#thank you... sister... I did need that...

[that-one-girl2020]

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader Pt. 4

A/N: Hello all of you. Wow, you all keep popping out of the kpop woodwork but thank you for all the support! I love reading your comments! I decided to post this today since I was able to squeeze it out tonight.

Reminder for people, I can’t tag more than fifty people so the tag list is closed. But, feel free to share outtake ideas in the comments or dm me!

TW: Self mutilation (just scratching on the arms), insecurity, and toxic mentalities (Thanks Celine)

Word Count: 4,457

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, and Abby = Kwan)

That night, as the Saja Boys laid outside the venue for Huntr/x’s fan sign event, there was nothing for them to do but scroll on their phones or talk to each other. Each had a single sleeping bag and only Jinu had a chair to get more comfortable so the boys were a little miserable. But, needs must in war.

“Sooo… who else has been hardcore simping for (Y/n)?” Kwan suddenly asked to fill the quiet.

“Hardcore.”

“Yeah, same.”

“Yes.”

“Obviously.”

There was just something about you that called to them. Maybe it was the way you smiled or the way you laughed without restraint? The way you treated them with normal kindness despite knowing that they served Gwi Ma? The way Gwi Ma’s voice quieted when they were around you? The way you made them feel more human than they had in centuries?

There was more to say between them. Of course there was, they were fond of this half human, half demon girl and they were plotting to destroy her world and kill her sister and her friends. And the moment you told them your weakness, they would have to exploit it to make the Honmoon and the Hunters shatter.

The Saja Boys felt a creeping feeling of despair.

~~~

That morning, you had gotten the girls up and made them something to eat then let the wardrobe and makeup team up. Their outfits were already set out in the living area along with the girls' makeup. The girls hated this part, usually doing their own makeup but it kept appearances up when there was a team doing final checks on their appearances. And pampering them. It also gave more people more jobs.

It was totally chaotic and you caught yourself scratching every now and then before your focus was drawn to something else.

“Okay okay okay, girls, team, everyone down to the cars! Gotta get the venue set up!” Bobby ushered everyone toward the elevator, the girls and you going down first and Bobby would follow with the rest of the team. You were so thankful for a private garage. It kept rabid crowds of fans trek crowding them.

When they got there, they set up the tables and the posters quickly, you making last minute adjustments to their appearance. For fan sign events, you stood behind the girls to get them anything they needed and to take care of gifts the fan gave them to keep room on the table.

Bobby set the last of the posters in front of them as the girls did final stretches and settled into their seats. “All right, team, I know everyone is all Saja, Saja, Saja, but we’re gonna turn it into Huntr/x, Huntr/x, Huntr/x! Yay! These fans slept on the sidewalk, overnight!” He did his best to hype them up.

“And I got all the fuel you guys’ll need to get through the next few hours,” You told them, nodding your head to the box of drinks and snacks you had for them.

The girls did their little circle, cheering each other with their pens, “Happy fans, happy Honmoon!” They whispered.

You took your place behind the girls as the doors opened and the fans flooded in, spearheaded by five people in sleeping bags, “Let’s bring them in! Welcome!”

The five sleeping bags eagerly waddled up to the table despite Bobby’s urging to go in a single file without pushing. You couldn’t help but giggle, it reminded you of the sleeping bag Mira had you design for her for the Met. Maybe they were Mira fans…

“And who should I make this out to?” Rumi greeted them.

“‘To our biggest fans.’”

‘Wait. You knew that sly, antagonistic, pretty voice.’

The sleeping bags dropped and the Saja Boys smoothly posed. Your jaw dropped. Did they really spend all night on the sidewalk just to mess with the girls? Were they that petty? Apparently, yes. Yes they were.

Bobby moved quickly, greeting the boys respectfully despite the interruption and the girls' complaints as they snapped their pens, summoning another table for the boys. But as soon as half the line split to line up in front of the Saja Boys’ table, Rumi stood, “The Saja Boys will sit with us!”

Zoey and Mira protested but the half of the crowd swiftly rejoined the original line as Bobby teared up at Rumi’s genius. The girls rearranged themselves, spreading out though Mira and Zoey clearly didn’t want to.

You couldn’t help the frown you had as Chungae and Kwan sidled up to Mira while Zoey fawned over Hyeon. And Jinu was whispering with Rumi. You did your job, grabbing five more waters from your box to pass out to the boys. It kinda… hurt when they didn’t acknowledge you, you knew they couldn’t, not with the fans and the other girls here, but still. It stung.

You couldn’t help but giggle when Kwan started passing out signed sketch outlines of his abs though.

You blinked and then sighed fondly when Hyeon started barking at a fan for some reason. You bit your lip, you wanted to pull him back but you couldn’t make any contact with the boys like this. You scratched at your arms in stress.

“No!” Zoey hit him with her pen, scolding him, “Bad Saja Boy!”

Hyeon backed down unhappily, pouting as he bit back a growl at the girl. He crossed his arms, sulking. ‘She hadn’t noticed how the fan’s eyes kept flickering up to stare behind them, at you,’ Hyeon mentally growled.

At the same time, Kwan, Mira, and Chungae started fighting over who would sign a fan’s leg cast first. Seeing the huge problem, you grimaced and quickly rushed over since no one else was doing anything.

“Woah, woah, woah,” You waved your arms over them, smiling tensely down at them, “Good idols don’t further injure their fans,” You hissed pointedly though your customer service smile didn’t waver. You shoved Chungae’s pen in his hand and slid the man’s leg over to him first.

”So sorry about any discomfort sir, they were just so excited to sign for you,” You bowed to the fan and scurried back to your place. You made sure to keep a watchful eye on them.

‘Why couldn’t they be like Jum? Jum was just quietly signing the posters and whatever the fans asked to be signed—within reason. Jum is being perfect. Be more like Jum guys.’

Speaking of Jum, he waved you over and you leaned down to offer your ear when he crooked his finger to the squeals of some of the fans. “Do you have any energy drinks? It was a long night on the sidewalk…” He whispered. Your face heated at the sensation of his voice in your ear and his breath fanning over your skin.

‘No! Bad thoughts (Y/n)! Focus on the boy, he wants an energy drink!’

Straightening up stiffly, you didn’t dare say anything because you knew you would stutter and stumble and make a mess of yourself. You smiled and nodded your head, hurrying over to your drink and snack stash. You were not running away from the hot maknae.

Jum couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle fondly as he watched you scurry away to get an energy drink for him. The back of your neck was flushed so he could imagine the flustered look on your face. He hadn’t even meant to, he was just really tired. But your reaction definitely gave him a little bit more energy, at least enough to smile at fans and send hearts at them every now and then. Jinu would owe them big time for this one…

“Here you go, Jum,” His name slipped out without you meaning to but, thankfully, no one seemed to hear you.

Jum took the can with a smile, making sure your fingers brushed as he did, “Thanks (Y/n).”

And then he cracked it open and took a long drink, his throat bobbing with every swallow.

‘Was this fan service!? Run (Y/n)!’

You got out of there as fast as you could. You scurried back to the safety of your drink and snack stash so you could bury your face in your hands until your face cooled down. ‘In front of the fans too…’

You looked up in time to awe over the cutest little girl ever going up to the table with a drawing, her eyes on Jinu. You couldn’t see Jinu’s face as he slowly took the drawing, other fans shouting about how much they loved Jinu.

You blinked, cocking your head in confusion when Rumi suddenly stood, her arms held out to gesture at Jinu, “Isn’t he great? Woo! Jinu, everybody! Yeah Jinu!” Rumi cheered. It set off the crowd of fans, cheering and clapping wildly as they threw bouquets of flowers to each of the Saja Boys.

“‘Woo, Jinu’?” Mira echoed in disbelief. You grimaced, she didn’t sound happy at all…

Jinu then stood, “Unfortunately, the Saja Boys have to run. Thank you, everyone.” The rest of the boys followed his lead.

You stood at attention when Bobby suddenly waved to you, “(Y/n), can you show them to the back exit and call one of the cars around?” He trailed off into muttering about how the boys never had any managers or employees with them, a little disgruntled.

You started to nod when Rumi’s protective streak flared anew, “No!”

Everyone was looking at her.

”Uhhh, I mean, I was gonna ask (Y/n) to get me a, uhhh…” Rumi trailed off, her mind blanking on what to say. The Saja Boys already kidnapped her sister once and put her in danger, she didn’t want them doing it again.

“Some more water! You wanted some more water, right Rumi?” Zoey chimed in, her smile strained as she tried to help.

“Yeah! Yeah, I need some more water!” Rumi agreed quickly. All eyes went to the half full water bottle on the table. She quickly snatched it up and chugged it down. Aggressively.

“Okay… I’ll get you some more water, you can go ahead (Y/n),” Bobby reassured and you smiled awkwardly. There was no getting out of this. Not that you really wanted to get out of it…

“It’s fine, I’ll be right back Rumi,” You reassured your sister before leading the boys to the back as they waved to the fans, “This way.”

As soon as the boys were out of sight of the fans, they sagged with exhaustion, tossing the bouquets out.

You grimaced, and fished them out of the garbage, “Come on guys… I know you guys are tired but, just take some pictures with them later or something, the fans’ll like that…” You knew they were exhausted and probably aching from sleeping on the sidewalk all night but you couldn’t just let them do that right in front of you.

Jinu was quiet behind you, staring thoughtfully at the girl’s drawing in his hand.

“Tired…”

“Too much effort…”

“Can’t do it…”

“Nghhh…”

You shook your head at them, leading them to the back exit as you juggled the flowers in your arms to get your phone and text one of the drivers to come around to the back door.

“Okay, wait right here and one of our drivers will come and take you guys wherever you need to go,” You told them, shoving your phone in your pocket.

You almost fell over when someone’s body weight was suddenly on top of your shoulders, their face resting in the crook of your shoulder. “So tired…” Hyeon groaned. You blushed but couldn’t move before Chungae and Kwan plopped on the ground to lean their back’s against both sides of your legs. Jum pouted, settling with just leaning his head against your arm as all four boys tiredly closed their eyes. You were stuck.

It was like when a cat or a dog deigned you with the honor of them laying in your lap so you didn’t dare shift even a millimeter in the horrible case of you disturbing them. Your muscles were tense and you felt like your legs were going numb but you didn’t dare move.

You looked up flatly when you heard Jinu snickering to himself. “These are your children, shouldn’t you take them?” You hissed at him.

Jinu held his hands up in surrender, “Hey, they like Mama more, that’s not my fault,” He smirked.

The cluster of five people all looked at him in deadpan. Did this guy really just insinuate that he and you were their parents? “Ew.”

Your phone chimed and you slowly shook the boys off, “Alright, car’s here guys.”

They whined but released you and got to their feet. Chungae took your hand in his, swinging them back and forth as he pleaded, “Come with us, wanna cuddle…”

‘Okay, so Chungae got childishly clingy when he was tired. Noted.’

“I can’t, you guys can’t keep kidnapping me. I gotta stay with the girls for this event,” You told him and started herding the boys outside and to the car.

“Fine…” Chungae huffed, mindlessly giving you a kiss on the cheek before he shuffled into the car first, “Bye darling…”

‘Was he really that tired?!’ Your face combusted.

Looks like they were taking turns.

Hyeon was next, taking your hand and pressing a lingering kiss to the back of it before he followed after Chungae, “‘Till next time, princess.”

Kwan wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you in a tight hug and oh gosh. You can feel all his muscles. “See you later, babe.” And then he was climbing into the car too.

Jum approached you with a cool air, but his eyes didn’t meet yours as he took your hand in his and gave it a soft, shy squeeze, “Thanks for the drink earlier, beautiful.” You opened your hand as he climbed into the car to see your favorite candy. Was this gift-giving…?

Jinu tried to hide his chuckle at how red and flustered you were as snores started sounding from the car already. You pouted at him. “You look like the co-host from ‘Play Games With Us!’ after the spicy challenge,” He quietly cackled.

Was your face really that red? You pressed your hands to your cheeks to cool them down, tossing the flowers into the car after the boys. “Shut it, pretty boy,” You grumbled petulantly.

Jokes on him, now he was flustered and blushing. Jinu could dish it out but he couldn’t take it when the flirting was directed at him apparently.

Jinu cleared his throat, looking away from your little smirk as he fumbled with his hands. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Okay. Bye Jinu,” You waved as he fumbled to get into the car as you walked back to the door.

“Uh, byeee, ugh,” he cringed at the way his voice came out. You didn’t get to hear him mutter and groan at himself as he quickly closed the car door behind him and the car soon took off.

You shook your head in amusement at the boys and went back inside to finish the event with the girls.

It was hours later of Rumi glancing worriedly at you out of the corner of her eye until the event finished, Bobby grinning happily at the success of the event.

“Great job girls!” He cheered, circling the table as employees cleaned up the venue. He showed his phone to Mira and Zoey joined to see what it was, “The internet loves this, and the internet is never wrong!”

You looked over their shoulders as Mira snatched Bobby’s phone to go through the stories, “Rujinu! That’s genius.” It was a picture of Jinu and Rumi’s feet touching under the table with the caption, ‘Rujinu?! Playing footsie?!’

Mira tapped through to a drawing of Zoey with a glowering baby Jum in her arms and Hyeon at her side with a beaming smile, “Zoeystery. Where did they come up with that?”

And an edit of Mira with Chungae and Kwan on each side of her, the three surrounded by hearts, “Miro-mabby?” Mira tried to sound out the poly ship name as her fist clenched.

“Aw, you’re so cute together!” Zoey cooed lightheartedly.

Your eyes widened when Mira clicked again and this time it was a collage of Jum whispering in your ear earlier, drinking the energy drink, and you burying your red face in your hands with the caption, ‘(Y/n) is literally us, same girl! I hardcore ship it tho! (Y/n) + Baby!’ With plenty of hearts.

Zoey gasped excitedly, “They even did you, (Y/n)!”

You bit your lip, flushing as Mira turned her head to look at you, “You were blushing over them?” She asked you incredulously.

You stared flatly back at her, “I don’t wanna hear it when you kept watching Abby make those sketches of his abs.”

She shrugged, “Point taken.”

Zoey nodded, “Yeah, fair enough.”

~~~

Rumi didn’t know what to do.

On one hand, she had Zoey and Mira with this diss track, racing towards their goal of destroying all demons and trapping them in the demon realm with Gwi Ma for eternity.

On the other hand, she had Jinu and the constant niggling in her head that not all demons deserve to suffer.

And below it all, the protective determination to protect you, her sister. The faster she completed the Honmoon, the faster her and your patterns would be gone so you both could live normal lives. That’s what she wanted for you.

Rumi couldn’t talk to you about what was going on, you wouldn’t understand. And she didn’t want to freak you out over Jinu knowing about her—and by extension—your patterns.

But she did have to talk to Jinu. Maybe there was hope for him. And if there was hope for him, then there must be hope for you and her.

That’s why she gave the note to Derpy to give to Jinu.

So, early in the morning as the sun was just barely about to come up, she saw Jinu waiting for her. “She wants to meet, and she’s late?”

Rumi couldn’t help but sneak up behind him and land on the wall, making him shriek and flail as he turned and saw her suddenly crouched behind him. “You made me come all the way out here so you could jump-scare me?!” He panted, gripping his chest as he felt his heart slowly come down from the hummingbird speed it had jumped to. (Y/n) would never treat him like this…

Rumi jumped down smoothly, ignoring his question. “Follow me.”

He did. “Well, I’m glad you’re finally ready to talk. Although, you could’ve picked somewhere nicer for a date.”

Rumi faltered, “‘Date’? No! Ew! What are you talking about?”

Jinu pointedly held up the invite she had sent him, reading, ‘Save the Date.’

“That doesn’t mean—“ She sighed frustratedly, “You’re so old. This is strictly a business meeting.” She snatched the invite from him, going back to her walk as he trailed after her.

“Right… I thought you were into your friends. Glad it’s not me,” Jinu mused as he followed the purple haired girl.

Rumi blanched again, “What?! No! No way! I— They— We— Just, just keep your nose out of my love life, okay?! Business. Meeting.”

Jinu held up his hands in surrender, “Okay, loud and clear,” He agreed and the two resumed walking, Rumi with much redder cheeks than she had arrived with.

“What if I told you there’s another way to get your freedom?” Rumi asked him, her face serious and solemn now.

“Go on.”

“Help us win the Idol Awards. Because when we win, the Honmoon will be sealed,” Rumi explained, hopping up onto the wall with a touch to the Honmoon so it glowed out over the city. “And that will guarantee your freedom. Gwi Ma will be permanently cut off, and all the demons will be gone from this world. My sister and I will finally be free of these patterns. No more hiding. No more secrets. You can be on this side when the Honmoon is sealed. Away from the demon world, away from Gwi Ma. You can be free from those voices forever.”

Jinu looked away in consideration. Rumi didn’t know his true story, she thought he had made a deal for his family, when in reality, he made the deal for himself. Besides, her thinking was flawed, even he could see it. She was telling herself comforting lies.

“But I am a mistake.”

Jinu frowned at her words, looking up at her.

“Have been since the moment I was born. So, I have to believe. Because if there’s no hope for you, what hope is there for me?”

After a moment, he couldn’t help but ask, “And your sister? Is she a mistake too?”

Rumi looked down, conflicted. “(Y/n)… I don’t want to think so, I love her. But… if we weren’t born the way we were, maybe she would’ve been able to use the Honmoon like us…” Rumi trailed off softly, unsure and bitter over her own conflicted thoughts and emotions on her sister.

They were interrupted by a middle aged woman offering a bracelet to Jinu to give to his ��girlfriend.’ The two flailed, stumbling over their words until the woman gave Jinu a flat look and Rumi the bracelet with the advice to find a better boy since Jinu was hopeless.

“Well, there’s your answer. Hopeless.”

Rumi gave the bracelet a soft, thoughtful look, “That’s the funny thing about hope. Nobody else gets to decide if you feel it. That choice belongs to you.” She held the bracelet out to offer him, “Here. Think of it as a… friendship bracelet.”

When Jinu took too long to think about it, Rumi turned away to leave with a sigh. “Wait.” He told her, holding his hand out for the bracelet when she turned. She smiled softly and slid it into his hand.

Looking at the bracelet in his hand, he couldn’t help but say, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you or your sister are mistakes.”

Then they went their separate ways.

~~~

It was all getting to be too much for you.

The girls were at the venue for the Idol Awards since early this morning, practicing their performance for Takedown. You had asked Bobby to deliver snacks to girls for you because you were busy running errands in the city. Bobby had reassured you that he would do that while you did your errands—i.e. getting some air.

Since the fan sign event, you had been scratching at your patterns more and more. The Idol Awards were tomorrow and it seemed like you couldn’t escape Takedown whenever you were in the apartment with the girls. It always seemed to be playing, whether the girls were changing lyrics, working on choreography or just rehearsing singing the song.

And the more time you spent with the Saja Boys, the less you wanted the Honmoon to be completed.

Jum pretended to be aloof but he liked to give you little things that reminded him of you. He often found you while you were out running errands just so he could follow you while you did, no matter how boring it was like getting groceries. The both of you had gone back to the cat cafe the other day and had taken selfies on his phone with the cats. He had a whole album of them now.

Chungae came to your balcony most nights to whisk you up to the tower roof balcony. You two would sit and look out over the city, just talking. He would insert a flirty line every now and then to see you blush and rile you up but would always smooth it over with a fond smile.

Hyeon was more of a wildcard. He would find you while you were getting a breath of fresh air at the park or just in the city. Like he had a built in radar for you, he would find you when you felt stressed and he would distract you. He was a little protective though, growling at people he felt were too close to the two of you.

Kwan was starting to make a foodie out of you. He would barge in during random parts of the day when you were alone to drag you off to a new food place he had found or heard about. No matter how bizarre it seemed, he would always try it and you somehow ended up trying it too. He would draw you into little debates, getting you wound up in your bickering until you were laughing with your eyes passionate as you argued your point.

And Jinu was like a ghost fading in and out between all these different interactions. He was probably the calmest besides Jum and Chungae—it was a little weird that those two were the calmest when they were the two youngest of the group. Jinu introduced you to Derpy, his tiger and the little demon bird that always accompanied him. You laughed when he explained that he had made the hat for Derpy but bird kept taking it. Jinu and you bonded over music. You shared modern music with him, not just modern kpop, but jazz, rock, punk, pop, classical, everything you could think of. The two of you would sit under the night sky, an earbud in each of your ears as you listened to music.

You didn’t want to lose the five boys that had somehow wormed their way into your heart, not when they made you feel more safe and seen than even Rumi did. Besides, if even the five boys who were so kind and comforting to you ended up trapped on the other side of the Honmoon, then what hope was there that you would get to stay? In your stress, your patterns have progressed more than Rumi’s has. She could still wear shorts and skirts if she wanted to, even if her arms and neck had to be covered. But you?

Your patterns have progressed well onto your legs to the point where you couldn’t wear shorts or anything that showed your legs at all. The stress was making you scratch so bad despite you taking Jinu’s advice and trying to keep your nails short, that you had to start bandaging your arms under your sleeves to try and mitigate the harm you were unintentionally doing to yourself.

“(Y/n)?” You looked up at the call of your name. Oh yeah. You were trying to get some air so you went for a walk.

Who is it?

(A/N: Vote for who it is here! Can’t post anything until the poll is over!)

Outtakes:

*Before the Series*

You: “You completely wrecked your private jet?!”

Huntr/x: “It wasn’t our fault! It was the demons!”

You: *Pulling your hair out* “That is literally your excuse for everything!”

…

Jinu: *Resting semi-comfortably on a chair* “So…How you guys doing?”

Saja Boys: *Laying on the cold hard cement sidewalk, plotting Jinu’s death* “Shut the f*** up.”

…

Random Fan: “Awww, Mira, Romance and Abby get along so well, it’s so cute!~”

Mira, Romance, Abby: *Currently trying to kill each other*

Other fan: *side eyeing their friend* “Yeah…so well…”

Random Fan: *Manically whispering* “I will die on this ship.”

…

Jinu: “So, you like those other girls, right?”

Rumi: *Bipanic mode activated, blue screen mode activated* “Uhhhh…”

…

Rumi: “Yeah…me and my sister were born as mistakes.”

The Saja Boys, Mira, Zoey: *Ready to fight* “I’m sorry, what?”

Tag list: @brights-place @itmechaosartist @reni502 @chin-chii @cultish-corner @enerofairy @mama-m1na @akariis4snowball @gremlinartstudio @shynotded @shadowmoonlight0604 @omgsuperstarg @neigesprincess @sleep-7372 @hurts-my-brain @kiwibackie @gh0stied3ath @naysha140 @theferretkids @lelantyuu @sexyindependentdowntospendit @hornehlittleweeblet2 @moonymoo1 @moochiwoochi @cheolright @crescent-z @prorpy @mey-archive @cami1qx @nerdalicios @xxsadlovexx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @blackheart34 @anonymousewrites @scarletrosesposts @justanindiangirl12 @beexboo @tatsuri-zomushiki @call-me-nyxx @queenofviolenceandnerds @randomfan218-blog @jaybbygrl @unholycheesesnack @ocean-mochi @iviorienne @confusedparticle @otakusimp1 @nosbaby07 @fries11 @ri-eveowe @1950schick @libdarkheart @yourjustassaneasiamx @the-bookish-artist @anduinandwrathionlover @eternallyrosyfire @lysira340 @lansy-4 @strayharmony943 @maximumtrashchild @bleufu1 @minepugs @valeriele3 @arieslucy @nisarelle @suzieq1948374

[kilojulietsierra]

It Means Family (Dr. Jack Abbot x FemNurse!Reader) Oneshot

Based on this request from @pear-1206 : Jack Abbot x fem reader. She had a younger brother (you can give him a name if you want) who is a bit skeptical toward Jack since he's very protective of her. She had been his guardian since their parents died and he was practically being raised at the Pitt by everyone. Jack is friends with her and helps her with everything until their feelings change toward each other. He accepted Jack as his sister's bf but still held his opinion because he didn't want to see her hurt. After some time, Jack knew that he wanted to marry her and wanted her brother's permission. Maybe a series of attempts of Jack trying to gain it and the boy just messing up with him😆😆. Maybe after he's given it, she asks her brother to handoff her at her wedding. Maybe you can do it in two parts or just a long one shot. Either way, it's up to you. Suggestive, friend to lovers, kisses, etc. Ask me if anything. Tag me later!!! Thanks!!! :))? (I hope I did okay!)

~~~~~~

He had been there the night you got the call.

You wouldn't even have answered it, it had been a crazy night, but after the fifth time your phone vibrated in your pocket you got a sick feeling in your stomach.

You had dropped to the floor in the middle of the ED, your vision blurred, heart rate pounding in your ears. Blurred images of Lena and Ellis running your way, then Jack appeared.

Through your blurry vision and ringing ears you could almost see him, almost hear him saying your name. "Tell me what's wrong."

"They're gone..." It didn't sound like you talking, more like an echo, someone elses voice. "They're gone."

Then it was bereavement leave, a long flight to Honolulu, two coffins, a twenty one gun salute and a folded flag. A house on base you had 48 hours to pack up and clear out. A kid brother well over a decade younger than you that just had the whole world fall out from under him.

Night shift changed to day shift, late nights out with friends changed to school drop offs. Everything changed.

If you had worked anywhere else you weren't sure you would have made it through the first year. Lena, Dana, Bridget and Perlah, every one of them a Godsend. Without them, without Robby, and Cassie, Mateo, Princess, Frank and his wife, without them you would have drown under the weight of all of it.

You had loved night shift, but there was no way to keep that schedule and take care of your brother. You loved Robby, he was a great attending to work with, a great chief, but he wasn't Jack.

It didn't take long for you to start finding reasons to show up early if you could, or stay a little late, just to be on Jacks shift even for a few minutes. He never made a big deal about it, but he did always take the time to check in. If you were okay, if Marcus was doing ok, if you needed anything. "If either of you need anything, don't ever hesitate to ask. Okay?" There was no doubt in your mind that he meant it.

~~~~~~

"Did it hurt?"

"Yeah bud, it hurt. Still does some days." Jack had his pantleg pulled up and Marcus was staring intently at the titanium and fiberglass that made up Jack's prosthesis.

"Marcus!" You hissed at him across the counter.

"He's fine." Jack had turned to look at you over his shoulder with a smile, "Just curious. Nothing wrong with that."

"Sissy, have you seen Dr Jacks fake leg?" Your little brother looked up at you from his seat on the floor, eyes wide.

You had to try not to flush from the embarrassment, "Yeah Marc, I've seen it. It's called a prosthesis though, not a fake leg. Okay?"

Your brother nodded, fumbled over the word, "Prosthesis." He nodded again, "Can I touch it."

"Marcus!" You thought you'd drop dead.

Jack just busted out in a laugh.

"Go grab your stuff out of the breakroom, please." You pointed towards the door, "We need to go." Once Marcus was gone you through a pleading look at Jack, "Dr Aboot, I am so sorry."

He stood up, shook his head with a smile, "Don't be, he's fine. Just wants to know how stuff works is all."

You gave him an apologetic smile and changed the subject, "How's night shift been?"

"We get by, not the same without you though."

"Oh I'm sure." You laughed it off but it spiked your heart rate none the less.

~~~~~

It had felt silly at first. The little crush you had always harbored for Dr. Abbot. Not in any gross or even serious way really. Just... appreciation.

You thought that it would fade after everything and with the switch to days, but instead it seemed to have magnified it. Every moment no matter how brief now had your stomach spinning and your heart racing. You lived for the little moments between shifts and had finally started to admit to yourself that you had started to seek them out. Not just to visit, to catch up with your old team mates, but because it felt good. Exilerhating.

That particular night though, you hadn't meant to see Jack. Honestly you hadn't wanted to see anyone. You had parked yourself on a bench outside the ER, grateful at first that Dana had let you slip out a little early. Then the heaviness had settled over you.

Abbot had seen you, stood and watched for a moment from the ambulance bay before heading towards you. He approached cautiously and his voice was soft, "Hey, everything okay?"

Your stomach dropped. Embarrasment, guilt, something else. "Yeah, yeah, just... needed a minute I guess."

He stared at you. Nothing new. Then he glanced at his watch and the hospital then back to you. His bag thudded on the sidewalk and he groaned softly as he settled into the bench beside you. "Want to try that again? More convincing this time?"

The laugh tasted sour, "Everything's totally fine!" You hadn't realized you had felt like crying until just then.

Jack nodded, a slim smirk at your attempt. "Where's Marcus?"

"Perlah's mom picked him up and took them over for a sleepover."

He nodded again, "That's good. Boys'll have fun."

You nodded in return and swiped at your eyes. "He talked about it all night last night, all morning."

Jack leaned his elbows on his knees and turned to try and catch your eye. "So, want to tell me what's going on?"

"I don't..." You choked out another laugh, "I would if I knew. I don't even know. How stupid is that? I just feel..."

"Exhausted? Alone? Like maybe you don't want to go home to an empty house?"

You turned to look at him so fast it made him chuckle.

"I recognize that look. I know it well."

"How stupid is that?"

"Not at all."

You were both quiet for a long moment before you added, "I don't know how I ended up here. I don't know what I'm doing. I just..."

"You're doing great. Marcus is a good kid. Just need to take care of yourself too." Jack finished for you with an encouraging grin. "Go home and enjoy your night off. Drink too much, watch trashy TV, stay up late." He smiled a little wider at your chuckle. "Or go do something, go out while you have the chance."

You laughed again, harsh and still a little rough, "Go out? You're funny."

Jack grinned a little wider, "Well then go home, enjoy your night off." He stood up and grabbed his bag and then grabbed yours too. He held it out to you and used your grip on the bag to pull you to your feet. Once you finally looked him in the eye, still fighting back the tears, his smile softened slgihtly. There was something else behind it though.

"Next time you have the night to yourself, I'll take you out."

The expression on his face never changed, he just held your gaze, nodded after a moment and then gave you a quick wink before turning away and heading into the ED.

For several long moments you stood there, watching Dr Abbot walk across the street, totally taken off guard.

~~~~~

Before dinner with Jack you thought were going to have a panic attack. You'd paced your apartment, made Marcus and the sitter both stare at you oddly, came up with a dozen excuses to cancel. You only came up with one reason to follow through though; you really, really wanted to.

After dinner with Jack you couldn't even begin to remember any of the reasons you had panicked. When he stopped you a few feet short of your door and pulled you into a kiss you thought you were going to pass out. Your head spun so fast all you could do was hold onto him and hope he could keep you on your feet. Of course he did, strong arms holding you close and keeping you steady. He chuckled against your lips when a little moan escaped and you flushed with embarrassment as he pulled away to look at you.

"Not gonna lie, I've wanted to do that for a long time." He cracked a smile and studied your face as his hands smoothed over your waist.

When you could think straight you nodded, eyes stuck on his lips, "You should have done it sooner."

Jack chuckled again as he settled his lips back over yours and walked you the last few feet to your door. "I'll make it up to you, if you let me."

You moaned again and your grip on his shoulders tightened. You glanced over your shoulder at the door, conflicted, but Jack grabbed your chin and pulled you back to look at him.

He gave you a quick kiss and shook his head, "Not tonight hon." Another longer kiss, and he kept his voice low, "He's gonna have a bunch of questions if I walk in there right now."

"He always has a bunch of questions." You laugh and lean your forehead against his shoulder.

Jack wraps his arms around you fully and chuckles, breath warm against your ear. "Yes he does." He dropped a kiss there, and then selfishly dropped a longer, heated one against the side of your neck. Not pulling away until you shivered and pushed him back. Eye to eye again he gave you that look, the one you knew and loved so well, "We'll figure it out."

You nodded, smiling, heart racing, "Yeah we will."

~~~~~

"How old are you?"

"So old."

"Have you seen Lilo & Stitch?"

"I have not."

"Would you let me have a pet alien?"

"That would depend on the alien I guess."

"We lived in Hawaii. Have you been to Hawaii?"

"Once, while I was in the Army. I've even been to the base your Dad was stationed out of."

"Did you see his boat!?"

"I'm not sure, bud."

"Are you missing any other body parts?"

"Just the leg?"

"Are you a vampire?"

"Would I be out in the middle of the day if I was?"

"Can you make cheeseburgers?"

"Awesome cheeseburgers."

"Have you ever had an actual girlfriend before?"

"Yeah bud, I've had a girlfriend before."

"Have you and Sissy kissed?"

"Yes, your sister and I have kissed. More than once."

"Was it gross?"

"Not even a little bit." Jack was enjoying himself way too much as Marcus bombarded him with questions from the backseat of the truck. More specifically Jack was enjoying the way you were slumped against the window hiding your face in your hand trying not to laugh or cry.

"Marcus, I think that's enough questions." You gave Jack a pleading look, silently begging him to shut it down.

"Dr. Jack said I could ask anything I wanted."

Jack smirked at you, eyes hiding behind dark sunglasses, but you knew they were shining with glee at your suffering. "He's right, that's what I said."

"Are you going to make me eat vegetables?"

"Does Sissy make you eat vegetables?"

"Yes." Marcus mumbled.

"Then yes, I'm gonna make you eat your vegetables." Jack reached across the console and grabbed your hand. He gave it squeeze when you finally looked his way you couldn't help but smile. Jack looked over his shoulder at your little brother, "So, when do I get to start asking questions?"

"That's not fair!"

"Oh yes it is and I think it's miy turn."

~

Jack was sitting at your kitchen counter watching you make a cup of coffee, still half asleep. "What's Marcus up to today?"

You sipped the coffee while it was still hot enough to burn, "Perlah took the boys to some action park thing they just built on her end of town, gokarts, mini golf, all that."

"Should be fun. What's that gonna cost you?" Jack smirked, content to watch you wake up and sip your coffee.

"Five shifts in a row. So, they can take a long weekend." You pushed off the counter and came around like you were going to sit in the stool next to Jack.

Instead he grabbed you gently by the hips and pulled you to him, settling you between his legs with his arms around you. "You sure you don't want me to leave you alone? You can just relax today if you need to."

You let out a grumble, the meaning of it not entirely clear, but the way your weight sunk into him Jack took it to mean he should stay right where he was. It feels good to hold you like this. Head on his shoulder, face buried in his neck, and all of your weight against him with no doubt he would hold you up. "Don't know why I'm so tired," You mumbled into his neck, "Feel like I'm the one that worked last night."

Jack squeezed you tighter, "Why don't you go lay down? No reason you can't be lazy for awhile."

You grumble again, your coffee cup gets set on the counter and then you quietly ask, "Come lay down with me?"

For a second Jack froze, a dozen thoughts racing through his mind. He moved his hands back to your hips and just as quietly he whispered into your hair, "Can do that if you want." He dropped a kiss on the crown of your head and had to bite back a smile when you nodded against his shoulder. "Okay, c'mon."

Before you could stand up straight Jack had a hold of the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up to carry you down the hall. Your arms and legs wrapped around him tight and he was pleasantly surprised when you didn't act surprised, didn't argue or give him a hard time. Just let him carry you to bed.

~~~~~

A few hours later you woke up, warm and comfortable, one of Jacks arms under your head like a pillow and the other wrapped around your middle. When you sighed and shifted deeper into his hold, the arm around you tightened and you felt him press a kiss to the back of your head.

"What time is Marcus going to be back?" He sounded like maybe he had nodded off for a bit as well, his voice rough and raw.

"After lunch sometime. Sent them money for pizza." You couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes. Didn't want to do anything that meant you would have to get out of bed yet. Not when Jack was there with you, finally.

He nuzzled into the back of your hair and kissed you again, "Ready to get up?"

You shook your head and shuffled back, just a little closer to Jack, eyes still closed. "Aren't you normally asleep by now?"

Jack just hummed, spread his one hand wide over your torso, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your shirt. "Took a nice nap." His breath was warm and suddenly directly beside your ear. When you shivered and moved to shift your hips back, his hand moved from your stomach to your hip and clamped down, stopping you. "Stay right there." His grip softened, but his hand stayed put.

In an instant your heart began to race, "Why?"

"Because we're cuddling, and it's nice."

You bit your lip, hearing Dr Jack Abbot say 'cuddle' nearly making you giggle. "Feels good."

Behind you Jack chuckled, something a little extra behind it. "Yeah it does." He chuckled again when you tried to move, "Hon, I said stay there."

When the thought finally occurred to you you chuckled with him, "Dr. Abbot, is something wrong?" "

Jesus." His hand on your hip squeezed harder than he'd ever gripped you, "Yes and that's not fucking helping." Jack let out a painful groan when you freed your hand from your blankets to pry his fingers lose from your hip. Not that you had to try very hard, he let you move him easily, pull his arm back around you again and finally shift your hips back flush with his. "Jesus Christ." He breathed out as both his arms caged you against him.

A shudder ran down your spine, his breath against you neck, his lips, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as he held you tight and the shameless way he caved in ground his erection against your ass. Another giggle escaped you, this one breathy and unsteady.

"Happy now?" Jack teased as his kissed the back of your neck.

"Yes." You shifted back against him again, testing the waters, and smiling when his breath rushed out him. "What time is it?"

He twisted the arm under you so he could see his watch, "Little after ten."

You took a deep breath, building up the courage, your desire doing a lot of the work for you, "I'm not tired anymore."

Jack had always known you too well, and you were so grateful for that because that was all you had to say for him to snap. His hands moved exactly where he wanted them as he coaxed you to turn your head to kiss him. If the kiss hadn't knocked the wind out of you already his words would have.

"You're gonna be."

~~~~

Jack was still there when Marcus came home, changed from his scrubs into the spare jeans and shirt he kept in his backpack. He'd stayed out of sight while Perlah and you chatted by the door, neither of you quite ready for that round of questioning just yet. Or the dozens that would follow.

Your heart did a little flip in your chest when Marcus lit up upon realizing Jack was there. Your brother immediately began to explain in excruciating detail all the excitement of the adventure park and Jack seemed more than content to listen.

You watched from the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower you had taken after spending the last couple hours of your morning in bed with Jack. Your heart flipped again when you heard Marcus ask, "What are you doing here anyway?" No filter, your brother still had no filter.

Jack threw you a look and the tiniest smirk before he answered, "Came by to see your sister after work. Thought maybe I'd hang out here today and we could go out to eat later. Sound okay?"

"Yeah! Can we go to that steak place again?"

"Marc, we don't need to go someplace quite that nice."

"Why not?" He looked at you a little put out.

Jack turned to look at you again, barely holding back a full on smirk, "Yeah hon, why not?."

You knew your face had betrayed your thoughts, because that smug asshole smiled, actually smiled. "Because it's pricey" You snark back at him even as he makes his way around the counter to come stand behind you.

He sets his hands on your hips and pulls you close, "So?" He pries. Then quieter, just for you he adds, "We're celebrating."

"Stop it." You hissed at him, a flush creeping up your neck. You did your best to ignore the feel of him chuckling behind you and turned your attention back to your brother, "We aren't going anywhere until you finish your homework anyway."

"SIssy… It's Saturday." He dropped himself onto the couch dramatically.

"And we made a deal that you could go this morning and have fun if you promised to finish your homework this afternoon."

"But Dr Jack is here, we can go do fun stuff!"

Jack must have felt your deep sigh because he held you a little tighter and kissed the back of your head. He whispered, "If he get's it done can I take you guys to dinner?"

You hummed in thought and dropped your head back against his shoulder, "Ok Marc, how about you get all your work done, and then maybe we can all go to Saltfork for dinner? Seem fair?"

"Can I have the brownie skillet thing!?" He launched back up off the couch with wide eyes.

Behind you Jack full out laughed and all you could do was pinch the bridge of your nose, "We'll see."

He did a little touchdown dance in the middle of the living room and then sprinted to his room.

Once you were alone Jack turned you around and pulled you closer. Stared into your eyes, smirk still firmly on his face.

"You don't have to bribe him to like you, you know? You're like the coolest person he knows." You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder.

"Maybe I just like spoiling you both a little. Ever think of that?" His one hand slid down to cup your ass and squeeze. "Plus, like I said, we're celebrating." He snorted when you bit his chest through his t-shirt.

"Stop being so smug or it's not going to happen again." You mumbled.

Jack smirked, slipped his hand up and under the back of your shirt, warm against your bare skin, "So, you do want it to happen again?"

For a minute your embarrassment kept you silent, but you nodded and spoke into his shirt, "As often as possible."

That must have made him happy because Jack didn't say anything. He simply tipped your face up to his and kissed you. Deep, long, slow kisses that made your pulse skyrocket.

"Eww. Dr. Jack will you help me with my homework?" Marcus had reappeared.

Jack gave you one last kiss and a wink before he pulled back, "Yeah bud, what d'ya got?" He gave your hip a squeeze and then followed after Marcus as the boy ran back into his room.

~~~~~

"Is Jack going to move in?" Marcus asked one night while it was just the two of you eating dinner in the living room, watching Lilo & Stich. A treat for the both of you, acting like bums after a long week and watching a favorite movie. Even if Marcus swore it was for little kids. Never mind he knew it word for word and had watched it a thousand times.

"Jack has his own house Marc, he owns it. He's not going to move into an apartment with us." You fought down the nerves already spinning in your stomach.

"He's here a lot and normally, if you two had been together this long, you'd be living together. Right?" Marcus was a teenager now and you kind of sort of hated it. Raising your little brother was one thing, quote unquote raising your teenage brother was another game entirely.

Jack had been in Marcus's life for years now in one way or another. First as a friend of yours, then as your boyfriend, now it was clear that Jack Abbot was playing a big part in the young man your brother was becoming.

"Maybe." You pause to sip your drink, buy yourself time, "It's not always that simple though."

Your brother is quiet for a minute, watches the movie and shoves a handful of fries in his mouth. "So, are we going to move in with him?"

A week later he had asked Jack the same question. You had to work so Jack had gone to Marc's baseball game on his own. After the game they'd gone through the drivethru for food and while they waited Marc asked, "Would you want Sissy to live with you?"

Jack had a hell of a poker face, but he still nearly let it slip at that. "What do you mean?"

"If It was just you and her? You'd want to live together right?"

"Where's this coming from?"

"Just curious."

Jack thought for a minute, let the truck roll a few more feet ahead in the line. "Would you want to live with me?" He turned the question on the boy.

Marcus stared out the window, "I'd think it'd be kinda cool I guess."

"Don't think it would be weird?" Jack found himself getting his hopes up.

"Do you know how many times I have to explain to people you're not my Dad, you're my sisters boyfriend? It's already weird."

He couldn't help but laugh. Jack nodded a couple of times, "Fair enough."

~~~~~

In the middle of Jacks living room surrounded by storage totes you stood up to catch your breath and squint across the room at Jack, "Do you ever feel like we've been manipulated by a thirteen year old boy that just wanted a bigger bedroom?"

"Not a doubt in my mind." Jack laughs as he sets another tote down. "But," He closes the distance between the two of you and grabs your hips. Pulling you to him by the waistband of your shorts, "Jokes on him, I'm the one getting what I wanted all along."

You let him kiss you, enjoyed the butterflies in your stomach from making out in the middle of the house that would be your house now, not just his. Then you pulled away, "Have you ever lived with a teenage boy? You might regret this."

"I've lived in barracks." He pulls you back to him with a grin, "I've lived in a canvas tent in the middle of the desert, with twenty other dudes barely old enough to drink with no showers and eating MREs for three meals a day." You grinned along with him, while he made his point. "Think I can handle one thirteen year old boy." He sobered a little, eyes scanning your face, "Especially if it means I get you here in bed with me." Jack kissed you again, intention behind it this time as his fingers traced the waistband of your cutoffs.

When his fingers settled on the button you couldn't help but giggle against his lips, "Supposed to be unpacking." You still let your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers combing through the curls at the nape of his neck.

"You're very distracting." He dropped his gaze down to his hands as they popped the button, "Especially in these fucking shorts." His fingers moved to the zipper, pulling it open so slowly.

"So I should probably get rid of them?" You teased, but it came out breathless and jittery as he walked you back towards the couch.

Jack bobbed his head to the side as he moved to kiss you again, "No, but you should definitly take them off."

~~~~~

The number of times you watched Jack over the years, sit down with Marc and talk about anything and everything. Talk through the loss of your parents, missing out on sports team tryouts, girl troubles, trouble with friends, life in general. From the time he was a young boy and barely knew Jack beyond Dr. Jack, Sissy's friend, Marcus had always seemed to see Jack as a source of knowledge and little to no judgement.

Bad behavior that sent you up the wall was nothing to Jack. A simple conversation or at worst a hard look and it was handled. To the point that you wondered what you would have done without him if it had just been you and Marcus.

Then one night while you were out with friends, something you were finally able to do again, Jack got a call. He nearly didn't answer, because he didn't recognize the number, but he was glad he did.

He didn't speak for a long while when he entered the hallway where Marc and his three friends were sat. He simply stared them all down. When he did finally break the silence, it wasn't the sisters boyfriend Jack that spoke. It was former Army NCO Jack Abbot, Dr Jack Abbot. Stone faced he simply said, "Explain."

To Marc's credit he stood up straight, looked Jack in the eye and told the truth. Something that went a long way.

Jack took him home, the drive long and painfully quiet, and when they got home he sat him down at the kitchen to wait for you to come home.

In bed that night you had stared at the ceiling. "At least it was just a gummy. RIght? And it came from a store."

Jack grumbled next to you. You both had lectured him on how dangerous it was to take any substance when you didn't know what it was for sure or where it had come from. Anyone could say they got it from a friend of a friend that was old enough. "He's a good kid, hon. He's smart. He told the truth and that's what matters I think. Just did a dumb teenager thing."

"Thank you for going and getting him."

"Of course."

You moved closer and cuddled into him, "I'm glad he has you."

~~~~~

One morning later that summer you were getting ready for work, watching Jack in the mirror as he slipped on his running blade.

Like always Jack sensed you, knew what you were thinking before you could say it out loud. "Coach told Marc if he wanted to make JV next year he needs to work harder." He stood up and shifted his weight back and forth on the specialized prosthesis. "So, he wants to start working out with me this summer." Jack came up behind you, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. "We'll see how he feels after today."

"Is it weird I think it's kinda sexy when you put that thing on?" You chuckled as he grabbed your hips.

"Yeah, it's weird." He dropped a kiss to the side of your neck, "I like weird though." You elbow him in the side and he only laughs, smacks your ass, "Have a good day, baby."

While he and Marcus jog around the neighborhood Jack can't help but let his mind wander. Half of him paying attention to Marcus talking about being able to take his driving test soon, and that he would need a car. The other half of his mind though, was occupied with a different conversation he needed to have with your brother.

Jack was a little ashamed to admit it took him the whole three miles to build up the guts to do it. They were walking down the street towards the house, cooling off. "Marc, I want to ask you something."

Your brother was still more than a little winded from the run, which honestly made jack feels a little better about himself, "Okay."

"How would you feel if your sister and I got married?" Just get it over with.

Marcus didn't answer right away, when he did it caught Jack off guard. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? Because we love each other, been together for years, because I want to."

"No, I mean," Marcus sucked in a deep breath, "Like, why now? You said it, you guys have been together for like ever."

Jack rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, had to remind himself that to Marcus it was forever. Nearly half the boys life Jack and you had been together by that point. "Honestly bud, you're old enough now that her life doesn't revolve around you like it used to." Jack had always made a point in his relationship with your brother to be as upfront as possible. "You're older now, more mature. When you were a kid I didn't want to get in the way of you and her. That was more important." He didn't know if that made sense at all, to anyone but him.

Marc nodded as they crossed a street and after a few minutes he finally responded, "Is it alright if I don't know how I feel?"

"Of course it is." Jack stopped at the corner, knew that Marcus would follow his lead, "I love your sister, think you know that, and I love you too. It's important to me that you'd be okay with it."

"So, have you already asked her to marry you or something?"

He shook his head, "No, not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. Man to man."

Marcus nodded, "Nothing... nothing would really change right?"

Jack could see that kid in him then, the one that had once upon a time had the whole world ripped out from under him. "Not really. She might take my last name, that would be about it. It'll be easier for her to get my benefits and everything if something happened, but no, life will be pretty much the same."

"If you couldn't marry her? Are you going to get pissed?"

"Don't say pissed, especially around your sister. We'll both get in trouble. No bud, if she doesn't want it I'm not going anywhere."

"So, is this like, if our Dad was alive and you were going to ask for his permission to marry Sissy or something?"

Jack laughed, "Not quite, but sure you can think of it that way if you want."

"What if I said no?"

There was something in the kids eyes that Jack recognized all too well. "Then we're turning around and doing another three miles." Jack shoved him jokingly, "So, don't get a big head."

Marcus laughed as he caught his balance, "I don't know how I really feel about it I guess," He started as the two of them kept walking, "But, I think it would make her happy."

Jack didn't expect the stab of emotion in his chest. "Well, then how about you think on it and we can talk about it again later?"

It took Marc less than 24 hours to come back and tell Jack he thought it would be a good idea and then threaten him that if he broke your heart Jack would have him to deal with. Jack had laughed but nodded, "Understood."

~~~~~~

You had cried when Jack proposed to you, but now you could not quit smiling. Sprawled across his chest you stared at your hand in front of you, the diamond he had put on your finger, smiling.

Jack had one arm behind his head, but his other hand was drawing lazy patterns over your bare back, perfectly content to watch you in that moment. "Maybe I should have asked sooner."

Your eyes snapped back to his, "No, this is perfect." You moved to crawl up to meet him, kiss him, humming happily at the feeling of his two rough, warm hands settling low on your hips and then smoothing up your sides, over your back.

"Yeah?" He asked quietly, lips brushing over yours as he looked up at you, watching you intently.

"Perfect." You lowered more of your weight over him and he wrapped his arms around you, kissed you deeper. "Everything is perfect." You moaned when his hands moved back to your hips, pulling you straddle him. "I'm so happy Jack, you've always made me happy."

Jack nodded, cradled the back of your head and spoke directly against your lips, "Good. That's all I want hon," He paused to kiss you, the love and the meaning behind it bone deep, "Just want to make you happy."

You lost yourselves in it for a moment, kissing and touching eachother, both of you coming to terms with the knowledge that this would be the rest of your life. Jack was finally, officially, going to be a part of your tiny, broken little family. The missing piece that had brought it all together.

Suddenly you laughed, unable to stop it.

Jack grumbled, fingers dug into your hips, "Something funny?"

"I'm sorry." You kissed him, traced his tongue with yours in apology, "I just thought of something."

"Oh yeah?" Jacks eyes were laser focused as you sat up, still straddling his hips, your hands coming to rest on his torso. He let his hands slid down your thighs to rest, "Want to share?"

You bit your lip, "It's slly."

Jack just stared up at you, waiting. "Ohana."

Jack watched you, gently shook his head to say he wasn't tracking.

"Lilo & Stitch?"

Jack furrowed his brow, then shook his head, still confused. Marcus had forced him to watch the with him plenty of times when he was younger. Even still Jack would find the two of you on the couch watching the kids movie. He hadn't really put much thought into it.

"It's us." You shrugged and looked away for a second, "We watched it once, I'd only had Marcus with me for maybe... a month, if even, and I had no idea what to do so we watched movies. Like all the time." You nodded to yourself at the memories, your fingers absently tracing over the lines of muscle and a few scattered scars over Jacks chest and abdomen. "He said one day, ' Sissy! it's us.' and it is. A lost, sad, lonley, little kid, and an older sister just trying to do her best, but has no fucking clue what she's doing. Just trying to do what she can after their parents died. It's even set in Hawaii." You snorted out a laugh, "It's stupid but it was nice at the time, to see that, for both of us I think." You took a deep breath and smiled down at him.

"It means family?" Jack finally nodded, understanding he thought, his hold on you tightening, "It's little and broken, but still good, right? That's what they say?"

You nod, eyes burning again. Jack watches you, his eyes taking in all of you and then the corner of his mouth ticks up, "Does that make me the surfer dude boyfriend? WIth the muscles and the floppy hair that follows her around like a kicked puppy?"

The laugh rips out of you before you can stop it and you smack him across the chest, "I think it does." You're smiling like an idiot again as you stroke your hands over his strong core and chest, trace your fingers over the corded muscles in his arms and then you lean down. One hand combing through the graying curls you loved and your lips brushing over his. "Technically fiance."

~~~~~

It felt strange to be back in Hawaii. The last time you were here was for your parents funeral. So many emotions. You had woke up early, your internal clock messed up, but it gave you an excuse to sit and watch the sky light up over the early morning breakers. Your heart skipped a beat when Jacks arms wrapped around you from behind, his lips brushing over the side of your neck. You dropped your weight back into him, happy to feel him take it easily, keep you standing like he'd always done.

"Second thoughts?" He whispered against your ear, arms wrapped tight around you.

"Not a chance. You're stuck now, no getting out of it."

Jack hummed, a hint of a laugh in it, "Damn." His lips moved down your neck, over your shoulder. He didn't have to see you to know you had rolled your eyes. "Don't have to be up for a long time yet, hon." His hands moved to slip beneath the shirt you had worn to bed.

"Are you telling me to come back to bed?" You couldn't help but smile as you dropped your head back against his shoulder, let yourself enjoy the moment.

"Asking nicely." He chuckled into the side of your neck, "For now.'

"Well," You started, turned in his arms, "Since you asked nicely." You wrapped your arms around Jacks neck and kissed him as you let him take you back to bed.

For a few more hours anyway.

Then he was waiting for you, looking so calm and confident, smiling at you while your heart felt like it was going to rip out of your chest.

Beside you Marcus gave your arm a squeeze, and then he gave you an easy smile. His eyes locked on yours and unwavering. God, there was so much of Jack in him now. The way your brother stood, the way he carried himself, the confidence and certainty on his face as the seventeen year old boy stood in for your father, ready to walk you across the beach and up to the alter.

There had been a time, after that phonecall that had brought you to your knees in the middle of the ED, that you thought your life was over. Far from it you realized, It was just beginning. Sure, maybe your PTMC family was going to be a little annoyed with you when you get back from your "family vacation" and find out you and Jack had eloped, but they'd forgive you. Eventually.

~~ The End ~~

[astarioffsimpmain]

My love 😭🫂 I'm honored to be on your list. 🥹 As I'm sure you know already, you're on mine too!

Thank you, @senualothbrok , for the fic that spoke my heart more than anything else I've ever read: "The Difference" It inspired me to write my own story in a way I didn't think possible until I'd seen it done by you, and thank you for then becoming one of my best friends in the world; always supportive, always kind, always lovely in more ways than you may ever know. You're my sister now, whether you like it or not. 😆💕

I'm thanking @optimisticgrey for her series "All We Have is Each Other" for helping sate my ever fervent desire for isekai and reverse isekai fics, and her other series, "A Song of Love and Loss", for giving me a poly-trio that I never knew I needed in Celeste, Gale, and Halsin. Thank you also for making me laugh when I'd rather cry. ❤️

I'd also like to thank @fanon-and-canon for her fic "For You, My Heart", which is a Halsin/Tav period comfort fic. You and I have talked plenty about our painful periods, and I've reread this fic several times when I'm having a really rough one. Thank you also for your unwavering support and understanding while I'm going through all of my medical bullshit. 🫂

Lastly, I want to thank @brabblesban for her fic "Whither is Thy Beloved Gone?" for giving me the opportunity to widen my scope and understanding of Ascended Astarion, and the difficult, but necessary, journey he could take after becoming the vampire ascendant. I never would have given him a chance without you. And thank you for being my longest friend in this fandom. It was by your encouragement that I continued to write and try to find my place here. 🥹

~

This list will get longer as I continue to read/catch up on fics and series. I'm having a rough go of it, so it may be a while. But I did want to finally finish this post. Love you all ❤️

my dream as a fanfic writer is for one day, one of my fics to be someones comfort fic. like the fic that they reread when they don't feel good and want to be happy. i want my words to comfort someone one day

[hearts4mica]

Hi can you pls make a part 3 of the perfect pretty girl? I really like your stuff!

Stupid with Love

Yan Batfam x Popular (Teruhashi) Reader!

Part 1 Part 2 Masterlist

Batfam finds out about Saiki.

———————————————————————————

———————————————————————————

After a failed attempt on declaring your love to Saiki you ressigned yourself and just decided to sleep the whole afternoon. Afterall you didn’t want to hangout with your siblings on Valentine’s day.

———————————————————————————

7:00pm

The door creaks open and a small shadow from the hall slowly walks into your room.

Damian emerges from the shadows only being seen through your small night light.

Damian was not stupid.

He was Robin, the bloodson of Batman and a detective. Of course he knew you lied.

As much as he wanted to believe you his dearest older sister he had to know every detail about your personal life. It’s not weird if your safety is in danger!

Okay. ‘Throw away’. So he should check your trash.

On top of your trashcan there sat. A small heartshaped pink letter. ‘To Saiki 💙’. Who the hell is Saiki?

———————————————————————————

7:15 pm

Batcave. Minutes before patrol

Damian storms to the batcave where everyone is getting ready. “We have a problem!”

“(Name) was going to confess today to a guy whose name is Saiki! SAIKI!” Damian hands your letter to Bruce and everyone squeezes arround him to read the letter.

To Saiki 💙

That was more than enough to get the whole batfam in chaos.

Bruce was the first to speak. “Babs we need all the information on this so called ‘Saiki’ immediately.” His voice low but demanding. “On it Bats”

“Change of plans tonight. Dick and Tim you’ll go to his house and look for blackmail.”

“Hey why can’t i go?!” Damian whined. “I’m the one who found the card! Why would you trust Drake above me!”

“Damian you’re impulsive. You’re not going and neither is Jason, and it’s final.”

———————————————————————————

Damian’s POV

8:30pm

‘I can’t trust Grayson nor Drake. To not mess things up. I’ll go there myself and look around and have a word with this ‘Saiki guy’.

———————————————————————————

Saiki’s POV

Back to 7:15 pm

This is exactly why i avoided (Name). I now only not just have her stalking me, but now i have all of this city’s vigilantes stalking me around.

I’ll just have to pretend to be asleep. What an annoyance.

———————————————————————————

The next day you woke up to Jason opening your window.

“Jason leave me alonnee it’s too early.!”

“So Saiki huh?”

WHAT?

After quickly getting out of bed and checking your trashcan you were not met with the letter you wrote to Saiki

“Goodluck downstairs”

Damian must have came here last night. That little brat! Always ruining everything.

“Jay. Saiki and i- we are just friends okay?! Just- don’t try to find things between us because there is nothing! And there will be nothing ever!” Did i really just say that? “Please just don’t hurt him. He matters to me.”

“Fine. But if he hurts you-“ “Which he won’t because we’re friends!” “I’ll murder him on cold blood myself.”

———————————————————————————

“He can try.”

———————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you for readiiiiingg!!! Now that i’m oficially on summer vacation i’ll try to post more fics so my request box is opeeennn!!

Masterlist

[slut4kwon]

if you were anyone else

pairing: kwon jiyong x fem! reader

synopsis: you’re his best friend’s little sister. it was never supposed to mean anything, but now he can’t forget the way she looked at him like it did. and that’s the problem. because wanting her was already a mistake, but letting her go might be worse.

warnings: 18+, implied sexual content, swearing, angst, secret relationship, brother’s best friend trope, emotionally repressed men™, jealousy, regret, unresolved feelings, possessive behavior, emotionally charged spirals, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, slight praise kink, yearning so intense it physically hurts.

authors note: this is my first time posting on here, so… go easy on me. or don’t. i probably won’t sleep either way. also this is long as fuck i am so sorry. if you read it, thank you. if you liked it, even better. if you’re here just for the angst, me too.

you should’ve known it would get messy the first time he kissed you.

it wasn’t sweet. it wasn’t slow.

it happened behind the wardrobe rack in one of the yg dressing rooms, thirty minutes before a run-through while the crew scrambled to fix a lighting issue.

you were in a sports bra and sweatpants, makeup half-finished, second-day curls falling effortlessly down your back.

he was in his usual all-black rehearsal outfit, a silver chain at his collarbone, and something unreadable behind his eyes.

“you’re not supposed to look at me like that,” he muttered, jaw tense, gaze fixed on yours.

you crossed your arms. “i’m not looking at you like anything.”

he stepped in closer. “you keep doing those little moves. the ones you know drive me fucking crazy.”

“you mean the choreography?” you shot back, lifting a brow. “i’m literally just doing my job.”

“that thing in the second chorus,” he said, his voice lower now. “when you drop low and bite your lip. you do that for me. don’t lie, beautiful.”

you rolled your eyes, but your breath caught when he moved again. closer, slower, deliberate.

“you want me to lose it, don’t you?”

you didn’t answer. couldn’t.

because the way he looked at you was hungry. frustrated. like he’d been holding something back for far too long. it lit something dangerous inside you.

before you could even speak, his mouth was on yours.

hot. desperate. possessive.

your back hit the wall. his hands gripped your waist.

your fingers curled into his shirt like it was an instinct.

his tongue, his hands, the way he groaned when you tugged his hair. everything about it was messy.

and it didn’t stop there.

the backstage hookups became a pattern. between rehearsals. after fittings. corners of the studio with fogged mirrors and locked doors.

always hidden. always rushed. always too much but somehow never enough.

you gave him your first time on the studio couch, the same one you always collapsed on after long nights.

not out of romance, but something heavier. needier.

your legs wrapped around his waist. your fingers in his hair like you were clinging to gravity.

and he let you.

let you take. let you tremble.

let you come undone in his lap while his mouth traced your collarbone like a promise he’d never speak out loud.

no one knew about this.

not the stylists. not the other dancers. not even his own bandmates.

and especially not seunghyun.

your older brother would’ve lost his mind. maybe even burned the whole building down if he ever found out.

because of course, out of all the people in the world, it had to be him.

kwon jiyong.

his best friend. his closest friend.

the one person who had no business even looking at you like that; let alone touching you, wanting you, needing you.

and yet somehow, he was always there.

for months, you told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

that the way he touched you like he needed you — like breathing wasn’t enough unless you were under him, around him, full of him — was just part of the act.

that the way he lingered after, brushing hair from your face like it mattered, wasn’t real either.

you told yourself you could handle it.

that you were strong enough to keep it casual. quiet. hidden.

but it got harder to lie every time he pulled you in and didn’t let go.

every time he stayed a little longer.

every time he looked at you like maybe, just maybe, you were more than a secret.

still, you never asked for more. how could you?

he was your brother’s best friend. this was never supposed to happen.

but it did.

over and over again. like a bad habit neither of you could quit.

you didn’t plan to fall for him. didn’t mean to hope he’d stay the night, or kiss you like it meant something.

but you did. god, of course you did.

i mean, how could you not?

he touched you like you were fragile, but fucked you like you were the only thing that’s ever made him come undone.

he zipped up your jacket for you like it was just an excuse to touch you again.

he continuously found your eyes across any room like they were the only ones that existed.

for a while, you let yourself believe he felt it too.

until about a month ago, when he decided that pretending it meant nothing became easier than admitting it ever meant anything at all.

it happened in your dressing room. you’d just touched up your lip gloss, and casually asked him if he was coming over that night.

same routine. same rhythm.

he didn’t answer right away though. he just stood there, still and silent.

you turned, confused, watching the way his jaw clenched and how he couldn’t quite meet your eyes.

“jiyong?” you spoke up quietly.

he finally looked at you.

and you knew. before he even opened his mouth, you felt it.

“we can’t keep doing this.”

your stomach still dropped. “what?”

“this… whatever it is… it needs to stop.”

“don’t do that. don’t act like this wasn’t real.”

his jaw tightened as he looked away. “it was a mistake.”

“say it and mean it,” you snapped.

he didn’t hesitate this time. “it was a mistake.”

your laugh came out sharp, bitter. “tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, but don’t stand there and pretend that i didn’t mean a damn thing to you.”

“y/n—” he started, but you cut him off.

“fuck you, jiyong.”

he met your eyes again, his throat tight.

almost like he wanted to say something else. like it was stuck somewhere between his ribs and his pride.

but he didn’t answer. he just let the silence grow between you.

let it choke everything that hadn’t been said. let it mean more than the truth would’ve.

“i’m sorry.” he finally said.

not a reason. not an explanation.

just that. two words. and then he walked out.

no goodbye. no chance to respond. no space to fall apart.

just the door clicking shut behind him like none of it had ever meant anything. like you had never meant anything.

the worst part wasn’t even the way it ended.

it was how nothing else did.

rehearsals still ran long. the mirrors still fogged with sweat. the playlist still cycled through the same tracks you used to hum when you thought no one could hear you.

he was always there. of course he was.

not in the way that mattered though. not in the way you needed. just in the way that somehow made it worse.

that same smirk. same swagger. same easy charm that made everyone else feel like nothing had changed.

like he hadn’t ruined you with nothing but his mouth and a handful of whispered promises he never intended to keep.

he still showed up to rehearsals like none of it ever happened.

he still carried his favourite hoodie. the one he never left home without.

everyone thought it was a comfort thing; a habit, maybe. something worn-in and familiar. assumed he just loved it.

and maybe he did. but it wasn't because it was warm, or soft, or broken in just right.

it was because it was yours.

he never carried it for himself. he carried it for you.

you never brought your own.

you hated feeling cold, and hated asking for help even more.

but with jiyong, you never had to ask. he paid attention to the way you’d rub slow circles into your arm, tuck your hands under your thighs, sometimes even press your tongue to the roof of your mouth just to stay quiet.

tiny things. things no one else could ever pick up on.

and yet somehow, he always did.

you never had to ask. he’d just offer it. sometimes with just a glance, sometimes with a soft, “here.”

and if you ever hesitated, he’d pull it over your head himself. like he was allowed to. like it meant something.

the other boys never questioned it. of course they didn’t. they would’ve done the same. they had before, on the rare days jiyong wasn’t around. but when he was, they never got the chance.

but now, he wears it again like it doesn't hold your scent. your shape. every version of you he ever pulled close. like it's just a hoodie.

however, this didn't stop you from showing up to rehearsals every day too.

because that’s what professionals do, right?

they show up, even when it hurts.

even when the person they can’t stop dreaming about is stretching ten feet away.

still laughing with everyone like he wasn’t one secret away from getting his jaw broken by your older brother.

there was no wreckage. no huge fall-out. just absence.

no one knew what had been taken because nothing, on the surface, was missing.

but you felt it. in every glance he didn’t give you. every touch that didn’t happen, but almost did.

and you were angry.

angry that he ended it without warning. angry that he made that decision for the both of you. angry that he could walk away without looking back.

you were angry at yourself for still caring.

you hated that your eyes searched for him when you entered the room. that your skin remembered him better than your brain wanted it to. how some part of you still wished he’d turn around and take it all back.

but he never did. not once.

rehearsal had run longer than usual today. the sun had dipped somewhere behind the city skyline without you noticing. shadows were now stretching across the floor as the studio emptied, one by one.

you stayed behind, stretching in silence, letting the burn in your muscles distract from the burn in your chest.

you suddenly heard your brother’s loud voice, which snapped you out of whatever trance you were in. “dinner. let’s go.”

you didn’t even blink. still stretched out on the floor, one leg bent and arms braced behind you. “pass.”

seunghyun frowned. “you didn’t even ask where.”

“don’t need to,” you said coolly. “you’re painfully predictable.”

daesung raised a brow. “she’s got you there.”

“actually, i’m switching it up tonight,” seunghyun insisted. “new place. no kimchi stew.”

you finally looked up, unimpressed. “who’s paying you to try their new restaurant?”

he crossed his arms. “no one. i just think you need some real food in you. something with protein. maybe even a vegetable.”

“tempting,” you said, standing up and stretching your arms over your head. “but i can’t. i’ve got plans.”

“plans?” seunghyun’s voice cracked like he’d just heard you say you were moving out and never coming back.

you grabbed your water. “yep.”

“what kind of plans?”

“the kind that don’t include you,” you said, smiling sweetly.

youngbae’s head popped up from behind his duffel. “wait. are we talking… plans plans?”

you just sipped your water like it was nothing, which, naturally, made it something.

daesung narrowed his eyes. “that look. that’s a ‘plans with a boy’ look if i’ve ever seen one.”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. it was more entertaining to watch them spiral on their own.

youngbae gasped. “you’re going on a date.”

“jesus christ,” seunghyun muttered. “no you’re not.”

“i didn’t say that,” you replied, smoothing your hair down.

“but you didn’t not say it.”

you gave the smallest shrug, which, unfortunately, said everything, once again.

youngbae gasped like he’d been betrayed. “you’re seeing someone? since when?”

“relax,” you said, throwing your towel over your shoulder. “you’re acting like i announced an engagement.”

“it’s hard to relax when you’re acting suspiciously vague,” daesung countered.

“which means it’s serious,” youngbae added while nodding. “you’re protecting him.”

you raised a brow. “or i’m protecting you idiots from a full-blown meltdown.”

seunghyun squinted. “who is it?”

“none of your business.”

“it is absolutely my business if some dude is out here making googly eyes at my baby sister behind my back!”

“googly eyes?” you echoed, half-laughing. “what are we, twelve?”

“i’m being serious, y/n.”

“i can tell, oppa. very intimidating.”

“is it someone we know?” daesung asked. “because i feel like it’s someone we know.”

“you don’t know him.” you replied, which wasn’t technically a lie.

there was no him. but they didn’t need to know that.

especially not the one sitting on the bench near the mirror, completely silent.

jiyong hadn’t said a word. hadn’t even moved.

just sat there with his towel around his neck, and his eyes on the floor.

but you saw the tension in his hands. the way his jaw was set so tightly, it looked like it hurt.

and it gave you just enough fuel to keep going.

seunghyun was still spiraling. “i don’t like this. what if he’s some asshole? what if he’s just trying to—”

“then i’ll deal with it,” you replied calmly. “i’m perfectly capable of throwing hands.”

“still don’t like it.”

“you’re not supposed to, oppa.”

and that’s when jiyong spoke. low. dismissive. deadly.

“just let her go.”

everyone turned.

seunghyun blinked. “huh?”

“if she’s got plans, she’s got plans,” jiyong said. not looking at you. not looking at anyone. “it’s not our business.”

“oh, wow,” daesung muttered. “traitor.”

“you’re not even gonna try to talk her out of it?” seunghyun asked, almost sounding dumbfounded.

“she’s allowed to do whatever she wants,” jiyong replied, tossing the towel aside like the whole conversation bored him. “if it’s a date, then…let her have fun.”

you said nothing. you just stared at him.

and after a long second, he finally looked up, just for a heartbeat. just long enough to meet your eyes.

and there it was. buried under all of it; jealousy. regret. hurt.

only things that you could see.

the things he couldn’t say. the ones you never needed him to.

so you smiled, small and sweet.

“thanks for your support, jiji.” you said sweetly, using the nickname you rarely used for him anymore.

he didn’t answer, but you didn’t wait for one either.

you grabbed your bag and threw it over your shoulder.

“anyways, don’t wait up!” you shouted, turning and blowing a kiss towards the boys as you walked towards the door.

youngbae clutched his chest. “she’s so going to make out with him.”

“i’m gonna vomit,” seunghyun muttered.

you walked out giggling without looking back.

jiong didn’t move. didn’t even blink. just stared at the door like it might swing back open and undo all of it.

it didn’t.

he noticed the tremble in your hands as you reached for your bag. it was faint, almost invisible. the kind of shake that came when your body had given too much.

he always noticed.

it was a curse. a reflex. a silent devotion to you that he never meant to make a habit.

you were clearly overstimulated, vibrating underneath your skin. and no one else seemed to care.

but he did. he always did.

the boys were still talking. still laughing, but their voices echoed as if they were underwater.

daesung was teasing seunghyun about running a background check. youngbae was already trying to guess the date’s name. one of them joked about texting you the restaurant address ‘in case lover boy stands you up.’

jiyong didn’t laugh. he couldn’t.

because the silence left in your absence was louder than anything. and beneath it, something ugly twisted in his chest.

he knew you weren’t dressed for a date. your hair was wild, your face was bare, still glowing with sweat and adrenaline.

you didn’t look like someone trying to impress a man, not that you needed to. you just looked like you. the version jiyong had memorized in the low light of his apartment, curled into his sheets, still trembling from his mouth on your skin.

and somehow, that made it worse.

because what if this new guy didn’t care enough to notice the small things jiyong had?

what if he didn’t realize how you go quiet when you’re overwhelmed, not out of moodiness, but because your brain shuts down under too much noise?

what if he didn’t know how sometimes you can’t ask for help, because you don’t even know what you need?

what about that you chew the inside of your cheek when you’re anxious? or that you tap your thumb against your middle finger three times when you’re trying not to cry?

would he know that you hated the sound of ticking clocks? that certain words made your skin crawl? that sometimes, dancing was the only thing that kept your thoughts from devouring you whole?

jiyong did. he knew all of it.

he knew how to sit behind you on the studio floor when everything got to be too much; legs stretched out on either side of you, chest pressed against your back.

he knew not to ask what was wrong. he knew that you didn’t always know, and that asking only made it worse.

just to let you press your ear over his heart and listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat until your lungs remembered how to breathe properly on their own again.

he knew the hoodie he always carried for you was your lifeline when you needed comfort. which songs made you cry even if you didn’t quite know why.

he knew you couldn’t sit in the backseat of a car because it always made you nauseous. which corners of your body held tension so tightly, you didn’t even realize they hurt until he pressed his fingers there.

he learned you like a prayer. a warning. a song that never stopped playing in the back of his head.

and now, someone else might get to touch you. might get to pretend they know you. run their hands down a body they hadn’t earned. kiss a mouth that didn’t belong to them.

and jiyong fucking hated that.

because yeah, it started as just sex.

reckless. rushed. hidden in between rehearsals and outfit changes. in cars, stairwells and hotel rooms too quiet for what the two of you were doing.

but it stopped being just sex a long time ago.

he didn’t know when exactly it shifted. maybe it was the first night you told him not to ask, but to just take. when you grabbed his wrist and pulled it to your throat. when you told him to ruin you.

or maybe it was the one night he didn’t.

the night he slowed down.

held your jaw in both hands like you were made of glass and kissed you like he had something to lose.

told you how fucking perfect you were. how you take him so well. how you were made for him.

you came apart for him like you believed it. like you needed it.

surely that’s when he realized it wasn’t just sex. at least, not anymore.

because you didn’t just let him have your body, you gave it to him. not with words. not directly.

in the way you trembled under his touch. in the way you arched into his hands. in the way you moaned his name like it meant something.

and fuck, it did. it meant everything.

he memorized you. not just the way your thighs shook when you were close or the spot beneath your ribs that made you gasp when he kissed it for the first time.

he knew your body better than he knew his own.

he memorized the curve of your spine. the pitch of your moans. the shape of your mouth when you were too fucked-out to speak.

he knew exactly where to touch to make you fall apart, but also exactly how to hold you when you couldn’t put yourself back together.

he hated himself for it.

for needing you. for learning you. for turning every sound you made into a song he couldn’t stop humming in his own head.

because the more he gave, the more he wanted. and the more he wanted, the more it hurt.

he told himself that ending it was the right call, and maybe it was.

maybe it was smart. you were seunghyun’s little sister, after all. this was doomed from the moment it started.

but god, he missed you.

you were the only one he ever let see him for who he really was, and now you were gone. and he has no one else to blame for that but himself.

his thumb pressed into the palm of his opposite hand; hard. a grounding technique, one that you taught him. one that never worked unless it was your voice talking him through it.

he barely felt the pain.

he just sat there, spine tense, gaze still locked on the scuffed floor where you’d been standing just a few moments ago.

the room still buzzed with conversation. low laughter, the rustle of jackets, someone still talking about dinner plans.

but it all felt far away. almost like he was watching it through a sheet of glass that was thick and smudged with fingerprints.

he didn’t hear what they said. he didn’t care either.

because all he could think about was the look on your face before you walked out.

not happy. not angry. not sad either.

he honestly wasn’t quite sure, and that scared him a little.

he remembers how you used to look at him. like you saw through everything; the ego, the performance, the chaos.

that was because you did, and yet, you still chose him.

every. single. time.

but now, you didn’t even look back.

“hyung?” daesung said cautiously, tone lighter than his expression. “you good?”

jiyong blinked like he was waking up from a dream. “what?”

“you’ve been kinda weird lately,” youngbae said from behind him. “and not just today either.”

“yeah,” daesung added. “like the last few weeks.”

jiyong exhaled through his nose, forcing a shrug. “just tired.”

seunghyun looked up from where he was zipping his bag. “ji.”

jiyong flinched like his name stung.

“talk to us,” seunghyun said, voice low, less like a demand and more like a plea. “we’ve been worried. you don’t laugh the same anymore. you barely show up.”

“i’m fine,” he said, sharper this time. like if he said it hard enough, they’d believe it.

“we’re not trying to push,” youngbae said gently. “we just miss you, man.”

jiyong’s throat was tight. he couldn’t look any of them in the eye.

“i’ll see you guys later,” he spoke suddenly, already halfway to the door.

“what?” daesung called after him. “you’re not coming to eat?”

“not hungry.”

seunghyun took a step forward. “jiyong—wait.”

but the door was already closing behind him.

and just like that, he was gone. his feet moved without thinking.

down the hallway, out of the building, and into the night.

but on the inside, he was somewhere else entirely.

back in the dressing room. back in your bed.

back in that goddamn moment where you looked up at him like you were his, even though you both knew you weren’t.

he can still feel it.

the weight of your body curled under his. your nails in his skin. his name on your tongue.

the breath you let out when he called you sweetheart like it meant something.

the quietness afterwards that felt like a promise, even though neither of you ever made one.

it should’ve faded by now.

but it hasn’t. it’s still there.

in the way his chest tightens when someone says your name.

in the way his hands curl into fists when he pictures you laughing with someone else.

in the way the silence feels heavier when you’re not around to fill it.

and now, he has to act like it didn’t happen. like it didn’t mean anything. like you didn’t mean everything.

he hates himself for how much he still cares.

hates that he let it get this far. that he let you in. that he let it mean something.

but more than anything, he hates that he can’t stop hoping it meant something to you, too.

because no matter how far he lets you go, he will always believe that no one else will ever have you in the way that he did.

and maybe that makes him selfish.

but it also makes him right.

[goddamnitmahtin]

All in Your Head

(a dc x dp au)

Bruce: *shaking Harley’s hand* Thanks for coming to see me on short notice.

Harley: It’s no problem. I didn’t have plans today.

Bruce: *leads her to the sitting area, sitting in an armchair*

Harley: *sits across from him* What’s going on Bruce? Is it system stuff? I thought you all were doing pretty okay last session. All things considered.

Bruce: I thought so too but…. I found another voice or alter I guess? And I don’t know when he got here. If he’s been here the whole time or if maybe I got stressed out and split? I dunno.

Harley: *nods* Both are possible… your split tolerance isn’t the best Bruce. What do you know about this new alter so far?

Bruce: He says his name is Danny and that he’s 15. *shrugs* I don’t know what he looks like. Matches says that he looks the way we did in high school but sometimes he’s a ghost. I don’t even know what that means.

Harley: *writing down notes* So he’s a non human alter. This wouldn’t be the first one you’ve had.

Bruce: *thinking about the dark shadow person with bat ears that crawls around on the ceilings in headspace* I’m aware…

Harley: Is Danny close to front right now? Is there any way we can communicate with him?

Bruce: *trying to check* Um… no. But B is near front. He says he’s gonna look for him.

Harley: *smiles* Your gatekeeper is very responsible.

Bruce: *sighs* I do not know what I would do without that guy- I would not be able to handle our kids- *dissociates*

Harley: *waits patiently*

Bruce: *realizes someone is trying to switch* Gimme a second-

Harley: Take all the time you need.

*a few moments pass in silence*

Danny!Bruce: Someone asked for me?

Harley: *smiles, holding out a hand* I’m Doctor Harleen Quinzel. I am assuming you are Danny?

Danny!Bruce: *sits up excitedly* Oh my god lady- you gotta help me- I possessed this rich guy thinking I could lay low for a bit while my core healed but now I’m stuck in here and there’s like a lot of dudes in here and some sort of bat shadow thing? It’s scary as fuck- I just wanna go home-

Harley: *calming voice* It’s okay Danny. You are probably a little confused about your situation.

Danny!Bruce: *groans, his face in his hands* I just wanna go home…

Harley: *assuming Danny is talking about false memories* Why don’t you tell me a little bit about that? What you remember before joining the headspace?

Danny!Bruce: I live in Amity Park. It’s a pretty secluded area. I have a mom and dad and a sister named Jazz. I’ve got two best friends, Sam and Tucker. Literally where am I right now- because this isn’t Amity Park.

Harley: You are in a city called Gotham.

Danny!Bruce: Fucking Gotham!? Holy Cheerios, no wonder this guy’s brain is so weird…. This place is practically as volatile as Amity Park. This also explains the huge amounts of ecto in some of these kids-

Harley: *frowns* Ecto?

[jaimebluesq]

*cracks knuckles* I hope you don't mind me adding to the SangCheng agenda, as an avid participator in it :-p

What existing problems does the ship solve?

It gives JC a connection to Qinghe Nie, the only great sect he doesn't have a connection to in some way via his sister and nephew (Lanling Jin) and martial brother (Gusu Lan).

End of canon - it gives JC one of the few people left alive who knew him before he was sect leader. This is huge because his optics changed so much during the time skip for Yunmeng Jiang to be the sect you don't mess with. Most of the people who knew JC the boy are dead - but NHS is one of the few who still remembers him as Emperor's Smile and peanuts and *innocent*.

Post NMJ death - it gives NHS someone steady in his life who reminds him of his brother, and someone who knew *him* before he became the Headshaker.

Even though their methods of expressing it are very different, they both have strong senses of duty to their clan and family.

What new problems does the ship create?

Post-canon - not only did NHS' (alleged) machinations put Jin Ling in trouble, but NHS is (allegedly) responsible for WWX's return. The extent of which we don't know from canon as even WWX is trying to make links from limited knowledge, though fics have tons of fun exploring that. This will be a huge obstacle for them to overcome.

Timeskip/Post-canon #2 - As someone who knew NHS before he was the Headshaker, did JC ever suspect something was off? Like a moment of "you can't make a decision without crying over JGY or LXC, but I remember you catching birds and strategizing how to cheat on tests, don't you tell me you can't handle this". Not to mention being fellow sect leaders with someone who's seen you drunk off your ass and looking at porn XD

Because both have such strong ties to their families, it's hard to imagine them spending much time away from them - not impossible, but definitely a challenge.

Their personalities can clash as much as they can complement each other - duty bound and serious JC vs lackadaisical spoiled-rotten NHS.

Overprotective sects - depending on the author's take on the sects... Qinghe Nie has been participating in the spoiling of NHS alongside NMJ, so if you want to be with him, they need to like you. Similiarly, JC has risen his sect from the ashes and these disciples are *his* - and they have a reputation for not being ones you should mess with, particularly if you try to court their sect leader ;)

What in-law drama does the ship cause?

They each have a beloved older sibling who practically raised them (JYL & NMJ), whom they look up to, worship, and adore above all others - and against whom significant others might be consciously/unconsciously compared.

NMJ. Has spoiled his didi rotten, so if you want to court him, you'd better prove yourself damned worthy of it - or else you have to face him and Baxia.

WWX. (Pre-timeskip) What happens when your porn-sharing bestie gets together with your little martial brother? Do you give your bestie a shovel talk, or just be thankful someone you know and like is sharing your didi's time (and therefore less likely to get between you)?

JFM & YZY. Omfg, like JFM would probably not blink if he even notices, but can you imagine YZY's reaction to the idea of having NHS as a son-in-law?! (*coughs and hides my fic where she's the one trying to set them up*)

Nie family. In an AU where the 3 Nie parents live, JC has to face not one but *two* mothers-in-law - one of whom birthed the powerhouse NMJ, the other who birthed the mastermind NHS. Tremble, JC XD

call for propaganda

looking to advance from the golden core brainrot stage to the nascent soul brainrot stage - in other words, looking to get into more jiang cheng ships lol

everyone please respond with propaganda for your favorite jiang cheng ship

for maximal propaganda effectiveness please follow this format:

what existing problems does the ship solve?

what new problems does the ship create?

what in-law drama does the ship cause?

imo an ideal ship has content for all 3 questions

please and thank yew

[garbinge]

SHOULD'VE BEEN (2/?)

Andrew Pope Cody x F!Reader Deran Cody & Platonic!Reader Barry 'Baz' Blackwell & Sister!Reader // Word Count: 23.6k (I KNOW OKAY I KNOW) Summary: As you navigate Baz's death, your mind finds itself searching the past for ways to cope. Previous Part Reader is Baz's biological sister. With that being said, I left out physical descriptions outside of a scar on reader's face from backstory. If you catch any, always feel free to let me know and I'll edit! Reader also is (was) a doctor. Due to this, reader has a nickname which is used throughout the fic. In this fic - Pope did not kill Cath. Also, I made all the Cody boys + Baz + Reader closer in age than in canon. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Canon-level violence. Canonic character death. Mentions of being drugged/slipped something. Hazing. Bullying. Grief. Mourning. Loss of a sibling. Blood. Telling a child about parental death. Mentions of domestic abuse, Semi-graphic descriptions of wounds + violence. Psychologically difficult themes, yearning, angst, hurt/comfort. No use of y/n. SMUT with main character, insinuated smut with a non-canon character. Not really a happy ending? A/N: Okay so I will be writing another part that i already have a bunch of ideas on LOLOL. I just... live for these characters in this world. The dynamics are so ajkfhglkjdfhbljkhgka!!!!!

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 8:07AM

This is Tri-City Medical, we’re calling because you’re the emergency contact listed in Mr. Barry Blackwell’s phone. He was brought into the emergency department about 10 minutes ago. If you could just give us a call back as soon as possible, thank you. 

You didn’t call back, just rushed to the hospital. Traffic laws be damned, ran through traffic lights, through stop signs, you left your bike parked in between two cars, not even in a spot, before you were rushing into the ER. 

They brought you to where Baz was, he was on the operating table, you stood in the observation deck. Your arms across your chest, your left hand resting against your mouth, gnawing at your finger as you watched them insert tubes, IVs, blood bags. 

“Did you check if the bullets went through and through? If they did they should insert two chest tubes,” you turned to the doctor who was standing in the second aisle of the room. 

There was no answer, they just looked up from their notes at you and then back on the screen that was showing the internal cameras searching for the bullets. 

“They could have moved, if they hit his lungs they could have gone anywhere in his abdomen, they should be checking his abdomen!” You turned again, looking at the doctor who this time didn’t even look up from their notebook. “Are you listening to me?!” You screamed at them this time, tears pouring from your eyes before they jumped back to the window. Your brother, completely unconscious, tube in his mouth, cut open like a chicken on the operating table. 

“C’mon Baz,” you mumbled through a panicked breath. “C’mon.” 

“Ms. Blackwell, we’re gonna need to ask you to step into the waiting room.” Someone opened the door to the observation room and spoke low to you. 

“No, no, I’m watching.” You pointed at the surgery.

“You really shouldn’t have been here in the first place,” her voice was still low and polite, but you saw her eyes jump to the other doctor in the room. 

“No, it’s okay. See, I used to be a doctor, I–I don’t practice anymore, I can’t–but they brought me here because I knew–I know what’s happening.” You were fumbling, stuttering over your thoughts. 

“Ms. Blackwell,” the nurse opened the door wider. 

It was then that you heard the monitors beeping. Baz’s heart rate dropping, it wasn’t crashing just yet, but you felt your gut twist. “No, no, Baz c’mon. Pull it together. Pull it fucking together.” You spoke through gritted teeth. 

Before anything else could happen, there was a hand on your arm, pulling you back. You fought it, thrashed against it a little. “Stop, no, stop, that’s my brother, he’s my brother. I’m a doctor!”

As you sat in the waiting room, tears stained down your face along with mascara, your leg shaking in nerves, you kept gnawing at your finger. You weren’t sure if you thought about it, or if your mind was just on auto-pilot but you had your phone in your hand, the voicemail transcript was the first thing you saw as you unlocked it. The lump in your throat grovelled as the words sat in your head. The worry next to it knowing Baz was in this same building on the last thread of life. 

Without a second thought, your phone was ringing and you held it to your ear. You heard the phone pick up and before the other person could answer you spoke through cries. 

“Pope?” 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was littered with concern. 

“I need you.” 

That’s how you wished it went. That whole scenario was how you imagined it went as the police officers informed you and Pope of Baz’s death as you stood in the driveway at Smurf’s house. 

Pope’s eyes were glued to yours as the officer spoke, yours were—well you weren’t sure, you were going into an alternate world as they spoke. 

You wished you were there. You wished you picked up the damn fucking phone when the hospital called. You weren’t sure why you wanted that to be how it happened. It wouldn’t have changed anything, Baz would still be dead. 

Your brother would still be dead. 

Turning to Pope, your eyes glossed over, you extended your hand out to grab his arm, steadying yourself from the news. Through a wobbly sound that came out of your throat before words, you swallowed and gave it another shot but failed again. This time your head sent you back to a different time. Maybe not a better one, but a different one. 

2001 - College Parties Suck

Your head was spinning, and not like when you’d smoke a little too much and mix it with a little too much alcohol. This was different. This was scary. You pulled your phone out, hitting the first speed dial you had programmed in your phone. Baz. It rang 4 times before it went to voicemail. You called 5 more times, each time there was no answer. 

You moved onto the next speed dial in your phone. Pope. You tried him once, you felt your eyes getting heavier when you heard the beep to leave a voicemail. “Pope, it’s me, I uh, I don’t feel so good. I came to this party on campus, I just– I need a ride, I think. Yea, I need a ride.” 

The phone dropped into your lap and as you looked down you realized you didn’t have your shirt on, just your black bra and belt that was still wrapped around your jeans. 

You picked up the phone, moving to the next speed dial, you skipped Craig, he never answered and even in your altered state, you knew better than to even try. That's when you called Deran. 

“Hey Doc,” he answered the phone after 2 rings. 

“I uh, need a ride,” that’s when you saw the writing on your stomach. “I was at a party on campus,” you couldn’t quite make out the writing just yet, just black ink all over your abdomen. “I think someone put something in my drink.” 

“Where the fuck are you?” You heard him scrambling on the other line, the jingle of his keys, the muffling in the speaker as he moved around swiftly wherever he was. 

“I– I don’t know. There’s a statue. I’m covered in ink, I don’t have my shirt.” The panic started growing in your gut. “Deran, I’m scared.” 

“Go somewhere public, right now, with people. I’m driving to campus now.” His voice wasn’t panicked, just direct. 

“They wrote on me, I don’t think I should be in public.” You realized now what your stomach said. Cody train station. With an arrow pointing down. “Deran, I feel sick, I feel tired.” 

“I’m like 5 minutes away, try and stay awake.” Deran pressed on the gas with force, the engine loud enough to wake you up just slightly. But not enough for the full 5 minutes. He stayed on the phone with you even when you went silent. When you mentioned a statue, he knew pretty much exactly where you were and it didn’t take him long to find you.  

“Get the fuck away from her.” Deran’s voice made your eyelids open, you saw a few people around you, none of them familiar. 

“Deran?” You squinted hard and mumbled the youngest Cody’s name. 

There was some commotion, you weren’t sure if it was just shoves or punches but the next time you opened your eyes the crowd was gone and you saw the familiar long haired blonde. 

“Deran?” You asked his name again and felt the comfort the minute you heard his voice close. 

“It’s Deran. I’m taking you home.” He pulled you up off the ground. That’s when he saw the writing on you. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you rolled over and began to upchuck. 

“Let it out, that’s good, maybe you’ll throw it up.” Deran was rubbing your back referring to whatever was slipped in your drink. 

It took 20 minutes, but Deran eventually got you in his car and drove you back to the house. It was there that you passed out next to him on the couch in the living room. You were lucky it was a quiet night at the Cody house. He put a pillow down for you to rest your head on, occasionally scratching the top of your head with his fingers to make sure you didn’t fall asleep completely, he wasn’t sure if that was just something you did with concussions or being drugged too so he figured there couldn’t be any harm in it to play it safe.

He didn’t bother trying to remove the marker from you, just gave you one of his cut offs to keep you semi-warm in the car. You made it very clear that you wanted to lie down when you got back to Smurf’s house so he wasn’t going to bother with clothes or cleaning you up until you were more alert. 

The two of you were watching pre-recorded surf competitions, every so often you’d fade into some version of sleep and wake up when you felt Deran scratch at your head. 

“College parties suck,” you mumbled the words while a commercial played on the TV. Then you tried to tap Deran’s side. “Thank you.” 

Before Deran could answer, the sliding door slammed, alerting both of you. Pope was running down the hallway from where your bedroom was, his eyes scanning around the house until they landed on you. 

His eyes then moved to Deran. “What happened, why is she asleep on the couch?” Pope pointed and was waiting frantically for an answer. 

“She was at a party, got drugged, they did some twisted ass shit to her.” Deran’s voice was low, not trying to startle you. 

“What did they do to her?” Pope’s jaw was clenched as he asked, his mind going to a million different places, each one making him angrier than the last. 

“They wrote on her stomach, she has marks on her arms so I think they tied her up for a bit, so people could see her, when I got there she wasn’t at the party, she was on the road, had a group around her but I don’t think anyone you know—touched her.” Deran swallowed hard, he felt a little below water with all of this. 

“Is she going to be okay?” Pope was wracking his brain around seeing you like this, so out of it. Not in a sleepy way but in a fucked up way. He’d seen you drunk, he’d seen you high, this was nothing like that. 

“Pope?” You groggily lifted your head, as you moved, the cutoff tank rode up and he saw the writing. 

Pope saw red. His eyes felt hot, his fists balled up, his jaw wasn’t just clenched anymore but wound so tight he could taste the iron from how hard he was biting down. He knew exactly who did this. It was the same thing that frat asshole Shotgun Shep had said to you that night he got rocked by Craig and caused a scene with you last summer. 

“If you ever need me, you keep calling me, you hear me!?” Pope was yelling at you now. 

“I called Baz.” Your voice was a little whiny. 

“I’m talking about me! ME.” Pope raised his voice, his finger slamming into his chest. 

That’s when Deran sat up a little bit. “Dude, she’s out of it, chill.” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled the words, the guilt starting to rack in your mind. “Where’s Baz?” 

“I don’t know.” Pope answered, his voice still loud but less accusatory now, his own guilt in yelling at you after he saw Deran’s response.

“Where’s my brother?” You now had the same tone as he did earlier. Demanding and raised. “Where’s BAZ?!” This time your voice gripped to the back of your throat as you yelled.

“What’s up?” Baz walked in from the kitchen, beer in hand, casual as ever. 

“I needed you.” You weren't looking at him, your words were slurred still. You felt your heart ache. It was one thing to experience him blowing you off, barely talking to you—you know, losing your friendship with your older brother. But this felt worse than all of that. You needed him. You needed your older brother. All the times he needed you, you’d be there, and he couldn’t reciprocate that anymore? 

“What’s her deal?” Baz was chuckling as he raised his beer bottle to his lips. 

“She was roofied.” Deran’s voice was firm, 

“No shit,” he let out a scoff, one that would have earned him a fist to the face from you if you were of sound mind. 

“It was Rick Shepherd.” Pope spoke up now, the anger in his voice was what you were feeling in your mind. 

“Shotgun Shep?” Deran was looking at Pope with a frown, trying to understand how he knew that information. 

“He called her that the last time he was here, at the summer party, Cody train station,” Pope pointed to your stomach, at the writing. 

“So we gonna beat the guy up?” Baz extended his hands out and shook his head, a small shrug left his shoulders too, like he was asking if they should order chinese or pizza. Not something this serious. 

Pope’s eyes practically burned into Baz’s skull, the anger pouring out of them. 

“Taking that as a yes we’re beating the guy up.” Baz dipped his head from side to side before finishing the beer off and tossing the empty bottle on the couch. He began walking down the stairs into the living room, nonchalantly headed towards you. As he leaned over your body, Deran moved his arm so that Baz could replace it with his, pressing the pillow down into the cushions, his head dipped down and he placed a peck on your head. “Don’t worry, Dockie. We’re gonna beat the guy up.” 

“Go fuck yourself.” You turned over, despite the amount of dizziness and nausea you felt, you didn’t want to even look at Baz. 

“Love you too,” his laugh echoed against the kitchen cabinets, he had already turned to leave with Pope. 

“Did I ruin your night?” You mumbled knowing it was just you and Deran in the living room now. Your face squished against the couch cushion. 

“No, you saved me from getting head from Jonesy Bradford,” Deran chuckled, putting his arm back against the pillow that separated you too. He slouched down a little more, that way he was closer to your face and could whisper a bit.  

“Heads head,” you shrugged and then lifted up a little in question, “Jonesy Bradford is gay?” 

“Very.” Deran laughed, eyebrows raised as he smirked. 

Shaking your head, you dropped it down back into the cushion, letting the sound of the surf competitions fill the room until you fully comprehended what Deran said. 

“You shouldn’t get head from Jonesy Bradford.” Your voice was muffled by the couch cushion, but Deran heard you perfectly fine.

“My point,” Deran let out a breathy laugh and scratched your head again, this time not to wake you up but to be playful. 

“Everyone thinks I’m a whore,” you enunciated the last word with a sigh, it sounded a little jokey but you did mean it.

“We don’t think you’re a whore,” Deran was trying to find some way to cheer you up from whatever funk was happening in your head. 

“Well no, I am a whore. Just not the Cody whore.” Your voice was muffled against the cushion. Deran knew what you meant, Deran might’ve been the only one who knew what you meant. He was the only one who knew how you felt about Pope, and you were the only one who knew how he felt about guys. Not that you two ever labeled your friendship, but for all intents and purposes, Deran was your closest friend. Sure, him and Craig were like brothers to you, but you had a friend in Deran that you didn’t have in anyone else. 

“You can’t tell Smurf,” you said seriously to Deran. 

“I won’t tell Smurf,” he replied with ease. 

“Baz will tell Smurf,” you scoffed. 

“I’ll tell him not to,” Deran always tried to find an answer for you.

“He isn’t going to listen. He never listens.” And you always found something to rebuttal his responses. “It’s fine, I stole Shep’s wallet before things went to shit,” you readjusted to pull the wallet out of the back pocket of your jeans. “Only ninety bucks in his wallet but I found a lock code. He’s in pharmacy school, I think the code is to his locker in the lab, could nab a good amount of shit we could fence.”

Deran laughed, his head shaking as he did. “That’ll save your ass if Baz blabs.” 

“When,” you corrected him. 

Suddenly, you heard footsteps coming back into the living room and Pope’s voice was loud again, like he was just as frustrated if not more than just a few moments ago. 

“If you need me, you call me 15 times until I answer, okay?!” There was a slight grovel in his voice. He had his keys gripped tight in his hand, he was getting ready to go to UCSD with Baz but for some reason came back to yell some more.  “I mean it, all you need to say is I need you and I’ll be there, you hear me?!” 

“I hear you,” your face got solemn as you looked at him, he regretted yelling again, it was clear on his face as he nodded, his eyes barely able to meet yours. “I’ll tell you I need you.” 

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 8:10AM

One last shot. You were going to give speaking one last shot as you gripped Pope’s arm. The police officers were still going through their spiel of what went down. One more wobbly sound escaped from your throat followed by a whispered plea. 

“Pope, I need you.” 

“Yea, I’m here.” 

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 8:39AM

You were horizontal on the back seats of the Dodge Ram. The numbness fully took over your body as you stared at the dash. Eyes focused on the radio, the controls for the vents, but you weren’t really retaining any of that information. Nor the conversation that Nicky and Pope were having, which was less of a conversation and more just Pope muttering under his breath as they looked for J on The Strand. 

Usually the motion of the car would turn your stomach laid up in the back seat like this, but you were so out of it, you couldn’t tell. As the car came to an abrupt stop, you moved slightly, Nicky grabbing your feet to hold you steady on the backseat. Pope’s eyes moved to make sure you were okay before they leaned over the console to call out to J. 

“Put her seat belt on,” he demanded back to Nicky who was quick to do it, she said something to you but you weren’t really paying attention, just focused on the middle console. “Get in!” Pope was now yelling to J who opened the door with haste and confusion. “Baz is dead.” 

Three words. That pulled your eyes off the middle console and back to two people in the front of the truck. 

“What?” J wasn’t yelling, but the shock was there in his tone, plastered on his face. As he hopped into the truck his head turned to see you horizontal in the back. “What happened?” 

No one answered him. 

He was still looking at you with sympathy, racking his mind around the information but also genuinely concerned about you. “Do you need anything?” 

2016 - Homecoming (Pilot) 

“How many times have I told you guys, bullets are the hardest to fucking treat,” your head was down as you were texting on your phone, messenger bag draped over your shoulder. “Don’t get–”

“Don’t get shot.” The trio of men repeated as they cut you off and held Craig on the pool table. 

Almost immediately you heard the familiar sound of a voice you hadn’t heard in years. As you laid eyes on the men gathered around the pool table, you saw Craig who was dripping sweat, bleeding from his shoulder, quick breaths. Then there was your brother, who was holding Craig down as he attempted to do something with the bullet wound in Craig’s shoulder, he had a shit-eating grin on his face like he was living for this moment. But then your eyes connected with the man you hadn’t seen in years, his hands holding Craig on the opposite side, no smile, just a piercing glare. The voice you’d recognize anywhere. Pope. 

 “Well at least you know,” you stayed frozen staring at him, not realizing he had gotten out of prison. I mean how could you? He stopped letting you visit, he stopped writing. He looked good, he looked healthy, his hair was cut like shit, those prison haircuts never suited him. 

“Ahhh!” Craig screamed and it brought your eyes back to the situation unfolding. 

“Is it through and through?” You shook your head and moved to replace Baz and help Craig. “Jesus Christ, you started to cauterize it, already!?”

“We pulled the bullet out, it needed to be sealed!” Baz raised his hands. 

“If you aren’t going to listen to me when I tell you to not get shot, then at least listen to when I tell you to leave it be until I get here.” You slammed your bag on the table looking for the kit of surgical tools you had stolen from the hospital inventory all those years ago. 

“Sorry, Doc.” Craig looked up through his sweat beaded brows at you. 

“Don’t say sorry to me, Baz should say it to you, this is going to hurt 10x more now.” You dropped the tools down and grabbed a saline bottle and poured it onto a fresh package of gauze. “I have to debride it, I’m going to give you something for the pain and I’m gonna ask Pope to hold this against the wound for like 15 minutes, soften the tissue. Then I’m gonna have to pick at it,” you handed the gauze to Pope who hadn’t taken his eyes off you since you stepped in the room, but instead of looking at him you just went into your bag and grabbed a small bottle of morphine and a syringe to give it to him. “This isn’t a lot but it’s enough,” your eyes jumped to Craig’s who smirked, a slight chuckle escaping his mouth. 

“C’mon Doc, I got shot.” 

“And I guarantee you’re already a few lines and shots in,” your eyes were trained on the syringe pushing a little liquid out the needle. “10 milligrams.” 

He sighed with an eye roll as you placed it into his arm. “I’ll be back in 15, where’s Deran?” Your eyes moved anywhere but Pope’s. 

“He’s in the living room with Smurf, nursing his own wounds,” Baz gave you a look, one that you knew meant he fucked up the job tonight and was living with that regret. You knew better than to interrupt Smurf’s coddling so you just raised your eyebrows at your brother. Before either of you could say anything, there was a creak on the stairs that led to the hall right behind the kitchen and you both turned your heads. 

You recognized him, Julia’s kid, Josh. Your eyes went wide and then they fell to Baz who also looked a little thrown off, but less thrown than you. Everyone just stayed frozen, J’s eyes jumping from all of yours to Craig who was just slightly less loud than before, the morphine clearly doing its work. 

“Josh, right?” You broke the silence. 

“Yea, J.” You could tell he was trying to read you. 

“J,” you corrected yourself before turning to look at Pope to make sure he was putting the gauze on the wound for Craig. “Apparently it’s the night for old faces to turn up.” Looking back at J you sighed. “I’m–”

“Aunt Doc.” He finished your sentence for you. 

“Yea, Aunt Doc. You can just call me Doc, though.” You weren’t going to make a kid who didn’t know you get caught up in mannerisms. He didn’t owe you that.

It was then that you realized he probably knew you visited Julia, never for long, just enough to drop food off, say hi, you never saw him though, just Julia. You knew he was Baz’s kid, or that the chance he was was pretty high. 

“Is your mom here?” You were crossing your arms, a little shocked to see the kid all grown up and here at Smurf’s place. 

“My mom’s dead–she OD’d.” J said it with no emotion. 

Your head snapped to Baz who had his hand behind his neck, knowing you were going to ring him out for not telling you and then to Julia’s twin—Pope, for his response, but all he did was stare.

“Uh, I’m so sorry I had no idea, uhm–” you weren’t sure what to say right now, your head was going a mile a minute, trying to wrap itself around the fact that Pope was back, Julia was gone, and J seemed to be staying here now. 

“I’m gonna go to bed, kind of tired.” J pointed over his shoulder before retreating down the hall. 

“I’m away for 3 days and everything fucking happens,” You mumbled, turning around, you practically ripped the gauze out of Pope’s hand to see how the tissue on Craig’s wound was softening. “Needs more time.” You didn’t even bother to look at Pope to grab the gauze back, just turned back around towards the kitchen, your shoulder bumping into Baz’s as you did. 

“Dockie,” Baz’s head fell back in slight annoyance. 

You ignored him going into the fridge to act like you were busy doing something but it was just a mindless activity. 

“Dockie,” Baz called you again. 

“What?!” You hissed the word and slammed the fridge, hard enough that it bounced wide open again. “What excuse are you going to force me to fucking believe this time?” 

“It’s no excuse,” Baz was pleading. 

“I’m away dealing with your shit,” you pushed your finger into his abdomen, “and you can’t even fucking call me to tell me Pope got out? That Julia fucking died and her kid is fucking living here?” 

“You went to Mexico for your own shit,” Baz tried to correct you. 

Your eyes went wide. “My own shit,” you let your head fall back with a laugh. “Here’s the fucking note from your fucking mistress, and the gift you wanted me to give her fucking kid went over well,” you pulled the note from Lucy out and slammed it against Baz’s chest. 

“You went down there for your own stockpile of supplies, I just asked you for a favor,” Baz was being a shit right now. 

“Well now I’m asking you for one, keep me in the loop.” Your eyes glared into him. 

“I was going to tell you, but then Craig got shot.” There it was, Baz’s excuse. Although, it wasn’t necessarily an excuse, it wasn’t a lie. Just a sorry form of the truth. 

“I used to wish you’d just tell me the truth, but now I think it was better when you’d respect me enough to come up with some story why you’d treat me like this.” Your head was shaking in anger. 

“You ever think the reason you’re out of the loop sometimes is because you just bitch and whine, bitch and whine.” Baz’s voice barked back at you, still at a hushed tone. 

“Go play in traffic,” you spat back at him. 

“Fine—you first, I’ll bring the snacks.” He smiled sarcastically. 

“I’ll bring Lucy, that way you aren’t lonely in hell.” It was a typical fight between you two. You’d both say something fucked up, but nothing that was too harsh or heartbreaking. The real heartbreaking matter was that your relationship had gotten to this point to begin with. 

“Don’t do that,” Baz shook his head and slammed the fridge closed behind you. 

“Do what?” You made a face, scrunching your nose up and frowning. 

“Act like you don’t want me here, like you wouldn’t be completely devastated if I was dead.” That line made you freeze. You’d normally go toe to toe with Baz in a verbal fight anyday. Quick responses, even faster reaction times when he’d hit you with unexpected words. But not this time. 

You stared at him, your eyes burning into his and you realized he wasn’t just fighting with you, he was being serious. 

There was a rebuttal on your tongue. I lived without the other Blackwell man in my life, I’d do it again no issue. Dead or deadbeat. I’ll bring you beer and cat food too—make it real full circle. But you knew that was crossing a line, and whether he crossed them with you wasn’t on you. This was. 

“Just…tell me shit.” You dropped your eyes to the floor. “I don’t like being surprised.” 

“Pope’s home, Julia OD’d, J’s living at Smurfs.” Baz gripped your shoulder and shook it, his way of making it up to you. It held no weight, it was the easy way out. “I was going to call you, I promise. And thank you for stopping by Lucy’s, I know you hate it, I know you hate me for it, but I appreciate it, and you.” 

It was just words. You knew they were just words. 

“When did Pope get home?” You whispered it, knowing he probably heard the entire conversation up to this point. 

“Yesterday,” Baz dropped his head to look at you. “You’re not still…?” He didn’t need to finish the sentence for you to understand what he was saying. 

“I never was,” your eyes flew up. “What about you, Julia’s dead? How are you with all that? J?” 

“It’s Smurf’s problem, not mine.” Baz’s eyes did what yours just did.

“Alright then.” You nodded, arms crossed now. 

“Alright then.” He matched your stance. 

That was the end of that conversation, you moved back to the dining room to pick tissue from Craig. Pope stayed there the whole time, eyes on you saying no words. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Not once. Your eyes stayed trained on Craig’s wound for the full 43 minutes you picked dead and soon to be infected tissue off him. 

As you inserted an IV into his arm, you dropped the bag into Pope’s hand, still keeping your eyes anywhere but his. “He needs to be on an IV for 6 hours, when it runs out, have Baz find me and I’ll set up a new one.” You didn’t wait for him to respond, just grabbed your bag and moved down the hallway behind the kitchen, the longer way to your room but the quickest way away from Pope. 

It was there that you saw J sitting up on the bed in what used to be Pope’s old room. You stopped and looked at him, he looked like Baz, and everyone just ignored it. Without a second thought, you walked into the small patio and then into his room. 

“Do you need anything?” You said it following a soft knock on the glass door. “I’ve been away otherwise I would have been here sooner.” It was a wimpy excuse, but it was the truth, and despite your argument being completely the opposite to Baz just moments earlier, if he had started with wimpy truths from the jump, maybe you’d be somewhere different now.

“I heard,” J pointed to the kitchen nonchalantly. 

Your eyes looked back and realized both doors had been wide open and he heard your fight with Baz. 

With a nod, you exhaled and looked back at the young kid. “I’m not sure how much you’ve heard since you’ve been here—”

“I’m not gonna say anything.” He cut you off. 

“No, no, I–” You shook your head and moved to sit next to him on the mattress. “That’s not what I was saying. I just mean…” you searched your mind for the right words. “Being here is a game. One that you have to play to learn.” 

“You used to come by, give my mom meds, bring us food,” J didn’t seem to care about your words right now. 

“Yea, I did. I should’ve done more. But that’s my guilt to live with, not yours,” instinctually you wanted to tap his leg but you knew you were nowhere near that point with the kid yet so you just shook your head and moved on. “Here, take these,” you leaned down to pull a few boxes out of your messenger bag and handed them to him. “It’s narcan, I give a few boxes every so often to the guys too. Keep them on you, in case.” 

“You used to give them to my mom,” J was staring at the 5 boxes of narcan, they weren’t cheap off-brand meds, they were the name brand hospital grade. 

“Yea,” you looked down at the ground again thinking back to the boxes you’d hide below a foil container of food, just so she’d have them and not argue with you on it. Lot of good that did. “Look, I play the game, but not with everyone. This is my way of saying, I’m here for whatever you need. If you’re hurt, if you need to talk, I’m here. You’re my…nephew.” It was genuine, just like when you’d sneak away to visit Julia.

“My mom said you were like a sister to her,” you could hear the hesitation in his voice. 

“Yea,” although that’s not what you meant in calling him your nephew, but you weren’t an idiot, there was too much going on to open that box of worms right now. “I wish I did more for her.” 

“You did more than anyone else.” He finally looked at you, like he was letting you off the hook in a way. It wasn’t going to be that easy, but you did appreciate it. 

Standing up off the bed, you smiled at him. “I’ll be in the back room of the house, my old bedroom. But I have a place on The Strand,I’ll get your number from one of the guys and text you so you have my number too.” You rested your hand on the door frame. “I’m serious, let me know if you need anything.” 

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 11:43AM “Homicide cops want us all to come down to the station for questions,” Pope was entering the living room where Deran, J, and Nicky, and you were. You had your head on a pillow, horizontal just like you were in the truck, this time just on the red couches that took up the space along the living room walls. If it was up to you that’s where you would have stayed the entire time. There would have been no dragging you into the truck to look for J, no picking up Deran at the bar, you would have been right here. Numb and parallel to the couch. 

But when you told Pope you needed him, he took that seriously. He brought you with him everywhere he went, there wasn’t a moment you were out of his radius. 

You knew he was looking out for you while also trying to have a handle on the situation, keep everyone safe. It’s why he placed you down on the couch against the pillow and made Deran sit next to you. 

“Do that shit you do,” he pointed to the top of your head after he told Deran to sit next to you. 

“What?” Deran was out of it too, not like you, but he was clearly sad. Going through the motions. His eyes were heavy, glossy, and his face was red. 

“You scratch her head or something, it calms her down.” Pope would have been the one to notice that over the years. 

Deran just looked at Pope confused before it clicked, he looked down at you completely frozen, no reaction to words, to movement to anything. As he looked back up at Pope, who moved his hand again as if to say C’mon let’s go, just do it. 

Deran obliged, his left hand went to scratch the top of your head, just his fingertips like he’d done always. It was a comfort, one that neither one of you ever noticed. As he scratched the top of your head, you normally would have closed your eyes, felt the weight of your tears and let them out but none of that happened. You didn’t even flinch from the touch, just stared blankly at the fireplace. 

Pope dropped his shoulders and handed Deran a shotgun after the failed attempt at comfort. 

The conversation continued between them, they were talking about what they’d tell the cops, who could have done this, if anyone was after them. You stayed focused on the fireplace, mind somewhere else completely. 

That was until you heard Nicky mention Lena. 

Whose going to take care of Lena? Both of her parents are gone. Does she end up in foster care?

“No.” You and Pope both spoke up at the same time, his eyes darted to yours from Nicky’s. You were pushing up off the couch, sitting up right now. “I’ll take care of her.” You said it like you were going to be babysitting for the night, not taking her on as your own for the rest of your life. But that didn’t matter, that girl needed some stability and you’d gladly be the one to give it to her. You were the only one here with a real job, the only one with a semi-clean record, a normal life. It had to be you. 

“I need the Jag,” you turned to Pope. 

“I’ll drive you where you need to go,” his voice softened in a way that it never did with anyone else. 

“No, you need to go to the station for questions,” you were keeping your sentences short at the moment, not in the right headspace to explain everything going on in your head. 

“So do you,” he frowned a little trying his best to understand. 

“I also need to identify the body, that’s what the police said this morning, and then I need to pick Lena up from school, and figure out funeral arrangements, and legal shit and make sure that I can adopt Lena or at least keep her in my custody. I need to call my job and take bereavement and I have to go to his place and figure out if I’m moving in there or taking Lena with me to my place—which one I’m going to sell.” You went from having no thoughts to a million. 

“You can’t go alone,” Pope wasn’t going to argue with you, but he wasn’t going to leave you vulnerable either. 

“I have a gun, I have a brain, if someone runs up on me I can handle them, I’ll keep my head on a swivel.” 

Pope wasn’t going to argue anymore, he just pulled another gun from his waistband as you stood up and walked to stand next to him. “Take this, too.” The gun was being handed to you, Pope had his hand wrapped around the barrel with the handle free for you to grab. A few seconds passed while you stared at Pope, the handle just inches away from brushing against your abdomen. 

“Thanks,” you grabbed it and tucked it into your waistband, then saw the Jag keys in his palm. 

As your fingers grabbed the keys, his hand gripped around yours and brought it closer to him. “You call me if you need me, I don’t care if it’s for a light on the dash or someone looks at you funny, you call me.” 

“I’ll call you, I promise,” you said it with honesty, you knew brushing him off would have done nothing but make him repeat himself again. Turning you looked back at J, and tilted your head towards the kitchen. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” 

J’s eyes jumped from yours to Pope’s, then Deran who all gave no indication they had any idea what you were planning on saying. 

“Uh, yea,” J stood up, following you into the kitchen. It was there that you closed your eyes and tried to really pull yourself out of your head, all the thoughts that were crashing down on you that your numbing state earlier blocked out. 

“Okay, so I should’ve done this earlier. Just like with your mom, but again that’s my shit to fucking deal with, not yours. But at this point Baz is fucking dead, so any shit I was trying to tip-toe around is dead with him.” Your voice was cutting, likely the first stage of grief manifesting itself in your words. 

J’s eyes were locked on you, confused by your lack of context with what you were saying. 

“Look, I know you’re grown up, you’re 18, you don’t need someone to play mom and dad, but since Lena does, I’m going to figure out whatever I need to so she’s legally in my care. I’ll probably move her into my place or maybe I’ll move into Baz’s but either way, what I’m trying to get at is you have a place with me, alright? If you need to get away from this shit here, for good, for a night, for a week, whatever, you always have a place with me.” You were a little frantic in your delivery but it didn’t change the sentiment. 

“Thanks…” J was searching for the right words.

“You’re my nephew just as much as Lena is my niece,” that sentence was said with no shakiness, just truth. “What I’m doing for her now, I should’ve done for you then. But since I can’t change what I did then, I’m gonna do things differently now.” You nodded your head and looked up at him with soft eyes. 

“Alright,” J nodded and gave you a soft smile.

“Alright,” you nodded back, taking one quick step toward him and tapped his arm. “I’ll call you later, check on you. Let me go do all this shit.” 

Turning for the sliding doors, you paused when J called your name. 

“Let me know if you need anything, seriously. I meant it before,” J said. 

“I appreciate it, kid. But right now I need to go identify my piece of shit dead brother’s body and the conflict of that is even above my fucked up concept of life so I’ll spare you, but I’ll reach out if anything pops up.”

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 1:04PM

You wished you were numb like you were hours ago. As you bounced your leg up and down in the waiting room, your mind went through the list of everything you needed to get done. Funeral, assets, Lena, custody, place to live, the list went on. You kept your eye on your watch, checking it every so often to make sure you weren’t cutting it too close to Lena’s school pickup. The questioning was already done, they asked you where you were, names of alibis, if you knew anyone that would want to kill your brother. Normal questions. That made you chuckle to yourself, probably earning you eyes from a few people around you. Nothing about this was normal.

They called you back, like you were waiting at the fucking DMV or something, not identify your brother’s body. The frustration was seeping off your body as you walked through hallways and through door after door. After a few sighs and eye rolls, you entered the room where you saw the white sheet over Baz’s lifeless body. Almost immediately your entire mood changed, you noticed how cold it was in the room, how your hands were shaking now. As they pulled the sheet back, you felt your breath hitch, the anger suddenly gone, it was replaced with an emotion you weren’t really familiar with. It was a mix of nostalgia, a longing for the past, sonder, as you thought about the complexities of Baz’s existence as he lifelessly laid on the metal table, and a physical feeling of being so beyond out of place. You wish you could go back to being numb again, everything then was easier to deal with, probably because you weren’t dealing with it at all. As you stared at Baz’s blue and frigid face, your mind brought you back to another complicated moment in yours and Baz’s history. A recent one. 

2017 - Planning The Church Heist  

Your feet were kicked up on the coffee table as you sipped a bottle of beer. Your eyes trained on the TV but you were intently listening to the boys talk about what the next job was going to be. Yacht or church. Your vote didn’t matter and wasn’t ever taken into consideration, you never got an equal share and you weren’t expecting one now, especially since all of them were pulling away from Smurf and deciding new rules. You had started to get up off the couch, stand up to toss your empty bottle in the recycle and say your goodbyes, but the movement turned the attention on you. 

“Dockie, can you reach out to your cop boyfriend? See if security at the church has friends in blue, if there’s been any chatter of similar hits in the area, let us know what we’re walking into with either jobs.” Baz was interrupting everyone’s arguments to talk to you. 

After placing the bottle in the recycle you turned to Baz with your face twisted up ready to respond in argument when you were interrupted. 

“You have a cop boyfriend?” Pope’s question was littered in shock and a little humor, you heard the curiosity for what it was though, jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you looked at Pope to answer his question and moved your eyes onto Baz. “He’s a contact, I went to school with him, he’s a dick.”  Your arms were crossed. 

“Well, yea, most cops are,” Pope said matter of factly. 

“What am I supposed to do? Take him out and wine and dine him? C’mon. We can do our own recon, I’ll sit outside the fucking church or on the docks all night if I have to, just don’t make me go to dinner with this guy.” 

“It’s one dinner, make him pay,” Baz shrugged like it was no big deal. 

“He’s a creep, Baz.” You thought that repeating it would make him get it, and maybe, sure you were being a little over exaggerated,  but he did have a lingering eye. 

“We’ll cut you in, no more percentages.” That was his bargaining chip and he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist it, you could use the money. 

“I’ll go when you go, sit in the restaurant and make sure your boyfriend doesn’t get handsy,” Deran was teasing you from his spot at the breakfast bar. 

“Can we please stop calling him my boyfriend?” You were shaking your head, you already knew you’d cave in and do it. “For what it’s worth I think both jobs are stupid and asking for trouble.” You were grabbing another beer and plopping back down on the sofa, that was your way of agreeing to do the work. 

All of them went back to arguing, you were practically done with the second beer now. This time you were going to get up and head out for real, call this asshole cop and set a time for dinner, but then you heard a little voice.

“Daddy?” 

“What?! Lena, how many times do I have to tell you? No beach. Not happening.” Baz’s voice echoed through the whole house. 

Before you even had a chance to turn around, see Lena’s face or even the rest of the guys, you heard Pope.

“I’ll—I’ll —I’ll t-take you,” his hand extended over the bar towards his niece. “If it’s okay with your dad.” 

That made you let out a silent laugh. “I’ll go with you guys,” you placed your beer bottle on the coffee table and stood up, not waiting for Baz to answer. You grabbed Lena’s hand and looked up at Pope who was making his way over to you both, picking up Lena’s drawing and complimenting her on it. 

The two of you went to the beach, stopping first on the playground that was near The Strand but still on the sand. 

You pumped your legs on the swing next to Lena, cheering her on as you both soared back and forth. Pope was leaning against the park sign post, watching both of you intently. 

“I think I’m going too fast and high,” Lena’s little voice got wobbly and you were quick to slow your own swing down and grab the chains of hers. 

“I got you,” you gripped the seat now and controlled her swings. Pope was moving towards you now, worry on his face when you looked over your shoulder. “S’ok, she just got a little nervous.” 

It was then that the swing you were on got taken by some kid who was pretty chatty, you took that as your sign to step back and let her play with kids her own age. 

You stood on the opposite side of Pope, leaning on the metal pole just like he was. 

“So you gonna call the cop?” His voice was raspy. 

“Whatever Baz wants, Baz gets.” Your voice was littered with annoyance. 

“It doesn't have to be that way,” his arms were crossed, sunglasses perched on his face. 

“Says the guy who asked his permission to take his niece to the beach, everything needs his approval, I mean even the job,” you raised your hand and it fell back down against your thigh. “You know it, too. It’s already decided, we’re doing the church.” You shrugged. “And he can’t even be bothered to be a decent dad, again.” 

“Are you really with the cop?” Pope let his internal thoughts become outloud. 

You smirked, looking out at Lena and the horizon while you pulled a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket. “No.” 

“Are you with anyone?” He reiterated. 

This time you looked over at him, hiding your smile between the cigarette in your mouth. “No.” 

Silence grew between you two. The sounds of the kids playing and yelling filled the space, Lena’s laughs and giggles as she went just as high as before, this time with no problem as she tried to beat the kid next to her. 

“You want ice cream?” Pope was pushing off the sign. 

“Only if you’re buying.” You took one last inhale of the cigarette and put it out on the bottom of your shoe before placing it in the ashtray above the trash can. 

The walk home on The Strand was nice, Lena was in between you both, huge cup of cookies and cream ice cream in her hands as she skipped happily.  You had your own cup, so did Pope. 

“You want one of my gummy bears, kid?” You scooped one up and dropped it into Lena’s cup before she could even answer. 

“Thanks Auntie Doc,” she grinned and immediately ate it. 

“Thank Uncle Pope, he splurged for us,” you bumped his shoulder. 

After she thanked Pope, her eyes fell on hopscotch squares that were drawn in chalk on the concrete, only a few feet away from Baz’s, she asked eagerly if she could go ahead and both of you agreed. 

“You used to take me for ice cream after we’d hang out at the skatepark,” you mindlessly picked the spoon of ice cream up and toyed with it before taking a bite. 

“Half chocolate, half vanilla, gummy bears and hot fudge to keep them soft.” Pope read out your order. 

“You used to scare the cashier to make sure he gave me extra gummy bears,” for you it was a funny memory, but it clearly did something to Pope. 

“Everyone’s scared of me,” he tossed his ice cream into the trash. 

Your eyes looked up and saw how genuine he was and you took a beat, taking one more bite of your ice cream before tossing it too. “They don’t understand you, Pope.” 

You let that hang in the air a bit, really wanting that sentiment to sit with him. 

“If they did,” you turned to him, now at the steps of Baz’s. “They’d love you.” 

Before he could respond, Baz was opening the screen door. “Where’s the kid?” 

“She’s playing hopscotch,” you pointed to Lena who was having the time of her life.

“You call the cop?” Baz was leaning against the column. 

“I will.” You stepped up a few steps and leaned against the railing. 

“Just ask him about the church, nothing else,” Baz was looking out at Lena and that’s when you made eye contact with Pope and raised your brows in a knowing way. 

“Auntie Doc, can you read me a bedtime story?!” Lena was yelling out from the road to you. 

“Yea, Lena-love! C’mon let’s pick one.” You waved her over but not before checking to make sure there were no cars coming. She was in your arms in seconds. “Say goodnight to Uncle Pope.” You leaned so she could reach him, her arms wrapping around his neck. “G’night Uncle Pope.” 

“Goodnight,” he nodded and you saw his smile. 

“Go, I’ll be inside to say goodnight soon,” Baz waved both of you inside, his hand squeezing both yours and Lena’s shoulders as you passed.

“I’m going to Mexico tomorrow, I might need you and Doc to pick Lena up from school and shit,” Baz thought telling Pope would be the easy one. 

“You should spend more time with her,” Pope didn’t mind picking Lena up, but he saw how little Baz had been involved lately. 

“Any more parenting tips for me, man?” There was a chuckle that left Baz’s mouth, but it was less of a laugh and more of a warning. 

“I mean, she definitely didn’t love that you yelled at her earlier,” Pope had his hands at his sides as he shrugged.

“You know, why don’t you figure out your own shit before you start telling me how to raise my kid?” Baz was yelling now, his voice could be heard from inside which is when you grabbed Lena’s headphones. 

“Why don’t we play a song to help us get in the mood for the story, yea?” You placed the headphones on her head and connected it to her tablet, quickly pressing the first mermaid video you saw since she had picked up a marine book. 

“No one's ever gonna have a kid with you, ever!” Baz’s voice was echoing so loudly, it was a miracle Lena didn’t flinch. You held up your hand to show her you’d be back in a minute. Stepping out of her room, you waited in the living room for your brother, arms crossed. 

As he slammed the door and walked into his house, he didn’t even look at you. 

“What the hell was that?” You turned your body to face him, looking out the front door to see Pope still standing there, processing Baz’s words.

“What?” He snapped. 

“You need to chill, I know you’re dealing with a lot but you have a little girl who depends on you,” you weren’t trying to be mean, you weren’t even trying to hound him, you were being honest with him. 

“You know what I need? I need you to shut the fuck up and mind your business.” He was slamming his hand on the tiled table. 

“Mind it until you need me in it, right?” You weren’t backing down. “Mind it until you call me because you’re somewhere doing something and need me to pick your kid up,” you pressed a finger to the other like you were beginning to count. “Mind it until you need me to reach out to someone I know and run recon that you can easily do yourself but don’t want to, mind it until you’re beat to shit and need meds from my fucking stockpile, mind it until you need someone to parent your fucking kid or do your laundry or dishes or straighten up your place,” your voice was just as loud now and you were glad Lena had her headphones on. 

“You know, we used to be close. Hell, you’d take fucking beatings for me. We’d sneak out and get snacks from some corner store and put Ray’s hand in hot water and watch him piss himself when he was passed out drunk in the recliner. You gave a shit about me, you gave a shit about everything. The minute we walked into Smurf’s house, I lost you to her, we all did,” you stepped closer to Baz now. “You made me lose my job, Baz. My job. What I worked hard for. What was supposed to be my life.” Your voice cracked. “And now I’m here watching your kid, taking her to the beach for ice cream with her fucking Uncle, because you can’t be bothered with anything that doesn’t serve you.” Your voice echoed against the walls. 

Baz went to respond but then stopped. His eyes changed their position, almost looking evil in what he was thinking. His tongue swiped along the bottom of his lip before he shook his head with a smirk. “If you want to play fucking house with Pope be my guest, but don’t do it with my kid.” 

“Which one? The one you abandoned Julia with? Or the one you abandoned Lucy with? Or the one you’re about to abandon?” Your words had a bite to them. “You’re not a good person Baz, you’re not. I love you, you’re my brother, and I will always love you but you suck. And for the record it’s not playing house when we’re the only two people who give a single fuck about what happens to her, you don’t care Baz, and it used to be okay when it was me, when it was Pope, but this is your child, she has no one else, she needs you. You think you’re nothing like dad but you’re the spitting image of him, but Lena doesn’t have an older brother in her life to look out for her, and you know what? She’s probably better off for it. Because he’d learn from you and abandon her when she needed him the most. At least this way she has me, she has Pope, someone who knows when school fucking ends, what grade she’s in, what TV shows she likes. You treat her like a burden and she realizes that, she’s fucking 6 years old Baz, she’s a kid, a fucking kid.” 

After your long winded statement, you didn’t give him time to answer. Turning around, you went to go back to Lena’s room, say goodbye to her and tell her you were sorry you couldn’t stay for the story. She didn’t mind, you told her you’d see her tomorrow, which was the truth, you heard Baz’s plan to go to Mexico tomorrow. 

As you closed Lena’s door, you turned to your brother who was clenching his jaw. “When you leave tomorrow, call Pope, not me. I don’t want to hear from you about anything besides the job.” 

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 4:15PM 

That wasn’t the last time you talked to Baz, far from it. In fact, you had in some way made up from that fight at a point. You always did, but it was never a real fix. You never talked about the real problem, any real solutions, he was always running from it, and maybe in a way you were too. 

It’s what you were currently doing, running from it. As you unloaded Lena from the car in Baz’s driveway, your eyes clocked the blood stained sidewalk and the blood that was on the siding of the front porch as well. You were quick to hide it from the girl and told her to go play on the playground that was just a few feet down from his house. 

As she happily obliged, you stood on the sidewalk, your eyes staring at the blood that seeped into the concrete, it felt harrowing. It felt like a metaphor for something. The stain Baz was going to leave on your life, on everything. You felt your heart pick up, your mind was still trying to grieve the idea of Baz you had created in your head and begged for him to be, and now it was forced to deal with grieving him completely. It was a lot to take in, and seeing his blood here on the sidewalk, felt like it was forcing you to take it all in right now, rubbing it in your face. Every memory, every fight, every disappointment, every loss of what was to come, what could’ve been, what should’ve been. He was haunting you, it hadn’t even been 24 hours yet and Baz was haunting you. 

Someone calling your name brought you out of your spiral, it couldn’t have been one of the boys, they never used your full name unless it was serious and that was rare, although one could argue rare circumstances were upon you all. But you could tell by the voice it wasn’t someone that familiar, and you were right. There was Travis Callahan, the dirty cop you had wrapped around your finger. One dinner and he had made it a point to run into you at least once a week. Nothing inappropriate, but still an annoyance. 

“Hey, I just heard about your brother, I came down as soon as I could, are you okay?” He had his uniform on, his car was parked across the street, you must’ve missed it in the middle of your spiral. 

“Hey,” you closed your eyes and shook your head, “Yea, thanks Travis, you didn’t need to come down here, it’s all well you know, it’s family stuff.” You tried to put on your best brave face. 

“No, I know, I just— the guys at the station said you had stopped by right before I came in for my shift, I just figured I’d come check on you, I know this isn’t anything serious— between us meaning, but I don’t know, it’s your brother and he’s dead.” 

You tried to hold onto the sweet parts of his sentence, he was an airhead most days and today was no different. 

“Thanks for the reminder,” you smiled, sarcastically. 

“Shit, sorry. I just—just wanted to check on you.” He ran his hand through his gelled hair. 

“Thanks, Travis, really I appreciate it,” your face softened, maybe you had misjudged him all this time. When you would run into him, you didn’t talk about anything that wasn’t in small talk or co-worker talk territory, and he did just come to check on you, so maybe you should just smile and take it for what it was, someone being kind. 

“If you need a distraction, or if it helps not to be alone, I’m around, if you need…” he trailed off and that’s when you almost let out an audible laugh. Here you were feeling guilty for misjudging the guy when he was only here to jump at the chance to manipulate your grief. 

“What?” You thought you’d give him the chance to pull back a bit, earn a bit of something back, but he just doubled down. 

“You’re allowed to want comfort, you know. Even if it doesn’t make sense right now.” 

“I think I’m good, Travis. Alone is kind of my thing,” and still despite him reinforcing the fact he was a dick, you still let him down softly. 

“But you shouldn’t have to go through this alone. If you need someone, even just to stay the night, I can be here.”

“She said she was good,” Pope’s voice made both of you turn your heads, he was walking up from his truck that was parked a few feet behind both of you. 

You closed your eyes and mumbled a few words, something along the lines of here we go or great, this day sucks. 

“Pope.” Travis greeted the eldest Cody, his hands instinctively going to rest on the vest he was wearing over his uniform. “Sorry to hear about Baz.” 

“I’m sure,” Pope was behind you now. “This is kind of a family issue we have to deal with,” that was his way of politely telling Travis to leave and you knew Pope wasn’t going to ask again. 

“I’m serious,” Travis put his attention back on you. “Call me if you need anything.” 

Before you could answer, this time you planned to be a little more forceful, tell Travis you didn’t need anything and that unless he had any investigation news he should let you grieve with the family, Pope stepped in front of you. 

“She’s taken care of, Officer Callahan, you can go.” His hand pointed to the cop car. 

“Pope.” You hissed. 

“Nah, it’s alright. I’ll see you around,” he waved and moved back to his car, Pope kept his eyes on him until the car was well down the street. 

When he turned back around to you, he saw how angry you were. 

“I thought you said you weren’t dating that asshole?” 

“I’m not.” You went to rub the top of your head.

“You trust him,” that realization broke Pope a little bit. He was the person you called, and despite never talking about whatever shit was going on between you, being the person you relied on was what kept Pope together. 

“He’s a contact, Pope. I trust his intel, I trust his ability to find dirt on what’s dirty, that’s it.” You were reaching a limit. “I had it handled.” 

“I handled it for you.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I thought I told you to call me if anything happened.” 

“Nothing happened!” Your voice cracked as you yelled, one arm across your chest and the other lifting off your forehead frantically. “I told you I had it handled.” 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Pope was a little taken back, he hadn’t heard you get like this towards him in a long time, you normally saved that for Baz. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I just— I need to tell my niece that her dad is dead and I don’t have the space to deal with this,” you moved your arms around referencing everything around you. The blood on the sidewalk, Travis and Pope’s ego contest, your crippling emotions. 

“I can tell her if you want?” Pope was just trying to be helpful now, he was dropping the Travis thing. 

With a deep breath you extended your hands out and grabbed his forearms. “No, thank you,” you let out a sigh and squeezed his arms. “Looking at the body fucked me up, I’m sorry I’m in a mood,” you shook your head and dropped his arms, letting your hand run down your face. “I can tell her, she’s on the playset right now and I’m gonna just feel it out. Can you take care of this blood, I don’t want her to see this.” You nodded to the stain. 

Pope didn’t even look at it, not even a glance or a minute to suss out the situation to see if he could even do it. He would make it happen, no questions. “Consider it taken care of.” 

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 5:04PM

Sitting on the swings that weren’t too far off from Baz’s place, Lena to your right, sun setting in front of you, you debated in your head the best way to tell her for a while. You could wait, but it wouldn’t change anything. You could just say it, but what would that do to her in the long run? You had to do this the right way, if that even existed. 

“Hey Lena?” You leaned against the swing chain, your legs slightly moving against the ground swaying you back and forth. Her head turned to you and the way her eyes met yours despite the sun making her squint made your heart ache, but you still couldn’t find it in you to cry. “I have to tell you something that might be hard to hear, so when I tell you, feel free to ask me any questions or tell me whatever you’re thinking or feeling. None of that will be bad or wrong, okay?” 

She nodded and with one last exhale, you told her.

“Your daddy got hurt really badly today and they had to take him to the hospital. The doctors did a bunch of stuff trying to help him but they weren’t able to fix what happened to him.” You hoped that was the right way to phrase it. 

“Daddy is dead?” Her voice sounded even more innocent than before and it broke you.

“Yea, Daddy is dead.” She had to hear those words, no matter how hard they were to say.

“Were you one of the doctors that tried to help him?” Her voice was so curious, like she didn’t really process much yet. 

Her question gutted you, bringing you back to being told by the police, everything you wished happened, how you wanted to be there at the hospital but weren’t. 

But you were here now and this is what would matter moving forward. 

“I wasn’t, Auntie Doc doesn’t work at the hospital anymore,” you answered her. 

“Oh,” it was a simple response from her. 

“You know how your daddy is my brother?” You looked out to the ocean. 

“Yea,” Lena did the same. 

“When I was about your age, he was just a liiiiittle older than me. He’d take me with him to the skate park with him and Uncle Pope, and never because he had to. No one told him to take me, but he always wanted to bring me. It was before we were living with Grandma Smurf, when we lived with our dad,” you looked back at Lena. 

“Daddy sometimes talked about his dad, he said his name was Rain,” Lena shrugged. 

“Yea,” you smirked, “Ray.” Continuing the story, you lifted your legs off the ground and started to swing slightly. 

“So at this skate park, I really couldn’t skate, Grandma Smurf got me a scooter I’d leave at her house because it was the easiest thing to do,” that made Lena giggle. “But this one time, I took this kid’s skateboard because I really wanted to skate like Daddy and Uncle Pope.” 

“Were you able to?” Lena asked curiously. 

“No,” you laughed. “I fell on one of the ramps and the skateboard came right back into me, I had scrapes and cuts all over me.” 

Lena made a yikes face. 

“I know,” you raised your eyebrows. “But your daddy, he got so mad,” you took a deep inhale. 

“At you?” Lena raised her voice. 

“Yea, at me and the boy whose skateboard I took,” you put your feet back down on the ground and looked at Lena. “He yelled at me and then he yelled at the boy.” 

“What did Uncle Pope do?” Lena’s eyebrows frowned. 

“He took care of me, cleaned up my scratches and he bought a bike from the skate shop so he could give me a ride and I didn’t have to limp my scooter home,” you remembered Pope putting his skateboard in his backpack and you standing on the pegs of the bike as he rode the brand new thing home. 

“That’s nice,” Lena nodded. 

“Yea, I just want you to know that sometimes Daddy got mad because he cared, it wasn’t the best way for him to act, but adults make mistakes sometimes too.” You weren’t trying to excuse Baz’s behavior, but you also didn’t want this girl going her whole life remembering the shitty things about her father and that’s it. When she was older she’d get a better explanation of the whys and hows of her father but this was the best you could give her now. 

“Okay,” She looked up at you. “What about Uncle Pope?” 

“What about him?” You slowed your swings. 

“What do you want me to know about Uncle Pope?” She asked and you couldn’t help but flare your nostrils and smile. 

“I want you to know that Uncle Pope will always take care of us.” You didn’t hesitate to answer. 

“Like he took care of you at the skatepark.” Lena didn’t phrase it as a question, just a statement. 

“Yes,” you nodded. 

“So both of my parents are dead?” The question came quickly and it hit you hard. You didn’t think how to respond first, your first thought was actually that Smurf had both of them killed and you felt that Blackwell anger bubble in you. You didn’t know if Smurf had Baz killed, but your intuition was telling you she did. You knew she had Cath killed, paid someone in her large pool of shitty contacts to do it. The more you thought about it, the more you actually didn’t care. Revenge wasn’t your thing, maybe if Lena wasn’t in the picture it would be, but getting even and proving a point couldn’t outweigh the responsibility of raising this little girl. She didn’t ask to be here, to be in this family. You owed it to her to show her a decent life. And a decent life didn’t include revenge. 

“Yea, they are. I’m sorry, kid.” You looked at her, searching her face for anything. 

“Where am I going to live?” Another question, this one you didn’t have an answer for. 

“I’m not sure about where yet, but I’m going to talk with some grown up people so you can live with me at my place or maybe I’ll move into your dad’s place,” you said. 

“I want to stay with you and Uncle Pope,” Lena’s voice got excited. 

Those words brought you back to a time when Deran had voiced those same words to you. Baz was running a job, Smurf had asked Deran to go with him and he fought against it. Begged and begged to stay with you and Pope at the house. It made sense, you were in the process of making rice krispy treats, showing them a semblance of attention they craved from their own mother. You asked him about it later, when he got back from helping out Baz, and he said that you and Pope didn’t make things feel worse. You had to wonder if that’s how Lena felt. 

 “Alright, well, I’ll let Uncle Pope know that. I think we can arrange for him to stay over tonight,” you weren’t going to promise forever because well, that was something you were battling with for years. A forever with Pope. 

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 8:34PM

Dinner was scattered all over the table, dishes, food scraps, empty glasses of soda. You were in the kitchen, Lena standing on the island, dancing to the music that was blasting through the TV. Your hands were on her waist, a safety precaution in case she stumbled, you’d be able to catch her. Her laughs filled you with a joy that was unexplainable. Lena had picked a fun playlist and currently Spice Up Your Life by the Spice Girls. The concert music video was on the TV and you were quick to grab Lena and bring her to stand on the couch, you standing in the spot next to her. “Alright Lena-love, I’m gonna introduce you to The Spice Girls, this is like the ultimate girl-power group and we’re gonna dance just like them in this video,okay?” You started moving on the couch and she copied you, swaying around, you stepped down and turned to her, grabbing her hands and showing her the dance moves, you’d seen the movie a million times, they were somehow embedded into your brain. Lena’s smile was as wide as it could go, her laughs were loud and as the beat dropped you picked her up. Slam it to the left, If you're havin' a good time, Shake it to the right. You moved her and dipped her in both directions and then twirled her around. Now it was your turn to laugh, you were almost out of breath when you placed her back on the couch and pointed her attention to the TV and moved to the kitchen to grab some water. 

Pope’s eyes were on both of you until you moved, then they stayed on you. As you closed the fridge, and chugged half of a cold bottle of water, you looked at him and chuckled with a shake to your head. 

“What?” 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you have this much fun since we were kids,” he shrugged. 

“I loved the Spice Girls,” you took another sip. 

“Oh I know, you used to watch the movie when we were teenagers all the time,” his eyebrows raised. 

“Movie?!” Lena turned around, moving her hands like the Spice Girls were. 

You almost spit up your water but managed to keep it down. “We’ll watch it sometime soon, kid. Keep having fun.” 

Plopping down on the chair next to Pope at the breakfast bar, you still felt his eyes on you, but you kept yours on Lena. 

“Uncle Pope, come dance with me!” Lena called out as the song changed to ABBA. 

“You can’t say no to her, you know you can’t,” you smirked. 

While Pope got up, he didn’t do much but stand there and hold his hands out for Lena to use as a steadyment to jump up and down to, but you’d be lying if hearing Dancing Queen while Pope twirled Lena around wasn’t making your heart sing. 

After a few more songs, Lena had eventually passed out in Pope’s arms, his swaying back and forth was enough to lull her into a sleep even with the music still being so loud. 

You moved to the remote and lowered the volume, then rested your hand on the back of Lena, moving her long brown hair out of her face just to see how peaceful she was snoozing. 

“I think we did a good job keeping her mind off things tonight,” you whispered. 

Pope whispered back to you,“I’m gonna put her in her bed.” 

You followed him, standing in the doorway you saw how gently he placed her in her bed, the way he moved her hair and tucked the blanket over her. As he turned around, he froze for a minute when he saw you watching. All you did was bring one finger up to your lips and let out a silent shush. He tip-toed towards you, closing the door behind him while you just scaled the frame so you were on the opposite side of it. He was next to you, maybe 6 inches from you, the music was still at a low hum in the background, the lights were dim, the ocean waves could be heard from the open windows now, the breeze coming in from the same place. 

Pope gave you a nod. “How are you feeling?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve kind of been avoiding thinking about anything.” You shrugged, your hands resting on the frame behind you. 

“Do you want to think about it now?” Pope asked the question, his voice searching for an answer. 

“I don’t think I ever want to think about it,” you let out a scoff that was mixed with a laugh. But even as you said that, you didn’t really mean it. You wanted answers, you just weren’t sure how. “I don’t want Lucy anywhere near this fucking house, that I could tell you.” Your voice changed, anger laced in every word. 

“Lucy isn’t coming here,” Pope spoke so effortlessly. 

“She isn’t getting custody of Lena,” you spat that out just as fast. 

“She isn’t getting custody of Lena.” Pope repeated what you said to confirm it as well. 

“She wants to live with you and me,” you let your voice soften, a smile growing at your lips. 

“You and me?” Pope frowned. 

“You and me.” You confirmed, looking up from the ground your eyes met his and you saw how confused he was. “She asked me where she was going to live and I told her I wasn’t sure, maybe my place, maybe I’d move here. But I was going to talk to the grown ups to make sure she’d stay with me, and I think her exact response to that was I want to stay with you and Uncle Pope.” 

“I can stay here,” he shrugged like it was no big deal, “or your place if that’s where you want her,” he paused and caught your eyes, “if you’re okay with that.” 

“I’m okay with that,” you nodded. It was not the time to read into emotions, it really wasn’t. But you were looking to cling to anything that wasn’t sad right now, anything that wasn’t a reminder of your dead brother. And this? Pope living with you? You raising Lena together? Your mind clung to that, so did your heart. You felt butterflies, butterflies. On the day of your brother's death, and here you were feeling happy. 

If you want to play fucking house with Pope be my guest, but don’t do it with my kid.

Baz’s words echoed in your brain and you’d do anything to get them out. 

That’s why you reached your hand out and let your finger run down Pope’s arm. Instinctively, you looked down at him, his body was closer to you than his face, even if he was standing there almost motionless. His chest was moving up and down, and despite your eyes trailing down him, he stayed on your face, your eyes. 

You moved just an inch closer to him, your finger lightly brushing against the hem of his button up. His breath felt like a glass of water to your face, waking you up from everything. It gave you the edge you needed, instead of pulling away, you brought your hand up his forearm, brushing your fingers slightly up his exposed skin. His goosebumps gave you your own but you just used them as fuel to move closer to him, your chest against his now. He moved his head against yours and that’s when you felt his hands move up to grip your face. That was all the action you needed to move your lips to his. 

This was different from the first time you kissed Pope. This was slow, intimate, sensual. The first time was instinctual, physical, no romantic tension to be found. 

It’s why you were surprised your knees didn’t buckle right now, or maybe they did and he just held you up so strongly with his grip on you. 

You had waited years for this. After that one night years ago, where he took you on the floor of your house’s bedroom, it was all you could think about. How amazing it was but how amazing it could have been if you both really let your guards down. 

This would be the first time you’d both do it knowing what it meant for both of you.

You felt your entire body sing, the serotonin mixed with the adrenaline coursing through your veins made you get a little sloppy in how you guided his lips on yours, the dancing of your mouths became a bit more like a drunken makeout but you didn’t care. This was the closest to drunk you ever wanted to be ever again. Pope’s lips on yours and his hands gripping you like you belonged to him. Your hands went to his buttons, undoing a few of the bottom ones before trailing your hands up to the top ones and undoing a few of those. Your knuckles brushed against his adam's apple while you unbuttoned the top button. It sent a rush down your body and his. As you pulled away to gasp for air from the rush of it all, that’s when Pope shook his head and took a step back. 

“No, we can’t do this.” 

Then it all shattered. 

“What’s wrong?” You whispered it so low you weren’t even sure if he heard you. 

“Us, we— you’re Baz’s sister, you’re not—we’re not supposed to do this.” He was getting caught on his words, stuck in his thoughts that weren’t able to come out as a string of conscious words at the moment. 

“We could have a normal life,” you whispered it again, you felt everything in you change. You weren’t able to pull any of this back in. The tension that had built up between you two for decades had been sliced wide open, everything was gushing, pooling at the ground, there was no more hiding anything. And because of that, you were going to say or do anything to get this, you’d beg, you’d let every fucking thought, every feeling, everything out in this moment. 

“What’s normal?” Pope’s voice cracked. 

“This!” You raised your voice now, not in a yell but in a plea of desperation. “Coming home, eating dinner, dancing in the fucking kitchen,putting Lena to bed, trying to stay quiet in the bedroom as you love me, sitting on the porch afterwards and watching the waves, driving for ice cream at 2AM, heating up milk on the stove if Lena wakes up, a normal fucking life, Pope.” You didn’t realize you had started to cry. 

“Nothing is normal, my family is the farthest thing from normal, we are the farthest thing from normal.” Pope’s voice was cracking, his own cries clawing at his throat. 

He had to be repeating some sentiment from Smurf, you saw how he looked at you, how he watched you, how he cared for you. 

“Smurf never wanted us together because she knew I’d take you away. She knew she’d lose you to me. She made sure you saw Catherine and then that Catherine saw Baz. Every good thing that came into our lives that you gravitated towards..you craved it—craved it Pope. You longed for it. And Smurf took that and ruined it for you. Ruining every chance to leave this fucked up life behind you.” You stepped closer to him, grabbing his hand in yours. “But I’m here, with that little girl and we’re begging you, come start a good life with us.” 

That must’ve done something because he just stood silent, his tears lightly falling, not sobbing just racking his brain around your words. His hands gripped around yours and you did the one thing you’d regret. You said it. It was the last card to play, although you weren’t playing a game at all, you were just hopeful that this would go how you’d always imagined it. He’d kiss you, he’d take you, he’d be yours. He’d say it back. 

Wrong. 

“I love you.” 

“I can’t love you how you want me to.” 

Everything stopped. Your ears did that thing, not a ringing, but just made everything silent around you. Desperation filled you. The despairing cry in your throat came out first, the sound of a broken heart, the sound of everything crumbling. Instead of taking it with stride, you did everything but drop to your knees in prayer.

“You already do!” You yelled, despite Lena sleeping in the room right next to you. “Do you not see it, Pope? You see me, you look for me in a room full of people, you know my favorite things, you stand up for me, you protect me, I don’t even say anything and you know what I’m thinking—what I’m feeling. For God sakes Pope, we’ve loved each other since we were kids!” 

“How can you love me?” He was genuinely asking. Just when you thought your heart couldn’t break more, he hit you with that line and it shattered into a million pieces. 

“I just do, it’s the easiest thing to me, it’s like breathing, I just do.” Your answer came just as easy as loving him was. 

“Love isn’t easy.” He argued that point with you. 

“Not in the way you think, the love you know is conditional. Based on performance, and loyalty, the love I have for you is unconditional, Pope. Always. No matter what. It always has been.” There it was, the plea, but you already knew how this ended. It’s how everything you loved ended. Your career, your brother, now Pope. You should’ve known better. 

 “Of all the things we have to be scared of and we choose love.” You laughed, almost in disbelief, taking a step back now, your hand dropping out of his. 

“I can’t do this Pope,” you shook your head and wiped your tears. “Baz picked and chose when he wanted to be there and I can’t have someone else pick and choose. Not anymore. If you can’t realize what’s in front of you then I can’t do this, I can’t be in this fucking limbo anymore just waiting and hoping for you to touch me, to kiss me, to love me. If you won’t choose me then I choose me.” 

“Don’t—don’t do that.” Pope’s mouth scrunched up, the frustration turning into anger. 

“Do you remember the night before you got arrested for the bank robbery? I had walked to the skatepark and you were the only one there, we sat on the top of the ramp and talked for a bit,” You wiped the tears again, you weren’t sure why, they just kept coming. “I asked you why can’t we do what makes us happy.” You let out a laugh. “However many years later and I’m asking myself the same question.” You ran your hand over the crown of your head. “You should go,” you shook your head. 

Pope said your name, his own pleading cry. 

You didn’t say anything else, just turned to retreat to the back of the house. There was a part of you, the last part of you that was holding onto the hope that Pope would follow you, he’d stop talking and let his actions show you his words meant nothing. But there was nothing. Just silence. You let your back slide down the back door as you brought your legs up to your chest and sat on the floor, hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, your eyes squeezed shut like you could will yourself into a sleep and wake up from this entire nightmare of a day. 

When you heard the front door open and close, you let the cry come out as audible. The crack in your throat as the final piece of you broke, you fell over on the ground, gripping your hand to your chest as the sobs released. It was a mix of everything. 

The loss of Pope. Everything you kept to yourself in fear of rejection, in fear of losing him now all out in the open with the one result you dreaded. While you spent years keeping everything at bay, the possibility was always there. It’s what made everything bearable. It was a possibility. But now you grieved that possibility. The idea of you sharing a home, having a life. You got a taste of it tonight, maybe that’s why it hurt this bad, like someone stuck their hand in your chest and twisted your heart before pulling it out and stepping on it. 

You sobbed on the floor, the cries aching in your body didn’t make you feel numb like you wished they did, they just made you feel everything. You wailed, it wasn’t loud, it was almost silent if anything. There couldn’t be a place lower than this. 

Dockie. 

You felt like you heard your brother. Your cries paused, your eyes opening and before you could think, you were standing up, moving through the house, using the walls and door frames as balance, your head spun from sobbing on the floor and getting up so fast. 

“Baz?!” Your swollen eyes searched for him, your tone hopeful like you knew he’d be there.  

As you stood in the empty living room, the grief punched you in the gut. There was no response, no answer to your cry. Just you. 

 The loss of your brother. There was no fixing your relationship, no closure, no last words. You’d never hear him call you Dockie again. The thing you hated since you were a kid, suddenly you held an ache in your soul for it. He’d never place a peck on the side of your face again, or remind you of something you tried so desperately to forget. He’d never yell at you, never argue with you, never make you feel small. Everything you couldn’t stand, and yet here you were missing it. Wishing for one last moment to experience it. Then there were the good things, when you’d laugh. He’d just catch your gaze from across the room and you’d burst into laughter over some inside joke–sibling same brain thought. When you’d finish a job and he’d jump on your back like he was a kid and scream like a maniac. The times he’d whisper to Lena to go tell you that you were her favorite Aunt. 

It was sudden, like a flip of a switch, you stopped crying. Your face went neutral, this time when you wiped your face it was the last of the tears you’d wipe away. Quickly, you moved to the bathroom, tossed water on your face and pulled your phone out of your back pocket. Suddenly, with a dial, you called the last person you thought you’d call tonight. 

“Hey, do you wanna come over?” 

2009 - Moving In  

When you bought your house, you didn’t hire movers, you bamboozled your brother and the Cody boys to do all the heavy lifting. You didn’t even pack much from Smurf’s. You bought all new stuff, a new bed, a new dresser, a couch, but they were the ones building and moving things where you wanted. It had been a long day. At this point, Craig had broken a lamp, thrown a wrench out of frustration as he built your coffee table, and was now sitting on stool, eating the pizza you bought. Deran had unpacked about 15 boxes for you, asked you why you had certain things almost double that amount of times, and was currently walking in from grabbing a 24 pack of beer for your fridge. Baz had been the least helpful, he had brought in a few boxes, made some judgement slights as he walked through the place and then just leaned against one of your walls as kept a watchful eye. Currently, he was probably back at his place, far away from the unpacked mess of this house. Pope, well Pope was redoing the furniture Craig built and getting a jump start on other ones. He kept to himself, organizing things and just being a huge help. While you were in the kitchen with Craig and now Deran, Pope was still working, putting things together. 

“Doc, beer is the first thing you buy when you buy a house, it’s a luck thing, c’mon.” Deran lifted the case and pushed it into the bottom rack of the fridge. 

“24-pack?” You raised your eyebrows. 

“That’s enough for me and Deran, what will you drink?” Craig laughed, his hand wrapped around the slice of pizza. 

“I got her that boxed wine shit,” Deran laughed, his other hand showing the small box of red wine. 

“The place looks good,” Craig was looking around the house. “I just don’t get why you don’t wanna paint the outside, the turquoise is a choice.” 

“I didn’t realize you were an interior decorator,” you moved to grab a beer from the case Deran just bought, one for you and one for Craig since Deran had already grabbed for himself.

“I’m not,” he let out a laugh, “exterior,” he thought the joke was hilarious since he had been referring to the outside of your house. 

“I think the teal’s got charm, it’s very Doc.” Deran jumped up on the counter while you moved to continue to unpack the kitchen boxes. 

“Pope!” You yelled out to him, “Come eat!” Turning back to the other Cody’s you shook your head. “The exterior paint stays, you two go.” 

“Hey!” Craig lifted his hands up while Deran just laughed. 

“I love you both, thank you for helping me, finish eating, take beers with you to go and I’ll see you here tomorrow, I’m tired, after Pope eats I’m going to bed.” You explained why you were kicking them out. 

Pope didn’t come out by the time Deran and Craig left, it's why you found yourself arm crossed and leaning against the doorway. “I see that your hands work but your ears don’t.” 

“I wanted to finish putting your bed together so you had a place to sleep tonight,” he didn’t bother looking up from what he was doing. Tossing the mattress onto the bed frame he built, putting the sheets on for you. 

“I can make a bed, Pope.” You smiled and he paused to look at you. 

“You’re tired,” he saw the droop in your eyes immediately.

“I am, but that’s not why I’m telling you to stop, I want you to eat something, you’ve been non stop all day,” you were already out of the doorway and moving to the kitchen. You came back with the box of pizza, two beers and a roll of paper towels. “Eat.” 

You both sat crisscrossed on the floor, the pizza box open and now practically empty, the box wine had made its way in the room too, you were about 5 glasses in at this point, Pope had his empty beer glasses lined up next to him in an orderly line. 

“It’s a nice house,” Pope wasn’t looking around when he said it, just directly at you. 

“I hope to make it a home,” you pulled your legs up. 

“You will.” Pope nodded. 

“You just saying that?” You were looking around the room. 

“I don’t just say anything,” Pope said. “You always made your space feel…welcome,” he nodded as he searched for the word. 

“You saying that means more to me than you realize,” you finished the cup of wine. 

He nodded again, this time slow. “I realize.” 

There was a comfort in the air, the kind that only came from being in a space with someone that didn’t call for anything. There was no need to entertain, fill the silences, or be anything other than yourselves. You placed your cup down and then laid your back against the floor, your eyes staring up at the ceiling. 

“Do you remember that place Baz moved into when Smurf kicked him out of the place on The Strand?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. 

“The one that had the pipe that would leak on the couch.” Pope remembered it well. “I used to crash there when I’d fight with Smurf.” 

“I remember, because we’d share that nasty ass couch. You’d take the side that would drip.” You turned your head and realized he was now laying down next to you, your feet were in the opposite direction, but your heads were next to each other. 

“You said it had character,” Pope turned his head to look back at you. 

“I lied.” Your nostrils flared and you laughed. “Baz was one negative thought from jumping off a ledge, I had to keep him grounded.” 

“You keep all of us grounded.” Pope still kept his eyes on you. 

“Everyone but me,” you let out a soft exhale, your eyes training up to the ceiling. 

Pope didn’t say anything, but you felt the shift in the air, or maybe it was just in your head. You felt the heat in your face from the wine, the long day, the high of the fact you were finally out of Smurf’s. 

Turning your head back down from the ceiling and to Pope, you realized he hadn’t stopped looking at you. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Can’t help it,” he replied. “I should go,” he didn’t move when he said those words. “Call me if you need me to come over.” 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, you had a bunch of notifications from the hospital you worked at, but it was your week off so you ignored them. All you did was go to your contacts and hit Pope’s name and brought the phone to your ear. 

Pope frowned as his phone vibrated in his pocket, he answered it and brought it up to his ear, both of you still looking at each other. 

“Hey, do you wanna come over?” 

The joke landed, his smirk twitched up before he hung up. 

“It’s good to see you like this,” Pope nodded.

“Like what?”

“Happy,” he responded. 

“You want to see me happier?” You let the wine talk with that line. 

Pope didn’t say anything, just nodded. It was then that you leaned closer, you brought your lips on his. It was a quick peck at first, but when he leaned more into it you felt yourself let down every physical guard you had built up. You grabbed his shirt, bringing him closer to you, tossing your leg over his before you were on top of him, grinding your body onto his. He gripped your legs, moving you against him, his mouth opening as he gasped slightly. 

He sat up, bringing you up with him, his arms moving around your torso, pulling your shirt off as he did. You eagerly undid his pants just enough so that you could hold him in your hand, he pulled your shorts to the side and within seconds he was inside you. Both of you inhaling at the sensation. Your head fell back and you moaned in pleasure. He pumped in and out of you, his eyes never leaving you as he did. 

“Look at me,” he demanded in such a soft voice. 

Your eyes connected with his and it was like the feeling of him in you got ten times more sensitive. You felt a lump in the back of your throat, the emotion of years of pining coming to you right now. This wasn’t romantic, you couldn’t afford it to be. It was instinctual, it was safe. 

He pressed his mouth against your chest, his eyes still connected with yours. 

“Fuck,” you mumbled again and let your head fall back despite wanting to get lost in his eyes. 

As your head fell back, he moved to be on top of you, resting you gently against the floor of your room so he could pump into you. His arms were toned and your eyes caught the flex and release of his muscles as he gripped you and steadied himself on the floor. Your legs wrapped around him and your breath hitched with every movement in you. 

“Do I feel good?” you asked him because you knew his response would send you over the edge.

“You know how good you fucking feel,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “You feel amazing.” 

“Oh my god,” you closed your eyes and felt yourself hit your climax, each movement sending you a little further over the edge than before. “Keep going,” you felt yourself coming undone, your voice thready and messy. 

Your screams echoed against the empty walls of your apartment, along with you begging for Pope not to stop. 

“Flip over,” he mumbled into your ear and you obliged without any hesitation or fight, he brought your hips in his hands and continued to bring you back against him, one hand moving down your front to catch your clit in his hand. 

“If you do that, I’m gonna cum again,” your voice was still breathy. 

“Good,” he said it without any emotion, not like he was proud, not like he was needy, just content with the idea of it. 

As he thrusted in you you felt the release again, Pope pumping you through it. As your body went a little loose, he carefully exited you and let you lay on your back. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, sitting up on your elbows. 

“You’re tired,” he looked like he was going to get dressed. 

“You didn’t finish,” your brows furrowed. This had never happened to you before. 

“But you did, twice.” Even though he didn’t say it like he was proud, you could tell he was. 

“Cum in me,” you didn’t want this to get emotional, but you didn’t want this to end yet. “I get the shot, I can’t get pregnant.” 

“Are you–” Pope went to ask, not about you getting pregnant but about keeping this up.

“Yes, you feel good too, you know.” 

And with that, he reentered you and his hand gripped your neck to bring you down completely on him. He moved so deliberate and calculated, like he knew each spot he hit inside you in the order he did would unlock another climax out of you. You felt dizzy, your head was spinning in the best way possible, you never wanted this to end, but you couldn’t say that, wouldn’t say that. So you just enjoyed every second of him in you.

“Three times,” you whispered it since you felt the moan in the back of your throat. 

“Look at me,” his voice was low too, and you realized you were both about to release. 

He held you after, your head was against his chest and in all honestly you ached for this. Which is why you pulled your head up after a few minutes, any longer and you wouldn’t have been able to separate this from romance anymore. 

“We didn’t even test the bed you built,” you joked as you sat on your knees to collect your clothes. 

Pope didn’t say anything, just watched you. 

“Well I guess that was bound to happen, right?” You let the joke fall off your tongue as you grabbed your shirt. 

“Guess so,” Pope’s jaw tensed. 

“Not gonna be weird right?” You were trying to keep this together, make sure there were no fraying edges or fallout from this. 

“I’m not weird,” Pope looked at you now. 

That got you to chuckle. “You are, but I know you won’t be about this.” 

He twitched his mouth too. 

“I was serious before, call me if you need someone to come over. I know how lonely living alone can be.” Pope was fully dressed now. He didn’t mean for sex, he meant genuinely for company. You knew that without needing him to clarify.  

“Same goes for you. You can call me if you need to get out of the house, I know how lonely living in a house full of people can be.” You stood up and walked Pope to your front door. 

There were no more words exchanged between you, he just occasionally looked over his shoulder at you as he walked down your driveway, jacket in hand, swagger in his step. 

As you closed the door, you leaned against it and let yourself slide down so you were sitting on the ground, knees to your chest and hands in your scalp. 

You couldn’t let that happen again. Not unless it was for real. For good. 

Present Day - The Day After Baz’s Death - 1:34AM

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Travis’ voice was smug, almost grossly. 

He was pulling his shirt back on his body as he stepped out of the shower while you continued to wash yourself off from the ick, washing your hair and your body. 

When he came over, you didn’t let him talk, you grabbed him into the shower that sat outdoors, it was still private, fully walled and closed in from wandering eyes outside, but it was a surfer’s shower, the place you went to clean off from the beach. It didn’t feel right to bring him in the house. It didn’t feel right to have him here at all, but you needed to do something to feel anything but the grief in you. 

You didn’t let him look at you, he stood behind you the whole time, you told him to shut the fuck up a few times too. It wasn’t worth it. That thought went through your brain as it was happening but you did make the most of it. 

“Told you it’s better not to be alone,” He was drying his hair off while you rinsed the shampoo and soap off your body. 

“You should go,” they were the same words you spoke to Pope, that wasn’t lost on you, but as you grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your body, you had no other desire right now than to be alone. 

Nothing made sense anymore. And you weren’t in the mood to deal with it. 

You walked into the house, Travis behind you still. As you walked into Baz’s room, you realized you had no clothes here. With a sigh, you opened his dresser, grabbed a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, it was a UCSD one that you bought him when you went to school. Tossing both on, you looked at Travis who was watching you from the bed. 

“Travis I’m serious, you should go, I have Lena tonight and I have to take her to school in the morning and I don’t really have it in me to explain anything else to her right now,” you moved to the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of water from the faucet. 

“I can sleep on the couch, you shouldn’t be alone, I mean your brother was shot here probably like this time last night,” he followed you and those words haunted you as he stood behind you. 

The slam of the faucet wasn't enough of a context clue for him. So when you turned around, eyes closed, you took a large gulp from the cup and nodded. “Leave through the back door, the front door will wake Lena.” You moved to her bedroom, the one place you knew he wouldn’t follow you. As you shut the door, you stood at the opposite side of the sticker covered door and looked down at your niece who was sound asleep. At first you just squatted down and watched her, occasionally sipping from your water glass. After about an hour, where you successfully thought of nothing but her peaceful snores, you decided to crawl in the bed with her, you didn’t dare try to cuddle with her, afraid it’d wake her up, but being there with her, felt like the only thing you ever needed again. And from how tonight went, it was safe to say it was probably the only good thing you’d ever have again. 

2010 - The Day Lena Was Born 

Pacing in the hospital was not how you expected this night to go. You were in a dress, the only one you really owned at this point of your life. It was the one you wore to graduation, the one you wore for your residency interview at the hospital, and now it was the one you wore at your brother’s wedding. And apparently his daughter’s birth, too. 

The courthouse was packed with people, apparently it was the day for weddings, there had to be about 20 other couples in the municipal building along with Catherine and Baz. And that wasn’t including their witnesses which was almost double that number. Pope was next to you, his leg bouncing up and down a bit as he sat straight up on the wooden bench. Both of you were the witnesses for Baz and Cath, he had on a button up shirt, black jeans, his hands resting on his knees. You placed your hand on his. 

“What’s going on in your head?” 

“I’ve never been to a wedding before.” Pope stopped moving his leg. 

“Me either,” you thought about it. 

“What do we do?” Pope asked. 

“This is a pretty straightforward wedding, I think we just sit and watch them, maybe sign something.” You looked around, seeing multiple couples get ushered in at once. 

“I think we get brought in with a group, we’ll probably be able to see what we need to do,” you pointed to the next group being brought in. 

“Alright,” he nodded. 

“It’s kind of nice, celebrating love.” You looked at the other couples around, all happy, close together, laughing and cuddling. 

“It doesn’t feel like us,” Pope was taking in the couples now. The wide smiles, the connecting arms, the heads resting on shoulders. 

“What doesn’t?”

“All of it, the flowers, the pressed clothes, the happiness…” Pope trailed off, almost disgusted as he looked around. 

“You iron your clothes,” you pushed your lips in a straight line, you knew what Pope meant, but you couldn’t help but tease him. Sometimes you felt like you were the only one he let get away with it.

“You know what I mean,” Pope didn’t look at you but nodded his head as he slightly turned it at you. 

Leaning back against the wooden bench along the back wall of the courthouse, your eyes fell on the back of Pope. 

“You don’t believe in it? Marriage?” You asked. 

“It’s nice,” the way he said it was like he was convincing himself of the words he was saying. “For other people.” 

“But not for you?” You didn’t mean to hammer him with questions, you were just curious what was going on in his brain. 

Pope didn’t answer, his eyes just fell down to your hands that were fidgeting in your lap. He rarely saw you dressed like this, he rarely saw you fidget either. 

“I believe in it for other people, too.” You spoke as you looked down at your hands. “But for people like us, it’s just out of place. But the notion is nice right? A partner who chooses you day in and day out, sees your flaws and still loves you, someone to go through life with.” 

“Sure, it’s a nice notion.” Pope agreed. 

“All we have are moments. Happiness… people say it’s a state of mind but in reality it’s just little moments in time that we pocket for later. For when we’re sad.” You knew it sounded crazy. 

Pope looked over at Baz and Cath, they were standing at the registrar’s desk, Baz had just leaned over and whispered in her ear, saying something that made her laugh. 

It was then that they called your group number, a few other people stood up too. Baz and Cath had already moved to the door, Pope stood up and straightened his collar and pressed down his shirt. You followed his movements and pressed the skirt of your dress down as you stood. 

“You ready?” You moved your arm to him so he could link his with yours. 

“For the wedding?” He placed his arm in a way so you had to link yours to his. 

“For the moment,” you whispered and playful brought him over to the line. 

The wedding was quick, but as you pulled up to the restaurant that they were holding their reception dinner at, Cath’s water broke before she even made it 5 steps in the parking lot. 

That’s how you ended up pacing in the hospital now. 

“You should sit down,” Pope was clearly anxious. 

You plopped down next to him, your breath exhaling dramatically. 

“I don’t like hospitals,” you said it through frustrated breath. 

That got Pope to look at you with a twisted face. 

“I don’t like waiting in hospitals, working them is different, I’m in control,” you explained, your leg shaking. 

“You want a coffee or something?” He thought of different ways to give you something to do. 

That earned him the same face he had recently made to you. 

“Decaf,” he corrected himself. 

“No, I’m fine. I just need to wait.” You sighed again. 

In a little over 15 minutes, you rested your head on Pope’s shoulder, your arms linked in his and your snores quietly brushed against his collar bones over his shirt. He didn’t move, he stayed frozen so as to not wake you up, but he’d occasionally try and sneak a glance at you. If not directly down at you then at the reflection in the glass window in front of him. 

It reminded him of all the couples he’d seen at the courthouse not that long ago. The ones that were happy. That didn’t feel like you guys. But suddenly held a pretty close resemblance to you. 

He stayed that way for 2 hours until Baz came out in the blue gown and gloves. “It’s a girl,” he whispered so he didn’t wake you up. “Do you want to meet her?” Baz asked Pope. His eyes immediately fluttered to you. 

“Yea, let me wake her up and we’ll meet you down in the nursery,” Pope nodded and tapped Baz’s side. 

“Hey,” Pope whispered to you. “Hey, hey,” a couple more times along with a shake and you were waking up. “It’s a girl, Baz said we can go meet her.” 

“A girl? Oh good, we need a girl.” You spoke through a raspy voice. 

“We need a girl?” Pope questioned your words. 

“We always need a girl, we’re outnumbered by you Cody boys.” You smiled, and brought Pope up with your arm still interlocked with his. 

You walked that way with him until you got to the nursery. Baz had a baby girl in his arms and you could have cried at the sight of it. “And this Lena, is your Auntie Dockie and your Uncle Pope,” Baz lifted his arm up so that the baby was easier for you to see. 

“Oh my gosh, she’s so beautiful,” you couldn’t take your eyes off her. “How’s Cath?” 

“She’s good, she’s tired,” Baz kept his eyes on Lena. “You wanna hold her?” Baz looked at you. 

All you did was nod, as he placed her in your arms, you felt your entire body shift. Those moments you mentioned earlier? The ones of happiness that you hold onto forever, this would be one of those moments for you. 

“Lena-love,” you cooed, today was a day that started out celebrating love and it only felt right to commemorate it with the love of someone that would bring you joy forever. “She’s perfect,” your voice cracked. 

Pope couldn’t take his eyes off you, if he thought seeing those couples earlier panged in his heart, this was even stronger. Seeing you hold a baby, a baby that you so clearly loved, that he so clearly loved and he only knew her for a few seconds. 

“You’re going to be so loved,” you cooed again. 

Baz had moved to sit down in the chair in the nursery, his eyes heavy as he watched his baby sister hold his baby. Pope stood close to you, looking over your shoulder at Lena. 

The baby bubbled her mouth, her saliva dripping from her mouth made you smile. “This is the moment, Pope.” You spoke slowly to him while keeping your eyes on Lena. “This is the moment we pocket.” 

Pope nodded, even though you didn’t see it. In his head, though, he already pocketed a lot of moments from today. This was just the cherry on top. 

Lena felt like the only thing you ever needed. The only thing either of you ever needed. 

Present Day - The Day After Baz’s Death - 6:03AM

Pope didn’t bother knocking, he used his key to let himself in through Baz’s front door. It was still early, he wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake, that’s why he brought breakfast and coffee, knowing there probably wasn’t anything of note in Baz’s fridge. 

To his surprise, that fridge was currently being raided by who he immediately could tell was a cop. It didn’t take long for it to click in his head that it was Travis Callahan. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh shit, hey Pope.” The man turned around startled. “Didn’t they tell you to never scare a cop,” he laughed as he placed the orange juice down on the table, opening the carton and not bothering to get a glass just sipping direct from the open spout. 

Pope didn’t laugh, just glared in disgust. “No.” 

“Oh nice, you brought breakfast,” Travis pointed to the brown bag in Pope’s hand. 

“For Doc and Lena.” Pope clarified.

“Oh yea, I think they’re still asleep,” Travis pointed to Lena’s room. 

“You slept here?” The question fired off rapidly from Pope.

“On the couch, I don’t think she wanted to be alone,” the man had turned to grab one of the boxes of cereal on the counter. 

“The couch?” Pope didn’t understand. 

“Yea, I think Doc’s in Lena’s room. Haven’t checked. But I didn’t check the bedroom either.” Travis wasn’t looking at Pope anymore.

Pope didn’t give this conversation any more attention, he just walked down the hall to the back bedroom where he saw the bed was untouched, still made and unslept in. As he turned around he saw the discarded clothes that trailed from the bathroom to the outdoor shower and that told him all he needed to know. With a few more steps, he was in Lena’s room. Immediately seeing her body cuddled into yours as both of you let out heavy breaths that were bordering snores. 

He stared at you for a few minutes, wishing that he could have just lived in that moment forever, nothing else. No memories of before and no idea of memories to come, just both you and Lena at peace. 

But he knew it couldn’t last, he leaned over and placed his hand on your shoulder to shake you awake. You startled, grabbing his forearm harshly, ready to fight, but when you weren’t met with force, you loosened your grip. 

“Scared the hell out of me.” You groggily cleaned your eyes and carefully climbed over Lena. Pope recognized your clothes, he hated to admit a slight feeling of relief that they didn’t belong to the asshole in the kitchen. It made whatever happened between you and the cop feel calculated and not special.  “What are you doing here?” 

“I brought breakfast,” Pope responded.

“I’m gonna let her sleep in a little bit, I don’t think she should go to school today, maybe in a couple days.” You were pointing towards her other door, the one littered in stickers that would open into the living room and kitchen versus the hallway. Pope walked out first, his eyes connecting with Officer Dickhead again as he waited for you to realize. 

“Um, look about last night,” you started to say when you heard Travis’s voice clear. 

“Yea about it,” he had the orange juice carton gripped in his hand again. 

Your head shot over to him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“I didn’t think you should be alone, who knows who killed your brother, and if they’d come back here and try and take you or Lena out next.” It was so disturbing how he’d just blurt things out without thought.

“Travis, I told you to leave last night.” You didn’t care about his reasoning for being here.

“Relax, I slept on the couch, I recorded Dexter’s Lab this morning too while I was watching it, for Lena.” He pointed to the TV. 

“You hear that? He recorded a cartoon for her.” Pope was getting some twisted form of enjoyment out of this.  

“Travis, get out.” You moved toward him now, grabbing the orange juice for him forcefully. 

“Hey come on, I had fun last night, don’t be like this.” He lifted his arms up. 

“Travis, leave.” You threw the carton into the sink, your way of trying to prove you weren’t in the mood for his grovelling.

“Come on, Dockie.” He pleased.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” It took everything in you not to punch his smug face. “Look, let’s not make this more than what it is, please just leave.” You took a breath trying to remain as calm as you could. 

Pope just stood there watching, waiting for it to escalate so he could intervene but knowing based on the three of yours conversation yesterday he would let you give him the okay to step in. 

“Alright, I’ll call you later.” Travis was leaving and while you wanted to tell him not to bother, you were ultimately winning since he was leaving. 

As you locked the door behind him, you turned back to the kitchen and started straightening up. Tossing the dry cereal Officer Asshole poured into the garbage, along with the orange juice. Wiping down the counters, organizing the area. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked Pope as you moved around the kitchen. 

“You told me that Lena wanted to stay with both of us,” Pope answered. The sentence didn’t have a lot of context. But it clicked in your head he was trying to keep the appearance that he stayed over for Lena.

“We should talk about how we’re going to do this, after last night I don’t know if you sleeping here or my place makes sense. I don’t want to confuse her,” that wasn’t what you meant, you didn’t want to confuse you. 

“Yea, we can figure it out.” Pope nodded, being entirely too gracious about everything right now. 

“I’ve run out of ways to fix this, Pope.” You slammed your hands on the tiled breakfast bar. 

“Fix what? What is there to fix?” Pope questioned. 

“Us!” Your voice hitched. 

“What about us?” Pope stepped closer, the counter between both of you. His question was probably misunderstood by you but the fact he couldn’t pick up on the fact that yours and his relationship just completely altered last night did something to your feelings. 

“You know what, just forget it.” You changed your tone and shook your head. 

“Forget what?” Another question you probably misunderstood but this one you couldn’t hide your reaction. 

“Jesus Christ, the questions, the questions!” You raised your hands. “Forget everything! Forget everything that happened we’ll just go back to whatever the fuck it was before this. You stare, I say nothing. Forget I said anything.” You gave him the answer you thought he wanted. 

“You said you loved me.” Pope didn’t change his tone. 

“What do you want?” Your voice practically shrieked. “You say you can’t love me the way I want, and now you can’t forget what I said, fine then here hold this line, I thought I loved you but I don’t. I don’t love you. I hate you. I hate what you fucking do to me. I hate what you make me feel because it's pointless. It's useless. It’s for nothing. And it’s not even your fault, this was my fate from the beginning. Baz wasn’t supposed to make it through Ray’s beatings. He was supposed to die a lot earlier, I was always meant to be alone. This—this is just fate catching up to me. Loneliness is seeped into my fucking DNA, it’s imprinted into my genetic fucking code. I’ll raise Lena and she’ll come drop off boxed fucking wine for me and cat food while I sit on a fucking couch too drunk off my ass to care. Baz gets death while I get to have everything in me die inside while I’m still alive.” 

The words echoed in you, Pope’s eyes gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You stood there, staring at him. Both of you staying silent, and yet it got too loud for you. You didn’t bother staying in the kitchen, you barreled past him and plopped down on the steps on the front porch. As you did, you were reminded of the last time you talked to your brother. 

2017 - 2 Days Before Baz’s Death

Sometimes, sitting alone at your place got loud in a really quiet way. It’d make you open the windows, fill the nothingness with something. White noise, the sounds of people laughing outside as they walked by, the waves, maybe a dog barking or a kid laughing. Anything but silence. Sometimes that wasn’t enough, you’d sit on your back porch, which arguably made it worse. It was fully fenced, you couldn’t see anyone, couldn’t hear much either. Something so many people would kill for and the irony was that it was killing you. That’d leave you to talk a walk along The Strand. You’d bring a pack of cigarettes, maybe a glass of wine if you knew you’d be out for a while. Tonight, the walk was long, you ended up walking down to Baz’s. You weren’t sure if the looks you got as you strolled were because your face was beaten to shit, bruised and battered but healing from getting attacked by Javi and his crew a little over a week ago, or because you had a full glass of wine in your hand. The thing with recovering from the injuries you had, it started to look a lot worse before it looked better. Hence the alcohol. 

Baz’s front porch was arguably one of your favorite places. It had everything. The noise, the people, the waves. You plopped down on the steps, glass now pretty empty as you did. You mindlessly played with the strings of your hoodie as you watched it all, picking up pieces of conversations of the people that passed. 

Someone talking about their weekend dinner plans, a group of girls talking about one of their exes, another group singing a song together, a group of guys betting on some sports thing on their phone. 

You heard the door open behind you but didn’t bother looking, you knew it’d be someone familiar. 

As you felt someone sit down next to you, you then heard the sound of your wine glass being filled. Looking up, Baz had plopped down next to you, the UCSD hoodie you gave him on and a glass of red wine tipped as he poured the remainder of it into your glass. Following that, he brought his beer towards the rim of your glass and clinked them together. 

At the sound you both pulled away and brought the glasses up to sip from. 

The two of you sat there, people watching. 

Some conversations were tough, a woman on the phone with her sister talking about hospice care for their mother, a couple who had been arguing about something a lot bigger than both of them, two young siblings calling each other stupid. But then there were the others, the parents who pulled those same siblings apart and made them apologize immediately. The siblings were skipping down the sidewalk in seconds like nothing happened. Then there was the couple who had just gotten engaged, an older gentleman who was linked arm and arm with someone close to his age and said he had a really good first date with her. 

“You ever think about what life should’ve been?” Baz’s voice cut through all of it. 

You didn’t answer right away, you thought about his question for a bit. 

“I do,” you nodded, taking a sip of the wine. “Do you?” 

“Never used to, I think I was so used to just trying to survive the day.” He let out a sigh. 

“But now?” Your eyes jumped over to him. 

“I think life should’ve been a lot different.” He smirked. 

“I think if life had it’s way we’d be rotting in a double wide right now,” you scoffed. 

“I should’ve gotten us out earlier.” Baz had never been this sentimental before and it made you weary. 

“Why are you saying this?” The frown on your face mixed with you straightening your back was enough to show Baz you were concerned. 

“Relax, I’m not jumping off any buildings,” he let out a chuckle. “I just mean, I should have found a different way for us, bringing us to Smurf’s, it was the worst thing I could have done.” 

“We were kids Baz, anything was better than getting beaten to pulp,” you tried to brush him off. 

“She’s been keeping money from us,” Baz admitted. 

“From you,” you corrected him. “I get my percentage and keep it pushing.” It was true, maybe that was the only benefit of your deal with Smurf, you didn’t feel like there was anything being hidden, you had a deal that worked and stuck with it. 

“I’m leaving for Mexico, with Lena and Lucy.” There was the real thing he had been trying to get at this whole time. 

“To see what some of that should’ve been life has for you?” You let your eyes train back on the horizon. 

“Something like that,” he shrugged, finishing his beer now. “I’m sorry about the hospital job.” 

Those were words that you never expected to hear from your brother, so when your head snapped to see if he was just being a dick, your eyes went wide to be met with a beyond serious Baz. 

His eyes were already on you when he spoke the apology, they were low, almost disappointed in himself. 

“Smurf wanted to bring you in, but I told her no, that I didn’t want to fuck up what you had. I wasn’t supposed to use your badge. I was in the breakroom, I was talking to that nurse that always talks about her parakeets and thought I was grabbing her badge but I guess you left your jacket in there.” 

“I gave her my sweatshirt that morning and didn’t realize I didn’t take off my ID, I was charting for the rest of the day so I never noticed,” you gave him context.

“By the time I realized it was yours, it was too late,” Baz was still looking at you. “I didn’t mean to fuck up your should’ve been.” 

You felt your throat get tense, your eyes got heavy as well. “My should’ve been was always fucked.” 

“Come to Mexico with us,” Baz asked like he had been waiting for the right time for the opportunity to ask you to come up. 

With a deep sigh, a little laugh as well, you looked back at the horizon. “I—I don’t know.” 

“You could get your license down there, I looked it up. Lena would be happy to have you close. You could meet someone, get married, have a kid,” he shrugged. 

“You got it all figured out, huh?” You held back a smile as you looked back at him. It was incredibly nice that he looked into it, that he thought about you. But there was a lot holding you back from that too. Well, maybe not a lot. But one thing that you held onto, that always felt like a possibility. 

“Maybe Pope would move down after he’s off probation,” Baz could read your mind sometimes. 

“I don’t know if Pope is apart of my should’ve been,” you answered. 

Baz let out a light laugh. “Pope is the biggest should’ve been in your life next to being a doctor.” 

You just gave him a look. 

“You and him are written in the stars. He doesn’t just watch you, Dockie. He looks for you. When you walk into a room I feel like I can hear his heart practically jump through his skin.” Baz was now looking out at the horizon. “And you well, you’ve pined after him for years.”

You stayed silent, not really sure what to say to that. 

“You two are so different and yet so fucking similar.” He laughed. “If you don’t want to come to Mexico, I get it. But either way, you should leave. Go do something for you for once.” 

You handed him your now empty wine glass and stood up, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt up over your head. “Thanks for the wine.” 

“Anytime.” He stayed sitting on the stairs. 

You leaned down, placing a quick peck on his temple, it was usually what he did to you, and the action made him audibly laugh. 

Turning, you skipped down the steps, opened the gate and took a few steps down the sidewalk before turning around and looking at him. 

“I’ll think about Mexico,” you nodded. “I just need some time to think about my should’ve been.” 

Baz nodded. 

“And thanks, for the apology,” you waved your hand awkwardly. 

“Love you, Dockie.” Baz was standing up to go back inside his house. 

Nodding, you continued to take a few steps, this time backwards. “Love you too, big brother.” 

That was the last conversation you had with Baz. He was shot two days later.

 Present Day - The Day After Baz’s Death - 6:45AM

It got too loud inside and all you and Pope were doing was staring at each other for minutes. But the windows had been closed, the sliding door was latched and locked, most of the curtains were pulled down too, and those caught a lot of the noise pollution too. It was so silent that your head felt like it was in the middle of a 500 person crowd. Without a second thought, you made a run for the front door. Plopping down on the steps of the porch, you ran your hands over your face. Every thought, every mocking voice you had on repeat in your head suddenly disappeared. The waves filled the background, it was morning so The Strand was busy. There were surfers talking about their morning waves. Kids with backpacks making their way to school, you were able to pick up a few pieces of gossip. Hailey was sleeping with Mike, Ben had gotten a decent weed plug. There was the neighbor who talked to her daffodils. All of it brought you a comfort that you had been craving. 

You heard the footsteps before hearing the door. You knew his steps better than anyones. He was next to you in a matter of seconds, a lukewarm cup of coffee in his hand that he was handing over as he sat down next to you. 

“You ever think about what life should’ve been?” The question rolled off your tongue before you even took a sip. 

Pope didn’t answer. 

“I do. Well, I have been. Lately.” You answered it in hopes Pope would eventually give you his answer. 

“I used to imagine what life could’ve been like for us. To help me sleep.” Pope was looking down at his hands. 

“For you and Julia?” You lifted your head to look over at him. 

“For me and Julia, for you and Baz, for Deran and Craig, for you and me,” Pope answered. 

“Could’ve and should’ve are different.” You were trying to make a point. 

“Yeah,” he let that one word hang in the air a bit before continuing, “they’re different.” He rubbed the back of his knuckles like he was trying to erase something only he could see. 

You waited for more, knowing it was highly unlikely he’d give that to you. But to your shock, he looked up from his hands, not exactly at you, but past you. Like he was watching the past crawl back onto this porch with you. 

“But it should’ve been different.” 

“It can be different.” There you were again. Pleading with him. While he was dredging up the past you were pulling for your future.

“If there’s a version of our lives where we got away from this, from Smurf… I don’t think I ever made it there. Not even in my head.” Pope’s eyes were filled with tears and suddenly you got it. 

He was punishing himself. 

You were collateral damage in that. Or maybe, you made yourself collateral damage. 

“In my head, our should’ve been exists. It’s here, in front of us–a reality now. A real possibility. And when you’re ready I’ll be here,” your waterline pooled with water, tears didn’t fall but they were close to it. 

Pope kept quiet, the silence stretching between you two. It was weighted, similar to the tension that built between you both for years, except that was weighted in what could’ve been. This? This was weighted in what should’ve been. 

Your words hurt more than they healed. He nodded almost subtly, like he wasn’t agreeing or disagreeing with you, just acknowledging that he heard you. Then, he stood up, his body casting a shadow over you, he moved quickly, like he knew it was wrong in his head but this was something he needed to do. He placed a kiss on the left side of your face, a quick peck but you felt the linger of it even as he pulled away. 

And despite the quick movement of that, as he walked away he did that slowly, gradually, as if not to crack the fragile thing you had hanging between you still. 

He got to the opposite side of the gate before pausing and looking just slightly over his shoulder. 

“I don’t know how to live in that version.” He awkwardly moved his neck, like the next words were hard for him to admit to. “But I wish I did.”

Dividers by @realitycanbewhateveridesire ♥️ 🍺 Animal Kingdom Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @princesssunderworld  (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

[camficdiner]

Hi 😊 I love your work!

1.2 2.6 3.1 4.3 please?

☕ Cam’s Fic Diner — Order 038

🍒 thank you!

To the sweetheart who ordered this: soft boys with busted lips and even softer crushes? You’re speaking my language. Hope this stitched-up story gives you all the butterflies 💉💗

💬 “Split Open, Wide Open”

✨ description & prompts

character: Quinn Hughes

prompt: You’re Brock Boeser’s sister, a nurse on night shift. After Quinn splits his lip during a game, Brock begs you to stitch him up. He shows up bruised and beautiful… and maybe that’s the night everything changes.

word count: ~1.9k

type: fluff, slow burn, soft invitation, quiet pining, late night tenderness

⸻

You were on hour ten of your twelve-hour night shift when your phone buzzed. Again. You ignored it — until you saw the name.

Brock.

You slipped into the empty hallway outside triage and answered, voice taut.

“Brock, it’s three in the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Look—don’t kill me, okay? It’s for Quinn.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest.

“What happened?”

“He took a puck to the face. His lip’s split bad. It’s… it’s bleeding a lot. Team doc’s out, and he doesn’t want stitches from a stranger. He’s on his way to your hospital.”

You blinked. “Are you serious?”

“You’re the only one he trusts,” Brock said quietly. “Please?”

Ten minutes later, Quinn Hughes walked into your ER with a towel pressed to his mouth, eyes glassy, jaw tight. And he was still stupidly handsome.

He was quiet as you led him to an empty exam room, his steps careful, the blood blooming through the towel in slow, sticky streaks. The second the door shut behind you, you couldn’t help it.

“I told you to wear a cage.”

“I’m not even your patient yet,” he mumbled through the towel.

“You’re about to be.” You tugged on gloves. “Sit down and shut up.”

He smiled — or tried to. It just made him wince.

You examined the cut. The skin was torn straight through, lower lip swollen, bruising starting to crawl down toward his chin.

“You need stitches.”

“I figured.” He looked at you — really looked at you — and then whispered, “You’re still wearing the same necklace.”

You froze.

He meant the gold one, the tiny ‘B’ charm your dad gave you and Brock before he passed. You wore it every shift. You didn’t think Quinn would notice.

But of course he did.

You cleared your throat and started prepping the suture kit. “It’s going to hurt.”

He tilted his head. “You mean emotionally or physically?”

You gave him a look. “Don’t be cute.”

“You always say that, and yet here I am.”

You bit back a smile and numbed him up, cleaned the cut, and stitched him slowly — careful, steady, even though your heart was thudding the entire time. His eyes never left yours.

When you finished, he touched your wrist gently.

“Thanks for fixing me up.”

You stepped back, tearing off your gloves. “All in a night’s work.”

But then he said it.

“Come over.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Just for a while. You’re off soon, right?” His voice was soft. “I won’t sleep anyway. I… I don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

You looked at him — swollen lip, messed-up curls, exhausted eyes.

“I’m Brock’s sister,” you whispered.

He nodded. “I know. But you’re also you. And I’ve been trying not to ask you that for months.”

Your breath caught. “I can’t.”

“Okay,” he said simply. “Had to try.”

You turned away quickly, gathering supplies, tossing gloves, wiping down the tray.

You were halfway to the door when he said, quieter:

“…But if you change your mind, you know where I live.”

⸻

You sat in your car for ten minutes after your shift ended, hands on the wheel.

You didn’t know what made you turn the engine back on and head toward his apartment. You just… did.

⸻

He opened the door in sweats and a hoodie, ice pack in one hand.

“Didn’t expect you.”

“You asked.”

He stepped aside. You walked in.

Silence. Then:

“I’m not trying to make it weird,” he said. “I just… I miss you.”

You turned to him. “We’ve never even dated.”

He smiled sadly. “Yeah, but I think about it all the time. What if we had?”

You swallowed.

“I don’t want Brock to hate me.”

“I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t look for you at every game,” he said. “And I don’t think Brock would be surprised.”

You looked at him for a long moment — then gently reached up, touched the bandage on his lip.

“You always get hurt when I’m on shift.”

“Maybe I do it on purpose.”

You laughed — softly, nervously — and he smiled.

That was all it took.

You kissed him.

Gently, carefully, hands in his hoodie, the heat of his skin beneath your palms. His lips were warm, wounded but willing. He groaned quietly into your mouth, pressing you back into the wall like he’d been waiting all season for this.

“I thought you said no,” he murmured against your cheek.

“I changed my mind.”

“Good.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, mouth parted, hands curled in your hair. He tasted like clean laundry and cherry chapstick, and when you slipped your arms around his waist, he whispered, “Stay. Please.”

And this time, you said yes.

⸻

Fast-forward — next morning

You woke up wrapped in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest. His lip was still puffy, but the smile on it was real.

“Do you regret it?” he asked, voice raw.

You shook your head. “Not even a little.”

“Good,” he whispered. “Because I’d really like to see where this goes.”

You smiled.

“I think you already know.”

[bewitched-hours]

Wait hear me out. Anya! Reader ( Spy x Family) Platonic HCs with Guest 1337 or 007n7. Anya would probably sense the depression in 007n7 and would try to make him happy. Or be scared of Guest 1337 ( cos he looks like one of the bad guys and after a bit of avoidance they finally realise that Guest is a Good Guy)

Aww, that sounds sweet! Let's do both!

Reader obviously gets She/Her kek-

Guest 1337

At first you were obviously scared and tried to avoid him until you finally read his mind.

Probably something along the lines of "How can I look less scary for her?" and you tried to trust him more.

He was actually kinda happy you trusted him at all despite how you acted at first.

Trust that he'll grow attached quickly and be all protective because he basically adopted you the moment it turned out you were an orphan.

Sometimes he tells you about his wife and daughter and you listen all fascinated. He finds the faces you make adorable.

Sometimes during rounds he just picks you up when he spots the killer and BOOKS IT. No need to wait around and see if he can stun them. You need to be brought to safety first so he doesn't risk you getting hurt while he's trying to be a sentinel.

Has definitely asked at least once about where your orphanage is and how you'd feel about being adopted by him.

Of course, you're all for it. After the stories he's told and the mental images you have of your future mama and sister? You'd have an amazing life!

And he obviously makes sure to tuck you into bed after dinner and wish you sweet dreams.

He really hopes there's a way to escape...

007n7

Thanks to your mind-reading, you could tell he had a lot to deal with.

He was surprised you willingly talked to him, much less join him during rounds.

Once he asked you why and you had to lie and say he looked cool, it embarrassed him a little but he let you get close.

He's protective of you immediately, seeing a bit of c00lkidd in you whenever you get more playful.

When he first heard you were an orphan, you heard his mind race with questions but the one that caught your attention was "Would she mind it if I asked to adopt her?" which got you a little emotional.

He told you a lot about his son and made sure you knew of his past, being surprised when you don't even flinch or hesitate to reassure him he wasn't a bad guy.

Eventually he just asked you outright if you would accept him as a father to you and c00lkidd as your sibling, surprised when you jumped at the opportunity and hugged him.

Although... He was less happy when the first match with c00lkidd as the killer after that had you alerting him by saying "Big brother's here!"

It was cute, yes, but did you have to be so loud about it?!

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[beef-brisket]

Satan and Adam froze, staring at Roo from over the crowd. They have never regretted being so fucking tall before, but now they definitely did.

The king stared at Roo, still in shoke over the apparent death of his wife. The crowd was dead quiet, it felt wrong.

Roo: ...What? No thank you? Hm, tough crowd.

Lucifer: ...Ev-.

Roo smiled: Ah ah, Lucifer. I haven't gone by that name in years! Roo, Lucifer, R.O.O.

Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose: Yes, yes. Roo. My apologies. Roo, this-.

The king waved his hand towards Lilith's body: Is a bit uncalled for.

Roo: Uncalled for?! Oh, please, Lucifer. I did what was needed! Unless you wanted to hear her drone on and on and on and on and on. Again, you should be THANKING me.

Adam wanted to curse himself when he heard the second woman gasp. He had never met her but had heard rumours of Heaven's second try at the humanity project. Apparently, they defiled his body and tore a rib out of him. So... was Roo technically his daughter? Sister? Estranged niece? It was never really covered what relationship people created from your very bones would be called... bonelings?

Roo: Oh. My. GOD! Adam! There you are my darling husband!

Husband? Yeah. No. That was definitely not what Adam was expecting.

He watched the woman as she snapped her fingers, sending a small number of sinners flying, opening up a path directly to Adam.

Roo: How have you been?! We haven't talked in SO long, darling!

He tensed as Roo wrapped her arms around him, squeezing his ass: Oh, don't you just look... so fuckable~.

Adam sighed: I am the sin of Lust, Roo. But that doesn't mean you can put your fucking hands on me.

Roo laughed letting go of him, but her eyes lit up when she saw his tail. She grabbed it harshly before draping it over her shoulders- why was he even letting her do this?

Roo: Oh, look at this! So smooth! Your skin would look so lovely as a coat, Addie~.

Adam: Yeah? And you would look pretty hot burning in the deepest pit of Hell~.

Roo laughed, petting the sin's tail before walking away: Oh, what's with the hostility?! I've just been my sweet, adorable self! Now, what was all of this mess about, hm? Lucifer? Having trouble controlling your women~?

The Sin of Lust

@beef-brisket

Adam knew deep down. He had his suspicions on what his wife was doing. Now he knew.

For the evidence was staring him right in the face a few yards away. There under the shade of the tree that held the forbidden fruit were Eve, Lucifer, and Lilith committing the act of carnal knowledge.

The past week Eve had been a bit distant. Always making excuses as to where she was and what she was doing. Deep down he had a feeling of who she was seeing.

She acted the same way Lilith had before she left.

Now Adam stared with dull eyes as Lucifer had his face and mouth on Eve’s vagina with the second woman moaning in pleasure. Lilith stood by and watched her lover take Eve as she bit her lips.

Her face held an expression he could not pronounce but knew what it was deep down. For a split second her amethyst gaze met his and she smirked. She had won.

She took his first time.

She took his angel.

and now she took Eve.

She had completely broken the first man.

In her mind that meant she won. But Adam wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of rubbing it in. Turning on his heels he left the women and Angel to their devices.

He was done. He was not going to stick around and be stuck in a marriage with someone who obviously doesn’t love him. He wasn’t going to let the angels make another wife only for her to fall for the charms of that snake.

In fact he wasn’t going to be fulfilling his duties as the future father of humanity. Or as the first man. Someone else can have it.

He wouldn’t live in a place where everywhere he turned he was reminded of betrayal. Even the spots that once held sweet memories soured.

Soon he had made it to his destination. After making sure the angels guarding the gates weren’t looking he crept towards the doors of Eden. Turning back one last time he said only one thing.

Adam: Goodbye.

With all his might he pushed the doors open and stepped out into the world before him. Unaware of the consequences that this act of defiance would have on his soul.

[theinheriteddutchess]

Like Fate

Summary: Steve seemed perfect. Until he didn't. And now you're not sure if you'll ever be safe because he does not accept your breakup.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 2.002

Warnings: stalking, non-con vibes, ex-boyfriend Steve, possessive Steve, mob!Steve, threats, controlling ex.

Notes: I forgot I had this done for a bit, sorry, just been busy on other Stories, but right I thought, why not? Make room, vol that masterlist. So here it is, enjoy.

Masterlist

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

The lights were so bright it was disorientating, blinding you at times, making it difficult to see your surroundings clearly. But you could have sworn you saw him.

When you looked a second later, he wasn’t there.

You tried to calm your racing heart. No need to panic. It was your paranoia. You were out of town, visiting your friend. He didn’t know where you were. That was the whole point. To be away from that smothering tension that his presence left in you. You ex-boyfriend.

Steve Rogers. The picture of perfection. Boy scout good manners, eager to help. That’s how you two met. You, stranded on the side of the road when your car suddenly gave up, and him, stepping up to help you out.

He had asked you out before you parted ways and you had accepted immediately. He had been so kind, and you weren’t too ashamed to admit that his good looks and dazzling smile didn’t make your heart flutter.

He seriously gave you the best sex you ever had. It’s like he knew your body better than you did! There were times you lay limp on the bed, not knowing how to ever get back to normal again.

He was perfect. Well, he had seemed so anyway.

You knew he had been thinking of proposing. His best friend let something slip and winked when you stuttered nonsensical words in your total surprise. It might’ve been fast, you didn’t even know each other a year, but you already knew you’d say yes.

And then you had accidently been at the wrong place at the wrong time. And you had watched as Steve shot a person.

He had looked nothing like the friendly man you’d come to know. But that this wasn’t the first time he had killed, that was sure. And the way he had spoken, about the man messing up a delivery, it didn’t take a fool to know he was in some shady business.

Shaken, you had packed your stuff - thanking whatever entity was out there for looking out for you and you having been undetected so far - and decided to leave everything you  couldn’t carry. No word, no note. Just ran as fast as you could.

He called after an hour. Then rapidly several times when you didn’t pick up. He drove to your apartment, but you refused to open. He got agitated then, but obeyed your wishes to be left alone. For a few days. Then he demanded to talk. When you told him you wanted nothing to do with him, that you knew he was a murderer, he let out a chuckle.

“Oh honey, I’m much more than that.”

It had chilled you, afraid he was going to kill you right then and there, cursing yourself for being so dumb to tell him you knew, but he hadn’t come near, he didn’t force his way into your home. He had told you to think about it for a few days, and that you would come back, he was sure.

He seemed to be under the impression you would take him back. And you spend a few days and nights terrified he was going to show up again and force his way into your apartment to either murder you or abduct you. None of these things happened, but you felt watched. Sometimes you saw his face in the crowd. Or your car was suddenly filled up. Your sister received an expensive gift for your niece under your name. You never shopped in that store, you couldn’t afford it. 

Weird things like that kept happening. A filled fridge. Money into your bank account, your male friends rapidly refusing to hang out with you anymore. It was his doing, you knew it. You had no real proof. And what could you say? My ex is trying to take care of me? I just don’t want him to? He murdered someone? You had no proof and you were sure the body had disappeared long before. 

You couldn't sleep, and you couldn’t focus, and your neck hurt from twisting it so much while walking outside, to see if you spotted him. Sometimes he was nowhere in sight, but you did not let your guard down. You refused to go to your favourite coffee shop, because they told you everything was paid for, indefinitely.

You thought for a moment if it was easier to give in. But you couldn’t condone his lifestyle. You could not deal with seeing anymore murders. And Steve had proven he had a possessive streak. How did you not notice it before? Were you so blinded by infatuation?

So when your friend had offered you to come over for a few days, to get pampered while dealing with a break up - and that’s what you told everyone, not anything more -  you took it.

It was supposed to be a few days away from it all, to be able to let go and figure out what to do from there. Move? He would know before you made one step. The only thing you could think of was to disappear, but that meant leaving your family and friends behind, and you did not think it past Steve to use them against you. You wouldn't expect any decency from him after what you witnessed him to be capable of.

It was your first night here in this place, and yet you thought you spotted him. It couldn’t be possible. You had told no one. You grabbed a bag and just left. If anyone wanted to contact you, they had your number. It was the safest way you could think of.

But as you looked around frantically, he was nowhere in sight. A figment of your frightful illusions. You took a deep breath, told your friend you’d be right back. Off to the bar, ready to drink and forget your problems, even if only for a few hours.

As you waited to be helped you felt someone press against you from the side. Maybe a drunk clubber, maybe an interested guy, maybe both. You weren’t looking for any attention though, so you peeked up to check what situation you might be in and froze.

A sparkling smile shone down upon you. He was wearing a deep blue shirt, hair styled to perfection. As usual, it always looked like he had a personal hairstylist with some kind of secret serum to make it lay on his head that way. His sleeves rolled up to show his impressive muscles - and you weren’t the only one who ogled them -, eyelashes casting a mysterious shadow on his cheeks with how long they were.

God, he looked perfect. And you were a dumb hoe to fall for it!

“Hey baby, having fun?”

“How?” You only managed to stutter, your eyes not leaving his frame even once.

“How did I find you? Baby come on, I always know where you are and what you are doing. I’m a little hurt you’ve tried to flee from me, but I get it, you’re scared. You saw something I never wanted you to see and now you’ve got it in your head I'm not the man you fell for. But you don’t need to be so frightened around me. I don’t hurt the people I care about.”

LIke it was going to make you feel relieved to hear it. “Just everyone else.”

He shrugged, looking unapologetic. “When they get in my way. Or steal from me. I really hate liars.”

He brushed some sweaty hairs from your forehead. Almost lovingly. “But you are different. I knew it when I first saw you. Special. I knew I couldn't let you slip through my fingers. And we were perfect weren’t we?”

“It was all a lie,” You told him, trying to whisper but the loud music made you raise your voice at the same time. “You were never that person.”

“Of course I am, I’m just also a little more.” He signed at the bartender to come over, and of course the man came over immediately even if you tried to catch his attention for minutes before. “She'll have a sea breeze cocktail. And give me a beer, okay?”

Then he turned to you again. “We’re going to have a drink and we’re going to talk things out, and after, once I answered all your questions, you’re going to tell your friend we’ve made up. Just a silly misunderstanding.”

“I will not!” You hissed. “There’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind.”

His eyes narrowed, even if the smile never left his face. “If you’re worried about her getting bored without you, don’t worry. Bucky will be happy to keep her company. Look, it seems they're getting along already.”

You recognized him after a second. Bucky. His best friend. He was smiling down at your friend, and his hands were on her hips and she peaked coyly from under her lashes at him as she let her finger trail over the opened collar of his shirt.

He turned you and pointed into the direction where you had left your friend on the dancefloor. She wasn’t alone. A big dark haired man was dancing close to her. Your friend was looking at him with that expression she used when she tried to lure men in, before they realised they’d be limping from her bed the next morning.

You stepped forward, or were going to, fully intend to put a stop to this, to get her away from him safely, when you got pulled back, and into a firm chest. You felt him lower himself so he could talk into your ear.

“Don’t. He won’t hurt her. He actually might be a little interested in her. Maybe you should let them get to know each other. It will give us time to work things out, and as long as we are talking, he’s got no reason to get to work. So what is it? Does Bucky get to have his well deserved day off, or do I need to put him to work and give some orders?”

You felt bile come up watching them and hearing Steve's words. You didn’t want to do this, you didn’t want to be near Steve, he terrified you. But your friend was in danger, that was sure. Tears sprung in your eyes and you tried to prevent them from rolling down and alerting anyone. It would not end well.

And even if you managed to escape now, what about your friend? And what about after? Steve had already proven he wasn’t going to let you go, and now he knew where she lived. And you knew he could get to any one of your family or friends. The only reason he hadn’t was because he wanted you to play along. Maybe hoped you would come to be okay with who he was. 

You wouldn’t be. But as much as you were frightened by him and by everything that was still a mystery to you, you didn’t think you could put anyone else in trouble.

You sighed, feeling the breath shakily come out.  “I, I think we can talk.”

His smile brightened. “Good, I’m glad baby. You’ll see, we can work this out. You have nothing to worry about. All you have to do is just hear me out. I’m sure we can get back to how things were, right? Although….I'm sure you know about my plans, Bucky was a little eager to spill, wasn’t he? He’s always been a sap. Romantic at heart. And who knows, maybe next year he’s going to be the lucky man at the way those two are eyeing each other right now. Reminds me of us. Like fate.”

He dragged you to the VIP area. Secluded. Alone. Your heart beating quicker with every step you took further away from your friend, further away from backup, further away from the freedom of what your life had been.

Taglist:

@rnurse-kole

@peaches1958

@alicedopey

@chickensarentcheap

@thezombieprostitute

@stargazingfangirl18

[ikeu05]

he’s on my court (unfortunately)

nine ⟢ 3-in-1 shampoo loser — wc: 745

the sky had turned a sleepy shade of lavender by the time yn wandered into the court. it was technically booked, but she knew no one would be there — it was that rare lull between practice slots. the air was still, the silence loud enough to hear her own thoughts and her hands itched for the distraction of a volleyball.

she hadn’t even changed into practice clothes. just sneakers, sweatpants and jake’s hoodie she’d accidentally taken a month ago after one of their endless “who gets the court” battles. she had taken it as reprimand. she hadn’t meant to keep it, not really, she wanted to burn it. but here it was, wrapped around her like a poor substitute for comfort.

she dropped her bag with a dull thud and stood at the edge of the court, staring at the net like it had personally wronged her.

that’s when she heard footsteps.

she turned, mildly alarmed, only to see yunjin—the girl she sort of knew through heeseung, who dated her and vaguely from campus events—walking in with a half-apologetic expression and a bottle of juice in hand.

“didn’t mean to scare you,” yunjin said softly, offering the juice like a peace treaty. “i saw you walk in from across the quad. thought maybe you could use a shoulder?”

yn blinked. “that’s… weirdly nice. are you a serial killer?” her eyes widened as she accused her further “worse… aren’t you jake’s friend?”.

yunjin laughed awkwardly, holding up a hand in defence “technically. he’s just my boyfriend and cousins friend so unfortunately, i have to hangout with him.”

yn cracked a smile of sympathy and took the juice.

they sat in silence for a moment on the bleachers, yn’s fingers turning the cap of the drink over and over.

“you don’t have to talk,” yunjin offered. “you just looked like you needed a witness to whatever mental breakdown you’re about to have.”

yn laughed, the kind of laugh that cracked and fizzled midway.

“i liked someone. for a long time,” she finally said. “and he didn’t like me back. i mean, i knew that. i’m not delusional. but he didn’t even care enough to text me back once my sister came to visit. he was just with her the whole time.”

yunjin tilted her head. “sunghoon?”

yn gave her a side-eye. “damn, the confessions page is working overtime.”

yunjin gave a sheepish shrug. “campus isn’t that big. and he keeps posting these weird thirst traps? always going viral.” she mumbled the last bit, remembering how heeseung and jay commented on how hot he looked after just waking up.

that made yn groan. “yeah. that did NOT help.” she leaned back. “but the worst part? jake.”

yunjin raised an eyebrow. “jake?”

“he’s just always… around. like i know we share the court and wtv, i’m bound to see him here and there but it’s like.. he’s ALWAYS there.” she exhales, mind thinking through all the times jake’s been pestering her, on court and on text as well. “i want to hate him, and i DO. but sometimes it’s almost comforting to see him? you know what i mean?”

yunjin nods in agreement, “it’s like seeing a familiar face in a new seminar or something. i get it.” then she grinned. “so let me get this straight. sunghoon, crush, radio silence. jake, enemy, low-key concern. and you’re spiraling.”

“exactly!” yn threw her arms up. “am i insane?!”

“no,” yunjin said, then paused. “i mean… maybe a little. but who isn’t? you’ve got a lot going on. it makes sense it’s all crashing at once.”

yn stared at her for a second, then whispered, “you’re too wise to be heeseung’s girlfriend.”

yunjin cackled “facts.”

they sat for a while longer, the sky darkening, the court lights flickering on.

“i’m rooting for you,” yunjin finally said. “whether you key sunghoon’s car, spike another volleyball at jake or get in trouble for literally anything. just send me a text once and i’ll coming in running.”

yn smiled, for real this time. “thanks. seriously. for being a random kind stranger.”

“anything for the girl who called me pretty when i was on the verge of a breakdown with my new haircut,” yunjn said with a wink, then smirked. “also, i brought cookies. they were for heeseung, but you look more broken than him right now.”

yn chuckled, grabbing the small box from her, watching her wave bye as she walked away.

── ⟢ ⸝⸝ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⸝⸝ ⟢ ──

masterlist 𝜗𝜚⋆ prev dear diary, 𝜗𝜚⋆ next princess banana hamilton & sir richard bonoseuvelo nuttington

nessie 🗯️ again, i meant #05 here lmao

taglist (check masterlist to see if it’s open or not!) @dyitpink @wonzzziezzzz @ezekiel-bublz @rairaiblog @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @yuyita-rosier @haechansbbg @jakeznii @xoenhalover @dolluvsyun @luhvletters @baekmiyaa @hollxe1 @kirakun @shhh1233728 @weepingsweep @amatariki @tinyteezer @firstclassjaylee @dazeymazey11 @lovenha7 @simjaeyunlvrclub @wenomakiluvr @jaysguitarstring @zoe1love @wonietree

[willofthequill]

Sleep Sweet

Welcome back to another adventures in Mouse's Mini-verse! It's Father's Day and the one year anniversary of the start of my Daddy Duty series! I cannot believe I have been writing these silly stories about Mouse and Sukuna for a year! I have had such a blast working on this series, and I have no intentions or desire to stop! Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, given Kudos, likes, or reblogs! I appreciate you all and hope you have many happy days ahead!!

If you prefer to read this story on AO3 click here !

Author's Note: For anyone new to my Daddy Duty Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 3 year old daughter with reader. Monkey is their infant son.

Summary: Sukuna is home alone with both children for the first time when the battle for nap time begins.

WC: 1300+

CW: reader is referred to as 'Mama' but not described and no pronouns used for reader, use of the word 'boob' in a reference to breast feeding, kiseru smoking (outside away from kids), but it is all around fluff and SFW.

Fic Divider by: @strangergraphics

“Mama definitely does it better, Papa,” Mouse said from where she sat across from her father on a zabuton. Her legs were crossed as were her arms across her chest. Sukuna recognized the scowl across her face as being a mirror of his own. 

“Does what better, Mouse?” Sukuna asked, trying to soothe the fussy baby in his arms. 

You and Uraume had decided to go to town together, leaving him alone for the first time with both of his children. He had scoffed at you when you asked if he could handle it. Of course he could! 

A few hours in and he had already decided that going forward he owed you a night of absolute pampering for every time he was away. As the minutes dragged by he decided he owed you for all the past trips he had gone on too… How did you do this for sometimes weeks at a time without any aid? 

Every time he got Mouse occupied, Monkey cried. Every time he got Monkey satisfied, Mouse was getting into something…

“Puts him to sleep,” she said, giving him a look that questioned his level of intelligence. 

“Well, Mama has certain… abilities that I do not,” Sukuna said as he tried again to get Monkey to take the bottle.

“Yup! He likes the boob. Papa got boobs, but them not food boobs.”

“I do not have boobs. I have pectoral muscles. But otherwise, your assessment is… accurate.” Once again, Sukuna was flabbergasted by the conversations he wound up engaging in.

Mouse puffed out her cheeks and pressed her lips together, narrowing her eyes on her baby brother. She suddenly sat up with a big smile on her face. “Mmmm, Papa! I has an idea!”

Oh, he couldn’t wait to hear this. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

“I take a turn to try to make him go sleepy, now. Please and Thank you, Papa!”

Unless her idea was to smother her brother, she could not do worse than he was. Fuck it. “Alright. What do you need me to do?”

“Let's go to the bedroom, Papa!” Mouse got to her feet and did one of her little jumps, signaling her level of excitement. He hoped he did not regret this.

Sukuna stood with Monkey in his arms and followed Mouse to the master bedroom. She clambered up onto the bed and laid on her side. Mouse patted the bed next to her and gave him instructions. “Monkey needs to go here, please and thank you, Papa!” Mouse instructed.

He moved to kneel on the soft mattress and gently laid the baby down on his back next to his sister. “Alright, now what?”

“Papa do something else, please and thank you” she said, resting one hand on her brother’s stomach. 

“Do something else?” Mouse strikes again with her infamous audacity.

Tuna jumped up on the bed and made his way over to the two demon seeds laying in the middle of the giant bed. He moved to wiggle himself between Sukuna's knee and Monkey’s side so that the baby was sandwiched between a bossy toddler and a kitsune with a death wish. 

Mouse gave him a grin and the hand on Monkey’s stomach gave him a thumbs up. “I gots this, Papa! I the big sister, remember!”

To his surprise, Monkey was already starting to fuss less. He let out a dejected sigh and shrugged. “Fine. But you are not to pick him up and I am only giving you 5 minutes.”

“10 minutes.”

“7 minutes,” he countered.

“6 minutes!” she countered back.

“Done!” Who was he to tell her she had short changed herself? An image popped into his mind of the look that you would shoot him when Mouse told you about this exact conversation over dinner tonight… Mouse was right. You were scary. “7 is bigger than 6, Mouse.”

“Then I wants 7 minutes, please and thank you,” she said before she began shushing softly at Monkey.

“7 minutes. And-”

“I no pick him up, promise, Papa.”

Sukuna leaned over to give both of his children gentle kisses on their foreheads and he was pulling away when Mouse said his name. He glanced down to see his daughter’s eyes suddenly starting to get heavy with tiredness as well. “What do you need, Mouse?”

“I need to kiss you too, Papa,” she gave him a tired but toothy grin. She rubbed her face against the soft pillow case and lifted her hand from her brother’s tummy to reach for him.

Sukuna felt his heart melt at the sight and leaned forward. He let Mouse pull his head down so she could place a gentle kiss on his nose. He smiled softly at her and kissed her forehead again, one of his hands reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Sleep sweet.”

Sukuna moved to open the shoji door to the back yard. He stepped outside to sit on the engawa and loaded his kiseru as he listened to Mouse quietly singing the song you sang to them every night at bed time. 

He took a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs and breathing the hazy mist out his belly mouth. 

He smirked as he remembered the first time he had done that in your presence. He had expected you to be at least mildly disgusted or slightly disturbed. He had expected to see that adorable look you got on your face when you were perturbed by his actions.

But oh no, not his precious one. Your eyes had lit up like fire works in the dark of night and you had immediately handed the kiseru back to him, demanding he do it again. And again. And he did. 

Sukuna would do anything to see you smile and laugh like you did that night. If it meant spending several moments behaving like some damn street performer doing cheap sleight of hand tricks for a few coins, then so be it. 

The same went for his daughter and his son. Anything to protect you guys. Anything to see you smile. 

He was unsure how long he had been lost in his thoughts when his name was called softly from the bed, calling his focus back to the present. He set his kiseru down and headed inside. Noting the quiet of the room he made sure to keep his footsteps light as he approached the bed. 

“Good job, Mouse,” Sukuna praised, seeing that Monkey and Tuna were both sound asleep beside her. 

“I can’t sleep though, Papa,” she said softly. Just like her brother had not long before, Mouse was now fighting her own nap. 

“And why not?” he asked, arching his brow.

“I need Papa cuddles, please and thank you, Papa,” she said, yawning. She moved the hand from Monkey’s belly to point directly behind her at his side of the bed. 

“And why should I?” Sukuna asked, two hands on his hips and two arms folded across his chest.

“Because Papa loves Mouse!” she said, matter of factly. Monkey started to stir and Mouse rubbed his belly, humming softly and whispering. “It okay, Monkey. Oneechan is right here. Oneechan always be right here. Papa be right here soon too.”

She really was your daughter through and through. 

“You are lucky that is true.” With a sigh he laid down next to her, wrapping one large arm across his children and even letting his fingers rest on Tuna’s back, giving the kitsune’s fir a few gentle strokes. “You did good too, Tuna.”

“Shshh, please and thank you, Papa. Don’t wake the Monkey.,” Mouse said in a whisper as she  fit her head under his chin like usual. In a sleepy voice she said, “Sleep sweet, Papa.”

He adjusted his head to kiss the top of her head before resting his chin on it again. “Sleep sweet, Mouse. Now stop talking.”

“Okay, Papa.”

His daughter just had to have the last word. He grinned as he let his own eyes close. That’s my girl.

[shedelulululu]

omg 33!!!

33. things you said from across the room (full list here)

light smut | M | mel is a bit tipsy! | 2.1k also on ao3

Mel liked to party. Unfortunately life had other plans for her. Halfway through undergrad she lost both her parents in a matter of 6 months, unrelated causes. Overnight she became a Real Adult, she had a sister to take care of, bills to pay, tests to study for.

She didn’t resent Becca for the invites rejected, and rejected, until they just stopped coming. She could never feel that way towards her. But, she still felt like she was missing out — on friends, potential boyfriends or situationships, beer pong tournaments, getting high and watching Nathan For You surrounded by giggling friends. She wished she got more sleep, that she ate better, that she had more room to try things — more room to make mistakes. It’s not the life she dreamed of — would anyone dream of losing their parents? — but it’s still good, she’s grateful despite it all, because Becca is her best friend, and how could she not feel full when she makes her happy.

So when Becca gets invited to a sleepover with one of her new friends at the centre, Mel jumps at the chance to say yes.

“Are you free Saturday night?” Santos flicks her head to Mel who approached her left. An open mouthed smile pulling at her lips.

“Why Melodrama? You finally ready to switch teams and admit the big fat crush you have on me?”

An aggressively fond smile forces itself on Mel, powerless to suppress it. “I do have a healthy respect of your girlfriend” — “ you mean fear” — “and I’m quite happy with my ‘team’ thank you.”

Santos gave her a disbelieving look, questioning the mere notion that any straight woman is happy with her options. She shot back one of her unimpressed frowns.

“Ugh you’re no fun…just one kiss?” the frown deepens “yes I’m free, you need help moving or something? I’m great with a u-haul” she shoots finger guns in what Mel has decided in some sort of disarming technique.

“No… Becca has a sleepover —” Santos eyes light up, unable to resist interrupting.

“Did you give her the Talk?”

“It’s not that kind of sleepover—” Mel implores.

“I’m just saying she’s an adult too and she’s not disinterested, you’ve seen her romance novel collection”

Mel blinks a couple times “you really think…? I guess it couldn’t hurt to refresh.” She shakes her head, refocusing the conversation to her initial plan “I’d like to take you up on your offer to go out. I’m inviting Samira and Langdon — no complaints.” A beat “invite whoever you want, just not the new med students, I don’t think they like me.”

Santos salutes her with a puzzled look “Aye Aye King!”

Mel glances at the board, thankful Dana is not at the central hub or else she’d realize was Mel was not actually finding a patient to pick up. She was calculating, given a set of symptoms, the time admitted, the nurse on the case, she could figure out with near certainty which room Langdon was in at any given moment.

Central 11. Kid with a rash.

She stands just outside, pretends to review a chart but the screen was off.

He emerges from the room, med student in tow, going over the differential diagnosis. He notices Mel as they’re discussing the treatment plans. He flashes her a smile. Quickly schooling his face, he gives instructions to the med student, sending them on their way. She should really learn their names.

“Need something, Mel?” he asks, leaning against the wall, “got an interesting case?”

Seeing the light in his eye as he imagines what kind of complicated case would have her seeking his advice as a PGY3, almost makes her feel bad that she she has nothing of the sort to offer.

“I do have a request, but it’s not work related”

His brow furrows “is it something with Becca?”

“Yes!” she replies on instinct “oh but not like that” she cringes a bit “Trinity found out Becca has a sleepover on Saturday—”

“Did you give her the talk?” he waggles his eyebrows, gleeful at the idea of Becca doing something about her myriad of Centre crushes.

“Why does everyo— I have Becca handled, thank you. As I was saying, she forced me into agreeing to go out with her and I’d really appreciate the back up.” She gives him a small smile, looking up at him through her lashes — Samira had told her that he wouldn’t be able to say no to her if she gave him this look.

He runs a hand down his face, an aggrieved sigh escaping his lips “yeah Mel, I got your back.”

She beams up at him, “I’ll text you the details!” She rushes away to catch up on patients before Robby catches on to her lacklustre performance today and starts asking questions.

Mel loves the music. She loves that it is dark. And she loves the way she feels after 2 gin and tonics and 1.5 tequila shots.

Parts of her mind feel quiet for once. The voice telling her that bodies jostling around her burned like a brand, instead feel comforted by the union of a crowd brought together to dance as individuals, all together. Which is perhaps a generous description for what was occurring in a club, on a random Saturday, in Pittsburgh — but she felt good, and a little romantic about life.

She really missed this.

Well, not this part.

Mel invited Langdon for a reason, between a little liquid courage on her part, and an aspirationally enticing outfit — Samira helped her get dressed, she selected a white a-line mini skirt with two small slits over her thighs, and a powder blue one shoulder crop top — surely one of them would finally crack. Mel is tired of them dancing around each other, every day at work, most days off work, for nearly a year now.

Mel did not anticipate her outfit attracting the attention of people other than Langdon. Yet here she is, cornered by a strange man while the rest of her friends were off to god knows where.

She didn’t know his name, honestly she couldn’t tell you if he had introduced himself. She could only hear her mind screaming how wrong he was. He is just a bit taller than her, sandy blond hair, dull grey eyes, and a very clammy hand that just wouldn’t leave her shoulder no matter how many times she pointedly shrugs.

She is searching over his shoulder, really how did he think she was at all interested in talking to him, looking for Samira (outside, texting someone), or Santos (making out with someone to bring home to her girlfriend) — she isn’t confident Whitaker could help, no offense, Which left one person.

He isn’t close, but there is a direct line of sight from where she stands to where he leans up against the bar — chatting with the bartender who happened to have been a frat brother of his.

He is staring at her. A problem, usually, but right now she couldn’t find it in herself to complain, because she really needs him.

She widens her eyes at him, mouthing a brief “help me” before returning to a conversation she did not ask for.

“Sarah!” she hears his voice and is confused by the name, shooting him a look.

He waves his hand, gesturing for her to play along. “Sarah, I haven’t seen you in what 5 years? I can’t believe that’s really you!”

She looks up in awe as he uses his body to push out what’s-his-name, positioning himself in front of her, and it doesn’t even read as aggressive. She envied him for this; she always felt flustered, or shut down in the face of conflict, and he was always so cool about it, unflappable. On top of all that, it was unbelievably hot to her whenever she was witness to him telling off patients.

“Um, yeah just in town visiting family and friends” she keeps glancing to their right, where who-cares-who has not yet gotten the hint to leave.

He sniggers to himself, turning towards the nameless man “hey man, can you leave.” It is phrased like a question but Frank’s voice leaves no room for interpretation, it’s an order.

She laughs to herself, watching him walk away, disappearing into the crowd sheepishly.

“Y’know we could’ve been the ones to leave?” she says, laughter still lacing her voice.

“Maybe, I like this corner” he says with a smirk.

She’s smiling still, but she squints at him, searching for an answer. She feels like he is trying to flirt with her, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Thank you for getting rid of him, by the way.”

“Anytime Mel. I’m surprised he didn’t pick up on you not being interested—” she could feel his eyes skating over her legs, her chest, her lips, “maybe he just didn’t care.”

Mel hates being dishonest, with herself and with others. She has never been good at hiding her feelings anyways and holding this in, pretending whatever this is wasn’t happening, is eating her alive.

“Why aren’t we dating?” she blurts. The additional half tequila shot doing it’s job.

“Jesus, Mel.” A helpful response. He would regret it later, but right now his brain is frozen.

She pouts “I really like you Frank, and I know I’m really not the best at reading people — I’ve been informed of at least 4 people I didn’t realize were flirting with me. But I like to think I’m pretty good with you, and I think you like me too” she takes a breath, shoulders sagging, “and I’m really tired of almost having something. So — is there a reason?”

His gaze darkens, moving into her space, a sharp ledge digs into her back, his leg slotting between hers. His hand skims across her waist, the other cupping the nape of her neck.

“I guess not” he whispered, closing the distance between them. She hikes her right leg around his waist, arms looping around his neck, pushing herself even closer to him.

It is like everything clicks into place having him like this. Lips that were always made to slot against hers, finally finding their way home. His body sliding into place with hers, engulfing her in a way that she never knew could be so addicting.

He moves his attention to her neck, nipping, sucking, kissing. It feels like her body is on fire. His hand travels to grip her bottom, a faux move to readjust her position.

It’s involuntary when she whines as he detaches himself to look her in the eyes.

He squeezes her cheek twice, a confused and cautiously excited look on his face.

She bites her bottom lip, her face heats up, but her eyes never stray from his “I—uhm, I’m not wearing underwear.” She rocks against his thigh, chasing any sort of relief as her pleasure builds.

His jaw is hanging open, if Santos could see him she’d call out the ‘stupid’ expression on his face. He moves his hand just a bit further, just under the short hem of her skirt.

“Oh, you hate me” he groans.

She grabs his wrist, pushing his long fingers towards her entrance.

“I think you’ll find evidence to the — ah! — contrary” she struggles to maintain her composure as he easily pushes two digits into her, soaking and relaxed for him.

She can’t remember now why she was ever so afraid, it seemed like with everything else, nothing was difficult when it was with him. She could never lose her confidence in his hands.

“You — you are something else sweetheart,” he nudges her down onto his denim clad thigh, encouraging her to grind. He grins when he sees the dark line forming on the fabric. “I can’t believe I denied myself this for so long” he kisses her again, briefly, peppering kisses up to her temple, “didn’t think I was right, like I deserved you.”

“Mm—! Don’t, ever” she’s panting lightly between words “make a decision like that for me ever again.” She bites his earlobe, kissing down his jaw to work on his neck.

“Mel, baby, I will do anything you want for the rest of our lives, IF you leave with me right now because I’m not giving you an orgasm with Whitaker 30 feet away.”

She laughs brightly, smiling up at him as she disentangles their limbs.

“My apartment is empty, and I could really use someone to fill it.”

He shakes his head, smiling at the ground as he processes her double meaning.

“Lead the way Melibu Barbie” he lays one hand over her shoulder.

She rests her hand over his, chuckling, “oh that’s a good one!”

[deew-y]

a little help

pairing: o.de x reader

wc: 900

summary: you can't seem to stop your niece from crying, so you ask your boyfriend seungmin for help

genre: fluff

warnings: none

݁ ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪˖ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪˖ 𖥔 ˖ 𓂃𓈒𓏸 ࣪ ˖

she wouldn't stop crying. she just wouldn't. you sighed, desperate, as you cradled the baby in your arms while wondering why on earth you agreed to take care of your little niece. you had the shoulder part of your t-shirt completely wet from the baby's tears and snot. when the tantrum got worse and didn’t seem like it was going to stop anytime sooner, you decided to go in search of the powerful weapons.

you left your niece on the couch with one of her toys and picked up your phone, opened the contact app and called the only person who could solve your problem.

after a couple of rings, he picked up. “what's wrong? you need my help already?” your boyfriend, seungmin, was on the other line.

“stop being cocky and come over. really, it seems like my sister has spoiled the kid or something. she won't stop crying, no matter what i do” you complained with a tired sigh, running a hand over your face.

“don't worry, i'm on my way” said seungmin. you could hear him grab his keys. he already knew you were going to be taking care of your niece. in fact, you had to cancel a date because of it. your boyfriend was exceptional with babies, unlike you, so you had made a little bet on how long you could go without asking for his help. he probably even had his shoes already on, waiting for your imminent call for help.

you left your phone on the coffee table and took the baby in your arms, who seemed to have calmed down a bit. you rocked her softly, trying to subsidize her cries. about ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. “thank goodness”, you thought.

with your niece in your arms, you got up to open the door. when you did, seungmin was standing with her arms crossed, smiling victoriously.

“don't start” you warned him, raising your eyebrows.

“but I didn't say anything” he said with a chuckle, stretching his arms out for you to pass the baby to him, which you did without complaint. you noticed how the little girl grabbed the fabric of the boy's t-shirt with her small hands, hiding her head in the crook of his neck. seungmin smiled, patting her back. “go get something to eat, I'm sure he's hungry.”

you closed the door as the two of them headed for the couch, where your boyfriend sat cuddling the baby. it was a lovely scene, if not for the subtle jealousy you had that your own niece preferred him to you. you went to the kitchen to get the bottle, as the baby was calm enough not to throw it all away with a tantrum.

you plopped down on the couch next to seungmin and gave him the bottle, which he took without taking his eyes off your niece. you watched as she closed her fingers around the container he put in her mouth. little by little, it seemed as if she hadn't cried. despite your envy, you couldn't help but admire your boyfriend's skill with small children, how they seemed to open up and trust him instantly.

you rested your head on seungmin's shoulder, who wrapped his free arm around yours. he left a soft kiss on your forehead and you closed your eyes at the contact. in the end, taking care of someone so young was quite exhausting.

“you're too good with her, i hate you. maybe my sister should stop calling me to babysit her and just call you instead. we'd save three-quarters of her tantrums” i pointed an accusing finger at the baby, frowning.

“and I'd be delighted. i mean, don't you see this little ball of cuteness?” he sighed, dumbfounded by the simple fact of the child.

“little devil ball, you mean” you mumbled, stucking your tongue at her. seungmin chuckled softly, pressing you a little closer against him with his arm. you scooted a little bit closer and positioned your head over his collarbone. he moved his hand to stroke your hair gently. how does he manage with the baby having me in this position?, you wondered. but you couldn't complain, you were finally comfortable after changing position countless times trying to shut your niece up.

after a while, seungmin pocked your arm. “i'm going to put her to sleep, okay?” he indicated softly. you stood upright while he secured the baby girl in his arms, who was falling asleep. he came back minutes later, crunching the bones in her neck, you were still in the same position, eyes closed. you opened one when you heard him come and sit next to you. he brushed a few rebel hairs away from your face with an amused smile, finding the whole thing fascinating for some reason.

“what are you laughing at?” you asked with a confused chuckle.

“nothing, nothing” he replied, putting his arm around you as before. “ah, and just so you know, I haven't forgotten about the bet” he whispered in your ear, teasingly.