#and maybe i’ll seem overreactive but i think it’s fair like i’m just tired. and regret trying to be friends w her. but here we are

[munamania]

should i unfollow/block her. i think probably

[sunonyoreface]

Frank Castle - A Week at the Cabin Pt. 1

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

TW: Slight angst, 

Word Count: 987

AN: Fluff, going to be a series of fluff because I love fluff and there isn’t enough of it

“Whose car did you steal?” Frank’s groggy voice fills the cab. I spare a glance in his direction: his face is littered with cuts and bruises, the swelling under his eyes has subdued slightly, but should really be iced. However, it doesn’t stop there, his torso is more black and blue than skin coloured. Last night, several deep slash marks looked as if they’d never stop bleeding. It took two needles and what felt like an entire spool of thread to close him up.  It was a rough night. One of the worse ones I’ve witnessed, but at least he wasn’t shot.

“Well good morning to you too,” I smile at him as if I’m not angry anymore. As if the fear of him turning up dead on my doorstep is just an overreaction. It’s not, but I guess that’s what I agreed to. “I packed snacks if you’re hungry.”

“I’m not playing games right now,” his voice is gruff but tired and weaker than normal. He needs more rest and the pain relievers we gave him will start to wear off soon.

“Neither am I.”

“Whose car?”

“It’s Curtis’s old van. Said we could use it for the week.”

“For the week?”

“Yeah,” my eyes are back on the road. It’s an old highway that hasn’t been paved in years and probably won’t be for another ten. I swerve around some of the potholes but it’s impossible to miss them all. A thick wall of trees breeze past us on both sides. The mirage of yellows, reds, and greens makes it appear warmer outside than it is.

“When was Curtis over?” he asks. My breathing falters and a small pit of worry forms in my stomach.

“Frank, how much do you remember of last night?” I try to hide the fear in my voice.

He’s quiet for a moment, “not much after the fight.”

I sigh, better than nothing.

“When you showed up at the doorstep, you’d already lost so much blood I didn’t know what to do. So, I called Curtis. He helped me stitch you up, did a better job than I’ll ever do,” I try to lighten the conversation. “He wanted me to get you out of the city for a while, said if he did it, you’d just fight your way back.”

Frank considers what I’ve just said and so do I.

“I’m sorry y/n,” he reaches for me. His large hand completely encloses my own. His fingers are warm and reassuring. “Your hands are cold.”

I can’t help but smile. “That’s 'cause you weren’t holding them.”

“So, this is what it’s like being kidnapped by you?” he chuckles a little.

“Just wait,” I tease, “you haven’t seen anything.”

“That so?”

“Yes sir.” He brings my hand to his mouth and presses a chaste kiss to the top. The tension that was wrung up the back of my neck seems to ease for the first time in a while. This will be good, I reassure myself. He needs this. We need this.

“So, where are you locking me up for a week?”

“Curtis’s cabin,” Frank’s brows raise in disbelief.

“Curtis’s cabin?”

“That’s right,” A warm smile grows on my face. Everything I’ve worried about for the last few hours has disappeared and all that matters is him.

“I’ve tried to get him to bring me up here for years,” although he’s surprised, his voice is soft, “how’d you pull that off?”

“I didn’t,” His thumb rubs reassuring circles around my palm.

“He offered on his own?”

“He was worried about you.”

“Damn,” he mumbles, “I’ll have to call him.”

“I think he’d like that.”

“I’m really sorry,” he’s hesitant to continue, “what I do isn’t fair to you.”

“I knew what you did when I first kissed you all that time ago and I still chose to love you.”

“You’re too good for me,” he murmurs.

“Maybe,” I tease him.

We pass a sign that reads “Bear Lake 15 miles.”

“That it?” he asks.

I hum in response. When we take the turn off the old highway, the road turns to gravel. It’s an even narrower road that’s soft from the recent rain. After several murky puddles, the van is successfully covered in a sloppy brown layer, making us blend in with the surrounding scenery.

The trees grow taller and thicker, their shadows casting across the road. Soon enough we come across the backside of a single row of cabins. A rusted white sign reads “speed limit 15.” Almost fifty yards of trees separate each cabin from their neighbour, providing an abundance of privacy. You can’t see it from the road, but in front of the row of cabins is Bear Lake.

We slowly approach the end of the road, where Curtis said he is the last one, with only one neighbour to the South.

I pull into his driveway without signalling and shift the van into park.

“Home sweet home.”

“For the week,” Frank cuts in.

“For the week,” I confirm.

Curtis’s cabin is a humble one-story dwelling. The log walls are stained a warm colour to match the wood floors. The red, tin roof matches the turning leaves of the surrounding trees. Five steps lead up to a wrap-around veranda with a layer of mesh on the outside to keep the mosquitoes out. A wooden patio swing hangs from the awning.

The smell of pine fills the air and, in the distance, I can hear the water calmly wash against the rocky shore, blending with the soft rustling of leaves. Frank snakes his arms around my waist to pull my back flush against his sturdy chest. He presses his lips to the top of my head, then the side, behind my ear, and finally in the crook of my neck. We haven’t seen the inside yet, but I feel at home. Home is wherever Frank is.

[icantthinkofanythingcool3]

traitor (pt 1)

An:please let me know what you guys think! Let me know if you want more! Thanks guys!

third person pov

Isaac and y/n were inseparable, or so it seemed from the outside looking in. They had known each other for what seemed like forever. It was during their freshman year that they started dating.

“Isaac, I can’t keep letting this happen to you. It’s not fair, you don’t deserve this.” y/n said.

“He’s my dad, y/n. He’s all I got left, I can’t tell anyone. I don’t WANT to tell anyone.”

“You’re miserable, you can’t live like this. You SHOULDN’T live like this.”

“I’m not miserable, y/n/n/ as long as I have you I could never be miserable. I-I...I love you y/n. I love you so much, you’re the only thing that keeps me going every day. I can’t lose you…”

“Isaac, you could never lose me, I’ll always be here for you, always. I love you too, I think I always have.”

The rest was history after that, Isaac and y/n spent even more time together. y/n always made sure that Isaac had a place to stay when things got bad with his dad. They spent countless nights together after that.

When his dad was killed by Jackson and Isaac was turned by Derek, y/n instantly knew something was up. She had always known something was weird about Beacon Hills, but she could never imagine what was really going on. Isaac had to tell her, there was no way around it. And with that newfound information, y/n saw a lot more of the supernatural world.

Derek...werewolf. Boyd….Erika...werewolf. Scott...werewolf. Jackson….kamina. Lydia….was something. Although, they didn’t find that out until later. Allison...werewolf hunter (and that was sure awkward seeing as all the werewolves she was hanging around). And Stiles...well he was just a sarcastic ass human.

It took a lot for y/n to grasp all that was happening. And although Isaac was different at first when he got bitten, they seemed to fall right back into place. That was until the Alpha Pack came to town. Isaac wasn’t the same, and he no longer seemed to need y/n as much. She even offered her house to him when Derek kicked him out, but he chose to stay with Scott.

y/n pov

“Lydia, I know something is wrong. Isaac is not the same. It’s like we’re not even together anymore. I haven’t talked to him in 2 days...complete radio silence.”

“y/n/n, have you tried to talk to him? Called him, texted him?” She asked me.

“Well, no. But he usually texts me first in the mornings...and when he didn’t yesterday I thought I would see how long it would take for him to say something. I haven’t even seen him in school yet.”

“I think you’re overreacting. I’m sure everything is fine. There is a lot going on right now with the Alpha Pack” She told me reassuringly.

We parted ways as I made my way to first period English. Stiles and Scott were in this class with me, so at least I would have their antics to distract me from how I was feeling. I just knew that something was wrong. I’ve never gone this long without talking to Isaac since the day we met.

“Hey y/n/n!” Scott called to me as I walked into class and I sent him a wave.

I took my seat behind him and next to Stiles, “You okay y/n?” Stiles asked me.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just tired. Thanks for asking.” It wasn’t a complete lie, seeing as I got maybe an hour of sleep worrying about Isaac last night.

As class started, I listened to the hush whispers of Stiles and Scott discussing the Alpha Pack, nodding my heading and agreeing where I should. I was still learning a lot about the supernatural world, but I tried to help when I could. After English, I had Algebra with Isaac, I was dreading it. Would he even talk to me? I got there early and sat in my normal seat. Issac came in a second before the bell rang and took his normal seat next to me.

“Feels like you’re avoiding me Isaac.”

“Well, I’m not y/n. I’ve just been busy.” He said to me harshly.

“Obviously. I know what’s going on Isaac, but that hasn’t stopped you from talking to me before…”

“Ms. y/l/n and Mr. Lahey, would you like to continue your conversation in detention or pay attention to the lesson.”

We both mumbled our apologies and focused on the class. It was an agonizing amount of time before the bell rang. We both had lunch after this, so I wasn’t letting him get away so easily. I followed him out of the classroom and was hot on his tail.

“y/n I do not want to talk right now okay, I just want to get through the day and figure out what is going on with these sacrifices.” He whisper-yelled at me.

“I know a lot is happening right now Isaac, but this feels like more than that. This is the first time we’ve talked in two days and that’s fucking not us. If I didn’t know any better I wouldn’t even think we were dating anymore.” I said back just as aggressively.

“Damn it! Well maybe we shouldn’t date anymore!” Isaac yelled at me, at such a level that all the chatter in the hallway around us came to a complete stop.

I couldn’t even focus on that, “Do you mean that?” I whispered.

“I don’t know y/n, honestly, I just don’t know.” He looked down at the ground as the people in the hallway quietly started again, surely discussing what they were witnessing.

“Well if you don’t know how you feel anymore, then that really just says it all, doesn’t it Isaac.” I said, tears already forming.

“I don’t think I love you anymore, y/n.” He said barely above a whisper.

I couldn’t believe he was doing this right now, in the hallway, in front of all these people who were clearly watching, “Well, that just settles it then doesn’t it. Don’t ever talk to me again Lahey, we’re completely done.”

I walked down the hallway before he could say anything else and before my tears could fall for everyone to see. Usually I take the bus or ride home with Lydia, but seeing as it was only lunch time, I would just have to walk home. I knew my mom was gonna freak about me skipping, but I couldn’t care less at this point. Halfway through the walk home, it started raining, go fucking figure. By the time I walked in my front door, I already had two missed calls from Lydia and texts from Stiles and Scott. I was sure they heard about what happened and I couldn’t stand to face them right now. I literally only knew them through Isaac and now we were done.

[hockey-x-imagines]

Made to Last || Tyler Seguin Pt. 17

A/N: The ending of this part seems a bit rushed to me, but I ran out of inspiration. I’m semi happy with it, I think. I hope you guys enjoy this. Feedback is welcome :)

Song Inspo: Made to Last by Issues.

Warning: Cussing and some angst.

Paring: Tyler x Reader

P.O.V: Reader

Word Count: 1747

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Death would've by far been easier, but I had way too much to fight for. There were so many things I want to still experience. I need Tyler to know without a shadow of a doubt that I love him. I want to marry him, and live life with him. The way I looked at things fighting for my life was my only option. After passing out for the second time, my body had been put through the ringer. I had faded in and out of consciousness. Now I lie in a hospital bed about to talk to my parents about something that scares me.

"I'm going to ask Tyler a really important question, and I need you to understand and support me." I don't know how to explain what I'm going to do. "I know we've been put through our paces, but he's the one for me. I want to marry him."

"Oh wow." Your mom was the first to speak. "You know we'll support you no matter what." You were hoping a weight would be lifted from your chest, but there wasn't.

"I love you both, could you send him in and give us some time?" You knew if you waited, you'd chicken out.

"Good luck sweetie." Your dad squeezed your shoulder as he exited your room. You tried to find the right words to say while waiting. There were no words that got your point across. "Marry me." You figured you should be blunt and to the point instead of making a speech and beating around the bush.

"Um what?" Tyler's steps faulter.

"Marry me. I love you and what to spend the rest of my life with you, and I thought you felt the same." The confidence you had waivered.

"Y/N, you almost died. It was scary for all of us, but don't make rash decisions." That was not the answer you were expecting. Doubt crept in. Maybe you read his emotions wrong.

"O-oh, uh." There were no words. You didn't know how to process what was happening. "Could you go? I think I need some sleep. Afterall, I did almost die, clearly I'm not thinking straight." There was no hiding the hurt. Tears welled up in your eyes, you wouldn't let them fall in front of the guy who just rejected you.

"Y/N, that's not what I meant." You didn't want to hear what his explanation was. You wanted to be alone.

"Please leave. Call coach and tell him you'll play tonight. Honestly, I don't care what you have to do, just leave." As hard as you tried to keep your voice steady, you couldn't stop it from breaking.

"Baby please don't make me leave. I want to be by your side. I just don't think you're thinking clearly." You thought that maybe you were overreacting just a bit, but you weren't. Your feelings were valid.

"I don't want you around me right now. I'd like to deal with your rejection alone." Nodding sadly Tyler turned to leave.

"I love you." You couldn't stop the harsh laugh that fell out of your mouth. Maybe that wasn't a fair reaction. People love others but don't want anything more from them, it's normal. Laying in a hospital bed in an empty room, you pored over the events of the last few months. Did he just propose to get you to stay with him? Did he ever really intend to marry you? Your thoughts made you physically dizzy. You closed your eyes, sheer exhaustion dragging you into a peaceful sleep.

"How are you feeling?" You had woken up to a nurse checking on you.

"I feel like I got stabbed." You chuckled. "I'm just a little sore and still pretty tired."

"That's normal. I'll get out of your hair so you can go back to sleep. Your vitals look really good." She smiled exiting your room. Getting comfortable you dozed back off. Your little nap was disrupted again, you could hear your parents talking to someone outside the door.

"I don't blame her." Your mom spoke. "She loves you more than life itself. She knew what she was doing when she asked you."

"Not to be an ass but if we're going to look at it like that, then so did I when I asked her the last time she was in Texas." Did Tyler really just say that? There was a huge difference between the two. You didn't ask Tyler to marry you out of desperation. You asked him because it was something you truly wanted. He only asked you then because you were walking away again. You were grateful you were essentially tied to the bed.

"I think we all know it's not the same. You're trying to make yourself feel better. If you're looking for someone to side with you, you're not going to find it with us." It was your dad's voice this time. You waited for Tyler's rebuttal, but there was silence.

You were now wide-awake staring at the wall trying to make sense of the last day. You were able to come to terms with Steven being a psychopath, but you couldn't come to terms with Tyler's behavior. It really seemed like a switch had been flipped. One minute he was worried then the next he was being an ass. If he was unhappy that you proposed, he could've used his big boy words. You had really thought it would've made him happy to know you were on the same page as him.

You kept comparing your proposal to Tyler's. You couldn't speak for him, but you knew you were going to ask him to weather you were in this godforsaken bed or not. You had planned to ask him during the game tonight.

It had been several hours since you had asked him to leave, and you were sure he had. You were kind of regretting asking him to leave. After the fight this morning, you didn't know where you stood with him.

"I have some good news for you." Your nurse smiled walking in. "After watching through the night and checking your vitals, the doctor is discharging you. You'll need to follow up with your primary care doctor, but you're good to go."

"That's amazing. Are my parents still here? I have no way of getting home if they're gone." You tried to think of someone to call if they were gone, you weren't going to call Tyler. He was probably in the middle of a game, and you didn't want to wait to go home.

"Yea, I think they went out to get food or something. I'll notify them you've been released. Here is a change of clothes, yours were all bloody." Setting down the pants and shirt she left again. Getting redressed, the nurse returned with a Police officer. "I'm sorry, I forgot to mention you needed to give a statement."

By the time you had relived the details of the day before your parents had returned. Neither of them mentioned Tyler, you didn't have your phone so there was no word from him either. You gave yourself a reminder that you were the one who told him to leave. You guys found your way back to each other after 2 years, hopefully this wouldn't be the final nail in the coffin.

"Do you need us to stick around?" Your dad asked as you walked into your house. You looked down expecting to see blood on the floor, but there was none.

"No, I think I should be okay. Did you guys come up and clean?" You turned to look at your parents. Something odd flashed across your dad's face while your mom's face was emotionless.

"Nope, maybe there wasn't a huge mess, or the medics cleaned it up." Your dad looked almost nervous. What the hell?

"Honey we should really get going. Y/N is home and safe." Your mom started to rush your dad out the door. They were being extremely weird, but you didn't have the energy to deal with them. "Lock the door. I love you." With that both of them were gone.  

You walked toward your room in search of your own clothes. The man sitting on your bed stopped you in your tracks.

"Before you say anything, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted the way I did, and I don't blame you if you want to walk away. Y/N, I love you. I came back up here and cleaned up the mess another person made of you. While I did, I had a lot of time to think. I'm sorry I was an ass and tried to discredit you. It was wrong of me to do that, but my answer is yes, and it always will be." Tyler took a breath, slipping from your bed to one knee. "Before I knew your name, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I didn't understand at the time how that was possible. It's only been after getting to know every detail about you and your life, loosing you one, and looking at your lifeless body that it's cemented my thoughts. I don't want to do life without you. I had horrible timing the first time around, and I'm hoping you won't be too pissed this time around. Y/F-M-L/N will you marry me?"

You were stunned. You thought Tyler would've gone to Vegas and played, he was the last person you expected to see tonight. You were unable to find words, so you nodded rushing towards him. Carefully he wrapped his arms around you.

"I'm sorry I acted like a crazy bitch." You mumbled against his lips. "I love you so much and I always want you by my side." You pressed a kiss to his lips. You couldn't describe the feeling, happy seemed too simple.

"I promise you'll get a ring, I kind of left it at home."

"Oh good. You know I'm so worried about it." You rolled your eyes. "Thank you for cleaning up the mess, you didn't have to."

"I didn't want you to clean up the mess. You're not really in a place where you should be on your hands and knees cleaning up your blood." Tyler simply shrugged. Words really didn't describe how much you love this man.

"I love you." You couldn't help but stare at Tyler. You stopped and really looked at him. "I really mean it." You added.

[manggojooz]

Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 10)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: ~2,590

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama; enemies to lovers sort of thing

warnings: some references to stalkerish behaviour

previous part: Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  Part 6  | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it is all true.

Taglist: @a-hopelessly-imaginative-girl @dollwithluv @sweetcheeksdna @yeontanie21 @peachygiraffe14 @jeontaes-world  @forvever-ddaeng @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @apurpledheart @ggukkieeee​ @witchxlove

You frowned at the smiley boy who awkwardly stood outside your door.  

“Uhh, you gonna let me in... or we gonna stand here all night?” Jungkook asked.

“Let... let you in? But why-” you were still only half-awake.  

Jungkook shoved his way past you in one swift move and you stumbled against the door slightly. Catching your balance again you quickly followed him into the apartment.  

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you trailed him into your own kitchen.  

“Ow, it’s so heavy, I can’t stand carrying it another minute sorry,” he lamented as he dumps the bags of groceries on the tabletop with a thump. “What’s this?” he asked as he peeked inside the bag that contained the chicken soup.

“Soup, I think...” you answered weakly.  

“You ordered it?” he asked.  

“No... I don’t know, some guy just came to deliver it...”

“Mmm okay,” he hummed mindlessly but melodically as he took the package away from the dining table and chucked it to the side of the counter. “Let’s see...” he murmured to himself as he took his handphone from his back pocket.  

“What are you doing here?” you asked again.  

He does not make eye contact with you but stares intently at his phone screen, “I heard you injured your shoulder from last night... I didn’t know and I thought...” he stops suddenly. He side-eyes you for a moment and notices that you were surveying him with that same frown. “Hmm,” he clears his throat rather forcefully, “I just wanted to say I'm sorry, I was overreacting because-”

“Because you thought Yeonjoo was hurt...” you completed his sentence.  

“I didn’t know you hurt yourself while protecting her, to be fair it wasn’t really visible you know...” he voice faded as he sounded a little relieved now that the topic has been broached.  

“It’s our job to get injured so that the people we protect won’t be. You don’t have to be sorry for that,” you replied matter-of-factly.  

“I know I know... but I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion and accuse you or shout at you” he still avoided looking at you as he muttered this.  

Sometimes apologies are like this – it does not necessarily make you feel better more so than it makes the other person feel better.  

“So... why are you here at this time?” you questioned a third time.

“Ah... Yuri is at another schedule with some of the hyungs and since I am free tonight so I thought I should come and make sure you ate dinner... at least...” he was still half-mumbling.

“You are here to make me dinner?” you asked incredulously.  

“Eo...” he answered affirmatively.  

---

Jungkook buying sacks of groceries just to make you dinner was the most unimaginable thing even just a day ago, but it was happening right this moment. You were too tired to quarrel with the idea and he had insisted that you get back to resting until everything was ready.  

You could hear a lot of tinkering, “ahh”, “ooh” and the occasional swearing from the kitchen even in your half-awake state. You had no idea how long this lasted but at some point you were awakened by a knock on your room door.  

“Dinner’s ready... are you awake?” his voice was soft but his tone was the usual.  

You pulled yourself out of bed and headed out to the dining table, marginally more alert than you were before.  

The spread that lay before your eyes was a wonder – a bowl of plain rice, some kind of stew that looked like it had a mix of unrecognisable ingredients in it and some kimchi.  

“Do I start with the soup or...” you wondered cautiously.  

“It doesn’t look that appetising but I promise you that it tastes fine and this is beef bone stew with abalone and what’s that thing...” he wasted no time trying to promote his masterpiece.  

You raised an eyebrow at him.  

“It’s some traditional herb... I’m sure it’s good for health” he continued.

He looked at you expectantly as you took a tiny sip of the stew with caution. It tasted... barely edible.  

“How is it? How is it?” he asked like a child who was asking for affirmation from his parents.  

“It’s nice...” you answered soullessly, “are you not having any yourself?”  

“Nope, it’s all for you” he answered very certainly and you weren’t really sure if this was all part of the bigger picture.

Be that as it may, you recalled how Yoongi felt bad for you at the hospital and did not want another one of them thinking that girls are too weak to do this job.  

“About last night... I just need to say it again, you don’t have to feel bad that I was injured and I can understand why you were worked up so you didn’t have to do this, but thanks anyway” you said while looking him straight in the eyes, maybe the drowsiness helps with boosting confidence.  

He sighed unintentionally. “Like I said earlier, I know I don’t have to feel bad about it but I was wrong to yell at you and I just feel bad because I assume that Yeonjoo was hurt while you were fine and... and... I guess she just looked really shaken and you looked fine so I thought...”  

“It’s ok, I get it. It’s just that we usually try our best not to show it even if we are hurt” you explained.

“If you don’t show it how do people know that you are hurt... what's the point of hiding it?” Jungkook mumbles endlessly as he walked back into the kitchen. He picked up the ladle still in the pot of stew, and you were about to continue the conversation but he took a sip of his own masterpiece.

“Bleh... oh my gosh... what’s this? This taste horrible! You should have told me honestly that it tasted bad... wow...” he shouted with his tongue half-hanging out.

“As you know, it’s not my forte to show how I feel” you replied sarcastically.

“Ugh I just wanted to make you something nice... what the heck is this even... you know what, this isn’t counted. I'll buy you something nice, what do you want to eat?” he lamented.

You were never a fan of bland soups and porridges anyway.

“Hmm... steak, buy me a nice a steak” you requested.

“You can eat that now? Or do you mean when you are better?” his eyes were round with curiousness.  

“It’s my rule that when the body is not feeling well, the mouth needs to eat even better than usual” you explained quite nonchalantly while taking another bite of the weirdly-seasoned stew. It seems like you were starting to get used to the taste of it.

“Ohhh, alright then. There is this place I know that’s really hard to get a spot at, I will use some connections and get you some really awesome steak. How about tomorrow, since it’s a rare that we don’t have any schedules... I mean if you are feeling better tomorrow...”  

You nodded somewhat eagerly as you continued taking another mouthful of the mysterious stew.

“Wow, you still gonna drink that?” his eyes were very round and large, clearly depicting his amazement by your ability to stomach his stew. “I’ll send you the time and address tomorrow.”  

---

The next day and an hour before seven.  

“Where are you going?” Yuri was shocked to see you all dressed up.

“I... uh... I’m going for dinner” you stammered. You were going to meet Jungkook at the restaurant at 7pm and the restaurant unfortunately has a casual formal dress code requirement.

“You are going for dinner? With who? Did you take your medicine?” Yuri nagged like a mother sometimes.

You thought for a long moment whether to reveal the truth but you decided to avoid it in prevention of any questioning that might ensure, “Wow, you are so naggy sometimes you know. I’m just meeting someone I know and yes ma’am I took my medicine, except that one painkiller that makes me really drowsy, I'll take that at night when I'm back alright?”  

Yuri throws a towel at you for calling her naggy and told you to hurry and get out of her sight.  

---

Thirty minutes to seven.  

Jungkook suddenly gets a call from Kijin; something must be up with Yeonjoo for him to be calling Jungkook out of the blue.  

“Hyung, what’s up? It's rare that you are calling me directly” Jungkook answered the call.  

“Jungkook-ah... I really didn’t want to bother you but could you come over... she wouldn’t come out or talk to anyone since last night.”  

---

Ten minutes to seven  

Jungkook stares at his watch, just as he took out his phone to type a message to you Kijin opens the door at Yeonjoo’s apartment and he rushes in.  

The door to Yeonjoo’s bedroom was shut tight. On the way here he was on the phone with Kijin the whole time and he explained hwo Yeonjoo had been receiving letters and calls from her longtime stalker.  

“Is that... from that bastard?” Jungkook looked warily at a paper box placed in one corner of the living room.

“Ya... I’m handing it over to the police later... it’s pretty gross inside I don’t think you should go near it” Kijin warned.  

“Why is he back? I thought he went quiet for a while...” Jungkook asked with a deep unhappiness.  

“Not sure, I think he’s been sending Yeonjoo some messages but she won’t speak to me now” Kijin answered with matching concern.  

Jungkook headed straight for Yeonjoo’s room. He carefully knocks on the door; there was no answer.  

“It’s me... are you inside? Can you open the door?”  

He was met with an eerie silence.

“Hyung... should we just go in?” Jungkook whispered to Kijin, his face fraught with worry.

“I think we have little choice now...” Kijing handed over a key to Jungkook.

The door creaked open slowly. Jungkook peered into the room that was pitch black. A narrow ray of light shone into the room from the opened door and he finally sees the silhouette of Yeonjoo crouched on the floor near the foot of the bedframe.  

He ran over anxiously, “Are you alright? Why didn’t you answer us?”  

Her hands scrunched the blanket that she had pulled over her legs. She was staring soullessly ahead but slowly turned to look at Jungkook.  

“He’s back. I'm scared” she uttered.  

“I know, Kijin hyung is reporting it to the police now” Jungkook whispers back.

“I’m tired, but I don’t dare to close my eyes” she whimpers.

“I’m here... I'll be here” Jungkook sat down next to her and she couldn’t help but lean against him.  

---

Five minutes past seven.

You stood at the sidewalk leading to the elegantly-furnished entrance of the restaurant. Unintentionally you looked around whenever you heard any sound of someone walking by. You had messaged Jungkook to ask if he was reaching but there was no reply.  

You did not even know whose name the reservation was under so you felt better waiting for him to outside. Time went by as you counted the number of times a car turned in but it wasn’t his car.  

The night grew colder as the time went by.  Eventually, you took a look at your watch.  

Ten minutes to 8pm – you decided to give Jungkook a call. The call went unanswered and you were not that surprised but now you became slightly worried.  

You made another call, this time to Sejoon.  

“Eo.. Y/N...” Sejoon picked up the call and sounded out of breath.

“Hi Sejoon, are you ok?” you asked out of concern.

“Yah yah I’m fine, just ran out to grab some thing for Yoongi and Hobi who are having a schedule now... do you need something?” Sejoon asked you back.  

“Uh... actually I am wondering if you know where Jungkook is now...” you started slowly, not sure how much to reveal about your plans with Jungkook.

“Jungkook? He’s not with you? I thought he told me he would be having dinner with you today,” answered Sejoon.

So, it is not much of a secret then. “Ah yes, he’s supposed to meet me for dinner but it’s almost past an hour and he’s not here, I tried calling him but couldn’t get him either,” you explained.

“What? Ok, he does tend to be late... but not this late... are you still waiting there?” Sejoon exuded his usual friendliness.  

“Yah, I’m kinda still waiting,” you replied.

“What? I'll try reaching him after I put down these things for Yoongi and Hobi? Let me know if he suddenly shows up,” Sejoon instructed helpfully before you hung up.  

---

Fifteen minutes past eight

Two police officers sat in Yeonjoo’s living room collecting as much information as they could from Yeonjoo and Kijin while Jungkook watched them from kitchen. It took him a whole ten minutes to coax Yeonjoo into speaking with the police after they arrived.  

Now that he had mostly done his part, he was letting go of the tension he had built up over the past hour and suddenly his stomach let out a low growl.  

He thought to himself that he could have been having some fancy steak now. “Right... would be nice to have some steak now... oh shit!” he suddenly jolted up and looked all over for his phone.  

---

Your phone suddenly pinged – a message came in.

“Hey Y/N, I’m so sorry, there was an emergency, I didn’t check my phone until now... you aren’t still waiting right? I hope you already ordered something... don’t wait for me,” the message read.

The cocktail of feelings left a bittersweet aftertaste. You were still trying to decipher what exactly it was. Was it worry? Was it annoyance? Was it disappointment?  

Then your phone rings. It was Sejoon.

“Hello? Y/N? Have you left yet?” Sejoon shouted through the noisy background noises on his end.

“Hey Sejoon, umm, yeah I got a text from Jungkook so I’m leaving now...” you muttered, trying to mask that bittersweet aftertaste  

“Oh he texted you? Great, did you already grab dinner? Do you need me to come down and settle the bill for you?” Sejoon enquired on 80% volume.  

“Uh no no don’t worry about me, I’m gonna go grab dinner when I get home...” you quickly cut in, “... but do you know what happened to him? He just said there’s an emergency... is he ok?”  

“Jungkook? Oh he’s at Yeonjoo’s place apparently. Kijin hyung messaged me just a while ago to give me the heads up,” Sejoon explained as you hear someone calling out his name on the other end, “I gotta go! You can text me if you need anything!”  

You hardly ever needed anything from anyone. You hardly believed that you deserved to need anything from anyone. And today was no different.  

Did he need to do this for you? No.  

Did you need him to keep his promise? No.  

Yet you stared down at the pavement clearly tasting bitterness this time. Of all the reasons, why did it have to be Yeonjoo?  

One of the staff at the restaurant must have observed you standing outside their door for the longest time.  

“Hi Miss, uhh... it’s rather cold out here... are you waiting for someone? Do you want to come in?” he offered kindly.  

there was a melancholic pause. “I was waiting for someone...” you replied with a wistful smile, “but not anymore, thank you.”  

[beth--b]

Home Remedy

Prompt 9 of @sicktember

“Geralt, it’s just a cold, I’ll be fine in a few days,” Jaskier said, tired of the argument they had been having on and off all morning.

“I know you will, but if you can be fine sooner wouldn’t that be good?”

Jaskier threw his hands in the air and turned to face Geralt who was trailing slightly behind him.

“Fine! We will go see Triss and see if she can help!” he turned back to the road ahead of him, only to pause while he left out a series of sneezes.

“Come on then, it’s not too far from here,” Geralt said, setting off again, Jakier following behind.

They were travelling through Temeria and were near a house belonging to Triss. They didn’t have to go out of their way and they had no set route as present as Geralt was between contract’s. Jaskier had been sneezing and spluttering away for two days, and Geralt felt there was no harm in stopping by to see Triss for something to help.

When they arrived however it wasn’t Triss that opened the door.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41583264

Seeing Yennefer Jaskier just shook his head.

“Nope! Geralt you said we were seeing Triss, not Yennefer! She’s never going to help so let’s just move on already,” he was halted in his ranting by a painful sounding sneeze.

Geralt just rolled his eyes at the dramatic bard and turned to Yennefer.

“Yen, Jaskier’s sick. We were hoping to see Triss and see if she had anything that could help his symptoms.

“Geralt. Bard. I’m afraid Triss isn’t here right now,” she said, leaning on the door frame.

“Any chance you can help?” Geralt asked, grabbing Jaskier by the wrist as he went to turn and leave.

Yennefer eyed them both for a long moment, before moving aside with a sigh.

“Come on then. But only because if Triss comes home and finds out I refused to help she’ll get pissy at me.”

Geralt accepted the invitation and walked through the door, practically dragging Jaskier behind him.

“Thank you Yen.”

Jaskier finally seemed to be resigned to the fact that he wasn’t getting away anytime soon followed Geralt, his silence only broken by the occasional sniffle or cough.

Yennefer led them through to a small but comfortable sitting room and sat down in an arm chair, waving at the seat across the room for the two of them to sit.

“Now bard, tell me what the problem is.”

Jaskier frowned at his hands for a long moment before sighing.

“Honestly this is ridiculous. Geralt is just overreacting, I’m fine,” he paused to clear his throat, coughing into his elbow before looking back up at Yennefer.

“Hmm yes you are clearly the picture of health. Now, what are your symptoms.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes but started listing symptoms all the same. “Runny nose, sneezing, coughing, maybe a slight fever…chills, headache. Ah I think that’s it.”

“Alright then. Geralt I agree with the bard, you are ridiculous.” Before Geralt could protest Yennefer raised her hand to silence him. “I do have something that can help though. Just wait here and I’ll be back soon.”

Jaskier, despite protesting being there in the first place decided he may as well enjoy the break and leaned back in the chair, pulling Geralt with him. Once he had the witcher situated so he could comfortably lean against his chest he closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax for just a moment. Despite his attention it wasn’t long before Jaskier succumbed to sleep, Geralt just wrapped his arm around the bard a little tighter and let him rest.

Eventually Yennefer returned, a steaming bowl in hand.

“He asleep?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think he needs the rest.”

She nodded and placed the bowl on a side table. “I’m sure he does. I may not be as adept a healer like Triss but even I know the human body needs rest when unwell. Now can you please tell me why you thought he needed Triss for a cold?”

Geralt looked a little sheepish for a moment before shrugging the shoulder that Jaskier wasn’t currently using as a pillow.

“I might have panicked a little bit. But to be fair we were in the area and it seemed as good an idea as any."

Jaskier started to wake up, a cough rousing him from his nap. Once he had stopped coughing Yennefer stood and picked up the still steaming bowl and handed it to Geralt.

“Give this to him once he’s properly awake. Then you can take him upstairs, you two can take the guest room on the left.”

With that said Yennefer swept from the room, her black gown trailing behind her.

Jaskier pushed himself up from Geralt’s side and let the witcher pass him the bowl.

“What foul concoction is this Geralt? Yennefer’s probably going to poison me, not cure me.”

Geralt looked at the bowl in his hands and inhaled deeply before raising an eyebrow at the contents of the bowl.

“What? What is it? Is it poison?”

“Calm yourself Jaskier. It’s soup.”

Jaskier levelled Geralt with a flat look, disbelief clear on his face.

“Soup?”

“Chicken soup to be precise. Eat up bard and then you can get some sleep.”

Geralt passed the bowl over and Jaskier breathed in deeply, eyeing the bowl like it was going to suddenly try to eat him instead of the other way around. After the first tentative mouthful Jaskier hummed in pleasure. “Well if the witch is trying to kill me at least my last meal will be a good one.”

Geralt smirked and shook his head. Once Jaskier had finished the soup they stood and headed out of the room. Geralt began to lead Jaskier towards the stairs but the bard stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Where is she?” Jaskier asked quietly.

Changing path to follow the hall a little further along Geralt stopped in the open doorway of what appeared to be a lab of some sort. Yennefer looked up from the potion she was making and raised one dark brow at them.

“Can I help you?”

Jaskier nodded slowly. “Ah yes actually. I just wanted to say thank you.” He pulled a face like he was sucking a lemon. “For the soup I mean. Thank you, truly. I think it really did help.”

Yennefer looked like she had a biting retort on the tip of her tongue but held it back at the last moment, relaxing and nodding instead. “Of course, we may not have a cure for the common cold but chicken soup heals the soul, or so they say. Go get some rest bard, you’ll be fine in no time.”

With that she went back to her potion, and the two men left at her clear dismissal.

Geralt herded Jaskier back up the stairs and to bed, Jaskier shucked his boots and gratefully climbed into the bed, burrowing under the covers. He shifted so Geralt could lay beside him and nestled into the witcher’s side when he joined him in the bed.

“Get some rest Jaskier.”

“Will you still be here when I wake up?”

“Of course,” Geralt tightened his hold on Jaskier for a moment before relaxing again, stroking a hand along the bard’s arm until his breathing evened out into a deep sleep.

[m3kuroshirt]

House of Assassins Part Four

links to Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Word count: 1944

warnings: none

The kitchen was warm and inviting, especially so cold and late (early?). Ichigo seated himself at the table, and Grimmjow busied himself with the kettle. As he waited, Ichigo could feel tiredness seeping into his bones, but he knew that if he went home all he would do was stare up at the darkened ceiling, a restlessness running rampant in his mind.

Finally, Grimmjow sat himself down with two mugs of tea. He slid one to Ichigo, and took a sip from the other. “So,” he started. Ichigo bit the inside of his lip as he wrapped both hands around the warm mug. “What’s on your mind? The stuff you can talk about, anyway.” His voice was gruff and tired, but there was no impatience in it. Ichigo took a sip of his tea. It burned the tongue a little, and washed a path of heat all the way down to his gut.

“…I…does it sound stupid if I say ‘I don’t know’?” he mumbled, running his thumb over the smooth ceramic of the mug. Grimmjow shrugged. He ran a hand through his bright blue hair.

“I don’t think so.”

Ichigo gave him a small smile. “Thanks.” He sighed and leaned on the table with his elbows. “I guess…I’m just conflicted. The guy I was talking to…he’s an old family friend. Or rather, an ex-family-friend. But I’m going to be helping him out for a bit. Just…have some mixed emotions about it, I guess,” Ichigo admitted. He took another sip of tea.

“Fair enough. You seem pretty close to your family, it would be weird to work with someone they don’t like,” Grimmjow replied. Ichigo shrugged.

“I guess. We all have varying degrees of…dislike…for him. Rukia doesn’t really mind him, but then her brother works closely with him. And Orihime couldn’t hold a grudge against anyone, even if they tried to kill her.” Ichigo stretched his arms over his head. Grimmjow frowned.

“Hold on…wouldn’t Rukia’s brother also be your brother?” he asked, head tilted to the side and an adorable confused frown on his face.

“Hmm? No. He adopted her. So like, he married her older sister, right? But Rukia and her sister were separated in the foster system early on and never reunited. So Rukia grew up with us instead. But apparently her sister was trying to find her. She married Byakuya and died before she could find Rukia, but Byakuya kept looking. And when he found her, he offered her to be a part of his family. She only agreed as long as he let her stay with us, though.” Ichigo yawned as he finished talking. He rubbed his temples and drank the rest of his tea. “We’re pretty mis-matched for a family.”

“Gotcha.” Grimmjow finished his tea as well, then picked up the mugs to refill them. “So, what did that guy do then? Is that something you can talk about?”

Ichigo stretched his neck from side to side, and definitely snuck a glance at Grimmjow’s backside. He only answered when the other man set both their mugs back on the table. “I…guess, a little. Basically, he tried to get me to work for him. Without really disclosing all the details of the job or how dangerous it was. Kisuke was pissed when he found out.” He rolled his shoulders. “Really, I was fifteen and stupid and eager to make a buck. I took a job, because I figured Kisuke was overreacting, I figured I was fine. Shunsui didn’t do much for teaching me, he figured I should be able to do most of it because I was learning with Kisuke, and I was too naïve to actually realize that I didn’t know everything. I ended up in a coma in the hospital for four months.”

“Fuck. That’s awful,” Grimmjow murmured as Ichigo paused to drink some more. Ichigo nodded.

“Yeah…I wasn’t there when Kisuke confronted him, of course, but I heard he almost killed him.” He ran a hand through his orange hair and scratched his scalp a little. “And that pretty much ended all our contact with Shunsui up until recently.”

Grimmjow leveled him with a look. “And you think it’s a good idea now to do work for him? What changed?”

Ichigo sighed. “It’s not so much that it’s a ‘good idea’, as it is necessary. I’m older now, I’ve got the skillset and the proper teaching. And I’m the only one he can ask to help. It’s not so much for him as it is for Aunty Retsu, anyway.” Ichigo made sure to use her casual name rather than ‘Unohana’. Grimmjow seemed like a nice guy, but he could never be certain what would come up in conversations others had, and he really, really didn’t need his target getting any wind of the job.

“She his wife?”

Ichigo was in the middle of drinking his tea when Grimmjow dropped that question. He coughed and spluttered a laugh. “Oh fuck no!” he gasped, setting his mug on the table. “I mean, she’d keep him in fucking line if she was, but no…no, ew, that would…ugh. No. She’s another friend of Kisuke’s.”

“Hm.” Grimmjow sipped his tea again. Ichigo propped his face up with his palm, leaning more onto the table. He kept his eyes glued to the amber liquid in his cup, since Grimmjow’s piercing gaze felt as though the other man could see every secret if he kept looking in his eyes. “This job is dangerous then?”

“Yeah.” Ichigo didn’t dare lie about that part. Besides, it’s not like his was the only job in the world with risks.

“…be safe, then…” The words were quiet, barely there. But Ichigo heard them. He looked up and met the other’s serious stare.

Ichigo smirked. “Aw, worried about me?”

“Of course I am, idiot. You’re the first friend I’ve made here. Actually, first one I’ve made in years,” Grimmjow muttered into his cup as he turned his face away. He took a long sip, cheeks burning pink.

Friend. The word tugged at Ichigo’s heart, unleashing a barrel of mixed emotions. On the one hand, a warm feeling, recognition that Grimmjow thought of him as more than just ‘a neighbour’, the comfort of having someone he could go to and hang out with outside the little family he’d found himself. On the other, a brief but sharp sting, the worry that this might be all there ever is, that maybe ‘friend’ is all that Grimmjow would ever be willing to associate with him. Ichigo shoved those worries down. I should be grateful he thinks of me as a friend. Especially when I’m keeping so many secrets from him, and he knows I am. He closed his eyes and let the warm scent of the tea seep into his body, surrounding him and bringing him comfort. “Friends, huh?” he murmured. “Friends are good.” It was more to convince himself than anything, but Grimmjow overheard.

“Yeah. I mean, I guess? Like I said, haven’t had many,” he replied in a nonchalant voice. Ichigo gave a non-committal hum.

“They are. Especially nice when it’s someone outside your family, someone you can talk to,” he replied, opening his eyes. His eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, though, and he had to blink a few times before his eyes would focus on the man in front of him.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Grimmjow raised an eyebrow at him in amusement. “You’re looking pretty played out…are you sure you’re good to go home?”

“Hmm? It’s right next door,” Ichigo mumbled, moving to stand. He managed to get upright, but then swayed and stumbled back onto the chair. “Oh damn. More tired’n’I thought.” Grimmjow’s expression morphed from amusement to concern.

“Shit. Don’t try and walk home, ok? You can crash here on the couch if you want, alright?” He stood up and helped Ichigo stand again. “I’ll help you there. Come on.” Ichigo steadied himself on Grimmjow as they walked into the living room. The couch looked incredibly inviting and soft.

Laying on the couch was like sinking into a deep dark warmth. He thought he heard a distant yelp and someone saying ‘wait let go’, but that had to be someone else’s problem. He was tired, too tired to do much of anything let alone help. The inky darkness surrounded him, caressed him, and enveloped him in a gentle warmth and firm embrace. Ichigo gladly let it carry him off to sleep.

***

Grimmjow helped Ichigo to the couch. It wasn’t overly big, and didn’t really look all that comfortable, compared to a bed, but it would do. He eased his friend onto the cushions, then made to move away. But the arms that had been using him as a stabilizer tightened around him and dragged him down. Grimmjow yelped.

“Wait! Let go!” he hissed, but Ichigo didn’t seem to hear him. Grimmjow hesitated to be any louder, lest he wake Nel. Not that she would be angry. But he would never live down the teasing if she saw him like this with their neighbour, especially since she knew all about his crush. His only hope was to extract himself carefully…

…he hadn’t counted on Ichigo being quite so strong. Like, he knew the other man could lift his fair share, had seen him carry things most people would need a partner to handle, but overpowering Grimmjow and trapping him in a hug? In his sleep, of all things? Grimmjow grumbled under his breath as all his attempts to wriggle away were thwarted by a completely oblivious, sleeping, handsome idiot. With all his efforts proving futile, Grimmjow gave in and opted to simply lie there, held firmly on top of Ichigo. He couldn’t see the other man’s face, as his own face was turned to the back of the couch, head resting on Ichigo’s chest, listening to his rhythmic breathing and the gentle thumping of his heart. Their legs were entangled, and Grimmjow tried not to dwell too much on that fact, his face burning. He clenched and unclenched his hands before softly, hesitantly, moving them upward, behind Ichigo, wrapping around his torso slightly.

Why did I call him a ‘friend’? This isn’t how friends react, Grimmjow thought to himself. He was wide awake, and with no reprieve in sight, his mind decided to wander down what had become now an all-too-familiar path over the past couple of months. Dammit. Why can’t I just make the words come out right?

Ichigo’s arms tightened around him briefly, then relaxed slightly, but not enough to let Grimmjow actually worm his way out. Are you even sure he likes you, though? The thought crept into his mind unbidden, for what had to be the millionth time that week. Are you sure Jinta wasn’t lying? Are you sure anyone at all would like you?

Grimmjow grit his teeth and unconsciously tightened his grip on the other man. He only realized how tense he was when he heard a sleepy “…’s tight,” mumbled above him. He relaxed instantly, fear catching in his heart, convinced Ichigo would wake up that instant, throw him off of him, call him a freak, and storm out of the house. He waited for his inevitable fate…one…two…three…

…and nothing happened. There was a soft sigh, and Ichigo’s breathing resumed its steady rate. He hadn’t been fully awake, then. Grimmjow couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. He sighed and resigned himself to being stuck there for now. He might as well try and get some rest if he was going to have to face the rude awakening of the morning. So he closed his eyes and drifted off.

[yourfangirlfriend]

It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter Seven

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Five and a Half

Chapter Six

A/N: Hey. Been a while. Here’s an update and a loose promise I’ll be better? Also thanks for all the notes, comments, and messages recently! I forget who wanted to be on the tag list, but comment and I’ll know for next time!

“It’s not serious.”

 You pinch the bridge of your nose.

 “Mother.” 

 “It’s not. You’re really overreacting.”

 You curl your fingers into the bed of your palm and feel the bite of your nails digging into the flesh. “It’s cancer.”

 “Psssh.”

 You want to throw the phone across the room. Instead, you screw your eyes shut and lean back against the wall.

 “Do you have an appointment soon?”

 “You know I don’t like hospitals.” She says just as you see the deadbolt to your apartment flick unlocked. Javi pushes in seconds later, looking just as tired as you feel. You give him a little wave.

 “Well weigh that dislike of hospitals against your dislike of death,” you say, turning away and putting your hand on your hip. You don’t want to burden him with this, but you see his eyebrows perk up anyway. Shit. You lower your voice. “Can’t Dad sit with you? Or Luna?”

 “You worry too much.” She chides.

 “You don’t worry enough!” You scold into the phone. You feel a hand around your waist and turn just in time to get a kiss on your forehead. It calms you down.

 Sighing, you regain your composure. “Mom? Please promise me you’re going to go back.”

 “Well of course I’ll go back, Bean, but really, I don’t want you worrying about me.” Somewhere in the background, you hear a crash behind her.

 “Mom?”

 “It’s just your father. He’s putting up shelves for the crystals and I think he fell. Can I call you back?”

 You sigh. The only thing your mother is worse at than soothing your anxiety is calling you back.

 “Yeah, sure.” You say. “But actually call?”

 “I always do.”

 “Hmm.”

 “Bye Bean, I love you.”

 “I love you too,” you say before you hear the line go dead. You put the phone back on the hook and drop your head, trying it to calm yourself down. From the couch, you hear Javi perk up.

 “Sounds like you had a worse day than me.”

 You look up and give him a weak smile. “We’re having a lot of those, recently.”

  How long are honeymoon periods supposed to last? You would have at least guessed six months. That only seems fair, given the seven months of angst and hookups that preceded finally, finally being able to admit to one another that maybe this meant a little more than you led on. You would have taken three months, even- three months of everything just being calm and quiet and nice, where the most stressful thing to happen is burning dinner because you’re too busy fucking on the counter.

 You moved to the wrong fucking city.

 It wasn’t even a week after your drunken exchange of I-love-yous that it began. All those bodies piling up once more, only this time the cops and their allies were giving just as good as they had got. Bodies from both sides seemed to pile up in higher stacks all around you two. Three days hadn’t passed without you having to calm down one of your students -or worse, one of your fellow teachers- over recent events. It was getting to you, too, if you were honest. Javi had warned you against going out like you once did, and as much as you hated it, you knew he was right. You thought of the friends of friends who had disappeared or died, caught in the crossfire or in the consequences of their poor decisions. The more you heard, the more you wanted to lock yourself in your apartment, hidden away from the chaos of the outside. You managed to see your friends at work but meet-ups outside had dwindled severely. Alessa found out she was pregnant and didn’t want to risk it. Lisa’s brother-in-law got caught in between two sides of a gunfight and couldn’t work any longer, so she was helping them more around the house. Maritza was the only one who still tried to go out, but it was a rare occasion you could even gather everyone up for a dinner at home.

 Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if you could have spent all this new, anxious free time with Javi, but if anything, he had picked up your slack when it came to existing in the outside world. Since Los Pepes had entered the picture, the man worked around the clock. Sometimes you would go the whole evening without seeing him, only to be awoken to the feeling of his body falling on the bed next to yours. While he still insisted on driving you to work every morning, he had begun staying at the office later and later, sometimes not returning until 2 am. The fire and anger that once fuelled him seemed to have died out, and the poor man is running on fumes. You could see it when you both woke in the morning in the dark circles under his eyes and the uptick in cigarettes he had been smoking. You try and take care of him - bringing him coffee in bed, rubbing his shoulders when he sits up, lost in his own thoughts. He appreciates it, he tells you as much, but no matter how hard you try he’s still as weary as ever when he finally comes back to you.

 You don’t want to add to that. You know that what he’s seeing at work must be leagues beyond your little pep-talks and lonely evenings, and you don’t think it’s worth mentioning even if it has started to take its toll on you. You miss your friends. You miss days at work where the kids are sunny and mischievous, instead of withdrawn and scared. Hell, you miss your boyfriend- it feels weird calling a man his age that- you’re supposed to be in loved-up bliss, but instead it seems the universe decided to throw you another curveball. You overcame the intimacy issues only to come face to face with this bullshit not days later.

 And now your mom is sick.

 Javi gets up from the couch and comes to stand beside you, his tired hand dropping down to take your fingers. You smile at the effort, which seems small, but you know takes so much for him these days. You reach up to wipe a stupid tear out of your eyes.

 “Swear she thinks she could cure this with sage and essential oil,” you try to joke. He doesn’t say anything, only runs his thumb along your cheek bone and tilt your chin up to look at him. You try and give him a smile before another year drops down your face. Frustrated, you press your hands into your eyes and let out a groan.

 “Fuck.” You say. You drop your hands and look back at him. “I’m sorry.”

 “What are you sorry for, huh?” He asks.

 You shake your head.

 “I don’t…I don’t know.” I’m sorry I can’t be soft and happy for you when you come home? I’m sorry that he has to spend all day on the front lines and come back to this mess? “Things have been rough lately. I don’t want to add anything to your pile.”

 “It’s not my pile that’s getting added to,” he pulls you against him, pressing a kiss against your head once more. You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “You okay, hermosa?”

 You nod, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes. “They caught it early. She’s just stubborn. She’ll go, though. Her dad was an oncologist. She pretends like she doesn’t know, but…” you shake your head. “Fucking parents, huh?”

 “Yeah,” he says, reaching out to push a loose curl behind your ear. “Fuckin’ parents.”

 You relax into him, letting your head dip down into the dip when his neck connects to his chest. He brings his arms around you to keep you there. The two of you stand like that for a moment, two idiots swaying to the silence of the world’s chaos.

 “You’re not bad,” you sigh against him, snuggling in deeper. “For an alcoholic cop.”

 He chuckles. “Agent.” He combs his fingers through your hair. “You’re not bad for a teacher who lets strange men finger her in a supply closet.”

 You hold a finger up. “One time.”

 He catches your hand and brings your fingers up to his lips, kissing the tips. It’s enough to make you melt.

 “I am sorry,” he says, placing your hand against his chest and holding it there. “About your mom.”

 You sigh. “What can you do?”

 “Do you need to go back?”

 “I’d never hear the end of it if I did,” you pull away from him and make for the coffee table, where you had set out two drinks for Javi’s arrival before your mother had called. You pick them up and extend one to him, and he takes it gratefully, dropping onto the couch next to you. “She’s convinced I worry too much. Me, her brilliant daughter who chose to live in the middle of a war zone,” you purse your lips. “Sorry,” you say.

 He shakes his head. “You’re right,” he leans forward to set his drink down on the coffee table before resting his elbows on his knees, bending forward in a pose of contemplation. Sensing the shift in the air, you sit up and run your fingers along his back.

 “Javi- I didn’t mean…”

 He shakes his head again. “This thing…it’s a fucking mess. All of it.” He sighs. “Sick of seeing fucking bodies.”

 You reach for something to say to comfort him, but you know there’s nothing. Instead, you scoot closer to him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

 “Have you thought about it? Going back to Texas for a while?” He asks.

 You shake your head. “She doesn’t want me to. And neither do I,” you reach up and lace your fingers through his, unclasping a worried hand. He turns to you, his eyes flicking up and down your face.

 “You shouldn’t stay here because of me. You’d be safer.”

 You blow a raspberry. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Sensing he took the joke to heart, you nudge him with your chin. “I’m here because I want to be here. With the kids. With you.”

 He turns back to face forward, and you’re unsure if he’s satisfied with your answer before he speaks again.

 “If anything happens to you…” he shakes his head. It forms a pit in your stomach.

 You reach out and press his hand against the center of your chest. When he looks at you puzzled, you smile. “See? Still beating. Think that’s a good sign.”

 He sighs, but not without a small smile on his face. Taking advantage of the moment, you reach out and take him by the chin, pulling him in for a long kiss. When you break away, his hands come up to pull your face back to his, and you can’t help but smile as he presses his lips against your mouth and begins to trail down your neck.

 “Yeah,” he says, kissing the pulse point that makes you shiver. “I think it’s a good sign.”

      You’re not great at taking care of yourself when you’re stressed out. Who is, really? You hope he hasn’t noticed, though, the way the bags under your eyes have darkened to match his or how much more quickly you seem to go through liquor bottles. You want to think he doesn’t notice- that he’s too focused on other things, but it’s getting harder to pretend. You try and rally your energy every time you see him. You want to be this bright spot for him in the middle of all this chaos and violence. You cook, you clean, and you go down on him like you want to live the rest of your life on your knees. You smile. You joke. You try to be pure sunshine in the bullshit he’s caught in.

 But now your mom’s sick. And, fuck, you’re empty.

 He must notice it. He has to see it when he comes home to you, and your house is a mess. He has to hear it when you spend the next few weeks by the phone, arguing with your family- Luna is too busy with the baby to go home, your father doesn’t want to believe it’s real, and your mother-fuck! - she keeps telling you not to worry. Not to worry! Like the few times she calls, she doesn’t tell you offhandedly how much worse she’s getting. Like you’re not trying to keep yourself from telling her how you hear gunshots every night, or how you can’t go a week without seeing a dead body. Like you’re not protecting everyone from your feelings because surely, they have it worse. You know everyone has it worse. How do you compete with cancer and being a foot soldier in the war on drugs? You’re just some teacher. You’re just some lady in over her head. Like everyone else in this country.

     Maybe it was just a bad day when he came home that Wednesday. For both of you. One of your students’ siblings had died the day before, and you had spent the majority of the day trying not to cry alongside an eight-year-old. You had been trying to reach your mother for days, but the calls kept getting picked up by the answering machine and you couldn’t come up with any other way to say, “please call me back and tell me you’re okay”. When you finally came home, it was to a messy house - why are you so disappointed? it’s been a disaster for weeks- and you barely have enough energy to kick a few things out of a sort of path. You check your messages, willing there to be one overlooked recording of your mother’s voice assuring you she’s doing fine before her scheduled surgery, but the tape is woefully empty, just as it was yesterday and the day before. You pick the stupid machine up from the table and throw it to the ground.

 You chain-smoked three cigarettes by your window, zoning out into the ether as night descended upon you so gradually until it was suddenly dark. You thought of your student, the one who came home to a massacred older sibling, and your stomach cramps. Before you can stop yourself, you imagine your mother in the same position they described to you that morning- spread out like a starfish on the floor, eyes wide open and dull as they stare up to the ceiling, a halo of blood around their head. Your throat itches and you light a fourth cigarette.

 When you went to the refrigerator, finally, but discovered upon opening the door that you had once again forgotten to go grocery shopping. The only things that stared back at you were three-day-old pasta leftovers, some eggs, and a few beers.

 “Fucking idiot,” you said to yourself.

 You pulled out the carton of eggs and had begun to whisk them together when you heard the door creak open. You turned around to call out a greeting but bit your tongue when you saw his face. A deep scowl marked his otherwise handsome features, and he had already lit a cigarette before coming in.

 “Hey,” he said as if he was annoyed with you. You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the eggs in front of you. He made for the couch, stripping off his jacket as he walked.

 “Fuck!”

 You turned around to see him wavering, trying to regain his balance. He reaches out and grabs the edge of the counter, but it’s stacked so high with papers that his hand slips and he’s falling back onto the floor- but not before hitting the back of his head. You run around, dropping to your knees beside him as he pulls a bloodied hand from the back of his head.

 “Hang on- “you run to the sink and grab a wet towel. Jogging back to him, you reach out to nurse the area when he snatches the rag out of your hand.

 “I can do it myself,” he says. “Why is your fucking answering machine on the floor?”

 You feel stupid and lost for words, like a child who just got scolded. You hold your hands in front of you.

 “I want to help- “

 “If you want to help, why don’t you clean the fucking apartment?” He snaps.

 Your eyes widen. He’s been grumpy for weeks, surly even, but there’s an extra bit of venom in his voice tonight. Before today, maybe you would have called him on it, snatched the rag out of his hand, and told him to go fuck himself, to go to his place and bleed over his own towels.

 But…fuck you’re tired. You have been hanging by a thread all day and the only thing that was keeping your eyes dry was the thought of curling up with him tonight. Maybe if one of the many, horrible things hadn’t happened today you would already be kicking his ass out, instead of standing there dumb and speechless, taking this abuse you don’t deserve.

 So, you let him have the rag. You turn back and walk to the kitchen and keep making the eggs.

 He has it worse. He has it worse.

  You two eat dinner in silence. You can tell he’s not pleased with the meager meal, but he just grunts and shovels it into his mouth. You barely eat, picking at little bites like a bird. Instead, you think about how chemotherapy makes people lose their appetite, and wonder if your mother can eat right now. You imagine her too-long blonde hair must have begun to fall out, and for a moment you think you can feel the sickly strands tightening around your fingers. It’s all-encompassing, and you don’t hear when Javi tries to get your attention.

 “Eloise!”

 You jerk your head up, your blank face meeting his. He frowns.

 “I said do you want a drink,”

 “Oh,” you say, softly. You shake your head. “No.”

 He rolls his eyes and pushes up from the table, going to the liquor cabinet. When he pulls the doors open, his head drops, disappointed.

 “You’re out.”

 “Oh?” You turn around. He turns and sends you a look.

 “Yeah.” He says

 “I forgot to go to the…” you wave your hand.

 “Seems like you forgot to do a lot of things,” he sighs. You frown, a bit taken aback by his annoyance. But yet again, you bite your tongue. He sighs and walks towards the table, snatching up his keys.

 “Where are you-?”

 “To get some from my apartment.” He says. He swings the door open with too much power, and when it falls closed with a crack it makes your shudder.

 Across the room, the phone rings.

 You scramble to your feet, nearly tripping over that same answering machine that had claimed Javi. You yank the phone off the hook, shoving the phone to your ear.

 “Mom?” Your voice is like a little girl’s.

 “What?” The male voice says. Your shoulders deflate.

 “Sorry,” you say, pressing your hand to your forehead. You look up as the door to your apartment swings open again, and Javi walks in with a storm cloud over his head, whiskey clutched in his fist. “He just walked in, hang on.” You hold the phone out to Javi. “Steve.”

 He lets out a sigh and walks forward, taking the phone from your hand. In a daze, you walk towards the kitchen and begin to clean up the few dishes you dirtied, your mind zoning in and out of reality. You don’t notice you’re just standing with the water running until a hand comes from the corner of your eye and switches the tap off.

 “Stop watering the pipes,” Javi says. He walks back to the table and lights a cigarette, sitting down and kicking his feet up. You turn back to look at him.

 “Everything alright?” You ask.

 He scoffs. “No, it’s not fucking alright.” He takes a drag and blows a plume of smoke out. He looks up to you, his eyes darting to the glass he left by your hand. He makes to sit up.

 “I’ll get it,” you say, and you pick it up, walking over towards him. You’re just about to hand it to him when your ankle gives, and you drop the glass, spilling his drink over his pants.

 “Goddammit!” He yelps. He looks up at you - and you know it’s not you, you know he’s had a bad day, you know there’s so much on his plate- but the snarl he has feels like a punch to the stomach.

 “I’m sorry, let me- “you reach for the napkins you thought were on the table before realizing you forgot to buy those, too. Your hand flails around you as you’re caught in your anxiety.

 “You’ve done enough,” he grumbles, pushing up and walking past you to pull a rag from the counter.

 You’re not sure why hearing him blotting his pants behind you does it, but you feel it immediately. That hot, wet trail down your face. And once that first tear is loose, you know you can’t stop. Suddenly, you’re silently weeping, snot and water running down your face as your shoulders shake and you reach up to try and hold yourself.

You let out a long breath, but it comes out as shaky, and the sounds from behind you stop.

 “…El?”

 You begin to paw at your face but realize it’s a lost cause. Shaking your head, you ignore him and walk back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you before dropping against the wall.

 You were doing so well. You hadn’t cried, you hadn’t screamed at him during his shittier moods, you had been an angel. You pushed through all of this bullshit, hoping that, even though you couldn’t compete with his life, he would notice. He would realize how much of toll your own, lesser bullshit had begun to take on you, and had some sympathy. More than that, you had hoped he would appreciate it- how you never pushed him to take care of you, how you were always there for him with a meal and warm arms, how you were soldiering on for him through all the stress. You wanted him to think you some sort of martyr, a girlfriend who was pushing all her needs down to take care of him when he needed it most. If he was emotionally unable to reciprocate, he could at least fucking notice.

 But he didn’t. He was too up his own ass, too busy at work, too concerned with being the only person in this relationship with problems that he didn’t even fucking see how much your teeth nearly cracked every time you faked a smile for him. You were mad at yourself, too- you had folded into this smaller version of yourself after making excuses for him, and now you had the gall to be sad about it? You had paved this path. You tried to protect him from your pain, thinking it was kind, when really you were coddling him.

 You feel anger rise in your chest. You clench your fists in your hands, and you’re about to scream into your knees when you hear the soft knock on the door. Furled by anger, you stand up quickly and swing the door open to see a much softer looking Javi in the doorway.

 And that takes the wind out of your sails. Instead of laying into him like you wanted, you let out a pathetic sob. Immediately he’s pulling you towards him and you’re caught in a tight hold as you sob into one of his nicer shirts.

 “El,” he says softly, and you choke out another sob on his shoulder. Carefully, the two of you descend to the floor of your bedroom as he keeps his hold on you, tracing his fingers up and down your back as you continue to cry against him.

 His tone is soothing as he circles through what little he can say - “baby” and “I’m sorry” and “it’s okay”. As your cries come to a slow, you pull away from him and try to wipe your face.

 “Baby,” he says again, reaching out to touch your cheek. You dare to make eye contact, and, fuck, it breaks your heart. He looks like a little boy who just realized he had crossed a line. You let out a pathetic little hiccup as you wipe your eyes again.

 “I’ve tried- “you stutter on your words as your tears keep falling. “I- I know it’s hard for you, really fucking hard, I know my d-day to day can’t compare to the shi-shit you see,” you try to take in a deep breath. His hand runs down your arm. “But I’m not doing okay. And I’ve tried to put that aside to t-take care of you, but - fuck, I need- “you feel yourself begin to hyperventilate. Fuck, you haven’t cried this hard since you were a kid.

 “What do you need, baby?”

 “Fuck, Javi, my mom is dying!” You yell. “She’s dying and I can’t get a hold of her. And every day I have to go to the school and hear more awful fucking stories about other kids’ families dying. I have to let them think I have any kind of answer when I fucking don’t! I’m just as lost as they are! I’m in my godamn thirties and all I want is to hug my fucking mommy, too!” You huff a few more breaths. “But I can’t, so I pretend. And I come home to you, and I- fuck, I love you so much, and I don’t want to burden you or make you take care of me when you have it so, so much worse but today- “you swallow, your mouth dry from crying - “today she was supposed to go in for surgery. And I haven’t heard anything. I spent all of lunch not eating because an eight-year-old, a fucking eight-year-old! Was telling me that she found her brother with a gunshot wound between his eyes. And I can’t do anything to help her! Just like I can’t do anything to help my fucking mother who won’t even call her daughter back to leave a message to say ‘hey! I SURVIVED SURGERY’. And maybe if I hadn’t had all of that I could put up with your shitty moods like I have been for weeks because I know it’s hard and I know you have it worse but today I just-I fucking couldn’t! I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t take YOU yelling at me when all I wanted was for you to fucking- I don’t know! Pull me in your lap and pet my hair! Ask me how my day was! Ignore my dirty apartment the way I’ve ignored your passive-aggressive moody bullshit for a month because you understand I’m not doing the fucking best right now! And I need the person who loves me to fucking act like it!” You fall forward, sobbing again. The arm on your shoulder drops, and you expect for a moment he’s going to get up and leave you to cry into the night. Instead, though, he scoots back until his back leans against the footboard of the bed. You look up in time to see him open his arms.

 “Come here,” he says.

 Too eager, you scramble over to him as he pulls you against him, petting your arms and face as you keep weeping against him.

 “I’m sorry,” he says. “I do see it. I do. I promise.”

 You hiccup and he pulls you tighter.

 “I know you have it worse- “you start.

 “Stop,” he says, pressing your head against his chest.

 You keep crying over the next half hour as he whispers sweet things to you. When you’ve exhausted yourself, you drop your head to his lap, fading in and out of consciousness as his fingers comb through your hair, soft and comforting. You don’t quite remember him urging you up and into bed, but by the time you’ve regained your senses somewhat he’s pulled your back against him, tucking his nose into the nape of your neck.

 “I’m sorry,” you say softly. He shakes his head.

 “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He says. “Go to sleep, hermosa.”

 You do.

     The next morning is quiet. The two of your dress quickly and rush out the door, having slept past your alarm. He tells you briefly he’s got a lot on at work today, and you take it as a sign you’ll be walking back this afternoon. You nod and give him a quick peck before running up the stairs to the school, at least somewhat happy to have avoided talking about last night.

 So, you don’t expect it when you leave the school one afternoon and see him waiting for you outside, his arms crossed on his chest, aviators on, posed in front of his car like he’s in a film. You fight the urge to smirk when you drop down to the final step and his mouth jerks up at the corner.

 “You look like a cliche,” you deadpan, walking up to give him a quick kiss. Only, it’s not quick- you try to pull away tastefully, but he takes you by your waist and pulls you into a deeper kiss. You give him a swat on his shoulder but return it regardless, luxuriating in the attention. It feels nice.

 “Get in the car,” he says when he finally pulls away. You tilt your head.

  “You takin' me somewhere?”

 “Not if you don’t get in the damn car,” he swats your ass, causing you to shriek, before beginning to walk around the front. Despite yourself, you smile as you clamber in.

 You don’t ask questions throughout the whole drive, but you admit you’re a bit disappointed when you just pull back up to your apartment building. You try and mask it, hopping out of the car and waiting expectantly for him to come around and join you. He climbs the stairs quickly, beating you to the door to hold it open.

 Without thinking, you reach for your keys. It’s almost muscle memory now. You haven’t been to his place for any real time in months. You think it reminds him too much of work.

 Except, now he’s nodding you over to his door he’s begun to unlock. You come to stand by him, eying him as he fiddles with the lock. As the bolt clicks, he smiles, then turns to you.

 “Close your eyes,” he says.

 “Really?”

 “Fuck you. Yea really.”

 With a small grin on your face, you make a show of daintily closing your eyes. You see a flash of light- him waving his hands in front of your face. Convinced you really have your eyes closed, you hear the door open, then feel a warm hand taking your own. You walk inside, blindly stepping after him until he drops his hand, and you feel his hands come to rest on your shoulders.

 “Alright,” he says.

 You open your eyes, and it takes you a while to realize what he’s even made a fuss about. In front of you are two plates with a single sandwich and a side of potato chips. You’re kind of annoyed for a second- when you surprise him, it’s always with a cake or really good head, never just dinner. Dinner that’s basically a sandwich.

 You turn to look at him before noticing that the apartment has been cleaned up. You swivel around, taking in the sight, noticing the repaired answering machine has been put carefully back on the side table. You haven’t seen your home this clean in a while, and you realize that he must have done this, too. You start to say something, but he’s already pulling out your chair for you, urging you to sit down. Lost for words, you drop yourself into the seat and watch as he comes around to sit in front of you. He waits for you to say something, but when you don’t, he begins.

 “It’s not much,” he says finally. “But you were right. I’ve been a dick, and I’m not the only one with shit on my plate.” He rubs the back of his neck. “When my mom was sick…I should be better to you. For you.” He bites his lip. When you still don’t say anything, he continues. “I’m sorry, El. You’re so…good, and I’m…” he shakes his head. You reach out your hand, covering his. There’s a flash of a smile across his face. “I called sick to work. They were having me doing bullshit paperwork, anyway. Murphy can handle that.” He clears his throat. “It’s uh, not much, but a rich guy owed me a favor, and he had a smoker. I had some old rubs from Señora Garza, the one with the hands? My dad sent me them from back home a while, and I know it’s not going home, but I know you miss the food- “you reach forward and pull the top of the sandwich off.

 Brisket.

 You look up at him, and you start to cry.

 His face drops, alarmed. “Oh- no, baby- “

 “Javi,” you wipe a tear away. “This is- this is - “you bend forward and let out another small cry. Immediately, he’s on his feet, coming around to kneel beside you. Just as he’s about to say something, you lean forward and catch his face in your hands, pulling him in for a kiss. It’s long and warm, and when he finally breaks away, you’re rewarded with a bright smile.

 “You like it?”

 “I love- I love it.” You say, running a hand through his hair. “This is very sweet.”

 He looks down, pleased with himself. You lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead. He reaches up and takes your hands.

 “I…I really love you, El,” he says, not quite daring to look you in the eyes until he’s finished his sentence. “I just hope you know that.”

 You nod before pressing another kiss to his lips. “I do,” you say. “Even when…I do know, Javi.”

 He nods, and the two of you sit there, blissed out together for a moment before he lets out a breath.

 “Well, you better eat. Fucking thing took six hours to smoke, better not let it get too cold.”

 You let out a laugh as he stands and comes to sit across from you. With a smile, the two of you eat. It’s not the perfect approximation of the food back home, but it’s enough to fill you with the comfort you had been craving for weeks. Javi watches, proud of himself as you lick the remaining sauce off a finger, smiling at the flavor.

 “You did good, Peña.” You say, flicking your eyes back to him. He smiles, tossing the napkin down between the two of you before making to stand. He walks over and extends a hand down to you, and you raise your eyebrows.

 “Is there more to eat?” You ask, somewhat hopeful. It’s impossible, but if he found a way to get a malt shake down here too you think you’d have to spend the next three weeks with his dick in your mouth.

 “Something like that,” he says, urging you up. You send him a playful look as he reaches behind you and pulls the zipper to your skirt. With strong hands, he pulls your underwear and skirt down to your ankles, dropping to his knees to let you step out of them. With a twinkle in his eye, he smiles up at you.

 “Go sit on the couch,” he orders. “And keep your knees apart.”

   Turns out his surprises come with pretty good head, too.

A/N: Idk if this is of any interest but in my head Eloise is played by Phoebe Waller-Bridge. But of course, you cast her however you like!! She’s yours, too

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (6)

   jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst + maybe jealous!kook 👀

words: 3.2k

     chapter six

You stayed in the whole day on Sunday – which was nothing new since you had three classes to prepare for on Monday, not to mention a possible encounter with Jungkook to brace yourself for – so, going out the next morning, even if it was 8:30 AM, felt surprisingly refreshing. After not talking to anyone besides your roommate the whole day yesterday, it felt unexpectedly nice to make some small-talk with other people.

You got coffee at the local coffee shop before heading to your first class and were surprised to feel your stomach fill with disappointment when the class started and Jungkook didn’t show up. Although, truth be told, you weren’t sure if he was even taking this class at all. Knowing his weekend habits, taking a 9 AM class on a Monday morning seemed like a sure-fire plan for failing. And, honestly, you shouldn’t have cared about his whereabouts anyway. But you did as you found yourself looking for him in every class you went to that day, nearly forgetting your plans to meet up with Namjoon in the afternoon.

You ended up not seeing Jungkook today, after all – good! – and you returned to your dorm, feeling somehow let down – bad! – and annoyed. Grateful for the plans you’d made with Namjoon, you mentally cursed yourself for getting attached to people so easily, and headed to the kitchen for a quick snack before you prepared the work space.

You had already cleared your desk, found the movie you’d promised to show Namjoon, and even started to read one of the books for the project, when your phone buzzed. 

Thinking it was your partner for Sociology letting you know he was on his way over, you were in no hurry to pull back from the chapter you’d just started. But as soon as you teared your eyes away from the book and checked the screen of your phone, a bolt of electricity struck you.

It was Jungkook calling you.

You figured that the two of you must have had a similar thought process because you’d wanted to call him as well, but – contrary to him, by the looks of it – you ended up choosing to stay away. All of your restraint would have backfired if you’d seen him in class today – you were sure of it – but you chose not to dwell on that right now. You focused on your success instead; you’d avoided him for almost two days now – what’s another two years, right?

However, as you stared at his name on the screen of your phone, you really wanted to answer the call. You wanted to hear his voice.

And yet, you could already imagine the conversation you were going to have.

Apologizing wasn’t something that was difficult for you. You could have easily told him that you’d overreacted when you’d last seen him. But an apology would have brought closure, and closure would bring another attempt at a friendship that would eventually end – just like it did before.

The end seemed inevitable. You’d be heartbroken for another seven years – okay, maybe not heartbroken, but it would definitely sting for many more years to come, just as it had before – while he’d be fine, playing shows with his best friends and getting drunk every weekend.

So, choosing to suffer and not give in to your impulses – because it was supposed to save you a lot of pain in the long run – you did not pick up his call. Just a few days of talking to him had already messed you up enough, who knew how strong of a hold he’d establish on you if you allowed him into your life again? You had to learn from your past mistakes and stop putting him first.

The call ended almost as soon as you decided not to answer and you felt yourself release a shaky breath that you’d been holding as your phone vibrated restlessly.

You’d persevered this time. Maybe you’d manage to keep this up all the way to graduation – “Do you still plan everything out in advance?” Jungkook’s voice asked in your head, – but, just in case you couldn’t, you turned the vibration on your phone off and placed it—screen-down—on your desk.

Several minutes later, Namjoon finally arrived with a tentative knock on the door of your room – he wasn’t sure if he got the number right – and the two of you immediately got to work, setting a plan for your project and looking through the books you’d picked up at the library a few days ago.

“We have far too many articles we can use as references,” Namjoon said, thirty minutes into your work session. He had glasses on but he’s been looking down at the desk for so long, they had slipped to the very tip of his nose. “Maybe we should focus on the newest ones?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, getting fidgety after sitting still for so long. “Not going to lie, though, this topic is starting to seem less and less interesting with every new monograph I open.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said with a sigh as he brought his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Do you want to take a break? We got through four books already, that’s progress.”

You leaned back in your chair, relieved to hear this suggestion and Namjoon laughed, understanding your answer without hearing you say it.

“We could, uh, watch the movie now if you’d like,” you said then. “Hopefully it’ll inspire us to keep working.”

He doubted a horror movie could inspire you to keep reading the unnecessarily complicated books about the connection between humans, but he’d been looking forward to watching it and, therefore, could not say no. Not to mention, you looked too tired to keep working and he felt bad.

“Alright, sure,” he said, “it’ll be a good distraction. It’s been a long day today anyway.”

“It really has,” you agreed and turned your laptop to face yourself, “I’ll set it up and—”

“Oh!” he gasped suddenly, sitting up straight and startling you. “I was going to bring popcorn! I forgot. I came here right from my last class.”

The thought was really sweet – because you didn’t ask him to bring anything – and it got you to smile.

“That’s okay,” you said and then remembered, “actually, there’s a convenience store across the street, I could go get it.”

“I’ll do it,” Namjoon said, his determination bringing him out of his chair and into your hallway before you could react. “I’m the guest here, after all! And I shamelessly came without anything.”

He was now calling out to you from the other room as he put his shoes on, so you stood up and walked to the threshold of the bedroom.

“Well, to be fair, as the host, I should have been the one to provide the popcorn,” you pointed out but Namjoon was already halfway out the door.

He chuckled at this, fixing his glasses again as he grabbed his backpack, double-checking if the wallet was there.

“It looks like we’re both still learning the proper etiquette,” he said with a good-natured smile. “I’ll get the popcorn. You set up the movie.”

He assigned jobs for you and himself again – it was something he seemed to do a lot as you’d noticed in class – but you found that you didn’t mind his bossy nature. It was nice to be around someone who knew what had to be done and didn’t waste any time with the pleasantries, telling the people around him what they had to do point-blank.

“Yes, sir,” you said and Namjoon considered apologizing for ordering you around but when he lifted his eyes to meet yours, he saw a humorous smile on your lips.

With a small--relieved--chuckle, he nodded one last time and promised to be right back before exiting your dorm and walking down the hall for the elevator.

Left alone, you automatically reached for your phone and only remembered why you’d placed it screen-down when you saw the three missed calls from Jungkook. Apparently, he’d called you twice more after you didn’t pick up.

Inhaling sharply you—pointlessly—tried to convince yourself that your heart had started to beat faster because it was just bored after having been still for so long – yeah, right – and not because Jungkook was fighting for this harder than you’d expected him to.

Then, suddenly, there came a knock on your door.

Confused, you put your phone down and headed back into the hallway of your dorm. If Namjoon forgot something, he could have just entered since the door was unlocked anyway, but he must have been too well-mannered to enter someone else’s house without an invitation—

It wasn’t Namjoon.

“Hi,” Jungkook said when you opened the door. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he lowered his eyes as soon as he saw your face, but not soon enough. You still caught the sight of a bloody gnash running down his left cheekbone.

“Jungkook—what—” you started to say but then ended up stumbling over your own thoughts as you weren’t sure what to ask him first – why he was here, or why he was bleeding. “What happened?”

“Hmm?” he appeared to have been expecting a different question. “Oh—nothing.”

It was clearly not nothing as the boy in front of you purposefully turned his whole body so he could hide the injured part of his face without raising any suspicions – which rose all the suspicions as he stood with his body unnaturally twisted towards the wall next to your door.

“Were you in a fight?” you asked, even though the answer was loud and obvious, and literally right there on his face.

“No—well, yeah, but it’s not serious,” he said, refusing to look at you still. He didn’t come here to stare at the floor but he – like a dense idiot that he sometimes was – did not expect you to ask him about the wound. “It’s just—I wasn’t in the mood and someone provoked me. It’s stupid.”

Stupid or not, he got hurt again even before his injuries from the drunken car accident had time to heal. You craved to know the reasons why he kept putting himself into these sort of situations but you weren’t going to ask; you couldn’t – not after your last conversation.

“You’re bleeding,” you pointed out the obvious.

“I know. It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine but your heart was beating too fast and you couldn’t focus on one thing at a time. Finally, you asked him the one question he’d prepared himself for.

“What are you doing here?”

Jungkook raised his eyes to yours and explained very simply, “you didn’t answer my call.”

He said it as if the line of actions leading up from you, not answering his call, to him, showing up on your doorstep, was straight, natural, and absolutely understandable.

You didn’t know what to say to that – it was a comment about as obvious as the “you’re bleeding” one that you’d made just a second ago – but since you were exchanging observations instead of offering explanations, you leaned against the door-frame with your shoulder and crossed your arms over your chest, ready to keep going.

“Right,” you said. “You weren’t in class today.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded and, finally, provided an explanation – however poor it was – for (some of) his actions, “I wasn’t—I didn’t feel like coming.”

You weren’t in a position to question him about this further. And even if you were, he probably wouldn’t have answered you anyway – his defensive stance made that very clear.

“I see,” you said. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said again – it was the only word he seemed to have no problems with – and then added after a moment’s hesitation, “I know it’s not a good enough reason but—”

You cut him off, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d have thought he flinched as he watched your eyes for a lingering moment and then took half a step back. “No, I’m just—”

“Like you said,” you reminded him then, your crossed arms suddenly threatening, “it’s none of my business.”

Jungkook swallowed, his jaw clenched. “”I’m—uh, about what I said… I—”

“Jungkook,” you said and the sound of his name coming from your lips – even under such uncomfortable circumstances – sounded pleasant to his ears. “You… you probably shouldn’t have come.”

You were pushing him away. For the first time in your life, you were standing up to him and Jungkook – with a bruised sense of self-worth and a chest that throbbed with pain much worse than the wound on his cheek – couldn’t help but feel a little scared. You weren’t relenting to him. You weren’t letting him have his way.

Seven years have ensured you learned from your past mistakes.

And that was why Jungkook did not—could not—walk away from your door. He had to prove himself to you now – he’s never had to do that to anyone who wasn’t his father before. And in this particular moment, proving his worth to his father seemed much easier than proving it to you.

“I know that,” he said, now wary that the damage he’d done to your friendship may have been irreversible. “I just didn’t like the way our last conversation ended. I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

You sighed. “I—no, look. It was me who started it. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that so out of the blue.”

“No, don’t. You had every right to do that. It was—”

“Jungkook,” you said again and if you weren’t going to stop saying his name, he felt like he might have to get his hands out of his pockets and touch you because this was starting to become a torture. “Even though we could have been more mature and just talked about it, you were right when you said that it wasn’t my business to worry about you. It really isn’t.”

He swallowed, a sparkle of fire flickering in his eyes. “No, it’s—”

“No,” you cut him off one last time because you knew something was going to stop you from doing it again: either you wouldn’t manage to open your mouth or he’d throw you against the wall to stop you from talking in some different way because, God knew, Jungkook sure looked like he was seconds away from doing just that. “It’s probably not a good idea for us to—”

“Oh,” a surprised gasp was suddenly heard down the hall. Automatically, both of you turned your heads to look.

Namjoon was coming out of the elevator a few feet down, several bags of popcorn kernels in his hands. He looked confused and even a little embarrassed to have spoken aloud, but his flustered state did not come close to match yours.

“Namjoon,” you said, clearing your throat.

“Namjoon?” Jungkook repeated through clenched teeth, his eyes focused on the unfamiliar guy in front of him. He’d never seen him before but Namjoon had no trouble recognizing the vocalist of Parental Advisory glaring at him.

All of a sudden, Jungkook had switched from agitation and turned to pure irritation – how dare this other guy interrupt you two? – that was quickly replaced by fury – how dare this other guy be your acquaintance that was, obviously, on his way to your dorm? – and you felt the need to do some damage control.

You swore you felt less uncomfortable on the very first date you’d ever gone to – the guy tried to kiss you and bumped his forehead into yours so hard, you thought he gave you both concussions – and, up until this moment, that has been one of the few memories that still made you cringe to this day. This was going to beat it for sure, though.

As you watched Namjoon and Jungkook eye each other warily – and, in Namjoon’s case, awkwardly because he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d just walked into – you wished the earth would swallow you whole because you didn’t know what to say to them – you weren’t dating either of them, so what was there to say, really? – let alone what to do now.

Slamming the door and barricading yourself inside of your room started to seem appealing.

“We’re doing a project together,” you ended up saying, your eyes on Jungkook, even though, objectively, you knew you didn’t owe him an explanation.

And yet, as Jungkook refused to look away from Namjoon, you began to fear that getting into two fights in the span of a few hours, wouldn’t be something that Jungkook was above of. And Namjoon – who was, honestly, just an outsider caught in the middle of something you couldn’t understand yourself – didn’t deserve to get punched simply for getting the popcorn too quickly.

“Yeah,” Namjoon spoke. He felt like he had to say something – you’d have disagreed, convinced that the wrong word from him could have provoked Jungkook to act irrationally – because, reading your body language, he could tell that you were having a conflict with yourself. “We have a project due—”

“You were right,” Jungkook suddenly turned to look at you, his eyes narrow and fierce. You swallowed but didn’t get to say anything back because he added, “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“You—”

If his words didn’t shut you up, then the fact that, as soon as he said them, he turned around on his heels and walked right past Namjoon and towards the staircase certainly did.

Blinking in surprise at his abrupt departure – although, maybe you should have been grateful that he left instead of starting a fist-fight – you glanced at Namjoon who was clumsily making his way towards you.

“I feel like I’ve made the situation a lot worse by opening my mouth,” he said timidly, “or, actually, maybe I made it worse when I got off the elevator. I’m sorry.”

“It’s—no,” you shook your head, moving to a side so he could come in. “It was already bad before you got here.”

Namjoon hesitated outside of your door, not daring to enter. “Are you and him—?”

“No,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear the word that was coming. “We just—we have some unresolved issues, clearly, but we’re—we’re not—”

“I really am sorry if I interrupted,” he said, noticing how much you struggled with the word-that-must-not-be-said.

“It’s okay,” you told him with what you thought was a small smile – but, really, your lips just barely twitched – and Namjoon finally – albeit uncertainly – entered your room. “There wasn’t anything to interrupt. He was about to leave anyway.”

But even though you’d said this, Namjoon wasn’t entirely convinced and apologized several more times throughout the movie. You kept telling him that it was fine – because it really was – but, about thirty minutes into Hereditary, you were no longer really listening to what he was saying, and it wasn’t because you were too into the movie.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the look in Jungkook’s eyes as he walked away. It was the same look as the one you’d seen right before he drunkenly climbed behind the wheel of a car that night at the party.

keep reading | masterlist

[ijustwant2write]

A Little Secret-Alfie Solomons x OC!Reader (Part 2/?)

(GIF credit to @call-me-nightwing​)

Part 1

Masterlist

Prompts List

Tags: @haphazardhufflepuff @mollybegger-blog @broitsriah @maryan028​ @peakascum​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff @mzcrazy2

Summary: Izzy has no idea about the protection she is now under, causing her to panic when she spots men lingering outside her house. She needs Alfie’s help, but is hesitant, especially after she disappointed him. He has the power, and Izzy will never deny that.

Characters: Alfie Solomons x OC!Reader, Ollie x OC!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, panic attacks, violence, fighting, arguing, some fluff

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ollie was fully focused as he drove Izzy home, knowing that the men stationed at her home were already patrolling the area. Her home wasn’t in the safest neighbourhood, but Izzy had never brought up any troubles if she had any. Though when Ollie thought about it, she hardly talked about herself anyway. He really didn’t know who this woman was, only that she had some sort of tie to Alfie, probably the only woman his boss ever spoke about or was seen with.

"Sorry that Mr Solomons made you drop me off." Izzy apologised as they pulled up outside her house.

"Don't worry Izzy, I really didn't mind. Especially after what happened today."

He regretted saying that as he saw the panic appear on her face, cursing to himself when he realised that he was turning onto her street.

"You're safe you know, Alfie wouldn't let anything happen to you." Ollie calmly said.

"Why would something happen to me?"

"Izzy, it won't! Come on, I'll walk you to the door."

"No, don't worry. You've done enough for me Ollie. Good night."

Izzy climbed out of the car, hoping Ollie didn't notice how fast she was walking towards her front door. Her key was already out, and she hastily unlocked the door, but not before quickly waving to Ollie, acting as if everything was alright. As soon as he started driving away, she rushed inside, instantly locking and bolting the door shut (she had multiple locks that helped her sleep at night).

Her breathing was heavy as she practically tiptoed upstairs. She always hated noise, and something had always told her she needed to listen out in case anyone else had sneaked in. Izzy could always hear her neighbours either side of her. On the right, Mr Jeffrey was also alone in his old age, but his footsteps were heavy and dragged along the floor; then there was the Thomas's family, which consisted of a middle aged, married couple (who liked to shout at each other rather than talk) and their four feral children. Sometimes it was nice to know that there were people around her, but when she heard a random bump in the night, it frightened her to the core.

Laying in bed that night, Izzy couldn't stop her mind from flashing back to the events of that day. It had only just started to sink in. First the random man following her, humiliating herself in front of Mr Solomons and his business partners, all before someone was shot. It was supposed to be like any other day. Why was today different? Why was Izzy caught up in something like this when she had never done anything wrong?

The young woman bolted upright when she heard a cough outside. It was a simple cough, but who would be out at this time? There was actually a lot of explanations for that. It could be a homeless man, someone coming home from the pub. However, it still put Izzy on edge, and she just knew she had to check to put her mind at ease. Sliding out of bed, Izzy got onto all fours, crawling towards her window. Ever so slowly, she peaked through her curtains whilst on her knees, spotting a man stood in her back yard. Gasping, she fell back to the floor again, instantly beginning to panic. Izzy was too scared to move, but knew she had to get to the phone, even though it was downstairs. Continuing to crawl, she made it to the stairs, finally standing and going down the stairs as silently, but quickly as possible. She was extremely grateful that Alfie had installed a phone into the house as she reached up towards it, sitting on the cold floor beside the table it was set on.

Waiting for Alfie to pick up, Izzy prayed for some sort of noise from either neighbour, something to reassure her that they were awake and she could rush over there if needs be. Alfie still hadn’t answered when a shadow passed over her, casted from the small window in her front door. Her hand slapped over her mouth to silence her whimpers, trying to think of things in her house that could be used as a weapon. Were these men associates of the man who had been shot? What if they wanted revenge, so they were using her to get back at Alfie? 

“Who the fuck is this?” Alfie’s voice startled Izzy.

“Mr Solomons, there are two men at my house!” she exclaimed through a whisper. 

“There’s actually four Izzy.” he moaned, still half asleep.

“What?”

“I put them there, didn’t I?”

“W-why?”

“Just a precaution.”

Izzy hesitantly stood, staying close to the phone.“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Look, Izzy, it’s...it’s fucking three in the morning luv, I can’t think straight right now. We’ll talk about this later.”

Alfie put down the phone, leaving Izzy shocked with her mouth wide open. Although angry, she carefully put the phone back, only to yelp out when there was a knock at the door, despite it being soft. She opened it only by a crack, recognising one of Alfie’s men that dealt with anyone causing trouble for his boss.

“You alright miss?” he asked, his cockney accent think like Alfie’s.

Izzy just nodded, closing the door before he could say anything else. As she slumped off to bed again (dreading having to get up so early for work now she had less sleep), she thought of all the things she could scream in Mr Solomons’ face; however, that wasn’t going to happen, never in a million years. He would call her into his office, explain his reasons then send her away again. It was just easier that way.

No one noticed how tired Izzy looked that morning, though that was because she kept to herself as usual. Her eyes were bleary, straining when she checked through the documents she needed to fill out. Why was the writing always so small? Izzy distracted herself with the work load, wondering if Mr Solomons had forgotten about the call earlier that morning, or whether he just didn’t care. Either reason was fine with her, it meant not having to blush profusely in front of him whilst he explained himself.

“Izzy-”

She almost dropped the clipboard in her hands as Ollie showed up behind her. He held his hands up in surrender, backing away slightly as she caught her breath.

“What’s shaken you up?”

Izzy raised an eyebrow at him before looking back down at her papers.

“Oh right, sorry. Been so busy I just forgot about that and....” his words trailed off when he realised she wasn’t listening properly.“Mr Solomons wants you in his office, now.”

As Ollie walked away, Izzy quietly sighed to herself. The thing she had been avoiding was now here. Although at dawn it had seemed right to call him, she now felt stupid. Hopefully it was a light scolding before going back to work. 

Her light knocking on the door almost amused Alfie. If he had been talking to someone in his office, he would never have heard her. He called her in, seeing the bags under her eyes, and how she couldn’t seem to look at him. Gesturing to the seat across from him, he waited for her to sit before speaking.

“Look, last night-”

“I’m sorry Mr Solomons.”

They both spoke at the same time. Izzy shrunk further into her seat, scolding herself for being so rude. Of course he was going to speak first! Alfie waited a minute before an idea popped into his head.

“Izzy, please speak.”

Izzy was hesitant, thinking that this was maybe one of his mind games. He had a way of making people look a fool of themselves, she didn’t want to be one of them.

“I’m sorry for calling you so early. I overreacted, I should have just left it alone.” she mumbled.

Alfie groaned.“Come on girl, you fucking hate me right now, don’t ya?”

Her head shot up, eyes widening.“No! Of course I don’t!”

“Just tell me what you’re really thinking in that pretty little head of yours. We’ve known each other long enough for you to speak freely in my presence.”

She was still blushing from his (somewhat of a) compliment. Her mind was in two halves; one was stressing her not to say anything, thinking she would be in deep trouble if she did so, but on the other hand, she never had much chance to express herself, nor was she ever so tempted.

“Well...” Izzy thought for a moment,“I think I had a right to know your concerns for my safety. I should have known that those men were guarding me, b-because...because they scared me! There was a moment I thought you wouldn’t answer the phone and, and, I didn’t know how I was supposed to defend myself!”

Alfie had never heard her voice this loud, even though it would still be classed as her indoor voice. If the situation wasn’t so dangerous, he would have found it hard to contain a laugh. However, she seemed stressed, her voice wavering like it usually did when she became upset. Although she was now sat up straight, Alfie could see her shoulders slumped, hands clasped together to stop them visibly shaking. 

“Is there anything else you would like to add?” he quietly asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me in the first place?”

“Didn’t want to panic you. Didn’t work out that way did it?”

“What do I need to be worried about? Should I be looking out for someone coming to hurt me?”

Alfie sighed, running a hand down his face, a common habit of his. He wasn’t going to tell her the truth, he had seen what stress did to her when it took over, that wasn’t fair to send her spiraling again. 

“I was just paranoid after the other day. I should have told you.”

“So...will those men still be there tonight?”

“One more night. Just to make sure. I’ll get another lad to take you home again.”

They sat in silence, both unsure if the conversation was over now. Izzy was too nervous to stand in case it wasn’t, but the atmosphere was awkward. Her eyes cast down to her shoes, which were caked with dust from the floor. They would need cleaning later. Alfie still hadn’t said anything, he couldn’t look at Izzy either, staring at the wall off to his left. However, as both decided to do something about the silence, Izzy standing and Alfie beginning to speak, the awkwardness just increased. 

“Iz,” Alfie was surprised as she shot back down into her seat,“don’t stress, yeah? I don’t want to see you like that again, alright.”

Izzy didn’t reply, she didn’t even nod. 

“Right.” Alfie mumbled.“Well, that’s all I had to say really.”

Izzy said nothing as she stood again, swiftly leaving and almost sprinting away from the office. The humiliation made her feel sick, situations like those were her worst fear. But Alfie felt somewhat relieved it was over, thinking he would get away with hiding the truth for a little longer.

It was the last hour of the working day, and Izzy was finding it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. She had updated the stock numbers, happy to be out of the large, cold and daunting room. It was never her favourite part of the day. There were only a few light bulbs in there, they were always dim no matter how many times they had been replaced. Her shoulders were tense, keeping her eyes focused on the papers as to not notice the ominous shadows being casted around her. If she stared at a spot for too long, her mind would create something sinister that had plagued her nightmares. Suddenly the lights went out, darkness enveloping everything. It was pitch black, she was alone, she couldn’t stay there.

“Hello?!” she called out.“I’m still in here! Is anyone out there? Was there a power cut?!”

She stumbled her way through the dark, not making it very far when her skirt got caught on something, causing her to hastily tug on it. Izzy pulled too hard in a panic, falling onto her side on the stone floor. But she didn’t stay down for long, scrambling onto her feet. Feeling disorientated, Izzy clutched onto her chest as her breathing became rapid, heart beating fast and loud in her ears. Her hands felt around for the wooden door, but all she felt were barrels upon barrels, sometimes the stone wall. There was no way of knowing which way to go, she couldn't tell which way she was facing.

Pinning her back to the wall, she slowly slid down it, wrapping her arms around her knees and clutching onto her skin. She despised the dark, it held too many horrible memories, it was untrustworthy, anything could be lurking in it. Sobs racked her body, feeling completely forgotten, an all too familiar feeling to her. She was about to cry out again when the door burst open, light finally shining upon her;it had been further away than expected, but that didn't stop her from leaping up and dashing out of the room.

Izzy paid no attention to the men around her, coming to halt away from the group. Shaking hands cradled her face, as if she had to check that she was still there. Her cheeks were wet from the tears which she gently wiped away as she steadied her breathing, reminding herself over and over that she was safe again.

"You alright Izzy?" Ollie quietly asked as he stood in front her her.

She frantically nodded her head, moving away from him. She didn't want anyone near her just yet.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing?!" Aflie shouted in a worker's face.

"I didn't know she was in there!" the man protested.

"You should have checked before switching the fucking light off! Anyone could have been in there. What if a barrel fell on top of someone? Hm? You would have someone's death on your hands!"

"She would have been fine if she acted like an adult. Who on earth is still scared of the dark at her age?"

Ollie cringed as he finished his sentence. He knew what was coming. He held his arm out in front of Izzy, trying to turn her around or block her view of Alfie. However, Izzy didn't look away, she was never one for violence, but the shock of Alfie’s outburst had drawn her in.

The rage consuming Alfie was obvious. Alfie Solomons was an intimidating man when he was neutral, when someone made him angry, it was as if he were a monster out of a horror novel. The worker didn't even see Alfie pull his fist back before it punched him in the face, sending him flying to the floor. He had no time to even cry out as Alfie kicked him in the ribs, stumbling slightly before regaining his balance.

"Sort it out Ollie." he grumbled, walking away.

Izzy didn't feel as scared as she thought she would. Seeing someone being beaten up wasn't pleasurable to her, but she realised why she wasn't fearing Alfie again; he had an outburst because the man had disrespected her. He had stood up for her.

"Mr Solomons!" Izzy boldly called out, running after him.

"Izzy, don't!" Ollie tried to stop her.

Alfie stopped in his tracks, his fists clenching tightly. He heard her heels across the floor, getting closer and closer. He couldn't talk to her, not like this.

"Mr Solomons, I-" she started, but was soon interrupted.

"I don't want to hear it Izzy." he didn't even turn around and began walking away again.

Her voice became quieter."No, I just wanted to say-"

"I don't need your fucking opinion! I run this place, I discipline how I want to!" he shouted, storming into his office and slamming the door shut, causing the sound to echo out.

Every other man in the building had been listening (it was impossible not to). After staring at the door for a few more seconds, they knew the show was over, getting back to finishing their work for the day.

"Izzy, you shouldn't have done that." Ollie sighed once he caught up to her.

Her usual demeanour had returned now, ducking her head in embarrassment."I just wanted to thank him."

[energyanon]

Surprise reading as I can’t seem to shake off the curiosity. Ok, I’m gonna set them up in relation to this drama. Personally, I don’t believe it. NV would have to have various personality disorders in order for this to be true, among 5000 other reasons why that is not normal, sane human behaviour. But the Instagram.. so many things don’t match up. However, both me and another anon felt fuzzy headed when we were representing her.. maybe it’s not just her overthinking, maybe it’s something more relating to some kind of disorder, but that’s not my place to say. Let’s check it out. Once again I’m gonna type as I go.

I’ve decided for three set ups here: 1. NV, 2. The group chat as a whole as cited on said Instagram, and 3. Henry.

Set up 2. (The GC) first. I picked up NV and got a headache.

First flag: Natalie wanted to be on top of the GC… that’s weird..

Henry is at a distance but he is staring at them both. Starting to feel like I may have been wrong in my judgment here ha.. 😬 I’m really hoping it’s not true cause otherwise that’s fucking sad and NV has genuine issues. But, I’m ok with being wrong.

Alright, let’s start as NV (cause GC, I feel I already know their feelings regardless of if it’s true or not) FYI, I have moved NV to being close but not on top, as one energy on top of - group of energies would be much too hard to decipher.

NV:

Immediate dizziness. I feel very hot and my air con is currently blasting down upon me so it’s not me. The group chat feels very little to NV. like tiny, as in I could step on them. (1. This can mean they’re not even being seen, she barely cares about them, or 2. Can feel more powerful than) as we know in the screenshots the latter was supposedly the case, so I’m not going to cross that out just yet, but it feels more like I’m just not even seeing them. they’re dirt under my feet. They don’t really have her attention and she’s not super bothered by them, but once I brought her attention to it She does want to stamp it out, it’s a complete nuisance. She wants to cover them up. I gave them a little tap, which ended turning into many taps which turned into actually wanting to destroy their rep all together. so she’s angry about it. (At this point I don’t know if she’s angry about This situation being a lie, as in she’s sick of these people doing this to her, or if she’s genuinely angry at the group for exposing her) the tiny dirt now feels a bit bigger but more like a basketball sized nuisance. She still feels bigger than them, it’s just that this is so ANNOYING. Still wants to rip them up into little pieces, she’s annoyed, she’s moving me around a whole bunch, she’s angry, she’s frustrated, she’s tying her hair up, she’s not having it. like it’s fucking annoying. this is all so ANNOYING. She’s stressed, she’s annoyed, she wants this over and done with.

No more energy shifts. Incoming questions.

Q: do you know them?

No I don’t fucking know them

Ok do you think that was a friend who exposed you?

I don’t know I can’t think I- (just a bunch of profanities) [note: it’s like she’s keyboard smashing in my brain right now it’s REALLY annoyed]

Jaw clenched, I’m swaying from side to side my hands are on my hips, hair away from my face I want to move somewhere else but I need to deal with THIS FUCKING THING FIRST ISHDJFKSJXJDSNX.

god it is SO ANNOYING like if you guys were all in front of me right now you’d be heading me yelling and screaming and So irritated I’m so I’m SO Annoyed. I can’t even think of any other questions to ask cause I’m too busy getting keyboard smashed atm.

I’m gonna move to the group to just see if the intentions there are legit. I need a break from NV.

Ok the group:

the group have some anxiety, stomach dropped. They’re not angry they’re just looking at NV. None of them can be sure if It was NV - I think some of them doubt but it was a “get it out just in case” situation. At least one of them feel bad. Nervous jitters from my right leg. You know how you fidget when you’re waiting to get in trouble?

Q: do you believe it was NV?

There are many of them so I’ll just say it as it came up. No (1) I don’t know (majority) one of them is a yeah, feels like the leader of the group but even then the yeah isn’t a solid resounding yeah. But it’s also not like a “yeaahhh?” It’s like I’m just gonna make a decision and it’s yeah.

Q: are you mad that nv is with Henry

I’m not mad (1)

We’re not mad, we just think he could do better. (Majority)

Q: why did you do this

To expose her

Q: why to expose her if you didn’t truly believe it was her

There is a very weak “it was the right thing to do” like.. when I say weak it feels like they don’t even believe that, but they’ve convinced themselves it is..?

Q: at any point did you lie or fabricate the screenshots?

Resounding no, but one solid yes from someone.

Q: Yes?

One of them.

Q: which one

(I was shown one of them, it was one of the purple and black ones, one where there isn’t much purple - I’ll have to check it after)

Ok, my leg isn’t going crazy anymore - there is just an expectant waiting. They’re looking at NV, she’s taller than them but not much taller (not like they’re a basketball being looked down upon, just normal human heights) the feeling is just waiting. Waiting to see if there is a response. That’s it, that’s all I’ve been given I can’t even conjure Up another question. (Sometimes when the energy is done sharing its just done, I can’t force it past that and I’m not in my right to)

Checking Henry:

Henry is tired, he’s disillusioned, he’s just staring into space. The other two are in front of him (facing one another) but he doesn’t see them. Genuinely no thoughts from him it’s complete disassociation. But I did ask if he knew about this situation, he doesn’t seem to know yet.

And yet he’s still disassociating.. the thought “I don’t know what to do” came up, but it was so slow and fractured it was like… you know that video of that kid who’s trying to say have you ever had a dream that you could do anything but he muddles it up for 20 seconds before getting to it? It’s like that (I’ll link it when I’m done)

“I don’t kn- I just I - what do I ev- wh-“ and it keeps going but imagine it taking FOREVER for him to say it.

He’s stuck in the disassociation. Weird choice, but I need to do it. I’m gonna slap him. (Which yes, means slapping myself)

Ok, that didn’t make much difference, he’s still super tired, he still didn’t see the other two but I tried to bring his attention to NV and he was already turning around to leave “I don’t care, I don’t care I’m too tired” and then he turned back and said to NV to clarify “I do care, but I don’t, I’m tired” and I took him out cause he was walking out of there anyway.

Back to NV one last time, and then I’m doing other stuff with my day and then I’ll do CE tonight.

NV

It’s always dizziness with this chick, I swear. Everytime im with her I’m dizzy, I’m losing blood pressure. She’s calmed down at least but fuck I’m dizzy more dizzy than I usually am (can be her, could also be me continuously going into different energies, I don’t tend to feel like this though but don’t rule it out)

Dizzy, Im not tired, but fatigued like I don’t need to sleep, I need to just lay down. I see the GC but they can fuck off I don’t care. She wants to kick them out of the way. As soon as she does she wants to leap out at them and tear them to shreds. She goes from 1- 100 real quick. I don’t want her to destroy my representative for the group, cause I don’t want anything to accidentally manifest in real time for the actual group, so im going to create a little thing that she can destroy instead - just in case there are any energetic consequences of her destroying the representation of the GC. Found a little piece of paper I called it placebo GC and we’re tearing it up.

Ok so, I got her to tear up Placebo GC. She got raveonous with it. I am now coming to believe that NV has some major anger issues. To be fair, im feeling how annoyed she is and I get it honestly it’s the only way to get out this level of emotion. It’s not healthy, therapy is needed for sure, but I’m not gonna sit here like this and say that she’s overreacting cause when you’re feeling like she is, there’s no where else for this to go

She ripped them up, crushed them, tore at them with her teeth, crushed them into a little ball again and chucked them away and then we just screamed “FUCK!” For literally about 3 minutes and she was LIVID. I’ve sat her down now while I write this, she’s still annoyed, she’s not livid.

Interesting to note though, all throughout the screaming there was never a single thought that came up that was like “why can’t they just let US live, why can’t we just BE together” she really doesn’t seem to care about the affect it has on her and Henry’s relationship, she’s just annoyed people are talking shit. Like she just doesn’t care that people won’t accept them.

Oh! I haven’t checked on her vs. HC so lemme do that. I wanna see if she checks up on him too, cause from a normal relationship perspective, this would affect him too. But let’s see.

Yup, ok, nothing from her end, if anything she’s giving him the silent treatment. Like she’s looking at him in the way you do when your partner has said something stupid and you’re too angry to answer. But she doesn’t care that he’s there. I went to him also to see if he would comfort her and he was just a brick wall, kind of more like “here I am I’m showing up but idc. I really idc. Sorry that you’re going through it I guess.” Both of them had the ~aura~ (I don’t know how to explain it on text) of “this did not go as planned” however, they didn’t SAY that, just as an FYI, it was just a bit of a shared feeling translated into words.

That’s it. I’m ending it there. I’ve got life admin to do, be back later for a CE reading as promised. :)

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

JUICE ORTIZ x READER ⨟ PROMPT

Anon asked: Could I pretty please request prompts 13 & 49 with Juice?? Maybe where she goes to the station and she talks to him and she says "I love you" before she realizes what she said and she gets embarrassed and it's really cute and fluffy??

13. “I’ve been arrested for throwing a taco to a cop”.

49. “I love you”. (saying it for the first time)

Word Count: 823

Author comments: This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @minnicelli @ottosuricato @agirllovespasta ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You're waiting outside of the police station, head down, frowning and both arms crossed on your chest. You're angry, totally mad and you're not going to hide it. So, when Juice finds you there and he's about to hug you, in front of Chibs and Jax, you just push him away. The president and the vice know then that they better go away, before you pay your rage with them too. Your friend is a little confused, until he remember that yesterday was Wednesday. Your movie night. When you started your friendship two years ago, he was super excited every Tuesday, organizing the night with enough time to bought junk food and drinks, and to find the perfect movie to watch. And you understand that he has to attend SOA business, but yesterday?

“Can you believe it?” He laughs somewhat nervous, lighting a cigar and having a puff. “I've been arrested for throwing a taco to a cop”.

Juice is trying to make you laugh, before telling you how much he's sorry. But you don't give him any chance, standing up from the metal railing keeping your hands into the pockets of the leather jacket. You begin to walk your way back home, you're tired after being waiting for him until five in the morning. You didn't sleep more than two hours. Hearing him snorting, your boots go downstairs to turn at the left.

And when you're about to cross the road, a hand covered by golden rings stops you by surrounding your waist. He holds you close, guiding you inside an alley that cuts the avenue.

“Hey, (Y/N), I'm sorry, okay?”

“Yeah… that's what you have been saying the last three Thursdays”.

“Oh, c'mon! I forgot it, we can watch those movies whenever”.

“You're twenty four, seven, with the club, Juice. It's supposed that Wednesday is our night, because Jax lets you free”.

“I said I'm sorry”. He just say frowning a little, seeming like he thinks you're overreacting.

“Cool. I'll set another plans for the next Wednesday”.

“No, wait! I prom—”.

“Juice, I get it. You prefer to be with your friends, and that's okay”.

“You're my friend”. He insists cupping your cheeks in his hands, sounding desperate for you to understand him.

“Then, it should be as important to you as it is to me”.

“C'mon! It's just a day, (Y/N)! Don't be dramatic”. Juice rolls his eyes, pulling himself away. And that hurts. And you can't help but slapping his face with all the anger residing inside you.

It takes you some seconds to know what have you done, but you're not going to say that you're sorry, nor anything like that. Because you're not. You're upset, sad and bereaved.

“You're always with them, and I don't even know if you're gonna… fucking come back, or if you're gonna die because of a gun, a knife, a car running over you, or whatever. It's not fair, Juice. I just want a night with you. Just one”. You say raising your voice more than you can notice, pointing him with a forefinger, even if the Son' still in shock because of the hit. “I wanna spend time with you too, I… I… need it. It's not fair”.

“(Y/N)...”

“Shit, no! Yesterday was a horrible day for me. I just wanted to go home, be with you lying in the sofa. You're my safe place! I love you! Do you know how painful is having it for almost two yea—”.

“What did you said?”

Your blood freezes, you're feeling out of air trying to swallow your own saliva by having a deep breath. Your body getting tense when he takes some steps close to you, while feeling the burn on your cheeks. Juice is drawing a silly smile on his lips, twisting slightly his neck, waiting for you to repeat your words. The only thing you want is be swallowed up by the earth.

“Do you… love me? Since when?” He asks then, narrowing his eyes.

Putting away your view, he takes the advantage to kiss you, placing his hands back to your face. But is not a conventional kiss, more than a set of them; shorts, gently, constants. Once and again, until he infects you that goofy smile installed on his mouth.

“I was just… trying to put some distance… because I thought… you didn't feel… as I do”. Every lovely gesture interrupts his words, but you're not going to complain about it. “I love you too… shit, I'm fucking happy… I'm sorry… I've been acting like… an asshole…”

“It's okay, you didn't know”. You finally say, surrounding his neck with both arms to hug him.

He closes you tightly, taking you into his body as if it was the first time after a long time.

“Come to my house, now, and sleep with me. I'll make it up to you this evening”.

“You better, Juan Carlos…”

[whyiask]

Just a Stupid Dare (Ch.10)

Masterpost Ao3 Link tw/cw: mm not any that I can think of? lmk if i need to add any. Note: Hi. Remember when I abandoned this fic for literal months? I panicked bc I didn't know how it was going to end and that stressed me out but it's all good now bc I finally have a completed plotted out story. This also means that when I say 'regular updates', I'm not lying, because I write much better with an outline and so :D (i have BIG things planned ;) )

---

Virgil was busy during lunch on Monday, and Roman didn’t know whether Logan would want to see him, so he brought his lunch to the garden behind the school to eat. It was surprisingly nice weather outside, peaceful, if not a bit isolating. It gave him plenty of time to hear the footsteps approaching before he turned around.

Patton stood by the entrance, hands waving by his sides like an idle video game character. He was, as usual, decked out in stylish pastels and way-too-large square glasses perched on his nose. His blondish brown curls spilled out around his face.

“Hi Ro,” he said softly, and Roman patted the bench next to him, a silent invitation to come in. Patton accepted the olive branch enthusiastically, situating himself on the bench and crossing his legs underneath him.

“Logan wanted to say sorry,” he said. Roman nearly spit out his bite of food. He swallowed hastily.

“What?” he asked, because Logan didn’t often apologize.

“He knows he overreacted and he’s super sorry, but to be fair, you know his history with Virgil and he probably felt betrayed that you would willingly spend time around him, even if he has,” Patton hesitated, “...changed for the better.”

Roman perked up. “You believe me?”

Patton hesitated again, fingers absently tracing the pen doodles on his arms. “...I still don’t trust him, but I trust you and if you say he’s trying, then I’ll believe you. I don’t think Logan can, not now, maybe not ever, but I do trust your judgement on this one.”

Patton offered a small smile and patted Roman’s shoulder. “Want to come sit with us instead of being alone out here? Or I could stay with you if you want.”

“You can stay,” Roman said, giving a slight smile in return.

---

Virgil caught up with Roman in between classes. He raced up, out of breath, and held up a hand. Roman paused and smiled.

"Hey!" he chirped. Virgil smirked and gave a small nod of his head.

"Hi," Virgil breathed. "Sorry about yesterday, I had no idea they were coming over. I've given them a fake explanation and they seem to buy it for now."

"That's good," Roman agreed. "Remus was being a dick about it so I popped one of his tires."

Virgil let out a shocked laugh. So that's why Remus was in such an irritable mood today.

"Ohoho, looks like someone's got a bit of a rebellious streak. Didn't expect it from the nerdy theater kid, not gonna lie."

Roman rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Glad I could surprise you, the emo nightmare himself, with my heroic feats. I suppose sometimes miracles do come true."

Virgil paused for a moment, thinking. "Since you're clearly not afraid of being a bit criminal," he began.

"I don't know if I like where this is going-"

"How do you feel about going vandalizing later tonight?"

Roman's protest came to a halt, and his eyes opened wider. "...I'm listening."

"Me. You. 10:00 at the skatepark. It'll be a date," Virgil joked.

"You're on," Roman grinned. "See you tonight. Now, if you don't mind, I have a class to attend."

---

Virgil had been waiting at the park for about 15 minutes, clad in his black hoodie, before Roman arrived.

“You’re late,” Virgil noted absently, taking in the two skateboards tucked under Roman’s arm. He too was dressed with a hoodie, fraying and dark red, a golden crown stitched onto the front. It suited him.

“Time is a social construct,” Roman said, throwing down one of the skateboard and hopping on, gliding the last few feet over to Virgil before stopping himself with his foot.

Virgil watched him, wide eyed. “...I didn’t know you know how to skateboard.”

Roman snorted. “You don’t?” He paused at the look on Virgil’s face. “Oh, uh- I can teach you if you want?” he offered. “I mean, I did bring two.”

“That would be pretty chill, I think,” Virgil said. He hefted up his bag of spray paints and supplies for Roman to see. “I’ve brought my paints.” He pulled out a pair of disposable gloves and tossed them to Roman. He snapped on his own pair and shook out his arms.

“Come, take whichever ones you want. Feel free to paint wherever, but try not to go over the top of any big and detailed designs.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Roman said, shuffling around in the bag. He eventually picked out a gold and a red and puttered off to a blank area. Virgil lifted the whole bag over his shoulder and found a spot near to Roman’s.

He got to work making a storm cloud design, quickly mapping it out and pulling out a few purples and grays. Roman finished his pretty soon and came to sit behind Virgil, watching him work in silence.

When he finally finished and stepped away, Roman spoke.

“That’s so cool, wow.”

Virgil turned around and smirked at Roman’s slightly awed expression, and nudged him up. “Come on, show me what you did.”

Roman laughed, a bright sound in the shadows of the night.

“It’s not nearly as good as yours,” Roman said, leading Virgil to his small design. It was a crown, similar to the one on his hoodie.

“Fancy yourself a prince, hmm?” Virgil teased. “Honestly though, this is really good for your first time ever. I can come back later and touch it up, make it a little more dynamic if you want?”

Roman beamed. Once again, Virgil marveled at how he could emit such a brightness in the gloom of the lonely park.

“Well, come on Princey, I do believe I am owed a lesson in skateboarding.”

Roman might’ve flushed at the nickname, but it was hard to tell in the bleary lighting.

“Still can’t believe that you regularly come to this park to graffiti and yet never learned how to skateboard,” Roman laughed. Virgil half-grimaced, half-grinned, because really, what do you say to that?

“I’m just special that way.”

“Keep telling yourself that, maybe one day it’ll be true.”

“Oh, just you wait, Princey,” Virgil said. “Just you wait,” he repeated, a little sadder than before. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

[fanfalc-616]

Time for Amnesia

Chapter Ten: “Don’t Make Me Repeat Myself.”

(Previous Chapter Here)

Yeah sorry for the mix up here’s the chapter I finally wrote after like 6 months-

Something pokes his face.

Blinking groggily, Kai looks around. Where the hell is he this time? What’s going on?

It takes him a few moments to realize that he’s stuck in some kind of prison cell, laying uncomfortably on the floor.

Jay pokes him again. “Are you awake yet?” He prompts.

Kai immediately gets to his feet, cursing at the stone walls lined with metal and the way the sole window is in the door, a set of bars through it for extra security.

“Yeah, we’re kinda stuck. Captured. The others probably have no idea where we are or who kidnapped us- we don’t even know who kidnapped us.” Jay gives a quiet laugh- one more out of fear than humor.

“We’re gonna die. This is it. We’re just going to get murdered here. Are we even going to find out who captured us? I mean probably, but we’ll be killed immediately after. I’d say we haunt them as ghosts, but after seeing what that did to Cole, I’d rather be in an afterlife. I think. I’ll have to ask him what being a ghost was really like- or I would, if we had the chance to see him before getting murdered!” Jay’s clearly panicking, and- hey, isn’t he supposed to be the experienced one here?!

Kai stares at him for a few moments. “We- we’re not gonna die.” His voice is shaky, but he tries to ignore that as he goes up to the barred window in the door. No, he won’t die, he refuses to die. This can’t be how it ends, with him not even knowing who he is! That’s not fair!

He wills his fire into his hands, but nothing happens. Scowling, he tries again, but for some reason, it still doesn’t work.

Ugh, come on, he did this before without even really thinking about it! Why is it so hard to do now?!

“Jay, blast this thing with lightning!” He instructs. “We can figure out where to go from there.”

Jay looks unimpressed. “It’s vengestone. You can’t use elemental powers when there’s vengestone.” He sounds tired, and Kai gives him a glare.

“Would you mind picking an emotion and sticking with it? Panic or calm or annoying or whatever? I’m not in the mood to navigate whatever the hell is going on in your head.”

He ignores the sputtering noise the ginger makes in response in favor of looking closer at the bars of the cell they’re in. There’s gotta be something he can do here…

Unfortunately, if there actually is something he can do, he can’t figure out what it is. Which is bullshit, but something tells him this is how his life usually ends up going.

With a grimace, he looks back at Jay. “Do you know who captured us? Or why?”

The other shrugs, which only serves to fuel his annoyance. “No idea,” he admits, “but they’re probably trying to keep us from stopping them from doing something evil.”

For a few moments, all he can do is stare. Seriously? This is what he’s working with here? What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

“That’s super helpful, thanks,” he grumbles sarcastically, silently lamenting his past self. Why would he hang out with these people to begin with? Sure, they said something about him needing to rescue Nya, but couldn’t he have just left afterwards? Why would he let himself get put into these situations?

“Look, we- we’re probably gonna be fine.” Jay assures. “It’s just- uh. I tend to overreact a lot. It’s gonna be okay, I just freak out easy.” He sounds uncertain of himself, and Kai resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Like I said: pick an emotion and stick to it,” he snaps, turning away again. This entire situation is infuriating as it is, he really doesn’t need Jay pissing him off more.

Shaking his head, Kai comes to a conclusion. He doesn’t know what’s going down here, but whatever it is needs to hurry up and just happen.

Narrowing his eyes, he takes a step back, trying to dig back into those forgotten memories. He knows how to fight, doesn’t he? Why can't he remember it?!

With a huff, he comes to a decision. He’ll give this a shot and hope that his muscle memory will take care of it.

“Kai?” Jay speaks up behind him, but Kai ignores him in favor of taking a deep breath, preparing himself.

“Kai, I don’t think-“

Summoning all of the rage and frustration inside of him, Kai moves forward, kicking the door with as much strength as he can muster.

But even with all the force in his hit, the door only rattles against its hinges in response.

As a matter of fact, the only real result is the red-hot pain that’s suddenly jolting up his leg.

The high-pitched yelp that escapes him is just plain embarrassing, and as if to damage his pride more, he ends up stumbling backwards, falling flat on his ass against the stone floor.

“Ow,” he grumbles, grabbing his foot instinctively. Damn, that hurt a lot more than he thought it would- well, actually, he wasn’t expecting it to hurt at all. In the movies, the door would’ve just swung right open.

But this isn’t a movie. This is real.

The sudden understanding hits him like a bucket of ice water.

He keeps not thinking, he keeps just acting, but this isn’t a game. He knows nothing about what’s going on, he doesn’t know what enemies he has, and all he’s done so far is alienate the people who he needs to stay alive.

Jay pries his hands off of his foot, and Kai feels himself flinch. When had he gotten that close?

“Alright, uh, maybe don’t do that again.” The ginger suggests. “It doesn’t look too bad, but there’s probably gonna be a few bruises.”

Grimacing, Kai nods. “Okay,” he agrees, ignoring the frustration boiling in his chest.

He can’t afford to keep doing this. Like it or not, this is his situation. If he keeps this up, he’s going to get himself killed. He needs to work with the allies his past self had made- he has them for a reason.

That doesn’t make them any less annoying, though.

Jay seems surprised- probably because he didn’t snap at him. Well, actually, if he’s being honest, he probably needs to do something to fix whatever damage he had done to their relationship since he woke up.

Not romantically, though. He doesn’t even want to think about that.

Gritting his teeth, he abandons his pride- for the moment, at least. “I was being mean to you earlier. ‘m sorry.” He mutters the words in a low growl, refusing to look at the other while he does.

Even though his eyes are on the floor, he can still tell how startled Jay is. Which is honestly fair- Kai hasn’t exactly been the nicest since he woke up.

“What?”

Flashing him a glare, Kai struggles to keep his temper under control. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he snaps.

He has to get along with these people, sure- he doesn’t have a choice- but would it really hurt for them to be less annoying? Or is that just their personalities?

Jay opens his mouth to reply, but just then, there’s a weird slithering noise coming down the hall, growing closer. Silently, they exchange a glance. The ginger seems to be trying to tell him something, but for the life of him, he can’t figure out what.

Quickly pulling the two of them to their feet, Jay grabs him by the arm and pushes him against the wall by the door. Once he has, he takes a few steps back, staring out the window definitely.

It takes a moment before that clicks- if the door is opened, anything on the other side won’t be able to immediately see him. Of course, it comes with the risk of getting a bloody nose, but-

The noise stops just outside the door, and even though Kai can’t see past the bars where he is, he can at least see the ginger’s almost shocked expression.

“Hello there, ninja. Long time no see, hm?”

Taking half a step back and clenching his fists, Jay seems to be trying to swallow back his fear. “Ha, with that ugly mug, I wish it’d been longer!” He snaps.

“And you are still as unoriginal as always, it seems,” the stranger tsks, sounding amused. “But I suppose I must ask, what happened to that little fire-starting friend of yours? He was in here earlier, I know.”

Kai feels himself tense, but Jay doesn’t even glance in his direction. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” He finishes the words off with a hesitant smirk, but then pauses. “Well, I mean, I guess technically I’m the one with the lightning powers… but I’m still not telling you anything!”

There’s another pause, and after a few moments of it, Jay huffs, narrowing his eyes. “I see that someone doesn't know their memes, huh?”

“Yes, well, some of us are actually intelligent. But that is… besides the point. I wasn’t aiming for the two of you in particular for this, but I suppose you’ll do.”

This time, Jay does glance towards Kai, a poorly-hidden terrified look on his face for the split second their eyes meet.

“So he’s just beside the door, then? Hmm. I suppose I had a bit too high of an opinion of you both to think one of you could have escaped,” the stranger chuckles again, somehow making it sound even more insulting than before. “But then again, I most likely would have caught him again anyway.”

Kai can feel his breathing catch at the words, his entire body tensing with apprehension.

Who even is this guy?!

Jay scoffs, but he’s still clearly stressed out. “Don’t flatter yourself, Pythor. We’ve beaten you before, and we’ll do it again!”

Alright, so their name is Pythor. If Kai didn’t know any better, he’d say that that kind of name would belong to a serpentine. But serpentine are just an old bedtime story, so they can’t be-

Well, it wasn’t long ago he thought the same thing about magic. So it might be possible. But it still doesn’t sound-

Wait. When Lloyd was telling him about the volcano… he mentioned serpentine, didn’t he? And- and this Pythor guy specifically!

… and this serves to show that Kai should really pay more attention to what these guys talk about.

Speaking of which, he should probably tune back in to whatever’s going on with Jay and Pythor now.

“-can’t be serious. I mean, I knew you were crazy, but this is a whole new level, even for you. Didn’t someone actually say that the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results? I don’t remember who, but my point stands! You-“

“Yes, well, I don’t recall asking for your opinion on the matter. I do, however, have other questions I would like answers to.” The words are spoken threateningly, intense enough that Kai can feel himself shudder.

Jay, however, looks unaffected- actually, he looks like he’s starting to calm down from his earlier panic. “And why would we give them to you?”

Fear still coiled in his guts, Kai forces himself to take deep breaths. This doesn’t look good, and Jay just seems to be escalating the situation. And Kai would try to do the opposite but one: he doesn’t know how. Two: he’s pretty sure Pythor wouldn’t listen. And three: he has a very intense desire to punch this guy in the face. There’s not really a reason, he’s just annoying and sounds really punchable.

“Well, blue ninja, I think you’ll find it’s because you don’t have a say in the matter. One way or another, I-“

Fuck it.

Shoving his rational thoughts to the side, Kai quickly sidesteps in front of the door. And- yeah, that’s definitely a serpentine. Still, he doesn’t let himself dwell on that. If anything, the long neck is a plus.

Because it’s that much easier to reach through the bars and grab.

Hand tight around Pythor’s throat, he yanks him into the door, forcing his head to slam against it with a very satisfying smack.

Kai lets himself smirk as he lets go, expecting the snake to collapse to the floor from the force of the hit.

Instead, he finds himself staring into infuriated magenta eyes.

Oh. Okay.

Kai may have made a mistake.

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Halw Galabî

Part 15 of ‘A Deep Misunderstanding’.  Link to Series Masterlist.

Thorin falls for a Dwarrowdame raised by Elves, and tries to make know his feelings, but accidentally offends her, which leads to another and another misunderstanding between the two.

Based off of @immawriteyouthings​ ‘Falling Stars’

Note:  If you wish to be tagged for certain stories, just let me know and I can add you to a tag list!

Tags:

@kumqu4t​ @pixierox101​

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Estel

Word Count:  1,900

Warning(s):  Mention of time of the month, curse word(s)

Translation(s): Halw Galabî:  Sweet Words

Zirizkhîe:  My Gold One

Gaihithe:  My Little Dove

Sasakhabiya abnâmul:  You look beautiful

Ra sasakhabi abnâmul:  And you look handsome

Amrâl:  Love

Karkith:  Little Raven

Nê akhshum:  Don’t worry

Sindarin:

Mae loboth:  Furry rabbit

~~~~

I hated walking with every fibre of my being.  Eru, it was an unnecessary action; especially when I was currently bleeding profusely.  

Stupid periods.

A scowl decorated my downcast face as I walked behind Thorin on the open terrain of the meadow we were tromping through.  Not even the beautiful flowers planted by Yavanna's hand; swaying slightly in the vague gusts of wind could brighten my mood with their vibrant colours.

"Zirizkhîe, come here."  Thorin's rich tones brought my head up to look up into sapphire blue orbs; orbs that displayed a concern I was used to seeing these past few days.

Letting out a disgruntled sigh, I quickened my pace till I was by Thorin's side, shooting him a sideways glance.  "What do you need?"  I grumbled, and Thorin let out a soft laugh.

Cheeky bastard.

"I just wanted to talk with you.  Do you want to stop for a moment and rest?"  He asked, slipping a hand around my waist to gently grip my hip.  Merciful Manwë, his touch had my grouchiness fading just the littlest bit.

"No, I'm fine.  The faster we walk, the faster we reach the place where we are camping tonight."  I said matter-of-factly, leaning my head against his furry shoulder.

"I cannot argue with your logic there, Gaihithe."  Thorin said, giving me a look that sent butterflies throughout my stomach.  His sapphire blue eyes flickered over my body, sending little shivers down my spine.  "Sasakhabiya abnâmul."  He murmured, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Ra sasakhabi abnâmul."  I countered, and Thorin grinned, giving my hip a gentle squeeze.  

"Would ye tone it down?  None of us want to watch ye get all cozied up!"  Dwalin growled from behind us, and both Thorin and I turned to shoot a glare at the tattooed Dwarrow.  

Catching sight of each other doing the exact same thing, Thorin and I shared a look and began to laugh.  

"By the Valar, I've been spending too much time around you..."  I laughed, and Thorin gave me a frown that I saw right through.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing, Amrâlimê."  He said, and I elbowed him in the side, disappointment filling me for a moment when I didn't elicit a response from him.  Eru, it wasn't fair for him to be so muscular and tough!

Seeing my furrowed brow, Thorin gave me a cheeky grin.  "Did you really expect to hurt me, Amrâl?"  He asked, and I shrugged.

"Perhaps..."  I murmured, and he let out a rich, baritone laugh.  

"It'll take a bit more than that to hurt me...  I thought you said you were strong?"  He teased, and I glowered at him.

"I am!  It just doesn't seem like it when I'm up against a Dwarrow that's a few inches taller than me, much burlier, and of the opposite sex!"  I defended, crossing my arms over my chest and giving Thorin a petulant look.

Thorin raised his hands in a show of surrender.  "I apologize for offending you, my lady."  He said solemnly with a stiff nod, and I fought against the laughter bubbling up within me.

It wasn't fair how easily my emotions were swayed right now.

Losing the fight against it, I began to giggle, staring at Thorin and marveling at the twinkle his eyes took on when he smiled.  By the Valar, it made me fall harder for him.

But then the amusement in his eye was replaced with wide-eyed shock and he began to reach out a hand towards me.  "Estel, watch out for--"

I didn't hear the rest of his sentence due to the fact that I stumbled over something, and fell face-forward onto the ground.  Eru, this mirrored the occasion when we ran from the Wargs...

"Owww..."  I groaned, grimacing as I pushed myself onto my knees.  Looking down at my hands, I made a face as I took in the scrapes they'd gathered upon bearing the burden of my fall.

"Karkith!  Are you hurt?  Let me see your hands..."  Thorin dropped to his knees beside me, gently grabbing my hands in his large ones to look them over.  

"They just got scraped up...  I'll be fine, Thorin."  I said, trying to tug my hands away from Thorin.  "Really, it's just a few scrapes that'll heal up in a few days.  Nê akhshum."  

"Amrâlimê..."  Thorin murmured, looking at me with blue eyes that were alight with worry.  "I cannot help but worry."

A few groans emanated from the group around us at Thorin's words.  "Oh Mahal, there they go again..."  I heard someone mutter, but I ignored them.  

Gandalf appeared suddenly overheard, and I tilted my head up to look at him.  "Bilbo has some ointment that is good for scraped hands."  He said, and I shot a look at Thorin, finally pulling my hands away and standing up.

"I'll go see if I can borrow a bit of that then.  Thank you Mithrandír."  I said, nodding to Gandalf and turning away from Thorin to go find Bilbo in the crowd of Dwarves.

The Hobbit was easy to find--mostly due to the fact that he'd heard his name mentioned--and was quite willing to give me some of his ointment.

"Thank you, Bilbo."  I said gratefully, gingerly spreading the salve over the palms of my hands.  Perhaps it would be wise to find a pair of gauntlets that didn't just cover the tops of my hands.

Bilbo just nodded in reply, his gaze focused on my hair.  "Why do you wear beads in your hair--if I may ask."  He asked hesitantly, and I gave him a reassuring smile.

"Of course you may.  They are kin beads and show that I'm courting someone."  I explained, and Bilbo nodded, understanding flickering in his eyes.  

"May I have a closer look at the beads?"  He asked, motioning towards the braid in my hair.  I nodded, taking a seat on a nearby log and turning my head so that he could easily grab the beads to look at them.

Turning my braid in his hands, Bilbo murmured to himself as he looked it over with curious eyes.  "Aquamarine, blue jasper, citrine, clear quartz, garnet, howlite, lapis, moonstone, rose quartz, emerald, ruby, sapphire and opal...  Interesting."  He mumbled, and I pondered over the name of the gems he was reciting.  Some I had heard of; others I hadn't.  But why were they 'interesting'?

"MASTER BAGGINS!"  An outraged bellow sounded behind me, and both Bilbo and I jumped at the sudden noise.

Turning quickly, I saw Thorin striding towards me, dark brown hair flowing behind him as he walked swiftly.

Manwë help the Dwarrow if he was going to complain about Bilbo being too close.  I didn't have any patience for his 'possessiveness' today.

"Thorin?"  I called softly, but he blew right past me, glaring furiously down at Bilbo who inched away from him.  "What in Eru's name is your problem?"  I asked, standing up to stand beside Thorin and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"He was touching your hair."  Thorin growled, and I gaped at him in disbelief.

"Touching my hair.  You're that mad over him touching my hair?  Oh Eru, I don't believe you."  I groaned, resting my hands on my hips as Thorin turned his body towards me.  

"He was touching your courting braid!"  He said, shooting a withering scowl over at Bilbo who seemed to want the ground to swallow him whole.

"I'm sorry, she said it was okay--"

"NO!  It was NOT OKAY!"  Thorin bellowed, and something inside me snapped.  I was sick and tired of having to deal with Thorin's supposedly 'perfectly justified' outbursts.  

"What the bloody hell is your problem?!  Why do you care so much that Bilbo was touching my braid?!  By the Valar, you act as though he's doing something sacrilegious!"  I yelled, giving Thorin a harsh look.  "Bilbo wasn't doing anything wrong; he just wanted to look at the beads in my hair!"

Thorin took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.  I could see the fight visibly draining out of him, but I didn't care about that.  I was all fired up, and wasn't going to let him draw back so easily.

"Halwûna..."  He began, but I shook my head.

"NO!  Don't you sweet talk me, Master Oakenshield!"  I growled, and Thorin let out a sigh.

"Estel, in Dwarvish culture, touching someone else's hair or braids--particularly if they're courting or in a relationship of any sort--is practically a crime."

I scoffed, "well that's stupid."

A grin tugged at the corner of Thorin's mouth as he struggled to remain solemn.  "Perhaps, but we still take our hair very seriously, Amrâlimê."  He turned to look at Bilbo and nodded to him.  "I apologize deeply for yelling at you, Master Baggins.  I overreacted, and I'm deeply sorry about that."  He murmured, and I watched him in disbelief.

Oh Eru, was he ill?  Why else would he be voluntarily apologizing--quite genuinely at that--to Bilbo?

Bilbo just gave him a shaky smile, waving away his words.  "It's fine, perfectly fine..."  He stuttered, edging away from the two of us nonetheless.

Turning back to me, Thorin eyed my expression apprehensively.  "I apologize to you as well, Estel.  I forgot that you didn't know about that particular custom."  He said, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Uh huh.  Perhaps next time you'll keep that in mind before you go around yelling at people."  I said dryly, and Thorin ducked his head, laughing.

"If only Dís could see me now..."  He muttered, "she'd have a good laugh over how tightly you've got me wrapped around your finger."  

"Of course--Wait, what do you mean I have you wrapped around my little finger?  Does it mean what I think it does?"  I asked, and Thorin just smiled slyly at me.

"You'll have to figure that out for yourself, Amrâlimê."  He said, motioning for me to follow him as he turned and walked away.

Trotting after him, I quickly reached his side and looked up into his darkly bearded features.  "The gems in my beads...  Bilbo was naming them off.  Do they have some sort of meaning?"  I asked in a soft voice, and Thorin looked down at me, his expression guarded.

"Yes, they do.  The same goes for the beads you've put in my hair.  I'll explain them to you soon, alright?"  He said in voice so tender I wanted to melt like a snowball on a hot day.

"Yeah, that's fine."  I mumbled, moving closer to Thorin's side as we began to walk again.  "Perfectly fine."

Thorin laughed beside me.  "You sound like the Hobbit...  Do I scare you?"

I smirked, glancing over at the Dwarrow walking beside me.  "Not a bit, you mae loboth."  I said, and Thorin turned to look at me, confusion furrowing his brow.

"What did you call me?"  He asked, but I just shrugged, laughing.  

"That's for me to know and you to never find out, Halwûn."  I giggled, and Thorin smiled back at me, shaking his head.

"Oh Mahal, I love you..."  He said, ignoring the mutters rising behind us at our words.

They'd just have to deal with it for awhile longer; till we set up camp.  Then they could disperse and leave me and Thorin to our sweet words.

And something told me they couldn't wait for that to happen.

[darlingsdevil]

Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 4: Dreamaches

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder.

Of The Valley Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Tag list (comment to be added or removed) sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @cowboyfrazer @scarletpines @sidepuff

A/N: I promise they’ll be back in Jackson soon...

•••

Joel didn’t say much on the way back, talking about frivolous things, beating around the bush the entire time. You were looking forward to going to the lake with Joel.. you remembered how awful your last one ended. You kept your mind on the thought of a ‘date’ with Joel, rather than the inkling thought of the runner you had shot.

Of course, there was still the matter of the discussion you were meant to have with Joel. You owed Joel an explanation for your disappearance. With the way your relationship stood with him three months ago, you were certain he suspected your absence could have sprouted from that. Which was.. disheartening to say the least. Just when things had begun to finally heat up, you vanished without a trace. No wonder Joel was angry. You would be angry too.

When you arrived back at the lookout, the stew was almost done. Joel hitched the horses for you while you went inside. Ellie was playing a tune on her guitar and Tommy was listening to her song.

“You guys better not have already eaten,” You said jokingly, sitting next to Tommy while Joel came inside.

“We haven’t,” Ellie reassured.

“Good because I’m hungry.” Joel sat down next to Ellie, she scooted farther away from him slightly, Joel didn’t notice, but you did. You rose a brow at her subtly and she gently shook her head.

“Ellie’s getting real good at that guitar, Joel,” Tommy said to him.

Joel smiled and nodded.

“Course she is, only been trained by the best guitarist in Jackson,” You said, giving Joel a humorous wink.

“I see you haven’t gotten around to changing the strings yet,” Joel pointed out, looking at Ellie’s guitar.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to,” Ellie said, looking at him in confusion.

“Yeah, well, we’ll get you some new ones,” Joel replied.

“Well there’s that music store down there, I bet they got guitar stuff,” Tommy piped up. Ellie shifted uncomfortably while Tommy waited for either of the two to respond.

“I mean, that area is long overdue for a sweep anyways, and it’s a little early for dinner,” He explained.

“We can keep watch while you two head out,” You said.

“What do you say, kiddo?” Joel asked Ellie.

Ellie shrugged, “Sure,” She said.

“Okay well, I’ll be waiting outside,” Joel replied, setting out for the door. Ellie looked like she would much rather have gone with you or Tommy, but you knew it was best if she went with Joel. That talk was long overdue, something was definitely up.

“Are you sure I can’t go with one of you instead?” Ellie asked quietly, pleading with her eyes. Both you and Tommy shook your heads. Ellie sighed under her breath and followed Joel out the door. You wondered what was going on between them, but of course, it was another thing on your long list of future discussions you were dreading.

“How did you do out there?” Tommy asked as you got up to sit in Ellie’s spot across from him.

“Better than before. A little shook up still, but I’m doing better.”

“That’s good. Are you thinking about coming back to patrol? We could really use your help,” Tommy began.

“No, this is a one time thing. I think I’ll just stick to the bar job for now,” You said firmly. You weren’t on the fence about this, as good of a sniper as you are, there’s no way in hell you could do it everyday again.

“Alright. And how are things with Joel?” He questioned.

You sighed, leaning back into the couch. “I don’t know. He’s confused. He’s hurt. I don’t know what to say or what to do about any of it.”

“Just start by being around him again, you don’t have to go right back into the heavy stuff. Joel will understand,” Tommy explained calmly.

“I guess I did kind of miss him,” You confess, looking down at your shoes.

“Just don’t go avoiding him again. Or anyone for that matter. Including Ellie, she’s going through a rough patch with Joel right now,” He pointed out.

“I could tell. How bad is it? Normal teenage angst or something bigger?”

“Not too sure. Seems to have been going on for a while and it’s only been getting worse. Joel’s not too happy,” He answered. It seemed others had picked up on it too.

“I’ll talk to Ellie about it. Maybe I can get her to go easy on her old man.”

“You need to take that advice too. I know last few months haven’t been the easiest, but you can’t shut everyone out like that again. It’s only going to make people even more hurt,” Tommy lectured you. You felt your ears grow hot at his words.

“If everyone wanted to see me so badly, you or Maria could have told them where I was. It wasn’t a secret as to where I was working,” You said defensively.

“Or you could have. Maria and I don’t need to be your messengers,” Tommy replied firmly.

“And Joel never thought to ask around? Just because I wasn’t answering my door doesn’t mean I wasn’t around town,” You scoffed. It was harder to control your moods these days, especially since what Tommy had said was barely offensive. You could easily pretend you were fine, irritability was the hard part. You knew you were overreacting, you just couldn’t help yourself.

“From my understanding of it, he didn’t want to impose, wanted you to come to him,” Tommy said, voice with much less bite. That made a hell of a lot more sense. It made sense why he wouldn’t have sought you out, he was waiting for you to bring it up first. You had nearly forgotten about what had happened with him, no wonder he was so angry.

You sighed deeply, Tommy was right, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”

“It’s alright. I know last few months haven’t been too kind to you either.”

•••

When Joel and Ellie made it back to the lookout, you could tell something was up. Ellie avoided Joel the second they stepped in and Joel looked visibly grumpier. Maybe it was a mistake to let them go out on their own.

Regardless, the stew was completely done. Tommy found clean bowls and some silverware, you set the table while Joel sat quietly at the island counter. He was clearly in deep thought. Ellie was off somewhere in one of the rooms, probably listening to her Walkman. Mark had some old Walkman tapes that he had collected over the years that you had been meaning to give to her, just like the records. Mark’s old Walkman broke a long time ago anyways, that’s why he switched to vinyl.

“Will you go tell Ellie it’s time for dinner?” Joel asked you, his voice much softer.

You nodded your head and went towards the room she always chose at this lookout, and sure enough you could hear the faint sound of music on the other side. You knocked gently on it. No response. You knocked louder this time.

“What?” Ellie called out.

“Can I come in?”

Ellie was hesitant but agreed. You opened up the to her room. She was sitting up on the bed, staring at you.

“We’re about to start eating, you gonna join us?” You asked her.

“No, I’m not really hungry,” She attempted to play it off. Ellie gently set her Walkman down next to her, clicking it off.

“You don’t have to eat with them if you don’t want to. I can bring some stew up here and eat with you if you would like.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but I think I want to be alone right now,” Ellie replied dimly. Her room was practically radiating a depressive gloom, much like your own, curtains drawn and lights off.

“Okay, that’s fair. Let me know if you change your mind.” You shut the door behind you, walking back over to Joel and Tommy.

“She’s not eating?” Joel asked you as he sat down at the dinner table.

You shook your head nonchalantly, sitting down next to Joel. Tommy brought over the stew and set down three bowls. God, you were hungry. You felt like you could eat the entire pot.

“How was your trip with Ellie?” You said to Joel, attempting to make small talk.

“Fine,” He replied curtly. You and Tommy shared a look.

Dinner was pleasant enough, you mostly only talked with Tommy, mentioning the weather, the newcomers in town with a baby, the upcoming fall dance, the new renovations to Cork street. Simple things.

The sun was setting to the west, the orange rays of light casting into the many windows of the lookout, you could see the lights in Jackson begin to come on. You were not looking forward to spending the night outside of Jackson, or around other people for that matter. Joel retired to his room for the night while you and Tommy watched a movie on the TV. You weren’t too sure what was happening in it since it was a sequel and you had never seen the first, but it was a good distraction, at least for a little while.

Soon enough though, it had gotten fully dark and you were bone tired. You still had to go out tomorrow to pick off the rest of the infected you had missed from the first nest, and then you would be back home. You made a checklist of all the things you would have to do when you returned home, a long list of talking with people you had avoided and talking about things you didn’t want to talk about, but needed to.

You stayed up a little while longer than him, thinking about everything you tried not to. Joel. Three months ago. Mark. Being outside the wall. Practically everything.

Only Ellie managed to pull you out of your thoughts as she quietly tiptoed to the kitchen, hoping not to alert you. But unfortunately, Ellie wasn’t particularly quiet.

“Care to sit with me?” You called out. You heard Ellie lightly gasp.

“Shit,” She muttered under her breath.

“You might be able to sneak by Joel or Tommy, but I thought you knew better than that.”

“Sorry. I didn’t want to scare you,” Ellie said. You knew she was lying.

“Okay well, sit with me for a little bit,” You suggested, looking over your shoulder to her.

“Let me get some food first.” She rummaged through the cabinets to find a bowl for a few seconds, when she found it she took the leftovers out of the fridge and poured some into her bowl. She walked over to you and sat down on the couch.

“What’s going on with you and Joel?” You looked at her. Her eyes widened and she looked down at the ground.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” You continued. Ellie began eating her stew slowly.

“Nothing that you need to be worried about.”

Oh boy.

“You can talk to me, Ellie,” You told her, hoping it would get her to open up.

“Look, I know you mean well. I just don’t want to talk about what’s going on.” She looked up at you. You were taken aback, Ellie was usually always open with you.

“Joel’s upset too. You don’t have to tell me what’s happening, I just want you to talk to him and let him know what’s going on so he can fix it,” You explained.

“I’ll talk when you talk to him,” Ellie said seriously.

“What?”

“You dodged him and I, for months. You don’t get off so easily when I have to tell him about my feelings and all that bullshit and you don’t,” Ellie replied angrily. She was betrayed too. Suddenly, you were beginning to realize the depth of how many people you abandoned.

“I guess that’s fair.” Your voice was quiet.

“I’m going back to my room. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight,” Ellie said swiftly, returning to her room.

There was a pit in your chest, not only had you cut yourself off from the support you so desperately needed, you cut out others too. Others that needed you just as much as you needed them. And now you were paying the price for it.

•••

Sleep didn’t come easily. Tommy and Joel were in their respective rooms while you were in yours. Your room was the closest to Joel’s and shared a bathroom with him.

Sleep never came easily. At least not recently. You forgot what it felt like to see the moon, having the curtains nearly almost always closed to drown out the rest of the world, it was a fresh reminder of how breathtaking the world could be. Your window was wide open, the crisp autumn air felt wonderful on your lungs. The mixture of leaves and fresh air was something that managed to calm your nerves no matter the circumstances. The air was entirely different than Jackson, Jackson was crowded, always smelt like a city. But out here, there was nothing more than the sweet smell of nature that wafted through your window. And for a moment, your worries drifted away. There was no Mark, there was no Joel, there was no Ellie. You weren’t even sure you existed in that moment, you felt detached but you did not know of it. There was nothing. There was only nature. Only the wind in the dying leaves that rustled through the trees and the eventual rebirth of Mother Nature herself. Life would be okay.

•••

There were no nightmares. No running for your life from someone you couldn’t see. The haunting memories. There was nothing. Not even a dream. The first time in a long time there was nothing. It was surprisingly peaceful.. until you started feeling sick.

You awoke to the rising sun in your window, feeling peaceful until you felt your stomach toss and turn. It was common for you to feel nauseous in the morning, sometimes later in the day too. Your nightmares and panic attacks being so frightful, they caused you to feel sick to your stomach.

You rushed to the bathroom and sat down on the tile. There was no running water, something you missed so dearly. Only a trash can.

Your stomach was flipping, you groaned in pain and leaned against the bathtub, resting your hand on your stomach.

Maybe it was the stew. It wasn’t uncommon to get sick from 25 years expired cans of food, but no one else had gotten sick. Maybe you just had the stomach flu, working in a bar made it a hotspot for illness.

It wasn’t just the stomach pains, you had a dull headache too. Perhaps you were getting sick, but then again you hadn’t gotten sick in years. It could have been the food too, but you didn’t feel ill at all last night.

You tried to focus your breathing while you looked around the bathroom. It was clean enough. Not anything particularly special. There was a sink, a toilet, a shower. Some soap, some tampons.

Tampons.

How long had it been since you have had your period? You were so caught up in everything, you had forgotten to keep track of these things. And feeling ill in the morning? Increased appetite? Mood swings?

Shit.

•••