before catching some more sleep himself. The next day Evelynn came up to visit and bring Jake some clothes since he came without any. The room you were staying in had a shower, but Jake would only get in long enough to wash his body and hair. Your stay in the hospital was a week to make sure you were healing properly. 

When it came to leaving the hospital you swore Jake was worse than a mother hen with new chicks. He helped you into the truck that Evelynn and Colton had lent to him. Then he drove ten miles per hour under the speed limit. “Jake honey you can drive the speed limit. The doctor discharged me and said as long as I don’t lift anything until the sutures come out I’ll be alright”, you protest. “Absolutely not, these roads are bumpy and I will not risk hurting you”, he replied. You roll your eyes as he continues to be passed by angry drivers. 

When you finally make it to the ranch you tear up when you see that Colton, Evelynn, Annabelle, Georgia, Bull and the rest of the ranch hands are there to welcome you back. Bull gives you a hug much to Jake’s worry as he rants about being careful. “He’s worse than my wife God rest ‘er soul. She used to fuss over the smallest things”, Bull laughed. You laughed along until pain caused you to stop and slightly double over. “See this is why you should rest”, Jake said. 

“I’ll be fine”, you tell him. He continues to watch you to make sure you aren’t over exerting yourself. After everyone welcomes you back Evelynn goes to cook dinner as you offered to help. “Now I hate to be like my brother, but I feel you should sit down and relax. I do have a job that requires sitting down”, Evelynn says. You follow her to the kitchen where she has potatoes that need peeling. Jake had followed you both in as you felt like you were suffocating. “Honey I think I can sit and peel potatoes without a problem”, you told Jake. 

Annabelle came into the kitchen being careful not to hurt you as she hugged you. “I’m happy that you’re okay”, she says. Georgia comes toddling in and climbs right into your lap as Jake tenses. “Wuv you aunt (Y/N)” Georgia said. That brought tears to your eyes as you hugged her then asked her if she wanted to help peel the potatoes. She excitedly clapped her hands as Evelynn handed you the potato peeler. 

Jake finally relented and walked out with Annabelle to find something to do as she pulled at his hand. “I swear he has done nothing but hover since I got shot”, you say. “Pray you don’t get pregnant anytime soon”, Evelynn laughs. “Oh I could only imagine how that would go”, you snort. “I know my brother is a jackass, but he does have a heart of gold”, she replies. “I still love him, but I can’t forgive him just yet”, you whispered. “I understand me and Colton had a moment like that. It took some time, but we overcame it eventually. Now we can laugh about it”, Evelynn confides.

You smiled at that then giggled a little when Georgia got impatient waiting for you to help her with the next potato. Once dinner was done Jake made your plate bringing it to the table for you. You leaned over and kissed his cheek thanking him for being there for you. He seemed to be more relaxed now than he had been all week. “We need to head back to San Diego, but I don’t know if you can handle the drive”, Jake announced. 

“I’m fit for travel besides you can drive my truck this time. Now I’ll admit it isn’t as fancy as yours”, you reply. The next couple of days Bull helps you pack up your gear, and you start to cry. “What’s wrong hun?”, Bull questions. “You’re the closest thing I have had to a father since I lost mine and I hate goodbyes”, you cry. “Oh hun you’re gonna’ be just fine and if ya’ ever need anything I’m gonna’ be right here on this ranch”, he sniffles. “I thought old cowboys don’t cry”, you laugh through your tears. 

He laughs along with you as Jake comes to make sure you’re ready to head back to San Diego. You had already gotten a doctor appointment set up for a check up back in San Diego so you were ready. After hugging everybody and saying goodbye you and Jake hit the road. You received a phone call from the police asking when you could give a statement. You explained that you were going to be staying in San Diego and the officer took down your information so they could come to you.

“I’m probably going to have to testify at the trial”, you say. “I’ll come with you as long as I’m not on deployment and I guarantee that Bull will go with you if I can’t”, Jake replies. The rest of the ride is calm other than the frequent stops that Jake was taking. He told you it was to get snacks or bathroom breaks, but you know that he is trying to make sure you are okay. Jake eventually books a hotel since he wanted to make sure you got the rest you needed.

When you arrive at the hotel you call Bradley to let him know what has been happening while Jake goes out to get food. When you tell him about what had happened he loses his mind. He continues to ask if you’re okay and starts to sound like Jake. The only way you get off the phone with him is telling him you need rest as directed by your doctor. When Jake comes back with food you let him know about telling Bradley.

“Great I bet he is going to hate me even more now”, Jake says. “Honestly I told him that you're a helicopter boyfriend and he agreed that you should be right now”, you laugh. Jake just stares at you as you open your bag of food until you notice him staring. “What?”, you ask. “You called me your boyfriend”, he says. “Well the way I see it I never broke up with you”, you smile. In one swift moment Jake is sitting beside you pulling you in to kiss you. 

“I love you so much. I made the dumbest mistake of my life when I did what I did”, Jake rambles. “I love you too, but you're taking the couch tonight”, you tell him. You hadn’t let him sleep in bed with you as a sort of punishment and he had obliged without protest. You have had some time to heal, but you want to see if he is serious about you. After staying in the hospital and how he has been by you since then it wasn’t going to take long to convince you he was all in. 

That night he slept on the couch as you took time to think about the last couple of months. Even with him being on a couch, but in the same room brings you comfort. The next morning when you wake up Jake is sitting at the small table with breakfast. “Why didn’t you wake me?”, you ask. “You need rest and you looked peaceful”, he tells you. You smile as you get up and sit beside him to eat. Jake waited for you to finish up then went to the front to check out once he got you to the truck. 

While sitting in the truck you could see Jake peeking through the doors checking on you. You smile when he comes out looking absolutely gorgeous in his jeans and t-shirt. When he gets in and starts driving you scoot to the middle and buckle up. It feels like forever, but eventually you both make it to the apartments. You are both tired and before you know it arms wrapped around you and you could smell Bradley’s cologne. 

“Bradley”, you laugh. He pulls away and asks how you feel, to which you respond. Jake waits patiently as you both catch up. When there is a lull in conversation Jake makes his move. “I know you probably haven’t thought about it, but where are you wanting to stay?”, Jake asks. Bradley looks to you waiting for your answer before Bradley takes you aside. “(Y/N), I know that what he did was wrong, but he has been a mess around here without you”, Bradley confides. You look back to Jake as he watches the ocean while you talk with Bradley. 

“You wouldn’t be upset if I go back to staying with him?”, you ask. “It’s your decision”, he tells you. You ponder it for a moment then smile as you realize that even though he had hurt you, you had missed everything about Jake. “Even though he hurt me I still love him. He has some trust building to do, but he is making up for it. I mean he never left my side at the hospital”, you say. Bradley respects your decision as you hug him and head back over to Jake. “Bring me home cowboy”, you grin. Jake smiles and it feels as though the last couple days fade away.

Once inside Jake helps you get ready for bed like he has for the last couple of days. Everything smells like him and your tension just melts away. He goes to walk back towards the living room when you call out to him, “Where are you goin?”. “The couch I figured you would want your space”, he replies. “Not tonight Jake I want you here with me tonight”, you reply. He hesitates at first until you pat the other side of the bed. The apartment is quiet as you both settle in to sleep.

[archerarchives]

New Girl Blues - 2

Sterling Archer x Fem Reader

((Part 1))

The new hire seems to have earned her place, proving her endurance and loyalty to the agency. She lives another day to get to know her team a little better, one blue-eyed man in particular.

TWs: Sedation, medical talk, medical violence, gun violence, Malory is problematic.

When you finally come out of your drug-induced coma, you're alone in a hospital room. You look over at your side table and there sits a small flower arrangement. The tiny card reads "Danger zone. -A" You narrow your eyes at it, confused. You don't know what it means, but you know they're from Archer. You smile, but it's quickly wiped off your face when you realize how beaten you are. Grinning hurts.

~~~Meanwhile at ISIS

"Where the hell is Sterling?" Malory yells to the entire upper floor.

"I haven't heard from him for a few days," Lana casually inserts, still keeping her distance from the situation.

"He's probably off getting black-out drunk on an island because he got Y/N killed." Ray shrugs, much to Cyril's discomfort.

"He only knew her for a day, could he really be that bent out of shape?" Malory raises a brow. "This is just another excuse to-"

"You were saying?" Archer seems to appear on cue, standing leisurely in the doorway of the elevator as he steps out.

"Where on Earth have you been? Just days of that god damned voicemail of yours!" Archer's mother stares daggers through him.

"I went to get Y/N," he states it like it's obvious. "I said that."

"You said you weren't going!" She rolls her eyes as far back as they can go. "Lana!"

"Nope," the tall, beautiful agent exits the room, extending the 'o' vowel of her one-word sentence.

"Mother," Archer speaks with a chuckle. "You couldn't possibly have believed me." He breaks into a laugh. "That's like, textbook me." He's still laughing as his mother's glare carves holes into his head.

"So," Malory straightens her stance. "Where is Agent Y/L/N?"

"The hospital, duh?" He sets his drink down.

"How is she?" Cyril asks, butting into the conversation.

"Not... Great." Archer shifts uncomfortably.

"Not great as in she's not gonna make it, or...?" Malory takes an "innocent" sip from her glass.

"Malory!" Lana exclaims.

"What? If she's going to live, we need her brought here before she's doped up on morphine, telling every nurse in the east wing where she's been for three days!"

"How are we supposed to get her out?" Archer wants to laugh at the ridiculous notion.

"That's the beauty of defying my orders, Sterling. You figure it out!" Malory slams her door, powerfully punctuating her sentence.

"So, any ideas?" Archer turns to the gang.

"Are we sure Krieger is the best... 'Doctor' for her if she's so beat up?" Cyril shrugs at the peculiar doctor's offended expression.

"Well, mother's right. It's better than letting her compromise the agency... More than I already have and do."

"And something about that weapon trafficking ring tells me they might go looking for an infiltrating witness staying in an unguarded, public hospital." Ray raises a valid point that no one seems to have considered yet. "What would you do without me?"

"Lana," Archer turns to his co-worker turned ex.

"No! Stop dragging me into-"

"Please, you owe me!"

"No, Archer, I don't owe you. Stop saying that." She facepalms. "Look, let's go get her out of there, but it's up to you to get her back here. I'm not risking my life for someone I've only known for less than a day!" She storms off to ready herself for the "mission."

"What about you two?" Sterling faces Ray and Cyril who sit at two unoccupied desks. They glance at each other and then back to him.

"I'm only coming because I like Y/N." Ray stands. "She's the most tolerable out of all of you so far."

"I... I don't know." Cyril rubs the back of his neck.

"Figures. Cyril's half a man, what else is new?" Archer taunts.

"Fine! I'll go. I'm not half a man," he huffs, standing to join the group. Each Agent pitches an idea of how to get you out of the hospital, each plan is shot down immediately by Archer.

"Oh, my God. Let's just get in there, get some scrubs, and wheel her out."

"Seriously? Like a fucking Weekend at Bernie's? They're not gonna let her leave unconscious." Lana rubs her temples, assuming you're in some sort of coma-like state.

"What if she's on life support or something?" Cyril asks.

"Well..." Lana doesn't want to have to say it, but the answer is that they'll have to pull your plug. Archer shakes the idea from his head.

"Good enough. Let's go." He leads the team out of the break room, storming ahead of them with a confident purpose.

"I don't like it when he's serious," Cyril whispers to Ray.

"Me neither. He hasn't been this useful since... Well, ever."

"Shut it, Elton Yawn," Archer snaps.

"Oh, because I'm gay and what? Boring?" Ray crosses his arms.

"Yeah, exactly that, actually." He chuckles at his own joke. Endlessly entertained by his own wit.

At the hospital, Ray acquires two doctors' coats and a few sets of nurse's scrubs. Archer returns to the group with various name tags and stethoscopes. You're dressed as a nurse, taking the set that just happens to be your size. Archer is a doctor, hanging the stethoscope around his neck. Ray slips into a nurse's outfit, self-proclaiming it'd be more appropriate should anyone ask him anything too medically specific, as he's watching the door.

"Oh, no you don't." Lana extends a finger to Cyril who's halfway into the doctor's coat. "Hand it over."

"What? Why?" The accountant turned agent asks, finishing slipping the jacket on.

"Because we're not doing the two lady nurses and a gay routine. It's not even your size." She points to the deflated shoulders.

"A gay?" Ray asks aloud, clutching invisible pearls.

"Honestly, Cyril. Lana's a lot broader than you are." Archer shrugs, earning a hateful glare from Lana. She snatches the jacket from him and slips it on, filling it out nicely.

"Ya' know..." She narrows her eyes. Lana struts inside with a confident demeanor, blending right in. Cyril lingers near the nurse's station, with his shoulders raised in an exaggerated, insecure posture.

It doesn't take long for Lana to acquire a wheelchair. She arrives at your room and Archer lifts you and all the necessary bags of fluids and medications into a jumbled heap on the chair. You look at them with a disappointed expression, too tired and sore to give input. "Archer," Lana gives a sympathetic look. "They're not gonna let us walk through here like that."

"I don't know where all these tubes go and, honestly? I'm scared to find out." The two agents begin untangling your equipment. You do what you can to help, but your body feels heavy in this early stage of the healing process. That is, until a burst of adrenaline courses through you.

"Hey, wait. What's happening?" You repeat yourself over and over until one of them answers. They glance at each other and then back to you.

"We're taking you back to ISIS. You're not safe here." Lana gives a half-comforting effort.

"Yeah, like ISIS is such a safe haven- ouch!" Lana punches Archer's arm with brute force.

~~~Back at ISIS

"Ouch! What the hell?" The resident doctor, Algernop Krieger, rubs the newly sore spot on his head where Malory has just swatted a rolled-up fashion magazine.

"This isn't another cadaver for your iniquitous experiments! You touch her with one of those godforsaken machines, and I'll have you peeled!" The silver-haired woman stands firm.

"Peeled?" Krieger squeaks in terrified confusion.

"What's the big freaking deal? You were just about to let her get tortured to death on Gun Island anyways," Cheryl interrupts, propping her feet up on a desk. Malory swats her feet away with the magazine.

"There are some things we can't fiscally risk at this agency. We can't afford to lose every agent we have. We can, however, lose one new recruit who got taken prisoner on her first mission."

"But it was Archer's fault wasn't it?" Pam appears, eating a bear claw. "Didn't he say that?" Malory stares fire through her. "... Inappropriate."

"Does nobody do their job? Or am I paying you all for binge-eating, glue-sniffing, Sieg Heiling social hour?" Malory slaps the magazine against the door frame as she exits. Cheryl gasps, staring with wide eyes at Krieger.

"So you are a Nazi?" She asks. He rolls his eyes and sighs.

~~~Back at The Hospital

"What? No!" You protest climbing into the back of the poorly cleaned cargo van meant to carry a gurney, but they realized when they arrived that they didn't have a gurney.

"Look, time isn't really a thing we have a lot of right now. Get in the van and as soon as we get back-" Lana's bargain gets cut short.

"We'll double your morphine." Archer chuckles. That's a deal. Almost instantly you climb into the back of the van.

The gang finally gets you agonizingly situated with your bags and IVs, speeding through traffic to get you somewhere stable. The reckless driving causes your stomach to turn, and you squeeze your eyes shut in hopes that it'll still the swirling in your eyes.

Suddenly, your eyes jolt open to the unmistakable boom of gunfire. The van is being shot at. You look at Cyril who has already hit the floor, covering his head. "Oh, you guys weren't kidding." You groan as you pry yourself up off the van floor. Scrambling, you reach under the seat and feel around for any stashed weapon in a van owned by a spy agency. You sigh with relief when your fingers graze the carrying box of a small Ruger .380.

Lana's shooting through the back window from the front seat, causing a few stray shards of glass to scrape you up, but you're indifferent to it. Ray's driving as fast as he can without flipping the entire vehicle and Archer is hanging out the side door, shooting and making a mental note of the faces inside the cars in pursuit. Cyril is... Well, he's still on the floor. You finally steady yourself to rise and you sling open the back doors. A bit of your medical equipment falls out, ripping a tube or two from your arms. You grit your teeth and start shooting as small streams of blood flow down your arms from the IV ports.

With razor-sharp focus, you successfully shoot the driver in the head and kill him instantly. His car quickly veers to the left, crashing devastatingly into a power post. One chasing vehicle remains. It's a man on a motorcycle. His bike zips around the van and tauntingly loops back into your field of vision. You aim at him and shoot a few times, only to miss as your adrenaline begins to slow, and you really notice the lack of painkillers in your veins.

The man on the motorcycle fires in your direction and a bullet grazes your already weakened arm. A gash is left in the wake of the bullet. You throw the gun down and slap a hand over the fresh wound, releasing a cry of frustration more than pain at this point. As if they took your scream as a cue, Lana and Archer speak at the same time.

"Cyril!" They bark and he snaps back into reality. For the most part. Without much more direction, he grabs the gun you've tossed and starts shooting.

"Suppressing fire!" He wails, aiming at nothing. To everyone's genuine surprise, he gets the perpetrator right in the chest. The biker's grip on the steering begins to waver, and he wrecks like a crumpled piece of paper due to how fast he is going. The man is long gone, but Cyril empties the magazine before opening his eyes again. "Did I... Did I get him?"

"Yes!" You yell, slinging yourself out of the opening to grab the door. The still-shaking hero of the moment does the same, helping you get the rear doors secured so you can tend to the ever-growing collection of wounds you're amassing. "God, I didn't fill out my insurance paperwork yet."

Inside the ISIS medical bay, Krieger, under intense supervision, has you right as rain in just a few hours. Once you're stitched up and filled to the brim with morphine, you sleep off the afternoon. Hours upon hours go by and you're sound asleep the entire time.

"It makes no sense that she's still alive. Even if she was meant to bait the team back to the island, she should've been long gone by the time you actually got there." Krieger says, fidgeting with some mechanical nonsense lying around the room.

"Yeah... Three days is," Archer hesitates.

"A really long time to be tortured and drugged on an island?" The doctor finishes his sentence and Archer narrows his eyes at him.

"Yeah, a really long time." The blue-eyed spy turns to leave, ignoring his own minor injuries. "Just keep an eye on her until I get back."

"Aren't you guys sort of at risk of being attacked after that car chase?"

"Yes," Archer huffs. "What about it?"

"Aren't you worried?" Krieger raises a brow, wondering if he should be taking precautions for an invasion.

"If I worried about a fraction of the stuff I should be worried about, I would never get anything done." He leaves to rest his aching body.

~~~Later, ISIS Medical Quarters

"And she didn't talk?" Malory looks down at your sleeping body with raised eyebrows.

"No, mother. She didn't. So we left her there for three days for no reason." Archer scowls.

"Oh, whatever. It's impossible to keep up with your fixations." She tosses her hands up. "Any other time you'd have suggested leaving someone behind before I ever had to say it!" She leaves the room, most likely looking for a drink. Archer knows that's true. He never sees it coming until it's there. It starts with a pretty face and he can't control where it goes from there. Or who this feeling comes out for.

When you finally awaken, the room is dark and empty. It's late at night, peeking into the dark morning. The peace and quiet remind you of how badly you missed it. You'd been beaten, borderline tortured, starved, and sleep-deprived. Yet your lips were sealed. A sense of pride washes over you as you blink in your surroundings. Where am I? You think to yourself.

"Oh, hey. You're awake." Archer enters your medical room and turns on one set of lights.

"I am awake. And, a little blind now." You squint under the sudden brightness. You raise a hand to block the light, but also so you can get a better look at him. You hardly realize you're smiling until it stings the split on your lip.

"I uh, went back for these." He holds up an absolutely wrecked version of the very flowers he left in your hospital room. Tiny card and all.

"Oh, thank God. I was worried about those."

"Really?" He furrows his brows.

"No." You flatten your expression. "What day is it?" Finally, the awkward silence is broken.

"It's the 6th." Archer takes a slouching seat in the nearest chair.

"Oh, wow." A silence falls over the two of you. "Took a while to get back, huh?" You ask, mostly indifferent. Several things could've held the team up.

"That wasn't- I didn't-" he fumbles with his words, reaching dependently for his flask.

"Shut up," you laugh, wincing as you do. "Name of the game." You swallow the lump in your throat that's begging to ask if you were supposed to be rescued at all.

"How many times did you get shot? Like in total?" He attempts to change the subject.

"Only twice. You and that guy on the bike." You rub your arm. "Same fucking arm too." You feel a devious smile spread across your face. "Thank God Cyril was there."

"What? Seriously?" His eyes widen in disbelief. "I chartered a plane back to a compound we had just ransacked-"

"Jesus Christ, I was kidding!" Your declaration silences his whining. "Thank you for coming back for me at all, Archer."

In the following weeks, he's by your side daily, helping you around your apartment or sending his valet to pick up your prescriptions. The whole office is all but disgusted at this strange behavior. After a while, your strength is back up and you're ready to be back in the field.

~~~Your First Day Back

"Thank you for letting me keep all my limbs, doctor." You shake Krieger's hand.

"Wait, was that an option?"

"Whatever you're talking about, shut up." Archer bursts into the conversation. "Y/N," he extends his arm out to you, eyes shining like a smitten puppy. You laugh, and link your arm with his. He guides you to his office, pouring you both a glass of whiskey regardless of the early hour of the day.

"What? No thank you, It's 9 AM." You laugh. "And I'm a vodka woman."

"Vodka at 9 AM?"

"No, nothing alcoholic at 9 AM." You laugh with a sigh.

"Y/N, I feel like I need to apologize, you know, for," he seems to search hard for the words. You roll your eyes, dumbfounded by his arrogance.

"For almost getting me killed? For being the reason my face still looks like I do roller derby?" You huff, crossing your arms. Sterling takes a comforting sip of his drink.

"Well, to be fair, I'm also the only reason you made it back," he shrugs smugly.

"Only? Was no one else coming back for me out there? Is that why it took you so long?" You feel a bolt of unchecked anger strike through your body, quickening the pulse in your chest. "I mean I guess I always knew deep down, but I didn't want to believe it."

"Wait, Y/N," his eyes widen. It becomes apparent he's said the wrong thing.

"Was it just you?" You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose with a macabre chuckle. How mad can you be in an industry like this? His shoulders relax at the sound of your laughter.

"No, well, yes- sort of. Ray was pretty enthusiastic about it."

"Love him," you whisper as you place a hand on your heart.

"Well I mean, come on. Don't be angry at me for saving you." He shrugs.

"Unbelievable," you toss your hands up.

"You didn't even know what the plan was if you were on life support-"

"Oh my God, please stop digging." You're only half serious by now.

"The rescue itself was me, so... You're welcome." He smirks, finishing his glass. You roll your eyes, internally processing how little you must matter to the agency at this stage of your career here.

"Well, thank you Agent Archer," you take the glass he poured you. "For cleaning up your own mess." You down the shallow drink in one graceful gulp.

"World's greatest agent," he proclaims, pouring himself another glass. "Now, the matter of repayment..." He swirls his newly poured drink.

"Repayment? No, I think your coming back for me just about covers it. Albeit three days later." You raise an eyebrow, flipping the script and reminding him not to push his luck.

"Sure, we'll call it your repayment." He leans back in his seat. "My house. Dinner."

"I thought you'd never ask."

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

Author's Notes:

I hope the "finishing sentences with different scenes" trope is translating well on here. If not I'm gonna kill myself. ❤️ Thanks for reading!

Also!!! Next chapter will mostly likely contain smut, so if that's not your wave, keep an eye out for my next stories outside of this series!

((Part 3 coming soon!!!))

[http-paprika]

BLUE / simon riley

my very, very late submission for @glitterypirateduck simon "ghost" riley challenge. this was heavily inspired by the new billie eilish song of the same title because I thought it fit him so well. i used the prompts "face touching", "the heat goes out and it's freezing", and "a confession is made"

simon ghost riley x female reader / 1106 words / contains angst, alcohol, and smoking

WITH every patron that hurried into the bar, cold and snow blew in with them—leaving those even in the darkest corners of the bar chilled and draining down more liquor. The drink spilled through her veins, warm and potent as she waited another hour, shrunk away in the shadows with her cost pulled tight. Simon wasn't coming, she knew better than to keep waiting for him. 

 Finishing her glass of whiskey, she lets it sting her throat the same way the tears in her eyes did. With remorse, she sets the glass down and rises from her chair. Through the crowded bar of happy couples and friends, someone's celebrating a birthday, another girl is sobbing in the corner with her friends trying their best to comfort her. The whole room pulses with life, feelings, love, and hate and she can't seem to find herself amongst the crush of emotions. Dull, apathetic, and removed as she slinks out of the door and into the blue moon night. 

 Winter still holds a fierce grip over Manchester, spilling white flurries in the air as she walks down the quiet streets with a cigarette to warm her from the cold. If he were there, they'd be sharing the smoke and she'd be warmed by the blushed haze that always befell her when their hands brushed exchanging the cigarette. 

 Her hand fumbles with her phone, the bright, blue light warning her of how late it was. But even with the early shift she had in the morning, she loiters along her route imagining he’ll be waiting by her flat like Simon would sometimes do. Giving her the delusion that he cared enough to come looking for her, even if he couldn't be bothered to grab drinks with her. 

 Despite all logic telling her not to bother with a call, she finds the number that she's left a hundred voicemails for. Sounding desperate and pathetic with every call as she tries to convince him into calling her back. 

 “Hi, Simon. It's me… again. I'm just calling to check in, I haven't heard from you in a week and I just want to make sure you're alright. Okay, I'm going to go, I'm at my flat. Call me, please.” The sound of the voicemail being replayed causes her to cringe, maybe he'd never hear it like he never hears the rest. Maybe he's got a new number, that was the type of thing someone as shifty as Simon would do. But she can't find reason in his sudden absence, no foreseen notice of a deployment or mission. No text to tell her he'd be unavailable. Nothing. 

 When she rounds the gate into her apartment complex, she can see in the low light of the second-floor walk, the lone figure waiting in front of her door even though he had the keys. Burly hands shoved into the worn pockets of his jacket with head tilted down as she climbed the stairs to join him. 

 She didn't need to see Simon’s face to know that he was thinking. Always thinking about the past he refused to tell her about. One that she could only dream up, trying to picture what had happened to turn him into the man he was. The man who she desperately tried to get over, but couldn't move on from. 

“I waited for you. It's the third Wednesday of the month, or did you just forget?” She asks, stubbing out the cigarette on the melt railing. The frame creaks as her fist tightens around it in frustration. “Simon?” 

 “Was busy with work, forgot to call.” He shrugs, pushing his hood back and shaking out his dark blond curls. A rough, wartorn face that she'd memorized like the back of her hand. It was so enticing to her, mesmerizing with his pale lashes and dark haunted eyes. The type of man that kept her safe at the bar and kept her up at night in stress. 

 “You're always busy.” She holds back a scoff, knowing arguing never got anywhere with Simon. He'd go silent with every accusation she'd throw, leaving her intimidated and guilty for yelling. Even if she knew he deserved it. 

 “It can't be helped. Times are tough.” Simon responds, his eyes trailing over her as she moves to unlock the flat. Fumbling with the lock like she did with the phone until his hand reached out and steadied her grasp. He leads her into the apartment like it was his own, with an empty place on the coat rack for his jacket, and a spot next to all of her shoes for his boots. An indent left throughout her home for whenever he'd find it in him to return.

 “Would you like a drink?” She asks, still feeling the need to play hostess as if he were a stranger visiting for the first time. At the edge of her seat waiting expectantly for a response and reaction. 

 “Sure.” He shrugs, pulling off the cloth mask as she shuffles into the small kitchen. Tiny enough that when he joins her there's tension as she tries not to bump into him. Pretending like she wasn't up the night before craving the warmth he gave, the firm touch of his hands, when her space heater died. 

 “I am sorry, love. I'll be there next time, I promise.” Simon apologizes, watching as avoids his presence like the plague. She chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing that she'd accept this apology like she'd done before. Knowing full well he never changed, and she’d never ask him to. 

 He reached out, sensing her indifference, and cupped her cheek in his calloused hands. That touch always turned her into mush, clay for him to mold to his will and whims. She knew it was pathetic how easily she swayed for him, knew that her friends always criticized her for being so weak-willed. But how could she possibly say no to him when he always came back, even if it was days late? Wasn’t she better off with him than trying to find someone else to love, wasn’t the heartache worth it? 

“You could do so much better than me, sweet girl. Sometimes I wish you would.” Simon confesses, his voice low and full of regrets. He turns his head down towards her, wrapping her close in his arms, taking the glass of water out of her hand, and setting it down. 

Her mouth opens to speak, but no words form when she realizes she’s just as guilty as him. She’d never change, he’d never change. Together, they’d stay unmoving, frozen in the longest, blue winter.

[l33bang24]

Healing Hearts (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Single Dad! Chan x Fem Reader

Summary: Y/N, desperate to leave her troubled past behind, decides to start fresh in a foreign country. Struggling to secure a job, she stumbles upon a babysitting opportunity offered by an elderly woman who lives nearby. Babysitting the daughter of a famous idol is the last thing she ever expected to be doing. What will she do when her past comes back to haunt her just as she begins to find peace?

⚠️CW⚠️: Self-hatred, depression, crying, dreams, angst, death of a minor character (lmk if I missed anything)

🏷: @manuosorioh @palindrome969 @real-life-dwaekii @nebugalaxy @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @catlove83 @ivydoesit23 @resi4skz @vinumque @ntlmundy @rose-w-00-d @rundontwalkshesaid @jennibahng @lailac13 @gn4bnahc @addies29 @greyyeti @joyofbebbanburg (Taglist open)

(All dividers are made by @saradika , all credit goes to her)

<Prev

Y/N’s POV

I look up at the towering building ahead of me, its glass façade reflecting the sunlight. Glancing at the paper in my hands, I mutter, "These are the coordinates Eun Ji gave me. I hope she shows up.” I find a nearby bench and settle down, trying to calm my racing thoughts. It's still early, but I needed the extra time after the unsettling nightmare I experienced.

This morning reminded me that no matter how far you run away from your past, it still follows you. I tried going back to sleep, but I was terrified of going back to that hellhole again. My eyes eventually closed right before my alarm clock went off. I rubbed the fatigue out of my eyes and focused on the world around me: cars going and people walking to their destinations.

I sat on the bench, my mind consumed with worry and anticipation, when a figure approached. A lady, slightly older than me, called out, "Y/N?" I looked up and nodded in response. "Hello, Y/N! I'm EunJi. We've been in touch via email regarding an apartment complex." I rose from the bench and greeted her warmly. "I apologize if you weren't able to reach me by phone. I haven't turned it back on just yet." That wasn't entirely true. I had turned it on briefly, only to turn it off again at the sight of missed calls and voicemails.

"It's perfectly fine! Would you be interested in stepping inside for a closer look?" I agreed, and we made our way to the front entrance. As we stepped inside, I noticed the interior was elegantly simple, featuring cream-colored walls and tiled flooring. Directly ahead was the front desk, flanked by elevators on either side and a couple of staircases. After a short wait, Eun Ji returned with the keys to the apartment. As we stepped into the elevator, she pressed the button for the 3rd floor.

As we approach the apartment door, I eagerly anticipate stepping inside. Upon entering, I absorb the details of the space. The apartment spans approximately 30 square meters, with the kitchen positioned to the left and the bathroom to the right from the entrance. Continuing past the kitchen, I encounter the combined bedroom and living area. The bed is on the opposite side of the wall from the kitchen, with the entertainment area conveniently located across from the bed. A storage area is thoughtfully positioned between the bathroom and the TV. Notably, there's a charming balcony straight ahead from the entrance, adding an inviting outdoor element to the living space.

I recognized immediately from the captivating pictures that this space exuded beauty. Still, the moment I set foot inside, seeing my favorite comforting colors in person, was a truly unforgettable experience. The color schemes artfully combined shades of black and gray, creating a sophisticated and inviting atmosphere. Unable to contain my delight, I couldn't help but smile and express to Eun Ji, "It's even more stunning in person than I could have ever imagined." Her response was a warm smile as she remarked, "Well, I'm thrilled to hear that."

Once Eun Ji and I reached an agreement on the cost and signed the contract, I handed over the deposit for the apartment. She assured me she was finalizing the details and promised to contact me as soon as possible to arrange my move-in. As I left the apartment building, a sense of contentment washed over me, marking a gradual but significant step forward in my life.

Bang Chan’s POV

I awakened suddenly, jolted out of another restless night plagued by the recurring dream that seemed impossible to shake. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, the red digits displayed 4 a.m. I let out a weary sigh and pushed the covers aside before heading to the bathroom. After splashing my face with cold water and drying it with a nearby towel, I stared at the reflection in the mirror, filled with discontent. My features seemed to taunt me - the emergence of fine lines, thinning hair, a prominent nose, and the dreaded dark circles under my eyes. I averted my gaze, unwilling to confront the image staring back at me.

Heading to the closet, I opened the door and scanned the neatly arranged rows of clothing. I reached for the stack of neatly folded gym clothes, feeling the soft fabric between my fingers as I selected the perfect outfit for my early morning workout. Anticipating a restless night ahead, I chose something comfortable and breathable. After carefully selecting the clothes, I closed the closet door and headed to the dresser to pick a fresh pair of socks. Once dressed, I grabbed my gym bag and began to neatly fold and pack my post-workout attire, placing the towels on top to ensure I had everything I needed for the morning. Heading into the kitchen, I opened the pantry and selected a couple of granola bars and an apple for quick, on-the-go snacks. Then, I went to the fridge to refill my stainless steel water bottle, ensuring I would stay hydrated throughout the day.

As I gathered everything I needed, I tiptoed down the hallway to check on Miryung in her room. Peeking inside, I noticed her peacefully asleep, which put my mind at ease. I knew I would return before she woke, so I didn't linger too long. With my bag slung over my shoulder and keys in hand, I stepped out of the front door, locking it behind me, ready to tackle the day ahead.

As I made my way to the gym, I quickly realized that it was conveniently close to my house, which made the drive there pleasantly short. Upon arriving, I was pleasantly surprised to find Changbin already there. I couldn't resist asking him, "What brings you here so early?" His response was a nonchalant shrug accompanied by a warm and friendly smile. "I could ask you the same thing, but then I'm reminded that you don't sleep," he quipped. I playfully rolled my eyes and headed to the locker room. I found a vacant locker and retrieved my lock, key, headphones, water bottle, and a granola bar. After stowing away my belongings, I headed back out to meet Changbin.

I began my workout by slowly easing into it with some stretching. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't strain any muscles today. Once I finished my stretches, I started a timer on my watch. I headed to the Chest Fly machine since I had focused on my legs during my last workout. Changbin joined me, and together, we found our rhythm as we moved from one machine to the next, spotting each other along the way.

The timer on my watch went off, and I stopped it. By the time I was done, my hair was clinging to my forehead, my shirt was soaked, and sweat dripped from places I didn't even know I could sweat. I made my way to the locker room, pulling out my fresh change of clothes and shower essentials, ready to clean up after an intense session.

Feeling refreshed after my shower, I checked the time to see that I finished on time, which was great timing. I grabbed my belongings and waved to Changbin as I left. The house was quiet when I unlocked the door, meaning I still had time before Miryung woke up. I threw my workout clothes and towels in the washer and turned it on. I moved to the fridge to make breakfast for Miryung and myself.

I open the fridge to see what I can make. I found a container of leftover rice and a pack of ground beef and decided to make Gyeran Bap with beef Bulgogi. I pulled out all the needed ingredients: an iron skillet and a saucepan. I place the saucepan on the stove and turn to low heat. I add the leftover rice and add three tablespoons of water. I break up the clumps and add some butter to it. Putting a lid on the pan, I place the skillet on the stove next and turn the dial to medium heat.

As I worked on cooking the meat, rice, and eggs, I carefully plated everything with a side of kimchi that Mrs. Kim had left for us. My little angel had already woken up and was perched on a stool at the countertop, her curious eyes following my every move in the kitchen. "Do you want milk or pineapple juice?" I asked, placing her meal in front of her. "Pineapple," she replied with a sweet smile. I couldn't help but smile back, thinking, "Just like her Daddy." As I turned to serve her, I saw her patiently waiting for me to say a blessing so she could start eating.

My heart swells with emotion as I sit beside her, preparing to say the blessing before our meal. As we both dive into the delicious food, there's a comfortable silence between us, filled with contentment. Once we've finished eating, I gather our dishes, and that's when she surprises me with unexpected praise. "Your cooking has improved, Daddy," she says. I'm taken aback, wondering whether to be pleased or insulted. Miryung then comes down from her stool and offers to help me with the dishes, her sweet gesture melting any uncertainty away. I smile at her and reply, "Of course, Pumpkin, let me grab a stool." I show her how to handle the smaller tasks like utensils and bowls while I take care of the skillet and saucepan.

We relocated to the living room and suddenly engaged in a spontaneous tickle fight. It all began with her playfully poking my sides, which led to me retaliating by tickling her, causing her to erupt into fits of joyful laughter. After a while, I relented, and Miryung then climbed onto my lap and nestled herself into the warmth of my chest. The kids and I have some vacation time before our comeback. I had already made plans for both of us; I just needed to tell her, but Miryung beat me to it. “I had a dream about Mommy last night.” I look down at her with a sad smile. “What did you dream about?”

She picks her head up from my chest to look at me. “She was waiting for me at the big tree on a hill. She told me how beautiful I am and that I look just like she did when she was younger. She also told me that I look like you too. She wished she could be with us, but God had a different plan for her.” I feel a stray tear run down my cheek. “She said she would want us to move on with our lives. We desire to be happy and know she's in a great place now.” I was fighting back tears, but a couple spilled through. Miryung looked down at her hands, and her body started shaking from her troubled sobs.

“Mommy held me, Daddy, and told me it would be alright that she loves me and you. She even sang me my favorite song.” She wraps her tiny arms around me, and I pull her to me tightly. “I miss her so much, Daddy. Why did she have to leave?” I closed my eyes and tried not to reminisce about the day's events. “I don't know, Pumpkin, but do you know what?” She pulls back to look at me with tear-stained cheeks. “She brought the most beautiful little girl into this world. She loved you so much. She sang to you daily and told many stories about her childhood. How she wanted to raise you, how she was raised. She had these crazy pregnancy cravings I had to fix for her. Your mom was a fighter; she fought until she couldn't anymore. But she is right; she's in a much better place and no longer in pain.”

I kiss her cheeks, smiling at her. “We’re not always given tomorrow; that's why we should always be thankful for today and never take anything for granted.” She smiles at me and kisses me on the cheek. “I love you, Daddy.” I kiss her forehead, “I love you too, Pumpkin. More than you'll ever know.”

We both lay there for a while before I remembered the good news. “Do you want to go see your grandparents?”

(Finally got a new chapter up! I decided to add Changbin since it was his birthday when I wrote it. So Happy Birthday, Changbin! I hope you all like it. LMK in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist. Thanks! ❤️)

[opalcicle]

If They Call Me a Slut, You Know it Might be Worth it for Once

Ch. 10 Car Fries

Left you sleeping, borrowed some clothes. 😘

I send Bizly the text and a selfie in one of his big t-shirts from the back of the Uber.

It was late afternoon by the time finally I made it out of Biz's place. I'd made myself up some leftover pasta, washed the dishes, and found something to wear. He was still sleeping, butt-naked and sprawled out in his bed when I figured it was time to go.

I start a warm bath and a coffee when I make it back to my apartment. Humming as I prepare for a relaxing day and letting my good mood carry me through the self care. My legs are stiff, and my whole body aches like a bitch, but damn do I feel great. The water in the tub soothes my muscles nicely.

It's late in the day when I finally have the wherewithal to check any messages.

Grizzly

Dude you sooooo owe me a drink next time we're all out. jk. Unless? ????

No but for real we should catch up soon sounds like you've got a lot going on.

me:

Next weekend man, I drank so much last night.

Jaiden

Saw you on the dance floor. Didn't know you knew Tina. 👀

me:

Met her last weekend at Schlatt's. 😊

Hey do you know if she's into girls or like, just having some fun?

Charlie

Still up?

My heart skips a beat seeing his name. I respond without thinking.

me:

Yeah!

Wait I mean no, it's tomorrow now.

But I'm up, what's up?

There's a missed call from him as well, and a voicemail waiting. At the time I recieved it I would have been in Bizly's garage. I hold my breath for a long second, attempting to stave off the guilt creeping through my chest. Then I listen.

"Hey!" He sounds excited, "Hey, hi. I tried to find you tonight but I think you left. So like um. Are we okay? I mean, it seems like we're not, but also I miss talking to you. Dude, I ate a whole thing of fries in the car by myself and man it was weird as hell. Also I'm sorry I said I love you. I know that's like a crazy thing to do. But also, I do love you. You're for real the coolest person ever. We don't have to be together, or like anything at all. But you're my best friend, my ride or died, die? But died rhymes that sounds better. I think we should hang out. Maybe not tomorrow I drank a lot. But yeah I love you, full homo, get fucked about it, peace out, get friend zoned loser. Okay bye. Oh fuck how do I end the-" BZZZ.

Tears form in the corners in my eyes as I laugh from my belly in a way I haven't in at least weeks. I have to listen to it again, and then a third time before I can hear it without losing it a little. Holy shit, I was not gonna let him live this down. There's a reply from him when I'm done with the voicemail.

Charlie

Hey what's up?

Oh I texted you first lol.

me:

Dude you were wasted last night. Left me a spicy voicemail.

Charlie:

I WHAT

me:

How hungover are you? Pick me up for fries tomorrow?

Charlie:

Okay???

Still sore, the laughter hurts my stomach and I need to lay down. Without meaning to, I fall asleep in the coziness of my pillows before the sun had even set. I dream of peaceful nonsense and wake in the middle of the night.

There are more messages from the evening before, and I work on replying to them.

Bizly

Lookin good in my shirt

come back soon and I'll take it off for you

me:

Dude my insides need a break. 😅

Grizzly

Yeah man! Bunch of us are doing kareyoke on Friday if you wanna come.

Caryoke? Karaoke? Idk.

me:

Hell yeah, send me the location.

Jaiden

No idea man, good luck!

me:

Thanks lol

I figured I should say something to Tina too, and really mull over whats gonna sound right. Jaiden seeing us together, and asking me about it, really had me wondering what was up with the pretty girl I've been kissing while drunk. If I really am just someone she wants to kiss at parties, she's definately got the right girl for the job. Maybe she's just nervous for more? Maybe she likes to move a little slower? I settled on something short and simple:

Thanks for inviting me out, had a great time last night. I'd love to see you again soon.

Last night? Was it really just last night?

Since I'm talking to Charlie again I better send him the first edits for the photoshoot we did. Email sent. Okay cool.

Now what? I pace my living room, try to find something to watch, scroll TikTok from various uncomfortable positions on the couch.

Tina, Charlie, and Bizly. Somehow in one night I had gone from no prospects to three suitors. I giggle to myself, suitors was a strange way to put it. Maybe it's all a little too much. Too much making out, too much sex, and way too much in the feelings department.

I let out a heavy sigh as I try to distract myself with various apps. Maybe I need a vacation. Why not? I sit up, excited by the idea. I can edit from my laptop, take a break from streaming. Ah shit streaming, maybe I'd already taken a long enough break. No. No! I deserve a Holliday. Suddenly I'm browsing travel sites, checking flights, looking for sunny beaches and all-you-can eat buffets. What if I find like, an adventure package?

It's the wee hours of the night and I've eaten, gotten ready for bed again, and settled under the covers all while planning out the details for a next-month solo getaway. By the time reservations are made and flights are booked, my heavy eyes sink closed. Before I fall asleep, one fleeting thought, does this count running away?

In the late morning, confirmation emails remind me of my new plans, and the thought of running is long gone. A message from Charlie sits in my notifications while I start my day. I update my discord, "Streaming tonight, 7pm, dunno what we're playing yet," and close the app before replies flood in. Then I check the message.

Charlie

Hey lmk when you're ready

me:

Dude how do you wake up so early?

But yeah, ready anytime.

I feel nerves build as I wait for him to arrive. The new hickies down my neck are a bright red and I debate trying to hide them, but I don't want to lie. I still haven't promised anything to anyone, but hurting Charlie is easily one of the things I've started to hate the most. When he pulls up I have to fight the desire to lock myself into my apartment.

Climbing into his car, a million things go though my mind, and in the last second I decide on finding another new nick name, "Hey Char... lie, no wait that's just your name. I'm running out of these."

He smiles at me awkwardly, hand nervously readjusting his hair. "Hey," is all he says.

"Fries?" I turn the music up as we pull away. It's still the playlist I shared with him. Thankfully the songs fill the space so we don't have to, and inspite of everything neither of us can resist singing a good song. "I'm working late, cause I'm a singer. Boy you look so cute, wrapped round my finger," I sing the part of the song we'd long ago decided was my line.

"Your twisted humour, makes me laugh so often, My honey bee, come and get this pollen," he continues before we both join together for the pre-chorus. Inspite of all the ways I like to bug Charlie, I always let him have the melody when we car duet. He loves showing off in song and I could never deny him that. We do our goofy dance moves and add our weird vocal quirks, and by the time we've made it to the drive through were laughing at eachother uncontrollably. Charlie has to stop and calm himself before we pull up to order.

Down the road, music low again, I make an attempt at normal conversation, "You know I've never asked, are you okay being the one whose always driving us around?"

He glances at me, raw emotion on his face. Fear, or maybe closer to worry, is plain in his eyes. We don't usually do deep conversation. Even me asking him how he feels about something I expect, it's definately off course.

"Y-yeah, its our rhythm, we just do it this way," he replies.

"Hmm," I barely respond, lost in my own thought. It's quiet until I speak again, "I don't ask you how you feel about a lot of things,"

It's not a question, and he doesn't answer. But after awhile he sighs, "Soo.... You saw Bizly again,"

This isn't a question either, but I sigh back, hand darting up to my neck. "I did," there's a sadness in my own voice that I don't dare call attention to.

"That's fine," he says it so quiet.

"Is it?" I hear my own voice demanding the question.

"It's-" he pauses for a long time, "let's go somewhere and talk."

Charlie takes us to a parking spot near some old baseball diamonds. They're mostly empty today. We pick at the fries for an unbearably quiet few minutes.

"I, uh- look if you'd rather be with Biz..." He trails off.

"That's not it," I shake my head. "It's like, just sex,"

"I know. I can't do that," he looks out over the diamonds through his windshield.

"No, Charlie I-" I hear myself getting defensive and take a breath, "I'm not trying to choose between anyone, I don't want him more than you,"

"It's fine-"

"No, listen!" I cut him off, anger showing its head again. I close my eyes and take several deep breaths this time. "I want you Charlie, and I like you, a lot. Not just as friends,"

His head turns to me and he looks confused.

"I'm sorry I got so mad at you. I'm sorry I freaked out. I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you." Tears immediately start falling from my face and I feel like an idiot. Charlie deserves an apology, an explanation, even if it means I have to experience my own emotions. "I'm scared, Char. I don't think I can be what you want- that I can handle something serious again. And now it's out there, now I'm having feelings and you're having feelings and we can't put them back where they came from. It scares me,"

"It's okay," he tries to sooth me, but I'm not having it.

"It's not okay. You're sad. I'm sad. Everything's fucked," my words come out softer now, the anger and frustration disappearing with my confession of fear.

"We really don't talk about our feelings," he says, looking back out the front window, "I guess this was going to boil over at some point,"

Coldness creeps over my skin as I anticipate him saying he doesn't want to see me again. Instead he takes my hand. We sit there, and he lets me cry. It's uncomfortable, but it's a start. If we've got all these stored up emotions, they have to come out somehow.

"I've been scared too, I don't want to lose you," he says when my tears slow.

"I'm not going anywhere," then I remember the vacation I booked, "except actually, I've got a trip coming up in about six weeks, and I think like maybe, that also counts a little bit as running away." I look at him and smile, exaggerating my discomfort in a toothy grin.

He laughs. This fucker looks at me and laughs. I start to laugh too, doubling over in his car until I have to catch my breath.

"Oh my god, you're so dramatic," he teases.

"You're the weirdo who likes me," I poke fun right back.

As the scarier feelings subside for us both, he asks, "What now?"

"I think maybe we talk about it more," my face scrunches at the thought, "but like later, because I haven't done this whole communication thing in years, and I missed you, and I want to make you listen to the message you left me,"

"Oh gaawwd," he groans, "I was hoping you forgot about that.

"It's really sweet, and I want to make you blush again," I wink at him before pulling up my voicemail.

As he listens his face and ears get red and I watch him in adoration. There really is no going back now. We've opened the door to something strange and new, and will just have to see where it takes us.

I can't help but laugh as the voicemail ends. "Full homo?" I ask.

"Shut uuuup," he complains, shoving fries in his mouth.

"It's cute. Made me laugh," I take a fry as well. "Charlie, I-" it's hard to say the words. The red in his face is still present, making it so easy to look at him. I lean over the center console and kiss him softly in the cheek. "Me too, full homo,"

The blush creeps up his ears and an easy, goofy smile lights up his face. He turns quickly to look at me and the moment feels so right, so much like us. He kisses me softly, slowly. I kiss him back. The heat starts to build between us and I pull away before it can get any further.

"Third time's the charm?" He says it lightly.

"Hmm?" The kiss transfered his blush to my cheeks. I was bright red as well.

"For a first kiss? Third time's the charm,"

"Yeah, Charlie, third time's the charm." I lean back in the passenger seat with a little grin as he pulls the car out and drives off.

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember Day 23: Under a Spell

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Jun (cold)

Caregiver(s): Mingyu (virtually)

Word Count: 878

Notes: Two Jun fics in a row. It's almost like he's my bias-wrecker or something.

“Junnie-Hyung!” Mingu cheered instantly when the Facetime call was accepted. He had been biting his lip, hoping that Jun wasn’t busy. He could’ve always left a voicemail if so, but he just really wanted to talk with Jun tonight. And the feeling appeared to be mutual; the sight of Mingyu made his hyung smile on impact. 

“Mingyuuuu!” Jun exclaimed, shifting around to a more comfortable position. He appeared to be on a couch, wherever he was. “How are you?”

“I miss youuu!!!”

“I miss you too! How are promotions going?” His voice sounded off to Mingyu, but he figured it was the audio quality. 

“Amazing, hyung!” Mingyu sighed. “Everything has been going so smooth, but it’s just different without and Hannie-hyung.”

Jun pouted. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. You’re living your dreams right now! How’s filming?”

“Filming is going great! My scene partners have been fantastic, and…” Jun broke off, disappearing off the screen, sneezing twice.

Mingyu’s face fell. Something in his brain clicked. “Hyung, are you sick?”

Jun nodded, swiping at his nose. “Yeah. Just a cold, though.” 

It was Mingyu’s turn to pout. “I’m sorry to hear that…” 

“It’s okay, really. It was bound to happen. I had to get thrown in a pool for a scene the other day, and wet clothes plus cold weather plus AC blasting inside PLUS erratic sleep hours…” He shrugged. “It’s more annoying than anything.” He sniffled, rubbing at his nose again. “Besides, I’ve had worse.”

“But we’re not there to take care of you!”

“No, and that’s definitely been felt. Luckily I have the next two days off anyway, and my cast mates have been really kind…”

“But they're not us,” Mingyu interrupted. 

Jun shook his head. “No, they’re not you.” 

Mingyu couldn’t fight the frown off his face. Yes, of all the members, Junhui was probably one of the most adept at taking care of himself when sick; he never made a fuss about it but advocated for his needs and spoke up to let others know what was going on, took his medicine and drank plenty of fluids and slept as much as possible. But just because Jun was self-sufficient didn’t mean he had to be. When he was at home, in the dorm, with his team, they knew how to take care of him without being asked. Mingyu knew exactly how Jun liked his tea, knew which blanket in the living room he preferred, knew the recipes that comforted him the most. And knowing that his brother was so far away from all that… it broke his heart.  

“Gyu? Are you still with me?”

“Y-yeah. I’m just… bummed that you’re sick and I can’t be there with you.”

Jun laughed. “I’m pretty sure you have better things to do then hang out with me and my germs.”

“Okay, fine, I’d rather not hang out with your germs, but I’d take them if it meant I could hug you.”

“Are you homesick for me?”

Mingyu blinked. “Honestly, yeah, I think so. Aren’t you?” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. He slapped a hand against his mouth, eyes comically wide. 

Thankfully Jun laughed before his smile turned thoughtful. “Desperately. But I am also so happy to be here. This all feels so…”  He began to move his hands in a circle, searching for the right word. He opened his mouth to respond, but pitched forward with another sneeze instead. “See, I don’t even have words for how much I miss you!”

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Should I let you get back to resting, then?” 

“No, no, I want to hear about the comeback!”

“Are you sure?”

Jun nodded. “Talking with you has been the highlight of my week.”

So, beaming brighter than the sun, Mingyu talked. He explained every detail of their comeback from practice to pre-recording to performances. He explained their outfits, their sets, the memes and jokes that they’d created. After a few minutes, distracted in his story, Mingyu noticed that Jun’s eyes had slipped closed. He hadn’t noticed when that had happened. 

“Hyung? Are you still with me?”

Jun smiled before opening his eyes. “Yes, I’m listening. Your voice is putting me to sleep, though, it’s so peaceful. It’s like magic.” 

“Adila kiya akiya shurapoeh / With a language only we know, I cast a spell,” Mingyu sang softly. Jun beamed. Mingyu continued singing, starting back at the top of “Spell.” Jun moved his shoulders along to the beat, arms twisting and winding in an interpretive version of the actual choreography. Mingyu’s voice grew sillier in time with Jun’s movements until both of them were giggling hysterically. 

Suddenly a knock came on Mingyu’s door. He turned to see Joshua poking his head in, gesturing that it was time for dinner. Mingyu nodded before turning back to the phone. “Okay, hyung, I’m so sorry but I gotta go.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for chatting so long. I love you, Gyu.” Jun formed a heart with his hands. 

Mingyu copied the gesture. “Love you too, Junnie. Feel better soon, okay? Pretend I’m there giving you the biggest hug in the world.”

Jun wrapped his arms around himself. “I can feel the love.” 

“Good. Bye, hyung.”

“Bye bye!” 

[lcvesjj]

Flowers - Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader

Pairing : Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader

Prompt : “This is actually the first time I’ve received flowers…” 

Summary : You decide to surprise your boyfriend with some flowers for his birthday. 

Warnings : none I think? 

A/n : sorry for any mistakes, this is my first time writing for Jay but I honestly love how cute this turned out ����

You had decided that you wanted to surprise Jay with some flowers, since you thought it would be a cute and nice gesture.  

You had just spent the last few days in New York, which made you feel awful since you knew that his birthday was coming soon and you didn’t want to miss it. 

As soon as you got the green light to be able to head back to Chicago, you booked a flight as soon as possible. But you didn’t tell Jay anything. And after discussing it with his coworkers and Voight. You decided to surprise him by cooking his favourite meal and getting him some small gifts and flowers. Everyone agreed it was a great idea and that Jay would love it for sure. 

After landing safely back home, you started to get everything ready before Jay could get home, since it was supposed to be a surprise. You just hoped he wouldn’t figure it out, since that would ruin the surprise.

Jay felt like something was off, since he tried to text and call you. But you weren’t picking up at all. He started to get really worried, so as soon as his work hours ended, Jay ran out of the district so fast that he nearly fell down a few times. He tried calling your number a few times, but every single time it went straight to voicemail. 

Driving to your shared apartment, his heart was pounding. But seeing your car parked in your designated spot. He started to get confused, you were supposed to still be in New York?

While you were adding the finishing touches to the meal and checking your outfit, Jay was running up the stairs trying to find his keys.

Stopping in front of the door he sighed, he had completely forgotten about his keys and left them in his truck. But before he could turn around to run back down to his truck, the front door opened revealing you.

Smiling at him softly, you said “Happy early birthday my love.” Jay looked so shocked but after a few seconds he smiled so widely pulling you in for a short but sweet kiss. “I missed you so much Y/n. I’m so happy you're finally home.” Jay said, pulling away softly before leaning in to place a few more kisses on your lips. “Me too.” You laughed, tracing his cheeks with your finger. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He asked pulling you in for an even tighter hug. “Yes, you have. But it’s always nice to hear it.” You laughed softly, he was so adorable. 

“Now c’mon. I made dinner! I don’t know if you will even like it but-” Jay cut you off by kissing you. “I’m sure it’s amazing sweetheart. Just like you.” He winked at you. You just laughed at him, tugging him by the arm towards the kitchen where you had set up a small table with a candle and champagne.

Jay’s eyes widened a bit, you had gone all out. But it made him even happier, Jay knew that you were the one for him. He even planned on asking you to marry him someday. Jay saw a future with you. 

Seeing the food on the table, he immediately started to feel hungry. Jay hadn’t eaten much today, since the unit had a high priority case so he was working a lot and barely had the time to eat a proper meal.

“Can I help with anything honey?” He asked, hugging you from behind and placing his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe you could open the champagne? I think I already have everything ready, just a few last things I need to add.” You smiled looking at him. Jay looked so happy and relaxed, his green eyes were sparkling. Which made him look even cuter with his cheek dimples. 

After he had opened the champagne, you realised you had forgotten something. 

“Oh! One more thing before I forget!” You said quickly walking back to the hallway. Jay’s face filled with confusion, but that confusion turned into shock when he saw you walk in with a bouquet of a dozen red roses. 

“These are for you. I figured I would buy these for you when I was walking by a flower shop in the airport. They symbolise love, faithfulness and loyalty.” You smiled at him. His cheeks immediately went red. “Y/n…I-I don’t know what to say. These are beautiful. Thank you so much.” Jay had tears in his eyes, he never felt so loved and cared for as he did right now. “I hope you like them.” You said handing him the flowers. “This is actually the first time I’ve received flowers…” Jay chuckled sadly, wiping a small tear from his cheek. Without saying anything you simply pulled him into a hug saying “I will definitely be getting you more flowers in the future then.” You said walking over closer and wiping his cheeks softly before kissing him. “I love you so so much Y/n.” He whispered, looking you straight into the eyes. “And I love you even more Jay.” You pulled him in for another kiss.

After the amazing meal, you and Jay curled up on the sofa catching up on the episodes of your favourite show. Looking over at him you smiled, he was definitely the one for you.

[br0-k3n-sch00lb01]

@n3hmof1sh :3 hhheres the rest of what i have so fffar

The fic is gonna switch between hero and basils povs btw (itz gona all the way thru after neutral ending btw)

Basil dialed Hero’s college number on the phone. Polly was asleep. It was late.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Clk!

“Henry Desoto speaking, how can I help you?” Hero’s voice came through the receiver.

“...Hi… Hero, I-It’s Basil…” Basil mumbled.

“Oh! Basil. What’s wrong? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

“U-Um… I just… sorry, I’m okay. Did I w-wake you?”

“...No, I was just reading. Why are you up so late?”

“C-Couldn’t sleep. Nightmare.”

“Ah. Do you want to talk about it? It can help.”

“No.” Basil’s voice was firm. He didn’t need Hero knowing about… that.

“...If you’re sure…” Hero said, skeptical. “Anyhow, why’d you call?”

“I j-just needed someone to talk to. Kel wouldn’t answer… h-he’s probably fast asleep, haha…”

“Okay then. Are you feeling okay? Have you been eating well, getting enough sleep?”

“...y-yeah. Polly cooks for me, so I d-don’t have to worry about m-making things…”

“That’s good. Hey, we should both be getting to bed, but remember you can call whenever, okay? You’re 15 now- so I doubt you want to talk to an old hoot like me- but just keep that in mind, okay?”

Basil nodded, then remembered Hero couldn’t see him. “O-Okay.”

“Have a good night, Basil. Sleep well!!”

Basil hummed, and held the phone to his ear even after the beep.

He slowly set it down, his eyes welling up.

God, he was pathetic, wasn’t he?

“Pour l'amour de Dieu…” He muttered. He stepped away from the phone, the pale moonlight feeling like it was shining a spotlight on him.

He turned away from the window. 

And then, he turned back, and turned on the answering machine, going to the only voicemail he had.

Basil clicked play.

“...Hi, Basil!! It’s Mari. I hope you’re feeling okay after yesterday. Kel really tripped you bad, huh? Sunny was glaring at him the rest of the afternoon. If looks could kill, Kel would be toast. Sunny wanted to know if you were feeling up to hanging out today… be sure to call me back, or stop by our house. Bye bye~!!”

Beep.

Basil took a deep breath.

He remembered that rainy day in July, when Kel had accidentally tripped him and he’d scraped his knee on the wet concrete. 

Mari always worried about him. Hero always helped him.

Kel was a good friend. 

Aubrey was sweet and outgoing.

And Sunny…

Sunny, Sunny, my best friend. How could you leave me? You broke your promise. I forgive you. It must have been Something, blaming everything on you again. 

How I miss you. 

Basil backed away from the phone again and walked out of his room, avoiding the creaky floorboards. He slipped on his shoes at the front door and gently unlocked it, stepping out into the cool night.

He would make this quick.

He walked, this route being muscle memory at this point. He stopped in front of a light brown door, glancing at the nameplate- Suzuki.

He raised his hand and knocked.

He wasn’t expecting an answer, of course. Why should he?

But- the door creaked, slowly, and through the crack Basil could see tired brown eyes gazing back at him.

He couldn’t breathe.

“S-Sunny.” He gasped.

And Sunny closed the door, in fear.

Basil stood there, still frozen, his chest aching like someone was squeezing his heart in an iron band.

And he fell to his knees and sobbed, his forehead falling against the cool wood of the door.

Sunny, please come back. Please don’t hate me. I can’t bear to see that. Tu es ma vie, mon destin, alors s'il te plaît, reviens.

He sat there until he couldn’t cry anymore. When he got up, he didn’t take a look back.

As he walked down the street, he ran a hand through his hair and thought, Don’t worry, Sunny. I’ll save you again. Something behind you… I’ll get rid of it, once and for all. You won’t have to be scared anymore.

***

Hero was in his dorm room. Basil had seemed… off, in that call. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was wrong. 

Did it have something to do with… Mari? 

That still hurt him to think about, even though it had been at least 3 years since it had happened. But Basil had seemed alright shortly after it, so what was the issue…? Did reality finally sink in? Or was it something entirely different?

He was getting a headache. 

Hero sighed, running a hand through his hair. Maybe he should have stayed back in town, to make sure everyone was alright… he had just felt like he needed an escape from Faraway, at least for a little while, since every time he passed by Sunny’s house he felt like someone was clawing his heart out of his chest. 

Wait. Sunny.

Maybe that was Basil’s issue. As far as Hero knew, Sunny still hadn’t come out of his house. He remembered, a few years ago, his conversation with Basil not long after the incident…

“What about Sunny? Have you tried knocking on his door?” Hero asked.

Basil had started crying almost immediately.

“Basil? Hey, don’t cry… what’s wrong?” Hero asked.

Basil looked up. “O-Oh, um, haha, sorry… S-Sunny won’t answer the door… his mom says that I s-should try again in a few days…” He said quietly, reaching up to wipe the tears away.

Hero sighed. Basil must really miss him. They had been best friends, after all… maybe Hero would try to talk to Basil about it next time he saw him.

He glanced at his calendar. He’d be visiting Faraway again in two weeks. On February 21st.

What have I gotten myself into? Basil’s probably a wreck. 

His birthday is right before I get there. Hopefully Kel remembers.

[alessiathepirate]

Supernatural

A NIGHT IN MISSOULA: Nick x fem!reader

Summary: How it could've turned out if Nick wasn't completely alone...

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

I had to fix his storyline damn it, he deserved so much better!

Warnings: set in season 14, fluff (come on, my man deserves it goddamn it), mentioned death and violence, grief

•••

Her phone's screen illuminated the motel room again, for the fifth time in the last hour.

She lazily raised her head to look at it before laying her head back on the man's chest whose arms were holding her close to his body, as if he was afraid that she'll just disappear. She hugged him tighter, as if to tell him that she'd never go anywhere when she already had him.

Two missed calls from Dean, one from Sam and two from Cas.

Cas and Dean even left voicemails. It was a wonder they haven't made Jody or Donna look for her yet.

"I forgot to check in." she mumbled quietly, afraid that her voice alone could ruin the calm moment they were having - moments like these occured rarely. Very rarely, especially since both of their minds were full of unsolved issues, confusing emotions and grief. "I'll have to call them or they'll get a heart attack and send some hunters after us."

"You'll call them later." Nick's fingers ran along her spine, drawing invisible shapes into her skin here and there. "Please."

She smiled up at him, her heart feeling heavy from his last word alone.

Please - please don't leave; please stay; please, I need you. She felt the same way toward him. She needed him just as much as he needed her - to not go insane, to not break, to be able to enjoy and appreciate the simple things in life.

"They can wait, I suppose." she agreed and let her fingers run along the side of Nick's face and jaw. "We're a long way from home anyway. They wouldn't reach us in time."

They left months, close to a year ago.

Nick wanted justice, he wanted to find the man who murdered his family - and since she had her own demons to fight, her own people to grieve, she knew exactly how he felt.

Nick left first and she followed him, only leaving a short letter behind for her own family, what said 'I found a job - it's personal. Be back soon. Love you all.'. That 'soon' turned into weeks, then months. And as it turned out they needed each other more than the boys needed her.

She reached Delaware just in time to stop Nick from beating the truth out of Arty Nielson - and used that fake FBI badge of hers to figure out what the man saw that night.

After that it went easily. She posed as an FBI agent while Nick stayed himself, and together they were tracking the culprit who turned out to be a demon. Abraxas. They'll get the fucker in Hibbing in a day or two.

Thanks to her presence, Nick managed to keep his cool. He managed to keep his sanity. He managed to realize that there's still someone out there who cares. He managed to slowly, painfully slowly, let go of Lucifer and accept the fact that he found someone to love - who apparently loved him back.

"Y/N?" she looked at him again with a questioning look. "I never really said thank you for what you did for me."

"Nick--" she wanted to begin to argue; wanting to say that he has absolutely nothing to thank - her love and care for him was purely natural.

"No, please let me finish." he interrupted her as his left hand started to play with her hair. "I mean it. Thank you for everything. I'm pretty sure that without you I would've gone crazy. And you didn't have to care or help, I wasn't your responsibility. Sarah and Teddy's case wasn't yours to solve either. But you were there for me, you're still here for me and I just--"

She gently touched his face again.

"You were there for me too, Nick." it was her turn to interrupt him and prove him that she cared. "When I was still grieving my best friend, you were there." her heart still ached when she or anyone referred to Gabriel. "When Jack got sick and I was thousands of miles away from the bunker, you were there. I wasn't your responsibility either, and you are still here for me too."

Nick smiled at her - with a honest smile, without any sadness behind it; with a smile full of adoration.

"I love you, Y/N..."

She felt her heartbeat quicken and it felt like she was having an honest to God heart attack.

They were spending the nights together for a month now, sure. They were even kissing, holding hands and cuddling. They complimented the other's appearance. But saying those three words? That was new, completely new. It was something she knew she was feeling, but was afraid to put into words when Nick was still clearly in a dark place. She thought it might've been too soon.

She let the words sink in - she let them make her heart flutter. She even let them bring tears to her eyes.

"I love you too, Nick."

She pushed herself up onto her elbows and leaned forward so her lips were able to reach his.

Nick was holding her face between his hands as the kiss deepened. It was sweet, slow, full of love - both of them wanted to show the other that they meant what they've said, wholeheartedly.

By the time they broke apart, her phone was ringing again, yet in their happiness they both ignored it.

"Promise me you won't leave me." Nick was begging, pleading as he looked her in the eye. "Please..."

"I won't. Ever." she promised as she smiled down at him. "I'll never leave you."

His fingers were playing with her hair again, when her phone's screen turned on once more. Another missed call.

"Nick?"

"Yeah?" he seemed distracted as he explored every small, hidden detail of her face - her cheeks turned pink from the thought of him finding her beautiful.

"After we're done..." she began slowly, unsurely. "Will you come back to Kansas with me? To say goodbye?"

Nick's hands stopped their exploration as he looked at her - really looked at her - to see if anything was wrong.

"Goodbye?" he asked, confused. "Why would you say goodbye? That place is your home, you're a hunter and--"

"I'm quitting." she stated and there was a strange feeling inside her stomach as she said her thoughts out loud. "Ever since I met Dean I wanted to hunt and live the life he and his family had, but it takes so much... I love the boys and Cas and Jack, but I can't do it anymore." she smiled when Nick started to stroke her side in comfort. "You're my last case. And I want to enjoy the aftermath forever."

The truth was that she couldn't afford losing anyone else. She was sure she wouldn't survive that.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." she let out a small laugh. "And maybe we can have that 'apple pie life' close to the bunker in case those morons still need my help."

Nick kissed her again, this time with love and passion, and she gladly kissed back. Her hands disappeared in his hair and she was about to leave some of her marks behind on the side of his neck, when her phone began to ring again.

"Talk to them." he said after they unwillingly broke apart. "I'm not going anywhere."

She grabbed her phone with a groan and accepted Cas' call as she lay down next to Nick, grabbing his hand and drawing invisible shapes into his palm.

"Hey, Cas. Sorry I didn't pick up before, I was in the middle of something just now. Is everything okay?"

She was barely listening.

All she could think about was her last case and the man she was willing to give up hunting for.

And she really hoped her found family will accept her decision without wanting to beat the crap out of the man she loved...

[haliotropes]

Black Star (Rustin Cohle x OC)

11. and Hanging Around | Rated E

₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ

The night of the raid, though that particular event was unbeknownst to her, Kenny drives home in a frantic blur. She isn't even sure how far she was or when she left the field or when she arrived. It was still dark at any rate. She goes inside, pats a worried Froggy on the head, and is sure to lock her doors. She locks her bedroom door. She barricades it with a nearby trunk. Whatever she encountered in that field is not getting her in her own home.

The next morning she wakes early, almost like an omen. Cracks an ice cold Diet Coke and turns on the seven o'clock news, waits through a handful of commercials for urgent reports.

“A firefight turned major drug bust broke out early this morning in a neighborhood within Iberia Parish,” a newswoman says. Kenny fumbles for the remote and turns up the volume. “At least 23 individuals were taken into custody, many of the neighborhood sustaining anywhere from minor to major injuries. There are no reports of fatalities at this time.”

Kenny's hands fly for her phone. She clumsily dials Rust's home phone, knowing for almost certain he's not even there. It rings out and goes to voicemail. She hangs up, dials Marty's house. Maybe if Rust didn't come home, Marty did, or if he didn't, then maybe Maggie would know where they are, or would know something.

Three rings. Kenny chews on her fingers. The sound changes and her heart nearly beats out of her chest.

“Hello?”

It's Maggie. Kenny sighs in relief that she at least gets to talk to someone.

“Hey, Mags, it's Kenny. Have you heard from Marty this morning?”

“Um, no, I haven't. Why?”

Kenny bites on her lip, wondering how much to divulge- not that she knew much herself.

“He and Rust went on a job last night. They wouldn't tell me what. I think I just saw the aftermath on the news and I just, I needed to know if you knew-”

“That drug bust?”

“Yeah. But don't call Steve or anybody. It's… complicated.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“If you're working today, stay by the phone. I'll call you when I know something.”

“Kenny…”

“I'll figure it out. I'll do something.”

She hangs up. The something is loaded and weighs heavy on her tongue. She has no idea what that something is or if it even exists. What's she supposed to do, drive around the south part of the state and hope she bumps into them?

She only wants to feel like she has some semblance of control, of responsibility. In reality, there's nothing more she can do than get cleaned up and go do her job, try to ignore the double gut punch of what Tuttle had said to her the night before, and now having no clue where Marty or Rust are and if they're alright.

There is no possibility of a normal day, but Kenny tries. She cleans herself up and drives to work. Drifts into the office and types up the copy for the article Doucet had given to Stephon about gator populations. Discussion of the drug bust was inevitable.

“Did you hear about Iberia?” Asks Stephon from two desks down. Kenny flexes her hand and sets down her pen; she'd been writing Fish & Wildlife Department phone numbers to call.

“Saw it on the news,” is all she says.

“Wonder who'll get it,” Stephon says. Kenny doesn't have the heart or the energy to say that she hopes it isn't her. Call it a conflict of interest or selfishness. If that's where Marty and Rust were last night, she knows she needs to stay away from it.

There's still no news by midday. Kenny makes her calls, writes up more than what's required of her- well, Stephon- for the population article, and turns it in. The cursor of her mouse lingers over a document she could blow dust off of, but she opens it anyway.

The King's Court: My Day with the Killer of Erath

It was a shit title but she was feeling wistful when she wrote it. Kenny's eyes skim over the rough starting paragraph.

“It is strange to say, but I had the feeling early on that he wasn't going to kill me. Why he went to all the trouble to kidnap me in the first place only to have a ten-minute conversation is beyond me. But then again, it's beyond my pay grade to rationalize the mind of a serial killer.”

Plenty of it doesn't make sense and the rest isn't very good. It's dishonest to imply she doesn't try to rationalize anyone's behavior. She knows why he went after her. This wouldn't make for a good diary-entry and it sure as shit won't pass for a decent narrative piece. Kenny deletes the whole thing.

She leaves the office at four, but not before calling Maggie and checking in. Still nothing. Kenny's best idea now is to drive around and pray her scanner picks up something. Anything.

She makes it about twenty miles east until she does.

"We've got EMS en route to Lafayette General, one individual."

Thankfully, Kenny's on an empty gravel road because she slams on the breaks and drifts around.

"10-84, three individuals."

Kenny's mouth goes dry. One person in an ambulance, three in a coroner's vehicle. Maybe it isn't even them.

But she feels it in her gut. Something happened. Some shoe dropped. She doesn't have the wherewithal to question when the second will fall.

-

Kenny stumbles from her Camaro when she spots Rust's truck in the parking lot of the hospital. She runs in, barely slows her gait at reception, who directs her to the third floor. ICU.

The elevator is painfully slow. The creaking doors slide open to reveal a mess of cops, none of whom Kenny recognizes. Over their hats, she spots Maggie's brunette ponytail so she shoulders through the small throng. With Maggie is Marty.

Her chest collapses in relief. Kenny runs and catches Marty in a hug just as he turns around.

“Good to see you too, kiddo.”

Kenny pulls away to look at his bright blue eyes. He's riding some adrenaline high, though from what, Kenny still isn't sure, and she doesn't want to make assumptions.

“Where's Rust? Is he okay?”

Kenny's hands squeeze into Marty's forearms at the sudden thought of only one of them making it out-

“Ken?”

But there he is, turning from a conversation with- Speece, actually, but that means nothing to Kenny. Later, she'd feel embarrassed and slightly guilty about the immediate display of affection, but as soon as she sees him, exhausted but somehow wide awake, clothes soaked through with sweat and every bit of the last 48 hours evident on his body, she runs to him and wraps her arms around his lithe waist. At first, he doesn't return the gesture, if only for a moment. Kenny doesn't know what that moment means and she doesn't care. He's alive, he's here, and that's all that matters.

But his arms do wrap around her, and when they do they do so tightly, his hands in fists.

“How'd you get here so fast?” He mutters against her hair.

“Police scanner,” is all Kenny says, sniffling into his filthy shirt. She didn't even notice she'd started crying but it's not like it mattered. “God, I thought- I thought you were dead. I thought he killed you somehow-”

“Nah, he didn't even get close.”

Kenny pulls away enough to look up at him.

“So you were there? Did… Did you kill him? Ledoux.”

Rust closes his mouth; something in his jaw ticks and he looks back at a room for a brief moment before looking over Kenny's head. “Let's find somewhere more private. We got a lot to talk about.”

And so, in an otherwise empty corner of a hallway, Kenny and Rust sit next to each other in chairs. Kenny's head rests on Rust's shoulder as he recounts the epic tale to her. She wants to be as close to him as possible. Absorb the danger, should anymore come. She never wants him to get hurt again.

“What was he like?” Kenny asks quietly as she mindlessly traces spirals into Rust's arm.

“Who, Ledoux?”

“Yeah.”

“We didn't have much time to bond.”

Kenny lifts her head. “I know that. I mean…did he talk about it? Carcosa, the yellow king, black stars?”

Rust is looking at the wall adjacent to them. Kenny can't tell if that look in his eye is recollection…or choice.

“He mentioned em. Died all the same. Why you wanna know?”

Now, he looks at her. Kenny looks away and picks at her nails. Lies.

“I guess I just wanted it to mean something.”

“Wanted what to mean something?”

Despite herself, Kenny's gaze flicks down to her hands.

“The deaths.”

After a beat, Rust leans forward.

“No, that's not what you meant.”

Kenny's heart stops, her eyes widen, meet his.

“What?”

“You weren't talking about those dead girls. You know death dunn't mean anything, that it's just the light going out.”

“Rust-”

“We both know their deaths meant nothing but the end. That has nothing to do with any of us, not even Ledoux. And you know that, so what are you really asking me?”

Did he mention me? Whoever is really in charge? Did he act the same to you he did to me?

Rusty speaks in Kenny's silence.

“What'd he say to you that day?”

Kenny grimaces. “I told you.”

Rust wipes his mouth and it twitches under his palm. “Did you tell me all of it?”

Kenny's breaths grow shallower as his doubt begins to grow inside of her like guilt. “I told you what you needed to know to help you get him-”

Rust's hands come away from his face in a sharp movement. “Well, since it didn't matter then, why don't you tell me now?”

“I was fuckin scared, alright, Rust?” Kenny pushes herself up from the chair and bites her thumbnail, watches as the black spots on the fringes of her vision eat into a fake plant in the corner. She takes a shaky breath. “Ledoux took one look at me and knew something that no one else did, that no one else understands. And I don't- I don't know if it's real or if he was crazy or if I'm crazy…”

Kenny flinches when she hears Rust stand so she whips around, but he brings his hands up to suggest caution, like she's a wounded animal. Like she might bite.

“Why'd he let you go, Ken?”

“He thought he had no business killing me. Because I'm like him or something. I think he just meant batshit insane, but I don't know-”

“What else did he say?”

Kenny exhales, pinches the bridge of her nose. She's tired of the questions. Of the way she can't lie to him.

“That I was born there…I asked if where we were was Carcosa, he said no. I asked if he was the king in yellow, he said no. He said that one day I'd be called to it.”

“Yeah…you mentioned that.”

“Which part?”

“There being more than one. You know, we got two guys at the site.”

Kenny shakes her head. “No…no. it's more than that.”

“If there's an accomplice, we'll find him.”

“They're gonna close the case. Tuttle’ll shut it down and then it'll happen again and he'll be right and I'll be called to it…” Kenny's wrapped her arms around herself, hyperventilating, her mind racing with the rust and dirt of that day with Ledoux.

“Ken,” Rust reaches a hand out, waits for her reaction. She doesn't flinch, doesn't shake, so he pulls her into him by her shoulder and holds her tight.

“And what if we got it right, hm?” He muses into her hair. “What if that was it, and Ledoux was trying to shake us off?”

“Then I think we'll have gotten very, very lucky.”

-

Rust hadn't gotten angry at her, not really. Or, maybe he had, but he knows it wasn't her fault.

He and Kenny had gone back to his place. He wanted to go to hers but he needed a shower and fresh clothes. He asked if Froggy would be alright. Kenny said she'd put in a doggy door after she had to replace the screen he'd busted out.

Rust damn near falls asleep in the shower. The hot water breaks through the dirt and sweat and blood and coke and whatever else of the past 48 hours. It pelts his skin, stings him, but he likes it. Needs it. He closes his eyes and listens to the faint sound of Kenny ordering a pizza. Of course, when Rust comes out and lands on the mattress, he is once again close to sleep. Through half lidded eyes, he watches Kenny attempt to tidy his space: straighten stacks and clean the counter and make little adjustments here and there.

He was angry because she was right, and it scared him. It scared him to see her scared, and the idea, the reality that maybe this wasn't all over, that they were still entrenched in this nightmare and would be until it happened again…

“Ken.”

She turns around, wide eyed despite the dark circles and redness and slow blinking. He hates that they had her worried.

“Yeah?”

Her voice breaks a little. Rust makes a gesture with his hand, the mere action wearing him out.

“Quit that and c’mere.”

Kenny hesitates, makes a small movement to set down whatever she's holding (looks like a random floppy disk), but then stops, but ultimately sets it in its pile and tiptoes over to the mattress. She doesn't lay next to him but sits with her back to the wall.

“You really should get a bed,” she says. Rust presses his face to her bare arm and sighs. He feels the goosebumps raise against his cheek.

“Mhm.”

“You might as well move some clothes to the farm for nights like these…”

Rust plants a feather light kiss to her arm before he can't keep his eyes open any longer. He falls asleep to the sensation of Kenny running her fingers through his hair, and he doesn't even wake up when the pizza comes by.

[thatgoblin]

Summary: Despite digging your heels in for months, you finally move in with John.

Warnings: Lots of Scottish swearing.

“Love, why is it so cold?” John asked as he walked into the house. Arms full of groceries, he found me bundled up and on a chair as I tried to open a vent.

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I’ve been muckin’ about with the thermostat for almost two hours and it keeps spittin’ out cold air. I dinna ken to do.”

“Oh, I’m glad I know Scottish people,” John said softly as he set the food on the counter. Coming over, he picked me up to set me on the ground. “Let me see if I can figure it out.”

“I already called the landlord and he said he’d be here an hour ago and he’s not messaged or called,” I said as I grabbed a blanket to wrap myself in.

“He never does,” John grumbled as he took off the thermostat cover to test the batteries. A few more minutes of him checking things out and he too couldn’t figure out what was wrong. “Everything looks good, but it doesn’t make sense. Why won’t it work? Call your landlord again. Tell him it’s the middle of winter and you’re pregnant and need heat.”

“He knows I’m pregnant and it’s the middle of winter. He will be here at some point,” I said.

“Love, you can’t just wait and hope he shows up,” John said, beginning to put items away.

“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. Part of the therapy we had been going to was focused on my constant road blocking and not letting anyone near to help. I needed to work on being able to instantly say no to things John offered to help with. For him though, he was working on not pushing me when I said no to things that did not need to be pushed. The heating was something we needed to get fixed ASAP though.

I grabbed my phone to give the landlord a call as John went back to tinkering with the heating. His phone rang and rang and rang, eventually it went to voicemail and that was full. I sent him a text as well, hoping he’d get back to me soon.

“No answer,” I said with a sigh.

“I know you want to stay here, but for tonight or until the heating is fixed, come stay at my place,” John said. Taking a moment to look around, I nodded.

���Okay. I’ll pack my bag. If you want to put the groceries in the car then we’ll head over.” It didn’t take long before we were packed up and over at John’s. The last time I had been there, I quickly realized, was when we had hooked up for the first and only time.

“John! Hello! Haven’t seen you in a while!” A woman’s voice called from across the street as John got out of the jeep. Looking over, I saw a tall, blonde with tight clothes that showed off her assets. She quickly crossed over to give him a hug as I stayed sitting in the front seat. “How are you? It’s been ages! Still working long distances?” John was stiff, but returned the hug a bit before quickly letting go.

“Yeah, still working on remote stations,” he said with a nod. Jealousy didn’t come naturally to me, at least in the sense that I got jealous over a partner. This wasn’t jealousy that had me hopping out of the jeep to walk over to them.

“Hi,” I said, standing next to John with a soft smile. My hands rested on my large belly that was hard to miss. “Who’s this, Jo?”

“This is my neighbor, Camilla,” John said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “She checks on my plants and gets my mail for me when I go on long business trips. Camilla, this is my partner.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” the woman said, holding out her hand for me to shake. “I had no idea that John had someone. I guess you’ve kept him all to yourself for the most part. You’re going to have to learn to share.”

“Kinda I guess,” I said, chuckling as I shook her hand. “We have groceries to get in, Jo.”

“Right,” John said. “It was good to see you again, Camilla. We’ll be seeing you.” He gave her a nod and wave before guiding me back to the jeep for us to grab our groceries and bags.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Camilla called before walking back to her house.

After getting everything inside and put away, I turned to John.

“Before you say anything-”

“Jo, she’s fuckin’ on it,” I cut him off with a snicker. “Don’t worry, I trust you. Her, not so much.”

“Let’s just get you settled in,” he said with a heavy sigh. Giggling, I helped him unpack the groceries before we moved my bags to the bedroom. I hadn’t been there since we had first met. “Is it just how you remember it?”

“Is it bad that I don’t remember it at all?” I asked with a wince. John barked out a laugh as he shook his head.

“Considering you were walking out with your shoes in hand, no. It’s fine,” he said, shaking his head. “Here, let’s put your things in the dresser.”

“You don’t have to clear out a drawer for me,” I said, ready to just pull stuff out of my bags. John snorted, rolling his eyes as he opened several already empty drawers of the dresser. “Oh, well then.”

“I may have had a few things ready for if you came over,” he said, dropping a kiss to my head.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I said, getting to work in putting my clothes away. “It is a nice house and now I feel bad I never came over till now.”

“It’s okay. I understand why you were hesitant and we’re working to get better together,” he said, carrying my toothbrush and hygiene products to the bathroom. The bed was a full size, something I hadn’t recalled, but then again I had been busy. Putting my body pillow that I cuddled and the super soft blanket that I had to have to pet when I was falling asleep. I didn’t want to tell John he needed a bigger bed, but with just the body pillow on it, it looked pretty small.

Just as I was changing from my trainers to my slippers, my phone rang. It was my landlord. A quick conversation and he would be over the next day.

“What’s the verdict?” John asked, coming back in.

“He said he’d be there tomorrow. Something came up,” I said with a groan.

“I’m not going to push you, but-”

“If I’m moving in, you need a bigger bed,” I said, cutting him off. John grinned as he came over to sit next to me.

“You really want to move in?” He asked, pulling me close to sit in his lap.

“At this rate, the landlord won’t have anything fixed. We’ll have to figure out what to bring in and what can be sold or put into storage, but we need to be in a better home when the baby comes,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Especially if you have to go on a mission and I’m left here alone with the ween. A sturdy house that has a Camilla instead of a flaky landlord.”

John rolled his eyes as I giggled, kissing his nose.

The rest of the evening was spent making a delicious dinner as we planned on what was needed of my things versus what John already had. Lists were made as we talked excitedly about what room to pick for the baby as well. John’s house was a two story townhouse that his parents had left him in their will, which meant our girl would be growing up in his childhood home. It made me a bit weepy because it was something good and warm and happy that we could give her that I didn’t have. I wanted her to have the opposite of what I did growing up and John’s home was perfect for that.

~::~::~::~::~::~::~

“How do you feel about having a pet?” John asked as I made breakfast the next morning.

“A pet? Like a bird or a cat?” I asked, slicing some fruit to put on the oatmeal.

“Well, like a dog,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. I had to abstain from my usual 3 cups for the last five months and I missed it. “I was thinking maybe having a big dog with you while I’m away would be nice.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “That sounds like more work, especially with a baby. Besides, I still need to figure out my own job and what I’m going to do. I’m sure they’re about to let me go because I’ve missed so much work. Pregnant or not, they need someone there and I’m not getting paid.”

“What if you didn’t get another job?” John asked. “You could be a stay at home mum and not have to worry about that.”

“What, so I can be barefoot and pregnant in your kitchen non-stop?” I snorted. “I need to do something, Jo. Whether it’s a job or picking up classes for computer training, just something.”

“That’s fair, but if you need time between jobs and making a decision on what to do, I will support you. If you want to even go so far as to not get ‘free money’ we can say you’re doing my house keeping,” John said. I had to cackle at that. “What? I’m serious!”

“I know and I appreciate it,” I said, moving to hug him. “I know money makes things sticky, but we are kind of bound together by a child and I’m moving in, so I would appreciate the monetary help.”

“We can set up a joint account so you have money for bills that aren’t on autopay with mine. It will make things easy so we both have our own accounts but it’s easier to send one another money if necessary,” John said, kissing my head as he rubbed my back, rocking us as we stood in the kitchen.

“I like that plan,” I said, smiling up at him. We were finding our rhythm and the counseling was working. I actually was realizing how happy I was compared to before him. John wasn’t the sole thing to keep me happy and sane, but he definitely was a part of it.

~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~

“Guess who I brought home!” John called from the front door as I came up from the basement having been busy with laundry. We had agreed on a dog and after looking at some pictures and reading up on breeds that were good with kids, we had decided on a German Shepherd/Bernese Mountain mix. He was two years old and at a shelter nearby, we had decided to adopt as well after finding out how much pure bred dogs went for as well as what went into making them. I was in love with the big, goofy looking guy the moment I saw him. He looked a lot like a Shepherd, but his ears were floppy and his coat was thick with more of the Bernese coloring than the Shepherd’s.

“Hello, sweetie,” I cooed, coming to greet the pair. The dog wasn’t wild, but he was clearly excited as he sniffed everything. I let John lead him over, a rubber muzzle on him for the time being. Some training would be necessary, but we both wanted this and knew it would be worth it in the long run. Holding out my hand, I let him sniff it curiously before getting a few kisses through the muzzle. “Aww, thank you Darlin’,” I said, close to tears at how kind and gentle he was being. The hormones had made me mostly sweaty and achy, up until the last week and then the emotions started and I couldn’t help but get weepy over the smallest thing.

“Welcome home, Cromwell,” John said, smiling as I began to pet the pup.

“Cromwell?” I asked, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. “What’s that from?”

“Oliver Cromwell was a general for the New Model Army in the 1600s,” John said, reaching down to give firm side pats. I knew he was interested in British military history, so it didn’t sound odd, but I knew that name somehow. A quick google search had me sighing heavily. “What?”

“The New Model Army, specifically Oliver Cromwell fought against the Scots to colonize them,” I said, narrowing my eyes and pursing my lips.

“Oh. . .” He said, realizing the issue.

“We’re not naming our dog after a fuckin’ colonizer. You’re lucky I’m not holding it against you for colonizing my uterus,” I said with a huff.

“I don’t know about that,” John said.

“The fuck ye mean ye dinna ken ‘bout it!?” I cried, getting a loud bark and awoo from the dog. “See! He’s a Scot! We’re not naming him after the bastard!” John groaned, sighing as I bent over to baby talk and love on our furry son.

“Then what should we name him?” John asked. I stood up straight and settled him with a menacing smirk. “Oh no.”

“Well, I’m from Lochend, so why not Nessie?” I said. “Are you a Nessie? Yes? Is your name Nessie?” I babbled at the dog who began to dance and whine as he became excited with me.

“Jesus Christ, fine, his name is Nessie,” John said, shaking his head at us.

~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~

“Are you okay?” John asked, eyes a bit wide as he stared at me and Nessie. I was on the couch with the dog curled up next to me, watching Archer on the TV.

“Yeah, why?” I asked, looking from the screen to his concerned face.

“Your belly. . . Is the baby doing that?”

I had a plate of pickles, olives, and crisps with dip on my belly and my child was making the biggest surf waves as she stretched and moved around. The plate was like a surfboard, riding the waves.

“Aye,” I said. “She’s just gettin’ her calisthenics in,” I said with a shrug, turning back to the TV.

“It. . . It doesn’t hurt?” He asked, just keeping his eyes trained on my belly.

“I mean, it feels weird, but I’ve gotten used to it. She’s been doing this for a while now, Jo. You’re just able to see it more now because she’s gettin’ bigger,” I said, chuckling as he shifted, crossing his arms then quickly putting his hands on his hips. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking from my belly to my face then back to my belly. “Yeah, I’m good.”

~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~

“Jo!” I screamed from the kitchen. “JOHN! GET IN HERE!” There was a feral growling coming from inside the cupboard as I held it shut. John barrelled into the room with Nessie right behind him.

“What? What is it?” He asked, looking around to assess the threat.

“There’s a BIRD in the cupboard!” I cried, pointing to the shut door as singing replaced the growls.

“What do you mean a bird? How did a bird get in?” John asked, coming over to shoo me off to the side.

“I had a window open to clean it and it just flew in,” I said, looking around him at the singing cupboard. “It came in like a fucking fighter pilot at me head and then it hovered around the kitchen before going to the mugs. I think it might have shit in there.”

“What the bleedin’ hell?” John muttered as he peeked into the cabinet. “Oh Jesus, Love,” he groaned as he opened the door to show a bird the size of my hand with a white head and light blue body in a glass jar. It was bobbing and singing as it literally vibrated itself in circles now and then. “It’s just a little budgie,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s probably someone’s pet that got loose.”

“You can have a bird as a pet?” I asked, looking on confused as John mirrored my expression back at me. “Don’t look at me like that!”

~::~::~::~::~::~

“It’s just until we find the owner or a foster home for it,” John said, pulling the sheet over the large birdcage. After an emergency run to the store, we found ourselves with a dog and a bird.

“Jo, I don’t know how to take care of a bird, not even for a few days. What are we going to do if we don’t find the owner? I’m just learning to take care of a dog and soon a wee babe!” I sighed. “I’m just not an animal person, I’m sorry. We never had any growing up, save for Johnny’s gerbil, Dalglish, that he lost after having it for a week. It never came back.”

“Your brother’s gerbil ran away from home?” John asked, snickering as Nessie looked at the covered cage with worry. At least it looked like worry. He whined a bit, but hearing John say his name and he was quiet. John and I were working hard to train him and it was definitely paying off. Part of me was worried that he’d try and eat the bird, but so far he just stared in concern.

“None of us knew how to take care of anything! No one taught us! It was a gift for his birthday when he was 11 and from one of our aunts. I don’t remember which one,” I explained. “You’re lucky I know how to take care of you.”

“For which I am thankful,” John snorted. “But I’m also a grown man.”

“Which proves why animals are a big step and we need to find someone to take the bird,” I said. “So don’t get attached.”

~::~::~::~::~::~

“Aw, thank you, you wee babe,” I cooed at Bonnie, the budgie, as she walked around my shoulder and made kissy noises at me.

“What happened to you not being an animal person?” John asked as I made posters of her to put up.

“Mind yer own business,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

~::~::~::~::~::~::~

The ADHD was really ramping up with the hormone shift. The staring off into space while forgetting what I was doing. That wasn’t the case at the moment. John was grunting and huffing as he was putting together the crib we had just bought. It was supposed to be done in 20 minutes, but the instructions only came in French apparently. So John was doing his best to go off the pictures. I stood in the doorway, watching as he sat on his knees and staring at the large unfolded paper. He was concentrating, furrowing his brow as he rolled up his plaid button up sleeves to get them out of the way. It was a few minutes of standing there, staring at him while fantasizing about doing something else than putting the crib together, before he looked up.

“Can I help you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“You’re lucky I’m pregnant right now or I’d be making you put a baby inside me now,” I said, earning a gruff laugh.

~::~::~::~::~::~

“You’re finally speaking to your brother because you need him to side with you on this argument?” John asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as I called Johnny.

“Aye,” I growled.

“ ‘lo?” Johnny’s voice was confused and probably nervous.

“ ‘ey, yer on speaker. Tell John he’s a fuckin’ right bastard for tryin’ to name the baby Margaret?”

“What!? Sir! The fuck ‘re ye on about!? Respectfully, Price, what the fuck!?”

“It was a suggestion!” John cried, throwing his hands up in the air.

“A shite one!” Johnny yelled. “No niece of mine will be named after that fuckin’ badger of a cock muncher!”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” John asked, looking confused.

“Margaret Thatcher,” I said, staring at him.

“. . . Do you know your father, Mike, do you know his nickname from SAS?” John asked.

“No, I dunno none of ‘em,” I said with a sigh.

“I’m not opening up this can of worms,” John said quickly walking away.

“So. . . Are we good now?” Johnny asked from the phone.

“Aye, we’re good. Just don’t tell our parents a thing about me,” I said.

“Understood. . . Simon just got me some Irn-Bru, do you want any?”

“I’m offended that you have to ask. I live with John now, so bring it over.”

“On the way.”

“Oh, by the way, John knows about Dalglish.”

“NOT DALGLISH!”

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