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nevadancitizen · 3 months

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-> CH. 1: A SILENT DOG & STILL WATERS

synopsis: the soviet union has been producing robots for a long time based on a miracle compound: polymer. but that was invented in 1941. the current year is 2038, and, due to rising tensions in the arctic, americans aren't as kind to soviets as they once were. it's too bad you're a russki, and it's really too bad that you work in cybersecurity. and honestly, with the case fowler has put you on, you're at risk of losing your job. it doesn't help that you're stuck with lieutenant hank anderson and some new android apparently called connor.

word count: 2.6k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: based on an au i literally had a dream about. it's basically d:bh with elements of atomic heart :P this ch. is half exposition and half hank being an alcoholic lolololol

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

The Soviet Union had always been very good at spying on and stealing American technology. They did so with the atomic bomb, the B-29 superfortress, and the space shuttle – with no lack of effort on America’s side of trying to keep them secret.

But one thing set the USSR above the rest: polymer. A miracle compound that formed the backbone for every technological evolution that came after. It mimics a human neuron, including its ability to interpret input signals. With tinkering from top Soviet scientists (and a whole lot of luck), a gigantic neural network was established, the maximum computing power of which was orders of magnitude higher than the power of a conventional network.

With polymer, the Soviets reigned supreme as the only real international superpower. The other countries could play at being powerful, but the USSR was top dog – and she wasn’t keen on letting the others forget.

But that was in the past. And the past is boring. That was in 1941, and something you learn about in history class. Polymer is now regularly sold and traded and built upon and shared. After the Cold War ended, it was expanded outwards and is no longer a precious commodity. It was even needed to build a modern technology – androids. Ones that could pass the Turing test, unlike the TER-A1 Tereshkova (which was a human-looking robot, sure, but one that had an unsettling, unmoving mask for a face).

And androids are simply better than Soviet bots. They’re versatile and able to be mass-produced without specialization development. They’re not big and clunky like the chimpanzee-esque MA-9 Belyash and can still accomplish the same installation, plumbing, and welding work. They can do the same agricultural work an ARU-31/6 Rotorobot can do without the risk of accidentally endangering humans while in use.

Again, they’re simply better. In the current year of 2038, American androids just trump similar Soviet tech in every way.

But that doesn’t mean that the Soviets aren’t still trying. They’ve invaded the Arctic with intent to claim the land, heavy with NA-T256 Natasha bots and the claim that the “heavy-duty ground-based loader bots can squeeze up to five liters of blood from a human body in under twenty seconds,” as a deterrent to American forces.

And this action has made your workplace a hell away from home.

Even though you immigrated from Chelomey, Russia to Detroit, Michigan in 2027, before all this business went down, people still eyed you warily – like you secretly enjoyed living under communism and the ever-watching eye of the Kremlin. Like you were just itching to get your grubby little paws on American secrets so you could report them to Comrade Molotov and a beautiful girl back home called Katya. Yeah, right.

These small, under-the-breath and glance-of-the-eye accusations weren’t helped by your current occupation: as a screen jockey for the Head of Cybersecurity of the Detroit Police. They acted like you hadn’t worked just as hard as everyone else for your position – for your polymer glove and the privileges that came with it.

Polymer gloves have come a long way from their prototype in 1955. They’re a single fingerless glove – one glove, as a person doesn’t need two – with an adjustable wrist strap. In the middle of the palm is a small silver star that can retract to expose prehensile, tentacle-like wires that can interface with terminals and other technology.

But it doesn’t stop there – with a single gesture (holding your hand out and making an “L” shape) the glove can scan the surroundings of the user. Paired with an artificial polymer retina, the user can have information about the environment that they otherwise wouldn’t have.

And, of course, you’re outfitted with the top versions of both – on the precinct’s credit card, obviously.

But, again, you’re just a screen jockey. One of the best, but still just a worker bee that reports to a higher-up. There’s little to no interaction with the other departments, as cybersecurity is mostly isolated without any related crimes. Maybe cyberterrorism, but cases of that are few and far between.

And you thought that’s all you’d ever be until you heard Fowler’s bellowing voice call your last name.

When you pop your head up from behind your terminal, you see him standing halfway through the glass door to his office. You swallow and trot over, a nervous idea tickling the back of your mind. Is he mad? Did you do something wrong? Shit… did you accidentally leak something?

You push open Fowler’s door and slowly shut it behind you. He’s sitting behind his desk, stark against the blue-grey backdrop of the wall behind him. His constantly furrowed brow and permanent frown lighten a little when he sees you.

You fold your hands behind your back politely. “Yes, sir?”

Fowler gestures to the seat in front of his desk. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. You definitely did something wrong.

You walk over and sit in the chair. It screeches with a horrible sound.

You lean back in the chair and cross your arms. “What is this about, sir?”

Fowler leans back in his chair and drags a hand down his face. Immediately, the worst things pop into your head. You fight the urge to worry your bottom lip.

“You have experience with androids, yes?” Fowler asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question – rather, a statement.

“Yes, sir.” You nod.

“And you have experience with Lieutenant Hank Anderson?”

Your eyebrows furrow a little, but you still nod. “Yes, sir.”

Fowler turns to his terminal. “How do you feel about him?”

You bite your bottom lip as you think, then let it slip from your teeth. “I don’t know what you want me to say. He’s my friend. He is still a valuable member of the force, even if he has presented a few problems in the past couple of years.”

Fowler laughs. “A few?”

“Ah…” You smile, but it’s a bit forced. “More than a few. A lot. More problems than solutions, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s just how it goes sometimes.” He shrugs and sighs. “Do you know about the new case he’s been assigned?”

“Yes, sir,” you say. “He won’t shut up about it.”

He hums and leans forward, resting his chin on folded hands. “Always one for discretion, that one.”

You duck your head, instead looking down at your lap. “Yeah. But I think he can do better – be the cop he was before.”

“An optimistic Soviet.” Fowler laughs lowly. “That’s a new one.”

You just clench your jaw and meet his eyes. “What is this about? If you’ve called me in just to poke fun at me and gossip about Hank, I’d like to go back to my desk. Uh, sir.”

“No, no.” He holds a hand up. “Tell me what you’ve heard about Hank’s case.”

You think for a second. “Deviant androids murdering their owners. It sounds like it would’ve been labeled self-defense if it was a human-on-human crime, but…” you shrug. “I’m not in Homicide. I’m in Cybersecurity.”

“Well, you’re getting some experience.” Fowler pulls a cord from his terminal, one you recognize as a port compatible with a polymer glove. “You’re on the case.”

“I’m on the case?!” You repeat in disbelief. “Sir, I – I don’t –”

He holds up a hand for the second time. “I don’t want to hear it. You’re the best screen jockey with the most field experience I can spare.”

He gestures with the cord still in his hand. “Now, c’mon. Jack in and download the files.”

You swallow your objections and outstretch your gloved left hand. The thin metal of the star retracts, and the prehensile wires extend towards the port, waving like blades of grass. The ends of all six find their homes in the port, still wiggling like black tapeworms.

Documents appear in the corner of your eye, one after another, like pop-up ads. You blink hard to dismiss them, then disconnect.

Fowler feeds the cord back into his terminal, then leans back in his chair.

He looks over at you. “What’s that one saying you Soviets say? Something about champagne.”

You look up at him, then down to your glove. The star retracts, then goes back to its original position, like it was winking at you. “He who doesn’t take risks won’t drink champagne.”

“Well, I hope you have a taste for harder liquor,” Fowler says. “Hank’s at having a drink somewhere nearby. Go find him.”

And Lord, did you know right where to find Hank.

On the door to Jimmy’s Bar is a firm warning, reading: NO ANDROIDS ALLOWED – OWNERS WILL BE PROSECUTED. You just hope that they don’t extend the same kindness to russkis.

When you open the door, everyone in the bar turns to look at you. You nod and, once they see who you are, turn back to their conversations or nursing their drinks.

You spot Hank at the bar with what looks like a Tennessee whiskey. You sidle up onto the barstool next to him, easing into the creaky seat. As you drape your rain-speckled coat on the back of the chair, you glance at the clock on the wall. It reads just before twenty past eleven.

“Bartender?” You call. Your thick accent immediately catches his attention, and so does the money you slide onto the bartop. “Vodka, please.”

The bartender, presumably Jimmy, picks up a bottle of Stolichnaya from the shelving behind him. “This good?”

You nod. “More than good.”

He pours vodka into a tumbler glass, then pushes it across the bar. You accept it readily, and the tiny sip you take gives your throat a nice burn on the way down.

“A Soviet and vodka,” Hank mumbles against the lip of his glass. “Like a moth to a flame.”

“It’s what my mother served with dinner,” you say. “I’m just glad Jimmy’s got enough sense not to keep us from his bar.”

Hank chuckles and raises his glass to that.

“Fowler’s gone beyond the pale.” You sip at your drink. “Have you heard?”

“Yup.” He sighs, setting his drink on the bartop harder than necessary. “Don’t know why a kid like you has business with an old timer like me.”

“Oh, believe me,” you say, your voice heavy with sarcasm. “It’s nice to visit, but it’s better to be home. I don’t know what he’s thinking. A Cybersecurity worker partnering up with someone in Homicide? Next, we’ll have androids doing our thinking and philosophy instead of our laundry and dishes.”

Hank snorts into his drink. “Hell, with all these runaways? They might as well be.”

“I mean, I can see his line of thinking.” You swirl the vodka in your glass, watching the way it catches and reflects the low light of the bar. “Cybersecurity, androids… makes sense, but me? A russki? With all that’s happening in the Arctic? If we don’t do well, my job is on the line.”

Hank sips his whiskey. “It really sounds like Fowler’s settin’ you up to fail.”

“Setting us both up to fail.” You correct and mirror him, sipping at your vodka.

The sound of the door opening and the rain outside cuts into your conversation. Nothing you’d usually take a glance at, but what puts you off is the sudden silence of the bar. Bars shouldn’t be silent – especially not Jimmy’s.

You look over your left shoulder and see a nice looking man that’s just walked through the door. He looks a bit dorky, sure, and a bit like a lost puppy dog, but that could look nice on certain guys. And the asymmetrical tuft of loose hair that’s escaped his hair gel looks –

There’s a blue triangle just above where his left breast pocket would be. On the other side of his blazer reads RK800 in even, white text. He’s an android, not a man. He meets your gaze and you inhale sharply.

Your eyes return to your drink, and so does Hank’s. This isn’t what you want to deal with right now – or ever, actually. It’s Jimmy’s establishment, so it’s Jimmy’s problem.

But still, as soon as the android saw you, he started making a beeline for you. His footsteps are quick, measured, and even.

“Excuse me,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder. He addresses you by your title, and your gut clenches.

“No.” You try to wave him off. “No English. Sorry.”

“Officer, you passed each of your TestEaFL’s with flying colors,” he says, narrowing his eyes a little. “You can speak English perfectly fine.”

You cringe a little, but then a thought strikes you – how would this android have access to the scores of your Test of English as a Foreign Language? But before you can ask, he’s turned to Hank and started speaking.

“Oh, Lieutenant Anderson.” He moves so that he’s standing beside Hank. “Just the other person I was looking for.”

He glances between the two of you. “My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by CyberLife. Captain Fowler said that you were both having a drink nearby. I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar.”

You snort and your eyebrows shoot up. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that there was a hint of… something other than monotone indifference in his voice.

“What do you want?” Hank grinds out.

“You were assigned a case early this evening. A homicide, involving a CyberLife android.” Connor glances at you, like he’s reminding you that you were also assigned this case. “In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.”

“Well, I don’t need any assistance.” Hank jabs a thumb at you. “I’ve got all the unwanted assistance I need right here, and I don’t need any more. ‘Specially not from a plastic asshole like you. So just be a good lil’ robot and get the fuck outta here.”

“He’s right,” you chime. “And it doesn’t really look good to have androids investigating androids. What if you snap, too?”

“I will not.” Connor meets your eyes, and you can almost see the switch flick in that little android brain. Great, now it’s your turn to be grilled.

He circles so that he’s standing beside you and leans down a little, putting his hand on the bartop. You keep your eyes down, firmly on your drink.

“I’m sorry, Officer, Lieutenant, but I must insist,” he says. “My instructions stipulate that I have to accompany both of you.”

“You know where you can stick your instructions?” Hank chimes in with a throaty laugh.

You glance over at Connor, who looks thoroughly confused. You smile and bring the glass to your lips.

“No,” Connor says. “Where?”

Your throat seizes around the sip of vodka you were trying to take, causing you to cough it out as you try to suppress your laughter. You slam down the glass (effectively spilling most of it) and bring a hand to your chest, trying to ride it out as Hank pats your back.

“чёрт возьми!” You wheeze, your voice hoarse. Your chest burns. “Oh, fuck.”

You wipe your eyes as the burn dulls, still coughing slightly. Connor purses his lips before coming to a conclusion.

“You know what?” He offers. “I’ll buy you both one for the road.”

“You better,” you say. “You made me spill mine.”

“Bartender!” Connor calls, and slips money onto the bartop. “The same again, please.”

“See that, Jim?” Hank says. “Wonders of technology. Make it a double.”

Jimmy pours a healthy amount of Jack Daniels into Hank’s glass, and starts to pour Stolichnaya into yours. You cut him halfway with a raised hand and a “Someone’s gotta drive us home safe.”

You knock back your drink, then let out a low whistle at the nice burn. Hank follows soon after and sighs heavily.

He leans back and looks over at Connor. “Did you say homicide?”

#riptide writes 🌊#head of false security #dbh connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #rk800 x reader #connor x reader #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh connor x you #connor rk800 x you #rk800 x you #connor x you #dbh x you #detroit become human x you #connor rk800

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kookslastbutton · 1 year

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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m)┃ch. IV

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,174

Warnings: 8-year age gap, professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), jungkook snaps, lots of family drama, mommy issues, oc being accommodating, fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues but trying to be good hubby, jk gives oc more hope!

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+

A/N: this week's flashback hint–nothing like a little dilf rivalry! Also, this chapter gives more of a reason why jk is adverse to parenthood 😶 My closing notes offer some explanations. Let's go! 💞

<< ch. III ༓ ch. V >> | series masterlist

For the first 22 years of your life, you had zero partners.

Most people labeled you as being jaded, stuck up, or having too high of standards for it. But fuck it. Why couldn’t anyone accept that you weren’t about to settle down with the first interested guy just 'cause of peer pressure?

Of course, you'd likely end up with someone eventually. You have gone out on a couple of dates before. Yet they were never that promising. The men, or excuse you, boys roughly your age did nothing to woo you. They just wanted a late-night fuck at 1 a.m. or a nice, cute girl to take home to their mom.

Not that you gave a hell what others were into or anything, but you had other agendas. Getting married and birthing children before kick-starting your adult life was not in your playbook. Neither was jumping into bed with random guys every week.

So you haven't had much luck in the romance department. Good riddance to it!

What you were waiting for was a gentleman. Someone that was responsible, mature, and experienced. Bonus points if they were into the arts. But it was rare to find a suitor of such quality–who wasn't ridiculously off-limits that is. Obviously, some other strong-willed man or woman sunk their claws in before you got the chance. Drats.

4 years ago

“I can’t believe you,” your best friend giggles. “You’re going to that fancy new art exhibit downtown just to run into Dr. Kim! You’re so shameless __.”

You roll your eyes and stick your plate in the dishwasher. You’re best friend Na-Rae has been one of your closest friends since your second year of undergrad. Now into your third year of friendship, you consider her as close as a sister.

Unlike you, Na-Rae is utterly fascinated with all things STEM-related. She’s currently in med school aiming to become a surgeon, which is one of the many reasons why you and her are currently roommates.

“I’m telling you one more time, I’m not going for him. I actually want to see the paintings which should come as no surprise to you. Dr. Kim just happens to be going too.”

Na-Rae leans against the kitchen island, tongue in cheek. “If that’s what you wanna tell yourself, babe. But how, may I ask, did you know he’d be there? Are you stalking him online now?”

“Of course not. I’m not a creep Na-Rae.” You throw her a dirty look. Honestly, she really thinks you’re some obsessed fangirl. Like yes, Dr. Kim is really hot for an older guy, and the fact that he’s basically the second dean of the art department? He may or may not visit you in your dreams. Especially after studying for Dr. Jeon’s fifteen million econ exams.

Now there’s a guy who definitely knows how to stick it to you.

“Besides,” you continue. “Dr. Kim doesn’t have social media.” You don’t notice how contradictory that statement sounds until your best friend lets out a sinister cackle.

“Looked him up did you?” She hits your arm, wiggling her eyebrows tauntingly. “I knew it! I knew you were stalking him!”

“I–I am not! Stop that!” You ignore her looks, seeing it best to avoid eye contact altogether.

"Iovmererdhimalkingintheallway."

"C'mon, you know I can't understand that. You did what?"

"I over…heardhimalkingintheallway," you repeat, skirting most of the sentence again.

"For the love of might __! Why are you being so–"

"I overheard him talking in the hallway!" Once you blurt the words out you scurry out of the kitchen. "Gotta get my laundry, bye!"

"Uh-__!" Na-Rae races to catch up to you. "Explain to me how that's not being stalkerish!"

You grab your laundry basket and set it next to the dryer. "It wasn't intentional alright? I happened to be passing by at the right moment." You pop the door open, stuffing your clothes in the basket. Na-Rae casually watches you from the doorway.

"Right," she says. "Just happened to overhear Dr. Kim's whereabouts on a Friday night and just happen to be going to the same place. But definitely not planned because the dress you're currently trying to hide from me isn't meant for him to coincidentally see. Oops, my bad."

You release said dress from your hand aggressively. "Dr. Kim is at least a decade older than me and he's a high-level faculty member of the university. I'm not seriously trying to present myself to him in any romantic sense. That would be so inappropriate! And as far as the dress goes, it's the grand opening tonight. Everyone's wearing these kinds of things. So no, you're wrong."

"Very well, if the lady persists," Na-Rae shrugs, checking her phone. "Shoot, I gotta get to work in fifteen but I expect a full report later!" You watch as she hustles to her room.

The exhibit's doors open at 7 pm sharp. The line to the entrance runs about three blocks which is far longer than you were expecting. Most people came in groups or pairs, making you wish Na-Rae didn't have to work tonight.

But you're right about this being a formal affair. Everyone is dressed to kill. Some lean more towards black tie while others choose to show off their highly expressive, avant-garde nature.

You look down at yourself, suddenly feeling quite underdressed. You're wearing a simple black dress that's cinched at the waist. If one were to look close enough they'd see hints of gold throughout but no one would get that close.

The artwork itself is stunning. Varying from abstraction to impressionism, you get a sense of pleasure in taking in others’ inspiration. Many of these works are from locals in the area which is one of the main reasons for the number of interested guests. You wonder if anyone here knows the artists directly.

You make your way to the next set of pieces, studying the first in line. You immediately recognize the particular style as post-impressionism. It's clear the artist has great influence by Van Gogh evident from the similar large yet controlled strokes.

As you continue observing the work you feel a second body, looming close beside you. Naturally, you shift your eyes over to see the source. His hair brushes past his face as he leans closer to the painting.

After about three seconds you quickly dart your eyes away, careful not to stare. The man appears to be equally as focused on the work in front of him, as you were. It'd be a bit embarrassing if he noticed your gaze and snapped at you for it.

The man next to you slowly straightens his bent-over posture. He moves to the other side of you, viewing the next painting on your right. You barely catch the slight glance he gives you in the process, now able to see his full face.

It's not Dr. Kim–it's Dr. Jeon.

This isn't weird, you try convincing yourself. It's perfectly normal for you to see your professor in public. Besides, who knows if he actually recognized you yet. No need to make this awkward if you simply pretend not to notice him.

You think about whether to sneakily slip away or continue to feign ignorance until…

"Are we going to keep side-eyeing each other or can I say hi?" Dr. Jeon lightly smiles at you with playful eyes. His glasses are different today–thinner design. And oh, is that a...lip ring? Is that new or has he always had it? You don't remember seeing it before. "If you keep staring at my lips like that I might get shy."

"Ahha, Dr. Jeon!" You fight the stirring of your nerves. "Hi! Sorry, I didn't mean to stare or anything. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Please, __. Outside of class, Jungkook is fine. Though I understand if that's a little out of place for you."

A little?! You've been calling Dr. Jeon, well, Dr. Jeon for the past two weeks. It's unlikely that will change. "If it's alright with you," you start, hands restless. "I'd like to stick with the usual."

Jungkook nods, giving you a brief once-over before replying. "Sure, no problem. I'm hoping you'll warm up to the idea though. Dr. Jeon makes me feel old." He lets out a throaty chuckle. "I'd ask what brings you to this art exhibit but I think I have the answer, given the amount of sketches I see you doing while I'm lecturing."

Oh god. Your professor calling you out for both gawking at his lips and doodling in class under the span of five minutes? You've never wanted to disappear more. The sketches you do aren't meant to look like a distraction and honestly, you didn't mean to gawk at the tiny ring, it was just there!

"Sorry," he continues. "That wasn't intended to be passive-aggressive. I really don't mind as long as they don't hinder your learning. Dr. Kim does the same thing whenever I'm talking to him too. I've summed it up to an itch all you artists have. I've come here in support of him actually." He gestures to the collection of paintings next to you; the post-impressionism ones you were intent on studying earlier.

"Oh wow," you gasp stupidly, following his gesture. You didn't even clue in to read the artist's name.

Stigma by Kim Taehyung.

"I had no idea Dr. Kim had some of his work displayed here. I feel so foolish. I was viewing his pieces for I don't know how long just a few minutes ago."

You were sure Dr. Kim was attending the exhibit for the same reasons as you. But while it was partially right, you obviously missed the biggest point.

"Don't fret," a deep, honey-coated voice comes from nowhere. "Any admirer of my work is a friend of mine." He strolls up to your left, Jungkook still on your right. "I don't believe we've met yet. Dr. Kim Taehyung." He tosses a hand out for you to shake.

Oh no, no no no. You hope to death you won't start sweating. You've never been this close to Kim Taehyung before and he wants you to hold his hand! "Pleasure to meet you Dr. Kim. I'm __," you say, struggling not to burst inside.

Okay, so it's not exactly holding hands but it's close enough. His fingers are so long and elegant. You can't wipe the grin off your face.

You're squeezing it now, stop stop stop. You mentally slap yourself and retract your hand as naturally as you can. Thank fuck no one can read your mind.

"I'm sorry your name is __?" Dr. Kim freezes as if suddenly needing to remember something. When you think he's recalled whatever it is he needs, he flicks his head over to Jungkook with a twinkle in his eye. "__," he repeats aloud.

"Uhm, yes..." You're definitely missing something. You look between the two men, apparently both intent on keeping you in omnious silence. What's so facinating about your name?

Taehyung whips his head back to face you, flashing a blinding grin. "You're the little artist in Jungkook's class aren't you?"

That's what this is about? He looks far too proud of himself for connecting those dots.

"Yeah I take ECON 602 with Dr. Jeon." You make the mistake of looking at Jungkook mid-sentence. For some odd reason, his previous mirthful expression has changed to one of bitter distaste.

"She isn't little," Jungkook intrudes, nearly snapping at the older man. "Little is what you call a child and it's inappropriate for you to call her that."

What the hell....? How is Dr. Kim calling you little bothering your professor more than you?

"My apologies," Taehyung says. "But she's your student, right? The one drawing during your lectures? I think she drew you once. Exquisite may I add. You captured his pissed-off look so well." He gives you a pleased look but you're too sheepish to form a reply.

"Yes, I wasn't having the best day. Can I talk to you a moment Dr. Kim? We'll be right back __, just a second." Jungkook grabs the older's arm, yanking him out of your earshot.

"What the hell are you doing, Taehyung?" Jungkook spits. "You're making my student uncomfortable."

"Aha, so she is the artist. Look I admit that using the term little was a misstep but I think she's alright. I apologized didn't I?"

"Yeah sure, but she's not alright." He makes air quotes. "Since you've also made it seem like anything she does in my class, I spill to you! Don't you see how uneasy that would make someone feel? Especially me being her professor. She could be thinking I tell you weird things too! See what you've done?!"

"But Jungkook," Taehyung drawls, face scrunching. He's not sure what's gotten Jungkook so worked up. "You do in fact regurgitate everything to me. You've been talking about her for the last week just to one-up me that she's an artist. Now I get to have a face to the name. I'm kinda tickled about it but also, what weird things are you referring to?" Taehyung pauses, eyes going as big as a saucer. "Oh my god, bro. Are you–"

Jungkook grunts firmly, shutting the man up at once. "Absolutely not Tae. Whatever you were about to say, it couldn't be a bigger no. All I'm asking is for you to keep the private things private. I don't want you blubbering everything to her."

"Very well," Taehyung hums, stealing a glance at you behind Jungkook's shoulder. From where he stood, he had an easy view of you moving down the line of paintings. You stop in front of each one, curiously examining them the best you can. "However, she's quite intriguing. I can't make any promises that I'll hold myself back."

"You better be talking about her mutual interest in art. She's my student and we have an obligation through the university not to fraternize with any–"

"Yes yes, your student. I don't need a reminder of where my boundaries are, but perhaps you do....bringing up fraternizing and all." Taehyung moves past Jungkook, striding back over to you. "Whatever else can there be besides professional or academic affairs? Of course, we're keeping our witts about us Kookie."

Behind him, Jungkook huffs and follows his lead. Then wipe that stupid smirk off your face, he thinks.

Present

Dinner is rough.

Jungkook's parents showing up unannounced and uninvited throws you both in a very quick, downward spiral. How can two people have so much time on their hands? Retirement, that's how.

You try your hardest to keep the conversation light throughout dinner, but it's obvious the air has grown thick between your husband and his mother.

"Why didn't you come to the reunion last year?" your mother-in-law presses for the second time tonight. She clutches the napkin in her hand, anxious for his response.

Jungkook sits across the table. His posture stiffens at the question. "I'm sorry, I had a lot to do. The reunion is always so close to when I have to go back to the university that I just didn't have the time."

A loud, impatient sigh comes from back across the table. "You didn't have the time or didn't make it? Honesty Jungkook, you expect me to believe that?"

When Jungkook doesn't answer, you and your father-in-law exchange troublesome looks. "Honey," Mr. Jeon speaks up, placing a hand on her shaky one. "You know how full the school year is for Jungkook. Don't blame him. Maybe he can come this year if we reschedule for a more convenient time." He pleads with his son, hopeful eyes.

"Stop helping him." She looks at Mr. Jeon and then back to Jungkook. "I don't think I'm asking for a lot. I just want you there, you and __."

At that, you find yourself gripping your husband's arm from under the table. Jungkook shifts in his seat and stares dead straight into his mother's eyes. "Funny you say that," he seethes. You tug on his arm in desperation to calm him. "Seeing that you keep dropping by at random times throughout the year, I'd say you expect a great deal from us."

Mrs. Jeon immediately snatches her hand from your father-in-law's. "Maybe I wouldn't have to if you'd come to the reunion. Or called, texted, or even emailed at this point. If it weren't for my efforts, I wouldn't hear from you at all."

"Please," Mr. Jeon pleads again, this time to both parties. "We're having dinner. Let's continue this later." He reaches for the bowl in the middle of the table but he's quickly ignored.

"You're right." Jungkook cuts. "Maybe I should come. Because it's one more way you can get what you want, isn't it? All those years of hard work so you can show me off to everyone."

"Don't you talk to me like that," Mrs. Jeon grits. "If I wanted to show you off it'll be when you give me a grandchild! I'm lucky to even have a daughter-in-law by now."

Chair legs scrape against the hardwood floor and your arm snakes out from Jungkook's arm. Your husband stands at the table, Mr. Jeon follows suit. "Okay, okay, let's just–"

"Dad," Jungkook interrupts. "Can you please take Mom home for the night?"

"Are you okay?" you pop the question once your in-laws leave for the night, a queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Mrs. Jeon looked completely bewildered, whereas Mr. Jeon looked deeply troubled; conflicted between wife and son. You have a feeling he has a better understanding of what happened than you do right now.

"I wish she hadn't come today," Jungkook plops on the bed. You sit beside him. "I'm sorry about what she said about you....I knew she was here for something."

You won't lie. When Mrs. Jeon mentioned being lucky to finally have a daughter-in-law, it stung. You detest being seen as an achievement. "I'm sure she didn't mean it like that since she said it out of impulse. It was a tense moment," you say. "As far as what she was getting at though, it was for you to go to the reunion."

"No." He shakes his head and then glances at you. "It's not about the reunion. She only wants me to go so she can show everyone how smart and successful her son has become–all her doing of course. It's been like that since high school. And she wants you to go for a similar reason."

"I knew your mom had a bit of a thing for status but I thought that mostly revolved around her profession. Also, when she was talking earlier about you not keeping in touch she seemed more hurt and sad than mad. I think she really just wants you there."

"If she seemed hurt it's because she didn't get her way," Jungkook says, nonchalant.

"Jungkook."

"I'm sorry but it's true" He adjusts his position, angling himself to face you. "Mom's used to calling the shots– at work, at home, even with our neighbors growing up. You've seen how dad is around her. Yeah, he pushes back a little but at the end of the day, he does what's asked of him."

Frightened to ask the next question, you swallow hard. "What aren't you telling me Jungkook?"

He gently takes your hand from your lap, rubbing small circles on the knuckles. "Growing up, she was hardly around or involved in my brother and I's life. Most weeks, she and Dad would be at work, and we'd be with a babysitter or nanny. Dad did what he could to take care of us but Mom? All she would do is prune us to be just like her...smart, successful, and a dash more to make up for all the achievements she couldn't make."

"Jungkook...I don't know what to say," you murmur, trying to take everything in. "But your PhD–"

"My decision but her influence. Though she wasn't pleased when I said I'd be relocating ten hours away."

You remember him telling you this part before. His mother had a hard time coping with his reluctance to stay nearby. Maybe she did want him to follow in her footsteps. "Your brother didn't have as much pressure on him did he?"

"He did, but he still bends to her will. Except for the grandchildren part." Jungkook grimaces, averting eye contact. "I guess we have that in common."

"Hey," you urge him to lift his head. "Please don't feel bad about telling me any of this. If your picture of parents has largely been their absence and desire for self-fulfillment, then I understand your grounds for not wanting children. And as far as tonight with your mom, I'm so sorry. I feel like it's partially my fault for agreeing to host them for two days."

A pair of soft eyes rest on you in the dim room. The sun was near set now and all the light previously shining into the room had come from the window. If this wasn't a serious moment you might take a candid shot of your husband.

"You're the best thing that's happened to me __," Jungkook coos. "Don't ever think your kindness is a fault." He pauses then continues. "I still want both my parents in my life but I need to draw boundaries or I will completely snap and that's not something I want to happen. Especially since we have a possible baby to make one day."

"Hu–huh?" It's the repetition of the last sentence that makes you utterly dumbfounded.

Baby? Baby with Jungkook. One day?

Your husband draws his hand up to barely caress your cheek. "Why does that always seem to stop your heart?"

You catch his wrist mid-movement and throw yourself into him. Your arms link around his neck, chest flat against his. "It doesn't stop my heart," you say, playing with his hair. "It makes it beat faster."

"Wow." Your husband hugs you closer. "So cheesy." He leans back after, pressing a soft kiss to yours.

The two of you continue making out like teenagers again; Jungkook tumbling on his back.

"Kook." You lay on top of him, straddling his sides. "Have you ever thought about seriously talking to your mom about you know, everything you told me?"

Jungkook hums, before answering. "Somewhat but, I'm not sure how that'll go."

"It might be worth it instead of having little pieces slip out when you get into conflict...like tonight for instance."

"I suppose it's not a far-fetched idea. I'll consider it but it might take some more time. For now, I think I'll start by calling her tomorrow. I'm still mad but I don't wanna leave things the way they are now. Plus, I'm sure they don't have plans to go back home early. I'd hate for them to stay in the hotel the rest of these two days."

"Sounds like a plan," you say, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

"Mom." Jungkook holds the phone to his ear. "What are you and Dad doing today?"

"Oh, I–," his mom stutters from the other end. "We're not up to too much. I think your dad wants to swing by some bookstore around town. Uh, what about you?"

"__ at work and I'm home by myself. Are you hungry? I thought maybe we could go out for brunch."

Jungkook hears his mom's tone lift. "Are you sure? I mean that would be lovely but if there are things you need to do then we don't want to...impose."

Mrs. Jeon's sudden willingness to check in is unexpected. Jungkook still senses traces of guilt but at least she's making somewhat of an effort.

"It's my treat," he assures, a little shaky. "I'm sorry about yesterday, mom. Maybe we can talk about it more in person."

"I think that would be good," she agrees simply. "Where and what time do you want to meet up?"

"Drive over here in twenty minutes. We can pile in my car and head over."

Once finally agreed, Jungkook ends the call. He opens his messages and shoots you a text.

Jungkook: Well I did it 😬 [sent at 10:42 a.m]

__: Proud of you ❤️ if anything happens, call me. [sent at 10:44 a.m]

Jungkook: I will. Also, sorry to bring it up but I gotta give Yoongi hyung an answer by tomorrow. Are we babysitting his twins Saturday? [sent at 10:47 a.m]

__: Ahm, it'll likely be the evening, right? [sent at 10:48 a.m]

Jungkook: Probably [sent at 10:49 a.m]

__: I guess, sure. We're going to need to put some stuff away though 😅 And get something fun for them to do! [sent by 10:51 a.m]

Jungkook: Noted but I'm sure they'll bring lots to do. Yoongi hyung is a big sofie for his girls. He buys them everything–literally 🫠 [sent at 10:52 a.m]

__: True. I have to get back to work now but love you xoxo [sent at 10:53 a.m]

A/N: Surprise! jk has mommy issues and they've has been triggered. Was hoping how he talked, thought, & acted towards her in the last chapter gave hints. On the brighter side, jungkook is another step closer to babyville! And next flashback will be something exciting! Lmk if you wanna be tagged or have thoughts in comments or asks! 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

658 notes · View notes

aftgficrec · 4 months

Text

Anonymous said: Hi! Thank you so much for your work. I'm looking for long finished fics, it can be canon or not AND I'm also looking for fics focused on Kevin and Neil friendship

From Ravens angst to food wars there’s a lot of Kevin and Neil here for you to enjoy. Readers, find the long complete fics portion of this ask here. -A

previous recs

Kevin & Neil here

Kevin & Neil friendship here

BFFs Neil & Kevin, physically affectionate here

Neil & Kevin as bffs/brothers + Kev/Neil here

‘To All my friends’ here

‘on thin ice’ here

‘Exit Wound’ here

‘Necessary Losses,’ ‘Remember! Proplifting is Shoplifting!,’ and ‘CVS’ (completed) here

‘don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious’ here

‘I have a Prom-Posal’ here (updated)

‘The Manga is Way Better (Save me from the Fangirls)’ here

‘Homecoming King’ here

‘The One Where Everyone Finds Out’ here

‘How to outrun the mafia, an essay by Neil Josten’ here

‘my friends and I, we got a lot of problems’ and ‘please, carry me, carry me, carry me home’ here

‘I can see the stars though the tears in my skin’ here

‘Odd Eye’ here

‘Carrots’ here

‘You Can't Take the Sky from Me’ here

‘Something Crazy About It’ and ‘The one where Andriel get Cats’ here

‘Dear Advice Guy,’ ‘a little bit special,’ and ‘quicksand’ here

‘Slow Parade’ and ‘Bad Habits’ here

‘Technique is Important’ here

‘venus as a boy’ here (completed)

‘Light a Match’ and ‘stupid, normal teenagers’ here

‘"There's blood on my/your hands."’ here

‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here

‘Two worlds collide’ and ‘Fear & Loathing’ here

‘Father’s Day, ‘08’ here

‘Point Nemo’ here

‘Extra thermador on the side’ ch 14 & 15 here

‘Gimme a Kiss and I'll Kiss You Right Back’ here

‘North Star’ and ‘it's my first and perhaps last time (aka the Exy World Cup Fic)’ here

‘my one, my dear’ here

‘I’m too young to feel numb…’ here

‘The Sickness Was Forever,’ ‘Whatever it takes,’ and ‘It's Just You and Me, Just Us, and Y(our) Friend Kevin’ here

‘Different Roads’ and ‘I Was Ruined From The Start’ here

‘Spun Sugar Truths’ here

‘But man, I can hate you sometimes’ here

‘Remember Me, Love, When I'm Reborn…’ and ‘The Suit Universe’ series (updated) here

‘Through our memories, we live’ here (completed)

‘Die Free or Die a Failure’ here (completed)

‘A Falling Star’ series here

you may also like

andreil & Kevin here

more kevineil here

Andrew & Kevin here

to whom it may aggravate by knoxout [Rated G, 1931 Words, Complete, 2022]

to: [email protected] from: [email protected] ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID????? Kindest regards, Kevin Day

Strike That (from the record) by Mercey [Rated M, 1393 Words, Complete, 2023]

Kevin and Neil decide to read fanfiction about themselves on their podcast. Shenanigans ensue.

Medicated rabbits don't run as fast by AllTheSpadesAndAces [Not Rated, 8690 Words, Incomplete, Updated Nov 2023]

Neil Josten has his mother to thank for an addiction to painkillers, but he won't speak (that) ill of the dead. He's stayed on the run after her death. He never hits the same AA or NA meeting more than once. Usually only going once in every city he passes though. Maybe he should have remembered not to stray too close to Raven territory. After all, he knows what that place can drive people to do. OR Neil meets Kevin at an AA meeting.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: drug addiction, tw: alcohol abuse/alcoholism

Your eyes can’t fool me by maia_m03 [Rate G, 3533 Words, Complete, 2022]

There’s something familiar about this kid and Kevin can’t quite place it. Until he does. (A ‘Kevin recognises Neil at Millport’ AU)

neil josten vs vegetables (aka kevin) by orangejuice9 [Rated T, 3138 Words, Complete, 2023]

Three times Kevin tries to put vegetables in Neil's food, and one time Neil gets his revenge.

this is [home], this is hell by straycrow [Rated M, 1402 Words, Complete, 2022]

The day Kevin left the Nest and Neil behind.

tw: violence, tw: abuse

What the fuck did I do in the end? (Just to not be yours) by allfortheBoyds [Rated M, 2305 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2023]

Kevin goes back to the nest so that Neil can run

no rest for the mischievous by tropicalblend [Rated G, 1681 Words, Complete, 2023]

Kevin forgets an essential piece of Neil's food order so Neil must enact revenge, he must.

frying pans by aknosde [Rated G, 1078 Words, Complete, 2023]

When Kevin trudges down the stairs and into the kitchen Saturday morning it's to the smell of frying sausage and a headache the likes of which he hasn’t seen in years. The fact that the former makes him want to throw up considerably more than the latter lets him know what kind of day it’s going to be. (Or: Neil cooks Kevin breakfast)

tw: implied disordered eating

i want to hold your hand by gay_irl [Rated T, 3481 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil starts to notice that Andrew occasionally exchanges casual touches with Kevin. He feels something about it but he's not sure what. He talks to Andrew and starts to realize the value of non-sexual intimacy. He decides to try it out.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse

why am I like this? by chronically_peach [Rated G, 1744 Words, Complete, 2023]

Kevin doesn’t believe in loneliness. He doesn’t believe in friendship or the need for people around. He spent his entire life never being alone but never having a friend. Loneliness didn’t affect Kevin. Or so he thought. One night Kevin breaks down during late night practice while alone at the court. When he doesn’t come home Andrew and Neil go looking for him

In the Blooms by KaijuusAndKryptids [Rated G, 1273 Words, Complete, Aftg Spring Exchange 2022, Locked]

Kevin works on sobriety, and needs something to fill the time to distract him from needing a drink. He falls into gardening incidentally, but more and more often he finds that he wants to garden for gardening's sake and not to complete another objective.

Proof of Life by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2132 Words, Complete, 2022]

Realistically, Kevin knows he is safe now. No one is after him anymore. No one is plotting to drag him down into the hole he's clawed out of. He has people who will fight to keep it this way.

Kevin? Aaron? Together? My life can't get any worse than this by Artificiosus [Rated T, 2129 Words, Complete, 2022]

He takes a deep breath in. "Where?" "Where what- oh," Kevin replies. "Where?" Neil repeats, his heart rate is speeding up, he feels frozen to the spot. Dread? Fear? Whatever it is, it's locked him down. Kevin gulps. ~~~~~ Kevin tells Neil that he and Aaron slept together.

Hey Look Neil, You Made It! by alexis_needs_sleep [Not Rated, 2224 Words, Complete, 2022]

7 years after Kevin agreed to teach Neil how to play Exy, Kevin shows up on Neil's doorstep with a long overdue gift.

Sticking with our Losers by Webaqoof [Rated T, 1647 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

Kevin dragged his ass from the front porch steps where he was laying down, ready to enter the house. He furrowed his eyebrows to find it still closed, because he clearly heard Neil ringing the doorbell. “Why is the door not open?” Neil brought his hand to his chin in a thinking posture. Which was funny because he never really thought anything. “I think it’s because one of the people in the house doesn’t like me much.”

Could Have Been Me by thornilee013 [Rated T, 1843 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2024]

Kevin finally voices a question that's been bothering him.

i should hate you, i feel stupid. by hynjinnnniee [Rated T, 3391 Words, Complete, 2024]

kevin experiences some complicated feelings after riko dies, and the monsters help him through it.

Naked-Fruit Chiffon Cake, one box by riri_a [Rated T, 2579 Words, Complete, 2023]

Kevin Day was having a very boring morning. Some might say his life was boring in general. Everything changes when a homeless guy with blue eyes decides to rob his workplace. Kevin thinks he's incompetent.

Tell Me the Truth by birthdaycandles774 [Rated T, 1948 Words, Complete, 2023]

The Foxes were staying at the winter banquet for both days, how boring. Andrew had gone to get ice for his drunk brother and cousin when he noticed two Ravens. So far from their nest, strange. He never expected to make a deal with the unannounced member of the 'Perfect Court' who only wanted him to protect Kevin Day. He definitely didn't expect to want the mysterious Raven to stay. The one where Neil was caught by the Moriyamas and is the one to get Kevin out of the Nest.

Kevin Day is keeping Celeste series by Twolipsliterature [Rated G/T, Collection, Incomplete, Updated Feb 2023]

Part 1: What never belonged to angels, Had never belonged to men [T, 1837 Words, Complete] Neil, Andrew, and Kevin are in Columbia for the summer following Riko's death. Needless to say, Kevin is not handling it well. When a breakup leads to a breakdown, Neil and Andrew must learn what it is to be a friend and how to help peice someone back together instead of being the one to break them apart

tw: alcohol abuse/alcoholism

Part 2: If I let you perceive me, do you promise to love me? [T, 11037 Words, Incomplete, Updated Feb 2023] The last thing Kevin expected to do after a messy breakup was immediately fall for someone. Yet, here he is, smitten and cursing himself for it. With more baggage and trauma than he can hide under his bed, Kevin is hesitant to open up to someone. How can anyone get to know him when he barely knows himself? Lucky for him, Celeste is very good at piecing things together. OR: Despite his best efforts, Kevin falls in love.

Part 3: A Lesson In Loving You, A Lesson In Being Loved [G, 4966 Words, Complete]

After months of sneaking around, Neil decides its high time Kevin introduce the foxes to his not-so-secret girlfriend. When it finally happens, he can't shake the feeling that there's something more to her that Kevin is missing...

A Collection of my varying AFTG short stories… by BasiliskCrane [Rated M, Collection, Updated July 2021]

Chapter 6: "your an idiot... " (G, 438 Words)

You Gave Me A Key And Called It Home by vinesse [Collection, Rated T, Complete, 2019]

Chapter 31: Scared, Me? (466 Words)

A Series of H/C One-Shots For All For The Game by carefulren [Rated T, Collection, Updated 2018]

Chapter 1: Neil Downplays How Sick He's Feeling, and the Foxes Step In Chapter 4: sick and problematic kevin trying to keep the team away from him, but the team ignores him

Art

kevneil arguing dynamic comic by @wuzeio

quality bonding time animation by @broresteia

weekly call comic by @bleepbloops

tramp stamps instead of face tattoos art by @koihoi

AU where Kevin meets Neil on the run art by @lucky-slice

69 notes · View notes

ssinnerplazahotel · 1 month

Text

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Nine*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 8k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Time is a strange thing. It has a way of going by slowly and in a hurry all at the same time. It doesn’t wait for you or let you catch up. You discovered early on that if you focused too much on time it drifted by slowly. If you kept yourself busy and focused on other things it went by without you noticing too much. So you kept yourself as busy as possible.

Although you had plenty of money saved, you got a job within your first week of being in Atlanta. You waited tables at a small diner just a few blocks from the apartment you were renting.

It wasn’t the nicest apartment. It was above a family-owned restaurant and your landlord wasn’t the most forgiving woman in the world, but it was in the heart of the city and close enough to your job.

It wasn’t entirely without incident that you’d ended up there. When you arrived at the train station you’d decided to take the first train leaving that was going the furthest away.

Regardless, you didn’t regret the decision. It was a busy city, and you needed to be busy.

When you called Dawn that first night, from a hotel in the middle of a completely different state, she tore into for nearly thirty minutes. You were able to convince her that you were fine, and that you were doing what was necessary. You weren’t having a breakdown, you were trying to prevent one.

You didn’t expect to spend the next month searching for a place to be. That month of aimlessly wandering was unnerving, but now you were settling nicely in Georgia now.

You had left Memphis behind and you were gaining important life skills and managing your finances. It wasn’t the most ideal job, but you were able to throw yourself into your work everyday.

You were happy with the way things were going. And the more consumed you were with work and surviving, the less effort it took not to think about him.

You missed him every single day, a part of you always would. But it didn’t hurt as much anymore. The hole he left in your heart was still there, hollow but numb now.

“You got company, treasure,” Your coworker called out to you from the kitchen.

“Give me that sirloin, Chuck, I asked for it first.” You ducked your head to talk to him through the service window. “You get around like an old man.”

“You got one coming in hot,” He responded. “If you were nicer maybe you’d get your shit faster.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Looks like somebody’s lost,” Sinclair, a fellow waitress at the restaurant, said as she walked over to grab her order. You followed her gaze to the man taking a seat in your section. It wasn’t a segregated restaurant by any means, but only a certain demographic of people really ate there—this man, wearing a fancy suit and sunglasses in the middle of the night, didn’t fit into any of those boxes. “Let him know this ain’t Sterling’s.”

You laughed. “I might let him think it is for a big enough tip.”

“Speaking of big enough.” Sinclair called out to Chuck through the service window. “Where’s that sirloin?”

“Hey, next one’s mine.” You took your notepad and pen out of the front pocket of your apron. “I’m coming right back for it, Chuckles.”

“I’ll have it for you, treasure, don’t worry. I’m only one man.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over to your section. You stopped to check on a few people before you made it to the man’s table. He wore dark shades even though it was nighttime and he kept his head down looking at the menu until you spoke.

“Hello,” You said, getting his attention before introducing yourself. “I’m going to be taking care of you tonight. What can I get started for you?”

He hesitated as he read your name from your name tag. He had an odd tone when he spoke but you couldn’t make out his expression behind the sunglasses.

“Yes.” You smiled politely, preparing to write. “What can I get started for you?”

“Well I’ll be, it is you.” He laughed. “What are you doin here?”

“I think you have me confused with someone else.” You smiled uncomfortably. “Just one of those faces~”

“Oh, no, it’s me.” He stood and removed the glasses.

“Joel?” Your stomach dropped. “Oh my god.”

Joel laughed, hugging you enthusiastically. “I haven’t seen you since you took off.”

You froze when he hugged you, uncomfortably patting his back with one hand before he pulled away. You glanced around the restaurant to see if anyone was watching, catching a few eyes before looking up at him again. “W-What are you doing here, Joel? Are you here with someone?”

“No, I’m alone.” He still looked stunned to see you.

“I-I hardly recognized you for a second,” You stammered.

“You look~ I mean~ you haven’t changed.” He laughed. “I only been out here a couple weeks or so with my parents.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, my dad opened up a repair shop just off the highway.”

“Auto repair?” You presumed.

“Yeah, he wanted me up here with ‘im. He’s got me fixin cars all day.”

“Why Atlanta?”

“I guess he thinks city folk have more car trouble,” He chuckled. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why here?”

You shrugged. “I just found myself here. No reason really.”

“It’s a strange city,” Joel said. “I don’t think I’ve slept a wink since I been here.”

“I guess that explains the sunglasses in the middle of the night?”

“Oh, yeah, not to mention that I’m so hungover I can’t see straight.” He smiled when you laughed. “I don’t get out much but I pay the price when I do.”

“Well, sit down, I’ll bring you some coffee.” You smiled and turned to walk away before he stopped you.

“Maybe we can catch up,” He said. “You’re the only familiar face I seen since I been here.”

“I’m working right now.”

“After?”

You hesitated. “I-I don’t know…”

His face fell slightly. “That’s fine, I understand.”

You felt bad about declining the offer. He was a familiar face and he’d had a good rapport with Dawn and you would consider him an old friend, even though you rarely ever spoke. “…I’m off in the next hour. If you’re willing to wait.”

“Yeah.” He nodded with a smile. “I’m not in any rush.”

You smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here,” He said, retaking his seat.

Sinclair looked at you with narrowed eyes as you walked over to the service window. “You know that man?”

“He’s an old friend,” You said, leaning down to talk to Chuck. “Give it to me, baby.”

“I got you,” He said. “Order up in five.”

“Order up now.” You walked away to pour up the coffee.

“How do you know him?” Sinclair asked as Chuck served her orders through the window.

“He knows my aunt,” You stated simply. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Sinclair said, checking her tickets. “Can’t I ask?”

“I never said you couldn’t.” You took your orders out of the window and loaded them onto a serving tray. “Thanks, Chuckles.”

“You’re welcome,” He said. “You gone in an hour?”

“I’m gone in forty-nine minutes.” You dropped your orders at your other tables before taking Joel his coffee. He ordered his food and you took the ticket back to Chuck.

The final hour of a shift was always the hardest to get through, but you managed to finish out strong. You set up the next waitron before clocking out in the back.

“See you tomorrow,” You called to Chuck and Sinclair, waving at a few coworkers on your way over to Joel’s table. He perked up a little when he saw you, closing one of the four travel pamphlets he was reading to pass the time. “You know anything about Vegas yet?”

“Not unless you’re interested in a Tropicana Holiday,” He said, holding up the brochure. “Three days, two nights.”

You smiled and sat down across from him, draping your coat over the back of your chair and sitting your purse on the ground beside you. “How’s your head?”

“Like it never happened.”

“Good.”

One of your coworkers approached your table. Her name was Monica, that was just about all you knew about her. “What can I get started for you guys?” She asked, eyeing the two of you strangely.

“Are you hungry?” Joel asked.

“I’m fine,” You insisted quickly.

“You should eat,” He argued. “It’s on me.”

“Joel, really, it’s fine.”

“I insist.”

He ordered you something off of the menu for you and Monica jotted down the order before walking away.

“You know I can’t let you pay for it,” You said when she was gone.

“Let me. Consider it a favor from an old friend.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“I won’t let you.” He chuckled, pushing his hair out of his eyes. His blond curls still framed his face like they did when you first met him, though they were longer now—nearly dusting his shoulders. It made him look boyish even though his features were mature. “What made you leave Memphis?”

“I needed a change of scenery.” You had repeated the same lie to everyone you encountered, so much so that you were starting to believe it yourself.

“D’you still talk to Elvis at all?”

“Why would I?”

He shrugged indifferently and moved on. “I saw Dawn before I left.”

“You did?” You perked up a bit, grateful for the immediate change in subject. “How was she?”

“She was good, still workin at the house,” He said. “She’s the same old Dawn.”

Monica returned with your order and the two of you sat there talking until you finished eating. Joel was interested in hearing about the places you’d been to around the city and you were happy to tell him. You had more than enough stories to tell after being on your own for so long.

Thinking back, you weren’t sure how you’d done it. As you were recalling the memories you were also recalling how afraid and completely lost you were—fear had been the only thing you’d felt in months. You were so constantly afraid that you were used to it.

“You live near here?” Joel asked after paying the bill. “I can take you home.”

“I usually walk,” You said, grabbing your things and standing with him. “My place is just a few blocks from here.”

“I’ll walk you~”

“You don’t have to go out of your way~”

“I don’t mind, really. I want to make sure you get there alright.”

You couldn’t convince him to let you go alone, so the two of you left the restaurant together.

The entire night had been so surreal, you never expected to see anyone from Memphis again. “I can’t believe we ran into each other like this.”

“It’s funny. All these people and we still managed to bump into each other.”

You hummed in agreement. “I guess you stumbled into the right diner.”

“I guess I did.” Joel sighed. “I ain’t talked to anyone outside of my folks in a while.”

“I haven’t had time to make any friends.”

“It’s harder to make friends in the city.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “Back home, you step outside your house and you make all kinds of friends just from right there on your front porch.”

You laughed at that. “It was never that simple for me.”

“I’ve met some good people that way. You meet people everywhere here but you don’t know anyone.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you hate Atlanta?”

“I don’t know…I think I’ll start to hate it less.”

After Joel dropped you off that night you didn’t see him again for a couple of weeks. You figured that you would see very little of him even though you were in the same state. However, he did show up again eventually.

“What are you here for? Another cure?”

“I’m sober as a judge.”

You laughed. “I would take your order but you just missed me. I’m off now.”

“Then I’m right on time.” He smiled. “I wanted to take a look at the old coupe deville. You were telling me about it.”

“You came to look at my car?” You asked incredulously. “It’s ten o’clock at night.”

“Time still doesn’t exist to me, I guess.” He shrugged sheepishly. “I understand if you have plans.”

“I don’t have any plans, Joel, it’s ten o’clock,” You said, making him laugh. “You don’t need an excuse to come see me, y’know?”

You meant it as a joke but Joel’s face still flushed slightly at your words. “Can I walk you home?”

“Just let me grab my stuff,” You said. “I’ll be quick.”

“You better be. It is ten o’clock, y’know?”

You cut your eye at him and walked to the back to get your things.

“Yo, treasure, that guy bothering you?”

“No, Chuck, didn’t I tell you he’s an old friend?”

Chuck scoffed and mumbled something under his breath before getting back to what he was doing.

“That white boy’s out there for you again,” Sinclair said, sauntering through the door.

“His name’s Joel,” You said.

“And what does Joel want with you?” She asked. “He’s been here three times now.”

“I think I know what he wants with her,” Chuck said, walking back out into the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Chuck.” You shrugged on your jacket and faced Sinclair. “He’s been here three times?”

“He came while I was covering your shift last week,” She said. “Speaking of, I’m gonna need you to return the favor. Wendell has a parent-teacher conference at school Friday night and Marc can’t make it.”

You nodded, distracted. “I can do Friday night.”

“It’s three to eleven, my usual.”

“I’ll make it work, don’t worry.”

Sinclair thanked you and wished you a safe trip home before getting back to her tables. You put on a smile as you met Joel, admittedly drained but not wanting to let it show.

“How was your day?” He asked, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his acid washed jeans as you walked along the quiet sidewalk.

“Okay,” You responded. “Long.”

“I hear you,” Joel sighed.

“My coworker said you came by sometime last week,” You mentioned. “You weren’t looking for me were you?”

“I don’t know.” He smiled, embarrassed.

“Why were you looking for me?”

“I don’t~”

“You have to know. A person doesn’t just do things without knowing why.”

“I don’t know,” He said anyway, making you shoot him a glare. He laughed it off. “Maybe I wanted to see you.”

He looked away as he spoke, kicking at the loose rocks on the sidewalk.

“Is that bad?” He asked when you didn’t respond, still looking down at the sidewalk, watching the rocks as they skidded ahead each time he kicked them.

“No, I don’t think so,” You said. “Do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” He said, laughing in realization. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to~”

“It’s fine.” You smiled.

“I was already out tryna to get away from my parents, so I figured I’d try you again today.”

“Do your parents smother you?” You asked.

“Oh yeah.” He heaved a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was frustrated at the thought of his parents or relieved to be shifting subjects. “They always have. Mama’s terrible about it, and daddy—he does whatever she tells him to. They don’t think I can make it on my own.”

“I’m sure they do it out of love.”

“I know.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Everything I do is to try and prove to them that I can take care of myself. I’m starting to think they’ll always see me as a kid.”

“You should talk to them,” You suggested. “If they love you enough they’ll hear you out and try to change.”

“You think so?”

“It’s worth the shot.”

Joel smiled. “This is why I like being around you. You always have something good to say.”

You laughed in denial. “I know how it feels to be stuck in a box and not know how to get out.”

“Your folks overbearing?” Joel asked.

“Dawn’s really my only family.”

“I remember you saying that,” He said with an apologetic expression. “It must be tough being on your own.”

“It’s okay.” You were getting used to it, you almost preferred being alone. “Y-You should really talk to your parents. I think they’ll understand how you feel.”

“I will,” He said. “I’ll tell you how it goes.”

“Already planning your next stakeout,” You pointed out humorously. “Why don’t you just wait outside of my apartment instead of at my job?”

“You’re giving great advice tonight.” He laughed along with you for a moment. “Maybe I’ll catch you on a day you’re off, and it’s not ten o’clock at night.”

“You’ll have to if you plan on telling me about your talk with your parents.” Joel laughed again as you contemplated the idea. “I’m free tomorrow.”

“I’m usually done with everything at the shop around three on Thursdays—I could just….”

“That’s fine. You know the address now, I assume.”

“Locked and loaded.” He tapped his temple. “Not because I regularly stake out your apartment or anything.”

“No, of course not.” You smiled. “It’s 3B. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t,” He said. “You should give me your number. In case I have to call and cancel.”

You narrowed your eyes jokingly, coming to a stop as you approached your apartment building. You took your pen and pad out of the front of the apron you still wore under your coat and jotted down your number and address. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Joel said, taking the ticket. “Good night.”

You smiled and turned to walk into the restaurant that led up to your apartment.

Joel waited until you were inside before walking back the way you guys came.

“Leftovers,” Your landlady called as she wiped down the tables for the night, nodding her head at the carefully packaged food. “You’re late. I almost threw them away.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Angie,” You said as you grabbed the bag. “You’re always so kind.”

She hummed, uninterested in your compliment. “Rent’s due by the end of the week, no exceptions.”

“I’m gonna have all of it,” You promised, heading for the stairs. “Tell Mr. Ben I said goodnight.”

You climbed the stairs and got into your apartment. After putting the leftovers in the fridge you didn’t have any energy left to do anything but shower and go to bed.

You dropped your tips in your savings jar and called it a night.

“I looked at him and I said ‘Daddy, some things are gonna hafta change around here if I’mma keep working for you. I ain’t gonna let you and mama run me around and tell me what to do like you have been. Not anymore.’ You know what he said?”

“What?”

“He said ‘get your ass over there and start rotatin them tires.’”

You laughed from where you sat on the ground piecing together a puzzle on your coffee table. Joel sat on the sofa looking down at it as you made more progress.

“So?” You asked, glancing up at him. “What’d you do?”

“I got my ass over there and started rotating them tires.” He laughed along with you. “What was I s’posed to do?”

“He probably just didn’t know how to react,” You said, picking up another piece of the puzzle and examining the incomplete picture of a swan on a lake.

“There.” Joel pointed to the missing part of the swans beak.

“At least you tried.” You put the piece in its place. “I wouldn’t know where to start if I tried to unpack things with my dad.”

“Tell me about your dad.” He moved from the sofa and sat down next to you on the floor

“There’s nothing to tell,” You said. “He left when I was little and took my brother with him.”

“Do you remember anything about him?”

“I try not to.”

You laughed but Joel’s expression remained serious. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” You said. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“It should.” You focused on the puzzle as he spoke. “Not having both your parents ain’t easy.”

“You can’t miss what you never had.”

“Yeah, but you can long for something you should’ve.”

You met his eyes and your expression grew to match his.

“I think, even if you say there isn’t, there’s a part of you that wishes he had been there for you.”

“There isn’t.”

“It’s okay if there is~”

“There’s not, Joel.” You examined the piece in your hand, scanning the puzzle again. “I don’t have any strong feelings about the situation. It’s just something that happened.”

Joel took the puzzle piece from you and tucked it into its proper place. “He missed out on a good thing from what I can tell. It’s his loss.”

You shrugged. “I wish my brother and I would have gotten a chance to grow up together. Other than that I just…”

“Try not to think about it,” Joel finished. You nodded. “I won’t bring it up again.”

You smiled a little as he pieced together another piece of the puzzle. “Why are you actually good at this?”

“You just havta go by the colors.” He handed you another piece. “Sit back and look at the bigger picture.”

You followed his advice and leaned away from the coffee table. “Ah, I see.” You laughed, finding where the piece went immediately.

“There you go.” Joel laughed.

“I still might take you hostage and make you finish it for me.” You smiled. “I’ll never get it done on my own.”

“I’d be a willing hostage,” He said. “I like being here with you.”

You laughed again, unsure of how you should respond. “I’d make for a terrible captor.”

Joel smiled without meeting your eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re a strange man, Joel,” You said. “Sometimes I wonder.”

“What do you wonder?”

“I wonder what you’re doing here.”

He looked up at you. “I like being around you.”

You nodded. “You’ve said that.”

“You want more of a reason?”

“Yes.”

He smiled again, looking off in thought as he fidgeted with the puzzle piece in his hand. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try.”

“When I think of being anywhere else…I always rather be with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.”

He avoided your eyes, focusing instead on where your hand rested near his on the coffee table.

“I like you too.”

“N-No, I…I like you more.”

“More?”

“I’m attracted to you.”

You fell silent. He wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already suspected, but you were slow to process his words.

He seemed to panic when you didn’t respond. “I don’t want that to change anything~”

“It won’t,” You reassured him. “A-And I want to spend time together when we can.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I didn’t realize how lonely I was before you came along.”

Joel’s hand brushed against yours when he shifted and you felt a rush of something between fear and panic but you didn’t pull away.

“I can always keep you company.”

“Would you?”

“If you wanted me to.” His eyes darted to your lips for less than a second before landing on your eyes.

Your voice was barely above a whisper when you spoke again. “…I want you to.”

Silence settled over the room and the air seemed to thicken as it went on. The space between the two of you gradually decreased and you both hesitated, you imagined for entirely different reasons. Joel started to pull away after sensing your hesitation but you closed the space between your lips before he could.

You broke the kiss immediately, anxiously awaiting his reaction. He shifted towards you, taking your face between both his hands and searching your eyes for any sign of skepticism before kissing you again.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to rest on his forearms. You only opened your eyes when he broke the kiss, finding his already on you.

“Will you stay?”

“If you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

Your relationship with Joel brought something into your life that you didn’t realize you were missing.

He was there for you when you needed him and even when you didn’t. He listened to you and he was interested in your thoughts. He didn’t expect anything from you. He was patient and he let you come to terms with your feelings on your own accord. He was your friend before he was your lover.

You felt different when you were with Joel. You didn’t feel nervous or anxious when you were around him. You weren’t afraid to tell him the truth and you never worried that he’d hurt you or find some way to punish you if you went against him. He was gentle with you, almost too gentle.

“I want you to meet my parents,” He said during one of his afternoon visits. “I told them about you.”

“You did?”

“They want to meet you,” He said. “They wanna know who’s been taking up all my time.”

You didn’t know what was so different at the time—why Joel made you feel so different. You soon came to realize that Joel’s way of loving you simply wasn’t the same as Elvis’ way of loving you.

You were there for each other when you had no one. There was a space you filled in each other’s lives that was different. Even though it took time, you grew to understand and accept that.

“You mean they want to know if I’m worth your time.” You stood at the counter sectioning Ms. Angie’s leftovers into airtight containers. You always had more than enough, so you usually took some to Sinclair whenever you had shifts together.

“No, I can tell them that,” Joel said. He stood behind you and slipped his arms around your waist. “Some things they gotta see for themselves.”

You laughed, shying away from the kiss he left on your cheek. “I don’t know how you’ll manage to make time. You work almost every day and I work every night.”

“I’ll make time,” He said. “You just hafta tell me when you’re off.”

“Fine,” You agreed. “But make it lunch, not dinner.”

“Lunch not dinner, got it.” He nodded once. “You taking that to Sinclair?”

“Yes,” You sighed. “If I eat another dumpling I might die. I don’t have the heart to turn it down.”

Joel laughed, letting you walk out of his arms. “I’ll pick you up tonight. 10:30?”

“10:30.” You put the containers into an old grocery bag and tied the handles before grabbing your keys. "I'll see you tonight.”

“I’ll see you.” He smiled, his eyes following you as you left. “I love you.”

You cut your eye over your shoulder, slowing to a stop. You walked back over and left a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Lock up when you leave.”

Things with Joel progressed quickly after you’d acknowledged your feelings. You were apprehensive at times about letting him into your life all at once, but you were more afraid to let him go after you’d grown attached. You feared that things would change the more he got to know you and that he’d leave on his own. But with time your trust grew and your feelings became stronger; you longed for him when he was away.

He became a part of your everyday. Long after the initial attraction that brought the two of you together had started to fade you still wanted him in your life.

Eventually, after talking and thinking it over, he moved in together. You were practically inseparable so it made the most sense.

“Marry me.”

“No.”

You were genuinely happy and you couldn’t see things any other way.

“Marry me.”

“Joel.”

You had a tolerable job, a decent place to live, and a person to share your life with.

“I’m not gonna stop asking.”

“That’s called harassment.”

It felt like you were finally getting a taste of that stability that had made you envy Andrea.

“Marry me.”

“For the love of god.”

You were somewhere in your life that you never thought you’d be.

“Please?”

You couldn’t have been more content.

“Fine. I’ll marry you.”

“Where are you, sugar?”

“I’m here.”

You sighed and closed the book in your hands as Joel entered your shared bedroom. He smiled when he saw you, dropping his work boots by the door.

“Look at you, lookin like a regular ol housewife.” He laughed, unbuttoning the dirty flannel he was wearing.

“You know I hate when you say that,” You said with a slight roll of your eyes.

“It’s not a bad thing,” He said, walking towards you. “Not to mention you will be soon.”

“Uh, uh.” You put a hand out to stop him. “You better wash all that off before you come over here.”

“Don’t I at least get a kiss?” He asked, still inching towards you. “I ain’t seen you all day.”

“Who’s fault is that?” You tilted you head expectantly.

“It’s my fault,” He said, kneeling on the bed. “It’s all my fault.”

You laughed despite your protests, pushing him away only after he’d stolen a kiss. He went into the bathroom to turn on the shower before leaning on the doorframe. “I meant to tell you that daddy wants me to go to Charleston after work tomorrow to pick up some parts.”

“Charleston?” You asked. “It’s gonna take all day to get there and back.”

“I know, but you can come with me and we can make it a thing.”

“‘Make it a thing?’”

“Make a trip out of it.”

“I don’t like the roads around Charleston.”

“I’ll drive.”

“Sinclair and Marcus were going to come over tomorrow night.”

“I know,” He repeated with an apologetic expression. “I don’t want to, but Charleston’s got the only place we can find that has any of those new alternators. I told you about them, they’re imported. We’re gonna be able to reach a whole nother demographic if we~”

“Baby, please, don’t go on one of your car rants.” You closed your book again, abandoning it on the bed as you stood. “This is the third time I’m going to have to cancel on them. Can’t your father go on his own for once?”

“I told him I would. It’s not like I’m doin it for free, I’m gettin paid for making the trip.”

“That’s not the point.”

“It’s my job to take care of you. You know that’s why I’m doing it, so why give me shit for it everytime?”

“Because I hardly ever see you anymore. I mean it, I don’t want to live here if it means you working all hours of the day and night.”

“We’re staying here. No one bothers us here, we keep to ourselves~”

“I’ll start working again to take away some of the pressure.”

“That’s not what I want.”

“What about what I want? I want you here, with me, more often.”

“I want to be here, sweetheart, I do. I’m not tryin to prioritize anything over you…” He worried his bottom lip as spoke, rubbing his face thoughtfully.

“But?” You prompted.

“But I hafta help at the shop as much as I can. It’s getting to be just as much my responsibility as it is daddy’s,”

“What am I supposed to do? Get in line and wait my turn for your attention?”

“You have my attention, always.” He crossed the room and took your hands in his. “If it’ll make you happy I’ll tell him I can’t go tomorrow, but I have to at some point.”

“Don’t bother.” You pulled away from him and walked away. “You don’t bother telling him anything else.”

“Why are you tearing into me right now?” He asked, shocked by your comment.

“Why won’t you tell him we’re getting married?” You faced him, arms crossed.

“I’m gonna tell him and mama~”

“When?”

“I don’t know just yet. When I can..”

“I’m starting to think you’ve changed your mind.”

“I haven’t.”

“Are you ashamed of me?” You asked.

“No, god, no.” He grew more frustrated. “I know they’ll never let me hear the end of it when they find out. It’s not about you at all.”

You fell silent, looking down to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

“I could never be ashamed of you, you’re too important to me.” He continued when you didn’t respond. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you like I should. I’ll try harder, okay? I’m gonna tell daddy I can’t go tomorrow and we’re gonna have some fun with our friends.”

You sensed him coming closer before you felt him gently lift your chin to meet your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” He whispered. “You know I hate to see you cry.”

You swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Stay and read your book,” He said. “You can tell me about it when I’m done.”

You nodded, forcing a small smile. “Okay.”

He kissed your forehead and let you go. “I’ll be quick.”

“Joel.” You stopped him. “I don’t want to be kept a secret.”

“I’ll tell them.”

“Tomorrow.”

He looked undeniably conflicted but he nodded his head before silently retreating to the bathroom.

The next day, upon hearing the news, his father fired him and kicked him out of the shop. You had a feeling that Joel knew that his father would react that way and had been putting off telling him for that reason.

He tried to put on a brave face about the situation, but you could see it in his eyes that he was hurt. He had every right to be after years of putting so much into building and maintaining the business with his father.

“McNally’s been bugging me about coming to work for him at his dealership,” He said. “I’m sure the offer still stands.”

“I’m so sorry, Joel.” You felt like it was your fault. If you hadn’t pushed him to tell his parents he’d still have a relationship with them and a job he loved.

“I don’t want you thinking this is your fault,” He said. “We’re gonna be married and if mama and daddy can’t accept that, then…I don’t want them in our life.”

You leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed your arms. You didn’t know what to do other than apologize.

“I’m gonna change and head over to talk to McNally.” He stepped in front of you and took your face in his hands. “Don’t look so troubled, we’re gonna be alright. We might be more than alright if McNally gets me in at the dealership. There’s better pay and benefits~”

“It’s not what you love to do.”

“If it means I can take care of you, I love it.”

You slipped your arms around his torso, hugging him. He hugged you back.

“It’s all gonna work out,” He promised. He pulled away first, ducking his head to kiss your lips before he walked away. “Maybe you and Sinclair can go out tonight instead. You should take your car for a drive anyway. You’ll kill that battery leaving it sitting in the driveway all the time.”

“I’ll call her.”

“Brighten up, sugar,” He laughed. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You tried to smile. “I believe you.”

Joel secured a job working at Bibby McNally’s car dealership and, while it wasn’t something he was passionate about, he made the most of it. It was a high scale dealership and they had a lot of traffic all year round so it was never a dull moment. At times you could see him becoming drained and uninterested, but he insisted that working there was good for the two of you.

He was home more often and you got to spend more time together. It was exactly what you wanted, however, you felt guilty about him losing his job and contact with his parents.

One evening after he got off of work he came barreling into the house calling out for you. You rushed to meet him in the living room.

“What happened?” You asked in alarm.

“You aren’t going to believe this,” He said with excitement behind his words. “Guess who came into the dealership today. Guess.”

“Wha~ Who?” You asked, your eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Elvis,” Joel said, enthusiastically. “Elvis-fucking-Presley.”

“W-What?” You tried not to let your expression grow horrified. “He did?”

“Can you believe that?” Joel walked past you in the direction of your bedroom, loosening the tie around his neck. “He came in lookin some kinda Roadrunner. I was trying to get a Pontiac off my hands and all of the sudden the lady I’m selling to screams at the top of her lungs. I turn around and there he is.”

“Did you talk to him?” You asked, following him to the room. You stopped him before he walked to the bathroom. “I’m not done.”

“I talked to him.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “He has some time off from filming, I guess.”

“Oh?” You crossed your arms to stop your hands from fidgeting.

He nodded as he slipped off his shiny dress shoes and tucked them under the foot of the bed. “He said he wanted us to come back with him to Graceland over the weekend.”

“You told him about us?” You asked.

“Yeah, he was as shocked as you could imagine.” Joel laughed. “He said he’d arrange for us to fly out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You asked.

“You’ve asked me a hundred questions since I walked through the door,” He said. “Tell me what you think. We should go right?”

“I-I don’t know, it’s so all of a sudden, y-y’know,” You stammered. “You have work and we’re starting a new book in my club~”

“Sweetheart.” He stood from the bed as he unbuttoned his shirt. “You’re seriously telling me that you’d pass this up to go read a book?”

“You have work.”

“I can get away for a weekend,” He said. “It could be fun. We could see Dawn while we’re there. And Cynthia—Andrea, maybe.”

“You aren’t going to let this go are you?”

“A hundred and one questions.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll never ask you for anything again if you’ll just go with me tomorrow. It’ll feel like old times.”

“For you maybe.” You walked back into the bathroom.

“Finish up in there so I can shower,” He called as you shut the door. “I wanna help you cook.”

“Just a minute.” You leaned forward against the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror. For a moment you saw your old self reflected back at you. Just hearing his name made you feel small and panicky. Knowing that he was in the same state didn’t make it any easier to breathe. You hadn’t seen him since~

Let me t-try to be better. Just give me a chance, baby, please.

You closed your eyes and tried to physically shake away the sudden memory. Was it possible for a heart to stay broken for this long?

You couldn’t see him. You didn’t want to see him. You’d put him out of your mind, escaped the hold he had on you. You’d worked so hard to rebuild yourself after he’d broken you down. You were at a place in your life where you were so sure of everything, you didn’t want to see him and lose all that progress.

You were in love with Joel and the two of you were prepared to build a life together. You didn’t want Elvis’ presence to taint that in any way.

“I wonder if Sonny and Lamar’ll be there tomorrow night,” Joel continued from outside of the bathroom. “Maybe Red and Billy too.”

“I don’t know,” You responded in the steadiest tone you could muster.

“I’m sure they’ll be there,” He continued. “You remember my cousin Jerry?”

You took slow breaths and stood upright with your hands on your hips. “I’m sure they’ll all be there, Joel.”

He laughed. “Tell me you’ll go. I don’t wanna havta drag you kicking and screaming.”

You swallowed harshly as you started putting away the makeup you had strewn across the counter. “Can we come back Sunday?”

“Yeah,” He responded, delighted with your capitulation. “We can come back whenever you want.”

You took one last deep breath and put on a decent expression before leaving the bathroom. “I don’t want to be gone too long, that’s all.”

“I’ll get you back home before you can even start to miss it.” He smiled as he watched you leave the room.

“Perfect.”

You went to figure out where he’d hidden your cigarettes. You pulled open a few kitchen drawers and shuffled through them before you found the slim, silver case. Your mind raced as you used the stove to light the cigarette before turning off the burner. You hadn’t smoked since Joel insisted that you quit weeks ago, but you couldn’t think of any other way to calm your nerves. You’d start your streak over tomorrow.

When Joel finally got out of the shower, he found you standing by the window in the living room. You were on your second cigarette and so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed him at first.

“You better put that out,” He chided, walking over. “I told you what they’ve been saying about them things.”

“Luther Terry’s fighting a losing battle,” You muttered, crushing the cigarette in the ashtray that sat on the windowsill.

“I ain’t seen you smoke a cigarette in weeks.” He stood behind you and put his arms around your waist.

“I know.”

“Something bothering you?”

“Are you still going to Virginia with Bibby?” You asked in an attempt to avoid the question.

“Yeah…” He fell silent for a moment. “It should be the last trip for a while. Once convention season’s over I’m all yours.”

You walked out of his arms. “You should wear the navy suit you wore last week. I know you lost your red tie~”

“You’re upset.” He followed you to the kitchen.

“I’m fine.” You tried to smile, forcing back all of the thoughts that were threatening to consume you. “I’ll find your tie.”

You continued taking the pots and pans down to start cooking.

“How is Bibby anyway?” You wanted to fill the silence. “The baby?”

“He’s good, the baby’s good,” Joel said. “He says Yvette’s a natural…”

You tried to listen as Joel went on about Bibby and Yvette, but you were too preoccupied–too full of dread.

After all you’d gone through, you were walking back into the belly of the beast.

“Don’t get me in too much trouble,” Joel said handing you your second flute of champagne. “I don’t want no misdemeanor for aiding and abetting.”

“You’re a year older than me, Joel. Don’t you think I can handle a little champagne by now?” You laughed and took the glass.

“We’ll see.” He shrugged.

“Not too much for you tonight either. You’re driving.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m barely buzzin.” He slipped his arm around your waist and kissed you with gin-stained lips. The two of you parted at the sound of Joel’s name being called over the music, turning your heads in the direction of the voice. He lit up when he saw who it was. You smiled as they embraced each other.

“How have you been?” Joel asked.

“Alright,” Jerry responded with an indolent shrug. “This her?”

“Yeah.” Joel smiled, slipping his arm around your waist and introducing you.

“Right.” Jerry repeated your name as if it rang a bell and you exchanged brief pleasentries. “Look, E.P. wants y’all to come up. He sent me to find you.”

You took another sip of your drink after Joel quickly accepted the invitation. You probably shouldn’t have been drinking, you were beyond queasy and the champagne wasn’t helping–not to mention that it tasted like battery acid. You finished the glass anyway, hoping that, if anything, it would calm your nerves.

“Come on, baby,” Joel said, taking the glass from you and abandoning it at the bar with his own. He took your hand in his and leaned in to speak in your ear. “You can still let me know if you change your mind while we’re up there.” You nodded, forcing a small smile before letting him lead you as he followed Jerry to the elevators. The music from the party faded behind the doors and all that remained was the gentle melody of the elevator music. “How long y’all been in Georgia?”

“Since yesterday. E heard about the dealership so he wanted to pass through.”

“How’d he hear about it?”

“I’m not too sure.”

Their voices faded to the background. All you heard was the sound of your heartbeat accelerating. After so long, you wondered if he’d be different. Your fear and panic was beginning to be replaced by other things that you didn’t want to acknowledge let alone describe. Because having to describe those feelings would’ve meant admitting they were there.

The elevator stopped on the top floor and you forced your feet to move. Jerry led you to the suite and opened the door without knocking. “I found them, E,” He said, walking in first.

His eyes met yours almost instantly. Those baby blue eyes that were so familiar yet so distanced from the ones you knew. He still had that youthful glow about him as he smiled and stood to greet the two of you. His gaze lingered on you briefly but no longer than a second. “Joel, ol boy.” His voice caused your breath to hitch. It was different somehow, deeper and richer, but so familiar. Like an old song who’s melody you’d forgotten but still knew all the words to. You could’ve been making it all up. It could’ve been that he was exactly as you'd left him but his beauty had already started to fade in your memory. “I’m glad y’all could make it.”

“Yeah, so are we.” Joel smiled and asked if he remembered you.

“Of course,” Elvis said, shifting his attention to you. He had an amused glint in his eyes as he smiled at you. “How have you been, honey?”

“Okay.” You tried to smile, breaking eye contact for a moment. “How have you been?”

“Okay,” He said, before turning to retake his seat, the people sitting at the table with him cleared the space. “Sit down here a minute and a tell me what you’ve been up to, Joel. I saw you weren’t with your dad anymore.”

“No, I haven’t been for a while,” Joel said, pulling out a chair for you. “We had some differences of opinion.”

“Help yourself to a drink if you want,” Elvis offered. “We can get whatever you prefer.”

“I’m okay,” Joel said. They each looked to you expectantly.

“I’m sorry?” You asked.

“D’you want a drink?” Elvis repeated.

“No, thank you.” You avoided his eyes.

He moved on with his conversation with Joel and you noticed a smirk gracing his features when you glanced his way. “What happened with your old man? I thought you two were close.”

“I thought we were. But my folks didn’t exactly approve when I told them we was getting married.”

“Married?” He seemed genuinely surprised. Joel must’ve not mentioned it before.

“I held off telling them. I knew they’d have something to say about it, but…”

“What’d they say?”

“Daddy fired me from the shop and I haven’t spoken to them since.”

Elvis grimaced. “Man, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Joel shrugged. “It’s a shame but I can’t change their minds about anything.”

“Well, congratulations anyway. You make an interesting pair.”

“Interesting how?”

Both their gazes turned to you when you spoke.

“Unexpected, I should say,” Elvis rephrased. “How’d you get caught up with Joel?“

“We ran into each other one day.” You tore your eyes away and looked at Joel.

“Why were you in Georgia?” Elvis asked.

“For a change of scenery. ” You opened your purse and retrieved your case of cigarettes—your nerves were getting the best of you. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Elvis said. “You know Dawny retired?”

“She mentioned it.” You nodded.

“She’s up in her own place now,” He said. “I check on her when I can.”

“That’s nice. I wish I could visit more,” You responded.

“I wish you could too,” He uttered, picking up a lighter from the table. “Light?”

You put the slim, white cigarette between your lips and leaned toward him as he struck the lighter. You sat back in your seat after the cigarette was lit, avoiding eye contact with both him and Joel.

“So you’re sellin cars now?” Elvis asked Joel, sliding a porcelain ashtray over to you.

“Mhm.”

“How d’you like it?”

“It’s a job.”

The conversation flowed awkwardly. It was almost as if they had to actively think of every question they were going to ask—preoccupied by other things. Eventually the three of you returned to the party happening downstairs. Elvis naturally drew the attention of everyone in the room. There was something different about him that you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but steal a glance whenever he wasn’t looking. He radiated a certain energy that drew you in and made you want to watch.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asked. He hadn’t left your side since you got there and upon hearing that he was going to get your things from the car you must’ve looked panicked. He took your face in his hands and searched your eyes for the answer but you smiled and tried to distract him with a kiss. He stopped you. “Tell me.”

“Nothing.” You were a terrible liar. “I’ll help you.”

“No,” He said quickly. “It’s fine. And you don’t have to stay down here, you can go up to the room if you want. They say we’re heading out sometime tonight.”

“‘Sometime tonight’ meaning…god knows when?”

“Pretty much.”He laughed before letting you go. “Head upstairs, I’ll be there in a minute.”

You watched him leave before going to find the elevator. You couldn’t breathe.

You found the room Elvis had reserved specifically for you and Joel. You were relieved to be alone in the silence, but you felt uneasy knowing that he was downstairs and he knew where you were. The hours passed and soon it was nearly three in the morning. You were exhausted but you couldn’t sleep if you tried. Joel hadn’t come up the entire night and you wanted to be angry but tried anyway to give him time to be around old friends. He was familiar with their grueling routine—you weren’t. When he did finally return you were on the brink of sleep.

“Come on, sugar, we’re heading out.”

“God, what time is it?”

“I don’t know…it’s early.”

You pushed yourself into a sitting position and eyed him suspiciously. “You’re drunk.”

He laughed but ultimately shook his head in denial. “I’m fine.”

“You left me up here all night,” You complained as you slipped your shoes on. “I couldn’t change my clothes or anything. You could’ve checked on me once.”

“Time got away,” He said, grabbing your purse and holding his hand out for you. “They’re waiting on us.”

“Can I get myself together for a minute?”

“You’re perfect, come on.”

You took his hand and let him lead you out of the room—smoothing the skirt of your dress as he dragged you along.

You leaned your head against the window the entire drive to Memphis. Elvis had offered to fly you out but Joel insisted on driving. The two of you had planned to go straight to Virginia to meet Bibby afterwards.

You passed the time by trying to keep your doom at bay.

#elvis presley #elvis imagine #elvis fluff #elvis smut #elvis x black reader #elvis x you #black reader #elvis presely smut #austin butler #the bikeriders

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skyscratch-wc · 1 month

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Skyfall: Warriors Names As Gaeilge!

So I posted about this before, but I am learning Irish/Gaeilge. I started for heritage/family reasons but now this language just has a death grip on me and won't let me go. I thought it would be fun to practice some vocab by translating some warrior names into Irish. So, for those who are interested in this very niche crossover, here are some of the main TPB skyfall rewrite characters as Gaeilge:

(KEY -> [Warrior Name]: [first name] = [Irish] (rough pronunciation in the Munster dialect), etc.)

(IMPORTANT PRONUNCIATION NOTE: the "ch" in Irish is a throaty sound... it's difficult to describe. Kinda like a softened "k" just farther back in your throat if that makes sense? "gh" is a guttural g sound in the same way as "ch" is. So, these combos of letters in my pronunciation guide are not pronounced the way English "ch" or "gh" would be. "dh" also makes a guttural sound)

Fireheart: fire = tine (tineh), heart = croí (kree) -> Croí na Tine (kree na tineh; literally "Heart of Fire")

Graystripe: gray = liath (leeah), stripe = stríoc (stree-ock) -> Stríoc Liath (stree-ock leeah; literally "Gray Stripe")

Ravenpaw: raven = fiach (fiach), lapa (lahpuh) -> Lapa Féich (Lahpuh Feech; literally "Raven's Paw" or "Paw of Raven")

Sandstorm: sand = gaineamh (gahniv), storm = stoirm (stirim) -> Stoirm Ghainimh (stirim ghahniv; literally "Storm of Sand" or "Sandstorm")

Tigerclaw: tiger = tíogar (teegur), crúb (croob) -> Crúb Tiogair (croob teegar; literally "Tiger's Claw")

Blueflame: blue = gorm (gorim), flame = lasair (lahsir) -> Lasair Ghorm (lahsir ghrim; literally "Blue Flame")

Yellowfang: yellow = buí (bwee), fang (same word as for "canine tooth") = starrfhiacail (stahr-ee-uh-cil) -> Starrfhiacail Bhuí (stahr-ee-uh-cil vwee; literally "Yellow Fang" or "Yellow Canine Tooth")

Spottedleaf: spotted = breac (brahk), leaf = duilleog (dilloog) -> Duilleog Bhreac (dilloog vrahk; literally "Spotted Leaf")

Stormstrike: storm = stoirm (stirim), strike = bualadh (booiladh) -> Bualadh Stoirme (booiladh stirime; literally "Strike of Storm", meant to be a reference to a lightning strike)

Silverstream: silver = airgid (airigid), stream = sruthán (shirhaahn) -> Sruthán Airgid (shirhaahn airigid; literally "Silver Stream")

Talltail: tall = ard (aard), tail = eireaball (air-uh-bull) -> Eireaball Ard (air-uh-bull aard; literally "Tall Tail")

Brokentail: broken = briste (brishtuh), tail = eireaball(air-uh-bull) -> Eireaball Briste (air-uh-bull brishtuh; literally "Broken Tail")

Cinderpelt: cinder = cnámhóg (knahvouge), pelt = finnoadh (fiona) -> Finnoadh na Cnámhóga (fiona na knah-vouguh; literally "pelt of cinders")

Whitestorm: white = bán (bohn), storm = stoirm (stirim) -> Stoirm Bhán (stirim vohn; literally "White Storm")

I'll probably do more of these in the future. I might take a crack at these in Spanish too eventually haha. It's fun to translate these.

Edit: thank you to @an-spideog who pointed out I missed a couple of séimhiú! They should be fixed now (both in the spelling and pronunciation).

#thank you for indulging my extremely niche crossover of interests lol #warrior cats #wc skyfall rewrite #wc skyfall au #gaeilge #irish language #as gaeilge #warrior names as gaeilge

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missywritesfor7 · 9 months

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❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

Next chapter | Masterlist

In the spirit of the season I thought I’d give the first chapter of this new fic to you all 🤗 I haven’t fully worked out the specific day, but I’ll be posting a chapter a week after the new year so stay tuned! 💜

Ch. 1: Love

Time seems slow when you’re in the middle of it. Even slower when you’re looking forward to something. Yoongi spent 21 months away from his home, his members, Army, his family, and his girlfriend who he had only been dating 3 short months before he had to leave.

Yoongi and Hyeri had known each other before, both being under Hybe as artists. Na Hyeri, stage name: Rainbow, began her idol career with a short lived girl group called Two Piece under a much smaller company. The group disbanded after just two mini albums, and a lot of attention thanks to their company infamously mishandling everything from money to the artist’s safety and well-being. When the smoke died down, Hyeri signed with Hybe as a solo artist and has made a name for herself in the few years since her solo debut.

She first met Yoongi when he produced a song that she performed for a tourism campaign. The song made waves across social media and beyond and Hyeri found herself gaining a mass of new fans. The first time they ran into each other after the campaign took off, Hyeri jokingly thanked Yoongi for the new fans. That turned into an hour long conversation that was the beginning of a new relationship.

After endless texts, phone calls, and sneaking to see each other around the company building whenever they could, they became official. To themselves mostly and close family and friends. Yoongi told the rest of the members and Hyeri told her best friends and former bandmates, Haeun and Minji. To the rest of the world they’re just label mates who worked on a song together.

Being under the same company made things easy. Moving in together 2 months later made things even easier. Yoongi’s enlistment however, made things harder.

For 21 months Hyeri lived alone waiting for Yoongi with the rest of the world. His few vacation times never seemed long enough and his discharge date seemed like it was centuries away.

Then he was back. And just like that those 21 months didn’t seem so bad after all. Things were as they had been before with all seven of them back together again.

Hyeri had begun taking more and more acting jobs so she was fairly busy, but always left a note and a snack for Yoongi when she’d leave before him. Other times she would give him a soft kiss when she’d come home late and find him already asleep. Yoongi always sent her a meal if she were home and he wasn’t. The nights he spent in his studio instead of home he would make up for with more gifts than necessary. Jewelry, stuffed animals, posters of himself, and the occasional pair of shoes despite him telling her he wouldn’t buy her shoes since she already has so many.

Once the group’s big post-military comeback had concluded, Yoongi felt truly happy. He was back with his brothers making music and seeing Army again, and he had his girlfriend by his side who he’s deeply in love with. All felt right in the world.

Yoongi had begun working on new music for the group’s upcoming full length album. He’s been in his studio much more instead of home, but it’s not too bad. Hyeri finished shooting her small parts in a drama she was cast in and had begun working on a couple of songs for the soundtrack. When she was done recording for the day, she would come by Yoongi’s studio and spend as much time there as she could since she knows he may not come home that night.

This day is like any other. Hyeri finished her final recording session and dropped by Yoongi’s studio with a dinner of his favorite cheat meal, noodles. They both sit on his couch eating, chatting, and cuddling a bit once they’ve cleared their bowls.

“I think this may have been my last recording session,” Hyeri says with her legs rested across Yoongi’s lap.

“So you’re really going to do it?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I know it’s going to suck and you’re going to hate it, but I just…” she pauses and looks up at his face. He may be expressionless, but she knows that’s just him trying to hide his disappointment.

“Hybe is more of a music company, you know that,” she continues. “I just really think I’ll have much better acting opportunities with JJS since they’re such a successful acting agency.”

JJS is one of the top entertainment agencies in the acting world. They house some of the best entertainers in the industry, from romance movie heartthrobs, variety show comedians who have become household names, and even action movie baddies. Hyeri had been looking into switching companies so that she can embark on her new career as a full time actress. She’s gotten a number of roles through Hybe already. Mostly a few commercials and a couple of small cameos in tv shows. For her, switching to JJS could mean finally getting her breakout opportunity to send her acting career soaring.

“I know we won’t get to see each other like this anymore,” she says. “But we’ll still see each other at home. Don’t be mad,” she pouts.

“I’m not mad,” Yoongi says caressing her leg. “I told you before I would support you no matter what you decide.”

“But you still don’t like it.”

“It’s fine. We’ll see each other at home, right?”

“We never see each other at home,” she pouts more.

“You just said…” he chuckles shaking his head and pulls her closer to him. “We’ll make it work. I want you to follow your dreams. Don’t hold yourself back because of me.”

“Are you sure you’re ok with it? Do you think it will make things hard?”

“Not as hard as me being away for 21 months,” he chuckles. “Trust me.”She nods and he gives her a reassuring kiss.

Hyeri goes back and forth on whether she’s making the right decision. Yoongi constantly tells her she is but she’s struggling to believe it. She spends less time in the company building since she’s not working on anything and will be leaving soon. That means she’s been home alone a lot. It’s nothing new to her, but she’s starting to realize how hard it may actually be. Especially when she starts working again.

Yoongi is the perfect support for her. He keeps her sane and assures her that he’ll stand by her no matter what she does or where she goes. Sure it will come with challenges, but he knows they can make it work.

Things start off fine. News of Hyeri signing with JJS was met with lots of support from her fans. She immediately landed a small supporting role in a movie and Yoongi couldn’t be happier for her.

Shooting on the movie began and that became the true test of their relationship. They rarely saw each other. When one of them would leave or come home, the other would be asleep. Yoongi would even spend less time in his studio so he could be home on the off chance that she gets there early. She never did and he would spend another night falling asleep alone.

It’s frustrating for them both to be so close yet so far from each other. Yoongi has completed the majority of his work on the songs for their new album. Even with endless recording and dance practices, he still can’t seem to find enough to do to keep his mind off of the empty space in his bed that smells like Hyeri.

They text when they can but it’s never enough. They miss each other and start to feel like they were able to talk to each other more when he was in the military. No matter how hard they try or how bad they want it, they can never seem to get their schedules to line up.

One day that finally changes. A month into Hyeri’s shoot, and about a month before Yoongi embarks on another BTS comeback era, they find an overlap in free time in their schedules. Yoongi had a gap in his schedule that gave him a bit of free time. He typically would spend that time in his studio. However, Hyeri had a last minute cancellation that gave her the rest of the evening off.

Yoongi only has an hour to see Hyeri so he rushes out and tells her to meet him at a nearby restaurant for dinner. He would rather see her at home so they can be in private, but the further he has to go, the less time that will leave him with Hyeri. He’s so desperate that he doesn’t want to lose a second.

Since time is limited and privacy is important, Yoongi chose a small snack food place that he and the members had been going to for many years. They always have a table in the back away from the public eye for them. It’s private enough and a quick meal.

Yoongi arrives at the restaurant first. He doesn’t have to wait long before Hyeri arrives, though to him it felt like hours. She looks around a moment then runs to give Yoongi a long kiss filled with so much pent up longing.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in years,” Hyeri says kissing him again.

“I missed you,” he says stealing one more kiss before she takes her seat across from him.

“I wish we had time but I’ll take this over nothing,” she says quickly scanning the menu. “There’s so much I want to tell you about the movie shoot! It’s been so much fun and everyone has been really cool. I really think I made the right choice. I just wish it didn’t keep me away from you so much.”

“I know, Bow,” he says, calling her by the shortened version of her stage name, Rainbow. “You’ll have more time once the shooting is done. Then even more time when you finish all the promos.”

“I know, baby, but aren’t you guys going on your world tour around the time I finish shooting? I know things haven’t been finalized yet, but we really wouldn’t have much time together before you’re off traveling the world.”

Yoongi knows she’s right and it breaks his heart to see the sadness in her eyes. Their server comes by to take their order before he can think of something to say to make her feel better.

After placing their order and sitting in silence a few moments, Yoongi reaches across the table and takes Hyeri’s small hands into his.

“I wish I could take you with me,” he says forcing a smile.

“I don’t know,” she chuckles trying to lighten the mood. “You might get sick of me then.”

“I won’t get sick of you,” he chuckles. “Even when you’re annoying, you’re still beautiful.”

“Are you trying to romance me, Mr. Min?” She jokes.

“I was only stating a fact,” he chuckles.

“Admit it, Yoon-gya, you like me,” she laughs calling him by the nickname that never fails to make him laugh.

When Hyeri first met Jin he was speaking so fast she could hardly understand him. When she heard him shout “Yoongi-ah” it sounded like “Yoon-gya” to her. After they began dating she asked Yoongi why Jin calls him “Yoon-gya”. Yoongi was confused at first, but once he realized what she was saying he never let it go. In return she calls him that whenever she’s messing with him.

“I love you,” he chuckles. “But still…you’ll wait for me, won’t you?”

“Of course I will, babe.” She shakes her head knowing he should know better. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s going to take more than an enlistment and a world tour to get rid of me.”

He gives her hands a light squeeze and flashes his gummy smile in happiness. Both of them are soaking up each other’s presence in this rare moment they have together. They continue talking about work and things they haven’t been able to tell through text. Their food arrives and they continue chatting as they eat.

That hour is much too short. It only felt like a few minutes to them, but they look and now it’s time for Yoongi to return to the office for his scheduled recording session. It’s hard for them to let each other go. They stand in front of the restaurant lingering a moment trying to find the courage to leave.

“I’ll try to stay up for you,” Hyeri says.

“Hopefully we can make it quick. I’ll come straight home once I’m done.” He reaches for her hand out of habit briefly forgetting that they’re out on the street. She doesn’t stop him though. She takes his hand for just a brief moment to feel his warmth a second longer, then let’s go.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she smiles. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he smiles.

They both head to their cars and go off their separate ways. They hate to leave after finally getting a moment of togetherness. That only gives Yoongi a much greater sense of urgency the rest of the evening.

When he returns to the studio it’s clear to everyone he’s trying to get things done quickly. He has no time for small talk or getting off track with mindless conversations. The sooner this is done the better.

“Hyung,” Jimin says exiting the recording booth. “Take it easy. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“She’s waiting for me,” Yoongi says with no further explanation.

“Ah,” Jimin nods. He knows exactly what Yoongi means. He knows what Hyeri means to Yoongi so he doesn’t need any further explanation. “Get in there and finish up then.”

Before Yoongi, Jimin is the last one to finish recording. Now that he’s done he switches places with Yoongi to help things move along faster. Jimin doesn’t mind staying a bit later so Yoongi can get home. It takes a little longer than Yoongi would like, but he finally finishes and rushes off to go home without giving Jimin a second look. Jimin follows him out and simply laughs to himself at how flustered his hyung is. He knows Yoongi is in deep.

Yoongi returns home at 1am hoping Hyeri is still awake. When he steps inside all of the lights are off and he fears he may be too late. That is, until he reaches the bedroom and he can hear the shower running.

Hyeri had just gotten in the shower after finishing a late meal. She was fighting her sleep in hopes that Yoongi would be home soon. She decided to hop in the shower in an attempt to stay awake just a little longer.

She leans her head back and closes her eyes as the water runs through her hair and down her back. The warm water is relaxing so she stands there not moving for a few moments. She takes a deep breath and just then she can feel a hand on her waist.

She opens her eyes to see Yoongi entering the shower and pulling her close to his bare body. She isn’t sure how he managed to get home and get undressed without her hearing a thing, but it doesn’t matter. She instantly wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

“I’m so glad you’re still awake,” Yoongi says in a low tone. “I feel like I haven’t gotten to hold you in way too long.”

“I know,” she says kissing him again. “I never knew I could miss you so much when we live together.”

He feels the same but rather than saying so, he pulls her in tighter for a heavier kiss. His hands trace every wet part of her body until he reaches between her legs and softly teases her clit. He lives for the breathy moan she lets out at the feeling of him. The sound he’s missed, the feel he’s missed, the taste he’s missed. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

He continues kissing her, slipping his tongue into her mouth and swallowing every sound of hers until he presses her back against the shower wall. His level of arousal is almost unbearable in this moment. So many missed connections and lonely nights are overflowing and poking her pelvis in the process.

“I love you so much, Bow,” he growls lifting her leg and wrapping it around his waist.

“I love you too, baby,” she whispers anticipating his entry that is much desired.

He presses her into the wall harder and takes his tongue on a tour of her neck and chest until he reaches her tits. He loves to see her like this. Melting in his arms and breathing heavily for what he’s about to give her.

He fills her up slowly sending waves of heat through her body until he can’t go any further. He pauses in place and stares her down. He could die in her big brown eyes that are staring up at him with lustful anticipation.

He starts slowly. Easing in and out of her delicately as if she were made of porcelain. In his mind she is. Right now, she’s his beautiful porcelain doll that he’ll never break.

“You feel so good,” he whispers taking her lips again.

She tightens her hold around his neck and arches her back pressing her chest into him more. It’s her silent way of telling him she wants it faster and harder. She wants his love to break her.

He takes the hint and picks up speed while pressing her harder against the shower wall. Her unsteady breaths fuel his powerful strokes more and more. Her moans sing a song that he’ll never get tired of. He can feel that overwhelming pressure within him getting closer to exploding out of every part of him.

The way her nails dig into the back of his neck lets him know she’s just about to lose it. He’s just about to lose it. Her pussy tightens around him sucking his oxygen out.

He growls at her, becoming more relentless and desperate with each stroke.

“I love you so fucking much,” she pants.

The rhythm of his hips sends her over the moon. Her nails dig deeper into his skin as she searches for some bit of stability. He lets out a deep purr when his muscles start to tense and his vision begins to fade.

“I love you,” she repeats kissing his neck. She continues to hang on to him until his hips slow to a stop and his purrs decrease to heavy breaths.

“I love you too, Hyeri,” he says once he has his voice back.

He slides out of her and kisses her softly. She lowers her leg from around his waist and smiles up at him.

“I don’t think I’ll have trouble falling asleep tonight,” she says.

“Good,” he says nipping at her bottom lip. “You only have about three hours before you have to leave.”

“Perfect,” she sarcastically huffs dreading her very early call time that she could have been well rested for had she not stayed up waiting for Yoongi. “I guess I should get to bed then.”

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everythingne · 6 months

Text

Out Of The Woods, 6 (ls2)

Logan and Dhanishka finally have the necessary breakthrough, Olivia delivers some bad news that Dhanishka already has a backup plan for. Logan just has a really good time at the end.

warnings/notes: panic attack in the beginning, mentions of alcohol, i don’t really think much else? ok i KNOW viscaal is an actual dude but like. i forgot. so just imagine he has a brother or smthn idk. bit shorter but hey. this is for logan bc fuck williams man

(series masterlist) (ch 7)

“Isa!”

I, despite my best efforts, cannot get a solid breath in. Someone's hands are on my face, trying to rouse me from whatever's got my eyes squeezed shut. I gasp again and they're brushing tears off of my cheeks. When I hold my breath, choking on an inhale, the voice is panicked, telling me to breathe. Then blowing a gust of air on my face.

Somehow the air is what snaps my eyes open.

"Christ, Isa." Logan's saying, holding a phone to his ear as he presses my hair down with one hand, "hey, hey, it's okay..."

"Lo-Logan?" I rasp and he nods, a tiny, worried smile crossing his face as he turns to the phone and speaks in a hushed tone.

"I've got her, thanks Anya. I'll text you when I get her in bed."

When he puts his phone down, he hands me a water bottle but holds the bottom of it as I take small slow sips and try not to burst into tears yet again. He doesn't say anything, not even when I lower my hand from where it's been resting over his thudding heart.

"You called my sister?" I ask and he pauses, before nodding.

"Yeah. I figured Anya would know how to help you out of a panic attack." He says and I nearly choke on my water.

"I had a panic attack?" I ask and he stills, before he is everything around me. His hands are gentle, tucking me against his chest, one hand carding through my hair as the other holds me tight.

“Oh, Isa—“ He murmurs into my hair. I whisper out confusion, I had a panic attack? I never have panic attacks? Is that why I blacked out? When did he get here?

“Oh, Isa, I’m so sorry they’ve turned you into me.” Logan presses his hands to either side of my face, lifting me back so I can look at him. I remember how a week ago I was afraid of loving him, how I was terrified I'd lose him, and yet here he was as stubborn and comforting as always. As he had been in China. As he had been in Miami. As he now was in Imola.

"I can't do this Logan." I hiccup, letting him bring me into his arms once more, kisses trailing my forehead as he keeps me locked in tight, "I can't take another day of this comparing bullshit! They hate me, all of them in Ferrari. I don't even know if I still have Charles, and they keep pushing and pushing and I just wanna be good!"

"You are good. You are so good." He murmurs, "You're doing better than I did my first season. I had panic attacks almost every race, I still have them sometimes."

When I look at him in disbelief he sighs, "the difference between us is that you have Ferrari and I have Williams. Alex and I are actually cared for within Williams. They care about our health, our wellbeing. Ferrari always has and always will put you below Charles because he's the predestined or whatever. It's stupid. It's what drove Carlos out according to Oscar, who heard it from Lando so who knows--but my point still stands."

I sniffle, nodding, wiping at my face and huffing when I realize I had cried. Logan convinces me to swap seats with him, and he drives us back to the hotel. He follows the same procedures as he had with my migraine and we settle in to watch Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara-- one of my favorite Bollywood movies I'd forced him to watch with me before. Surprisingly, he remembers a lot of it and then embarrassedly admits,

"We watched it on your birthday every year, I kept up the tradition. Even though Dalton thought it was stupid I did that."

I can't help but kiss him then, fully of my own decision and his hands comes to my waist as he pulls me down to slot against him. I throw my right leg over when he bites my lip, groaning in the back of my throat. The Señorita scene is playing from his laptop, Hrithik Roshan is dancing his heart out, Logan's lips are soft against mine.

He pulls back.

"What are we doing?" He whispers, pausing Netflix by closing his laptop and leaving us in the soft ambient glow of Imola from the half curtained windows.

"What do you mean?" I say, because I know theres more weight behind his words. He just laughs when I press a kiss to his forehead, his arm secure around my waist like he never wants to let me go. I don't want him to.

"Do you love me?" Its so vulnerable it makes me stop and he brings his hand to my throat, but just to dance his finger tips along the side of my jaw until he takes my chin in his hand and pull me a bit closer.

"Because I've always loved you in the way soulmates love each other, but I think you love me like I'm just a casual fuck."

"If you always loved me like that why'd you break up with me?" I ask and Logan sighs, letting go of my chin to place his hand on one of my thighs, the right one I had thrown over his torso when the kisses got a bit more than playful.

Logan takes a long moment to answer, like he's picking each word with the upmost care, but he just says, "I was scared."

"Scared?"

"Of you. Of racing. Of everything." He sighs and I go to slide off his lap when his fingers dig in, keeping me rooted in my seat. Just like earlier, when he was calming me in the car, just like when he had eased my migraine. He needed me.

I card my hands through his hair, being them to his shoulders and smooth the tenseness I can feel. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back as he just lets everything finally break and he hands my his heart once more.

This time, I cradle it to my chest, trying to heal it while his heart tries to smooth out the sharp edges of mine.

"I had been doing so well. I had everything in my finger tips, just within reach and then... fucking Trident rips it out from underneath my feet. I didn't know what to do, and as far as I was concerned, you were just as guilty as everyone else. I... I needed control."

I had been right when I guessed that?

"And control was breaking up with me because it was a decision you could make without having to consult anyone else?" I say and he nods.

"I regretted it every day after. There were so many times my mom had to stop Dalton from calling you or Anya." A light smile crosses his lips and I giggle, taking the hint of his slight pursed lips to press a gentle kiss to them.

"Anya was so mad at you when we broke up, she told me she was gonna go to BWT and cut your brakes." I murmur against his lips and he starts to laugh, his hands slide up to rest along my ribs as he smiles against my lips and innocent pecks.

"I wouldn't have been mad if she had. I beat myself up over it for weeks." Logan shrugged, "but uhm... I talked with Viscaal last week. He was at the race for some sponsorship thing and he stopped to congratulate me on my placement. I asked him of you were involved and he and I talked about the crash for a long time."

"And?"

"And he convinced me you weren't."

The conversation hadn't been easy. Viscaal was sort of up in arms about the idea of even discussing it with Logan, but once let in on the PR nightmare the two were going through... he relented. But he wasn't easy on Logan, he hadn't been the whole time they stood in the blistering sun over the track.

"She literally was inconsolable, how do you think she had anything to do with it?" James Viscaal had said to Logan, eyes narrowing underneath his Formula E cap, "You seriously think Dubey had anything to do with it? She'd rather hurt herself than hurt you."

"I just... I can't shake the feeling--"

"Well you better figure out how, Sargeant, or you're gonna lose a perfectly good girl."

Logan sighs as he replays the conversation two or three times, then gnaws the inside of his lip before saying, "Sorry for saying that shit to you, about not trusting you... it was childish."

"I said stupid shit too, I'm sorry." I say and he presses a more firm kiss to my lips.

"Consider that an apology accepted." He says and I smile,

"Guess I'll have to keep apologizing--" I'm cut off when he sits up abruptly, pulling me to his chest just to lay me on my back under him as he cages me beneath him.

My phone vibrates. A few missed calls from Charles. I ignore him in favor of kissing my boyfriend.

I'll tell him I was sleeping.

Monaco is the race for publicity. Everyone knew Monaco, and if they didn't, they just didn't know it was called Monaco. I'm snuck into Williams the day before practice, when it's mostly just vendors setting up and some meetings happening in each paddock. I'm led by Logan to a back office, where I meet with two women, and JAmes Vowles.

Who... is sitting in on the PR meeting for some reason?

The woman who leads Logan's PR is named Astrid Marina, and while I fight to figure out while that name is familiar, Logan idly pokes at my leg. I look over to read what he's showing me and groan internally.

'Ferrari and Williams in talks over suing Sky News reporter Anthony Davis for blackmailing and harassment.'

"Too much is happening this season, I don't even wanna bother." I complain and Logan nods, coaxing me to rest against him as I yawn. It's been a long week of harrowing, exhausting training with Charles. Ferrari gives me no reprieve and as I work to show them I am a capable driver, they still beat me down. Still say Charles is better. It's grown to be annoying for both me and the Monegasque, and something we bond over now in the late hours between a bottle of wine.

"How has your season been with Ferrari so far, Dhanishka?" James asks and I give him a cordial answer that has him raising an eyebrow in question as he says, "Logan's told me otherwise."

I whack Logan's arm, making the Floridian laugh as he raises his hands in defense of his actions. Something in James' eyes tells me it’s alright to say, so I do.

"It's been a terrible time if I'm honest," I sigh, "Charles is praised, I'm ignored and blamed for every mistake, they barely talk to me on radios so I kinda have to figure it all out myself, I'm hardly given real strategy and kinda just make it up myself as I go."

"And with all of that you still place in the top ten every race, and have podiumed twice. That's an incredible feat, Miss Dubey, you should be very proud of yourself."

Somehow, James saying that to me makes it all click that, yeah, it was an incredible feat.

"Alright, Jasmine is here so lets get started." Astrid settles in her seat in front of us and Logan and I sit back up from our lazing positions as Jasmine--my PR manager of several years, takes her own seat next to Astrid. James leans back in his seat as well, taking on a more observing role to this. I wonder if its because he's worried about this, or if Olivia and Lando have told him to keep an eye on it. Not that they knew who Logan's manager was, as far as I was aware.

Jasmine shuffles her papers a bit before asking, "How are you both feeling? You're almost tied for points this season."

"Feeling pretty optimistic." Logan smiles softly in greeting to her, "The car has been preforming well and I've been doing better than where I started last year."

"I'd be a lot better is my damn car worked half the time." I mutter in complaint, making Logan laugh softly as he squeezes my knee.

"I'm glad you both are feeling better." Astrid smiles, "but lets not take up too much time here for small talk, you both have busy days tomorrow."

Yay. Qualifying.

"Dhanishka, social media is your forte here. Keep posting, keep promoting the relationship. You've been doing a fine job with that. Public appearances have been fine, though I've noticed a bit of tension? Is there anything we want to confirm or ask about..?"

"How long is this going on for?" Logan asks and I feel a weird pain settle in my chest. Why did he care?

"Uhm... well..." Jasmine hums, "I'd say you guys can decide when to call it off. Astrid wanted to make sure that, unlike with Lando and Olivia previously, you both have complete control of this situation."

"Oh, Dhanishka, work on befriending some of the WAGs. I know you and Olivia are decently close, but befriending the Lily's or even Carmen would be a good look." Astrid says and I nod, opening my phone to follow them on Instagram. I was already close with Lily Zneimer, she just needed to come to a race other than Australia.

"Logan, we need you to start posting Dhanishka as well." Astrid says and Jasmine nods softly, looking like she's a bit uncomfortable by how strict Astrid is being.

"Yeah, got it." Logan nods. Theres a few more formalities, some publicity things they want us to do and a joint 'couples trivia' gave they want us to play with a bunch of the drivers before the next race on the calendar.

We're dismissed with the promise of posting each other more on social media.

"Lets go to dinner tonight." He says, taking my hand in his and kissing the back of it. I smile and bump his shoulder with mine.

"Alright." I smile, its easy to be in love with Logan and he threads out fingers together and presses a soft kiss to the back of my hand.

Before I can leave though, James speaks, "Jasmine, Dhanishka, can we speak privately? I have Dhanishka's manager Lucille inside my office already.

And I nod, and follow James into his office after a quick goodbye kiss from Logan with his playful grin to match.

dhanishkadubey made a new post!

liked by alexalbon, lilymhe, lilyzneimer, and 459k others...

dhanishkadubey: the muse and her artist 💙🩵

tagged: logansargeant

lilymhe: blue suits u sooo much wow

logansargeant: sei incredibilmente bella (i think.)

⤷ charlesleclerc: you think right?? wtf??

user1: MY PARENTS. PARENNNTTSSSS.

logansargeant: you in blue... woof or whatever. xx

anyadubey: blue has ALWAYS been ur color.

user2: dhanishka in blue?? williams dhanishka?? please james vowles.

williamsracing: wow. logan better know how to fight.

⤷ logansargeant: which intern is this i have WORDS.

⤷ williamsracing: LOL CATCH ME FIRST FLORIDA MAN !!!

landonorris: LOGAN TOOK THESE???

⤷ dhanishkadubey: hes an artist ✨

user3: oh to be someones muse...

I'm walking through the apartment building Lando had sent me the address for ages ago. Logan's hand is firmly tucked in mine as he idly talks about the desserts we'd brought for the little dinner we're all having tonight. Olivia had invited over quite a few people, her family (consisting of Oscar and Lily, Ophelia and her wife Rosalind, and Oaklynn), Lando's siblings, (sisters Cisca and Flo, brother Oliver with his wife Savannah and their daughters Mila and Athena), Max, Kelly, and Penelope, Alex and Lily, Charles, and me and Logan. It was some sort of dinner party, and due to Logan's training running a bit long we were late.

Which, wasn't surprising.

Olivia said they'd be out on the balcony, so we let ourselves into the spacious apartment. Logan helping me with my shoes while I joke about balancing the three plates, but Charles cursing in Italian sharply makes us both freeze.

"Relax." Olivia scolds, almost like a mother, "she's gonna be fine, I've been in talks with multiple teams and--"

"They're just dropping her?! For Lewis? She's been beating him every damn race save for Australia!" Charles all but roars and I can hear the balcony door slam. Logan tenses, his jaw setting firmly and he tries to coax me back outside but I'm stubborn, I won't move until I know whats wrong. But I have a gut feeling I already know.

"Charles, calm down," Olivia tries again and then there's an overlap of a few voices I can't fight through.

"It's nothing set in stone! Relax!" Max's voice chimes above everyone else's and the room quiets as a soft sigh escapes Logan's mouth. He draws his arm across my back and hushes me softly, pressing a kiss to my hairline.

"Checo's moving to Formula E. I'm taking his spot next season, or I'll go to RB if they choose to move Daniel instead." Alex says softly, "which means Red Bull is set for next season regardless. Mercedes is taking Carlos to race with George, so they're set as well."

"McLaren's got me and Lando, so they're set. Neither Haas or Aston Martin are gonna change." Oscar sighs, "safe bet that Alpine and Sauber will stay the same too."

Max asks, "Is Logan staying with Williams?"

"Can we stop talking about this, they'll be here soon. Dhanishka doesn't even know yet." Olivia complains, "I don't know why you're all so surprised when Ferrari's been treating her like shit! They could care less if she's dead or alive on that track as long as Charles comes out on top. Plus, the FIA is going to investigate them for malpractice."

"Oh, actually?" Lando hums and I hear Charles confirm, and I bury my head against Logan's chest where I can hear his heart pounding. I'm trying to fight back the sense of dread forming in my gut.

"I know Logan's been trying to get her to talk with James." Alex says softly, "As far as I'm aware, Williams is resigning him with the second seat open."

Logan's grip tightens when he realizes I've figured it out and I push past him to enter the main room of the Piastri-Norris apartment. The warm Monaco air feels unwelcome as it floats in from the open balcony door where I can see the kids are being preoccupied from the inside argument. But inside, all the drivers plus Olivia stare at me like I'm not supposed to be there. And then theres movement and--

"Dhaniska!" Olivia's voice chimes and the Aussie to wrap me up tight in her arms, "Oh, honey."

"They're dropping me?" I hate the way my voice sounds so broken and despite what I want, Olivia nods.

"Last week I got both Daniel's and Alex's data from last season to sift through to help the Red Bull team figure out which driver we want next season." She starts to explain, running her fingers through my hair, "I knew some big changes were happening when we also got files for Lewis and Fernando. But.. Lewis just announced he was racing with Ferrari next season, while Charles was here. No one knew except Lewis and Vasseur. I-I can try and get you with some other teams but--"

"Olivia, I love you truly, but that's not your job." I say softly, squeezing her forearms, "A-and besides, I... I might've made a contingency plan."

The whole room pauses.

"Huh?" Logan says, tightening his grip on my wrist and I laugh. It's so stupid, how he thought his and Alex's little plan to have me replace the latter Thai driver would've gone overlooked by James. Who bit down at the chance to have me.

James pulled me and Jasmine into his office, my manager Lucie already inside. When I give a confused look, both women are motioning for me to sit in the middle of three chairs. Lucie on my left, Jasmine on my right. When I do, James takes a seat at his desk and hands me a file in the beautiful William's blue. The logo stamped on front, with words written under that make my heart pause.

'DUBEY CONTRACT DRAFT 1 - 2025'

"Dhanishka." Lucie starts, placing a reassuring hand on my knee as she sets down an identical folder, "Ferrari isn't going to renew your contract next year. I've known since Miami. Lewis is coming to race for them instead, which I thought I'd be more surprised about, but it is close to his retirement I suppose."

"He did always say he'd retire in a Ferrari." James nods, and the conversation continues, still led by Lucie.

"So, I've been in talks with almost every team--thanks to Olivia, who has an almost... deus ex machina power within F1. She got me write up contracts from Mercedes, Alpine, RB, and Stake... but they've all backed out."

James, taking this as his cue, sits forward, "Williams is going to need a driver next year. Alex is moving to one of the Red Bull teams. We'll be resigning Logan."

"Me?" I ask, "you seriously want me? The girl who almost destroyed one of your drivers PR?"

"PR is repairable," James waves a hand, "Your skill on the track is something I can relate to a young Alonso or even someone like Senna or Vettel. It's talent like yours, Charles' and Max's we wont get again soon. To podium on your first race, to stay consistently in the top ten with no support? That's unheard of."

"Williams is offering a three year contract." Lucie says and I finally thumb open the folder and stare down at it. The weight of it all becomes real when I see it all printed out.

James stands to leave as he says, "I'll leave you to speak in private."

So I can’t hide my smile as I announce, "You are looking at the second seat for Williams in 2025!"

I don’t think in my time of knowing Logan had he ever hugged me as tight as this. I can’t help but laugh as his chest presses to my back, his lips finding my cheek and undoubtedly smudging my makeup. I can’t find it in me to care.

Alex decides to make a show of giving me his seat (which includes him physically handing me a chair) and when I turn to hug Olivia and Lando in celebration, Olivia whispers to me, “I knew you guys would figure it out.”

Charles just about squeezes the life out of me with his hug, thanking me for driving with him, and I thank him for teaching me. I know later on we’ll have a more in depth conversation but for now he allows me to celebrate with Logan’s arm tucked firmly around my waist.

Kelly ends up pouring us all shots to celebrate, and when I smidge my lipstick drinking various glasses of champagne and other drinks, Logan fishes my compact and my lipstick out of my purse.

It feels full circle to have him hold the mirror while I fix myself up.

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logansargeant: heres to second chances 💙

dhanishkadubey: AAAA MERI JAANNN <333

- logansargeant: MERI JAAN????

- dhanishkadubey: YEAH U FUCKING COLONIZER. MERI JAAN.

sebvettel: looking good rookies 👍🏻

user1: dhanishka in blue pls be a sign. pls.

dhanishkadubey: i am going to kiss u on the mouth

user2: the girlfriend effect on logans insta shut upp

oscarpiastri: loganishka since day 1

- dhanishkadubey: LOGANISHKA. IS THAT OUR SHIP NAME SHUT UP!!!

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f1: Admist the starting investigation into malpractice within Ferrari's team following @ dhanishkadubey ‘s treatment over the past few months, Dubey released a statement about leaving the team.

“Ferrari was a dream, but the reality of Ferrari is that we are not compatible. I will continue to give my best performance for the team, wish them the best of luck next season, and send my love to the tifosi. Thank you for welcoming me.” - Dubey via Twitter this morning.

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taglist (open, and thank you to those on it now!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia @daemyratwst

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula one fanfiction #logan sargeant social media au #logan sargeant smau #logan sargeant fanfiction #ls2 fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #nicole wrote this

50 notes · View notes

atinyjules · 7 months

Text

Broken Melodies : Fake or True ft. Lee Jeno {ch-5}

A/n: Welcome to chapter 5! The story has been going pretty well so far! I hope it remains that way ✨

Sooo here it iss ✨

There is something wrong with the taglist I created so for now I can't do a taglist but I'll try to fix the problem as soon as I can.

The mini - masterlist for this series can be found here

Jeno's

It's been officially one week. One week of suffering. We're trying to keep the fake relationship as discreet as possible cause, well, acting all lovey dovey infront of our family and gang members is bad enough. I don't want to have to act like that in college as well. But I've got to say, both at school and at home, the environment has changed a lot. It's a lot calmer and peaceful.

"But then again...Jaemin returns to school next month." I mumbled as I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

Na Jaemin, the sole reason why I have a bad reputation at school. I never met someone as annoying and insufferable as him. Sure, Eunbi is annoying as well but she's sufferable to some extent but her brother is anything but that.

I sighed and got up, running my fingers through my hair.

"How long do I have to keep faking this relationship?" I mumbled and fell to the bed again, closing my eyes.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at the hair pin that sat on my study table. Smiling slightly, I close my eyes again as the image of a certain girl floods my mind.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Eunbi's

"Are you sure it doesn't hurt?" I asked as Jaemin smirked and stretched his body.

"My body is as smooth as butter. Don't worry, I'll be fine." he insisted as I sighed.

"Whatever you say douchebag." I say as he smacks the back of my head.

"Have some respect towards your brother will you?" he said making me shrug when I spotted a pretty hair clip.

"Oohh~ this is pretty, who's is it?" I asked, holding it as Jaemin looked away and focussed his eyes at the scenery from his window instead with a smile.

"Someone." He said making me nudge his shoulder with my shoulder.

"Someone huh? Is it your crush?" I asked in a teasing tone as he took the hair clip and let himself fall to his bed. He smiled and held the hair clip close to his heart.

"You could say that. Although, you might know her." he said making me plop on his bed beside him.

"What's her name??" I asked as he chuckled.

"Dong Xiaolian." he said with tenderness and adoration laced in his tone.

"Oh-she's part of the ballet team. Ay, nice choice! She's really pretty...why don't you date her?" I say as he chuckles and sits up, hand coming to pat my head.

"If I could, I would've by now." He says making me furrow my brows.

"Then why didn't you?" I ask as he just chuckles.

"I'm not really an ideal person for someone like her." he says making me scoff.

"If that's so, why don't you change?" I say as he sighs.

"It's easier said then done, now, get out. I'm going out to get some things for class next week." he said, pushing me out of his room and locking it.

Dong Xiaolian...if I'm not mistaken...Jeno always looks at her during class

I shrug and get ready to go out with Renjun and Hyuck.

"So, how is the fake dating treating you so far?" Renjun asked as I groaned. Although dad warned me not to tell anyone I couldn't help but tell the boys, they're my only friends so it wouldn't hurt to tell them. Besides, they'll never tell a soul.

"I don't know. I mean he's doing his part well but as soon as the people disappear it's back to same old mean Jeno." I say as Hyuck nods.

"I mean he does hate relationships." Hyuck said as I sighed.

"I don't know." I say as Renjun thinks for a second.

"You're not starting to like him are you." Renjun asks making me choke on my drink.

"No! Why would I ever?!" I exclaim as Haechan smirks.

"You never knoww~" Hyuck says making me smack his arm.

"I just figured since you seem like you're enjoying it." Renjun said as I cleared my throat.

"Not him, but maybe I'm just kind of open to the idea of being in a relationship." I say as they nod.

"It does seem fun you know...to be in a relationship and being in love." Renjun said as Hyuck agreed.

"It must feel nice to be in love and be loved." he says as I nod.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Jeno's

Jaemin came back today and so far, I've been successful in avoiding him. Today just felt like a nice day and I didn't want Na Jaemin to destroy it.

"You're being secretive today."I turned to see Eunbi who had an amused expression on her face.

"What do you want?" I asked as she sighed.

"I saw some of your dad's men lurking around the school so I just came to alert you." she said in a bored tone as I saw a figure from the back of my eyes.

"What are you doing?" I asked as she sat down on the grass next to me.

"Is it a crime to sit with my...boyfriend?" she says as I try not to cringe.

"No...come here." I say and wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to me.

We just silently stay in that position until the coast is clear. Eunbi looks around only to jolt and get up.

"Jaem!" she exclaimed making me widen my eyes as I quickly turned around to see Jaemin glaring at me. I get up only to be shoved to the ground by Jaemin.

"Jaem! Stop!" Eunbi exclaimed while trying to pull her brother away from my frame.

"The fuck are you doing to my sister?!" Jaemin exclaimed, punching me as I groaned and tried to get him off.

"What else?! Spending time with her!" I exclaimed and pushed him away from me as I got up and stood next to Eunbi.

"Yahh! Stop this! We're seeing each other!" Eunbi exclaimed and stood in front of me as Jaemin froze and looked at her in disbelief.

"You're what?" he asked as she walked towards him and stood infront of her brother.

"You deaf? He's my boyfriend." she said making Jaemin laugh.

"He's trying to fool you. He always plays around with girls feelings, treats them like his toys!" Jaemin exclaimed making me pull Eunbi behind me and face Jaemin.

"Well, not her. I'm seeing your sister and if you have a problem why don't you fucking try me?" I said in a low tone, eyes burning into his.

Ooh, finally some drama😩

That's it for this chapter ✨

I hope you liked it 💖✨

You can find Chapter 6 here

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 💖✨

#kpop #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop ff #kpop masterlist #nct dream #kpop fics #nct dream fluff #nct dream masterlist #nct #nct dream gang au #nct gang au #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct dream jeno x reader #jeno x fem oc #spotify #nct dream series #nct dream series masterlist

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salanaii · 3 months

Text

Learn Korean with me - Week 28

Day 1 - 3: Let's Speak Korean Ch 8 - Visa & Immigration (31 - 62)

** Don't forget your journals and of course Netflix.

공증을받아야합니다.

Gong jeung eur bad a y ani da

You need to have it notarized.

인터뷰를해야합니다.

In teo byu reur hae yah ab ni da

You need to do an interview.

변호사가동행해도되나요?

Byeong ho sa ga haeng hae do doe nay a

Can a lawyer/attorney accompany me?

귀화를신청하고싶습니다.

Gwi hwa reur sin cheong ha sip seub ni da

I’d like to file (for) naturalization.

귀화절차는어떻게되나요?

Gwi hwa jeor cha neu neo tteoh ge doe nay o

What’s the process (for) naturalization?

이중국적이허용되나요?

I jong gug jeog I heo yong doe nay o

Is dual citizenship allowed?

여권이만료되었어요.

Yeo gwin I man ryo doe eoss eo yo

(My/Your) passport has expired.

사진이필요합니다.

Sa jin I pir yo hab ni da

You need a photo.

수수료가얼마죠?

Su su ryo ga eor ma jyo

How much is the fee?

검색대를통과해야합니다.

Geom seag dae reur tong gwa hae yah ab ni da

You need to go through the scanner.

소지품은여기에맡기세요.

So ji pum eun yeo gi e mat gi se yo

Please leave (your) belongings here.

나가실때찾으세요.

Na ga sir ttae cha jeu se yo

Find them (pick them up) when you leave.

함께들어가도되나요?

Ham gge deur eo ga do doe nay o

Can I go in together?

서류가처리되었습니다.

Seo ryu ga cheo ri doe eoss seub ni da

Documents have been processed.

승인/거절되었습니다.

Seung in/geo jeor doe eoss seub ni da

It’s been approved/rejected (=denied).

한국에서하시는일이뭐죠?

Han gug e seo ha si neun ir I mwo jyo

(Literal)What is the work you do in Korea?

어디에서일하고계시죠?

Eo di e seo ir ha go gye si jyo

Where are (you) working at?

한국에얼마나머무실예정인가요?

Han gug e eor ma na mu sir ye Jeong in ga yo

How long do you plan to stay in Korea?

면세한도를초과한물품이있나요?

Myeon se han do reur cho gwa han mur pum I iss nay o

Do you have items that are over the customs limit?

금지된품목이있나요?

Geum ji doen pum mog I iss nay o

Do you have prohibited items?

한국방문목적이어떻게되시죠?

Han gug bang mun mog jeog I eo tteoh ge doe si jyo

What’s the purpose (of your) visit (to) Korea?

한국에서는어디에머무르시죠?

Han gug e seo neu neo di e meo mu reu si jyo

(At) where are you staying in Korea?

관광목적으로왔습니다.

Gwan gwang mog jeog eu row ass seub nl da

I came for the purpose (of) sightseeing.

한국호텔에머무릅니다.

Han gug ho ter e meo mu reub ni da

I’m staying at Hanguk hotel.

짐은이게전부입니다.

Jim eun I ge jeon bu ib ni da

This is all (for my) baggage.

홍대에서공부하고있습니다.

Hong dae e seo gong bu ha go iss seub ni da

I’m studying at Hangdae.

약6개월머무를예정입니다.

Yag 6 gae wor meo mu reur ye Jeong ib ni da

I plan to stay (for) about 6 months.

보증인의편지입니다.

Bo jueng in pyeon ji ib ni da

(This) is a letter (from my) guarantor.

2차심사실로가주세요.

2 cha sim sa sir ro ga ju se yo

Please go to the secondary screening room.

이제다되셨습니다.

I je da doe syeoss seub ni da

(Literal) It’s all set now.

가보셔도좋습니다.

Ga bo syeo do joh seub ni da

(Literal) It’s fine for you to go. =You may go now./You are good to go.

즐거운여행되세요.

Jeur geo un yeo haeng doe se yo

Have a pleasant trip.

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wastemanjohn · 1 year

Note

You KNEW my prompt was gonna include pregnancy lmao but I’m gonna say samdean accidental pregnancy — your choice if Dean or Deanna, your choice which season but I wanna see Dean(na) confessing to Sam that s/he’s knocked up!

here you go mate <3 (sorry for sneaking my deanna and david bowie headcanon in here but i had reason to believe you wouldn't mind xD - and exploring this pushed me nicely out of my comfort zone so thank you for the prompt!)

The skies over the salvage yard are pink with shepherd's delight clouds. The evening breeze has a little bite, and the air smells like rotting oil and dead leaves. The latter scent is one Sam associates with shoplifting school supplies, with the good coffee shops opening up on campus again. It's an awkward nostalgia, but it comes to him anyway as he buttons up his shirt for warmth and makes a start on staking out the boulevard of broken cars, armed with two bottles of El Sol and a mental note of all the phrases he's learned not to say. Deanna's gotta be out here somewhere.

The thing is, Sam thinks as he passes the nearly restored Impala, it had seemed like his sister was doing a little better. She's still sharp tongued and irritable, but she's not been spending 12 hours a day doing god knows what under that hood. She's been hanging out with Sam and Bobby more in the evenings, not really saying much, but sometimes she smiles with her whole face at something someone says, and Sam's always a little surprised at the force of his relief. She's even been talking a bit about getting out on the road again, even if she never directly mentions Dad; but Sam's caught her quietly leafing through his journal now and then lately. Not that he's said anything about it, because that's just asking for trouble; and anyway, regardless of any improvement, Sam still has no idea what's going on in Deanna's head, really. She feels very far away.

She went out this afternoon. For hours. Didn't say where she was going; but it's got to be the first time she's left Bobby's place in weeks. She left her phone behind on the nightstand, in this way that Sam couldn't help but suspect was intentional, because there had to be something about that; had to be something in the way Deanna caught Sam's eye through the window as she was coming back, coming all slow down the path with Dad's jacket over her shoulders and this tight expression on her face. Something in the way Deanna had sharply changed direction at the sight of him, veering off until she faded into the salvage yard and Sam couldn't see her anymore. And it's not that Sam meant to be hovering near the front of the house at the exact moment of her return like a worried parent, but shit happens.

Let her be, son, Bobby had said, without looking up from his scotch and that leatherbound demonology book he'd been annotating all day. Harder you push, the more she's gonna clam up.

It bothers Sam when Bobby talks like that, like he knows Deanna better than Sam does or something. As for letting her be - well, if Bobby knows Sam at all, he's got a strange way of showing it.

As Sam goes deeper into the yard, he can hear music. Tinny, faint; but Sam recognizes David Bowie. He spent enough time being subjected to every single tape the guy ever made, even the really out there ones, over and over again as a kid to know that voice anywhere. That had been one of Deanna's more intense phases. Sam thinks she finds him comforting now, maybe; familiar, well worn, like an old blanket. She'd deny that, of course, the way she always denies shit that she thinks sounds girly, or maybe just vulnerable - but it hadn't been lost on Sam over the past year, how Deanna would play those tapes during nearly every overnight drive they took. Her hands always a little too tight on the steering wheel, Dad's unknown whereabouts breathing down the backs of their neck like a spirit.

Sam follows that bustling piano, ch-ch-changes, until he finds his sister. She's sitting on the floor, leaning against the dented door of an eighties truck with a mangled hood. The windows are down. The music is coming from inside.

Dad's jacket is so big over Deanna's shoulders. It practically drowns her, looks kind of ridiculous, if Sam were to be mean about it; still smells like Dad's cigarettes. Deanna doesn't look up, when Sam approaches, but she doesn't hide her face or snipe at him to fuck off either. Which means this is already going well.

"Hey." Sam says it cautiously. "What are you doing out here?"

Her eyes roll up at him. "Making bacon and eggs, jackass. What's it look like I'm doing?"

Sam doesn't know, actually. Still, he takes the sarcasm on the chin. He holds one of the beer bottles out to Deanna; she glances at it, then shakes her head.

It surprises Sam, but he doesn't push. "You look like crap," he offers.

Deanna snorts. "Well. Don't you know how to make a girl feel special."

There's no bite in it. That tells Sam they're okay. She does, though; look like crap, that is. Tired; washed out. She's been sleeping in the day a lot. Bobby says it's the grief, that she needs it. Sam could believe that. He wonders, though, if Bobby's heard Deanna throwing up in the night lately. Not just one of her tactical upchucks to stave off a hangover, because she's not been drinking all that much lately; but these real hacking puke sessions that jolt Sam out of sleep in the early hours of the morning. She never comes back to her bed afterwards. And Sam has his suspicions about that too, like with the left behind phone; it's Deanna's way of not giving him a chance to pry. She knows how thin the wall between the bathroom and the spare bedroom is.

"Can I sit?" Sam asks.

Deanna shrugs. It's as good as permission.

Sam lowers himself down beside her, gets comfy on the rough gravel. He puts down the beers; doesn't feel much like drinking by himself.

They sit in silence for a while. Puts Sam on edge; but it's hard to know what to say to Deanna most of the time these days, which isn't a position he's ever been in before. Then again, they've never been in the position of losing their father before, so there's that. It still doesn't feel real. It probably never will.

"Keys were still in the ignition," Deanna says, nodding up towards the truck. "Tapedeck works. Engine's salvageable. Bobby's way too quick to junk these babies. Upsets me."

Sam smiles. "Dare you to say that to his face."

"Hey, maybe I will. If he gave me half a day with this death trap I'd get her purring again. Turn her into a whole new woman."

She folds her arms, tilts her head back against that dented door. Her eyes are kinda pink and bleary.

"You should see the tapes in the glove compartment," she adds. "'S a fucking goldmine.

"Is this Hunky Dory?" Sam asks.

Deanna raises an eyebrow. "Wow. And there I was thinking you weren't paying attention all this time."

"You didn't exactly give me a choice. You only played this album every day for like ten years."

Deanna grins. "I'm proud of you, Sammy. I knew you'd learn to love it eventually."

"Love is a strong word," Sam replies.

Deanna snorts again. Something like affection passes over her face. Sam hasn't seen that in a while.

"I lost this album years ago," Deanna says. "Think it ended up with Dad, maybe. You know how our stuff used to always get mixed up."

Sam's a little stunned. And maybe it shows, because Deanna narrows her eyes at him. "What?"

"Nothing." He swallows - "Just that you, uh, mentioned Dad."

"Yeah. So?"

It's quick, defensive enough for Sam to know to shut up. He's getting good at that kind of thing.

Deanna's scowl fades; she grins, lightly punches his thigh. "You creep. Quit staring at me."

Sam didn't realize he was. But if they were a different kind of people, maybe Sam would tell Deanna how pretty she looks under the dying sunlight, under those pink, glowy clouds; but he wouldn't really know how to put something like that, and Deanna would never let him live it down if he said it aloud anyway. So he keeps it to himself. Instead, he watches Deanna pull at a spooling thread from her shirt sleeve peeking out from beneath Dad's jacket.

"You know," Deanna says, "being out here always reminds me of us being kids. Bobby letting us play in the yard until the sun went down. Bringing us lemonade. Do you remember?"

Sam smiles. "Yeah, Dee. Of course I remember."

Deanna carries on like she wasn't expecting an actual response. "We'd never had homemade lemonade. Remember how I used to try to make it for you when we got back on the road? Mine always kinda sucked, though."

Sam feels a little on edge, hyper aware of everything his body is doing, like he's trying not to spook a wild gazelle. This is the most Deanna has spoken in weeks. "You tried," he offers, because she did, Deanna always tried so hard with stuff like that. He hasn't thought about Deanna's crappy lemonade in years. With Bowie warbling about life on mars on the stereo, and the memory of Deanna's sticky too-bitter attempt alive on his tongue, it feels like it's 1992 again.

Deanna keeps pulling at that thread. "You know, back when I used to watch you - I was, I dunno, maybe ten or eleven. And you were so - you were so damn innocent, you know? Just really cute, I guess."

"Cute?" Sam echoes.

"Yeah." There's this tight, half-smile on her mouth that Sam can't quite read. "You were so curious about shit all the time. Always wanting me to tell you stories. Always getting yourself scraped and bruised because you couldn't stop fucking climbing stuff."

Sam isn't sure what to say. There's something about remembering himself as a child that makes him uncomfortable. Maybe it's the idea of being so small and so helpless; or maybe it's the memory of that hard-to-place unease that lived inside of him like blood from the moment he was fully sentient, that gut-deep sense that something about his life - his family, his barely present Daddy - just wasn't right.

"You were a pain in the ass," Deanna continues, with this fond chuckle. "Asking me questions all the time. Wanting to know how every little thing in the world worked. If I didn't know the answers, I'd just make 'em up. You believed everything I said." She clicks her tongue. "Man, do I miss that."

Why are we talking about this? Sam nearly asks. But that runs the risk that Deanna will snap shut like an oyster, and Sam will never get the answer at all. So he keeps his mouth closed. He lets Deanna carry on.

"Sammy, I used to -" She trails off, looking weirdly sheepish. "This is so so fucking weird, but like - when I was watching you, I used to wish you were actually my kid. And you - you kinda were, you know? Felt like you were mine... mine just as much as you were Dad's."

Dad, again. Sounds so unfamiliar in Deanna's voice now that it takes Sam a moment to process the revelation that came before it. "You did? Seriously?" is all he manages.

"Yeah." She's looking at her lap. Still that tight half-smile. "Seriously."

And Sam struggles to know what to do with that, what it means. Because it's hard, lately, for Sam to be angry with his father about much; makes him feel almost empty, actually, after a lifetime of nursing this near-addictive resentment over things he never fully understood. And of those things, Deanna - getting her stuff mixed up with Dad's, being so intertwined with him, resembling her martyred mother so much Dad could never stop commenting on it - Deanna seeing Sam as her own, apparently - well, he doesn't know. Sometimes Deanna just says shit. He probably isn't meant to read into it.

And besides, Sam doesn't know anything for sure. Always felt like he never really wanted to. And as he's already made his choice to love his father, he needs to keep it that way.

Deanna shuts her eyes, then. They're puffy under her lashlines, kissed with gray. "I mean," she says, "Don't get me wrong. You annoyed the crap outta me sometimes." She shrugs, hard, like a defence to an attack Sam hasn't made. "I - I do know that, Sammy. I know there was times I coulda been nicer to you." She looks a little pained.

"We were just kids Dee," Sam offers. "Not like either of us were exactly saints."

"I keep remembering," Deanna continues, in that way, like Sam hadn't spoken again, "There was this time Dad kind of - got caught up in something. Still don't know what. But he wasn't home when he said he'd be. We were running out of everything. Food, money. No one was answering the phone. And you - you were driving me insane, Sammy."

Deanna says the last part a little too quietly; her head bows, hair covering her face. And Sam thinks he knows where this is going. He's getting a little uneasy.

"You just - you kept on and on with your damn questions. 'Where's Dad? What does he do while he's away? When's he coming back?' Then you - you asked about Mom."

"Deanna-"

She shakes her head, cutting him off. Something bitter on her lips, not quite a smile. "Who punches a five year old in the face, Sammy? I can't believe I -"

"You were only nine, Dee." Sam reminds her, when she doesn't finish the sentence. "You didn't know any better."

And it's true; Dad made sure of that, with his shoot first, ask questions later manifesto. But Deanna would never see it that way. She just laughs, colorless, bitter. "Yeah. I did. I shoulda, at least. I just -" She huffs. "Sometimes it feels like I just - I couldn't stop screwing up."

"You were doing it all by yourself." As the words leave his mouth, Sam registers how they sound. Like something you'd say about a single mom, some divorced thirty something with three kids, working two jobs to keep everyone fed and clothed. Not a nine year old.

"I guess -" Deanna sucks in a breath. "I just think about that a lot. That's all."

There's this dread growing inside of Sam as he watches Deanna's mouth twist up; she blinks, angrily. "Are you - crying?"

"Shut up," she mumbles.

She turns her face away a little. Draws her knees up to her chest. And it's strange and unsettling for Sam to see, like a horse walking on its hind legs or something; because Deanna doesn't cry, crying is for girls, and anatomy aside, she doesn't much like being seen as one of those. Even before Dad's pyre she stood, solemn and silent, breathing slow, composed. A hell of a lot more composed than Sam was, anyway.

"What's going on, Dee?"

She shrugs. That's very different to I'm fine.

And if things had been in any way close to normal over the last couple of months, Sam might touch Deanna's hand right about now. Lace their fingers; cup her face. Kiss her, maybe, the way she hasn't let him kiss her in a long time. Not since - well - not since the night they let Dad go. Sam can still remember the heat from the fire on his face, the way Deanna's hair felt grainy with ash; how her lips had tasted earthy and swollen, how she felt so small and fragile in his arms, more than she ever had. Still his big sister. Still the person he wants when he's scared and spiralling and doesn't know what to do but grab onto her, and hold on and on and on.

Deanna sniffs, loudly. "I just - I had so much on my shoulders, you know? Dealin' with you... dealin' with Dad..."

Her voice cracks a little. Sam says, "It was - it was a lot. I know."

A lot. So much summed up in those two words, but it's not like Sam's had a lot of practise in talking about this.

Deanna laughs down at her folded knees, all thick. "You don't know, Sammy. You don't know at all. And I'm - I'm really glad you don't."

Sam isn't sure what to say to that. Partly because he can't gauge Deanna's tone, and partly because that feels like one of the most honest things Deanna's ever said to him. And now he's really worried.

"I just - I always wished I had another chance, you know? A chance to do over all those screw ups I made."

Tentatively, Sam reaches out to put a hand on her shoulder. It tenses a little beneath his fingers; but she doesn't pull away. That's good.

"I don't know where all this is coming from, Dee," Sam admits.

There's a pause, and Deanna seems to blink for a little too long. "It's - Sammy, I just keep on thinking. Dad's - Dad's gone."

It's the first time she's actually said it. Sam swallows; throat feels a little thick. "Yeah. I know."

"And I was just getting - you get used to things being one way, you know?" She runs a hand through her hair, shiny with grease like oil slicks. "It's always like that. You start getting used to things, and then - then some other shit happens. And suddenly things are a whole new way. Before you can even fucking -"

"What do you mean?"

"Sammy, I knew something was wrong. I - I think I knew all along. But - today..."

Sam does everything in his power to keep his growing anxiety out of his voice. "Where did you go today, Deanna?"

Her lips press together. She's still looking at her lap.

That dread expands, curdles, in Sam's gut. "Tell me."

Her hands are shaking against her thighs. "I - I went to the doctor."

That's absolutely the last thing Sam expected. "Since when do you go to the doctor?"

"I kinda had to."

Sam watches the little quiver of her fingers; and with that, he thinks back to the puking, the tiredness, how not right his sister looks. He thinks about Jess, how they were talking about what color to paint the living room 24 hours before she went up in flames on the ceiling. He thinks about Dad calmly sending him off for coffee before he…

Things are one way. Then suddenly they're another. Before you can blink, before you even remember your own name.

"Are you - are you sick?" Sam tries to keep his voice even.

Deanna isn't looking at him. "Kinda."

Sam thinks about Deanna hooked up to wires and machines. The miracle; how miracles don't happen. He's been harboring a little fear that there has to still be something wrong. A lacerated organ. A foreign object. Something they must have missed. But he thought - hoped - it was just that - a fear.

Sam sucks in a breath. "Okay. So - so what..."

Deanna smiles grimly. "Turns out I've got a parasite."

He watches Deanna shift. Her hand move towards one of the pockets of Dad's jacket. She keeps her eyes on her lap as she passes a small slip of paper to Sam. Small, rectangular. He takes it.

It's a moment or so before he realizes what he's seeing. Kind of like a photograph; a fuzzy sepia. Odd shapes that slowly begin to make sense.

"Ten weeks," Deanna says, her voice a little hoarse with disbelief. "I'm - I'm ten fucking weeks pregnant, Sammy."

Sam stares numbly at that ultrasound still. At the shapes, like two beans stacked on top of each other. Faint, fuzzy lines. Tiny arms. Tiny legs. He stares at them until they blur.

Ten weeks. Ten weeks since -

"So it's - " Sam can't finish the sentence.

"Yeah, Sammy. It's yours."

Her voice sounds very far away. And Sam can smell ash and fumes, traces of hospital grade body wash on Deanna's skin, skin that was bruised all over from cannulae and wires; and Sam couldn't catch his breath because Dad was gone, the last of him was just yards away on that burnt out pyre, gone; and Deanna's hands were on his face, tangled up in his hair, forehead pressed against his, and she was straddling his lap in the Impala's backseat, her eyes shut, muttering ssh, ssh over and over, maybe to Sam, or maybe to herself, but she kept saying it, even through the long kisses she kept pressing to his mouth; and Sam remembers he could barely see, he felt like he was choking on that ashy air, but he had Deanna, and he needed Deanna, he'd never needed her so much in his entire life. And Deanna understood, the way she's always understood things like that; and Deanna had kept on with her kissing and ssh-ing as she moved on top of him, fast, desperate, and Sam had clung onto her waist and met each roll of her hips, fast, anguished, because he couldn't get close enough, deep enough; and Deanna had been making these pitchy, breathless sounds like she was in pain, but she didn't stop Sam, and the whole time her eyes were wide and fixed on his face; and Sam remembers tangling her hair around his fingers like rope, he remembers arching up against her as he came, his body going through the motions, his senses numb to it. That numbness hasn't really left him since.

"Sammy, say something."

Deanna's voice, strained, cuts through the memory. Hauls Sam back to the present; Bowie, rotten oil, dead leaves. That autumnal breeze. His sister's face, tight and worried. Sam recognizes that pallor a little more now: shock.

It's passing through Sam as well. Of all the things he expected - this was nowhere on the list. Nowhere close.

"Alright," he manages eventually. Amazed at how calm he sounds. "What do you wanna do?" Because that's the thing to ask, right?

Deanna's lips twist again. "I mean - like, right away, I thought about just - you know - going off and taking care of it. Not even telling you. Just - "

"You wouldn't have told me?"

"I said I thought about it, Sam." She clicks her tongue; another rough wipe of her eyes. "I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

Sam keeps staring. Staring, at that image. That tiny, tiny baby.

"Is that what you want?" he manages, eventually. Hoarse as Deanna. "To - take care of it?"

Deanna's pause seems to roll around the length of the yard. Then, her eyes stray to her lap again. "You know, Dad used to lecture me about this shit. Made it very clear how disappointed he'd be if I ever accidentally got myself knocked up."

Sam says, "Really?"

"Yeah. All the time." There's something acidic in Deanna's voice. "And you know why he harped on about it so much?"

"Why?"

"Because he said it wouldn't be fair to bring a kid into all this. Into the life." Deanna laughs, this flat, one-note thing. Something sharp flashes through her eyes; something gone too quick for Sam to fully identify. "Can you believe he said that to me? After everything he..."

She stops. And Sam watches Deanna's face reset, as if she hadn't expressed something like anger towards Dad for the first time ever. Something like what Sam has been saying, feeling, thinking, ever since he was old enough to understand. Everything Deanna always denied.

"It wouldn't have to be the same." It comes out of Sam's mouth before he can catch up with it. "You know. The same as we had it."

Deanna keeps on looking at her lap.

"You -" Sam takes a breath. "You know that, right?"

Deanna sighs. More like the breath whipping out of her body. "I'm not gonna stop looking for the demon, Sammy."

She says it like she expected Sam to insist on it. He clarifies: "I'm not saying we do. I'm saying we make it work."

He has no idea how. No fucking idea. His brain hasn't quite absorbed what's in front of him yet, the news undigested; but he's certain, somehow, of that.

Deanna gives that odd laugh again. Sam isn't sure what it means, this time. "It's also..." She picks at that thread on her shirt again. "I mean, the doctor said it looked healthy. But what if it comes out and it's like, a cyclops or something?"

"Why would it be -"

Deanna's shoulders rise. "You've seen Deliverance, right?"

Oh.

Sam swallows. His eyes stray back to the picture. Not that he can see much; not that there's much to see. But there's enough there for Sam to think it looks absolutely perfect.

"There are risks," is all he can think to say. "But it's - you know. It's not completely inevitable."

Deanna narrows her eyes. "You've already looked this stuff up, haven't you?"

She says it in this accusatory way. Sam runs his thumb delicately across the grainy image. "There was always a chance this could happen, Dee."

Always a chance. They've never done much to mitigate it, really. There's not enough space in Sam's brain right now, to wonder why that is.

Deanna skips over it too. Runs a hand through that greasy hair. Her lips twist.

"I just think," she says, after a while, "even if it comes out with three heads, playing a fucking banjo... would I care? You know?"

She's still not quite meeting Sam's eyes. Sam prompts, "Would you?"

"I mean. It's not like it'd be the only freak in this family, right?" A smile spreads across her mouth. "Sammy, you know I wouldn't care. I'd -I'd love it no matter what."

"Me too." It comes out thick; Sam's never been more sure of anything in his life.

He hands Deanna back the picture; takes her hand, deceptively delicate and cold in his, as he watches her eyes fog up with tears again. She doesn't hide this time; leans in to press her forehead against Sam's, just like that night ten weeks ago, just like they've come full circle. And fuck, it feels like forever since Sam's been touched like this, touched by anyone; he's just wondering if leaning in for a kiss would be pushing it, when he feels Deanna's plump, dried out lips brushing his. They feel a little sticky, and there's this malodor to her breath, but Sam barely registers it. It's like coming home.

I missed you, he doesn't say; can't, when Deanna's mouth would smother it anyway. When Deanna would only screw her face up and call him a big girl, and he'd rattle with guilt about feeling a little humiliated by that, but he'd feel it anyway.

Deanna pulls away first. She's a little flushed, and Sam can faintly see the capillaries in her face, like pink lines on a map under her skin; she squeezes his hand, laces their fingers. Moves them together until Sam's palm is flat against her stomach, the warmth of her body underneath that worn flannel.

"I keep thinking I can feel it," she whispers. "Now I know it's there."

Sam watches their interlaced hands dumbly. Overwhelmed. He can too.

"I kinda hope it's a girl." Deanna's voice has that hoarse quality again. "So I can - so she can have a Mom. So she can have what I didn't have."

She says it at the exact moment Sam finds himself hoping it's a boy. His reasons are similar. But for someone who doesn't like to talk, Deanna's always been way better at articulating stuff like that.

"You'll be a great Mom, Dee," he says, firmly. You were to me.

"Alright. You don't need to kiss my ass." Deanna ruffles his hair, like she did when she kissed him goodnight as a kid.

It takes Sam a moment to find his voice again. "I mean it, Dee. We'll make it work." He says it with this conviction that rises up from somewhere deep. "And I'm gonna be here for you, alright? Every step of the way."

Deanna groans. "Jesus Christ. I knew you'd be like this."

But she's smiling. And Sam allows himself to as well.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

“You know Dad would kill us, right? But man, do I wish he was here right now.”

She says it with a laugh in her voice, her face all twisted up; and Sam can't help but remember how he and Jess had talked about kids, vaguely, sometimes, kind of like a concept, a distant dream. How Sam had thought to himself about Dad a lot then, too, the way he never really stopped thinking about Dad and Deanna. He remembers wondering to himself whether Dad would be proud. Whether he'd even want a grandkid; if he'd want to know at all. Back then, Sam genuinely toyed with the idea that Dad wouldn't even care. Never come back, Sam.

It's not the same, now. Holy fuck, this is not the same, and it can probably only be a good thing that Dad's not here to know about this; so Sam pushes away the thought. He puts his arms around Deanna's waist and pulls her as close as he dares.

"It'll be okay," he says again, because he can't think of anything else. Because it has to be.

Deanna's looking at him kinda intently. "Sam, do you think this is Dad's way of like - you know - coming back?"

"Uh - what?"

Deanna shrugs. "Dunno. Just - hormones talking, I guess." She squeezes Sam's hand against her stomach. "Forget I said anything."

Sam's not sure he can. They don't say anything after that.

#asks #prompts #samdeanna #johndeanna if u squint #my writing #yes I know I literally always play in this part of the Canon sandbox #but whatever i invite you to sue me #cw discussions of abortion #cw childhood trauma #cw intergenerational trauma #cw incest #this came out very soft by my standards lol #well apart from all the incest and trauma #it's so heavy on the incest lol

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sweetestofchaos · 1 year

Text

TOTW Ch 8

𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗈𝗍𝟩 𝗑 𝗈𝖼!𝗁𝗒𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖭𝖢-𝟣𝟪 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾/𝖺𝗎: 𝖠𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖥𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖠𝖴, 𝖧𝗒𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽 𝖠𝖴, 𝖭𝗈𝗇-𝖨𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝖠𝖴 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝖨𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖱𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖪𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖣𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝖳𝖺𝗅𝗄, 𝖴𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖲𝖾𝗑, 𝖠𝗇𝖺𝗅, 𝖠𝗌𝗌 𝖤𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖲𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖠𝗅𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖺!𝖲𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗃𝗂𝗇, 𝖯𝗂𝖾𝖽-𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖲𝗁𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖽 𝖳𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝖲𝗇𝖺𝗄𝖾!𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖭𝖺𝗆𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖧𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗄, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖩𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗇, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖳𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀, 𝖪𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗈!𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄, 𝖰𝗎𝗈𝗅𝗅!𝖮𝖢 𝗐𝖼: 𝟫.2𝖪

"What a blessing to be loved by you." - Chaos

a/n: for those of you who are not aware or have come to the party late...the rating for this story has changed to NC-18 because there will be more explicit sex scenes between the members. It won't happen often 'cause that isn't what this story is about. With that said, for those of you who came for the fluff, I will make it a point to mark where the smut will start and where it ends. Also, a little fun note, the song that Imani sings in this chapter is a song I wrote and sing to my own children at bedtime.

a/n 2: i have a few shout out that need to happen 'cause without these people, this chapter would not have happened. @namjinsmoonchile as always for being such a wonderful beta! @vvh0adie 'cause they gave me a handful of idea to work with for this story. the photoshoot is just one idea. and for the guy's style thank you @raplinenthusiasts for your wonderful flower boys gifset. and shoutout to @cafekitsune for sharing their divider templet.

taglist: @vvh0adie @quirkybtsarmy @elliedearest

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The scent of sesame oil is thick in the air. It pulls Yoongi from his sleep and his tongue flicks in the air as he rubs at his eyes. His face is puffy from sleep, eyes are swollen and there is a sliver of dried drool crusted on his chin. Yawning, Yoongi groans when his head starts to pound, from the back of his neck to the front of his forehead. Reaching for his phone, Yoongi squints as the screen's brightness makes his stomach roll with nausea.

Soggy laundry, long forgotten in the rain creeps down two sets of steps and from the kitchen, Jungkook’s ears flick around his head.

“Yoongi doesn’t feel good,” Jungkook informs Hoseok, who is cooking at the stove.

Hoseok looks over at the calendar that’s on the fridge and nods his head. “It’s his week to drain his venom. He’ll be out of work for two days. Wake Namjoon up and have him go help Yoongi.”

Jungkook quickly stands from the island, leaving the cut up fruit on the cutting board before he washes his hands in the sink. Jungkook jogs up the first flight of steps and heads to Namjoon and Hoseok’s shared bedroom. He pushes open the door and Namjoon is sleeping on his back, snoring away. Carefully, Jungkook walks over to Namjoon’s side of the bed and shakes his shoulder.

“Hyung.” Jungkook shakes Namjoon’s shoulder a little harder. “Namjoonie, hyung?”

Namjoon snorts and chokes, waking up with a stuttered breath as he stares up at Jungkook through blurry eyes. Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he coos at the older man and carefully hands Namjoon the glasses that are sitting on his nightstand.

“Yoongi has to pump his fangs.”

It takes a few short moments for Jungkook’s words to process in Namjoon’s sleepy mind and when they click, he rolls out of bed and nearly crashes into the door frame. Jungkook laughs and shakes his head.

“Put your glasses on, Joon.”

Namjoon shoves his glasses onto his face and mumbles a quick thanks to Jungkook before he stumbles out of his room to go help Yoongi. Jungkook makes his way back to the kitchen on the floor below to help Hoseok finish up with breakfast.

The unpleasant scent of Yoongi’s discomfort woke Seokjin up and he heard Namjoon’s heavy steps, stomping up the stairs. He has no need to worry about Yoongi, the snake hybrid is in good hands with Namjoon. Sitting up in his bed, Seokjin stretches his arms up, over his head with a loud yawn. The clock on the wall reads six thirty and Seokjin scratches the back of his head.

He can hear Jungkook and Hoseok's voices from the levels below. He can’t make out what they are saying, but he knows it’s them. Yoongi and Namjoon’s voices are light and unclear as well. There is no movement from the soulmate’s room or Imani’s room. Rolling his shoulders, Seokjin pushes himself out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom to wash his face and rinse his mouth to get rid of the fuzziness on his tongue. In the hallway, Yoongi’s discomfort is nearly suffocating and Seokjin makes a mental note to crack the windows and run the air purifiers. The last thing he wants is for Imani to wake up and panic about Yoongi. He doesn’t want her to shift from fear or worry.

In the bathroom, he washes up, clearing his face of any trace of sleep and runs a brush through his bed head. Using the toilet, Seokjin’s ears twitch on his head when he hears footsteps on the stairs. Flushing the toilet and washing his hands, Seokjin exits the bathroom and heads out into the nesting room. Jungkook’s tan tail is the first thing that he sees from the open door of the fridge.

“Mornin’ Kook,” Seokjin greets with a yawn and Jungkook looks over his shoulder with a smile on his face.

“Mornin!”

“Does Hobah need help with breakfast?”

“No, we got it. Did you check on Yoongi and Namjoon?”

Seokjin shakes his head, “No need to. They got it.”

Jungkook nods his head and Seokjin watches as the kangaroo hybrid grabs five banana milks and three strawberry milks. Seokjin raises an eyebrow and Jungkook makes a face as he shuts the fridge door with his tail. Jungkook disappears down the steps, leaving Seokjin alone and he sighs. Maybe he should get himself ready for the day while Imani is still sleeping. Seokjin glances at the tv and smiles to himself. A better idea is to get a light workout in before Imani wakes up and then he can get himself ready.

Imani watches from the nest as Namjoon comes from Yoongi’s room with four glass jars filled with a murky opaque liquid. Yoongi’s door wasn’t open very long but the musty scent of mildew is strong and it makes the ears on Imani’s head lay flat. Bluey is playing on the tv and Imani has no interest in it. As much as he wanted to cancel his house calls, Seokjin is working today, so Hoseok is in charge of Imani’s care. From the scents in the house, Imani knows that it’s just Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok and herself in the house. Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung all went to the gym together to blow off their excitement, now that Imani is officially a part of their park. She hasn’t seen Yoongi all morning and it makes her feel sad. Namjoon sets the jars on the counter and pushes them closer to the wall so that they aren’t on the edge before he leaves the kitchenette, typing away on his phone.

Namjoon glances at Imani and smiles, “You okay, pup?”

Imani nods her head and Namjoon squats down at the edge of the nest, “Hobi will make lunch in a little bit. He had to handle something in the salon and will be right back. I have to make a phone call for work…do you want a snack or juice?”

“You go work?”

Namjoon nods his head slowly and watches as Imani’s ears twitch on her head. Hoseok gave her a very simple hairstyle today; the bun from yesterday is still on top of her head and the bubble braid in the back is now wrapped into a bun as well. Namjoon reaches down and scratches behind Imani’s right ear before he pinches her cheek softly.

“I’ll bring you some snacks and a juice box.”

Namjoon makes quick work of filling a sectioned snack box with grapes, strawberries, dakgogi-gimbap cut up into smaller pieces, dubu-ganjangjorim, soy sauce crackers, a handful of honey butter chips, and two coco pies with a peach Milkis. He places the lid on top and carries it over to the nest.

“Hobi will be up soon. Stay in the nest or play in your room.”

Namjoon kisses the top of Imani’s head and places the snack box down on the ledge. As he walks away, Imani stares at the tv and her tail curls around her waist. She waits until she hears the door to Namjoon’s office close before she stands up and crawls out of the nest. She lifts the snack box up and her tail wraps around the Milikis can. Taking slow and careful steps forward, Imani heads towards the stairway that leads to Yoongi’s room at the very top of the house. Standing in front of his bedroom door, Imani cranes her head back to look at the closed door. She cannot smell anything coming from Yoongi’s room and she rocks on the balls of her feet.

“Yoonie?” Imani’s voice is soft as she calls his name. “Yoonie, you play wit me?”

Setting the snack box on the ground, Imani reaches out for the door handle and twists the door open. The moment the door cracks open, Imani is assaulted by the strong stench of mildew and her ears press firmly against her head making her whimper. From his bed, Yoongi’s eyes snap open at the sound of distress and as he sits up he sees Imani standing in his doorway.

“Pup?” Yoongi’s voice is gruff with sleep and he winces in pain. It hurts to talk, his gums are swollen and inflamed from pumping his fangs. Even though his snake breed is not venomous, he still produces a false venom because his father is a viper hybrid while his mom is a pied-bellied shieldtail. He squints to focus his vision, not having it in him to wear his glasses because of his headache. Imani is there alone in a white short sleeved shirt that has a rounded collar and light pink overwalls with tiny cherries and wildflowers on it. She has pink socks on her feet with lace ruffles on the top and Yoongi thinks she looks like the sweetest pup ever.

“Are you okay? What are you doing up here alone?” Yoongi pushes himself to slip out of bed and he waddles over to Imani. He squats down to her height and Imani whimpers as she throws herself into his arms. Immediately she starts to nuzzle her nose into his scent gland as she wraps her little arms around the back of his neck. Yoongi huffs as she knocks into him but he holds her close nonetheless.

His tongue flicks out and he doesn’t smell anyone down below on the nesting floor. Frowning, Yoongi grabs the snack box that is by his feet and he notices that Imani is holding a drink with her tail. Carefully, he stands while supporting Imani in his left arm while he holds the snack box in his right hand. He kicks his door closed with his foot and forgets to push the door scent blocker flush against the bottom of the door. His bare feet paddle across the light hardwood floor. Yoongi easily crawls onto his futon style bed and settles up by his pillows. Imani wiggles in his lap and sits with her back pressed against his stomach and chest.

“Yoonie, you sick?”

“A little bit.”

Yoongi looks down at Imani as she grabs the drink from her tail and places it in his hand.

“Were…were you worried about me, pup?”

Imani tries to open the can herself but her fingers can’t get a good grip of the tab. Silently, Yoongi opens the can and Imani’s tail flicks against his wrist.

“You want me to drink it?”

Nodding her head as she crawls out of the snake hybrid’s lap, she turns around on her knees and narrows her eyes. Her little hand is cool as she presses it against his forehead. A frown pulls Imani’s lips downwards and her ears once again press against her head.

“I take care of you! Mommy showed me!”

Imani’s tail flicks at Yoongi’s wrist again and he slowly takes a sip of the drink. He isn’t a huge fan of peach Milkis but the cold temperature is a welcoming relief to his sore gums. While Yoongi drinks, Imani turns around and focuses on the snack box. She opens it up and bites the stems off the tops of the strawberries before she hands one to Yoongi. Yoongi’s heart pounds in his chest happily at the display of affection and he eats the strawberry with a smile on his face. A little of its juice leaks from the corner of his mouth and Imani wipes at his face with her hand.

“You eat some too,” Yoongi orders lightly as he picks up a piece of pan fried tofu and holds it up to Imani’s mouth. They go back and forth feeding each other and in between bites, Imani’s tail wraps around Yoongi’s wrist to scent him. The pain in Yoongi’s gums is soothed by the chilled food and his headache isn’t as bad as it was when Imani first came to his room. Yoongi blinks slowly and Imani is staring up at him with large wide eyes.

“You sleep now?”

Imani pushes the snack box away from them and pushes on Yoongi’s chest until he lays back in bed. His head hits the pillow and Imani crawls up on the pillows until she can lay horizontally with her back pressed into the wall and her stomach squished against the top of Yoongi’s head. Yoongi says nothing as Imani’s tail curls around his throat, brushing against his scent glands while she pets the top of his head. Freshly picked sunflowers at the peak of their prime flood Yoongi’s nose and his body relaxes easily. His eyes feel heavy and he hisses softly when the tip of Imani’s tail grazes the lobe of his ear. It tickles and feels weird, makes his scales itch.

“I sing, kay? Mommy sings lots and I feel better.”

“I would like that,” Yoongi murmurs as he yawns and sinks deeper into his mattress.

Hey brown eyes

Why you crying?

Hey brown eyes

The moon is shining

Hey brown eyes

Everything’s gonna be alwight

Yoongi’s eyes furrow as Imani starts to sing. Her voice is quiet and low as she sings softly. The lyrics don’t sound familiar and he can’t recall any disney song that has a slow jazz tempo.

Hey brown eyes

Why you crying?

Hey brown eyes

I’m always gonna be here

Hey brown eyes

Everything’s gonna be alwight

As Imani continues to sing, Yoongi fights his sleep. He wants to know what song Imani is singing but nothing is coming to mind.

Hey brown eyes

The moon is shining

Hey brown eyes

It’s time to say goonight

Hey brown eyes

Everything’s gonna be alwight

A beat plays in Yoongi’s mind and he finds himself smiling. He still doesn’t recognize the song but the soothing and tender touch of a mother’s love settles in his heart. He makes a mental note to search for the song when he wakes up and drifts to sleep with the warmth of Imani’s lips pressing to his temple. Imani yawns and rubs at her eyes before she curls her body tighter around Yoongi’s head and presses her nose against his temple. She tucks her hands in between her stomach and Yoongi’s head. Her eyes flutter a few times and she falls asleep with Yoongi’s pulse beating under her tail.

In the elevator, Hoseok sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He really did not want to see any part of the salon today but when one of his employees texted him about an unscheduled drop off, he had to go down and help. The shipment was an order that he placed for products that he could use for Imani. Kinky Curly, Mielle Organics, and Tgin were a few of the brands that he had looked into and completely forgot that the order was due for delivery today. On top of that there was a irate client that wasn’t pleased to learn of Hoseok’s new schedule and she just so happened to come by while he was in the salon.

The elevator opens the nesting floor and the first thing Hoseok notices is the lack of noise. The tv is on but there is a lack of giggling or singing along. Hoseok steps out of the elevator and walks over to the nest. Imani isn’t sitting in the middle but there are a few pillows and blankets out of place. Hoseok recalls the text from Namjoon about having to make a phone call and he smiles. How sweet of Namjoon to take Imani to his office while he works. Wanting to give Namjoon a break, Hoseok walks down the steps to the floor below and heads to Namjoon and Yoongi’s shared office.

Tugging his pants up higher on his waist, Hoseok knocks gently on the closed office door and he hears Namjoon call for him to come in. Hoseok opens the door and pokes his head in with a smile on his face. Namjoon is sitting behind the desk, typing away on the desktop and he glances at Hoseok confused.

“Did you need something, babe?”

“I came to get Imani.”

Namjoon stops typing and pushes the glasses up farther on the bridge of his nose.

“She’s not hiding in here.”

“What?” Hoseok is looking at Namjoon with furrowed eyebrows and the smile on his face is gone. “Joon…where’s the baby?”

It’s Namjoon’s turn to furrow his eyebrows and frown at Hoseok, “How would I know? I’ve been on the phone this whole time…are you not playing hide and seek?”

“What?” Hoseok shakes his head. “Who said anything about hide and seek?” Hoseok steps into the office and looks around. “Namjoon, seriously, stop kidding around. Where’s Imani?”

Namjoon stands from his desk and walks over to Hoseok with his palm raised outwards at his chest. “Hobi, Imani isn't here with me.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen and he grabs onto the door frame to catch himself as he knees buckle. Namjoon is quick to wrap his arms around Hoseok’s waist and he holds him close.

“Hey, it’s okay. She probably is taking a nap in her room. Did you check there?” Hoseok shakes his head and Namjoon kisses his forehead. “Come on, we can check together.”

Together, Namjoon and Hoseok walk up the steps and head right to Imani’s room. Her bed is empty, the knitted blanket with her initials in the corner is hanging off the neatly made bed. The pile of stuffed animals is stacked in the corner of the room and there are no signs that Imani has played in her room at all today. Hoseok turns to Namjoon with wide eyes and Namjoon is speechless. His lips press into a firm line and he runs a hand through his hair.

“Let’s split up and search for her, okay? She didn’t leave the house or the alarm would have sounded. We’ll check all the rooms first. She could just be missing the guys and fell asleep in their rooms.”

Hoseok nods his head in agreement and they check the rooms. They check every small space that Imani’s shifted form could fit in case she shifted without them knowing. While searching for Imani, the three youngest of the pack come back and Hoseok is close to tears.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin questions as Jungkook throws a hand over his nose and mouth.

Hoseok rushes up to Jungkook and grabs onto his arm, “D-Do you smell Imani? I-Is she in the house?”

“Where else would she be?” Taehyung looks at Namjoon from over Hoseok’s shoulder with a raised eyeball.

“What is going on?” Jimin tires again and Namjoon sighs as he rubs a hand down his face.

“We can’t find Imani and we’ve searched the whole house.” Namjoon admits and Jungkook’s nose twitches in amusement. He feels bad at seeing his packmates so upset but he can’t help but tease them a little.

“You checked everywhere?” Jungkook looks between Hoseok and Namjoon who both nod their heads. “Are you sure?” Again they both nod their heads and Jungkook breathes in deeply. “She’s still in the house-”

Before Jungkook can elaborate, Namjoon’s eyes widen and he grabs Hoseok’s hand, “Yoongi’s room!”

Five sets of feet run up four flights of steps, all huffing as they stand outside of Yoongi’s bedroom door. Hoseok opens the door quietly and he squints into the darkness, seeing that the skylights on the ceiling are covered up.

“I can’t see anything,” Hoseok whispers and Jungkook shoves his way to the front. Sunflowers, standing tall and proud behind a freshly washed load of clothes, hung and drying in a warm summer breeze. Jungkook smiles and creeps towards the bed with the guys behind him, following his every footstep. As their eyes adjust to the poor lighting in Yoongi’s room, they see that Yoongi is sound asleep in his bed and the weight that holds Hoseok’s heart in a vine like vince loosens. Imani is lying on the same pillow as Yoongi upside down and curled around his head. They are facing each other with a few centimeters between their noses. Imani’s tail is draped across Yoongi’s neck and Imani has taken Yoongi’s left pinkie hostage in her right hand.

Taehyung digs in his pocket and grabs his phone, pushing Jungkook out of the way to get a photo of the two slumbering hybrids. The flash goes off and Jimin slaps at Taehyung’s arm as they all quickly rush out of the room. Jungkook giggles and pulls the door shut behind them.

“Hyung smells a lot better than he did in the morning.”

As they all walk down the steps, they sit around in the kitchenette while Hoseok grabs snacks for everyone. “Does he?” Namjoon asks through a mouth full of kimchi.

Jungkooks nods his head and glances at the glass jars on the counter. “Are you sending one to the doctor to check?”

“We have to, Kook. It’s not that far from Jimin’s studio, so he can drop it off when he goes to work.”

“It’s been years,” Jimin sighs. “Do you really think Yoongi would become venomous now?”

“You never know, Minie,” Taehyung swallows down his food and licks his lips. “Since Yoongi’s father is venomous, the gene is there in his DNA. It’s just dormant and from my understanding until he turns forty, the gene has the possibility to awaken.”

“I’m sure Yoongi will be fine. Even if he were to become venomous, he wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Hoseok points out and everyone agrees.

“Hyung has great self control even during his ruts he has never hurt us.” Namjoon agrees with Jimin as he continues to eat his pre-lunch snack.

“Just make sure you take a jar with you on your way to work tomorrow, okay?” Namjoon jerks his thumb over his shoulder to point at the jars and Jimin nods his head.

Taehyung sits at the desk in his room with papers hanging in front of him on a thin wire. Different dress designs stare back at him with tiny scraps of fabric paperclipped to the sides in different colors. They have yet to sit down as a pack and fully discuss how they would like to introduce Imani to the rest of their friends and family. Taehyung knows that no matter what, Imani will look her best in a dress designed just for her by his own hands. Personally, Taehyung thinks it would be fun to do a family photoshoot and print up greeting cards to send out. He already has outfit ideas tucked away in one of the drawers of his desk for each member of the pack, depending on what style they choose to go with.

“Tae?”

Jimin’s voice calls from the bed and Taehyung turns in his seat so that he can see his lover better. Jimin is lying on his stomach, the bedding is a mess and just a sheet covers Jimin’s lower half. His bareback is uncovered, littered in hickies and the swell of his butt peeks out from the sheet making Taehyung gulp. Jimin glances at the clock on the nightstand and sees that it is only four in the morning.

“What are you still doing up?” Jimin’s lips poke out into a pout as he rubs at his right eye with his fist. “Come back to bed.” The command is whiny as Jimin yawns and holds himself up with his elbows.

Taehyung’s lips pull upward into a fond smile, his eyes soften and he stares at Jimin. “A few more moments, my love. I am almost finished, go back to sleep.”

Jimin does not like that answer and runs his tongue over the front of his teeth. Not breaking eye contact, Jimin shifts into an upward facing dog before he pulls his legs closer to his chest into a cat-cow position. The sheet slips off his body and exposes his nude lower half to Taehyung’s wide eyes. Jimin smiles, his eyes teasing as he slides forward with his arms extended into a child’s pose with his butt on full display. Taehyung gulps, feeling himself chub up at the sight of his lover’s body. He glances at the sketches beside him and clicks his tongue, he can always work on his ideas another time.

“You didn’t get enough earlier, my soul?” Taehyung’s voice drips with lust, his eyes dark as he drinks in the wonder that is Jimin’s body.

Laying himself flat on the bed, Jimin peeks over his shoulder, his cheek flushed with color as he shakes his head. Taehyung clicks his tongue and stands from his seat. His chest is bare and he only wears a loose pair of tan sleep pants. Pushing the soft material down his legs, Taehyung steps out of them as they pool at his ankles and makes his way over to the bed.

“Should I put you to sleep?” Taehyung teases as he crawls onto the bed and Jimin murmurs a breathy ‘yes’ as Taehyung’s large hands slide up the back of his legs. Warm lips press wet kisses from the back of Jimin’s knee up to the plump roundness of his butt. Taehyung’s teeth sink into the tender flesh and Jimin moans, goosebumps rising on his skin as the pleasure-pain spreads from his butt and up his spine.

“T-Tae! Don’t tease, I’m sleepy.” Jimin whines as a shiver creeps up his shoulders from the weight of Taehyung settling on top of his legs.

“Shhh, go to sleep.” Taehyung presses his lips to Jimin’s temple and reaches down to grab hold of himself. He angles his hips and pushes forward, the tip of his dick spreading Jimin butt and catching on the puckered entrance. Jimin whines as Taehyung starts to smear his precum around the entrance and Taehyung chuckles as he bites his bottom lip. “Easy, my soul. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Want you now, Tae!” Jimin demands and Taehyung nods his head, not able to deny his soulmate anything.

Sliding his hand farther down his shaft, Taehyung pushes forward and grunts as Jimin’s ass sucks him in greedily. Jimin’s body trembles, his walls soft as velvet and wet with lube and spit from before. Taehyung’s hips press firmly against Jimin’s ass and Jimin’s back arches slightly.

“No, no, handsome. You relax, let me do the work.” Taehyung starts to grind his pelvis into Jimin’s ass, the tip of his dick presses against Jimin’s prostate and massages it sweetly and Taehyung slowly starts to work up a steady rhythm. His hips pull back and slam back down, the sound of skin on skin, slapping against each other. Jimin’s ass ripples from each thrust of Taehyung’s hips. His moans are muffle by the pillow that he bites down on and Taehyung’s arms cage around Jimin’s head as he fucks into his lover deeply.

“T-Tae!” Jimin’s moans as he stomach clenches and Taehyung bends his knees, pressing into Jimin deeper as he pulls away from Jimin’s back. Resting his hands on the small of Jimin’s back, his thumbs sink into the dimples and Jimin cries as Taehyung starts to fuck him in earnest.

“Too much?” Taehyung teases as he slows his thrusts, dropping his head downward so that he can see the way Jimin’s ass bounces.

“M-More, please! Tae, m-more!” Jimin begs, tears blurring his vision as the waves of his oncoming pleasure ebb away.

“More? I thought you were tired?”

Taehyung cups Jimin’s ass and spreads his cheeks. He stares down at where Jimin’s puffy hole swallows him whole and he lets saliva gather in his mouth. He spits lazily and watches as the glob falls down and lands in Jimin’s gaping hole just as Taehyung pulls all the way out. Sliding down, Taehyung settles between Jimin’s legs, his face above Jimin’s ass, still spread for his viewing pleasure. Before Jimin can whine, Taehyung dives forward and licks into the warm, puffy hole. He massages the swollen walls with his tongue, drooling and making a mess while Jimin moans.

Licking down to Jimin’s balls, Taehyung sucks one into his mouth and Jimin’s body jackknifes, his left foot kicking Taehyung in the thigh. Pulling away with a loud smacking sound, Taehyung tongues at Jimin’s balls and grabs his ass with his hands. His fingers sneak towards the puffy ring of muscle and it’s an easy slip inside. Two fingers, his index and middle, both equal long, start to curl and press against Jimin’s tightening walls.

“That’s it baby. Such pretty sounds you make for me.” Taehyung nips at the fat of Jimin's ass and soothes the bitten skin with soft kisses and even softer licks of his tongue. He climbs back up the bed and spreads Jimin’s left ass cheek while holding his hole open with his two fingers before he thrusts forward and fills him completely.

Jimin comes with a muffled cry and Taehyung smirks. Keeping his fingers inside, he delivers quick and hard thrusts. Jimin’s ass is tinted a rose tone from the force as Taehyung chases his own releases.

“Come on, Minie. I know you can give me one more, right? Gonna cum again, my love?”

Jimin shakes his head as Taehyung chuckles deeply, his lips right by Jimin’s ear.

“Cum again, my love.”

Taehyung nibbles at Jimin’s ear lobe as he fucks into him and Jimin’s walls squeeze around him. Jimin turns his head and catches Taehyung’s lips in a needy kiss. Taehyung moans as he feels Jimin’s pulse rapidly beating and throbbing around his dick. It is a rhythmic song, silent and seductive, that Taehyung dances to. It begs for his release and who is Taehyung to deny such a request. Jimin’s body tells his deepest desires without a single word and Taehyung is a master in the language. Breaking the kiss and pulling out, Taehyung grabs Jimin’s hips and lifts them up, so that Jimin is on his knees. His chest is still resting against the mattress, his head buried in the pillow to muffle his cries and moans.

Grabbing his ass once more, Taehyung spread the cheeks and spits, twice, into the hole before he slips back inside and fucks Jimin deeper still. The new position has the head of Taehyung’s dick kissing Jimin’s prostate repeatedly in rapid succession. The pleasure is overwhelming, toe curling and stomach clenching. Jimin comes without warning and Taehyung tightens his old around Jimin’s waist as he slumps a little from the sudden release.

“Good boy, baby. Such a good boy for me,” Taehyung praises as his stomach starts to clench. His balls pull close to his body and he hisses as he fills Jimin with ropes of his own release. His hips stutter in their movement as he rides out his climax and he huffs out a deep breath.

He carefully pulls out and holds Jimin’s waist lightly as he maneuvers him on the bed. They lay beside each other, out of breath, trying to see straight and silently share their love as they press a tender kiss to each other's lips. Jimin yawns as they pull away and he snuggles into Taehyung’s sweaty chest for a moment before he turns around, wanting to help back to chest. Jimin loves when he is the little spoon.

Wrapping his arms around Jimin’s waist, Taehyung presses his face into the moon tattoo on Jimin’s spin and presses light kisses. The skin is flushed, damp with sweat and spit and it makes Taehyung grin.

“I love you.”

Jimin wiggles back into Taehyung’s chest, his butt pressed firmly against his pelvis. “I love you, Tae.”

Taehyung tightens his hold on Jimin and kisses his shoulder before he lets go and rolls over to the nightstand by the bed. He digs around in the drawer and pulls out a pack of wet wipes to clean himself and Jimin with. Carefully he tugs a few out and starts to wipe Jimin clean before he takes care of himself and tosses the soiled wipes in the trash. Grabbing the sheets and blankets that are crumbled near the foot of the bed, Taehyung pulls them up and covers himself and Jimin.

Jimin turns over onto his back and holds his arms out towards Taehyung with a sleepy smile on his face. Silently, Taehyung settles into Jimin’s arms, his face squished against his chest and his left hand resting on his chest. Tucked into Jimin’s chest, with their legs tangled, Taehyung kisses the hollow of Jimin’s throat and snuggles into him. Jimin’s fingers slowly comb through Taehyung’s hair and he lets out a content sigh.

“Let’s go!” Namjoon shouts from the front door. It’s half past eleven in the afternoon and Taehyung scheduled a family photoshoot for everyone. The clothes were already packed up and laid out nicely in the trunk of the cars. They decided that for the photoshoot that it would be nice to do something outside and indoors, so Namjoon found the perfect botanical garden that had a wide variety of flowers and trees, as well as a room that they could turn into a photoset. Everyone comes down the steps with smiles on their faces. Imani is perched in Taehyung’s arms, her little arms wrapped around his neck as she plays with the beaded necklace he wears.

“We don’t want to be late, let’s go.” Namjoon opens the front door and allows for everyone to leave first before he pulls the door shut behind him. He looks at everyone as they pile into the two cars and calls out to Seokjin, “Where’s Imani’s bag?”

Seokjin’s head whips around to Jungkook who is scratching at his ears in embarrassment. “Inside!” Seokjin calls with a roll of his eyes and Namjoon quickly heads back inside the house. He jogs up the steps to the nesting floor and spots the bag sitting on the island. Grabbing the bag, Namjoon double checks it quickly to make sure that everything Imani could possibly need is inside before he slings the bag over his shoulder. Jogging back down the steps and out the front door, Namjoon locks up behind himself and tosses the bag into the maknae car. He jumps into the backseat of the other car and Hoseok smiles.

“Got everything?” Seokjin questions from the passenger seat and Namjoon nods his head.

Yoongi pulls out first and Jimin follows behind with Imani strapped into the backseat with Jungkook. The ride to botanical gardens is filled with laughter, singing and fresh air from the downed windows. The scent of flowers is faint and grows stronger, more earthy as they drive closer to the gardens. Imani watches with wide eyes as flower petals ride the breeze and dive into the open windows. She giggles as one lands in her lap and she picks it up to show Jungkook.

“I caught one!” Imani beams as she waves the petal in Jungkook’s face. He laughs and carefully takes it from her. “I keep?”

“I’ll hold onto it and you can show everyone when we get out.” Imani’s tail wiggles at her side and Jungkook’s nose scrunches up as he laughs. “So cute!” He coos and pets Imani’s head, scratching behind her left ear.

The two cars arrive at the botanical gardens and it takes a little while to find parking. Seokjin takes the emergency bag from Jungkook and waits while Taehyung lifts Imani into his arms. Hoseok grabs the bagged clothing from the trunk and hands it to Jimin before he pinches Imani’s cheek playfully in passing. Keeping Taehyung and Jimin in the center, the others form a barrier around them with Yoongi leading the pack. As the group of eight makes their way into the main building, people stop and stare, mostly at Jungkook’s tail or Seokjin’s ears. Reaching the reception desk, Yoongi talks to the older woman at the counter and she signs them in.

“We have blocked off room thirteen for your use. Your photography team is already inside, setting up.” The older woman politely explains everything to Yoongi and informs him that there is also a member of their staff in the room to escort them from place to place without any issues. All of this is for Imani and Taehyung’s safety. As a fairly well known designer, Taehyung doesn’t want the news of Imani to be leaked before the pack can tell their family and friends.

A stout man with salt and pepper hair comes around the desk and leads the Min pack to room thirteen. He opens the door and bows low before he disappears and Yoongi enters the room first with Namjoon bringing up the rear. There are roughly eighteen people in the room and it looks like half of the room has come right out of a J.R.R Tolkien novel. A tall man with an equally long neck, spots the Min pack and purrs loudly. There is a set of chocolate brown triangle ears that stick out from his black coiffed hair and a matching chocolate brown tail wrapped around his waist.

“Taehyungie!” The man yells as the pack breaks apart and Taehyung grins.

“Seojoon, hyung!” Taehyung beams that wide boxy smile as Seojoon strides over to the pack.

“Good to see you again, Yoongi-ssi, Seokjin-ssi!” Seojoon shakes their hands and the others all say hello before Seojoon’s green eyes settle on the little girl in Taehyung’s arms. Seojoon glances at Yoongi silently asking for permission to speak to the newest member of the Min pack and Yoongi nods his head. “And who is this cutie, Taehyungie?” Seojoon’s tail uncurls from around his waist and sways peacefully behind his back.

Imani, who has hidden her face in Taehyung’s chest, making everyone smile as the ears on top of her head perk up. Taehyung pulls his face away, giving himself a slight double chin to glance down at Imani. He rubs her back soothingly and nuzzles into her hair, which is pulled back into a simple ponytail.

“This little one is Imani.” Taehyung tickles Imani’s side gently and she wiggles in his arms with a giggle. “Would you like to say hello, Imani? Seojoon, is a friend of mine from work.”

Imani turns her head a little, her forehead still pressed into Taehyung’s chest and she stares at Seojoon shyly. Seojoon smiles and waves.

“Hello, Imani. It is very nice to meet you.”

Imani notices the ears on Seojoon’s head and her tail starts to swing with a lazy happiness. “Kitty!”

Seojoon chuckles and nods his head, “Yeah, that’s me. I’m a Havana brown cat. Have you ever seen one before?” Imani shakes her head and Seojoon slowly bends so that he is eye level with Imani. “Would you like to feel my fur? It’s really soft.”

Imani’s eyes widen and she looks over at Seokjin and Yoongi who both nod their heads. Carefully, Imani reaches out and rubs the tip of Seojoon’s ear between her fingers. She giggles and Seojoon smiles.

“You feel mine?” Imani tilts her head and Seojoon’s heart melts at the gesture. Seokjin feels his eyes start to burn and Yoongi rolls his eyes but wraps an arm around Seokjin’s waist tightly, nonetheless. The cat hybrid scratches behind Imani’s ear and she shivers from the warm touch.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Seojoon asks and Imani nods her head once he pulls his hand away. “I think your fur is the softest I have ever felt.”

Imani’s whole face heated up and Taehyung laughed as he felt the new warmth, “Making a four year old blush, the shame!” Taehyung jokes and everyone coos as Imani hides away in Taehyung’s chest once more.

Seojoon turns his attention to the rest of the Min pack and sees that Jimin is holding what looks to be clothing. “Let’s have you all get changed and we’ll do a little hair and makeup before we can start the shoot.”

The guys grumble but Taehyung tells them all to shut up and remember that this is for Imani. Two stylists each take the guys away and Imani is handed off to Seojoon. “Come on little one, let’s look at all the pretty dresses.”

Taehyung might have gone a little overboard with making dresses for Imani, but he didn’t care. The ones that she didn’t pick he could always alter for her to wear at another time. Holding Imani’s hand in his own, Seojoon leads Imani over to two rolling racks that have beautiful and fairy-like dresses in every color of the pastel rainbow. One dress is a soft beige with gold sequins all over the long sleeves with a matching sequin bow that rested in the middle of the waist with a tulle and satin tutu. Another dress is grey-silver with a rounded neckline and sleeveless with a tulle tutu with pink, peach and white tulle flowers scattered on the dress. A grey-silver tulle train falls in the back of the dress with even more flowers attached to it.

A pink mermaid dress with purple and pink tulle bows bunched on the neckline and back of the dress is next followed by a pale yellow lace dress with romantic tulle sleeves and marigolds embroidered along the hem of the tulle skirt. The choices are never ending and Soojeon chuckles to himself as Imani goes through the dresses with sparkling eyes. The men in the pack are all wearing white slacks with different styled white lace shirts made by Taehyung and Seojoon together. So, any dress that Imani picks is going to look stunning when she poses with her pack.

A sky blue satin dress with a beaded bodice has ruffled short sleeves that are meant to hug the arms. Rich floral lace with beads at the waist are followed by a tulle train that hangs from the satin and tulle skirt. The back of the dress is fastened with satin and pearl buttons. Imani’s ears flick and move on her head as she holds the skirt of the dress in her hands. Seojoon squats down and lifts the dress from the rolling rack.

“Do you want to wear this one? You can pick two.”

Imani nods her head quickly and grabs a white satin dress that has puffy short sleeves with iridescent pearls on them. The neckline is an illusion that drops into a ruffled skirt with a tulle petticoat; a large bow rests in the back at the bottom of the zipper closer. The hem of the skirt has a four inch wide strip of iridescent rainbow satin that pulls in the pearls from the sleeves. Seojoon thinks the dress will match beautifully with the silver and pearl crown that is mixed in with all the accessories. Grabbing the dress, Seojoon hooks them on his finger and offers Imani his hand once more.

“Let’s make some magic.”

“You do magic?”

Seojoon nods his head excitedly.

“I’m going to turn you into a fairy princess.”

“A princess?!”

Imani’s voice is loud and clear as she stares up at Seojoon with large, sparkling eyes. Everyone tries to muffle their laughter and Seojoon just grins.

“Come on, little one.”

Yoongi stands dressed in all white, he wears a plain white shirt with a long sleeved button up over top left open. The left shoulder has a lace paisley design and he wears a pair of mismatched gold and silver earrings. A white and gold necklace has a white and brown feather hanging against his chest and he wears two different rings on his left hand. His dark hair, now a shimmering silver. White pants and white leather shoes finish his outfit. He looks like a fairy himself, one that belongs to the twilight and Hoseok is sure to tell him so when he walks up beside him.

“And what about you, babe?” Yoongi quirks an eyebrow and Hoseok touches his own hair that has been dyed platinum blonde. “I think you’ve become a sun fairy.”

Hoseok is wearing white as well but more layers. A white button up that has long sleeves with ruffles at the bottom and sections of the sleeves are cut out, replaced with lace. A sleeveless vest is over top with a matching white and gold necklace hanging around his neck. Two rings, in both silver and gold, grace his hands and the pure white pants and leather shoes complete Hoseok’s outfit. Hoseok’s neck flushes and he bumps Yoongi with his shoulder, “Shut up and take the compliment.”

One by one the guys start to emerge from behind their sectioned off curtains and Yoongi notices that they are all wearing white lace shirts of some sort. Namjoon’s hair is now a soft blond while Taehyung’s is a lighter shade of brown and slightly curly. Jimin grins at his soulmate and pecks his lips.

“Don’t mess up your makeup, we’re ready to start!” Seojoon calls, catching everyone’s attention. The Min pack all turn around at once and their hearts collectively stop beating. Imani stands in front of Seojoon looking every bit like a true fairy princess. The dress is white and matches the rest of the pack. Imani’s hair is braided into two fishtails on either side of her head that stop just behind her ears. Thin diamond ropes are weaved into the braids and mix into the rest of her hair in the back that has been left out, curled loosely. Tiny dangling pearl earrings hang from Imani’s ear and she wears a shimmery white-silver iridescent eyeshadow and subtle rose gold highlighter. Her lips have a nude tinted lip gloss and Seokjin feels his eyes burn with tears.

“Don’t mess up your makeup!” Seojoon warns as he playfully narrows his eyes at the Min pack.

“Princess Imani, I love it!” Jungkook gushes as he rushes over to Imani and squats down in front of her. “You’re so pretty, pup!”

Imani giggles and touches Jungkook’s cheek that has been dusted with blush and silver sparkles. Jungkook offers his hand to Imani and she grabs hold of it. Standing to his full height, Jungkook grins and looks at the rest of his pack.

“Lead the way, Seojoon hyung!”

The guys are on the ground in the middle of a tiny clearing, laying in a circle with their heads all towards the middle. All the guys are holding a sunflower in their hands and Imani sits in the middle of them all. Seojoon calls her name and when Imani looks up with a smile on her face, he takes the picture. The guys all stare at Imani with tender eyes and soft smiles as she giggles at Jimin tickling her ankle. Another photo is taken and soon they pick another spot in the garden to take pictures that focus on just Imani. Seojoon and three other photographers let Imani run around, capturing her joy and wonder with easy clicks of a button.

A fourth woman, video tapes the whole session since Seojoon plans on making a video edit of today to give the Min pack. Imani finds a pond filled with different breeds of large goldfish and the surprise on her face is priceless. Wide eyes and mouth open as she sits on the rock border of the pond. Seojoon quickly removes the daisy flower crown that is hanging in the crook of his elbow and he walks over to Imani with a smile on his face. Imani’s ears twitch as he comes closer and when she looks at him, her eyes light up at the sight of the crown.

“Would you like to wear this?”

Imani nods her head quickly and Seojoon coos as he places the crown on top of Imani’s head carefully, making sure not to mess up her hair. Her ears sit just inside of the crown and when Seojoon steps away, he nods his head. Imani looks cute, like a real forest fairy. Moving out of the way, Seojoon and the others take pictures as Imani looks at her reflection in the pond.

One goldfish stays near the surface of the pound and Imani’s tail swishes in happiness. Namjoon walks over and sits with Imani to make sure that she doesn’t lean too far into the pond. Holding onto the back of her skirt, Namjoon smiles as Imani points to the goldfish and Namjoon watches as the goldfish swims closer to the edge of the pond.

The goldfish comes closer, its mouth breaking the surface and Imani squeals as it spits water. Namjoon jumps from the sudden wetness that hits his chest and Imani laughs as the fish swims away. Namjoon pouts and Imani stands on the edge of the pond. She wraps her arms around Namjoon’s shoulders and hugs his head.

“It’s otay, Nammie!” Imani takes her flower crown off and sets it on top of Namjoon’s head. She kisses the top of his head and jumps down from the pond. “Jinnie, look it! Nammie is pwetty!”

The guys smile and laugh as Namjoon’s face heats up in embarrassment but he’s thankful for Imani’s kindness nonetheless. Imani runs over to Seokjin and jumps into his arms, giggling as the alpaca hybrid spins her around. All together the Min pack continue on with their tour of the gardens, stopping at different places when Imani sees something she likes or Seojoon wants to get a shot. Taking a break, the group waits for the staff to bring lunch and Imani has a large smock placed over her dress before she sits on a blanket.

“So, after lunch we will have Imani change into her second dress and take individual photos of her with each of you. Once we’re done that, I thought it would be nice if Imani wanted to shift to get a few photos like that as well.” Seojoon explains the schedule for the rest of the day and Jimin makes a silly face as Imani’s tail brushes against his hand.

The other photographers still take photos while the pack eats, catching candid moments that speak of just how much the pack cares for each other. Yoongi wiping something from Imani’s mouth, Jungkook and Taehyung feeding each other, Jimin laying his head in Imani’s lap while she plays with his hair, and Hoseok’s mouth open wide as he laughs while Namjoon and Seokjin smile at him. All are moments that Seojoon is happy to have captured on camera for the pack to see later on.

Somehow the flower crown makes its way to all the members and Seojoon thinks that Jimin, Seokjin and Yoongi pull it off the best. Seokjin’s fluffy white ears poke out from the green stems, Jimin’s sultry stare softens only slightly and Yoongi is something out of a fantasy novel. Soon after lunch, Imani is changed into the sky blue satin dress that has the beaded bodice, ruffle sleeves and tulle train. The pearl and diamond barrettes in her hair are replaced with a silver crown that has diamonds covering it.

The Min pack take photos with Imani one on one, deciding that it is best to keep them candid before they pose. Hoseok offers that they play a game of hide and seek to which everyone agrees. They make it easy for Imani to find them all one by one and those are the photos that Seojoon enjoys. Namjoon hiding behind a tall thin tree, Yoongi using a large leaf of a tree to try and hide himself, Jungkook sitting up high in a tree while his tail hangs low and Taehyung peeking out of a bunch of flowers.

Imani finds Seokjin pretending to be a tree, Jimin uses his flexibility and poses just like the statue of the water fountain behind him while Hoseok hides behind the entrance of the maze. Seojoon thinks the one on one candid photos are wonderful and he loves the posed photos as well.

Each member of the pack walks with Imani in the maze, some hold her hand, others carry her or hold both hands while she walks in front of them. Imani smiles in every photo, her eyes sparkling as love silently engulfs her whole being from the Min pack. Taehyung muffles a laugh as he watches Imani crash into Yoongi’s legs and he lifts her into his arms. She yawns and cuddles into the scent gland at his neck. Yoongi rests his chin on top of Imani’s head and rubs her back.

“I think now is a good time to call it,” Yoongi announces as he looks at Seojoon and his pack, “I don’t want to force anything more if the pup is tired.”

Seojoon’s tail flicks behind his back and he looks up from his camera. “I have more than enough photos. I can sort through them and send everything over to Taehyung in an email.” Seojoon smiles as Imani’s tail wraps around Yoongi’s wrist and he tells his crew to start packing up once they reach room thirteen. Yoongi helps Imani take her dress off and puts on her regular clothing, a pair of black shorts, a yellow t-shirt, black tube socks with two white stripes and a pair of white adidas. One of Seojoon employees helps to take out Imani’s hair and pulls it into a ponytail that rest at the back of her head.

Saying goodbye to everyone, Seojoon is surprised when Imani opens her arms for him while she is still in Yoongi’s arms. Seojoon silently asks for permission to hold the pup and Yoongi nods his head. Seojoon takes Imani into his arms and his heart melts as the little girl wraps her arms around his neck. Seojoon's tail curls around Imani’s ankle and her own tail wraps around his forearm.

“It was nice meeting you, Imani. I had a lot of fun today.”

“We ‘ave lot of fun! Tank you!” Imani kisses Seojoon’s check and turns around in his arms to go back to Yoongi. As Yoongi takes Imani back into his arms, she yawns once more. “We nap now, Yoonie?”

Yoongi kisses Imani’s temple and nuzzles his nose into her hair. “Yes, pup. We can nap in the car.”

“Say bye-bye to Seojoon-ssi,” Taehyung instructs softly and Imani yawns again, making everyone melt.

“Bye-bye,” Imani’s voice is soft as she fights her sleep and Seojoon’s heart melts as he gives a little wave to Imani.

Everyone says their goodbyes to Seojoon and his crew before they exit the room and form a circle once more. Taehyung goes back into the middle of the circle and he takes Imani from Yoongi, holding Imani to his chest. Her tail sneaks around his wrist and she reaches out for Jimin making Jimin smile as he takes Imani and hands the bags of their clothing to Taehyung. Still Imani keeps her tail curled around Taehyung’s wrist and Jimin rubs her back, humming softly as they leave the garden. By the time the pack reaches the cars, Imani is half asleep in Jimin’s arms and Seokjin decides that he will switch cars with Jungkook for the drive home.

“Everyone buckled?” Seokjin glances in the rearview mirror and Taehyung gives a silent thumbs up as Imani sits between himself and Jimin, her tail still wrapped around his wrist while her head lays on Jimin’s upper arm. “Let’s get this pup home and in bed for a late nap.”

#poly!bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts hybrid au #bts fic #bts parent au #bts x oc #divider by saradika #fic: take on the world #totw ch 8

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aquarium-ina-bag · 1 year

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Where Danger Finds Me, it Follows with Tides - 7

'Cause you live in my day dreams ch. 7

Word count: 2.7k

Relationships: Wednesday x Reader (She/they)

Warnings: Mention of blood, pain, bullets.

A/N: So sorry I took so long had a project anyyywaayyyy, if I do breaks again Im able to do drabbles so ask away. I have an Idea for a side au with Jenna, just confused about how I'm gonna use this character R and actor R (Gasp spoilers, wtv) enjoy, give suggestions yatta yatta.

Small conversations spread among the bar, bottles hitting stained, polished wood and smooth granite countertops, and low music playing. It definitely wasn’t a big bar, but it was the home of drunken souls in the outskirts of Jericho. And tonight it housed hopeful, evil, and grieving souls.

The door swung open, hitting the bell. A small three-man group raised their heads to see the newcomer as the bartender gave his regular warm smile to the eccentric man.

"Evenin’ James, usual?" The bartender cleaned a glass, ready to serve.

"Nah nah, I need somethin’ tougher; I’m ina surprising mood tahnigh’ hit me hard." James was practically jumping and shaking.

The bartender started to pour him a fireball.

"Well, gee, it seems like you've got something heavy already." He slid the glass across the counter.

James quickly caught it and brought himself to the table of three men. He threw his head back and drank with speed. "Fellas, I got that damn thing that's been killin’ my livestock." He slammed his hands on the wooden table.

The three of them laughed, and one spoke up. "The fucking big creature you saw, with the big claws and skin like a lagoon?" Dune made gestures to mock James' description.

"Nah na! It’s real, but this one had wings! My god, the size of them nevah seen before, the tips nosebleed red, and it-it-it got deeper colah at the base." James tossed around his arms to depict this creature of the night "OH! And-and-and when I shot the bitch, the speed it took was incredible! Even though I shot it in the wing, damn it was moving maybay 300 miles?"

The group looked at the man in front of them like he was on shrooms, he sure acted like it. The bigger male chuckled, "So you’re saying some big ass peregrine falcon, has been taking your sheep, and when you shot it, it left at the speed of 300 miles per hour?"

"No, no, Harlow, it gave me my sheep back! It done dropped the sheep back in the pen, ALIVE! The damn hooves were painted pink! Fuckin pink!" James explained.

The men were invested now. "You got two creatures in your fences now?" Harlow asked.

"Yes! One is killing them, the other is saving them. Like an angel." James fawned over his findings.

Chuck took a sip of his beer before speaking. "Well, you said it was dark and bloody lookin’, don’t sound like no angel to me."

"What would I call it then?" James questioned his ideas.

"I say call it a blood hawk, it’s easy to identify," Harlow said as he toyed with the ring of condensation on the wood. "Also, go buy one of them cameras that videos motion."

The bartender couldn’t hold his words anymore. "Say, you know what’s known for having creepy abnormalities, that Nevermore school miles away. That lagoon creature you were talking about James, I think it’s been seen there plenty of times."

The bartender pushed a glass towards a shaggy brown-haired man, his hair long, as were the scars on his face as if he were mauled by a beast. The man’s clothes looked so mismatched and ripped; he had a beard starting to grow; and he looked homeless but still had money to buy a drink. This man couldn’t help but listen to the conversation; he made clear, surprised expressions at the words ‘Nevermore’ ‘Blood hawk’ ‘sheep’ and ‘alive’. All this man could do was hum in acknowledgment.

"I’ll look into it once I get home." James smiled and continued to change the subject.

—————-

"Wednesday I know you usually don’t regret things, but I honestly feel so awful about hurting Y/n," Enid said with her chin on her school desk, her body droopy.

Sure, that is true Wednesday doesn’t feel regret, but everything she regrets on her mind is rooted in because of you, she regrets ever talking to you, accepting your dual, working on the project with you, letting you see something vulnerable in her—she regrets a lot when it comes to you.

"They said it was fine." What Wednesday really regretted was letting you leave and trusting that you would take care of yourself. She hasn’t seen you all morning. The thought of you bleeding out that whole night banged on her cranium.

Enid turned to face the goth, laying her cheek on the cold wood. "You don’t really believe that." Wednesday regrets not smothering her roommate, and Enid started to understand Wednesday’s ‘signs’. The raven stayed silent, keeping it that way the whole period.

When it was over, she took her free period to confirm that Enid hadn’t murdered you. She checked the gym; you weren’t there. Wednesday looked where you feed birds; no luck. She entered your dorm to find clutters of paper and files scattered around your desk. As if a voice was pulling her into the room, Wednesday walked in and shut the door behind her, making a careful walk across the room to your desk. The floorboards creaking had an unusual pattern as if someone were in the room with her. The raven was on edge but still curious; determined to find out why you were gone.

The goth inspected the papers on your desk. Pictures of the farm you two went to, papers containing information about the owner of said farm. What really stuck out were documents from the U.S. government. How in the world were you able to access something like this? The thought that you were taken by the FBI could make her chuckle. Wednesday shuffled the small stack, trying to get them back in order. When the order was found, Wednesday couldn’t stop reading.

In brief, the documents explain how an ‘anomaly’ that was captured in December of last year escaped a government vehicle, killing four of the six men in said vehicle. This creature never made it to the lab for testing, questioning, and possible execution. This creature could be conjured by American citizen Tyler Galpin.

Tyler was out, and that was him; he was still lurking in the towns, waiting for his next victim.

Wednesday looked around for anything that could reveal she was here, and when she turned to the glass screen door, a shine drew her in like everything else in this room.

Unlocking it and stepping onto the concrete, she looked down to find a bullet that was almost perfectly clean. Why would you have a perfect bullet here? The casing was gone, so this was fired.

This curious black cat bent down to pick up the fired bullet. Her head was shot backward, and scenes dashed and flashed across her vision.

Fingers that weren’t yours loading ammunition in a firearm; the bullet flying into feathered flesh, then deeper into warm blood and muscle; with her perspective being the bullet, Wednesday felt layers decompressing her. From what she could guess, it was feathers falling off, then skin, then muscles. The bullet dropped in a pool of blood; something or more of a surplus made a horrific shriek as if it was getting brutally attacked. She couldn’t tell what made it, and the warmth of blood left her after the vision ended.

Once the vision was over, Wednesday moved her head back. It felt as if someone was beating her skull; that never happens with visions, but that aside, what did she just see? Wednesday began to make a hypothesis, clearly, this was past, not future, and this bullet wasn’t yours, but she couldn’t be sure if you fired the weapon, it was shot in some bird, but why was the bullet removed like that, layer by layer? What was that screaming?

The girl’s head was pounding, and before she left your room, she took the bullet, the papers. She wanted to find some type of DNA in the room, but her head said otherwise.

—————-

Something was wrong; your brain was triggering some sort of defensive reaction, and you didn’t understand what was triggering it. You’re trained to keep your brain in full control, to know when you’re being psychologically attacked, and currently, the right and left sides of your brain are disagreeing with something. Before you can get the problem fixed, you need to know the problem. That could wait though.

"I really need to train back home again." You muttered to the wind, and it raced past as if responding.

You smiled as you continued to walk along the side of a gravel road. This scenery wasn’t better than the woods with Wednesday; did you even look at the view when you were with Wednesday? What were you focused on?

This constant questioning of yourself was scaring you. Your family described you as a person, with no limits, but you had to be in control of your whole body, and recently you weren't. Maybe that’s why you're triggering a defensive response.

You stopped at a small home surrounded by flat, crop-growing land, knocking on the door before you looked yourself up and down. With a small smirk, you thought the outfit looked like a hitman in the winter decked out in dark, puffy clothes. Hey, it was close to the beginning of winter.

Once the door opened, a taller man, maybe 2 inches taller than you, greeted you with a grimace.

"Well, who the hell is you? Matrix-looking kid. All these damn new fashion trends." His accent was a deep Southern one.

You chuckled before speaking, "You, James Turner?" Your hands shuffled in that dark, puffy jacket, pulling out a picture of the man in front of you.

"Who’s asking?" He got closer to you, and smelled like booze.

You've shown him the photo now. "There’s a problem if someone did." You murdered someone, sir?" He could have the other night if your thesis was right.

"I ain’t kill nobody, did I?" Bingo. James started to get a little scared, you could read it off his body language.

"Well, I heard a complaint about some gunfire, and when I asked around for you, I heard you shot something." Part of that was a lie, you didn't really ask, just lots of tabs closing at a bar.

James looked like a child getting caught with their hand in a cookie jar; he was going to break. "Listen, somethin’ been stealing my animals. I was waiting to shoot it last night, then this big bird-like person dropped a sheep in the pen, and I shot at it."

Your face scrunched in confusion. "Why would you shoot something, dropping your sheep back off? And you said human-looking? You were going to just kill a person like that?" You took steps forward, and James kept backing up until both of you were in the house.

"I jus wan-tah to catch em’ , Ay I don’t even think that was them! Something else was killing my animals, it was green and-and-and large, eyes like a bug." Tsk tsk James, the hole he dug just kept getting bigger.

You were so close in his space that he tripped into a seat. "So you shot something that you wanted to catch even though it helped you; it wasn’t even the creature that was killing! What were you going to do, James? When you caught it, that is."

"I I I." He sure does stutter you noted, "I was gonna report it for stealing."

You gripped the table, did it crunch? James questioned. "What’s the story, Turner? You said it gave back…"

"You’re right It was, it was." He was sweating badly.

"Good, so you understand that you committed attempted murder? Correct?" Your voice was deathly low. "It can be a pretty hefty sentence, James."

He watched you move around his house, preparing a glass of water, before sitting across from him.

"I’m going to jail?" He looked on the verge of tears.

You paused before speaking, a clicking sound filled your silence. "Yes, if you refuse to comply with me." You took a long sip of water, making Turner wait in anguish. "Heard you’re gonna set up cameras around this place, I want you to set up cameras around the woods, set up baits, get as much footage of this killing creature as you can, and hand all of the footage, pictures, and what you baited with to me. Sound simple?"

"Course, anything yes, please, I jus don’t wanna go to jail." He nodded like a bobblehead.

"Perfect, and don’t think you can escape this; I've got all the information to make a court session last less than 10 minutes." You smiled and finished the glass. Quickly grabbing a pen and paper, you wrote one of your numbers and labeled it, 'Turn in footage work and info here'

"Cya round James Turner." And just like that, after scaring this older male, you left, walking back to Nevermore.

———————

This headache wanted to make Wednesday have a lobotomy or struck like Zeus to get Athena out. She could barely piece together the papers in front of her. Enid watched her struggle to work, pointing it out like always.

"What’s up with you? I feel like this is easy."

"My head has been in pain since I had that vision, usually that doesn’t happen," Wednesday explained as she moved the sheets and note cards around the board.

Enid knew that if the pain was really bothering her, this headache was something from hell. "Hm, do you want to take something? Or maybe take a break?"

"I did; it got worse." Wednesday's face barely scrunched as she spoke. "I don’t need a break either."

Thumps on the door broke the conversation; they both looked at each other, then Enid went to open it.

You stood there with a toothy grin and said, "Hey Sinclair, where’s Wednesday?"

"I don’t know if she would be up for a date, Y/n, she’s got a raging headache." Enid knew Wednesday stole from you, so she had to make somewhat of an excuse.

You paused for a second. "I, uhm, no, I’m not here for that, she has something I ne-"

Enid shut the door in your face and said, "They know!" Whisper yelling to the goth. All she did was nod and signal to let you in.

Enid slowly opened the door to let you in; once you did, Wednesday’s now migraine blared. She gripped the side table near her.

"Evening Addams, I’m guessing you know why I’m here." You walked closer to her, maybe 5 inches away from her now.

"Why," she paused to take a breath, "why do you have them?"

You raised a brow and said, "I could ask the same." You whispered, getting closer to her ear. "You can get in trouble if you have them; I know how to take care of them." Also, you have a vision?"

Wednesday wanted to make sure this wasn’t some fake whispering again, so she clutched the bottom of your shirt. For you, it seemed like desperation. She released you and went to take the papers.

"Yes." Wednesday handed the papers back. Just like that, the pain was gone, and she could think straight now.

"Doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?" This no-distance whispering with you was going to kill Wednesday; it made her feel sick again.

She slowly nodded, and with that, you backed up and said your goodbyes, then left.

So many holes—how did you know about the papers? Where have you been all day? How did the vision connect with the headaches? How did you fix it? What trouble did you mean? Why do you have those papers? What were you going to do with it? Her loud thinking was blocked.

"So no more evidence?" Enid asked.

"The bullet—I still have it."

"Well, it is like almost 12. Let’s look at it tomorrow. Also, who comes to someone’s door at 11? Also, what did she tell you? I couldn’t hear, over the sound of you two practically making out with each other's whispering. Wait a minute, you didn’t even whisper; you just nodded. What was that about? Whatever, that's a question for tomorrow. I’m too tired, night Addams." Enid threw herself onto her bed and crashed to sleep.

Wednesday, on the other hand, couldn’t do the same; she needed to get answers.

#jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x y/n #Where danger finds me it follows with tides #WDFMIFWT

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