#just have to finish unpacking from moving to see lol

[imsosillygoofylol]

TRIGGERED

pairing: matt sturniolo x poc!reader

synopsis: y/n helps a murder suspect not knowing what she got herself into.

warnings: death, mental illness, smoking, tattoos, i THINK that’s it.

envy yaps: lol i wrote something like this before a WHILE back but this one will be better trust 😋 anyways let’s pray and hope i actually finish this 🙏🏾

“and we’re done!” you say finally excited to almost be leaving. you just finished working on my last customer of the night. “you can walk up to the mirror to see for yourself.” you mumble while cleaning up.

“ ‘s beautiful thank you so much!” she smiles eagerly as she examines her freshly done butterfly tattoo on her rib.

“yeah you’re welcome, you already know the tattoo after care i don’t have to go over it do i?” you asked already knowing her answer. layla was a regular you’ve done like 4 of her tats already.

“nah i know how to take care of my shit thank you very much.” she declared while carefully rolling down her shirt.

you giggle and give her a smile while you finish cleaning up. “here ma, thank you so much again you always get me right.” she passes you a couple bills with a big smile on plastered on her face. “ahh i love them i’ve been thinking about getting butterflies for a while now you ate down” she screamed while looking at herself in the mirror again.

you take the money and put it in your backpack as you let out another giggle. “you’re welcome”. you love your job, aside from the good pay you literally just get to draw cute things on people and they’re happy.

“alright my uber outside bye y/n thanks again” she leaves, the room now silent once again.

you finished cleaning up and you get up to lock the door as you’re now closed before you continue to prep things for tomorrow.

you finally had time to check your phone and you see the time.

11:56 PM

you see all the missed texts and calls from your mom. she always wants you to call her at the end of the day knowing there’s not much to talk about anyway. your days usually blend into each other, all you do is go to school and work. not that you don’t have a life aside from those two things, it just takes up most of your time.

you break away from your phone as you hear a knock on the door. you make my way to the front. “we’re closed” you mumble. startling the boy a little. you examine the boy he was wearing a plain black shirt, white shorts, and birkenstock’s. you knew who he was.

nick sturniolo

not that you knew each other, you knew of him. you’ve seen him around campus and his family’s like stupid rich. he’s a triplet however only two of them actually attend college. you don’t know anything about the other one, you have seen him at a party once though that’s about it.

his blonde hair layes just right above his eyes. he looks like he’d been crying all night. that or he’s just really high. he looks sickly though really pale but somehow he still looked really pretty.

“can i help you?” you finally spoke out as you unlock and open the door. this is weird why is he here so late at night you think to yourself.

“are you still open?” he asks his voice so soft yet deep.

what a stupid question to ask, the door was locked and the open sign was off. we’re visibly closed!

“sorry we’re closed. you can schedule an appointment for tomorrow though.” you say trying to sound as nice as possible.

“please i’ll pay twice as much, i really need this please.” he begs.

you start to feel bad, really wanting to go home but cant bring myself to say no. he looks like he’s about to break down into tears you can’t just leave him like this.

“uh okay come in.” you say moving out the way to let him in and lead him to the room. “um what would you like to get done?” you asked dryly.

“have you seen the movie edward scissorhands before?” he asked bringing his phone up to your face to show you what he wants.

“yeah a couple times, where do you want it?” you ask while unpacking the supplies needed.

“right here on my calf.” he points to the side of his calf. he had another tattoo closer to his ankle of two pokémon characters.

you slowly start tracing the design. what’s so important about this tattoo anyway that he had to come at 12 am. you’ve watched the movie a couple times, yeah it’s good but is it worth a tattoo or coming this late for one. you mentally curse myself for not being able to say no.

“you from here?” he asked looking down at you.

“nah im from new york city, i just go to school here.” you say keeping your focus on the tattoo.

“hm how long? i’ve never seen you around here.” he stated.

“about two years now, i don’t really go out much or talk to many people from here.” you continue working. the room was silent for the rest of the night, only thing audible was the faint music playing on the tv.

“k im done!” you smile down at your work. “is it okay if i take a couple pictures?”

“yeah it’s fine looks amazing by the way. thank you so much.” he examines the scissor hands tattoo as you take a couple pictures from different angles. “how much do i owe you?”

“one fifty.” you state turning around to clean up. he turns in your direction passing four one hundred bills to you. “oh no i can’t take this, it’s only one fifty.”

“no honestly take it, i came when you were closing please ill feel even worse if you don’t!” you nod your head and put the money in your backpack. “i really can’t thank you enough it looks amazing, do you have a business card? i’d love to come back sometime i love your work.” he starts to ramble and you let out a laugh.

“yeah they’re here in the front, you can take one as you walk out. you’re welcome it’s really no biggie.” it was though you have a morning class tomorrow and it’s nearly 3 am. you try to stay positive and not let your attitude slip out.

“hey i didn’t get your name.” he mentions

“oh it’s y/n.”

“nick.”

“oh i know trust me.” you think to yourself while you smile at him.

you explain the tattoo after care even though nobody ever listens. he finally leaves which means you can finally leave. you love your work and all but it’s so draining. you close up the shop and finally get in my car, the drive to your apartment isn’t far only 8 minutes but tonight it feels like an eternity.

you like driving though it calms you down, helps you think. you make it to your parking spot and really process what the fuck just happened. not that it’s outta this world cause growing up in new york you’ve seen and experienced some crazy shit but that was weird. you had so many questions but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable so you decided it was best to mind your business.

you finally make it to your apartment, happy to shower and get in bed but even happier to see your cat luna after a long ass day. you unlock your door set your things down on your counter.

“luna mama where are you?” you call out waiting for her to pop out from somewhere. “luna baby where are you?” she comes from underneath the couch, you bend down to pick her up and smother her with kisses. saying i miss you and i love you. you feel bad she hasn’t been getting the attention she deserves lately, you barely see her due to school and work. all of a sudden everyone wants a tattoo.

you finally shower enjoying the hot water run down your body calming you. not a single negative thought in your mind. you start to think if should you smoke after or fall asleep.

you get out the shower and check the time.

3:48 am

“fuck i gotta be up at 9.” you sigh, you need to stop taking appointments past 10 pm and leave it to the other artist. you’re always the last one to leave the shop.

❀᭢͏ུ  

you groan hearing you alarm going off wising you could stay in bed forever. knowing it’s not possible and missing class is not an option especially not when your paper is due next week. you get up and get ready, putting water and food in lunas bowl before leaving and driving to campus.

you don’t live far from campus only a twelve minute drive. you hate being late though just the thought of everyone staring at you and observing your every move while trying to get situated makes you so uncomfortable. it feels like you’re interrupting an important conversation or meeting so you choose to be early or well on time.

you make it to class with five minutes to spare, sitting there just scrolling through your phone waiting for your professor to start the lesson. there was nothing special about todays lesson, taking notes and finishing up the paper.

ten minutes before class was over the professor started to talk about a situation that happened earlier this morning.

“as some of you may know there was a tragic incident that happened at around four thirty am this morning.” he paused for a second trying to gather all his thoughts, trying to use the right words before continuing. “the sturniolo family was brutally murdered, some knew nicolas sturniolo. he was a great student and a great friend to all. may he rest in peace.”

as he finished your face dropped, there was many whispers heard through out the class. this is all too confusing, you had just seen him.

your thoughts were cut off by the professor speaking again. “please appreciate all the people around you while they’re here, you never know what can happen. his brother is suffering from a great loss please respect his privacy.”

his brother? which brother?

people continued to whisper “i heard his brother went crazy and murdered them all.” said a random girl. “i heard it was nicks stalker, he was infatuated with him and when nick rejected him he couldn’t stand it.” another said. this is all so stupid. why do people jump to conclusions and spread rumors without knowing what really happened.

you started to feel overwhelmed you had to go home. before you left through the door, the professor said one last thing. “also the police will come by tomorrow and question some of you, please be sure to be early tomorrow morning. thank you all and please be safe”

with that you went home, you can’t come back to your afternoon classes it was all too much. did he know something was gonna happen? is that why he looked sad? you assumed it might of been a boy or something. not something this big.

you arrive at your house, trying to gather all your thoughts. not that you’re sad, you didn’t even know the boy but you can’t help but feel sorry for him, his family.

you tried to sleep, sleeping was like your therapy. or well not therapy just a way of not dealing with your emotions for the time being. sleeping was hard though, every time you closed your eyes you would see him.

you decide the beach was a good option. sometimes when you felt lonely or depressed you would go to the beach, smoke, and draw. it was calming, made you feel like you were the only person left in the world. usually you enjoyed your own company, you found peace in being alone. one of your traits your mom despised. she wanted you to go out more, explore, experience, have fun. not be locked away in the house when you’re not in school or at work.

you lie and tell her you do other things but she doesn’t believe you. she says she knows you more than you know yourself but she doesn’t understand you.

Y/N

hey mom i’m going to the beach i’ll call you when i get home.

sorry i haven’t called or texted much i’ve been super busy.

love you :)

you spent your afternoon at the beach, watching the sunset, hitting your blunt every now and then, sketching random flowers on your book. you could go on and on about flowers if you could, even nature.

you finally check the time when it’s fully dark deciding its a bit dangerous to be out so late considering what just happened around the area.

8:27 pm

you decide to pick up some pizza and call it a day. trying to mentally prepare yourself for tomorrow. you really want to call of work tomorrow feeling like there too much going on around you. it was overwhelming, you think you’re overreacting none of this really affects you in anyway so why do you have this suffocating feeling? you feel like you’re literally drowning.

“luna you have it so easy mama, i’d love to be a house cat not a single worry in the world.” you sigh while rubbing her tummy as she purs.

❀᭢͏ུ  

envy yaps: ermmm i can’t tell if this is good or not lol. guys trust the process frrr i swear it’ll get juicyyyy in the next part😈😈😋😋. anyways comment to be on taglist or wtv 😅😋😈😍🙏🏾

🏷️ ‘s

@tastesousweet

[callsign-dexter]

Together Against the World

Request: ok love bare with me on this plz lol 😂

so I was wondering if you could write a hangman x sister reader?

like maybe the little sister is significantly younger than hangman but after some incident he got full custody of her (you can choose what happened) and maybe the dagger team don’t know until they see him playing with her on the beach so they go over and question him about it and he explains but they are all in shock (because who could not be after seeing someone like Jake with a kid) at first they think the reader is his kid but Jake explains that even though legally you are we are only his sister. Maybe even the reader falls and gets hurt and Jake goes into full on loving parent mode.

maybe the reader is like 5

anyways sorry for the word dump and this is 100% your choice sorry for my bad punctua

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Sister!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, car crash

Masterlist

Nobody ever thinks that a tragedy could happen to them until it does, they always think “That’ll never happen to me.” but the funny thing about tragedy is that it doesn’t care who you are. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin thought the same way until he got the news that his parents and his 1-year-old sister, you, were in an accident and it had instantly killed his parents and that he needed to come pick his sister up from the hospital in Texas. You had some broken bones and some cuts and bruises but you were ok. Jake had to go to court and fill out paperwork and go before a judge for him to get full custody of you considering that your sister had been in the picture for a while. Besides Jake wouldn’t let anyone else have you after all he was your favorite.

4 years later you were now 5 years old and living your best life with your brother and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sure, you moved a lot but as long as you had Jake nothing mattered. Jake loves having you around and wouldn’t change a thing and it changed his life for the better. He hadn’t been picking up random chicks from the bar and his drinking was cut down considerably. Not many people knew about you and Jake liked to keep it that way, it was a way to protect you, the only people that knew about you were the ones that needed to know like the higher-ups in the Navy. Jake hated pulling you out of schools and shoving you into new ones but all that would change after this special detachment you had brought it up one night during dinner before the move. Jake had noticed you were quiet and that concerned him since you were a mini version of him.

“Jakey?” You asked as you pushed food around on your plate.

“Yes, Peach?” He asked you, Peach, a nickname that came from you eating and loving peaches.

“Are we ever gonna stay in one place?” You asked him, looking at him with green doe eyes. Jake stopped eating and looked at you.

“I promise after this special detachment I’m putting in a request for a permanent station.” He said and you nodded “Finish your supper and get ready for bed I’ll be up to read to you after I clean up.” He said and you nodded. You both finished and you were off to get ready for bed. As you were getting ready for bed and Jake was cleaning up, he began thinking to himself about how your whole life was uprooted. He hated that you couldn’t grow attached to babysitters or make friends because you ended up moving in a month after getting to the new station. He promised to himself that he would put in a request to stay at Top Gun just so you didn’t have to keep moving around. As he finished up putting food away and cleaning the kitchen, he headed upstairs in your rental base house and to your room. As he was walking, he was looking at all the boxes packed and ready to go and when he reached your room and saw all of the boxes that had yet to be unpacked, he felt sad and frowned but that didn’t last long because he looked at you smiling at him. He read to you until you were asleep and then he turned the light out and cracked the door. Jake didn’t go to bed right away, instead he sat on the couch and grabbed his computer and started to look at a house in lovely Miramar. He figured he would move a week before that way he could get you settled and buy some furniture. After an hour of searching, he found the perfect one close to the beach, base, and schools and they had good ratings. He smiled and requested an appointment to look at it when you both arrived there in the morning. Jake closed his laptop and got ready for bed himself.

The next morning, he was up bright and early moving boxes into his truck and the mini trailer had hitched to the back. When he got to your room, he was sure to be quiet and got all of the boxes and then he decided to wake you up. “Hey, Y/N/N. Time to wake up. You can sleep in the truck.” He said and he heard you groan but you woke up and rubbed your eyes and nodded he raised your hands up and he chuckled. He stood up and picked you up and carried you out to the truck. He gently carried you down the stairs and you clung to him like your life depended on it and true to your fashion you fell asleep on him. He swore you could fall asleep anywhere and he was envious of it. When he got you situated in the truck he went back and did a once through making sure both of you had gotten everything as well as grabbing your sheets and comforter. When he got back to the truck you were still sleeping like a rock and he chuckled and shook his head, he tossed the sheets and comforter into the trailer in a box and then he got into the truck and started the 5 hr. drive from Lemoore to Miramar.

2 hrs. into the drive you had woken up and he kept you entertained with anything he could and you both stopped and got food at an IHop and then were back on the road. The rest of the ride was filled with off key singing and games. Your big brother was your world and everything you wanted in a male figure. “Are we there yet?” You asked, looking up at him and Jake chuckled.

“15 more minutes.” He said

“Fine.” You huffed but rolled your eyes and sighed and he chuckled. “But 15 minutes is too long.” You whined.

“Play on your tablet and it’ll go by faster.” He said and you grabbed it and your attention was focused on that. Music was playing softly in the background for Jake’s entertainment. True to his word 15 minutes did go by fast and you were pulling into a neighborhood and you looked up and forward your brow.

“Jakey?” You asked and he looked up.

“What’s up, Peach?” He asked

“What are we doing?” You asked

“Looking at a house.” He said and you nodded. He parked in the driveway and got out and then got you out and sat you down and then he saw the relator walk up to him.

“Good afternoon! I’m Alicia London. You must be Jake Seresin. I must say you have a beautiful daughter.” She said and Jake shook his head and smiled. He got that all the time.

“Yes, I’m Jake but this is my sister.” He said as you hid further into his leg.

“My apologies!” She said, embarrassed.

“No worries, ma’am.” He said

“Shall we have a look at the house?” She asked and he nodded. As you both were getting a tour, he was loving it especially the backyard. As they finished, he was smiling. “So, what do you think?” She asked.

“It’s perfect. I wanna go ahead and buy it. It’s in my price range and it’s a good distance from the base and school.” He said and she seemed shocked.

“Of course, Mr. Seresin. I’ll get the paperwork started and you can move in today.” She said and he nodded.

“That would be great. Also please call me Jake. Mr. Seresin has since passed.” Jake said and she nodded and walked out of the room he turned to look at you.

“What do you think?” He asked and you seemed to look around for a minute.

“I like it!” You shouted and he smiled. Alicia walked back in.

“Good news! You got the house since no others were interested in it and here is the key.” She said and handed it to him. “All I need you to do is sign the papers and then the rest can be handled at a later time.” She said and he smiled. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you settle in and I’ll be in contact.” She said and he nodded and left. Jake started to move everything in with your help and once everything was set up you both went shopping. First you went to furniture stores and found everything you both liked and then the grocery store. The furniture was delivered the same day and in about an hour everything was put together and ready to go.

When Jake dropped you off at your new school the next morning he had stopped by the bank and got everything sorted and now it was time for him to figure things out like finding a babysitter for you. He met with a lot of people but he settled for an 18-year-old that was going to school and needed a part time job named Bailey. When he went to pick you up from school you were in much better spirits and loving Miramar.

===============================

A week passed quickly and now it was time for him to go and meet his squad while you stayed home with your new babysitter. When she got there, he introduced you two and both of you hit it off. As he was preparing to leave, he got down on your level “You be good for Bailey and do what she says. Understand?” He asked in a parental tone and you nodded.

“You got it, Jakey!” You said and hugged him he hugged you back and turned to Bailey.

“If you have any problems or questions don’t hesitate to call. I should be back by 10:30.” He said and she nodded.

“You got it, Jake.” She said and he bid you both a goodbye and then left. When Jake got to the Hard Deck nobody else was there but he didn’t have to last long because Javy was calling out his name and they greeted each other.

“Long time no see man!” Javy said and they both smiled.

“You got that right!” Jake said as they grabbed drinks from Penny and they thanked her and walked over to the pool table and dart board.

“How’s Y/N doing?” Javy asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“Settling in better than i expected. She loves her new school and her babysitter.” Jake said, throwing a dart and then taking a drink of his beer. They continued to talk until the other showed up and after having a little argument with Bradley and throwing someone overboard along with Rooster playing the piano, it was 10 PM. “Well, I better get going.” Jake said and that shocked everyone.

“Leaving so soon, Hangman?” Bradley said and Jake just scoffed.

“Like you would want to know.” He said and walked off and out of the bar confusing his teammates.

“What do you think he is hiding? A secret family, girlfriend, or kid?” Natasha said and everybody shrugged and chipped in their answers but Javy, he knew the truth.

===============================

Jake got home right at 10:30 and parked in the driveway and headed inside. Everything was probably neater than he left it and smiled. He walked into the living room to see his baby sister and Bailey curled up on the couch and he smiled. Bailey noticed him and smiled “She wasn't too much trouble, was she?” He asked as he walked over and stroked his sister’s hair. Bailey shook her head.

“Not in the least bit. She is the sweetest little girl ever. She didn’t put up a fight when I told her to brush her teeth or get changed for bed. She wanted to stay up but as soon as we put on the second movie she was out like a light.” Bailey said standing up making sure the girl didn’t fall off the couch and Jake smiled.

“Good, she seemed to really take to you. It’s not often that happens.” Jake said as he pulled out his wallet and gave her the money.

“I really like her too. If you need me anytime, let me know.” She said and Jake nodded and walked her to the door and made sure she got her car safely and then locked the door. He walked over to Y/N and picked her up and she clung to him like her life depended on it. He walked up the stairs and to her room and gently put her into bed.

“Good night, Peach. I love you.” He said and kissed her forehead and got ready for bed himself.

===============================

Every time after training instead of going out to The Hard Deck or hanging out with the squad he would rush out of the locker room that way he could go and pick up his sister from school and hang out with her. “Hangman, you coming to The Hard Deck?” Nat asked as he collected her things.

“Nope. I got some stuff to do and someone that I need to take care of.” Jake said and headed out without a word again confusing the group.

“He’s hiding something. I wanna know what it is.” Bradley said and again they all nodded and carried on with their day and night. Javy hadn’t said a word wanting to keep Jake’s promise that he wanted to keep her a secret until they knew everything was going to be ok.

===============================

The day of the dogfight football came and they, besides Javy, were determined to get an answer out of Jake as they started playing, they didn’t bring it up. They agreed to bring it up when it was well into the game that way, he would be too focused on the game to think about anything else. “So, Hangman. Have you got anyone back home?” Bradley asked as they set up for another hike. Jake smirked.

“That is none of your business, Rooster.” Jake said as they continued to play the game. It was well into the day and the game when they decided for a break. Jake went and got his drink and checked his phone and about dropped it when he saw that he had several missed calls from Bailey and he instantly called back making sure that nobody was around him.

“Bailey. What’s wrong?” Jake asked as soon as she answered the phone.

“Jake, I’m sorry I called you so many times. Y/N’s school called and said that she had an accident at school and they rushed her to the ER. We’re still here.” Bailey said and he could hear in her voice that she was panicked.

“No, I’m sorry that I didn’t have my phone on me. I was busy with work. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Did they say what happened to her?” Jake said, already throwing on a t-shirt and grabbing his stuff.

“No, they didn’t or at least not to me. We’ll see you when you get here.” Bailey said and they hung up.

Jake walked over to Maverick, and he smiled at the young aviator but frowned when he saw his face “Everything ok?” Maverick asked and Jake shook his head.

“My sister is in the hospital. I need to go.” Jake said and Maverick nodded, he knew all about Y/N then again it was in Jake’s record.

“You go to her and take Javy with you. Tell Y/N I said hi.” Maverick said and Jake nodded and rushed off, Maverick knew those two were best friends, but not before Javy caught him.

“Everything ok with Y/N/N?” Javy asked and Jake shook his head “I’m coming with you.” He said and Jake nodded and they headed off. This didn’t go unnoticed by the rest and they instantly went to Maverick.

“Where are they off to?” Bob asked out of curiosity.

“Jake had an emergency he needed to tend to and Javy went with him.” Maverick said not wanting to spill his secret. Nobody said anything too worried about their team members.

===============================

Jake and Javy made it to the hospital in record time and went to the front desk and they led her to her room. “Jakey! Javy!” you said excitedly.

“Hey, Peach and Bailey.” Jake said and hugged you carefully.

“Hey there, Sweetie.” Javy said and then the doctor walked in.

“You must be Jake. I’m Dr. Zeke.” Dr. Zeke said and shook his hand.

“Yea that’s me. I’m her brother. What happened?” Jake asked as Bailey and Javy stepped out of the room to give them some time to talk.

“It seemed like she took a fall on the playground and was unconscious for a minute and when she woke up was a little disoriented so she was brought her. Over the few hours we have been keeping an eye on her and she seems to be improving. She’s actually ready to go home.” Dr. Zeke said and Jake nodded and they talked more and then he was signing discharge papers and they were heading home. The rest of the day and night was spent cuddling and watching movies. Javy and Bailey had left the hospital.

===============================

The mission came and went and was successful. Everyone was spending the much-needed time off the second day off they had gotten the announcement that they were officially a squadron. It was spent mostly at The Hard Deck, the beach, or with each other, surprisingly. Everyone but Jake, that is, he was spending it with you. “Jakey?” You asked as you were eating lunch and he looked up at you.

“Yes, Peach?” He asked back.

“Can we go to the beach?” You asked excitedly and he smiled.

“Of course! Do you wanna go after lunch?” He asked and you nodded enthusiastically. He chuckled “Ok, finish up and then go and get ready.” He said and he watched you quickly eat and then scamper off. He then got himself ready and a bag ready and when you padded downstairs he smiled and you two headed off to the beach. The truck ride was filled with music and singing and occasionally laughing. Jake found a spot and parked and now you two had sat off towards the beach and the water.

===============================

The Daggers, as they were officially called now, were at the beach hanging out and playing some dogfight football. As they were sitting on the beach talking and laughing along with sharing stories. A shriek caught Bradley’s attention and looked up "Is that Jake... with a child?" Rooster asked, squinting against the sun, looking at what may be his wingman. This caught everyone’s attention and looked in his direction. What they saw was Jake and a little girl in the water and Jake holding her up as a wave came up.

“I believe it is.” Nat said as they watched the both of you come out of the water/

“Should we go say hi?” Bob asked and everyone nodded so they got up and headed over. Jake saw them coming when he turned his head and he sighed, they were going to find out sooner or later. “Hey, Jake.” Bob said when they reached him.

“Hey guys.” Jake greeted and then he felt a tug on his arm and he looked down to see you looking up at him.

“Jakey?” You asked and hid further behind him while looking at the group of strangers.

“Y/N/N I want you to meet Natasha, Bradley, Bob, Ruben, and Mickey.” Jake said pointing at each and every one of them. Everyone greeted everyone and then you saw Javy.

“Javy!” You yelled out and ran to him and hugged him and he quickly picked you up and hugged you.

“We didn’t know you had a kid.” Bradley said and Jake shook his head.

“Not my kid. My sister.” Jake said as Javy put you down and you ran off to start building a sand castle as everyone went and sat down. “I got custody after our parents got into an accident when she was 1 and nobody was willing to take her.” Jake said a little mad at his siblings but he would never give you up for anything.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Bob said as you came up to them and pulled Bob up and to your sand castle so he could help and Bob couldn’t say no and he already loved you.

“She’s a good kid and once she warms up to you, she’ll be your friend for life.” Jake said and smirked pointing to Bob and you as an example. It wasn’t 10 minutes later you both came back to the group and you went to Bradley and stared at him, more specifically his mustache “Yea, Peach I had the same reaction.” He said and everyone chuckled while Bradley rolled his eyes but smiled. You touched it and then giggled and then went to your brother’s lap and sat down and then snuggled into him and was out like a light.

“Peach?” Mickey asked and Jake chuckled.

“Yea, she absolutely loves peaches.” He said and they chuckled.

“Jake, I’m glad you told us about her. She is so adorable.” Ruben said and everyone agreed.

“My old squad never cared and I didn’t trust them. The only people that know about her are the higher-ups, Maverick, Cyclone, Warlock, and Javy. But that is because she is on my record and Javy was there when I got the call and when I went to pick her up.” Jake said and Javy nodded conforming to it.

“If you need anything, I mean anything. We are here for you no matter what.” Natasha said and Jake smiled while everyone agreed.

“Thanks guys, that means so much to me.” Jake said as you moved slightly. He was very glad that he told them about you. Now he didn’t have to hide you and he had more help than ever especially when Bailey couldn’t make it. Your family just expanded to many cool aunts and uncles. You were going to be so protected.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

[captainsophiestark]

Happy Ending

Luke Castellan x Reader

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Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Day 22 Prompt: "Who takes care of you?"

Summary: What if Luke had come by to see Y/N, his pre-betrayal best friend and SO, instead of Annabeth between books 3 and 4?

Word Count: 4,189

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: I really loved the vibes of this post by @m4gp13 so this is very loosely inspired by it, even though the main body of the story doesn't have much to do with it lol

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, staring at the piles of boxes on the floor of my dorm room. The spring semester of my second year of college was just coming to a close, and I still had a lot to do to be ready for everything after it finished. I was moving into my own apartment for the summer, and needed to move from the dorm room to my new apartment. As soon as that was over, I'd planned a visit to Camp Half-Blood, the training camp for heroes I kept going back to, even though I was technically an adult.

I needed to pack everything in my dorm, move it to my apartment, and then be able to unpack everything I'd need for a few weeks visiting camp. This packing job would need to be strategically worthy of Athena.

I'd just barely managed to psych myself up to get started when a knock came at my door. I huffed a sigh, but I really didn't mind the distraction all that much.

"Coming!" I called. I glanced out the peep hole, then froze solid when I saw Luke Castellan staring back at me.

My heart stopped dead in my chest. I looked again and saw he had no monsters with him, at least not visibly, but I couldn't understand why he would come here without them.

Luke had been one of my closest friends in the world since we met as kids, on the run together from our mutually shitty families. We'd met first, then found Thalia and Annabeth after. Luke and I were the same age, and we'd been thick as thieves since day one, Hermes pun intended. As we'd gotten older, a small crush I'd had on Luke had grown massive, and luckily for me he'd returned my feelings. We'd been happily dating and in love ever since, until two summers ago, when he'd betrayed me and every single one of our friends and joined Kronos.

I'd barely talked to him since. We only had contact once and a while, and every time, it went the same way. I was hurt, he was apologetic but not willing to change any of his decisions. Me and the rest of Camp fought him and his monsters, and I tried not to fall apart at the loss of the love of my life.

The distraction provided by college had been a serious, serious relief.

But now, Luke was here. In the middle of space where I very intentionally avoided thinking about him, on my doorstep for whatever reason. And I had no idea what to do.

"Y/N? I know you're in there. I'm here under a flag of truce. I just want to talk."

Just like that, any desire to duck and hide crumbled. The rational part of my brain screamed at me that he could be lying, that this might just be a trap, but I ignored it. After everything we'd been through, if Luke said he wanted to talk, I wanted to hear him out.

I opened the door, and Luke's shoulders sagged with relief when he saw me. I wanted to dart forward and wrap him in a hug, something I hadn't been able to do in two years, but I held myself back. Luke shifted a little from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward, so after a second's hesitation I stepped to the side.

"Would you like to come in?"

He gave me a suspicious look, like he thought it was a trap or a trick or something. My heart shattered in my chest. How had things gone this wrong, that we stood on opposite sides of the door as basically strangers?

"My house is a mess, because I'm in the middle of packing up to move, but... if you want to talk, Luke, I feel like the hallway isn't gonna be the best place to do it."

He gave me a curt nod, not quite meeting my eyes as he walked past me into my apartment. I glanced down the hallway, taking one last look to make sure we didn't have any lingering monsters, but things were deserted. I sighed and went back into my apartment, closing the door behind me.

I found Luke hovering in the space between the kitchen and the living room, surveying things with a strange look on his face. I moved toward him carefully, not getting too close in case I spooked him.

"Do you want some tea or something? I haven't packed my electric kettle yet-"

"I think tea might take longer than the five minutes I promised."

I turned to look at Luke, raising one eyebrow in challenge, a little bit of our old rapport back. He shifted his weight around and glanced towards the door, then met my eyes again.

"Luke... is some giant monster going to burst through my door in five minutes? Or an army of small monsters, or anything under that general monster-army umbrella?"

"What? No, no, there's... no. I'm here under a flag of truce. There's nothing coming to hurt you, and when I leave... I'll leave."

"Okay then," I said, deciding not to comment on just how shaken and pale Luke looked, at least not right now. "Then I'm giving you a pass on the five minutes. And electric kettles take like two seconds anyway, seriously. They're magical."

Luke huffed, shaking his head as an incredulous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. My heart squeezed, but I made myself move towards the kitchen and act like things were normal.

"Take a seat, Luke. Or come pick your tea."

Luke took the second option, and my heart doubled its speed when I felt him hovering behind me, closer than we'd been in a long time if you didn't count combat. He leaned over my shoulder to point to the bag of black tea on my counter, and I nodded as I poured the hot water into our cups. I dropped two teabags in each of our drinks, then turned to Luke with a smile.

He stood a little more than a foot from me, and he took the cup from my hands carefully, like he didn't want this bubble of peace and normalcy to burst either. I stared into his beautiful, bright blue eyes, a smile growing on my face again despite myself. I'd missed this. A lot.

The moment lasted another few seconds, and then Luke cleared his throat and looked away. He took a tentative sip of his tea, then looked at me again, his face deadly serious.

"I don't know how to say this. I... I learned some things recently, about some plans I wasn't aware of before."

He paused and took another sip of his tea, and his hand shook a little as he brought the mug away from his lips. Shock coursed through my body as I realized Luke was scared.

"Kronos, he- he's going to use me. He's going to use me to take over the world. This summer... he's going to use me like a stepping stone, until he gets so much power he's unstoppable."

"Luke... what are you saying?"

His eyes had wandered to stare holes in the wall of my kitchen while he'd talked, but now they snapped back to me, wide and full of urgency.

"I'm saying I want to run away. I want us to run away, like the old days. Before... before he gets the chance to carry out his plan."

I stared at Luke for a few minutes, then shook my head, scoffing and pushing past him into the living room of my house. I paced a little, trying to make sense of what he'd just told me. What he'd just asked of me.

"Luke... I don't know what to say!" I finally admitted, completely honest as I turned back to him. He watched me, his expression guarded. "I don't... I don't think I can just run away. Not from the life I've managed to build, not from our friends still here and risking their lives!"

"So that's it, then?" he asked, taking a few steps forward, his tone angry. "Your answer's no?"

I huffed a laugh, staring at anything in the room except for Luke and trying to think. My brain was working a million miles an hour, but I still needed a little bit of time to think things through. But I wasn't sure I had time.

"Okay, Luke, can we sit down for a minute? Actually talk about this?" I said, taking slow steps towards him. I set my mug down on the nearest table, then reached out to gently rest my hands on his. A storm of emotions raged behind his eyes, but he didn't stop me or pull away. "This is a lot to take in all at once. Can we work through this together?"

His jaw worked like he was holding back some retort, but he let me pull him along towards the couch. Slowly, together, we sank down onto the cushions. I only pulled one hand back, and made sure our knees rested against each other, hoping it would do something to help keep Luke grounded.

"I don't want to run," I said simply, meeting his eyes. He opened his mouth, looking ready with an outburst again, but I continued before he could. "But Luke, think about it. Where are we gonna go that he doesn't find you, especially if he wants to? Monsters can sniff us out. We'd never, ever be able to live another day without looking over our shoulders."

Luke's shoulders sagged, and he shook his head miserably as he stared at the half-full mug in his hand.

"Then there's no hope."

"That's not what I said. And it's also not true." Luke scoffed, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eye. I looked right back. "If you don't want to follow through on what Kronos is asking of you, why not just come back with me? To Camp, to my somewhat normal life. I have an apartment with space for two. You could even enroll with me next semester, if you wanted to."

Luke shook his head. He pursed his lips as he raised his head to meet my eyes again.

"And let the Olympians continue exploiting us? Let them keep destroying people and lives because we don't matter to them?"

I huffed a sigh. "Look, I'm not their biggest fan either, but right now it seems like it's 'let Kronos kill you' or 'stop fighting the Olympians'."

Luke shook his head again, more energized this time, more angry. He stared at the wall ahead of us, the same hurt and bitterness I'd seen from him over the years burning in his eyes.

"It's just not right. There should be something we can do. Something that isn't Kronos, but isn't letting the Olympians win."

And just like that, a lightbulb went off in my head.

"Luke... what if there was a way we could do that?"

****************

That night, Luke and I stayed up until almost two in the morning brainstorming and working out the details of my plan. When we finally decided to get some sleep, he stayed with me, and curling up in the same tiny twin bed, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, had me more at peace and ease than I had been in a long, long time.

The next morning, we finalized a few things over breakfast. Then, there was nothing left to do but put our plan into action.

Luke stayed in the apartment, tasked with keeping his head down and finishing packing for me, since I had other places I had to be. Namely, Camp Half-Blood. A little earlier than I'd talked about with Chiron, and hopefully, before the place was crawling with campers for the summer.

Thankfully, it didn't take me too long to get to Camp. I arrived a little after lunch and found the place expectedly deserted. From the top of the hill, I could see some of the year-rounders moving around the lake. I tried to keep them from noticing me as I headed straight for the Big House.

I paused just outside the front door to steel my nerves one last time, then marched inside. I found Chiron and Mr. D sitting together, apparently deep in conference. They both looked up when they noticed me, matching looks of surprise on their faces (although Chiron's had a noticeably happier edge to it).

"Y/N! We weren't expecting you for another few weeks-"

"I'm not staying for long. Something just came up that I needed to talk to you about right away. To both of you, actually, especially Mr. D."

He raised a bored eyebrow in my direction but otherwise didn't move. Chiron motioned to a chair at the table.

"By all means, please."

"That's alright, I think I'll stand," I said. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine. I would not back down, wouldn't leave until I'd succeeded. Luke and I's future depended on it.

I took a moment to make very intentional, determined eye contact with Mr. D. His other eyebrow raised.

"I'm here to bargain for a pardon for Luke Castellan."

Silence. Both Chiron and Mr. D just stared at me for a few long moments, then turned to look at each other. Chiron looked concerned, but Mr. D burst out laughing.

"He's a traitor and an enemy of Olympus! This has all been very boring and ridiculous, and a waste of our time. Get out."

Mr. D's last word had a firey threat behind it, but I didn't flinch.

"You and the rest of the Olympians are perfectly aware what a threat Kronos presents. Everybody's getting scared, and they should be. He's got a plan for returning to his Titan form, the one he had before he was defeated the first time, before Zeus cut him apart and cast him into Tartarus. And it's a plan that he can definitely make succeed.

"Luke knows all about this plan. Obviously. And he's willing to defect and tell you all about it, so we can stop it before it happens. But you have to give him a complete pardon, sworn on the River Styx by Zeus."

Mr. D snorted again, this time raising from his chair and taking a few threatening steps towards me. I still didn't back down.

"Y/N, listen," Chiron interrupted, shuffling forward a little bit to stand partially in between me and Mr. D. "If you have information that could save Olympus and the camp-"

"Oh, I have some. Just like Chris Rodriguez had some. But Luke has all of it. And you're not getting any of it without giving him a pardon first."

"Or we could force it out of you before finding your little boyfriend and doing the same to him," said Mr. D, his tone light but his eyes blazing. Chiron started to step in again, but I spoke up before he got the chance.

"You haven't been able to find him this long, you won't be able to find him now. And anybody who knows anything about interrogations knows that torture just plain and simple doesn't work for getting information." Mr. D grunted, but we both knew I had him there. "Besides, if Luke gets his pardon, that means more than just getting all the information from Kronos' former right hand man. It also means that Kronos loses said right hand man, who's been organizing and leading a lot of the work so far."

Chiron and Mr. D shared a look, and I tried not to let it show just how much my heart was racing. For the first time since I'd walked in here, I actually felt a glimmer of hope that my plan might succeed. Chiron turned back to me, the worried look still on his face.

"Y/N... what makes you so confident that Luke wants to defect?"

"He sought me out," I answered simply, trying to dance around his location at least a bit. "He's realizing quickly just how bad Kronos would and could be, and he's scared. Terrified. He wants a way out, so when he found me, he asked me to run away with him. I suggested trying this plan first, mostly so I don't have to leave behind everyone else I love. But also because, this way, you might stand a chance against Kronos that you wouldn't have if we'd left without offering information."

The conversation continued for almost another hour, centered mostly around Mr. D making threats and, when I didn't back down, reminding me that I was trying to demand something of Zeus. He made plenty of good points, but I'd thought through all the ways this plan could go terribly, painfully wrong with Luke before I'd come here. I wasn't going to give in, for anything.

Finally, after restating my points and my argument a few times, Mr. D agreed to bring my request to Mount Olympus. I waited anxiously in the Big House with Chiron, whose brow remained deeply creased the entire time. I didn't engage, intentionally avoiding the conversation he looked like he wanted to have, but I saw him watching me out of the corner of my eye.

I started to get worried as the evening came, but finally, Mr. D reappeared. The first time he'd delivered his news, I honestly hadn't believed him. I asked him to repeat himself, which he rolled his eyes over, but the words were the same. Somehow, by some miracle, I'd managed to succeed.

Zeus was willing to give Luke his pardon in exchange for information and defecting.

I wasn't a complete idiot, so made sure the terms were clear when Mr. D brought me to Olympus to witness the oath. The words covered any retaliation, punishment, or harm that might come to Luke, and completely prevented it. Zeus spoke the words and the sky rumbled with lightning. I tried not to shake in relief or from the adrenaline dump as I bowed and promised he wouldn't regret his decision. Hermes shot me a grateful look on my way out, and I returned his nod. He'd been awful to Luke, but we were aligned in not wanting to see him dead, and I got the feeling Hermes had been helpful in pleading my case.

When we returned to the Big House, I headed for the door as quickly as possible, promising to bring Luke back with me in a week when I'd been planning to return anyway. I still had to move out and then move in to a new place again, and Luke had assured me that week of time wouldn't cost the war.

I raced back home, breaking almost every traffic law in the process, but I didn't care at all. I called out to Luke from the hallway, so he wouldn't be scared when I flung the door open, then rushed to wrap him in a giant hug. We sank to the floor together, crying in relief, and stayed like that for a long, long time.

The next week felt like a dream. Luke and I finished packing up my old apartment, then moved together into the new one, which we'd started calling 'ours'. We had to duck monsters a few times, and Luke was still in significant danger, but this time we were on the same side. As we settled into our new place on the last night before we were supposed to head back to camp, I quite literally couldn't have been happier.

It was a little strange returning to camp with Luke, but I quickly got over my own concerns when I saw how tense he was. I held his hand the whole way in, and thankfully, we'd still managed to get here before most of the summer campers. Luke and I sat shoulder to shoulder in the Big House while he told Mr. D and Chiron everything about Kronos and his operation. It took hours, and I could tell Luke struggled to get a lot of it out. But he did.

It had taken long enough that we decided to stay the night, even though I could see Luke clearly didn't want to. We stayed in the Big House, and the next morning, we finished the last of the intel-sharing before heading back home.

Chiron stopped Luke on the way out the door with a hand on his shoulder and said he was so happy to have Luke back. Luke just nodded, but I squeezed his hands as I noticed a single tear making its way down his cheek as we left.

"You know..." I said as we climbed in the car. I was driving, and Luke stared determinedly out the window. "Chiron's probably not the only one who'd be happy to have you back. There might be some apology tour type-stuff, but for the most part... I think you'd get a warm welcome home."

Luke just gave a noncommittal grunt, and I let it go. That was a bridge we could cross later.

For now, we still had one final part of our plan to put into action.

The reason Luke had joined Kronos in the first place was because he'd been neglected by his Olympic parent, especially since his mortal parent had been in such a bad place. He'd discovered the hard way that Kronos was no better alternative, but the fact remained that the gods used their mortal children at best, and at worst completely ignored them for their entire lives.

We needed to find a third option, some middle ground way to make things better. So, we decided to be the change we wanted to see.

As legal adults with a newly moved-in apartment that had a decent amount of space, we had the power to make our home a space for demigods who had nowhere else to go. If their immortal parents were neglecting them and things weren't good with their mortal parent either, they could come to us. For a little while, or to stay for good. We made our own little sanctuary, then shared it with all the kids like us who'd needed it.

Over time, the operation expanded, and we moved into a bigger apartment with more space. Thanks in part to Luke and I, Camp Half-Blood won the war, and we were able to do even more once Kronos stopped being a threat. What had started as not much more than a dream of doing good had turned into a loud, busy, happy house with people constantly coming and going.

Which is how we'd ended up in an alleyway talking to a scared teenager, after helping defeat a monster who'd been bearing down on him.

"Who takes care of you?" asked Luke, a sympathetic and understanding frown on his face as we stood a little ways from the kid. We didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but we'd gotten good at spotting the signs of a young Half-Blood in distress and helping them.

"I take care of myself," the kid spit. I tried not to glance at Luke.

"We used to do that, too," I said, moving a little closer to Luke. "We both ran away from home, survived on the streets, although I guess we really took care of each other."

"Now, we take care of people like you," Luke continued, right where I'd left off. "Do you know what you are?"

The kid hesitated, then half shook his head. He at least had some idea, then.

"You're a Half-Blood," I said. "Half mortal, half immortal Olympian god."

"...What?"

"Look, I know it's a lot to process," said Luke. "But the longer the three of us sit in this alley, the more likely it is another monster's gonna come and pick a fight."

We managed to get the kid up and moving, heading back for our apartment. On the way, we explained more about the Olympians, and told him about Camp Half-Blood.

"It's a good place to get training, and to meet other Half-Bloods like you," I said. "A place for heroes."

"It's only one option, though," Luke added. The kid nodded, looking a little overwhelmed but excited as we stopped outside our apartment door.

"And... what's the other option?"

Luke and I shared a smile, then he pushed open the door to our apartment.

Inside, we were immediately greeted with a wave of noise and excitement. We'd left Ethan Nakamura, one of the Half-Bloods Luke had met away from camp, in charge, and he'd been leading the rest of our group in basic combat lessons.

"What... what is this place?"

"A place for normal kids who need somebody to take care of them," Luke answered. "You'll still get training, since monsters will always be trying to kill you."

"But we won't ever ask anything of you, other than to do your own damn dishes," I said. "No dangerous quests, no tribute to the gods. Just our own little makeshift family going through life together."

Luke put his arm around me, pulling me into his side and kissing my temple as Ethan noticed our newcomer and waved him over to join in the fun. Luke and I stayed where we were, watching the bubble of happiness we'd made together with smiles on our faces. We'd gone through hell and back to get here, but as far as I was concerned, every moment of pain had been worth it for Luke and I's happy ending.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Percy Jackson Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[wildbluesorbit]

Wounded IIS || JTK

…a continuation of London

18+mndi

paring: Jake!reader(f)

LONDON MASTERLIST

A/N: I hadn’t noticed until later that the last 2k words of Wounded II cut off. It isn’t much but it’s plot so without further ado, here’s the last scene. Please let me know what you think !!

Content Warnings || mentions of a toxic relationship & night terrors, pillow talk, previously said boner lol

Word Count || 2k

– YOU –

His warmth cores against your back and bakes through the rest of your limbs. You readjust to try and let some of the cool night air ventilate between your warming bodies, but Jake only moves with you, tucking you further into him.

“Jake,” you whisper to no one conscious.

He doesn’t budge. You wait for panic to pour into the room. But it never does. The need to squirm away from Jake’s touch never forces itself on you. Instead, you linger, daring to defy your limits.

You melt back into his embrace and keep the tempo of his rhythmic breathing, huffing against the shell of your ear.

In the past year, Jake has thoroughly sunk under your skin, and it finally resonates this whole time you had been missing your best friend.

You turn your head to view the moonlight pouring in through the window, catching Jake’s cheek and nose and relaxed pout. You swear he’s never looked this serene. You almost want to unpack and settle your life here; to pin the moonbeam in its place to see Jake at such a still in the light’s beauty all the time.

That is until he grinds his hips against your backside, revealing his hard-on pressing into your flesh. Again to your surprise, you find yourself pressing into the sensation. For this small second, you allow yourself to enjoy laying with him, especially because you aren’t ready for anything further.

“Jake,” you place your hand over his and squeeze.

He slightly stirs until you whisper his name again. Taking advantage of his new privilege, he cranes his head down to featherly press a pucker against your shoulder, angling his hips to where you aren’t being prodded any longer.

His sleep-coated voice rasps against your skin, “Are you okay? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

You whisper to ease him out of his freshly awoken state, “Why are you back so soon? You aren’t supposed to know I sleep in here.”

“I’ve known since the first time you were home alone,” you feel his sleepy smirk stretch across your skin as he revisits a memory you do not share, “I always find your socks on the floor.”

His answer catches you off guard, “Oh, well thank you for not making me feel bad about it. I thought I was stealthier than that.”

“I thought it was cute,” he yawns, muffled by your shoulder blade.

You slowly pave the subject towards your burning questions, “Did everything go alright on your trip?”

“Yes, we just finished ahead of schedule and I wanted to come home and see you,” he hums against you and squeezes you a bit tighter.

His sweetness suddenly makes you red and ugly with shame, “I’m sorry you came home to that. It must have been unsettling.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he sleepily scolds, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you’re not some scary monster that’s going to shoo me away. You’re dealing with a lot, I get it, but you’re not a lot.”

“Okay,” you don’t say anything further on the subject at the risk of tears.

He then asks just like he always does, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” you dodge and swerve into your inquiries, “Want to talk about your outburst the other night?”

“Not really,” he returns your tone but gives in, “but I suppose we must. I am so so, really, very, terribly sorry. And this is not an excuse, just an explanation. I was very drunk. I didn’t mean a word I said, I was just lashing out.”

“I was never mad at you,” you admit, “just hurt.”

“You have every right to be, I should never have said those things,” you can hear guilt clawing at his every word.

Yet, you can’t help but wonder where the root of his words stemmed, “Are you mad at me, Jake? You know- about all those things you said?”

“No, no, angel,” he is quick to weed that notion from your mind, “I could never be mad at you. I was mad at someone else and I was not in my right mind and you took the brunt of it, I’m so sorry.”

“Josh told me what happened at the bar that night- what that girl said to you,” you feel him physically cringe around you as you confess your knowledge.

“Josh- I swear if his mouth was any bigger he’d be-,” Jake grunts next to your ear.

“No, I’m glad Josh told me,” you come to his twin’s rescue, “he put some things in perspective for me.”

“Well, as much as the sound of my brother ‘putting things in perspective’ for you terrifies me, I didn’t want to tell you and you feel like it was your fault,” Jake counters.

Rightfully so, as you had immediately assigned the blame to yourself.

“Jake do I-,” you hesitate, not sure how to ask without upsetting him, “Does it embarrass you when you show up without- Do I embarrass you?”

“Please, don’t ever feel like you embarrass me,” you swear Jake’s frown and creased brown are audible as he sternly shoots down the theory, “Quite the opposite. I just miss you is all. I miss feeling you by my side. I miss leaning over to tell you stupid thoughts that cross my mind. I miss having you out with everyone and seeing you enjoy yourself and play along with everyone’s antics. I miss looking down in the pit at my shows and seeing you with your hands in the air. I miss you dancing without giving a shit as to what anyone else thinks. I just hate seeing you confined to this house.”

Your first instinct is to be offended but you know he is right. And you don’t want to ever discourage him from being honest with you, especially about what is rattling around in his head.

“And I’m not trying to pressure you because I will be here whenever you are ready,” his voice becomes a small soft thing that urges you to cradle it, “I know we never talk about it but I always think about us.”

“You shouldn’t be waiting for me,” you quip, pricked by guilt at the amount of affection his words harbor for you.

“You speak as if I can look in any other direction, angel,” he muses and laughs through his nose, “The very thought of you sparks electricity.”

“Jake-,” you can’t help but fuss, “you don’t get it. I don’t know when or even if I'll ever be ready. Time is a precious thing. Don’t waste yours on me.”

His fingers absent-mindedly begin to fidget with the hem of your shirt as Jake carefully strings together the articulation of his next thought, “I don't claim to know or even understand what you're going through, I just want to help in any way I can to get you through it. Because you will get through it, that’s why nothing I do for you could ever be a waste. But I need you to completely forget the other night because I promise I am not going to hurt you.”

His last words ring in your ears. You know you are guarded but you hadn’t even registered that’s exactly what you had been doing to him. Brick by brick, you were slowly succeeding to somewhere cold and isolated, trapping yourself in the exact opposite of where you needed to be. You are certain the issue does not lie within a question of trust, Jake is probably the only person you do trust. Yet for a reason that has no name, it's still not enough to let him all the way in.

“Alright, Jake, you know I trust you,” trying not to lead him on, “but I have seen the way your hands twitch in your sleep now. I just don’t think I’m any good to you- to anyone. Not right now. Not like this.”

He runs his fingers up and down your arm,

“Like what?”

Josh’s words come crashing wildly through your head once again. Jake’s faith in you is set in stone. It isn’t a matter of if for him but when you’ll come around. You want more than anything to be by Jake’s side again. After the way Jake has cared for you, all you want is to deliver his faith into his reality.

The only real thing you find yourself coming back to is Jake. He is the only thing you never find yourself fighting to care about in a world losing its color. He is never a chore or a burden. And in such a confusing season, he is the only thing that has constantly held value in your realm.

If trying to overcome for only yourself is not working, maybe you could try facing your fear for a friend. All you ever want to see is Jake happy, and to be the reason for the smile on his face would only help you heal.

“Jake,” you whisper his name, not even sure if you can even form the next words on your breath but already too far into your thought to turn back, “the next time you go out- maybe- I want- I might- I’m going too.”

You can hear him straining to tame his sudden spring of serotonin at the thought, “Are you sure, angel? You have nothing to prove to me.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, Jake,” you proclaim in overconfidence, “I'm more than sure.”

“Well, I’d be more than ecstatic to have you join me,” he fits the crease of his hand into the dip of your waist and squeezes, “but remember, no rush, no pressure.”

“Unless it's a flat party,” you quickly blurt out the stipulation, “I’ve had enough flat parties for a lifetime.”

“Completely understandable,” he nuzzles back into you and yawns, indicating his next wave of dormancy, “I think we’re going bowling later this week. We can abuse our power to rent a few lanes. Should be quiet and secluded. Can’t wait to see you there.”

You can’t help but wonder if you’re making a mistake. This time you presented a seemingly confident front. What if this time you diminish his hope in you? That is if he hadn’t already seen right through your facade.

“Sleep now-,” Jake yawns out fragments, already slurring into slumbering, “I’ll keep you safe.”

You shoo away the swarm of “what ifs” long enough to fall back under a drowsy spell once more as Jake instructed.

pretty please tell me what you think of this little nugget

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Family Name

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader (reader was in the Army and SWAT in Central City)

Summary: After ten years away, you return to Gotham. When you discover you know the true identity of the Joker, you join Batman's fight to save Gotham.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vague references to several DC Comics movies and timelines, murder (I can't get too specific about the murder warning without spoiling a plot point, but there is a friendly fire aspect and an assassination by a sniper)

Word Count: 6.6k+ words

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bruce Wayne (or at least posting it lol) so he may be OOC. I actually wrote most of this a year ago and just put the finishing touches on it, so I'm not sure if it's worth reading. Feel free to let me know what you think and send any Bruce Wayne requests you have so I can keep practicing for him! (If you want a specific characterization/actor let me know.)

The map that I used as a reference while writing is included at the end!

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

Gotham is still cold, wet, and smelly. Some things never change, no matter how hard a certain vigilante tries. It’s been nearly ten years since you last set foot in Gotham, and things have changed. For better or worse? Who can tell?

It is raining as you walk out of the train station on the outer border of Gotham City. You shiver and pull your jacket closer to your body as the cold drizzle starkly contrasts the sunny Central City you came from. You hail a cab and tell the driver the address of your temporary apartment. The news station on the radio catches your attention, and the driver turns it up when you ask.

“After a fearsome showdown last night with the Joker, who is still missing from Arkham Asylum, the Batman has been spotted in downtown Gotham. The GCPD is on high alert following several tips of illegal business at the Iceberg Lounge,” they report.

“You new in town?” the driver asks.

“Not exactly. I haven’t been here in years though,” you explain.

“Then you’re new. This is a whole new Gotham. Just stay on the good side of the Batman and you’ll be fine, kid. This is you.”

After paying the driver and pulling your bags from the trunk, you stand on the sidewalk and look up at the place you now call home. The apartment building is old but in decent condition. Especially considering where it is. As the rain grows heavier, you move inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor and entering your apartment. The unit came furnished, so you only have some clothing to unpack. You start a list of the housewares and cleaning supplies you’ll need to buy. Walking around the living room, you notice the cable is hooked up and turn on the television. The local television channels are either out because of the rain or playing broadcasts of last night’s story. Any background noise will do, you suppose, as you leave a news channel on and begin unpacking and cleaning with what little bit of supplies you have.

After cleaning, you take a break and fall back onto the couch. The news is still on, and a face flashes across the scene, filling you with an odd sense of recognition. You lean forward to get a better view before exclaiming, “No way.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“When did you come back?” someone asks as you enter a small department store.

Looking up, you smile when you see a familiar face. “Barbara, hey! Last night. Been in Central City for too long.”

“Should have stayed there,” she says, laughing humorlessly. “Gotham is quite literally the most crime ridden city in the world now. It’s on the sign and everything. At least in Central you have a vigilante to protect you.”

“So does Gotham,” you point out. “He’s all over the news.”

“Yeah, we do. But for every criminal he puts in Arkham, ten more pop up.”

“Is your dad still a cop?”

“He’s the commissioner now. Actually…” She pulls a card out of her wallet and hands it to you. “Call him if you ever get in trouble. Be careful, okay? This isn’t the Gotham you remember.”

“I will. Thanks.”

You watch her leave before you begin shopping for the items on your list. After shopping, you are back in your apartment, cleaning and organizing. The Gotham News has more showtime than Hannah Montana in the 2000s. You find yourself invested in every story they present. Maybe this isn’t the Gotham you remember, but it is still Gotham and your home. If this city needs help, you'll offer everything you have.

“Citizens of Gotham, I am Police Commissioner James Gordon. Regarding the recent red alert at Arkham Asylum, the GCPD is urging residents to stay indoors, lock doors and windows, and most importantly, stay calm. We are not sure at this time how many, if any, patients escaped the asylum. Anyone with information is encouraged to contact crime stoppers at 800-”

You mute the television and look at your closet. An armour-plated uniform hangs front and centre, practically begging you to put it on and fight for your home. If Barbara doesn’t think Batman can handle all the criminals, maybe he would appreciate a little help.

“Don’t be stupid,” you chastise yourself, still looking at the closet. A few minutes later, you find yourself standing in front of the closet, thinking, “But you have the training.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Gotham looks much darker from a rooftop. You find a lookout spot a few blocks from Arkham, assuming anyone who escaped will have to pass you eventually.

“Oh, sweet Gotham! Riddle me this!” a high-pitched voice calls. A moment later, you see a man dressed in a green suit entering the alley below you.

“Now or never,” you whisper as you move toward the edge.

“The more of it there is, the less of all you see. What is it?” Riddler asks.

“Darkness,” you answer as you grab his shoulders.

You pull him backwards and knock him to the ground. His breath rushes out at the impact, and you bring your elbow down to his face, rendering him unconscious before he can catch his breath. The burner phone you bought earlier is programmed with James Gordon’s number in it.

“Gordon,” he answers.

“Riddler is unconscious in the alley at Tomlinson and Pygall,” you say lowly, hoping your voice is disguised enough, before hanging up.

Your attention is ripped away from the unconscious criminal as a silhouette of a bat floats across the sky.

“There’s hope yet, Gotham,” you say, smiling.

✯✯✯✯✯

It seems as though you are better at vigilantism than you expected. Everywhere you go, Batman is either already there or crosses your path. He has yet to see you, that much is sure. Lurking on a dark rooftop, you hear the telltale sign of his grappling hook and are a second too late in realizing he is moving onto the same roof as you.

“So, you’re the one who’s been stealing half my jobs?” he asks, walking toward you.

“You seem busy, thought you might like some help,” you respond, shrugging as you change your voice again.

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the thought. But you need to go home. This is dangerous and you could get hurt.”

You internally roll your eyes at his obvious arguments. “So could you.”

“Doesn’t matter if I get hurt.”

“Me neither. Any idea how many more of them are out there?”

Batman sighs and turns away from you to look over the city. “One or two,” he answers. “The city got lucky; Joker was in solitary and didn’t get out.”

You nod to yourself, moving toward the edge as you ask, “Why does it seem so easy to escape Arkham?”

“Poor security, not enough staff, an old building. The list is endless. Every time someone tries to strengthen it, a stronger foe comes along and breaks it again.”

You’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Yet nothing’s changed.”

A sound behind you stops your answer. Turning toward the sound, you launch yourself onto the fire escape, ignoring Batman’s pleas to stop. 

“Whoa,” you breathe, looking at the plants growing in the alley. 

“You’re not the Bat,” Poison Ivy, whose news special aired last night, says. “You’d look much better in green than him.”

“Every plant I’ve ever owned has died. It’s one of my talents,” you taunt before throwing a canister from your belt. 

“It won’t work, Buttercup. I’ve been tear gassed many times.”

“It’s not just tear gas,” you call as the plants begin to wither. “It’s concentrated sulfur dioxide. Deadly to plants and debilitating to people.”

She coughs several times before falling. An arm wraps around your waist, and you are hoisted through the air before landing on a rooftop. 

“What was that?!” Batman demands.

“Sulfur dioxide.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it! You can’t just run around taunting criminals in a mask. What if that hadn’t worked and she had hurt you?”

“She didn’t. Besides-“

“No! You don’t get to justify this.” He keeps talking, and you feel like you have heard him before. You watch him closely as he continues berating you. 

“This is not a game. Do you understand that?” Bingo. You smile at him, his chest heaving as he prepares to yell at you again.

“You’re still really protective,” you say lightly. 

Batman turns toward you quickly, shaking his head before asking, “What?”

“In middle school you wouldn’t let me jump from the top of the swing set. Just funny that you’re still so protective when you risk your life every single night.”

“What are you talking about?”

You move toward the edge of the building and look over your shoulder at him. 

“Goodnight, Bruce.”

Batman runs to the edge after you jump, but the alley is empty. 

“Alfred,” he calls into his earpiece. 

“You’ll figure it out, sir. Eventually.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home?” Batman asks as he walks up behind you. 

“No. You told me I couldn’t run around taunting criminals in a mask. Which, by the way, I have some questions about. Can I walk and taunt criminals in a mask or is it the taunting that’s the problem?” you tease, looking up at him from your crouched position. 

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. “I’ll give you a pass for the other night, but you need to go home. Right now. I’m not letting you get hurt for this.”

“Then don’t. Watch my back and I’ll watch yours.” You extend your hand for a handshake as you stand. 

“No deal. Go home.”

“I’m not going home. So, stay with me and we can help each other or I’m going to go hunt him down on my own.”

He narrows his eyes at you before sighing and shaking your hand. 

“Why are you smiling?” he asks as he releases your hand. 

“We always were a pretty good team.”

You see the moment of recognition as his jaw drops under the cowl. He recovers quickly and points at you. 

“Ground rules. Number one: you don’t engage. Two: stay hidden. Three: run if things go south.”

“Got it. Be boring,” you relay. 

“This is not the time for jokes. Our lives are on the line. You don’t even have a good reason to be here.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Please enlighten me,” Batman prods impatiently. 

You can tell he is mad you were here and are not listening to him. Too bad, Bats, you think. Gotham is your home, too, and you aren’t going to let it fall into the hands of some crazy clown or any other criminal. 

“But before you tell me that, tell me what makes you qualified to be out here.”

“Look at me. Armoured uniform, tear gas, I’m a CCPD jacket short of official.”

“You’re CCPD?”

“I was. SWAT officer for five years after I got out of the Army. But I grew up here and I’m not letting this city go without a fight.”

“Why this fight? The one criminal we haven’t been able to stop for almost a decade?”

“Because...” You look up at him and smile. “I know who he is.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Thank you, Batman,” Commissioner Gordon says, shaking Batman’s hand. “We’ll get him in solitary.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Batman replies. 

“Who’s your new helper? Everyone at the station is talking about the reaper that popped up and knows how to take them all down.”

“An old friend. Try to keep them in a while longer this time, will you?”

Commissioner Gordon turns around to see Batman is gone. “We’ll try,” he mumbles into the dark. 

✯✯✯✯✯

The next night, Batman is gone. You don’t so much as see his shadow all night. There is only one criminal out; maybe they’re all on vacation, too. Killer Croc used Arkham’s sewer system to escape and pop up downtown. It was a long and tiresome fight, but you got him on the ground, and the GCPD took it from there. You finally reach the rooftop, preparing to cross them to go home, but don't make it far. Hitting the roof, you feel pain shoot through your ribs. After running your hand across the area, your skin is stained red. Great, you think. 

“What were you thinking?!” Batman reprimands you as he appears and kneels beside you, pulling items from his utility belt. 

“Mostly about what I was going to eat for dinner,” you joke, hissing when the antiseptic hits your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” Batman says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy. At least it wasn’t my neck this time.”

“I told you not to use your belt to traverse the jungle gym,” Batman mumbles. 

“So, you do remember me,” you say happily.

“You’re still an idiot with a death wish.”

“And you’re still Mother Hen Bruce.”

“This’ll help for now,” he says, helping you stand up and hooking his arm under your shoulders. “But I’m taking you back to the cave to get you checked out.”

“Didn’t do enough checking out in high school?” you slur before passing out.

“Alfred, we’re inbound,” he says into his microphone. 

“Glad to see blood loss doesn’t dampen her sarcasm,” Alfred responds, “I’ll be ready.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What did you mean you know who he is?” Bruce asks. 

You blink several times to make sure you aren’t imagining him. He looks different than the last time you saw him. Without the mask, he’s more like the Bruce you grew up with, just older and barely holding Gotham together.

“You got hot,” you say without thinking. 

“Thanks. Now tell me what you meant.”

“That I know who he is?” you clarify, standing up. 

“Please stay down,” Alfred chides as he returns with tea. 

“Thanks, Alfred. Good to see you again.” You smile as you accept the tea. 

“You as well. Now take it easy. You should be battle ready in a day or two but that’s only if you rest properly.”

“No, you will not be battle ready. There is no more battle for you,” Bruce adds. 

“You know I’m not going to listen and if you tell me no I’ll just do it myself.”

“We’ll have this conversation later. For now, tell me what you know about Joker.”

“Okay. He’s my uncle. Like twice removed, or-“

“There’s no way you’re related to that monster,” Bruce interjects. 

“I’m not, really. We’re related by marriage. His aunt or somebody else married my cousin and I happened to meet him a few times. Fate, I guess.”

“Do you know his name?” 

“No. Everyone in the family called him J. I thought his name started with a J but see now that it’s because he’s cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head before turning serious again. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m great. Thanks for the assist.”

“I’m glad you’re back. Even if you are endangering yourself and ignoring everything I say.”

“Me too.”

“But Alfred’s right. You need some rest. We can finish this conversation later.”

“I can go home,” you say, standing up.

You stumble slightly, and Bruce catches you, holding you upright against him. 

“Can you?” he asks, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“I think I found something,” you cheer when Bruce answers the phone. 

“Where are you?”

“My apartment. It’s by Sacred Heart.”

The line goes silent, so you say Bruce’s name. 

“You’re living by the Narrows? I thought you just went out there to fight.”

“It’s a fine building. I’m not in the Narrows.”

“No but you’re between Crime Alley and Arkham Island. You need to find a new place. Now.”

“I can’t afford anything else, Bruce. It was this or Slaughter Swamp.”

“Pack your essentials. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He hangs up, leaving you with a dozen questions. However, you know he means what he says, so you pack the stuff you can’t live without and are ready to go when he shows up twenty minutes later. 

“You’re staying at Wayne Manor until we find you a new place.”

“That is not necessary.”

“It’s not just that this is close to the Narrows. We’re going after Joker, and I need to know you’re safe.”

“We’re not going after Joker,” you correct, “we’re finishing this.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce, I can’t find a marriage certificate. They may not have been married; maybe they were just living together or something and didn’t want to explain it to a kid,” you admit, disappointed in your lack of findings. 

“It’s okay. We will find something. And if we don’t, we can do it another way,” he assures. 

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is the fourth Arkham breakout in as many weeks. When do you sleep?” you ask. 

Alfred laughs faintly through the communications system. 

“During Wayne Enterprises meetings, usually,” Bruce answers. 

“I got one. Going dark,” you alert before jumping to meet Captain Boomerang. 

After a short fight which results in your earpiece breaking, Captain Boomerang is unconscious, and you prepare to call Gordon. 

“Ha ha ha ha,” an eerie voice cackles behind you. 

You freeze in place before turning slowly and coming face-to-face with the Joker. He knocks your helmet off in one swift move, and your face is now visible. 

“I remember you. My aunt married your second cousin. Horrible family you have. Or should I say had? Ha ha ha ha.”

“What do you want?”

“Is a family reunion not enough? No, I guess you’re right. I mean, marriages end so are we even related anymore?”

“We never were.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Reaper! You know everyone calls you that, don’t ya? Personally, I think it’s a bit morbid but to each their own. I also heard from a little bird that you’re working with the big, bad bat. I had such great hopes for you, and you let me down.”

“What do you want?” you repeat slowly. 

“To be family again,” he answers, smiling as he runs his fingers over your face and hair. 

“What about Harley? Isn’t she your family? You were all she could talk about the other night.”

“Not anymore. She settled for some used piece on her Suicide Suckers. But me and you? Me and you could be the dream team. The family to end all families.”

“I don’t want to be part of your family.”

“When I found out Harley was a harlot, you know what I said? I said I’d peel off her skin and put it on a new body. But I can’t imagine those words coming from her. So, from now on…” he moves his hand to rest in front of your throat as his smile drops. “If Harley wouldn’t say it, you don’t say it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred, where is she?” Bruce asks.

“Toxic Acres. She’s still not responding,” Alfred responds, watching your tracker blink in the same place for the fifth consecutive minute.

“I’m going after her,” Bruce declares.

“Be careful, Master Bruce.” Bruce doesn’t respond, and Alfred mutes the private connection as he watches Bruce’s tracker move toward yours. “And don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re making a mistake, J,” you hiss, the pressure of Joker’s hand on your throat making it hard, but not impossible, to breathe.

“No, they made a mistake,” he argues, moving his hand slightly as he steps back to look at you.

“Who?”

“Your family. All families. Everyone who treats people like outsiders.”

“You mean to tell me you’re doing this - all of this - because you never felt like you belonged in a family?”

“No!” Joker yells, leaning his weight against your throat as he smiles in your face. “Because no family has ever accepted me. I know I don’t belong, but everyone expects families to lie, right? Especially their own, but no, poor Joker always got told the truth! ‘You’re too strange,’ ‘You’re dangerous,’ ‘The kids are scared of you,’ yet no one ever offered to help me fit in.”

You raise your hands to his arm and claw at his skin, growing desperate for air as he rants. He looks over when your hits grow weaker and pulls his hand back. You fall to the ground, wheezing, as you try to take deep breaths. 

Holding your neck, you look up at him and ask, “Then what do you want?”

He kneels in front of you and holds a knife out in his hand. “I want you to find a family and make a Joker-sized hole for me to fill.”

Shaking your head, you argue, “I’m not like you. I won’t do that, J.”

He cocks his head as his smile falls. “Harley wouldn’t say that, would she? And, besides, you’re more like me than you think, aren’t you? And what’s more interesting is that I think you know it. We’re the same, you and I, whether you like it or not.” The knife is raised to your throat as he threatens, “Do it, or I will make another hole in your family.”

“Another?” you ask.

The blade presses against your skin, and you close your eyes, unwilling to give him the theatrics and attention he so desperately seeks. A grappling hook sounds somewhere above you just before the blade is removed from your throat. Joker’s words echo in your head, and your eyes stay closed. Someone gently touches your neck and your face, but you don’t open your eyes, in case it’s him trying to trick you. He does that; you remember that too well.

An arm loops around your waist as a hand pulls your arms over broad shoulders. Only when you’re flying through the air and clinging to him are you ready to admit that Bruce is saving you. Opening your eyes, you see Wayne Tower in the distance. You tighten your arms around Bruce’s neck, and his hand squeezes your waist in response. He lands on the roof of Wayne Manor and rushes into the Batcave.

“What did he do to you?” Bruce asks as he sets you on a medical exam table. The same table you sat on when he saved you after the fight with Killer Croc.

Bruce tries to step back, but you cling to him. He’s the only family you have left, and Joker opened an old wound with his talk of carving a hole in a family to fill himself. That’s what he tried to do with your family, but when he still didn’t fit, he kept carving.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper into Bruce’s suit.

Bruce’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the edge of the table as he cups your head to his shoulder.

“I’m right here,” he soothes. “Not going anywhere.”

He holds you for longer than you realize; time slows down in Bruce’s arms. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands and looks at you intently.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not right now,” you whisper.

“That’s okay,” he promises, nodding.

“The guest bedroom has been prepared and dinner is awaiting you, Master Bruce,” Alfred calls, briefly appearing in the doorway of the Batcave.

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” you ask.

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready. And you’re staying here tonight.”

You don’t argue, nodding as you stand and follow Bruce upstairs. He shows you to a guest room with clothes, toiletries, and more books than you can count. Telling you to use whatever you want; he leaves to change before meeting you for dinner.

When you enter the bathroom to change into the clothes you found in the closet, you see yourself in the mirror. Mostly, you see the red line running across your neck. Joker has hurt more than enough people, you decide, and you meant what you told Bruce; you plan to finish this.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce sits up suddenly. The sun is coming through the cracks in his curtains, but something feels off. He pulls a shirt over his head and walks down the hall, knocking on the door to the guest room where you’re staying. After a moment of no answer, he lets himself in. There’s a note on the bed in your handwriting.

I can’t let him do it again, especially not to you. Please stay home tonight and let me finish this fight. I should have done it ten years ago, but I was scared and ran. This is my chance to make everything right. Please forgive me.

Bruce takes a deep breath, suppressing his urge to punch a hole in the wall. Alfred wouldn’t appreciate another one. He rereads the note, then goes downstairs for breakfast like everything is fine.

“Where is our guest?” Alfred asks when Bruce enters the dining room. “Resting, I hope.”

“She’s gone. She left in the middle of the night to, quote, finish a fight like she should have done ten years ago.”

Alfred’s eyes widen as he stops moving trays onto the table. “You’re going after her, then?”

“No, Alfred, I am not.”

Bruce picks up the paper, as nonchalant as ever, and more convincing than when he turns on his Brucie Wayne charm.

“Why ever not, sir?”

“She asked me not to. And after her reaction to me last night, I’m inclined to listen to her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Bruce drops the paper and looks at Alfred. “I am going to do exactly what she said.” When the paper covers his face again, he adds, “For a while.”

“Good man,” Alfred mutters, returning to serving breakfast.

✯✯✯✯✯

Realistically, you know that breaking into Arkham and executing a patient isn’t the best idea, but it would solve the problem. However, there’s the downside of life in prison for first-degree murder that you’d have to contend with. Bruce would surely visit you, but you don’t want to lose him before you get him back.

Perched on a rooftop, you watch Arkham and hope your trap is being laid as planned. The security lights blink on seconds before the alarm sounds. If Arkham Asylum is good for anything, it’s the consistency of frequent breakouts. No matter who breaks out tonight, you’re prepared. All you have to do is convince them to lay a trap for Joker, convincing him that you killed someone, and then you can pounce. Watching the alley below you, you furrow your brows as you lean forward.

“Catwoman?” you ask incredulously.

She looks up, tilting her head at the sight of you. “Reaper?” she asks, sounding far too excited.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Thieving, I presume?” She nods, and you lower yourself onto a fire escape before jumping to meet her. “There’s nothing here worth stealing.”

“Maybe.”

You clench your hands into fists and look down the alley.

“I think the better question is what are you doing here, Reaper? I’m not exactly in your demographic.”

Under your mask, you press your lips together and consider confiding in her. She cares about Batman as far as you can tell, so if you tell her Joker is planning to kill him (though, in reality, Bruce is his likely target), she may be willing to help.

“Batman dump you? He does that,” Catwoman hums.

“What? No, no, we’re not together like that.”

“Yet,” Catwoman interjects.

“Look, Joker is going to try to kill someone that I love. He’s already ruined my family forever.”

“You just moved here, who could you possibly love here? I thought I fell fast.”

“I grew up here, and-“

Your mind races as you remember that you haven’t been seen with Bruce since returning, but Joker has been out since then. Pulling the earpiece from your pocket, you hope someone is in the Batcave.

“Hello?” you ask into it, desperate and terrified for your family. “Take whatever you want,” you tell Catwoman when you don’t get an answer, “heck, take something for me too. But if you see Batman, tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Sure.” You move toward the end of the alley before Catwoman asks, “What should we call you?”

Smiling, you answer, “Reaper is growing on me.”

“Good luck, Reaper.”

You could have taken a grappling hook before you left Wayne Manor last night, but you were more concerned with Bruce’s safety than yours. Getting off of Arkham Island and into Gotham Heights will take too long on foot.

“Batman?” you ask, trying the comm again. “Anybody?”

“You called?”

You slide to a stop, nearly falling over, when you see Batman perched on a roof, looming like a gargoyle. He spreads his cape as he moves to the road before you. Looking down at you, though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s trying to ensure you’re safe and unharmed.

“He’s going after Barbara. I thought he meant you, but he was out when I saw Barbara.”

“I’ll call Gordon. We need to get to Gotham Heights.”

“We’ll never make it in time. The alarm sounded twenty minutes ago.”

Bruce’s head turns toward you as he presses a button on his utility belt. The Batmobile turns a corner, coming to a stop beside you. Your eyes widen as the top opens, jumping in the passenger seat as you look at everything in awe.

“Barbara is stronger, and knows more than you think, but she can’t hold him off forever.”

You nod, prepared to do whatever you have to do. Even if it means making Bruce hate you.

“And I forgive you. Whatever you do, I understand,” Bruce says quietly. “Just- just remember that your actions affect more people than just you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s a trap. The driveway beside Barbara’s place is decorated like the cookout where you met Joker.

“Go check on Babs, I’m right behind you,” you tell Batman.

He hesitates, noticing exactly where your focus is, before tapping your shoulder and running toward Barbara’s door. When Batman is out of sight, Joker’s laugh surrounds you.

“Did you do it?” Joker asks, stepping out of the shadows.

“No.”

“Whyever not?” he asks with a laugh.

“Because I’m not a killer. We are not the same.”

“Come over here,” he demands. You listen despite your body’s urging to leave. “And give me a real reason,” he adds when you stop across a picnic table from him.

“That is the real answer. I will not do to another family what you did to mine. I’m not a killer.”

“Now, now, now, that’s not true.”

His eyes are fixed on your mask, likely imagining your furrowed brows and scared eyes. “Is the mask necessary, Reaper? We know one another. It’s just family here.”

You swallow as you rip the mask off, levelling your gaze on Joker, determined not to show him how affected he is.

“If you hurt her, I will end you.”

Joker flaps a dismissive hand. “She’s fine. I just needed a reason to celebrate, but you didn’t keep your end of the bargain.”

“I’m not-“

“A killer, yes, so you say. However, there’s a family out there that begs to differ.”

You lick your lips, unsure how he knows this. The record was redacted and eventually destroyed, so no one outside of your team at the time should know.

Joker’s laugh draws your attention back to him. “You are a killer. Just like me.”

Shaking your head, you flinch when Joker slaps his hands onto the table, leaning forward to get closer to you. 

“Joseph,” Joker whispers, smiling widely at your surprised movement.

Someone screams in the distance, and you remember your promise: to protect your home, no matter the cost. Unholstering the gun you hadn’t carried in years, you hold it to Joker’s forehead.

“Do it,” he begs, leaning against the barrel. “Show them how alike we are.”

Your arm shakes as you fight to do it. With a finger on the trigger, Joker should be gone already, but you can’t do it.

Lowering the gun, you sigh, preparing for Joker’s next idea or a surprise dose of his laughing toxin. He watches you until he reaches for something. Before you can lunge forward to stop him, a shot rings out in the Gotham night. You hear it as Joker jerks to the side, slumping to the ground. Turning toward the right, you search the skyline for the shooter. You see a familiar salute and laugh to yourself as the silhouette disappears.

 “Reaper!” Batman yells, rushing toward you. He slows as he sees you standing over Joker.

There’s a note, half blown apart. He took credit. You laugh again, oblivious to Batman’s concerned gaze on the back of your head. The laughter quickly turns to hiccups as you fight to remain composed. You walked out of Wayne Manor prepared to assassinate Joker. Now that you have essentially been an accomplice to his death and reminded of your worst mistake, you’re falling apart.

Bruce whispers your name, a hand on your arm as he turns you away. He raises a hand to your jaw as the first tear rolls down your cheek.

“I killed him,” you admit.

“No, you didn’t. That shot was too far away, no one will blame you.”

“I killed Joseph,” you repeat. “I didn’t see him, and there was so much fog and- I shouldn’t have taken the shot.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I left the Army and joined SWAT because I killed a civilian. I don’t know how Joker knew, but he was right. I am a killer.”

“Hey, hey.” When you don’t respond, Batman summons the Batmobile, whispering to Gordon on the phone as he helps you into the passenger seat.

Once you’re in Wayne Manor, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Bruce’s shirts, he pulls you into his arms.

“You’re not like Joker, and you’re not a killer. Friendly fire is a terrible thing, but it’s not your fault. You can’t keep blaming yourself for that. Saving people has its costs, and if I could take the guilt from you, I would.”

“I don’t even know how it happened,” you confess, “I dream about it all the time, but I don’t remember actually pulling the trigger.”

“You may never know. But either way, you can forgive yourself and move on.”

Wiping under your eyes, you lean against Bruce’s chest as you ask, “What did Gordon say? How’s Babs?””

“Their ballistics team is examining the velocity and angle to find where the shot came from. Barbara didn’t even know anything was happening, she’s fine.”

“The roof of Verdant in The Narrows,” you whisper, laying an open hand over Bruce’s heart.

“That’s too far for a shot like that.”

“Not for Army snipers.”

“Friend of yours?”

“Used to be,” you shrug before adding, “Lawton started killing for money, and I couldn’t support that.”

“Wait,” Bruce interjects, pushing you back slightly, ducking to look into your eyes. “You’re telling me that Deadshot just killed Joker? For free?”

“He doesn’t do anything for free,” you answer, smiling. “But I didn’t pay him if that’s what you think. Besides, he left a calling card of sorts.”

“Not at all. Batman will call Gordon tomorrow and let him know.”

“What’s Batman doing tonight?”

“He’s on vacation,” Bruce sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. “And Bruce Wayne is catching up with an old friend.”

Smiling, you turn sideways to press your chest against Bruce, laying your arms over his shoulders.

“I think that sounds like a great night.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“I found something,” Bruce says, removing his cowl as you enter the Batcave.

“A life?” you joke.

“Ha. No, I had a friend of mine go searching for that destroyed Army record.”

“Why?” you ask quietly, wringing your fingers together.

“Because you didn’t kill Joseph. Your gun never went off, and the shot came from a different direction with a much higher velocity. This looked like sniper.”

“You think it was Lawton?”

“Wouldn’t be surprising.” Bruce tilts your head toward him and looks you in the eye to add, “But the important thing is that you have no reason to keep carrying that burden.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come on patrol with me.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“You won’t. Not with me around.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Bats.”

“Catwoman,” Batman answers.

“Reaper was looking for you a few nights ago.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other. Thanks, though.”

“She said you weren’t together like we were, but I find that very hard to believe.”

“Give them back,” you say, surprising both Catwoman and Batman.

“Give what back?” she parrots.

You hold your hand out. “The pearl necklace and earrings you stole. They’re not worth anything to the woman, but they’re sentimental.”

Catwoman huffs, pulling a small bag from her pouch and tossing it to you. “I chose them for you anyway.”

“What?”

“You said to steal something for you too.”

“I thought my best friend was about to get murdered, I didn’t mean it!”

“And did you mean what you said about not being with Bats here?” She places a hand on her hip, and you take the opportunity to look at Batman before answering.

“He’s just not my type,” you answer, shrugging one shoulder.

You see his jaw twitch before he nods his farewell to Catwoman.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whisper as you walk past him. “And we’ve got a crocodile to catch.”

Batman sighs. “Welcome to Gotham.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Whose are they?” Bruce asks as you examine the pearl jewellery.

“Mine,” you answer, not looking at him. “What are the chances she’d use my permission to thieve to rob me?”

“Not bad with Sel- Catwoman.”

“Selina Kyle, yeah, I know.”

“Sentimental, huh?”

You turn toward Bruce, passing him the necklace.

“I told your mom that I liked her pearls, like five months before she was killed, and the next day she surprised me. She picked me up from school and told me we were going shopping. They’re the cheapest ones the store had, but I’ve loved them ever since because they came from someone I loved and… I guess they made me feel a bit more like her, and she was amazing.”

When you look back at Bruce, he’s still holding the necklace, but his gaze is on you. He sets the necklace down, stepping toward you. Gripping your waist, he pulls you against him with a wide smile.

“You’re amazing too.”

“Not like her.”

“There’s no one quite like her. But she loved you too, more than you know. Actually, she thought we were going to get married,” Bruce adds, nudging his nose against yours.

“I did too,” you whisper.

Bruce kisses you quickly, pulling back to gauge your reaction.

“Based on the newspapers, I thought you’d be better than that,” you tease.

Bruce clicks his tongue before pulling you into another kiss. While he takes your breath, he fills you with love and hope. His hands keep you as close as possible, one sliding up to hold your head as he deepens the kiss, whispering something against your lips.

“Wait,” you mumble, moving your hands from his jaw to his chest. “What did you say?”

Bruce smirks, the charm that no one gets to see any more on display. “That I love you.”

Your eyes widen, and you grip his shoulders as you rise to kiss him, informing him that you feel the same. “I love you more,” you say against his lips, melting into him as you become one.

“My mom would want you to have her pearls,” Bruce whispers, rubbing his thumb in large sweeping motions against your upper hip. “And she’d want us to see where this goes.”

“Your mom was very smart,” you muse, putty in Bruce’s hands as he moves to the couch, tugging you into his lap.

“Did you love my mom enough to take her last name eventually?”

“This is more important – I love you enough.”

“Finally!” Alfred exclaims as he walks in with a tray of tea and biscuits. “It is about time you officially join the family and take the name.”

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Raving

Omega Part 1 | Omega Part 2 | Shape Shifted | Ice Pick | Abomination | Venomous | Frenemy | Restraint | Party Guessed |

Prompt: Joining forces with Derek was difficult to say the least. Not only because he wanted to do things differently but it also meant you had to spend more time with Isaac.

a/n: heyyyy everybody! another chapter is here! super grateful for all the love you guys have been giving me seriously, thank you guys so much! ALSO YALL I DIDNT REALIZE I WAS SPELLING MR. HARRIS AS MR. HARRISON UNTIL JUST NOW. WHY DIDNT YALL TELL ME!?!? i went back and changed them so we should be good now lol

______________________________________

"Oh, what the hell is this?"

You and Stiles were sitting at the station with food for Sheriff, who was very unhappy with what he had been given. "Veggie burger," sang Stiles as he rearranged the contents around the table. He handed you yours before setting his salad in front of him.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger," complained Sheriff his mouth still full.

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy," Stiles argued. You nodded along as you rustled your fork through your own salad to mix the contents around equally. Sheriff sighed but went back to unpacking his food, when he uncovered the basket of carrots and celery his face took on the look of disappointment once more, "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

You gave the older man a pointed look, "That's very dramatic, don't you think? We just do this because we care." You weren't lying, Melissa may have been the one that took you in permanently but the Sheriff had always been like a father to you just as Melissa had been like a mother.

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please? And tell us what you found."

Sheriff disagreed, "No! I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers." That didn't stop you two from looking behind the man and at the wall. You pointed to it as Stiles called attention to the board, "Is that it on the board behind you?" He turned to look at it, "Don't look at that." Stiles continued to not listen, his eyes glued onto the wall.

"Avert your eyes. Hey!"

"I see arrows pointing at pictures," Stiles said move about in his chair.

He finally gave up when he realized that you two were not going to listen. "Okay, okay, stop! Fine. I found something." Both you and Stiles brought your attentions to him, instantly satisfied with his words.

"Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three," you and Stiles asked.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident. Two's coincidence-."

"Three's a pattern," Stiles finished for his father.

"The mechanic, the husband, and the wife- all the same age. All twenty-four."

Your eyebrows scrunched together, "Then what about Mr. Lahey?" Stiles looked over at you and agreed, "Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near twenty-four."

Sheriff had stuck his finger out, stopping your questions, "Which made me think either 'A,' Lahey's murder wasn't connected or 'B,' the ages were a coincidence, until I found this," he rolled his chair backwards a little and turned. Grabbing the file and handing it you, you opened it so both of you could expect the contents.

"Which would be 'C.' Did you know that Isaac Lahey has an older brother named Camden?" Even though the question was in general, meant for both of you, Sheriff did make the most eye contact with you. You shook your head, going back to reading the words.

"'Died in combat,'" whispered Stiles.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"Twenty-four," you said.

Eating was apparently going to have to wait, since both men stood up and began to go over the board. "Man, I really just wanted to eat," you whined begrudgingly getting out of your chair. Your complainants were completely ignored as they started to plot.

"Now what if same age means same class- I mean did you think of that?" Sheriff brushed off his son's question with a slight wave, "Yeah, yeah." There was a brief moment of dead air until Sheriff confessed he hadn't thought of it.

"Well I would've. I mean- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago." Even though the statement made sense to you, Stiles didn't accept that.

"TWO HOURS? Dad, people could be dying!"

"Yeah, I'm aware of that, thank you."

You placed a hand on Stiles' shoulders to make your presence known, "He can only keep looking at this stuff for so long, Stiles. Sometimes you need to step back to refresh your eyes."

Both guys settled down at your words, before turning towards the photos, "Same class," murmured Stiles. You all shared a look, "Do you have any old yearbooks, Sheriff," you asked.

Like on cue, they scrambled to get any old yearbooks and school files they could get their hands on. To be honest, your glad they didn't need your help on that because truth be told, you really were hungry. You only got a moment to stuff your face with food because they came rushing back soon after slamming all contents on the desk.

Stiles had found the file he was looking for, "Okay this is it, class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including, Isaac's brother," stated Sheriff.

"Meaning they could've, theoretically, known each other," you said finishing your carrot before standing up once more.

"Two of them were married- so maybe they all just hung out."

Sheriff shook his head lightly, "Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've-." You saw the man's face fall into a look of recognition. Stiles had caught it too, "What?"

"Same teacher." Mr. Harris' picture was on the page, clear as day.

"All four. Now I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. Alright, get me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces."

"Which ones," you asked as Sheriff went to make a phone call. "Everyone in that chemistry class," he answered, "If the killer's not done killing..."

"One of them is next," Stiles said.

"Yeah."

~

Later that night, you had promised to meet Scott at the clinic to relay everything you just found out. He wanted you there though because Derek was planning to show up and he figured a three versus one when it came to opinions would work better in his favor.

"So, you weren't able to get tickets," you asked currently perched on the half wall in the lobby. The boy confirmed your question, "Nope, but we need to find some because Jackson seemed very hell bent on getting them."

You nodded slowly, "Meaning whoever is controlling him, desperately wants to be there." Scott agreed and then his head perked up, looking at the clinic door. You figured it was because he heard Derek so you felt no need to stand up from your position.

Scott walked over, unlocking the door letting Derek in, "What's he doing here," you heard him asked.

You looked up and felt your breath get caught in your throat, you weren't expecting Isaac to come. Guess it was only fair since Derek wasn't informed of your presence either. "I need him," the Alpha said bluntly.

"I don't trust him," Scott shot back. Mean while all you could do was stare and the Beta made eye contact with you for just a second.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either," you would be lying if you were to say that his voice didn't make your heart flutter. Once he finished his sentence he walked passed both the other werewolves standing close to where you were sitting on the wall.

"You know what and Derek really doesn't care."

You raised your hands as you blurted out, "Oh my god, one more person talks in third person and (Y/N) might just punch you all in your throats." You heard Isaac snort out a quiet laugh as he turned his head to look at you. His eyes gleamed like stars when they met yours.

Derek had interrupted your little moment, "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?" You scoffed at the Alpha, "What great patience you have there, grumpy." You hopped off the wall and crossed the little group to stand next to Scott, just in time for Deaton to come out of the back room.

"That depends, your friend Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?"

"Save him," you and Scott synced.

"Kill him," Derek had said at the same time.

You and Scott both whipped around looking at the dark haired werewolf in disbelief, "Save him," Scott argued once more before looking at you. Your eyes both met and stared at each other for a moment, like a form of silent communication. You nodded at him once more before both of you turned back to Deaton and synced again, "Save him."

Deaton had a small smile on his face and nodded, gesturing for you all to follow him. Derek had silently walked passed definitely grumpy of being out numbered. Scott followed a second later, leaving you and Isaac alone for just a moment.

You turned to him quickly whispering, "Derek made you come?" He nodded in response, "And now I'm glad he did because I get to see my favorite girl." He stood next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder, keeping you from walking towards the back room door. You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes, "You're never gonna stop with the nicknames, are you?"

You moved passed him, his arm falling back to his side and you spoke once more, your voice still lowered, "Fine but we still need to talk everything through. After this is all over." He nodded with a smile on his face following behind you and into the room with the others. He took his place in between the other two werewolves and you stood next to Deaton and helped him lay everything out. The sound of Derek's voice made you look up.

"Watch what you touch," he said with Isaac's arm in his hand. Deaton had picked up a jar reading it then showing you the label and pointing to the ingredient in the book laid out in front of you. He had become some what like a teacher to you, every chance you got you were here, learning, reading, practicing and he would guide you. Seems like he thought now was still a good time to show you some things.

Isaac had leaned down resting his arms on the table and now at eye level with you. He smirked when he saw your attention on him before asking his question to Deaton, "So, what are you, some kind of witch?"

"No, I'm a veterinarian."

Deaton's reply made you shake your head in amusement. You saw Isaac process the answer with his lips taking an "oh" shape silently, before he looked at you again. It felt like every chance he got, his eyes were stuck on you.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin. Except for when (Y/N) is able to learn healing abilities, but even then, that could take time we don't have and it would really only be effective after the fact." Your head shot up, your body still leaned over from reading the pages. You glanced at everyone in the room before meeting Deaton's eyes.

"Wait, I can do that?" Deaton chuckled at your astonishment and nodded, "Well that's news to me," you said looking at your best friend.

"We're open to suggestions," Derek continued to conversation. "What about an effective offense," asked Isaac.

"Unlikely," you scoffed as Derek began speaking again, "We already tried, I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

You mumbled lightly, "I'm really glad I haven't had to fight this thing." The boys looked at you, a certain Alpha showing a very obvious annoyance, "What? I'm sorry, okay. Stiles isn't here to voice my thoughts like he always seems to, I can't help it."

Deaton looked at all of you, "Has it shown any weaknesses?"

Derek answered his question, "Well one- it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No," Scott interjected as you shook your head, your posture now straight and your arms crossed. You continued for the Omega, "He's the captain of the swim team." Deaton nodded along at both inputs, "Essentially, you're trying to catch two people."

He turned grabbing something from a drawer, he show you an amulet, "A puppet... and a puppeteer." He set it on the table and continued, "One killed the husband but the other had to take care of the wife, do we know why?"

Scott piped up gaining everyone's attention, "I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murder. I think he couldn't let the same happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules?" Isaac's eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the table. When his eyes blinked and his attention was no longer stuck, he continued, "The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too."

He looked at Scott and when he did, you felt your body jolt. It was the weirdest sensation and you didn't understand why it happened. It wasn't a normal reaction so your only guess could've been it was something supernatural. You checked to see if anyone noticed and when you confirmed no one did, you made a mental note to ask Deaton about it later.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer," Scott questioned.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was." His eyes were back in your direction only his focus was on the wall behind you; you were okay with that though, you didn't want him to see the frown you had.

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Deaton's hand was held out as he hypothesized, "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him." You nodded along adding to his words, "Like they're not only bonded as in partners but mentally." Deaton pointed to you grabbing a small jar.

"What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master." He circled the sand like substance around the amulet on the table, "Meaning what," Isaac asked.

"Meaning we can catch them," Scott started.

"Both of them," you finished.

~

The next morning consisted of both you and Scott telling Stiles everything on the way to school. "There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott hopped out of Roscoe as he finished his question, helping you out as well. Stiles met you both on the sidewalk, "It's a secret show, there's only one way, and it's a secret." You adjusted your bag onto your shoulders, "Real helpful, Stiles," you joked.

"Hey!"

All three of you turned to find Matt, "You guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it, nobody got hurt," Stiles tried to convince him. Matt gave him a confused look, "I-I had a concussion." You turned your head and laid it into Scott's shoulder, hiding your small laugh threatening to come out.

"Okay well no one got seriously hurt."

"I was in the E.R. for six hours."

"Okay, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles had proven his point even more by leaning over and placing his hand just inches from the concrete. Your cover of your amusement was taken from you when Scott moved forward to ask if Matt was alright.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, now. So, you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." He gave Scott a friendly fist to the shoulder before walking away.

"I don't like him," You and Stiles both said, once he was far enough.

"Hey, are you sure about this," he asked Scott. "Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job," Scott said.

You chimed in, "So, what do you think he's going to do this time?"

Stiles sighed, "Be there to make sure it happens," He shook his head before both boys turned, taking their places beside you as you walked in the school.

~

"Can anybody tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?"

Coach was right, practice was already over and there was no sign of Jackson. Everyone shook their heads and Stiles leaned over so you and Scott could hear him better, "I thought I told you to keep an eye on him."

"STILINSKI!" You three straighten and looked at Coach, "Jackson!" Stiles shrugged, "Sorry, Coach I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him."

"Oh, and when was that?"

"The last time I saw him was definitely the time I saw him last."

"Again, Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay," Coach was leaned over in Danny's eyesight. The boy nodded, "Sure, Coach." Coach started to back up into his office, "That goes for all of you. I should be coaching college." He started to close his door but just before he did, he looked at you, "(Y/N), I'm going to need to see you later for game plans."

You nodded, "You got it." He finally closed his door, which allowed the boys to go back to talking to Danny. "Sorry, but I only got two myself," Danny said.

"What- do you even have a date, yet?" Your head snapped to Stiles, your arm shooting out to smack him in the stomach, "Really?"

Danny's tone changed, "I'm working on it."

"Okay, okay, hear me out. You give us the tickets, and you devote your life to abstinence and just-." Before Stiles could finished both him and Scott were pulled away and you felt someone right behind you, "How do you two losers even survive?" It was Isaac, you looked behind you to see him looking between the two boys, his hands still gripping their shirts.

You scoffed and pointed to yourself, "That would be thanks to me, actually." Isaac looked at you and smirked, acknowledging your answer. Scott huffed, "What are we supposed to do? No one's even selling." He gestured to the whole locker room, where all the boys stood around, probably waiting for you to leave so they could begin changing.

Isaac's eyes were focused somewhere in the distance, you felts hands lightly place themselves on your waist guiding you closer to Scott. The tall werewolf patted Stiles on the chest, moving passed him, "Wait here, boys."

All of you gave each other looks of confusion, Scott asking, "What is he-?" But he never got to finish, thanks to the crash caused by Isaac. You guys flinched at the loudness, "Ow," you commented.

"Yup, that's excessive," Stiles added on, the sounds only getting louder as Isaac continued his actions. "That'll bruise."

"Ow," Scott repeated your first comment.

"Wow, okay." Isaac walked back over, tickets in hand, he handed you each one before turning around his hand in his pocket, "Enjoy the show."

You guys were in shock until you broke it with your words, "That was... so hot." Both boys looked at you, wide-eyed, when you saw them you just shrugged, "What? He's on our side now, I can say that."

Stiles pointed at you, "I thought you were mad at him?" Scott nodded in agreement.

You rocked your head from side to side, "I was and still kind of am, but that doesn't mean I can't find that," you circled your hand motioning to the boy walking away, "Extremely attractive." Scott and Stiles both scoffed, the spastic both pushing you slightly, "Get out of here, you dummy, let us change."

You laughed and walked out the room, only making it a few steps out the door before you heard your name once more. You turned to see the boy you were just talking about leaning against the wall, "I heard you." You smiled as cluelessly as you could and walked closer until you were inches from his figure, "Heard what, exactly?"

His arm came around your waist again, this time turning you so your back was pressed up against the wall and his body was trapping you. "You find me attractive, huh?" His eyes were on you, glancing at your lips before reaching your eyes once more, "Always did," you answered. You leaned a little closer missing his lips and bringing yours close to his ear and whispered, "See, isn't it so much more fun when you're on our side?"

You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was laying itself on your waist, removing it gently and sliding out of his grip, "I'll see you tonight, Isaac."

~

"Ketamine?"

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage."

Deaton set down the syringe and bottle, "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him enough to buy you some time." He turned picking up a jar with that same sand from the other night, "This is some of what you will use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you." He placed it down and Stiles picked it up his eyebrow raised, "Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure. Can we maybe find a less pressure-filled task for me?"

"It's from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." He gestured to the walls, "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott or (Y/N) to cause me any trouble."

We turned back to Stiles to see him still confused, "Okay, so then what? I just spread this around the whole building and then neither Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped," Deaton confirmed.

"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott reassured.

"Not all there is," Deaton said. You sighed and slumped your posture, "There's always something."

"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it." He pointed to Stiles, "You have to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that."

Scott looked at Stiles worried and then you to which you rolled your eyes. Deaton gave a silent chuckle, "Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

Stiles mumbled, "Force of will." You grabbed his hand, "You got this, no sweat."

"If this is going to work Stiles, you have to believe it."

~

The night had finally arrived, your nerves were definitely getting to you. It also didn't help that the car ride over seemed really awkward. Stiles was oddly quiet and you could tell that Scott noticed as well.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

You and Scott shrugged lightly and you spoke, "You didn't say anything the whole way here." Stiles grabbed the bag out of the Jeep and looked at you both, "No, I'm fine. Let's grab the other bag."

Scott looked at Stiles, "We can't, remember Deaton said you have to do this alone."

"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck."

You smiled, "There's our Stiles."

"No, not here, not now."

You turned to see Scott running off, panicked you looked at Stiles who was just as bewildered as you. "What," Stiles said.

"Scott!" You called as Stiles continued on, "What am I supposed to- plan officially sucks!" He looked at you and you just shrugged. "I'm going to go look for Isaac and Erica, you got this Stiles." He waved his hands at you in frustration, "Yeah, whatever, go make out with your boyfriend." You gasped, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Yet."

You pointed behind him, "Go play with your sand." He huffed a laugh and you turned to make your way into the building. The music could already be heard from inside but still it was quite a shock on how loud it actually was. The lights were blinding, you squinted to try and find the two Betas but to no avail they were no where to be seen in the sea of people.

Deciding that staying on the outskirts was your best course of action, you began to make your way to the side where a line of pillars were. You leaned on one of them as you scanned the area again, looking for any signs of any werewolves.

"You planning on dancing tonight?"

You jumped at the sound of Isaac's voice right in your ear. You turned and you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights considering the boy only started laughing when he saw your face. You punched his shoulder and he faked a wince, "Don't do that! Where's Erica?"

He nudged his head in the direction of the crowd behind you, "In there, thought I would come look for you while she looked for Jackson."

"Me?"

"You and Scott."

You scoffed, "You said me." He smiled making the motion to press his forehead against yours, "Okay, it was mainly for you." You laughed and moved your head away, leaning back on the pillar, "My, you're quite the flirt these days." He shrugged leaning against the pillar with you, one hand in his pocket. He looked down and crossed your pinky with his.

"You're not as mad at me as you have been, it's a little easier now."

You chuckled and nodded, "True, true."

You saw Scott come around the corner, you let go of Isaac and that caused him to look where you were looking. You dashed towards the Omega and hugged him quickly, "Where did you go?"

"Allison's here."

You looked at him, "That means her dad is here." He nodded and started making his way to Isaac, who was still leaning against the pillar watching you guys. Scott handed him the syringe, "Why me," Isaac asked. They were standing side by side while you stood just slightly off from them.

"Because I got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan. Okay, look, you gotta do it intravenously, which means in the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. The neck is probably gonna be the easiest, so you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on this trigger right here. Be careful."

Scott had given him a whole lecture on the plan, Isaac chuckled, "Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him." Scott shook his head, "No, I mean you. I don't want you to get hurt." Isaac's head shot to the side in surprise. There was this moment of silence between them and that's when you felt it... another jolt. This time it was stronger.

What was going on? Why has it happened twice now?

Your thoughts were broken when hands grabbed your shoulders. You blinked and refocused on Scott, "And you be careful too, okay? Stay out of the way." You scoffed, "Okay, Mom."

"(Y/N), I'm serious."

You laughed and pushed him away, "Yes, I know, I'll be careful. Now go growl at middle aged men." He smiled at you before running off. You and Isaac were left alone once again. He seemed to still be in shock at the conversation he just had.

"I told you so."

"What?"

"I told you, we care about you guys." He turned to see your smirk wearing face. He snickered, "You always have to be right, don't you." You gave a bright smile and a quick nod, "Yep," you grabbed his hand, "Seriously, be careful."

He used the grip you already had on his hand to bring you closer, his forehead back to resting on yours, "I will but it would be nice to have some incentive." You let your eyes lock with his, "Okay, you get out of this alive and I'll forgive you completely." His face practically lit up and he tried to hide it but you saw the bright expression just before he went back to his usual resting smirk.

"Now that's what I like to hear," his head shifted upwards and you felt his lips on your forehead. He pressed them there ever so gently before letting them leave your skin. "I'll see you soon, beautiful," he made the move of leaving first but was stopped by you grabbing the front of his shirt.

"You do anything too sexual with Erica and I'll kill you, Lahey, understand?"

He smirked, "Yes, ma'am."

~

You went to find Stiles after you had set up the area you guys were planning to keep Jackson. You guys had caught each other at the front entrance and you were now making your way towards the room, listening to Stiles excitement on how he had done his task.

You two had made it to the door and when you opened it you had startled the two Beta wolves. "Uh, no, no, no, just us. It's just us. Don't freak," Stiles rambled. You let out a breath of relief when you saw Isaac was alright and it looked like Isaac had done the same when he saw you.

"Is he okay," your best friend asked.

Isaac walked over to Jackson, raising his claw up, "Well... let's find out." When he went to swipe at Jackson his hand was caught as the lizard boy started to crush his hand. Isaac let out a groan of pain and he pulled back as hard as he could. He backed up to guys and you instantly grabbed his arm, "Are you okay?" Even when he was still grunting in pain, he nodded.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay," Stiles pointed to everyone and he received unanimous nods. Isaac groaned one more time, "I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're gonna get, so let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight."

Almost as if on cue, Jackson's eyes opened. You erratically began tapping Stiles and Isaac, "Guys, guys. Something's happening." Everyone watched Jackson as he started to speak, "I'm here." His voiced echoed and you could hear not just Jackson but someone else. It had to be the person controlling him.

"I'm right here with you."

You and Stiles looked at each other and slowly stepped towards the boy in the chair. "(Y/N), come back here." You ignored Isaac's words and crouched next to Stiles.

"Jackson, is that you," you asked quietly.

"Us. We're all here."

Stiles was taken aback by the answer, glancing over his shoulder at the werewolves behind you. "Are you the one killing people," Stiles questioned.

"We're the ones killing murderers."

His voice was full of venom and it was nearly as paralyzing as his actual toxin. It made you shiver out of fear. "So all the people you've killed so far-."

"Deserved it." He cut off Stiles violently.

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied."

You looked at Stiles again and took over the questioning, "Alright, so the people you're killing are all murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Well, who'd they murder?"

"Me." His reply to your question truly stunned you, "They murdered me." Jackson's eyes rolled into his slitted ones and his head turned straight, "They murdered me." You and Stiles got up and started to back your way to the other two. Isaac had a small grip on your hip, keeping you close. You started to see Jackson's hands move, breaking free from its previous stillness.

"Alright," Stiles panicked, "Ketamine, the man needs more ketamine."

Isaac picked up the bottle, "We don't have anymore." Your best friend whipped around, "You used the whole bottle?" You saw Erica tap Stiles and you all looked to see Jackson standing, he hissed and his head began to shake violently.

"Okay, out, everybody out," you pushed Erica and Stiles forward. They needed no help from you though, all four of you rushed out of the room, bumping into each other until you closed the door. Everyone pressed their back on it and Stiles gave out instruction, "Okay, (Y/N), make a barrier hurry." It was too late, Jackson had busted through the wall and had made a break for it.

You guys all ran for the front door as everyone began leaving, you and Stiles made it outside and he crossed the line meeting Derek who was jogging over.

"Hey so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-," Stiles' attention was on you and the two Betas who had also just walked out. You three were right on the line, they looked at you for reassurance and you raised your hand coming in contact with an invisible wall, it glowed a blueish color as you put more pressure on it.

"Oh, my god! It's working! Oh this is- yes! I did something!"

You heard a roar, it was so guttural. You felt the heat in your eyes, this time it was intense, if you weren't used to it by now it might have actually bugged you.

Scott

"Scott?" Derek had voiced your thought, he looked at you, he saw your eyes glow and he heard it too. The roar of a dying Scott.

"What," Stiles turned to Derek.

"Break it."

"What? No way!"

"Scott's dying!"

"What? How do you know that?"

"Oh, my god, Stiles! I just know! Break it!" Stiles broke the line and Derek took off. You could feel your feet moving before you could even think as you started to try and run too. You were stopped, however, by Isaac grabbing you, both arms wrapped around you.

"NO! LET GO! ISAAC! LET GO! SCOTT HE- HE'S HURT! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!" It was almost manic how much you thrashed to try and get out of the boy's hold. He held on tighter, "(Y/N), no, okay you can't, you can't fight yet. Derek will save him, okay, Derek will save him."

Your eyes were pouring tears at this point, "No, no, Scott he needs help, he needs me," you whimpered as you fell to the ground, Isaac coming with you but his arms never leaving their position around you.

His lips pressed against your hair and he just continued to comfort you, "I know, baby, I know. But he's gonna be okay. Derek's gonna save him. You have to stay here, okay, baby?"

You nodded still crying now holding onto Isaac like your life depended on it, muttering the same thing over and over again, "Scott he's- he's dying. He's dying- he's-."

"It's okay, baby, it's gonna be okay."

___________________________________

a/n: I finally gave you guys more isaac and y/n, aren't you guys happy with me? lol anyways hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think!

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[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part seven

another chapter with our favorite love birds!!! this chapter is a bit more of a filler... just a glimpse into what their lives look like now and tbh I love it. they deserve all the fluff (and meddling children lol) as always lmk what you think!

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part seven

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 2.8k

warnings: language, drinking, allusions to smut, brief mentions of injuries !!! 

“You’re stealing my roommate,” Rooster grumbled as he carried another box inside and you giggled as you whipped up another pitcher of margaritas for the boys, watching not-so-subtly as they all went back and forth from the moving truck. You were thankful for the heat today, come the end of the evening you would be curling up in bed with your boyfriend that you lived with, and getting to watch all the pilots with their shirts off and muscles flexing was just the cherry on top. “The audacity to steal my roommate and not even help with the boxes.”

“Stop whining, Roo, you’re ruining the atmosphere,” you shot back, handing him a fresh glass as he stopped to take a break. “You’re welcome for the refreshments.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said and you chuckled at his sour mood. 

“Stop looking at everyone else,” Jake teased, sneaking up behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and you craned your neck up to place a kiss on his jaw.

“I only have eyes for one pilot,” you said, smiling when he pressed his lips to the top of your head. “Okay, but I’m only looking, not touching.” you added with a mischievous giggle and he turned you around to press your head into his chest, shielding your eyes as Coyote walked through the door. 

“Are you going to get mad at me if I suggest leaving all the boxes in the living room tonight?” he asked and you looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Why would we do that?”

“Well… I was thinking we should kick all of these fools out, finish the margaritas and christen the house?” 

“Jake,” you whined, there was nothing more you wanted to do. “We promised them dinner in exchange for their free labor,” you said with a sigh.

“I think we could negotiate down to covering their tabs at the bar next time,” he replied and you raised your eyebrows.

“I think dinner would be cheaper,” you chuckled and he groaned as he rested his head atop yours.

“You’re killing me in these shorts,” he said, hands coming to rest on the tops of your thighs and you pulled your head back to kiss him. You all but sighed against him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he trailed his tongue across your bottom lip and your skin felt hot as he tightened his grip.

“Oh come on,” Fanboy groaned, dropping a box in the kitchen rather dramatically, “there are kids present,” he said and you pulled apart to shoot him a questioning glance.

“What kids?” you asked and he gestured to Bob, who was leaning against the fridge and sipping his margarita, pretending to be very interested in your collection of cookbooks. 

“You can make it through dinner,” you said, giving him another quick kiss and ignoring the groan he let out, “I believe in you.” You busied yourself with sorting out the boxes, dropping them in their respective rooms to make unpacking a little bit easier, whenever the two of you got around to it and you couldn’t help but feel overjoyed. You were currently moving Jake into your house… a house you had inadvertently bought for the two of you despite not knowing where you stood at the time and it felt so good. You pulled your buzzing phone from your back pocket and smiled as you answered, your phone screen filling with Mary’s face.

“Hey Mary,” you greeted, chuckling at her excited expression.

“How’s move-in day going?” she asked as you walked down the hallway and into the living room, flipping the camera to show your usually-pristine home filled with boxes.

“See for yourself,” you said and she laughed, but was cut short when Rooster stepped into frame.

“Oh, Bradley!” she called and he stopped in his tracks, looking around to see where the voice had come from before settling on you and feeling rather sheepish as he crossed his arms over his chest and walked over to stand beside you.

“Hi Mrs. Seresin, how are you?” he asked as you stifled your laughter. Mary had a particular soft spot for Rooster, and you thanked your lucky stars her medical issues were limited to her brain and not her heart at his sudden half-naked appearance. 

“I’m good, dear, are they being good hosts? You look thirsty, Jupiter, get that boy a glass of water,” she said and you laughed.

“Mary, he’s drinking me out of house and home right now, he’s doing just fine,” you replied and she shook her head, giving you that famous Mary look that had you passing the phone to Rooster as you went to pour him a glass of water. As you went to hand it to him you indignantly took several gulps of it before passing it off, like a petulant child, and you ignored Mary scolding you… saying something along the lines of I saw that. 

“You two are like siblings, I swear,” she said through her own laughter and Jake looked at you questioningly as he walked through the front door.

“Mom?” he asked, crossing the room and snatching the phone from Rooster’s hands. “What are you doing talking to Chicken?”

“Jacob Seresin, you be nice to your friends. I wanted to check in and see how the move was going?” 

“It’s good, Ma, we’re just about wrapping up now,” he answered. 

“Did you get that package I sent? I had it sent to your old-” you couldn’t catch the end of her sentence, Jake’s eyes had widened and before you knew it he was scurrying off and locking himself in the bedroom as you chuckled.

“What was that about?” Rooster asked, finishing off the water and silently asking you for a refill, to which you obliged with an eye roll as you walked into the kitchen.

“He thinks I’m stupid,” you answered and he raised his eyebrows in confusion. “I’d be willing to bet money Mary sent Grandma’s ring in the mail,” you said.

“Ring? Like an engagement ring?”

You nodded, “it’s not really an engagement ring… it was this beautiful art deco piece she always wore, Grandpa had gotten it for her birthday one year. If there was one thing Grammy Seresin didn’t play about it was her jewels,” you chuckled. “I just adored it, they always joked Jake would put it on my finger one day. She actually willed it to me, along with some other pieces I quite honestly don’t feel comfortable owning, but Mary’s been holding onto it all for me.” you explained.

“You think he’s really going to pop the question so soon?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink and you shrugged.

“No idea, I mean our relationship exists in a time vacuum so I wouldn’t be surprised but… if anything that’s Mary getting overexcited and sending it of her own volition,” you laughed. “She was hinting about a wedding in the hospital and ever since we got back together her and my mom have been relentless.”

“I love weddings,” Bob chimed in as he took a seat at the countertop and wiped a hand across his forehead. “Never been a groomsman before, do you think Jake’s going to want the stereotypical bachelor party?” he asked and Coyote nodded as he joined.

“Definitely, I’d say prepare for a Hangover-level bachelor party,” he joked.

“Damn, I’ve gotta get a new suit,” Fanboy mumbled and Payback looked at him questioningly as he trickled in.

“Why are we getting suits?” he asked.

“Jake and Jupiter are getting married,” Rooster answered and you looked at all of them incredulously before picking up a dish towel and using it to hit their shoulders.

“Out, all of you,” you ordered as they looked at you in shock.

“But we haven’t had dinner!” Coyote protested and you kept whipping the towel against their skin as you herded them out.

“I don’t care, get out,” you said, ditching the towel and opting to use your hands as you now pushed them out the door. “Thank you for your help, have a great night.” you said, slamming the door in their face and you turned around to see Jake looking at you confused.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked and you quickly crossed the distance between you, jumping and wrapping your legs around him as he caught you with ease.

“Your idea grew on me,” you said through a smirk and you giggled as he all but ran through the house to drop you on your bed. 

“I could really get used to this,” you sighed, drawing absentminded patterns across Jake’s bare chest as your breathing regulated. You were acutely aware of the sheen of sweat currently sticking both of your bodies together but you couldn’t find it in you to care… not when you were so wrapped in perfect bliss. 

“Well, you better sweetheart, because I’m not going anywhere,” he said and you smiled as you let your eyes flutter closed.

“Wouldn’t let you even if you tried,” you responded and he chuckled beneath you. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now.”

“Oh god, what a shame,” he groaned dramatically and you swatted him playfully. 

“So… since we make all of our big decisions after sex…” you started, propping yourself up on his chest to look up at him, “I had an idea.”

“And what idea might that be?” he asked, more than content to indulge your whims as he carded a hand through your hair.

“What do you think about getting a pet?” you proposed and you watched as his eyes lit up.

“Are you serious? Yes! What are you thinking, dog or cat?”

“Definitely dog, would be a shame to just let that yard go to waste, wouldn’t it?”

“I love this,” he said, running a hand along your back and you smiled up at him. “Planning for our future, this is just… perfect,” he said and you nodded, placing a kiss on his chest. It was almost as if the universe had decided this moment was too perfect, too blissful, too serene as your pager went off on the bedside table and you groaned.

“I’m not even on call,” you grumbled, picking it up to see 911 flashing across the top. You tossed it aside, “I’m not on call.” you repeated, laying your head back to Jake’s chest but it just beeped again and you felt him move to grab it.

“It says 912, what does that mean?” he asked and you sat up as you grabbed it, wanting to see for yourself.

“Means it’s more urgent than 911…” you grabbed your phone, dialing the extension attached to the page and rubbed a hand over your forehead as one of the interns picked up. “Do you want to tell me why you’re paging me when I’m not on call?” you asked, clearly annoyed and Jake chuckled as he stood and slipped his shorts back on. 

“I’m sorry, Dr. J, I wouldn’t have paged unless it was urgent… there’s uh- well, a trauma just came in and it’s-” 

“Will you spit it out?” 

“It’s your friends,” he said, and you shot out of bed and rushed to your closet, sandwiching the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you grabbed a pair of scrubs and started gesturing at Jake.

“You wanna give me some information or just leave me hanging, Rogers?”

“Yes, sorry, seems like there was some kind of accident on the beach, there’s a lot of… arguing, I don’t really know what happened but they mentioned they knew you so I said I would page,” he explained and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m on my way,” you sighed, hanging up and tossing your phone on the bed as you finished pulling your scrubs on and throwing your hair in a ponytail. “It’s our idiot friends, all they said was some kind of accident on the beach.”

“Accident on the beach?” Jake asked, stepping into the closet and slipping his shoes on as you grabbed your keys and shrugged, already moving down the hallway towards the front door.

“Your guess is as good as mine, didn’t sound quite as urgent as a 912, though.” you said as you climbed into the car and began the short drive to the hospital. “What the hell happened to you?” you asked as you ran through the emergency department to see Rooster, Fanboy and Coyote all in beds while Bob, Phoenix and Payback stood off to the side, looking rather disappointed.

“Dogfight football gone wrong,” Rooster winced as an intern was stitching above his eyebrow and looked over to see Fanboy in the same boat. 

“Get up, that’s going to scar,” you said as you pulled some gloves on and Rooster’s eyes widened. 

“Scar? Jupiter-” he started but you gave him a look that shut him up. 

“Do you see me taking over?” you asked and he nodded, “exactly, calm down.” you said with a chuckle as you gently pulled out the sutures to start over. “So you had the baby doctor’s page me for what, two cuts and a sprained ankle?” you asked as you looked over to see Coyote with an ice pack secured to his foot.

“Fanboy got scared when they pulled the needles out,” Phoenix laughed and he scoffed.

“I did not get scared.”

“Then why has no one started on your stitches?” you asked, lifting your eyes from Rooster long enough to give him a questioning look and you saw how his cheeks flushed.

“Okay, so I got scared!” he exclaimed. “Sue me for wanting the best doctor,” he grumbled and you felt your heart warm at the sentiment.

“Aw, Mickey. That’s really sweet,” you said, finishing up and applying an ointment along the stitches before bandaging it. “Those should dissolve in a week, I’ll check up on them as I see you,” you said as you stood and swapped for fresh gloves before sitting beside Fanboy. 

“That’s a big needle, Jupiter,” he said as you picked up the lidocaine and you gave him a soft smile.

“It only looks big, I’m barely going to insert it, and trust me once I start on the stitches you’re going to be glad you did it.” you said, bringing the needle around his line of vision so he couldn’t see it as you lined it up, “alright, deep breath and little pinch,” you said as you administered it as quickly as you could.

“Oh, I barely felt it,” he said, looking sheepish for being scared in the first place and you chuckled.

“That’s what you get for holding out for the best,” you said as you started his stitches and finished in record time. “You know, if you guys were mad at me for kicking you out you didn’t have to land yourselves in the ER,” you teased as you picked up their charts to scribble down your notes. 

“You kicked them out?” Phoenix laughed loudly as you reached into the supply cart to your left and pulled three lollipops from the top drawer to distribute.

“For being such good patients,” you said with a smirk and they gave you a look of annoyance but took them anyway. 

“Yeah, she used us for our manual labor and then kicked us to the curb,” Rooster pouted and you rolled your eyes.

“You were being annoying, now get up, you're wasting beds in a busy emergency department,” you said as you walked over to the desk to sign off on their discharges.

“I’m sorry for paging, Dr. J, I know we could have handled it but-” Dr. Rogers started but you shook your head.

“You did the right thing, if anyone comes in here saying they know me always page me, even if it’s a bunch of grown men whining over sprained ankles and small lacerations,” you joked as you walked over to see Jake helping Coyote out of bed. “Well, now I need a drink. Meet at the Hard Deck?” you asked and everyone nodded as they headed into the parking lot and dispersed to their cars, chuckling as Coyote threw out a thanks mom and dad as Phoenix loaded him into her car.

“So much for our perfect first night in,” you sighed as Jake opened the passenger door for you.

“I think this is about as perfect as it was going to get for us, sweetheart,” he said, leaning in to give you a kiss before softly closing it. “Besides, I’m going home with you at the end of the night… doesn’t get much better than that.” he said as he pulled out of the lot.

“Cheeseball,” you chuckled, looking over at him as the setting sun illuminated his profile and you sighed in content. The past ten years had been full of ups and downs, but you couldn’t have imagined a high better than this one as his hand came to settle on your thigh. You finally had Jake, you were planning your future and you had friends that might have been annoying but always showed up… and called when they needed you. Every long night so far away from him, every stressful exam and every tedious surgery during your residency led you here, and you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt you had never been happier.

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[shannankle]

Shadow the Series and Hamlet

Okay so after finishing the first half of Shadow there’s so much to unpack. So instead of doing the research I should be doing for my dissertation, let’s dig into some connections between literature and BL once again!

This won’t be a fully formed meta, and I’ll probably have to make a whole other post once the whole series is out. But I wanted to start thinking about how the show is dialoguing with and speaking to similar themes as Hamlet within a queer framework.

I thought I’d work my way through some different interpretations of Hamlet and connect back to Shadow. To be clear, I’m working with scholarship on Hamlet rather than any personal interpretation of Hamlet itself (which I unfortunately haven’t read or watched in many a years).

A quick summary

Hamlet and Shadow via Freud's Oedipal Complex

Hamlet and Shadow via Lee Edelman's work on queerness, the death drive, and queer time

Hamlet and Shadow via self-recognition and resistant readings

A few other directions

Hamlet and the Oedipal Complex

Back in 1897, Freud wrote about Hamlet in a letter to a friend noting that “falling in love with the mother and jealousy of the father…[was] a universal event of early childhood.” So Hamlet was one of the texts that Freud was thinking about when he came up with the Oedipal complex as a concept.

You may be asking, as I often do, who gives a fuck what Freud thought? Well over time, Freudian interpretations of the play highly influenced how it was performed and the ways that themes about subjectivity and sexuality were portrayed.

The 1948 and 1990 film adaptations in particular put stress on a sexually charged dynamic between Hamlet and his mother Gertrude. The later film has Hamlet lying on top of and wrestling with his mother before they kiss. More recent adaptations tend to move away from this, but, overall, it’s been extremely influential in terms of how the play has been interpreted and adapted.

So how does this come up in Shadow? 

Dan’s role as Hamlet is closely framed around his relationship with his father who he beats up in the dream world right before his death. We’re introduced to Dan’s dad during his audition for Hamlet. Perhaps in the most obvious parallel, Dan recites Hamlet’s lines as he goes to find his father’s ghost. And of course, this is when Dan’s dad appears as a ghost as well.

Yet, Dan’s narrative with his father seems to buck the expected relationship between father and son. Throughout the play, Hamlet struggles between a desire to fulfill his filial duty and avenge his father and the increasing violence and tragedy this brings. But Dan? In the face of abuse, he chooses to defiantly reject his father and filial piety, accepting and even wishing for his death. In many ways, Dan’s dad is more analogous to Claudius, the usurper and man trying to kill Hamlet. Through his abuse he loses the right to be Dan’s father. 

A shallow oedipal reading of Hamlet, frames Claudius as the father Hamlet is trying to kill, but ignores that this dynamic is born from Claudius’ cruelty. By acknowledging abuse, power, and violence Shadow perhaps takes an interesting step away from a pure Freudian reading. Because ultimately Dan doesn’t want to be his father! In fact, as he speaks with him and beats him up, we can see the way Dan is shaken, not by the act of harming or killing his father, but by the idea of becoming him. His father makes clear that “becoming him” is aligned with ideas about what it means to be a man, to be “the father” within a straight patriarchal society. And in a beautiful moment of clarity and defiance as they discuss what love looks like, Dan clarifies that his mom left his father not him. 

Okay so he "kills" his dad, what about his mom?

To be honest, when I was wrapping up my watch of the episodes, my head went towards the oedipal theory as a crack theory. What if the ghost is his mom, that’d be pretty effed up lol...But now that I’ve seen that the connection isn’t just one I made, it doesn’t seem as far fetched. The scenes between Hamlet and Gertrude in the 1990s film certainly could be an influence on the shadow getting sexual if they went that route. But to be honest I don’t really think they’ll go this way. Or at least I hope not. They’re already doing more nuanced things with the oedipal dynamic. Plus I think there’s more going on if we turn to queerer interpretations anyway.

The Death Drive, Queering Freud, and Queer Time

In Freud’s work, he talked about two opposing forces. The first was the death drive (later termed Thanatos by later psychoanalysts). This was a drive toward destruction that stood opposite to eros or life-producing drives such as sex, survival, and reproduction. 

Now, in 2004, queer theorist Lee Edelman would come in and queer the heck out of these concepts. I’ll be over simplifying Edelman’s points a lot here, but hopefully the core will remain. 

Edelman would point out that the life-drive was often weaponized rhetorically, politically, and socially as a way to reproduce cultural norms. Edelman often writes about "the Child"--that is the mythical idea of a child that we should be building society and the future for. Think of how often the “think of the children” rhetoric gets used in anti-queer politics, for example. In fact, Edelman points to oedipal readings of Hamlet as one way that dominant straight society has attempted to manage a narrative where reproduction and futurity are foreclosed. Oedipal readings of Hamlet, then, could be seen as an attempt to suppress the death drive, to put it out of sight where it can’t cause disruption or anxiety.

Of course, Edelman also notes that the death drive is inherently tied to and projected onto queerness and queer people–onto “those abjected as non-reproductive, anti-social, opposed to viability, and so as threats to the Child who assures and embodies collective survival”. And so, Edelman argues that queer people should embrace the death drive and queer time–that is non-futurity and non-linear, non-productive time. 

So how might these ideas be showing up in Shadow so far?

I might think of even more later, but here’s a short list:

1. All three of our main characters are abjected. Nai is gay, Trin is gay and mentally ill, and Dan is potentially both. I think we could argue that the connection all three of them have to death also quite literally marks them as abjected. And perhaps we could consider how the supernatural elements thematically and symbolically connect to their alterity and the way this is in conflict with social norms. In fact, I’d argue that, unlike Nai and Trin who are explicitly stated to be queer and/or mentally ill, Dan’s alterity is playing out through this more allegorical channel so far. 

2. Literal death as a central focus. 

3. Haunting as a limbo between past and present. This liminality feels very queer here.

4. The idea of vengeful ghosts makes the death drive perpetually present in a way that haunts futurity. Interestingly Edelman describes the death drive as a “negativity that haunts the social order” and which is “projected onto those who occupy the position of the queer.” Haunting has very queer thematic possibilities. 

5. Think of the ghost story told in the market in episode seven. The homophobia on display clearly ties queerness to death in a way that speaks to straight norms and anxieties. 

6. Dan is told by the monk that what is happening has to do with overlapping time frames: past, present, and future

7. Dan often loses his sense of what is real or a dream, but he also has moments where he loses his sense of time and temporality. Notice how when the art statue fell and he saw his classmates dead we jump back to before he even spoke with Nai. It’s not just losing time but jumping back and forth. 

8. Sexy times with a shadow monster are certainly non-(re)productive 

9. We learn that Trin has been trying to change things, disrupt the social norms, but he is shut down and told the school needs to hold onto tradition. While we often think of tradition as referring to the past, it is very much about continuing and reproducing this into the future. School director: "But think of the future Children who won’t get to experience the epic highs and lows of high school hazing”

10. There seems to be a tension at play between Brother Anurak who is trying to get Dan to just stop believing in the shadow (not sure if that's his actual motive but still) and Dan who is slowly starting to embrace the shadow (literally and figuratively). Perhaps this could be read as embracing the death drive and queerness. 

Hamlet, Self-Recognition, and Resistant Reading

Another theme that has often been explored by folks interested in Hamlet is that of self-recognition. The play focuses so very much on Hamlet struggling with his sense of self. And this speaks well to contemporary western ideas of the individual. One scholar, Marjorie Garbor, has noted that “the experience of Hamlet is almost always that of recognition.” While another, John Gouws remarks that Hamlet and Shakespeare’s sonnets both “seem capable of functioning like Rorschach inkblots, by making us reveal (increasingly) more about ourselves the more we try saying something about them.”

It’s interesting to me then that Hamlet and Rorschach tests are both used in Shadow, but they don’t seem to say all that much about Dan. The blot is simply a tool to test if Dan is still seeing the shadow. It isn’t used to psychoanalyze him further. And when Cha-aim asks Dan to compare himself to Hamlet he hilariously just says both their dads are dead. Of course we know that Hamlet’s dad and Dan’s aren’t exactly analogous either. Dan rejects this sort of self-identification. Or perhaps, the play rejects him? At the very least we know that he can’t perform the type of filial love that Hamlet has for his own father.

But perhaps this rejection has queer implications as well. There’s a really lovely article from the perspective of a queer South African director, Thys Heydenrych. He talks about reading and staging Hamlet through a queer and decolonial lens. In his piece he quotes Hanna Kubowitz who discusses queer readers' relationship with texts. She notes that “[b]eing heterosexual has several benefits…One can enter into most cultural narratives…on the basis of simple and satisfying identification.” This of course made me think of the moment when Cha-aim asks Dan to identify with Hamlet.

Whether we read this as an active refusal on Dan’s part or as the play being inhospitable to Dan’s identification, Cha-aim is asking Dan to express and perform identity here. Perhaps this could be read as her asking Dan to narratively self-identify with straight culture and values. It makes sense in the context of her having feelings for him and ties well into the scene where she tries to pick his costume. While Dan isn’t yet identifying as queer, he seems to be dis-identifying from straightness just as he dis-identifies from his father’s version of manhood. 

Still, motifs of self-recognition or the struggle to understand oneself seem to abound. The use of mirrors in episodes 6 and 7 speak to this theme well with the blurring of self and other, while also tying into both horror motifs and the Greek mythology being referenced (Orpheus and Eurydice, narcissus perhaps). Is the shadow a part of him?   

What I’ll be curious to see is how the show chooses to engage with this theme. Will Hamlet continue to serve as a narrative that is inhospitable to identification or will it be queered. There’s a tradition of scholarship that thinks about resistant reading. This is when a reader engages with a text that wasn’t designed with them in mind, but finds potential despite this. Certainly Shakespeare’s work and Hamlet in particular have been interpreted as queer at times, and Hamlet is definitely open to these readings.

When it comes to Shadow, however, I’m interested in what one scholar, Lois Tyson, has asked about resistant reading: “How might the works of heterosexual writers be reread to reveal an unspoken or unconscious lesbian, gay, or queer presence?” This idea of a hidden queer presence speaks well to the idea of haunting. I’m really interested to see how the use of Hamlet as a narrative might speak to the idea of queerness as hidden presence and whether this continues to play out in the second half.  

A few other connections that I want to wait to think on more:

-Madness seems to be a shared theme but I want to see how Shadow handles this as a whole before commenting, but you can check out my post on queer and crip time in The Eighth Sense if you're interested in that element at all

-Power and oppression. Heydenrych’s article mentions a 2010 production that focuses on Denmark’s repressive political system and themes of surveillance, control, and abuse of power. These seem like themes working their way into Shadow but I’d want to be more familiar with the topic in Hamlet

-Suicide. There are versions of Hamlet that heighten this theme further with Gertrude and Ophelia in particular being framed as making attempts. 

-Play within a play and the blurring of fiction and reality

-Decolonial and religious elements

Sources:

Heydenrych, Thys. “‘To tell our Storie’: Reflections on a Queer Adaptation of Hamlet in Twenty-first Century South Africa” Shakespeare in Southern Africa vol 30, 2017. pp. 43-55

Edelman, Lee. “Against Survival: Queerness in a Time That’s Out of Joint” Shakespeare Quarterly, 62.2, 2011. pp. 148-169.

Edelman, Lee. No Future: Queer Theory and The Death Drive. Duke University Press, 2004.

Note: Most other sources were mentioned in the Heydenrych piece

[amor1st03]

The Moon is Beautiful, isn't it? | Han Jisung

Han Jisung x fem!reader

roommates to lovers, fuckboy!jisung

warnings: some swearing, mentions of sex, making out but nothing too detailed, implied sexual intercourse but no smut cos I can’t right smut lol, Jisung can act like a bit of an arse at parts but not to the reader, lmk if I missed anything

word count: 3k

in which: your roommate, Han Jisung, never kept the girls he brought home a secret from you, but that didn’t mean he had nothing to confess

a/n: I was sitting on this one for a while, saving it for when I had nothing else to post and here we are I guess lol, I'm working on some other stuff I've just had a lot going on recently but yeah if you're reading this I hope you enjoy!

Skz masterlist

one

For him, it happened all at once

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Jisung certainly didn't, he believed it was a connection that grew over time, love was something that took time to develop. That all changed the first time he saw you.

He had just finished unpacking the day he moved into his student flat and was yet to meet his roommate. He left his room and headed to the kitchen, intending on making himself some food while he waited for his new roommate.

As he rounded the corner, into the kitchen, he was smacked straight in the face and sent flying back, falling onto the floor. The person carrying the stack of boxes that he had just walked into, dropped them without hesitation, crouching down in front of him. He held his head, eyes squeezed shut.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

He opened his eyes to face the person in front of him.

And there you were.

For a moment, he was convinced he had died and gone to heaven. Everything around you faded, he found that the ache in his heart as he looked at you was more painful than the throbbing in his head. He knew not even the greatest poets of all time could do his feelings justice at that moment. So this is what love at first sight feels like. He thought to himself.

"Y-yeah, I'm alright."

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea you were there and I was just carrying so many things. Do you want me to get you some painkillers or some ice or I don't know, anything? I'm rambling that probably doesn't help." He simply smiled. "Are you sure you're alright? I really am sorry."

"I'm more than alright, really." You relaxed a little.

"Okay, good." You stood up, holding out your hand for him. He took it and you helped him up. Electricity shot through him when your hand met his, he could've sworn he could practically see the sparks. "Sit down, just in case." He did as you told him to, sitting at the dining table. You looked at him, still concerned for a moment, but breaking out in a small laugh.

"Well, that was one hell of a first impression, I can't believe I nearly knocked you out the first time we met." he joined in your laughter.

"Yeah, maybe try and get to know me first before you try to kill me." You both continued to laugh. Jisung's heart raced when he heard your laughter. He wanted to write a song as beautiful as it sounded.

"I'm Jisung, by the way." He held out his hand, hoping you would shake it just so he had an excuse to feel that electricity again.

"Y/N. It's really nice to meet you." You shook his hand, much to his excitement, smiling brightly at him.

***

Gone was that gorgeous smile that always seemed to put him in a trance. Your face held a look of disappointment. It was the most painful thing for Jisung to see. He would rather you hate him than be disappointed in him. It weighed so much more on his heart than if you hated him.

"Look, I don't care who you sleep with. As long as you are both aware that it's just a one-time thing, for a bit of fun. But have you ever once considered their feelings?"

"I..."

"Jisung, you don't see the way some of the girls you bring home leave this place. They're distraught when you tell them you had fun but it was a one-time thing. And it hurts me too because I know you're a good guy, I just don't understand why you don't consider their feelings," You raised your voice, looking at the boy who sat dejectedly in front of you.

"I can't help it."

"Bullshit, all you have to do is talk to them, make it clear from the get-go that it's a one-night stand, that it doesn't mean anything. It isn't that hard!" You shouted at him.

"It's more difficult than you think!"

"Give me one reason why you don't think about their feelings. Give me one fucking reason why you seem to become such an inconsiderate, selfish asshole?"

"I'm sorry, it's just in the moment I'm so focused on my own feelings, and I know I'm selfish and an asshole, you think I wanna be like this? You think I wanna have all these meaningless one-night stands?"

"Then why do you do it?! Why keep bringing these girls home if you don't really want to?!"

"As a distraction." The two of you were screaming at the top of your lungs now.

"As a distraction? From what, your real feelings? Ha, let me guess there's some girl that you just can't get over but instead of plucking up the courage and facing your feelings you just keep fucking whoever’s willing to sleep with you, hoping to get her off your mind, right?" You scoffed as he just looked at you. You had read him so easily and he wasn't even sure you were even aware of how well you had hit the nail on the head. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh my god, that's it isn't it? I can't believe you, right now, Jisung. You're a coward."

"Fine, alright, I'm a coward, I can't bring myself to confess."

"No, you're not a coward because you can't confess, that I get, believe me. You're a coward because you hurt these girls because you won't face your own feelings." You couldn't even be bothered to shout anymore, you felt exhausted from arguing. "I'm going out for a walk to cool off, we can talk through this when we have both calmed down."

two

For you, it happened gradually.

You were carrying your boxes full of your things, stacked high in your arms, into your new room. You had just started university and were yet to meet your new roommate. You had found your way to the kitchen, where you balanced the boxes on the table to place down the bag of food you had brought for yourself. Next, you moved on to take your things to your room. You picked the stack of boxes back up and were walking away from the kitchen when something collided with the boxes. You heard a grunt as someone fell to the floor in front of you. In an instant, you dropped the boxes to the side and crouched down to look at the boy in front of you. You panicked, asking if he was alright and if there was anything you could do to help him. When you had finally managed to help him up and sat him at the table you were able to properly look at him.

The boy was handsome and there was something that seemed so sweet about him. You knew you were going to be good friends with him.

"I'm Jisung, by the way." He held out his hand, which you instantly took, introducing yourself.

"Y/N. It's really nice to meet you." His eyes glimmered as he smiled at you.

"Well, Jisung, since I nearly concussed you, how about I pay for dinner tonight, we can order something in, as a housewarming gift for ourselves?"

"Sounds good to me, what do you have in mind?"

"Whatever you want, only seems fair after my attempted assassination."

***

When Jisung first started bringing girls home to hookup you weren't jealous.

Hell, you would bring the occasional date home so what right did you have scolding him for it?

It was the first girl that cried that made your heartache.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, having some breakfast when the girl left Jisung's room in floods of tears.

"W-who are you?" She asked when she saw you, wiping her tears.

"Jisung's roommate. Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine, he's just a dickhead. I thought he liked me, turns out I was just another hookup. You know I liked him for months? Tried to get his attention for months? But I meant nothing to him." And without another word she stormed out of your apartment.

That wasn't the last time you saw a girl leave his room crying. And your heart did hurt for the girls.

You probably should've taken it all as a warning not to fall for him. But the more time you spent with him the more your heart began to race when he smiled at you. The more it fluttered when he laughed.

You had been his roommate for a year when you realised that your little crush on the boy had become something more. It was a night like any other. You were sat together, eating the food you had both cooked.

"You know, this is my favourite time of the day. Just sitting with you, eating and talking about everything and nothing." His small confession made you smile.

"Yeah, it's mine too," You admitted.

"I hope we can always stay like this, forever." That was all it took for you to realise you loved him. And you were okay with it. You felt a strange sense of peace when it came to loving him. He may never know about it but loving him from a distance, in secret, was alright for you.

After your realisation there was some part of you that started to feel jealous but, in your mind, you knew they were meaningless. And maybe it was selfish of you but that gave you some comfort because the girls he brought home never experienced the side of him you got to see. They never got to wear his clothes, cuddling up on the sofa together to watch a film or feel the way he would softly brush their hair from their eyes. Never got to see that smile he reserved especially for you. Never knew the way it felt to be truly cared for by him. Sure, your heart ached for the girls, but some selfish part of you was too busy thinking about the way he loved you, even if it was as only a friend.

***

It was like that for a while. But the more frequent the crying girls became the more you heard about his ways. The worry that he wasn't who you thought he was began nagging you. Until finally you had enough. You couldn't take it anymore. So, when he sauntered out of his room, a little while after another girl had left crying, you finally snapped.

The argument got heated quickly. The two of you had never argued like this before. You looked at the boy in front of you. The boy you thought you knew. Could you be wrong about him? How can he hurt the girls he brings home and yet act so sweet to you?

"I'm going out for a walk to cool off, we can talk through this when we have both calmed down." He watched you leave, his eyes lingering on the door after you had shut it. You left your apartment building and went for a walk around the local park where you and Jisung would sometimes have picnics when the weather was especially nice. There, you sat on the swings thinking back to the countless times you had sat here with Jisung beside you, late at night, stargazing. The last time you were here it was a particularly cool night so Jisung lent you his jacket. It had been warm and cozy and smelt like him.

"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is." You turned to look at him to find he was already gazing at you.

You sighed to yourself, as you continued to remember all the fond memories you shared with him. After half an hour or so you felt a lot calmer and ready to talk to him, so you headed back to your apartment.

three

Either way, you were just two people in love

Once you were back at the apartment you found Jisung sitting on the sofa, staring into space in deep thought.

"Hey," You said quietly.

"Hi," He replied as you took a seat next to him.

"I hate to argue with you. But the way you were treating those girls was making me doubt if I really knew you. I know deep down, you're not a bad guy. I know you're sweet and kind and funny but you can't keep hurting people, Jisung, even if you are trying to protect your own feelings. It isn't right."

"I know. I messaged the girl that left this morning and apologised. And I told her the truth. About why I act that way."

"The girl you like, right?" It stung a little as you said it.

"Yeah."

"Can I be honest?" He nodded. "I think that sleeping with all these girls is hurting you too. It's making you repress these feelings you have for whoever this girl is. Maybe you should spend some time just thinking about the way you truly feel. You're a good guy and anybody would be lucky to be with you. I'm not saying you should do it right now but I think you should eventually tell her..."

"That I love her?"

"Yeah."

"I kinda just did."

"What?" Your heart dropped. There was a tense atmosphere surrounding the two of you. He reached up gently stroking the hair away from your eyes.

"Y/N." He said it so quietly you almost missed it. He leaned in, hesitant at first, but when you didn't pull away he gently kissed you. Your hand came up to cup his face as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him, and deepening the kiss. You had never been kissed like this before. With so much love and affection. The number of fireworks and sparks set off in your stomach could give a New Year's Eve display a run for its money. He guided you back to lay on the sofa, his body resting on top of yours. The warmth felt like wrapping a blanket around yourself on a cold winter's day. You parted your lips slightly allowing his tongue to explore further, intensifying the kiss. You broke away gasping for air but soon his lips began to trail kisses along your jawline, neck, collarbone.

"Jisung." He hummed in reply.

"Is it really me?" He pulled away to look you in the eyes.

"Of course it's you."

"I just...I don't want to just be some hookup."

"You'd never be just some hookup. Y/N, you must know, it's always been you. I love you. I have since the day you nearly knocked me out with a stack of boxes." You both smiled fondly at the memory.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because how could you ever have felt the same? Wait, you do feel the same, right?"

"Stupid question. Of course, I feel the same."

"You're sure?" You sighed softly, stroking his cheek.

"Han Jisung, I love you." He smiled brightly at you. "Now kiss me again before I die of anticipation." He didn't need to be told twice. His lips met yours again as your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him even closer. Eventually, the two of you found your way to his room. He shut the door. The night consisted of soft giggles and gentle touches as the rest of the world faded away.

***

Jisung's favourite part of his one-night stands was always the morning after. When he woke up with his arm over somebody's waist. He always kept his eyes shut, imagining it was you beside him. He imagined you, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek, whispering sweet nothings to him. He wanted to start every day holding you close to him.

Today, his wish was granted. Instead of keeping his eyes shut and imagining you, he opened his eyes to gaze at your sleeping figure. He couldn't keep the smile from his face. He pulled you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. As you began to stir he traced gently patterns on your waist.

"Good morning, beautiful," He said once you opened your eyes.

"Good morning."

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"I love you." He pecked your cheek.

"You're so sappy."

"I don't care. Now that it's out there I'm going to tell you as much as humanly possible." You laughed at the boy beside you, totally lovestruck.

"I can't believe it took us this long to confess, we were really stupid."

"Well, technically, I had confessed before last night."

"What? When?"

"The last time we were stargazing in the park. Remember what I said?"

”That if I didn’t buy you coffee in the morning for keeping you up so late to watch the stars you’d get the locks changed?”

“Shut up.” You both laughed again, the two of you couldn’t seem to hide away the giddiness you both felt.

“Fine, what did you say?”

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

"And?"

"And? You really don't know what that means? It's basically a way of saying 'I love you.'"

"Oh. You really are sappy, aren't you?" You laughed slightly.

"It doesn't matter because guess what? You love me too. You are totally, completely, 100% in love with me."

"Yeah, fine, I'm totally, completely, 100% in love with you." You continued to smile at him. You leaned him and gave him a small but loving kiss. His lips chased yours as you pulled away. "Jisung, we need to get up." You tried to move away from him but he only pulled you closer, wrapping his arms even tighter around you.

"Why?" He whined.

"Because we have plans with Chan and Changbin today."

"Let's cancel."

"No, we can't cancel. Now let me go," You said, but with no conviction.

"Never. Now that I've got you I'll never let you go."

"Sappy." You teased him again.

"You love it.”

[deantfwinchester]

Fresh Start 2/?

Pairing: Pre-Outbreak!Joel x Neighbor!Reader

Summary: When you move to Austin after finishing grad school, all on your own, you find a small house for rent next door to a handsome contractor and his teenage daughter. He gives you a hand moving in, but it turns out he could use more help than he knows.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Lol more Looking After Joel content (like anyone’s surprised)

Pre-outbreak or no outbreak (take ur pick). It's f!reader, 2nd person, w/ no use of Y/N.

Welcome once again to the Joel Miller fluff crusade.

Part 1

You saw Joel and Sarah a few more times in passing over the next few days, each time smiling warmly and waving across the way, but always on the way out. Most days you saw a younger man on the way out with the two of them, who bore some resemblance to Joel, and you figured that must be his brother Tommy. Sarah had mentioned her Uncle Tommy while recounting her day over loose pieces of bookcase as the three of you built a few nights prior. 

Since that night, you’d been trying to find the time to gather what you needed to make dinner for your neighbors, in an effort to adequately thank them for all their help getting your new home put together. After spending the weekend unpacking the last of your things, you resolved to hit the grocery store for the ingredients you’d need on Monday after work, and try to get dinner ready for delivery next door around the time Joel got home.  Monday morning, you noticed it was just Joel and Sarah hopping in the truck as you got ready to leave for the day from your own driveway. Joel looked over at you, squinting in the bright morning sun, and smiled wide, waving. 

“Just the two of you this morning?” you called, waving back at him.

“Yep. My brother’s outta town. Took a long weekend,” he said, walking over to you. You began walking as well, meeting him halfway. “I’ll have to introduce you two sometime soon.”

“Definitely, I’d like to meet him,” you said, smiling back at him. 

He nods back and continues, lifting one arm up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. “Oh, I uh, got an idea of how my week’s gonna look. Would you wanna come over for dinner on Wednesday? I think Sarah would really like it, and you could meet Tommy too, since he’s around all the time. Damn near lives here himself.” 

You tried hard to keep your eyes on Joel’s while he spoke, but you couldn’t help but be distracted by the way his shirt lifted barely two inches above the waist of his jeans, exposing a bit of his stomach. Your neck burned a little thinking of him, silently scolding yourself, pleading to Get A Grip. “Wednesday? Um, yeah, I don’t think I’m busy at all. I’d love to,” you replied almost too quickly. Joel didn’t seem to notice, however, mostly seeming relieved, and he smiled in response. God he had a gorgeous smile. Starting to seem like the Texas heat wouldn’t be the only thing making you melt. 

“Great! We’ll be looking forward to it,” he said, satisfied with your answer.

“I will be too! Thank you, Joel,” you replied, hoping he saw only your earnest appreciation and not your cheeks warming under his gaze. 

“Anytime. Well, I gotta get her to school,” he said, pausing and turning a bit to walk back toward the truck. Once again slightly bashful, he added one last thing.

“I hope you have a, uh, wonderful day, darlin’.” No doubt he could see the red in your face now, almost stuttering at his genuine tone. 

“I-I hope you do too, Joel. I’ll see y’all later,” you replied, smiling back and turning to your own car. He watched as you got into the car, and didn’t return to his own until he heard your engine start. Taking a moment to gather yourself in the driver’s seat, you realized this crush on Joel was only going to grow each time you talked to him. You tried to tell yourself this was a bad idea. Joel’s your neighbor, and you wanted to keep it friendly and welcoming, and you had no idea how Sarah would react if something ever did happen between the two of you. No, you’d make sure to get a hold of it before bringing dinner over for the two of them tonight, which you’d conveniently left out of the conversation with Joel. You’re wanting it to be a surprise thank-you, and thinking it might be nice to not have to worry about what to do about dinner after working in the heat all day. For your neighbor. Your friend. Just that. 

_____________________________________________________________

You arrived back home around five, shopping done and ready to start cooking. You set to preparing the different parts of the meal you were making. The lasagna you took a bit of time and assembly, and you were definitely making quite the mess. Around the time the bolognese finished, you looked out the window and noticed Joel’s truck still wasn’t outside the house next door. Not too concerning, you knew he worked late quite a bit. If nothing else, you could bring dinner to Sarah, and he’d have less to worry about when he did get home.

You’d been cooking for over an hour when you noticed the sun beginning to set outside. You got the hefty casserole dish into the oven, and cleaned up the mess you’d created in your kitchen, tying up the very full garbage bag to take outside. As you headed toward the cans in your driveway, a taxi pulled up in front of the house next door. Now this was strange, you had yet to see a single cab in your very residential neighborhood. You noticed as well that Joel’s truck still wasn’t in their driveway. This made more sense as you watched Sarah emerge from the back of the car on the street side and quickly walk around to the lawn, opening the door for the other passenger. You certainly were not expecting Joel to emerge from the car, grip tight on the top of the door, with Sarah leaning in to help him out. As he got out and shut the door, draping an arm over Sarah, with a pained expression on his face. While he leant heavily on the cab’s door, Sarah reached in and pulled out a pair of crutches, helping him to get a grip on the first one. After settling on the first crutch, Joel pushed the door to the cab shut behind him, and began to hobble forward. Before Joel can grab the other crutch from Sarah, you see him begin to lose his balance, enough to instinctively go down on his newly wrapped ankle, and you rush forward to help. 

“Woah! Hang on a second!” you call as you approach them. Joel is huffing with effort when he notices you, and lifts his arm, allowing you to slip right underneath and support his side. Joel straightens up, leaning heavily on you, and lets out a breathy “Thank you.”

“‘course.  Looked like you needed a hand,” you smile up at him. He smiles back down at you, and despite your grin, he could see your eyes wide, and brows knitting together in concern. Joel felt a growing warmth in his chest at the sight, reminding him of the wave he felt during your conversation this morning. 

You motion for Sarah on Joel’s other side to hand you the remaining crutch, and help him get a comfortable hold, as you slip out from beneath his shoulder. You keep hold of him as he adjusts, letting your hand linger lightly on his back.

“Good? Okay, let’s get you inside, then I want the story,” you said, rubbing his back a bit before letting go. Joel trudged forward, shifting his focus toward keeping his balance rather than missing the feeling of your hand, warm against his back. You kept close to his side, making sure he was stable, as Sarah led the way inside. 

The two of you got Joel seated on the couch, and Sarah ran to her room to change out of her school clothes. You take Joel’s crutches and place them on the wall by the couch, and sit down on the ottoman in front of him, motioning for him to place his injured leg up next to you. 

“Comfy?” you asked, and Joel nodded. 

“As I’m gonna get for right now, I think.”

“Okay, story time. What the hell happened today?” 

That look was back on your face, Joel realized, the one you gave him outside from beneath his shoulder, that warmed him from the inside. He just wanted to look at you for a while, feeling like he could melt under the care in your eyes. 

“I, uh, fell. On site today,” he responds, a bit flustered after catching his too-long pause. 

You wait a beat for him to elaborate, and when he doesn’t, you speak. 

“Wow. You’re a riveting storyteller, Joel. Way to paint a picture for me. Feel like I was there,” you say with more sarcasm than he can bear at the moment. Joel groans and rolls his eyes at your tone, and you grin at him, placing your hand on his injured leg, rubbing lightly, attempting to coax more of an explanation from him. “Okay, so injury acquired at work, that much we know. I assume also, based on the wrapped ankle and accompanying crutches, you saw a doctor somewhere? What did they say?”

Joel sighed, conceding to your press for information. “Yep, at work. Fall involved some scaffolding and I, uh, got unlucky, I guess. One of the guys drove me to get it checked out, and Sarah met us there. ‘S just a sprain, not a big deal,” he shrugged. Before you could respond, you heard Sarah yell from the hall. 

“He’s lying!” she said. Joel sighs at this, shaking his head, opening his mouth to protest as she walks back in the room. “Nope. Don’t even try it. We came from the ER, where he waited two hours, got an x-ray, and the doctor told him he’s very lucky it’s not a fracture.” She placed her hands on her hips and looked at you, exasperated. 

“It’s fine,” Joel says, “just gotta wait a couple days, then I can get back to work.”

“A week. The doctor said a week before you can go back to work. Then he said you need to spend another week supervising, no heavy lifting.” Sarah’s spiel made Joel sigh once again, this time in defeat. Your eyes were wide, impressed by her ability to both keep track and wear him down. 

“Good memory.” you say incredulously, smiling at her. 

“He remembers too, he’s just lying. That’s why I took the bus to the hospital instead of home like he told me. To hear the instructions myself,” she says to you, though pointed elsewhere. “ And Uncle Tommy’s still out of town, so…”

“So you took a cab home from the ER??” you say, turning your head back to face Joel, who looks at you confused. It’s Sarah’s turn to sigh now, and she turns toward the kitchen. 

“I’m getting something to drink,” she breathes, and turns to Joel, “keep that elevated!”

You turn back to Joel now. You’re touched by Sarah’s concern, and give him a look letting him know as much, and wait for him to continue.

“Easier than the bus like this,” he shrugged.

“Well, what about the guy who drove you there? Where’d he go?” you ask. 

“He had to get back to work, couldn’t wait around. ‘Specially with me gone for the rest of the day,” he says, like it made perfect sense. You look at him, face once again marked with worry but without the accompanying smile, he notices. You reach around Joel’s side and grab the throw pillow sitting next to him on the couch, then tap his leg lightly, signaling to lift it from the ottoman. You slide the pillow into the space he occupied, then move his leg back down to settle on top, laying your hand above his ankle once again. 

“I get it,” you tell him, “but I don’t want it to happen again. Gimme your phone.” You take his phone and add your number to his contacts, and hand it back to him after sending yourself a text. “So next time-“

“Next time? You plottin’ my next fumble?” Joel asks, grinning at you. You shake your head at him. 

“Let me finish! Next time you need a ride, or anything else you think I could help with, call me,” you say, gesturing to the phone now back in his hand. “I put my number in there and sent myself a text so I have yours now too.”

“Well, thank you, darlin’, but you don’t have to-“ Joel starts, but you cut him off. 

“Nope. Promise me you’ll use it. If you need to, if you want to, for anything either of you need. I know your brother’s usually here, but just, put me above the cab company on the list, at least. Promise?” you plead with Joel. The worried face is back, and he’ll do just about anything to make it go away. 

“I promise. Thank you,” he says, nodding, looking at you with a sincerity that reaches your bones. You look anywhere but at him, feeling your neck heat up into your ears like this morning. You pat his leg a couple of times, then stand, clearing your throat a bit. 

“Well. Safe to say you guys haven’t eaten yet, yeah?” you ask, loud enough that Sarah can hear in the kitchen. 

“Definitely not. And im stARVING,” says Sarah, walking back in and passing a glass of water and bottle of Advil to Joel, before placing an ice pack on his ankle. 

“Okay good, give me a couple minutes, and I’ll be right back.” Sarah’s eyes grow wide with curiosity, and you turn to head out the door just as Joel begins to protest. 

“What did you-“

“Just trust me,” you called to him, walking out, then peeked back in the door and pointed at Joel, “don’t go anywhere.” You said, raising your eyebrows at him. 

Sarah started laughing as he deadpanned back at you, eyes narrowed “Hilarious.”

“Too soon?” you ask him through laughter. He rolls his eyes and smiles at you, shaking his head. “Alright, I’ll be right back.”

______________________________________________________________

With all the excitement of the last hour, you’d run out the clock on dinner, with only a few minutes remaining on your timer when you walked back into your kitchen. You pulled the lasagna out of the oven, covered it in foil, then stacked some potholders and returned to Joel and Sarah’s. 

When you walk through the door, they turn to you, eyes wide. You can practically see their mouths watering like cartoon characters. Mission accomplished. 

“Okay, so I’d actually planned to bring dinner over here for y’all tonight. As a thank you for your help last week. Couldn’t have picked a better day, huh?” you say to the two of them. Joel just stares at you, speechless. He definitely hadn’t seen that coming, but he wasn’t really surprised. Just, didn’t know what to say. Sarah speaks for both of them. 

“You didn’t have to do that, we were happy to help. We had fun that night!” she says, excitedly, “but I am hungry, so come on.” Sarah leads you into the kitchen, then ushers you out, grabbing plates from the cabinet, insisting on handling it herself. You walk back into the living room, where Joel’s gathered his words, though they’re certainly nothing new. 

“This is real sweet, but you really didn’t have to do that, darlin’. Seriously,” Joel says to you, gravely. 

“I wanted to, Joel. Seriously.” you say, mirroring his intensity. 

“I’m sure you did. I don’t doubt that,” he says, smiling knowingly at you through the words. 

“Well, if you guys are good, I’m gonna get going. I’m sure you’re tired, so eat, enjoy, then get some rest,” you say to him, moving to leave. He’s exhausted, that’s for sure, but he’s also sure he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s got no idea how to make you stay, when Sarah walks back in from the kitchen, holding three plates filled with huge slices of the lasagna. 

“Nope, you’re staying. You made it, it’s huge, eat with us,” she pushes one plate into your hands and another into her father’s. 

“Oh, that’s sweet Sarah, but you guys have been through a lot today, I don’t want to intr-“

“Stay. Please. We’d really like you to.” This time it was Joel, insisting as well that you stay for dinner with them. With both of them staring up at you expectantly, you have no choice but to relent, taking your plate and sitting on the couch next to Joel.

______________________________________________________________

The three of you sat and ate together, first listening to Sarah tell stories of her day, then banding together to bully Joel into more details about what happened on site today. Sarah had a very strong feeling that, while unfortunate, the fall probably looked hilarious. The three of you giggled about the events of the day long after the empty plates were abandoned on the end tables. Sarah was curled up in a chair across from you two, when she got up, stretching, and announced she was heading to bed. She reached for the empty plates, but you stopped her before she could get to them. You told her not to worry about them, saying you would handle it, and she let you. After saying goodnight, she left for her room, leaving you and Joel alone. 

“You’ve gotta be pretty tired yourself, huh?” you ask Joel, reaching out and patting his arm, before getting up to grab the empty plates. 

“I’m alright. I’m glad you’re still here,” he says, that same sincerity in his eyes as he looks up at you, and you falter under his gaze, eager to busy yourself. Stacking the plates in one hand, you reach down and touch the ice pack on Joel’s ankle, finding it squishy and melted. 

“This, uh, this isn’t doing you any favors anymore. Hang on,” you grab the limp pack and carry it and the plates into the kitchen. After cleaning the dishes and covering the lasagna, you place it in the fridge, then open the freezer beneath it to replace the melted ice pack. Luckily, you find a second just like it, which you grab and return to the living room. 

You place the new ice pack on Joel’s elevated ankle, fiddling with it until you’re satisfied it’ll sit comfortably still. You’re at least partially trying to occupy yourself beneath his gaze, still unsure how to react to this feeling. He’s smirking at you when you meet his eyes, amused by your fussing over his injury. 

“You really don’t have to do that, sweetheart. I’ll be alright, I can handle it,” he says while you attempt to fluff the pillow beneath his leg before sitting down next to it on the large ottoman. You place your hand on his leg once again, this time not hesitating to rub comforting and light along his shin.

“I know you can. But so can I. You’ve had a long enough day, just let me help,” you tell more than ask him. 

“You already helped out plenty, bringing dinner over. She would’ve probably eaten something microwaved for dinner. Or worse, had to cook something for us herself. She does that enough already,” he glances down at his hands in his lap then, and you notice the guilt creeping into his voice. You lean forward then, and put one hand on his forearm, and he looks up, meeting your eyes.

“Hey,” you say gently, “she’s okay. More than okay, she’s wonderful. She was so sweet today, remembering every detail from the doctor, getting you in here and settled. It was adorable actually, watching you listen while she bossed you around a bit.”

“Sweet as can be, but ‘s not her job. I’m s’posed to be taking care of her, not asking her to take the bus home, or having her lug me out of a cab from the ER on a school night,” he says, running a hand over his face. You give his arm a reassuring squeeze before responding. 

“This whole situation was a one-time thing, and you know that. Getting hurt on the job the one day your brother’s not with you? Bad luck. All it can be. Don’t beat yourself up about this, and definitely not when you’re this exhausted,” you say to him, hoping to provide what little comfort you can. He nods a little, head turning back to his lap, looking at your hand still resting on his forearm.  “And don’t forget, find yourself in a run of luck like this again, you can call me instead.” You move your hand down, resting on top of his, and patting once again. As you move to lift it, he grabs your fingers, just wanting to keep your hand in his for a bit. You don’t move a muscle. 

“You really mean that, don’t ya?” he lifts his head again and smiles at you, still holding your fingers tight. 

You smile back, nodding at him, “anything you need, I told you,” squeezing his hand in return. He’s holding your hand in both of his now, and you rub little circles against the back of one with your free thumb. You wonder, for a moment, if you’re doing something you shouldn’t. He’s hurt, tired, and clearly carrying too much to think straight. Would a more awake, or less upset Joel be so open to this physical affection? Before you can spiral any further, Joel speaks again. 

“Well, in that case, I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you this week,” he says. 

“Anything. Shoot.”

“It’s a lot, and I hate to ask, if you can’t do it, I’ll understand,” he begins rambling. 

“Joel. Just tell me what you need,” you cut him off, squeezing his hand in yours. 

“Well, since I can’t drive for the time being, I was wondering if you could pick Sarah up from school for the rest of the week? Tommy’s on his way back already, he’ll get her there in the mornings, but without me there, he can’t leave the site in the middle of the day to get her home. She can take the bus if she needs to, it’s not a big deal, I just-“

“Joel. I’ll be happy to pick her up this week. My schedule is flexible, so it won’t be a problem. I’ll be there, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t wait on me either,” you assure him. 

“That’s- I can’t thank you enough, darlin’, really. I-“ Joel cuts himself off with a yawn, and you rise before he can even finish. 

“Alright, that’s my cue. And yours,” you keep his hand in yours, giving it one final squeeze before he lets his fall, reluctantly. “Time to put yourself and this day to bed. Do you need help getting up?”

He smiles at his lap once more. “No, I’ll be okay. I think I got the hang of those things anyway,” gesturing to the crutches against the wall behind him. “I’m gonna sit here a while longer. Thank you again for your help tonight. I’d walk you out, but..”

“Don’t you dare get up Joel, not until you’re heading straight to bed. Promise?” you smile back, making him swear once again. 

“I promise. Night, darlin’” he says, smiling slightly, eyelids at half mast. You doubted he was making it off the couch tonight, but you didn’t want to push. 

“Night, Joel. Get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow,” you lock the door from the inside on your way out, fairly confident Joel wouldn’t be getting up or remembering to do it himself. You walked out into the warm night air, head spinning with the countless moments you shared with Joel tonight. You didn’t realize how late it was until you walked back in your own home, feeling exhaustion take hold. You’ve got plenty to do tomorrow now, too, so sleep was of the essence. You head to bed yourself, silently thanking the universe you’d already cleaned up the kitchen.

[unhappycylinder]

Hellfire's Newest Member (Eddie x fem!Reader) Pt. 1

Quick note: i got impatient and posted this lol. This has been on my wattpad for months and I wanted to post it here lol. This is just part 1, I've got like 16 more chapters I'll be posting soon! Lmk what y'all think

Warnings/summary: some family trauma, nothing too spicy yet, this is just backstory (and Dustin) so we can get into the good stuff next time

Masterlist

---

You stepped into your new room in Hawkins, Indiana, a town which seemed to have just about as much personality as the bottom of a shoe. Glancing around the empty, but spacious room, you thought about how many rooms just like this you had lived in before. With your dad working some secret government job, you moved around the country a lot and hardly ever had time to really settle into a space or get to know the people around you.

It felt like just when you started to get used to a routine somewhere new - finally started decorating your room and hanging out with people outside of school - your dad would be relocated and you'd have to go with him. Your mom wasn't in the picture anymore, she had been gone since you were 13, and the only explanation your dad every gave you was that "she didn't want to live this type of life anymore, and we weren't enough to keep her around," the last bit always stung when you thought about it.

Dad was quiet after mom left, and he didn't really seem to care what you did with your time as long as your grades came back fine and you weren't gone for an unreasonable amount of time. Plus, working most nights meant he hardly had the schedule to keep tabs on where you were.

Nevertheless, a fresh start in Hawkins felt necessary. The last place you had been was LA, which was waaaay too big and waaay to noisy for your taste. That was another thing that set you apart from people your age: you weren't really into parties and shopping and sports like most high school seniors were. How could you be? You were never anywhere long enough to play anything or get invited anywhere. You kept yourself busy with books, movies, music, and most of all Dungeons and Dragons.

The game which was being shunned as a satanic cult was your escape from reality and the only constant thing in your life. Yes, it was hard to find a group to play an entire campaign with, but you managed, plus your favorite part was creating characters and imagining fantastic new worlds you'd love to explore. In fact, a good amount of the boxes you brought with you, which contained everything you owned, were full of binders, manuals, books, and figurines you had collected in your years of playing.

You started unpacking, throwing your childhood stuffed animals on your queen sized bed in the corner of your room, and stacking your plentiful collection of books and movies on the floor and on your desk. You were about to pull out your favorite books - The Lord of the Rings trilogy - when your dad knocked on your door

"Hey y/n, sorry to interrupt...uh I just got called into work so I'm gonna head out, but I'll leave some money on the counter for you"

"Oh okay, thanks. Do you know when you'll be ba-"

Before you could finish, he was out the door. You shook your head and returned to your packing, hearing your dad's car drive away outside.

-----

By the time you finished packing it was already dark outside and you could hear faint talking outside your window. You walked over, pulling your curtains aside, and looked to your neighbors house to see two young boys, probably around 14-15, standing in between your house and the next. One of them was wearing a hat that said "thinking cap" on it, which you thought was funny, and the other was taller and had wavy black hair. They seemed to be arguing about something

"No Dustin, Lucas said he has his championship game tomorrow and there's no way he's gonna make it to Hellfire"

"Eddie is gonna KILL us man!"

They we're talking pretty loud, and you were pretty tired and didn't want to hear their bickering while you tried to fall asleep, so you opened your window

"Hey, idiots!"

The boys shut up instantly and looked over to you

"Listen, I really don't mean to interrupt, but I don't know who you are or who this Eddie guy is, but your bickering over him is really getting in the way of my sleep and I have had a very, very, long day of unpacking"

They looked at you, wide-eyed, before the shorter boy in the hat moved closer to your window

"Oh um, sorry, our bad. And I'm Dustin by the way, I live just there," he gestured to the house next to yours, "and this is my friend Mike"

"Pleasure, I'm y/n," you didn't want to be mean to them, so you figured you'd go ahead and introduce yourself, "well I'm gonna go get that sleep I mentioned, and please just keep your voices down."

"Aye aye, captain," Dustin said with a salute before he and Mike walked away from your window towards his house.

You closed your window, took off your sweaty clothes, turned off your light, and crawled into your new bed, nervous for your first day at school tomorrow.

----

Part 2

[finnpeach]

Take Care, Part 1

Thank you to everyone who voted on my poll for who my subject for my next fic should be : ) Please enjoy this 3 part, modern AU of Patroclus and Achilles. I really hope you enjoy (and if you voted Patroclus, don’t worry, I have a fic idea for him next round). Comments or tags are always loved and appreciated hehe

Light NSFW warning (just wait for part 3 tho lol)

Greek translations are provided after they’re said. I don’t speak Greek and therefore these have all come from translation machines, but if you have any corrections please let me know! I also suggest everyone copy and paste these translations into a translation machine with pronunciations if you can (DeepL translate is great). Greek is such a beautiful language and I think it adds to the story to hear it.

Please enjoy Part 1! Part 2 Part 3

Patroclus is one of the first few students to enter Professor Chiron’s Classical Studies course. Surprisingly, he doesn’t see Achilles’ curly golden head anywhere. As Chiron’s teaching assistant, Achilles was usually one of the first students in, and always had a seat saved for Patroclus in the back.

He had only taken this class at Achilles’ behest.

Please, Patroclus, you’ll love it. And you have to fulfil your history gen ed anyway, just take it with Chiron and me and we can spend more time together. He had begged when Patroclus was about to select his classes for his final semester. They’d grown further apart as they finished up their final semesters at college, Patroclus having to devote all of his time to his intensive pre-med classes and Achilles hardly able to find time between finishing his thesis on Ancient Greek wars and track practice. Achilles must’ve seen the consideration in his eyes, because by the time Patroclus had opened his mouth to speak, he’d already taken Patroclus’ laptop from him and enrolled him in the course.

He chooses an empty seat near the back and starts unpacking his bag when his phone dings.

Achilles ☀️:

On my way, b there in 1

Patroclus smiles a little as that familiar sun emoji comes up on his screen. Achilles had put it there nearly four years ago, the day they met, and it had never changed. They were freshman year roommates and had immediately become the best of friends. Achilles had just arrived from Greece after moving all the way to America for university. It had been an amazing coincidence as Patroclus was born in Greece, but moved to America as an eight year old child when his mother required specialist treatment for her disease.

Achilles and Patroclus were practically joined at the hip from then on. Whispering inside jokes to each other in Greek when they were in public, meeting up after classes, sharing everything, hardly ever a moment apart.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t moved beyond being the best of friends, as much as Patroclus ached to make Achilles his.

He places his phone in his pocket and opens up his laptop as a muffled, wet sneeze sounds behind him, by the doors.

“Huh’GDTSHhh!” Huh. That sounds a little familiar? Whoever it is should not be out in public. It’s the middle of February, and nearly everyone at their university is sick. Maybe that’s why the class is so empty today. “Hh’GNTSH’uh!”

Someone on the opposite side of the room mumbles a bless you. He turns his attention back towards his laptop when a welcome presence drops down into the seat next to him.

Achilles.

“Hey, what took you so lo—“ Patroclus is cut off by the sight of Achilles before him.

He’s wearing a mask, his shoulder-length, curly blond hair tied back in a bun. Loose strands frame his face, his emerald green eyes oddly cloudy. Patroclus suddenly realizes where the sneezes came from.

“Είσαι καλά?” Are you okay? Patroclus feels worry grip his heart. He looks awful.

Achilles gives a small nod and sniffs. “I’mb okay. αλλεργίες.” Allergies. His voice is thick with congestion, his accent much stronger than usual.

Patroclus has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “είσαι αλλεργικός μόνο στις γάτες.” You’re only allergic to cats.

He presses his palm to Achilles’ forehead, then the back of his hand, unsurprised to feel a burning warmth. Achilles closes his eyes and leans into the cool pressure of his hand.

“You have a cold,” he says, pulling his hand away.

The part of Achilles’ face that can be seen above the mask burns red, caught. Eager to deflect, his eyes crinkle into a smile. “No. There was a cat in the hallwaayhh.. hh—“

It all seems to happen in slow motion. Patroclus watches, transfixed, as Achilles’ eyebrows pinch together, his gorgeous eyes slipping shut, the mask shifting slightly down his nose as his mouth drops open. He pitches forward, and Patroclus begins to understand how those loose strands of hair managed to escape his bun.

“H’ESSHhhuh—! Heh..! Huh’EhTSCHhh’ue!” Achilles sneezes, harsh and wet, hands steepled over his masked nose.

Patroclus tries not to stare. His breath hitches again—

“Hh’EHTZShhh’ue! Ghh.. sndf!” When Achilles pulls his hands away, the mask is absolutely drenched.

“Bless you.” He tries his best to ignore the heat pooling in his groin. He knows he’s as red as a tomato. “I-I don’t have any tissues, uh…”

“Mmn..” Achilles rubs his eyes, wincing against the harsh light of the auditorium. He paws at his nose and it makes a wet squelching sound. The poor boy looks absolutely miserable.

As much as Patroclus wants to stare, his caretaking instincts kick in, and he can’t stand to see Achilles like this anymore. He rises, tossing his laptop into his backpack with little care, throwing it around his shoulders and taking Achilles’ backpack around his arm.

Achilles stares in confusion as Patroclus offers him his hand, nose scrunching beneath his mask.

“σε παω σπιτι.” I’m taking you home. Patroclus speaks softly, but with a gentle finality that makes Achilles give in, take Patroclus’ hand, and follow him out of the auditorium. He must be feeling terrible to have bent to Patroclus’ will that easily.

Patroclus wants to fuss, wants to ask him what he was thinking to be so foolish as to come to class, but he already knows the answer. He came to see Patroclus. They get so little time together now, that Achilles came to see him without a second thought.

Still, he wishes Achilles hadn’t come today. He wishes he had stayed in bed and just texted Patroclus to come over and take care of him. Achilles doesn’t get sick often, but when he does, it’s often much worse than any average cold. The last time he was sick, his cold had turned into pneumonia and Patroclus had to take him to the hospital. He’s not taking any chances now.

Achilles coughs behind him, holding Patroclus’ hand as though it’s his anchor. It’s unsettling seeing Achilles so weak, so reliant on Patroclus for once.

He hooks his finger around Achilles’ mask and tugs it off his face as soon as they’re outside. His nose is bright red, rubbed raw from tissues, and he takes a grateful breath of fresh air as soon as the wet mask is removed from his face.

It’s then that Patroclus notices that Achilles isn’t even wearing a proper coat, just a light sweater. Achilles has always run warm, but the way his shoulders hunch in as the wind hits them tells Patroclus enough.

“Achilles,” Patroclus sighs. What is he going to do with him? He takes off the backpacks and shrugs off his thick jacket, then his hoodie, helping Achilles into both. Even though Patroclus is a few inches taller, Achilles is more muscled than he, so he fits into his clothes quite well. He’s left in only a long sleeve shirt, but the look of warmth and satisfaction on Achilles’ face is enough to make it worth it ten times over. He quite literally looks like the cat who got the cream.

“I don’t want you to get sick either. Δεν θα κρυώσεις?” Won’t you catch a cold? He asks, but he’s already snuggling into the folds of Patroclus’ clothes.

Patroclus smiles and shakes his head. I don’t want you to get sick either. Achilles is so cute. He can’t even keep up a lie that he feels unwell.

Patroclus picks up the backpacks and takes his hand again, leading him through the campus and towards the nearest parking lot. “C’mon, my car is back here.”

They walk for a few minutes, Achilles snuffling as they go. He should not have left bed today, he knows how sick he gets. Patroclus has to practically hold him upright when he stops to sneeze. 

“H’ETSSshh’ue! Hih… H’uhSshhh’ue! Sndff! Ugh, ο λαιμός μου πονάει από το πολύ φτέρνισμα.” My throat hurts from sneezing too much.

Patroclus feels each sneeze spray his arm through the fabric, desperately ignoring the shiver that runs down his spine with each wet sniffle. His gray sleeve has become spotted with droplets of mess.

“This way.” Patroclus’ tongue feels thick, useless in his mouth. He leads Achilles through the parking garage, holding him upright as they wait in the elevator, before they reach his old truck.

It’s a shitty car, that much is obvious. It’s got more rust than paint, several dents on the bumper, and it only runs when it wants to. His father refused to help Patroclus pay for anything, and he could only afford $500 for this hunk of metal.

Achilles always offers to buy him a new car. His family is loaded, practically royalty in Greece, but Patroclus always refuses. It is the principle of the matter. And he doesn’t need a new car yet anyway, not until this one dies.

He opens the passenger door for Achilles and places the backpacks at his feet before getting in on the driver’s side. The truck is so old that there’s no console separating the seats, so there’s technically three seats up front.

He buckles in and switches the ignition on, has a slight moment of panic when the engine rolls over before bursting to life. Then they’re off, one hand on the stick shift and one on the wheel.

“I always forget that this is a manual. You should let me buy you a new one,” Achilles murmurs, rubbing at his nose again.  “Can I lay down?”

“Uh, yeah? But I don’t know how you’d—“

Suddenly there’s a heavy weight on his lap. Oh no.

“Achilles, I don’t know if this is very safe—“

“Είναι μια χαρά.” It’s fine. His voice is groggy, accent thick and somehow even more sexy. He scrunches up his nose again, itching it against Patroclus’ thigh.

Patroclus wants to scream. They’re still a good fifteen minutes away from Achilles’ apartment. He doesn’t think he’ll survive that long.

He takes a deep breath, imagining anything but Achilles’ beautiful, feverish face in his lap right now. Car crashes. Houses burning down. Deforestation. Getting audited by the IRS—

He looks down at just the wrong time, sees Achilles’ golden eyelashes flutter shut, his pink peony lips drawing back to reveal sharp white canines, breath hitching, hitching, hitching—

“Hh’EYSSHHhh’ue! Haah… h’ETSsChhh!!… h’uh—! H’EIYSSHhh’ue!!” Achilles turns his face inwards and sneezes wetly against Patroclus’ cock, his body jerking against him, freckled nose streaming. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel as he bites the tip of his tongue so hard he tastes blood. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know how they don’t crash in that instant.

Achilles isn’t done. He makes a small whine, desperate for relief. God, his nose must be so itchy, poor baby. Patroclus can feel his cock throbbing through his jeans.

Achilles itches his perfect nose against his jeans again, caught in a sneezy limbo. His breath hitches. Patroclus can barely keep his eyes on the road.

He wraps his muscled arm around Patroclus’ lower back, nearly falling off the seat, his nose running. The next four come breathlessly, catching in Achilles’ chest, spraying across Patroclus’ lap.

“Hih’YSSHhh’ue! Hih’ih— Eh-ZSHh’TSZhh! Hh.. Eh’ISHhhhhh’ue!”

Fuck, they’re so desperate and wet. His pants are drenched from the warm spray, his cock pulsing. Achilles doesn’t seem to notice anything is amiss. He sniffles sweetly afterwards and rubs his nose on his hoodie sleeve — Patroclus’ sleeve — as if he didn’t just do the hottest thing he could’ve ever done.

Patroclus knows he’s harder than he’s ever been in his entire life, harder than the time that he’d accidentally walked in on Achilles showering and saw full frontal. There is no way Achilles doesn’t notice. How does he not notice? He definitely notices. What if he notices and doesn’t want to be friends anymore? What if—

Achilles cocks an eyebrow at him curiously, then raises a hand to tap Patroclus on the temple.

“Patroclus. I can hear you thinking.”

The touch brings him back to reality. He looks down at Achilles, who smiles softly up at him. His face has a feverish blush that creates a pink hue across his cheeks and nose, his fiery golden hair nearly completely free of the bun and falling across Patroclus’ lap. His heartbeat slows down. How does he look so beautiful even when he’s sick? He looks like an angel.

“Sorry. Bless you,” he manages to strangle out, finally, wishing he’d either die or wake up from this embarrassing, sexy nightmare.

“ευχαριστώ, Patroclus.” Thank you, Patroclus. And god, now Achilles is saying his name, in that perfect Greek lilt that few other than Achilles have been able to pronounce properly. Pa-tro-clus.

He wants to touch him, run his fingers through his hair, kiss his entire body until he knows every inch of it. He wants Achilles to take him in his mouth and sneeze against his crotch without the protection of his jeans. He wants to fuck him, make his breath hitch again but in a different way, take care of him…

Patroclus nearly cries out with joy when they finally reach Achilles’ apartment. He helps Achilles sit up and gets out, slamming his car door a little too hard. Fuck. Fuck fucking fuck.

He grabs their backpacks on the opposite side, using one to cover his front and the obvious hard-on he has, and makes sure to stay behind Achilles as he follows him up the stairs.

[metallicaislife]

Daydream Pt 3

A/N: This is the third, and final installment of Daydream❤️ -p.s. sorry it is story heavy and light dialogue. p.p.s. I cried writing this lol

Requested by: Anon

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 759

Warnings: All the feels

Daydream Daydream Pt 2

The first time I invited Y/N over to hang out with me and the guys, she panicked. She thought Kirk and Lars would be angry at her. I hadn’t told them I ran into her, I wanted to surprise them as I had been with our chance encounter. I reassured her they would not be. I knew they had missed her a lot, not quite as much as I had though. 

When she showed up, the look on their faces was priceless.

“Are you fucking real?” Kirk asked, “like are you who I think you are?” He questioned excitedly. Her laugh was heavenly. Kirk hugged her tightly.

“What are you talking abo-“ Lars started as he walked into the room before his eyes landed on her. “Y/N!” He exclaimed and hugged her. 

We cried together, and laughed, lots of laughter. We almost felt whole again. 

After that night I found any and every excuse I could to see her nearly every day. Whether we went out and did something or stayed in and watched tv. Days we couldn’t see each other we’d call and talk about everything and nothing. 

I finally told her about my crush, that I developed feelings for her shortly after we met. Cliff had started bringing her around. I was having a tough time and she took the time to listen to me. She is such a genuine and caring person I couldn’t help but fall for her. 

Months after that, she was curled up with me on the couch. My arm around her, my fingers dragging up and down her side softly as we watched a movie. I felt her gaze on me, so I turned my head, our eyes met and she had the most precious expression on her face. 

“I like you, James.” She said sweetly. My heart swelled, my lips stretched into a wide smile as she leaned up to kiss me. I’ve kissed many girls, and this simple sweet kiss has to be the best one I’ve ever had. 

The first tour I had after we started dating was hard. She couldn’t get away from work, and I understood. We talked every night. She surprised me half way through the tour by flying out for a couple nights. 

As we laid in each other’s arms, I asked her to move in with me. She happily agreed. 

“Are you sure? I’m not rushing you, or us am I?” I asked for the millionth time. 

“James, if I wasn’t ready I wouldn’t have agreed.” She scolded as she brought another box in from my truck. She paused, “unless you’re having second thoughts, then it’s too late to go back to my apartment but I can find another.” She rushed out her eyes wide. 

“No, no. I���m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think that.” I said taking the box from her and setting it down. I wrapped my arms around her waist, her hands rested on my chest. “I’m more than ready, I just want to make sure you are too.” I told her softly. She smiled up at me. 

“I appreciate that. I am ready, if there was anything I wasn’t ready for, I’d have said something.” She reassured me. I smiled at her and kissed her forehead. 

We finished bringing her things in. She unpacked a little but decided she would tackle that a bit more tomorrow.

I sat on the couch with a beer. 

“Look at this.” She said, sitting next to me handing me a picture. “This was the day we met.” 

I studied the photo. She was on a couch sandwiched between Cliff and I. We were having a party the first time Cliff brought her around, and Kirk was snapping pictures. 

“I miss him.” I said, my throat closing in. 

“I miss him too.” Her voice was as wobbly as mine. 

“Let’s buy a frame for this and we’ll put it up.” I offered. 

“I’d like that a lot.” She replied, she got up to put the photo away and returned to my side. 

She weasled  her way under my arm. I chuckled holding her close.

“I love you.” She whispered softly into my chest.

 “I love you.” I told her and kissed the top of her head. 

When I met her all those years ago, I could’ve never imagined we’d end up here. Not only was she my best friend, she was the love of my life. I look forward to the many years we’ll share, and the memories we will make.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[danses-with-dogmeat]

I just have to ask you for a few characters 👉👈 Porter Gage, Hancock, Raul, Charon and Gob ack don't call me out for my ghoul loving ass just getting showered in praise. I just feel the ghouls don't GET enough lovin', they are all wonderful, handsome and great men.

Porter Gage is the odd one out because I just love that raider man and been playing Nuka World recently-

Select FO Companions React to Sole/Lone/Six Giving them Praise

I'm back!! Oof, so I've officially finished moving and unpacking and all that junk, and I'm ready to get back to the important things lol. Alrighty, so just an update, I've decided to just get back to regular posting. I only had a few more for the 1k event to do, but I knew it would take another few days to get to if they were going to be any good 😅 So, I apologize if I didn't get to yours, but I'm SO thankful for all of you who participated, it was such a blast, and I hope to do more events like it in the future 😊

Anyways, now, let's get back to it! (Also, just one more reminder that requests are closed for the time being so I can catch up on the ones I have now, but I will let you know when they open back up!)

ALRIGHT, so now to the actual post. This is so sweet, omg! 😩 These guys all really do deserve more loving, like... Always. As usual, let me know if you wanna see anyone else for this at all! Cuz goodness knows there are plenty of Fallout folks that deserve to hear a compliment or two much more often.

Included Below: Charon, Gage, Gob, Hancock, Joshua, & Raul

Also, just a heads up, this isn't explicit, per say, but it does get kinda steamy in some places, so just a little NSFW warning for ya. 😉

I hope you enjoy!

Charon:

“Oh my god.” Lone’s mouth hung open as Charon stepped down the stairs and towards the living room. 

“What?” He paused his movement, brow scrunching more than usual as he looked down over himself to see if anything was amiss.

They only shook their head at first, finally managing to close their mouth to gulp before they began to answer him verbally. 

“Look, I know you just, like, just put on the armor and everything, but Charon, I think… I think you’re gonna have to take it off.” 

Lone’s eyes drifted hungirly over the ghoul’s large frame, the way the dark, freshly polished leather clung to his muscular form forcing a blushing heat to flush over their face. 

He only scoffed at them, continuing his descent into the room to drop his bag by the door. Lone stood up abruptly from their place on the couch and turned to face their partner with a hard expression on their face. 

“What? I’m not allowed to be attracted to my boyfriend?” Their hands came to their hips as their voice took on a distinct hardness that he was always trying to avoid. 

That’s never a good sign. Charon thought with a frown. 

“No need to act for my benefit.” He grumbled, “I’ve seen myself, Lone.” 

He tried not to notice the way his partner flinched at his words. 

They can’t be serious, what delusions do they think I’m under?

“Clearly not the way I have, then.” They said firmly as they took a step closer. Charon stood his ground as Lone approached him with slow intent, something unknown to him written in their expression. 

“Forget what I said,” they continued, “No need to take off your armor.” He set his jaw as they gazed up at him, their hands brushing up over the leather on his chest until their fingertips grazed the skin of his neck. 

“I’ll just do it for you.” They began to work at the fastenings of his armor, the metal buckles glinting in the low light that streamed through the meager windows of their Megaton house. 

“Lone…” 

“I want to show you. If you won’t listen to what I say, maybe what I do will have some influence on you.” Charon made no move to assist them as they began to pull the leather cuirass over his head, undoing the laces at his sides before reaching up as far as their arms would take them, the collar of the armor failing to come any further up than his jawline as they strained on their tiptoes. The ghoul sighed, ducking down to allow them to finally wrench the leather free of his bulky frame. 

They set the piece on the couch with a huff, and despite his reservations, Charon took a few steps closer to them, his icy stare boring into his partner as they turned and knelt alluringly before him, their hands grazing up over his thighs as they moved to his center. 

“Do you want this?” Lone brought their gaze up to him, fixing their partner with hooded eyes darkened with their lust for him, as their fingers rested delicately over his leather codpiece. Charon hardly had to think before responding hastily.

“Yes." He growled, "Show me.” 

A relieved smile touched their lips, and they quickly turned their attention back to their work below his waist. 

The ghoul's chest shuddered with anticipation as he felt the pressure release around his hips, fighting to hold back a groan as Lone meticulously removed each piece of polished leather he’d fastened onto himself not half an hour ago. When he was freed of his armor fully, standing before his partner in loose-fitting trousers and a black crew neck, Lone looked him over quickly from head to toe before descending upon him, delicate fingers moving hastily to pull his shirt from his sculpted torso. 

This time, Charon did assist, lifting his arms and practically ripping the thing at the seams as he brought it over his head. Despite both of their haste, once he was free of the shirt, Lone paused, the palms of their hands warm against his chest where they rested with their fingers splayed, grasping slightly at the taut skin there. Their hands rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing, noticeably faster than usual, as his anticipation grew. 

“You’re so handsome…” They let slip. It wasn’t more than a whisper, and Charon wasn’t sure whether they’d meant to say it aloud at all, but it escaped them nonetheless, as their transfixed stare grazed over his semi-bare form. 

Whether they meant to voice the compliment or not, their words took Charon out of the moment, his smoky gaze sharpening within the confines of his narrowed eyes. He even let out another snort of disbelief that managed to catch Lone’s attention and draw their gaze to meet his own.

“Sorry, I just… I do mean it though. Not everyone may feel similarly, including yourself, and I don’t know that I can ever really change that, but Charon… I see you that way. The way you can’t seem to.”

Lone’s voice became desperate as their gaze fell to capture the movement of their fingers fidgeting over his skin, the digits absent-mindedly tracing over the rough grooves upon his ravaged chest with absolute care.

“It’s no lie, either." They whispered, "Not me trying to convince you otherwise, or make you feel better– well, if it makes you feel good, that’s good, and I want that, but that’s not the only thing I’m trying to do by saying– or, by complimenting you, I want you to–”

“Lone.”

One of Charon’s large hands closed around his partner’s shoulder, forcing their restless hands to cease their frenzied rubbing over him, and silencing Lone’s fragmented explanations. 

Their eyes met his once more, glistening orbs of earnestness and desperation against cold, dark windows reflecting back their own form of desperation in turn. 

Enough. He meant to say, but the vault dweller’s stubbornness in this matter left him no room to voice his concerns with their speech. 

“Charon.” They said firmly, “Please don’t. Don’t shut out what I’m telling you. Even if you can never believe what I say for yourself, know that I believe it. I’m mad for you. All of you.” 

Their voice lowered an octave at their final confession, and Lone surged forward, their hands grasping forcefully at his shoulders, and pulling his lips to theirs as they tasted him in earnest. Charon meant to say their name again, but all that escaped him was a groan as they crashed against him, the firmness of their insistent pressure a stark contrast from the pillowy softness of their lips.

They pulled away breathlessly before quickly moving their lips lower, the smooth petals of their mouth tickling against the sensitive skin of his neck, his collarbone, and chest. 

“I’m mad for this.” They growled between fevered pecks, “And this, and here. All of it.”

Like the volts of a live wire, violent shudders shocked the ghoul’s spine as Lone’s lips and tongue delved lower, hastily passing over his ribcage, their nose tracing a teasing line down his center as they knelt down and settled their attentions just at his naval, hungry fingers finally releasing the pressure exerted on him by his own damned zipper, and the painfully tight fabric of his briefs.  

“I’ll show you, my love. I’ll convince you to see yourself like I do. Whatever it takes.” They promised, and Charon’s neck arched as his head hung back in sheer bliss at their next heated action. 

“Show me.” He groaned.

Gage:

“Will you cut that shit out? S’not funny, boss.”

“No, Gage. I really do. I know it’s not funny, I’m not fucking joking." Their eyes bore into his as they tilted their head towards him, their voice as desperate as it was irate, "I honestly don’t care about that patch, or how old you are, how bad you think you are, any of it. You’re good for me. You’re incredible. You're strong, and dependable, you make me smile and laugh, and–” 

“Yeah, alright, I think you’ve had enough of that.” 

One rough hand reached out to grab at the bottle in Sole’s hand, but they snatched it away before he could pull it from their grasp.

“Quit it, Gage! I’m your Overboss, and that’s an order. Now let me finish.”

Gage huffed and rolled his good eye, folding his arms over themselves gruffly as he leaned back against the worn couch cushions. Sole only shook their head, setting their bottle down on the side table and scooting closer to the raider. They placed a hand on his thigh and fixed him with an uncanny sort of look, depleted of their frustration with him, and full of something else entirely. Their muted smile and the gleam in their eyes made for an expression he’d only ever seen reserved for family members, for the closest of friends, or for… for lovers. His own eye narrowed suspiciously. 

I know we’re together ‘n all, but… When has anyone looked at me that way before?

Whatever, must be whatever’s in that drink of theirs. 

“Well, get on with it then, since you made such a fuckin’ fuss.” He growled. Sole only broadened their smile softly, their one hand increasing its pressure on his leg as they scooched even closer to him. Gage felt the heat of their body through the thin fabric of his trousers and wife-beater as they pressed closer to him, their free hand sliding up the swell of his chest to rest heavily on his shoulder as their lips met his in a brief kiss. 

Gage only had an instant to close his eye, to savor them, before they withdrew, just far enough that the pair's contact was severed, but close enough still, that he could make out the distinct and enticing glisten of their lips.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” 

“What’s that?” He breathed. 

“How much I care about you. How good you are for me. How attractive I find you. Even when I try to tell you.” 

Sole’s hand moved downward to brush over his chest, feeling the play of muscle beneath his thin shirt as he threw his head back in a barely contained scoff. 

“Yeah, alright there, Sole. Look, don’t feel like you’ve gotta say all this shit for my benefit. I’m a damn raider, I don’t need t’hear all that flowery, romantic sorta bullshit. I’m a sure thing, boss. I’m easy.” 

As if to emphasize his point, one hand moved lower to grasp around the swell of Sole's hip firmly, pulling them closer, even as their expression hardened.

“You shouldn’t be.” They said firmly, their hand stilling over him. 

Gage’s brow creased low over his eye as Sole pulled away from him roughly. 

“You deserve a lot more than you give yourself credit for," they continued, "I don’t care what you think. You gave me a chance when no one else would. You've always got my back, you support me like nobody else has, and dammit, you deserve that same kind of dedication, Gage.” 

His eye widened at their words, and the raider found himself at a loss for any kind of response. 

I’m really not used to this kinda shit. What am I supposed to say to that? 

Sole sighed at him, a sad smile touching their lips as they hesitantly reached both hands up to his face. Gage had to stop himself from flinching at their tender touch, but they held fast, palms warm against his cheeks as their eyes pleaded with him to just fucking believe what they told him.

Gage swallowed.

Slowly, their hands moved, and their fingers worked their way to the metal secured to his head, fidgeting with the fastenings there until he felt the entire piece loosen and give way. 

“Sole, I don’t think–” He tried, but they silenced him with a look and a whisper. 

“It’s okay. I want to see you.” 

Gage took in a breath. 

No. You don’t.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” 

He shook his head slightly, and Sole finally pulled the patch from his skin, and set it on the couch beside them. Gage’s jaw clenched as he flinched away, and his gaze flitted to everywhere but Sole, unnervingly afraid to see the repulsion on their face.

He felt their hands on him again, the soft skin caressing his cheeks, and he fought the urge to pull away as his heart increased its thumping in his chest. Gage closed his good eye, trying to turn his marred face away from his partner’s scrutinizing gaze, but their hands held his head firmly in place. 

A brief moment of silence passed before Gage found himself jerking away involuntarily as the feeling of Sole’s… lips? He guessed, ghosted over the scarred flesh of his newly uncovered cheekbone. 

“I meant what I said.” Their warm breath caressed his face as they spoke. “It’s not bullshit, and it’s not a lie.” 

He released a sigh as he opened his good eye once again, the resistance and disbelief effectively gone from his exposed expression, if only just for this moment. 

“I really do, Gage. I love you. And I love all of you.”

Gob:

“What do you mean?” 

Gob paused, Lone’s voice clearly meeting his ears as he stepped outside the back door of Moriarty’s Saloon with two heavy trash bags in hand. 

“Look hon, I’m not trying to be rude or anything, I’m just curious, that’s all.” The scent of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume drifted through the ghoul’s meager nose, even from where he stood behind the building, he knew it was Nova that Lone was speaking with.

Something in his head told him he should go out to greet them, but a gut feeling held him back, keeping him in place as he slowly set down the garbage bags and continued to listen in. 

“It’s just that, well, Gob an’ me have been real close for a long time,” Nova’s silky voice continued, “An’ I’ve met lotsa folks you couldn't believe. Look at him like he’s some kinda novelty or somethin’, like the scumbags who look at me like a juicy slice of brahmin. I just wanna be sure you ain’t one of ‘em.” 

The ghoul’s eyes widened as he listened in, his grip tightening on the metal jutting from the side of the building as he awaited Lone’s response. 

Do I even really wanna hear it? A small voice asked in the back of his mind, but he pushed it away, instead leaning forward to hear what his partner had to say. 

“You really think I could be like that?” Panic tightened their voice as it left their throat, less accusatory, and more fraught with worry than he would’ve expected. “Gob doesn’t think that way, does he?” 

“No.” He whispered, shaking his head despite the fact that he was as good as alone on this side of the saloon. 

“Nah, I don’t think so. Gob would never see the bad in you. That’s what he’s gotta have me for. Too many people try to take advantage of the poor guy. Like he hasn’t been through enough.”  

He smiled sadly at that, silently thanking whoever it was in charge of his fate that he met Nova. Without her, well… Moriarty’s would’ve been all the more unbearable. He's not sure he would've made it this far without her, and now, if he didn't have Lone, if he somehow lost them...

Don't wanna even think about that. Maybe I should stop listenin' in, in case... What if they--

“I know.” Lone said, almost too quiet for him to hear, but loud enough to pull him from his troubling thoughts, “It’s true. Everything Gob’s been through… That’s one of the things that drew me to him from the start. All that Moriarty’s done to be cruel, to make his life hell, and he’s still so kind, so sweet and genuine.” 

“Hm.” He heard his friend hum with approval at Lone’s declaration, and something tightened deep in Gob’s chest. 

He held his breath as his partner's voice carried on.

“And so incredibly strong, to persevere through all of this, all that he’s been through for his long life, with Underworld, leaving it all behind and then coming to this, only to end up here. Still, selfish as it is, I'm glad he is here now. If I hadn't met him, I don't..."

Gob heard them chuckle, more a nervous sound then an amused one.

"I really don't want to think what it'd be like if I didn't have him, y'know? He really is incredible. One-of-a-kind out here, and in the vault. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“You’re smiling real big when you talk about him, you know that?” 

Gob grinned himself as he heard Lone’s giggle echo down into the town, the lovely sound fading with a sigh from them and a moment of silence that had Gob leaning in even further, very nearly exposing his hiding spot to the pair as his anticipation grew. 

“... Well, what can I say? I love him.” 

Gob's breath caught in his throat, and he tried desperately to keep from choking as his grip on the side of the building tightened painfully, his bony fingers digging into the metal with such force, he was liable to bend it.

Nova whistled long and low at that, the butt of her cigarette flying off the balcony as she turned to face Lone, and Gob shifted hastily back against the building once more, hoping he was still concealed. 

“That’s quite the declaration there, hon. You tell him that?” 

“Well, no, not quite… But I plan to, and soon, I think.”

“Hm. Just be careful. Dangerous thing to tell a man.” The door to the saloon creaked open as the sound of Nova’s voice shifted, “Though actually, since it’s Gob, I take it back. Lord knows he needs to hear that more than most. And from you? Poor guy won’t know what to do with himself.” 

Lone laughed again, more genuine this time, less embarrassed, and Gob’s heart thudded hard against his ribcage, a feeling of chills erupting over his ruined skin as he tried in vain to keep his labored breathing quiet. 

The door to the bar slammed to a close, jolting the wall Gob was still leaning against.

But he hardly even felt it. 

They love me? Love?! H-how.. How can they? Why? 

How could he possibly pretend he didn’t know what they’d said when he saw them next? Even now, he found it impossible to contain himself, his entire body vibrating with a giddy energy he didn’t even know he was capable of possessing. 

Lone loves me.

Gob stood shakily from where he was kneeling beside the saloon, his mind going into overdrive as he realized Nova, and soon enough, Lone, would notice his absence in the bar. He turned back to the garbage bags, reaching for one as he took a step forward, but his foot caught on the first step up to the back door, and he fell forward, cringing less at the pain and more at the loud clang that rang out over the town as the better part of his body crashed into the metal building. 

“Aw, dammit.” He grumbled, glancing over his shoulder rapidly in search of Lone. 

The ghoul held still a moment, sighing in relief when he didn’t hear a sound beyond his own breathing. He stood up and brushed himself off brusquely. 

Still need to get in there quick.

“Gob? What are you– Oh, are you okay?” 

The ghoul’s blood ran cold.

“F-fine, Lone, I just– um…” He stuttered out as he turned to face them with a nervous smile.

Dammit, I was right. 

The ghoul’s mouth refused to cooperate as his thoughts scattered in every direction at the sight of his partner. 

Of the one who loved him. 

He gulped.

“You didn’t hit your head, did you?” They asked, reaching a hand out as if to brush it over his head, but he shook his head firmly, stalling their movement. 

“You look so… So red… Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He nodded to them, willing his body to cool down, willing his tongue to untangle, willing himself to meet their eyes, but he simply couldn’t. 

“A-are you blushing? Sweetie, I didn’t know you could blush. What’s going on?”

Finally their hand met his face, and the world seemed to quit its confusing spinning, his heart stilled its frantic pounding, and he could finally meet their concerned gaze. His eyes were apologetic as he looked at them, swallowing hard as a few fragmented words began to creep into his mind.

“O-oh. Oh no.” Lone’s eyes widened, and Gob didn’t have to say a word. “No, you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t… You heard it?! How much did you hear?” 

They pulled their hand away from him, their voice desperate and loud as they questioned him with panic etched all over their face.

Gob tried to stay calm, his skin feeling warmer than coals as the words of explanation formed on his tongue. 

What if that does it? What if this is it? What if I just ruined this?  

“Not, well, I don’t think, I just–” He stuttered out awkwardly, willing his voice not to crack with the fear he felt bubbling up in his chest, “Well, I don’t think that I heard all of it, but… Yeah, I did, ah, I heard that last part.” Gob’s head hung low at the end of his confession, as he saw the disappointment in Lone’s eyes. 

Had they ever really planned on telling me? Were they just saying that to Nova, to make her feel better? Did they really even mean it?

“I’m so sorry, Lone.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” They told him gently, and he raised his eyes hesitantly to meet theirs. 

“I just… I wish I could’ve told you in a different way. Made it really special.”

“It was. Lone, honey, it was special.” He said quickly, both of his hands reaching out to grasp one of Lone’s, before he even realized he was doing it.

“It means the world to me. Nobody’s ever- I mean, I haven’t ever- I just…” Their eyes shone as they waited for him to finish, and Gob took a deep breath.

“Lone,” He whispered, “I feel the same way.”

Hancock:

“Your eyes, John…” 

“Hm?” 

“Your eyes… They are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Hancock smiled as his partner looked on, reverent in the haze of the Day Tripper they’d taken. They leaned forward from where they were seated, practically in his lap, with one hand against his chest, and fixed him with their appreciative, half-lidded gaze. 

“My eyes are black, Sunshine.” He pecked their nose with his meager lips, taking full advantage of their close proximity to him. “And not kill the vibe or anything, but I think you’ve had enough of these for today.” His hand gently pulled the Day Tripper bottle away from their grasp, but his partner hardly seemed to notice. 

“They are not ‘black’ in that dismissive way you just said they are." They pouted, "Your eyes… They don’t have color, really, but they have depth. Texture.”

“Uh huh.” Hancock tried to withhold the broad, toothy grin that threatened to spread across his lips as Sole looked at him in complete seriousness. 

Damn, they’re cute. 

He raised a hand to the side of their face, caressing it lovingly as one thumb stroked over the soft swell of their cheek.

But should I really have let them take two of those pills? Hm. 

“They’re like space." Sole continued, one hand waving dramatically towards the sky at their declaration.

"Like galaxies and nebulae and a trillion twinkling stars. All wrapped up in a velvety, dark blanket. Not black, but like an inky fabric draping over itself, light catching at each fold, every angle. Full of life, and light, and emotion, and truth.”

“Sunshine, I don’t think–” 

“Shhh.” They brought a finger to his ruined lips, nose nearly grazing the crevice where his once was as they leaned forward with a whisper. “Don’t interrupt, love.” Their lips followed the lead of their finger, brushing his in a light kiss before they pulled back again. 

“I’m not nearly finished.”

Hancock’s apparently mesmerizing eyes widened as they fixed him with a scrutinizing gaze, blown-out pupils sliding their hazy vision over every line of his face, every wrinkle and fold, each scar, and all the complexities of his multi-colored complexion.

Though, as Hancock was much unused to, there was no judgment in their scrutiny. No disgust, no flinching or cringing, not even some morbid kinda curiosity he tended to see in some.

His face couldn’t be chalked up to mere flesh and blood in their eyes. They didn’t see the lines as he did. It was less of a physical entity, and more a mosaic of his person. His character.

In everything, Sole saw the way he had smiled all his life, the way he had frowned, all the speeches he’s given, the manner in which he once combed his hair, and in the way he moved differently once it was all gone.

Sole saw his childhood, the closeness with his family, and then the heart-wrenching pain as they were pulled away from him and made estranged. They could see the years of relentless abuse he’d wrought upon himself, before becoming who he was today. In the emotion written in his scars, they could see his failures, and in the glimmer of his eyes, his successes, and they told him as much.

All of it they said, not with so many words, as they formed and flitted away before their lips had a chance to speak them, but they spoke with their eyes, with their own emotion Hancock couldn’t help but read too deeply into. The intensity of it all forced his hand, inspired his mind to draw connections from nearly nothing at all. The dense subtleties and micro expressions any sane person may have failed to read into, but Hancock wasn’t sane.

He was in love.

And they were too. Of that, the ghoul had no doubt at all. He wasn’t even sure if he’d known that before this very moment. Sole had told him before, sure, but never like this. Saying everything without a voice to back it. The most honest of confessions, and he couldn’t help but confess right back. 

“Damn, Sole…” He breathed over them, inspiring a blink of those brilliant eyes that broke the tension that had grown between them. “I’m so in love with you.” 

To his surprise, his partner looked at him with a flash of disappointment. 

“What is it, baby?” 

“I haven’t even said anything yet. That was supposed to wait for the end.” They pouted rather dramatically. 

“Aww, you didn’t hear all that? Everythin’ you just said? I heard it, loud and clear. No worries there. And no words needed, sunshine, trust me.” 

“Hm.” They pursed their lips, unconvinced. “I think I’ve still gotta tell you anyways.” 

“Sweetheat, there’s nothin’ I’d love more than to listen to your pretty voice sing praises to me all night long, but all that talk just about my eyes? I don’t think you’ll finish before the sun comes up.” 

“If that’s how long it takes for you to quit making all those comments about your ‘ugly mug’ and ‘boring, black’ eyes, then so be it. We’ll be here all night, and into the next day, and all the night after. I’ll keep telling you next week, next month, years from now, when I’m old and wrinkled and a new civilization has risen from the ashes of this ruined world of ours, for this whole lifetime and any others that come along, I'll keep insisting, I’ll keep talking, and kissing, and touching, and loving you until you believe every word with every part of you. And I fucking mean it John Hancock, you know I do.” 

Most of this talk was definitely the Day Tripper. Had to be. At least a little bit. Sole didn’t talk like this, didn’t make big confessions like this, didn’t command him to take their praise so adamantly, but still... every word rang true in their glazed-over eyes.

Whether they were foggy from the drug, or from their affection for him, Hancock didn’t completely know, but he did know that the words people spoke on Day Tripper tended to be true. It was one of the main reasons the drug was dangerous. It helps limit your inhibitions, makes confessions come easy, lessens your anxiety, makes the world seem more open and accepting to whatever strange, deep-rooted, or wholly secret confession your heart and mind held onto far away from the liberating threshold of your mouth. It’s why Hancock doesn’t usually do this one with friends, with people he doesn’t want to lose, with people he’s afraid to trust to stay in his life if they knew all the secrets of his past. He’d told Sole all of this, the dangers of these little pills, and yet, they’d still wanted to try it with him by their side. 

“I do.” He rasped, the words making him shudder as he thought of what they might sound like in some other context, some other promise, down the line of his and Sole’s journey together. 

If I should be so lucky they’d say yes to a promise like that. To a man like me gettin’ down on one knee and making a commitment more serious and binding than being Mayor of Goodneighbor. 

Shit, and I would mean it just as much with them as I did with this town of mine. More so, even.

“I know you mean it, Sole. And I’m gonna really hold you to it one of these days.” He hinted with a half smile as he pressed his lips to their cheek and wrapped an arm around their shoulders tightly, until they yielded in their gathering exhaustion, falling back to rest against him, and sighing softly with sheer contentment. 

“You’d better." They grumbled, "I’ll be waiting with bated breath.” 

“Don’t you worry. You ain’t gonna have to wait too much longer.” They leaned their head against his shoulder, nuzzling into him a few times to get comfortable, and Hancock leaned back, his head resting against theirs as he took their hands in his, his midnight eyes falling to their left hand in particular as his fingers grazed over theirs in a delicate caress, and he daydreamed about the future he'd promised, and they'd promised him.

No. Not much longer at all…

Joshua:

“Joshua?” Your voice carried smoothly over the sand, through the hot, dry air. But Joshua didn’t stir, he didn’t even seem to register his name. 

“You okay?” You pressed forward, craning your neck as you took a couple steps in his direction, trying to see what it was in the creek that had caught his attention so fully. 

“Did you… find something?” You bent down as you reached Joshua’s side, noting the way his unblinking eyes seemed glued to… nothing. Nothing, but his own reflection, staring back with the same intensity. 

The sand shifted beneath you as you settled by Joshua’s side. He noticed you, out of the corner of his eye, but remained silent. 

What could he say? 

How could he speak all that he was thinking, as he peered down at his scarred and bandaged face? Could he voice the way that he feels? So unworthy of your devotion to him, so confused as to why you stay by his side, so appreciative that you care for him the way you do, but so wholly afraid that if he speaks his fears, that they will come true. That, as soon as you come to your senses, as soon as the novelty of being with him fades, you will leave…

Who could love a face like mine? And more… Who could love the man that this face belongs to? A man who has done so much wrong, that his sins could only be absolved through the most violent forms of suffering? And even still… Am I truly free of them? 

He did not feel it. 

“I... am not worthy…” The missionary began quietly, and saw your head snap towards him as the words met your ears. “I am not worthy of even the least of all the deeds of steadfast love and all the faithfulness you have shown me.”

“What?” You asked, your brows furrowing as you shifted your body to face him, rather than the stream of water below. 

“It’s a line from Genesis." He attempted to clarify, "Jacob is speaking to God, speaking to him of his own humility in response to the devotion that the Lord has shown him.”

Your brows didn’t unfurrow. 

“And that… That has to do with…?” 

“I’m not…” Joshua’s jaw clenched as his eyes finally left his own watery visage in favor of hiding behind his downed lids. 

“I’m not sure why I said it. The quote just… came over me.” He lied, knowing full-well that the words had everything to do with you. 

If I tell you that I feel unworthy of you, will that start something? Will that plant the idea in your mind that I don’t deserve you? Will you then act on that idea?

“Hey.” 

He felt your touch upon his shoulder as your voice met his ears, it was light, but unyielding as your fingers clenched at the bandages insistently. 

“You can talk to me.” You smiled as Joshua’s eyes opened and his gaze landed upon your face, and he wasn’t immune to it. Nor your words, and all that they promised. 

Love rejoices with the truth.

“I’m humbled by you, Six. Humbled by the love you show me every day, and I feel… As Jacob did with the love of God. I feel unworthy of you.”

He felt your grip tighten upon his shoulder as sadness flooded your expression. It pained him to know he was the source of the strife he saw in your eyes.

“Sometimes it’s easy to forget who I am, what I’ve done… What I look like, when I’m beside you, but then, my reflection finds me. Then as I look upon your face, as I remember your deeds and your devotion to me, your kindness to others... I cannot help but feel confused.”

“Joshua, I–” 

He continued insistently, his scarred brow hardening over the intense blue of his eyes as you saw them spark with fire from within.

“I have erred more times than I could possibly count, and yet, each is written upon me, like a shouted word, etched into my very skin for all the world to see. For all who gaze upon me to pity me and my failures, to hate my deeds and to agree that I am unworthy of compassion and repentance. That I am unworthy of happiness, and certainly, of love. They see you beside me, and they know, simply by seeing me, that I am unworthy of you.” 

Joshua’s hand traveled slowly up to grasp at yours. Your eyes were wide and glistening as he gently took hold of you, and removed your touch from him. 

The air was utterly caught in your throat as your partner released your hand from his grip and stood beside you, his gaze resting back on the reflection in the running water that marred his covered features even further with each ripple over the small, jagged river stones that weren’t yet smoothed over by the current. 

“But it seems that you’ve failed to note this. Whether by choice, or simply because you are too righteous to see such things, you’ve still stood by me, even despite all that I’ve done, and that I am... I had to be sure you know the truth, Six. So that you can make your own decision about me, about our relationship… And you can find the words and inspiration you need to leave me behind, and to move on to better things. To be with someone who deserves you.” 

And truth will set you free.

The thought sprung unbidden into Joshua's mind.

I don't feel free.

But perhaps... Perhaps, now, Six can.

Still, you sat in the sand, in shock at everything that had just left your partner, the man you love, and have loved happily for the months you’ve been together.

Where had it all come from?

One moment you’re making camp, waiting for Joshua to collect water, dusting off the fabric of your tent, laying out the bedrolls close enough to later rest in his embrace all through the night, and now he… what? Wants you to leave him?

What changed?

Joshua made a move to step away from you, to leave you kneeling there, alone, beside the river that had apparently inspired these harsh words that encouraged even harsher actions, but you would not stand for it.

You could not. 

“I won’t leave you, Joshua.” You got to your feet as he paused his steps, and he tilted his head towards you, to better hear your words. To hear the justification that he was sure would be well-meant, but ultimately, unfounded. 

“Why?” He whispered, and you got the sense that he was going to speak more, that he would continue monologuing until he convinced himself further that you do not belong with him, even when you know that, beyond all reason, you do.

“Because Joshua, because..." You took a breath as righteous words filled your mind, "'You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and… I love you.' That quote comes from the book of Isaiah. And it’s God speaking to Jacob, telling him that this is why men are worthy of him, and why, even if they’re not, they’re still deserving of unconditional love, even by one as divine and perfect as God.” 

Joshua’s eyes were the ones widening now, and his body turned so that he could face you fully once again. 

“Now, I’m not saying that I’m perfect, but… If God can stand to love you, if he can keep you here, after all you’ve been through, if he can promise you life, even after going through what should’ve meant your death tenfold, then can’t I do the same? Can’t I promise you a life with me, can’t I love and accept you for who you are, no matter what anyone else thinks?” 

Joshua’s light eyes were glistening as they fixed on the sand below him, and you couldn’t help but step forward to try and draw his attention back to you. 

I had to sit through your monologue of self-hatred. Now it’s your turn to listen to all the reasons your words were wrong.

I won’t have you tuning me out.

“After living a life so devoid of it, there’s no one I can think of who’s more worthy of love and compassion than you.” 

You placed both hands on either side of his face, gently urging his eyes to meet yours. 

“Everything you’ve done, Joshua… You’ve been made to pay for. Just as you said, it’s all written upon your body, but it’s here too.” You dragged one palm down to rest over his chest. It was warm to the touch, even through the layers of his bandages and clothes. 

“And here.” The fingers of your other hand brushed over his temple, then his forehead. 

“You’ve paid for it enough. With these horrible thoughts, these feelings of unworthiness plaguing you, every mark upon your skin, all the pain you feel every day. Trust me, my love, you've paid for it. Now… I think God and I both just want you to know peace.” 

Joshua’s hands rose to delicately collect yours, to pull them down in between your bodies. But he didn’t release them from his grasp this time, only held them there, embracing you as much as he could allow himself as his mind still swirled with turmoil. 

“But why?" He asked, "You don’t have to be with me. No one is requiring it of you; and with another, everything would be so much easier. You could be happy… Happier than I can make you.”

“Why you?” You almost laughed at him, it seemed so obvious within the confines of your own mind, the mind that was almost always occupied with thoughts of him only. “I love you, Joshua. I love how you speak to me, how you respect me and want me in your life. I love that I’m able to help you, but you… You’ve helped me more than I think you know.” 

“How?” His voice was so desperate for an answer, it was almost demanding.

“Ever since I woke up from that grave… I didn’t really have a purpose. I didn’t know who I was, didn’t have anyone in my life to turn to, I didn’t have a path... but you gave me one. With you, I could help people in ways I never imagined. You were always so sure of your own path, that it inspired me to be sure of it too. To become a part of your path.”

You could feel your hands shaking where he held them between you. Your whole body was trembling with insistence, begging him to take your words to heart.

Everything about this night that the two of you were sharing once pointed to normalcy. Making camp, divvying out duties, feeling the warmth of the fire against the cool desert air, hearing the wind sweep over the dunes of sand; it was like so many other nights spent with one another. You hadn’t expected to have this conversation, hadn’t thought you’d be fighting tooth and nail to get your partner to understand how deeply you cared for him, how much you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him, let alone ever consider it without his knowledge. But it was happening, and now this night was so much more important than all those others, because if you fail… It could be the end of all of this. This bliss that you’ve taken for granted. 

You’d survived without him for months before you ever met him, you could find happiness without Joshua, you knew that, but… With him, you didn’t have to look for happiness. With him, it surrounded you. 

“You have made my heart beat faster with a single glance of your eyes,” You said quietly, and even with the linen wraps covering Joshua's visage, you could see the way he softened at your words. “You made me love you more with every word you spoke. I can’t imagine who I’d be now without you, and I don’t want to.” 

Your hands tightened within his grasp, and you pulled his body closer to yours as your eyes stayed locked to his mesmerizing gaze.

 “Darling… in all my life, I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you. Believe me.” 

You insisted, and then you leaned forward even further, and kissed him. 

The thin linen obstructed you a bit, but it didn’t matter. You could feel the heat of him through it, sense the shape of his lips as they moved against yours, as they relented to your touch, and to your words. As he let you love him. 

Joshua’s hands released yours, allowing you to press yourself closer to him as you felt his touch upon your hip, and around the nape of your neck. In the same movement, your arms smoothed over his chest to grasp at his shoulders. He took a deep breath in through his nose, as though he’d been devoid of oxygen until you pressed yourself to him, and you felt the warm puff of air pass through his bandages and caress your face as he exhaled. Subtly, you could taste him through the barrier, the sweetness of cactus fruit, and the tartness of the healing powder he mixed into the water he drank. You sighed into him at the familiarity of it all. His touch, his taste, his burning warmth that sometimes felt unnaturally hot. Enough so, even, that it could scar you in return. 

And though it never had, Joshua hadn’t ever left any physical blemishes upon your skin from his touch, from his love of you, you were certain that you hadn’t gone completely unmarked by him. Like the words he spoke, like the thoughts and actions he inspired, like the emotions that surrounded him in your mind, his mark was within you. And all of that, all of his influence, his own love for you in return, that you felt was as permanent as any scar left upon his own skin. 

“Thank you,” You felt Joshua whisper against you as you parted, but remained pressed to one another. “Thank you, Six, for all that you have given me. I… I still do not feel worthy of it, but, I will do what I can to change that. No matter how long it takes.” 

“Mm.” You hummed, a grin touching your lips as you pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes, soaking in the simple feel of him. “And I’ll be right here. Right beside you, all the way.” 

You felt the outline of his own smile as Joshua leaned forward, and captured your lips with his once again.

Raul:

Raul ran a roughened hand over the smooth surface of the wood, a half smile plastered to his lips as he sampled his own work. He gave the record player console table a satisfied nod as he overlooked the polished wood and properly set needle. There weren’t too many records left standing after all was said and done with those bombs so long ago, but still, what he and Six could find, they could now enjoy, and quite stylishly, he’d say. 

You liked these ones, huh? He remembered his partner asking as they held up a pair of record sleeves in an old run down shop near the strip. Dean Martin and Perez Prado… Oh, Raul knew them alright. Then we’ll have to find a way to listen to it one day, won’t we? You could teach me how to mambo.

Though the thought made Raul chuckle at the time, the idea picked at his brain for days after, and this became his project. When Six told him they’d be gone for a few days, running some mission with Arcade, he’d taken that as his opportunity to finally finish it. 

A click of a door lock sounded behind him, and the ghoul turned in time to see his companion enter the room, their face lighting up, first, at the sight of him, and then that of the table and set of tools beside him.

“Hey! It’s so good to see– Oh. Oh my god. Raul, did you… Did you make this?” They stopped briefly beside him to slide a hand over his shoulder, but ultimately, passed him completely as they were taken by the sight of his handiwork. 

���Nah, boss.” He fibbed, “Some crows flew by and dropped it right out of the sky outside the casino. Think they were takin’ it to their nest.” 

Six looked back at him with scrunched brows, even as they kept one hand glued to the glossy surface of the table. 

“But the birds never came back for it. So, I figured it’d be fair game. Thought it looked nicer in here than on the curb, anyway.”

His companion walked forward with a smile, shoving him playfully with one arm. 

“What? You think I’m lying? They were big crows, boss. Guess they like music.” 

“Yeah, guess so.” They shook their head at him, and Raul couldn’t deny the grin that spread across his face, crinkling his dark eyes and making them shine with mirth. 

“It really is gorgeous though, Raul. You’re not just a handyman, you’re a craftsman. An artist. And you never told me.” The ghoul didn’t know really what to say to that, he’d never really thought of himself that way before. 

An artist, eh?

“This detail is just incredible.” Six continued to regard the piece of furniture with awe as they lay their head against his shoulder, and grasped one of his hands in theirs.

“It’s just a table, boss.”

“It is not.” They pulled away abruptly, looking him hard in the eye, “It’s a beautiful table. And a record player! Are you kidding me, Raul? This is amazing. You’re amazing.”

Something tightened in the ghoul’s chest at his partner’s insistence, but before he could respond to them properly, they were pulling away, turning back to the table with intent. 

“Now, let’s hear how she sounds, shall we?” 

Six knelt to inspect the full shelf below the record player, stuffed with the vinyls they had both collected, but never had the chance to play. 

“It’s really no big deal.” Raul insisted, still hung up on his partner’s generous praise. “You were gone for a whole week, mi amado, I had time, that’s all.” 

Their hand floated by the albums slowly as they inspected the titles, finally pausing when they reached that first one they had found all those months ago, and they pulled it free. Six turned back to him as they slid the record from its sleeve and prepared to play it. 

“Even if I had a hundred years I could never make something like this.”

“But I had two hundred. Remember? I've been around a long time.” Six rolled their eyes at that, and though their grin persisted, there was more than just amusement at the root of their expression. 

“Whatever, even two hundred, and I could never do something even close to this. You’re incredible.” 

“You said that already, boss.” 

Before they could drop the needle down onto the record, they turned to face their partner, a prevalent fire blazing in their irises that Raul couldn’t fail to notice, even from the other side of the room. 

“Well, I mean it! You are. And not just at this. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Raul." 

The ghoul's smile perked up at that, and suddenly he wanted to move, to reach out to his partner and show them his appreciation for their words, but something kept him rooted where he was standing. There was a tightness in his chest that seemed to hold him in place. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had spoken to him this way, even if it was with so much aggression. 

“I’m not your partner because of your handiwork, you know." They stepped towards him as they spoke, only halting when they were at a point where they could wrap their arms up and around his shoulders to meet his gaze properly.

"I’m with you because I love being around you. You make me so happy, I couldn’t imagine not having you in my life. Even just this one week apart made me realize how much I love being with you, even when we just walk beside each other, when we just talk. The things you say…" One hand came up to stroke over Raul's cheek, their thumb running smoothly over his roughened skin.

"You always make me laugh, or blush, and the way you look at me… Don’t you notice when I look at you too?” 

“No I… I guess I never did." He stuttered, "I didn’t think…” 

I didn’t think anyone could ever look at me the way I look at you.

“I don’t know, amor.” He said, resignation plain on his face as the words left him with a sigh.

“Well, then I guess I need to make it more obvious.” Six smirked, and Raul felt a rush of heat wash over him, even as his partner backed away from him, back to the table. To his surprise, they didn’t reach for the needle of the record player, but for the flat bit of the table beside it. 

“So, this part? What’s this for?” They asked as they ran a hand over the smooth wood.

“‘S just the table part." He shrugged, "Could put your drinks on it, or something, no sé.” 

Raul rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, feeling as though he just got whiplash.

How can they just say all that? An' then go back to this? To the table? Ay, ellos me vuelven loco.

Six considered the surface further, reaching both hands to press down on it firmly. Raul narrowed his eyes.

“Drinks’r not normally that heavy, Six.” 

“I wasn’t thinking about drinks… Why don’t you come here?”

With the way their voice dropped at their request, Six didn’t need to ask him twice. Raul took the few steps forwards as his partner hopped up onto the table, their legs dangling down and feet grazing the floor as they leaned forward. 

Raul kept moving towards them, filling the space between their opened legs with his hips as their arms slid over his chest, clasping tightly around the back of his neck.

“Think it’ll hold me?” They whispered with a smile and a raised brow, their firm hold only pulling him closer with the barest hint of pressure.

“Hmm… Depends.” He whispered, as he relented, leaning in close.

“On?”

“On how much we do.” Raul practically growled as he lost himself in his partner’s alluring gaze, their want for him seeping through every brush of their lips against his, the truth in their words of praise evident in the way their hands grazed over the nape of his neck, over his chest, tugging impatiently at the fabric of his jumpsuit; and in their eyes, closed tightly in pleasure and bliss, and opening only to look at him in a way he’s never been looked at before.

[autumntouched]

Day 5 of Ode to Phoenix:

Summary: Part of the Hannix Football Rivalry Series in which Jake is a Cowboys fan (lol like Glen) and Natasha is a 49ers fan (like Monica and me.) Jake proposes to Natasha

Pairings: Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Warnings: PG-13/R. Kissing and a mention of having sex

A/N: This just kept getting bigger and bigger so the longer (smuttier) version of Pt. 1 is going to have to wait for another day. This fic has everything...football, music, a proposal! I invite you to dance along with Jake and Natasha. Churned out with no edits so please excuse any mistakes! The next few Ode to Phoenix posts will be shorter so I can get back to Talk to Me.

The Proposal | Pt. 2

Having grown up in the Bay Area and Colorado, Natasha isn’t sure she’ll ever get used to humidity. August in Virginia is stifling so everyone crowds inside during the day for the air conditioning. The house Jake bought when he was first stationed in Virginia Beach has three bedrooms but between her mom and his parents helping him move, that feels cramped. She’s grateful for their help setting up the house–the kitchen and living room are nearly done after only two days–but glad for the quiet when they go back to their hotel for the night. 

“Want to go upstairs and work on the bedroom? I’ll finish up the kitchen,” Jake offers, closing the front door against the heavy air. “Or do you want kitchen duty?” 

“All yours, handsome,” she says without hesitation. He grins. He earns a “handsome” for chores she’d rather not do. She pecks him on the mouth and heads upstairs to make the bed. 

Natasha and Jake were lucky enough that they both managed to get stationed at Oceana, but he has to rotate ahead of her meaning that for a few months they’ll be long distance with two households. It’s the perfect opportunity for them to streamline the hodgepodge of belongings they’ve acquired between moving in and out with one another over the last two years so Jake asked her to fly in for the weekend to help him sort through everything. 

Which makes sense on a practical level, but she’s starting to get suspicious of what other plans he might have while her mom and his parents are in town. Not that it doesn’t also make sense to have as many extra hands as possible because she has to fly out Monday and Jake will start work. At least tomorrow they get to take a break from unpacking–and her worrying that he’s going to drop down on one knee at any moment–to enjoy the Cowboys and 49ers facing off in a preseason game. 

Well, maybe not enjoy because she’s going to be pissed if the Niners lose. A loss means having to wear one of Jake’s Cowboys jerseys for the rest of the weekend. But she’s looking forward to Payback and Nora coming by with their daughter Alexis. And Bob and Coyote. She’s excited that she’ll overlap with them and Mickey, who’s deployed at the moment. She talks to Bob in some way every day, but she misses seeing him. 

Instead of working on the room though, Natasha finishes picking out her touchdown playlist for the next day. When Jake comes upstairs, she’s sitting cross legged on their very much not made bed. A pillow slams into her side, knocking her phone out of her hand. She looks up into Jake’s half annoyed half amused face. “Seriously, babe?” he complains. 

“It’s not like we’re going to bed right now,” she defends herself. Most people assume Natasha is the household’s taskmaster but that would be Jake. Sometime during their relationship, she’d taken over managing their finances and taxes because Jake only did enough to keep them in order and left so much money on the table. 

“Yeah, but I was looking forward to making out with you on top of a made bed.”

That catches Natasha’s attention. Oh. She grabs her phone and rolls off the bed. “One made bed coming right up.” 

But when he notices that all she has on beneath his Navy t-shirt is a pair of boyshorts, he decides he can do without sheets. Jake hoists her up. Her legs circle his trim waist and squeeze when he kneads the curves of her ass. Her hair falls over her shoulder as she looks down into his burning green gaze and traces the lines of his smile with her thumbs. 

Natasha is going to make a joke about him putting up with her but what comes out surprises both of them. “I love you, Jake.” 

His whole expression shifts like the sun bursting from behind the clouds on an overcast day. “I was an idiot for every day I wasted not loving you,” he tells her. 

She touches her lips to his in a succession of kisses that start brief and hard and become progressively slower and deeper. Natasha closes her eyes, arching into him as his arm, chest, and leg muscles tense and shift beneath and around her to slowly lower her to the mattress. The strength it takes for him to maintain control of their descent floods her with simmering heat. Her head rests on his outstretched arm as his tongue parts her lips. The room is quiet except for the rhythmic lap of their kisses, the soft sighs, faint moans, and sharp exhales as they put off the siren song of their arousal to revel in the intoxicating realm of their kisses. 

Jake’s hand, rough from the work of moving, massages circles up and down her bare thigh. She gasps when his fingers trace the line where the fabric of her underwear meets skin. Natasha’s body stretches and trembles beneath his weight when Jake eventually makes slow, tender love to her. 

She’s still feeling the faint, warm buzz of their night when she leans into the mirror to lay the strips of eye black across her cheeks for the game. Natasha checks her reflection. Her lucky childhood Montana 49ers jersey is now more of a crop top. Since Jake’s parents are here, she’s opted for a pair of high waisted, black shorts. She pins one side of her recently bobbed hair back. Not exactly her fiercest look for the showdown about to happen, but the eye black helps. 

Downstairs, her mom and Sandy Seresin laugh when they see her game day get up. “Is the eye black really necessary?” Mama asks.

“I have to defend my turf,” Natasha insists, jumping in to help with preparing the food. Mama’s wearing her McCaffrey jersey in support of the Bay and Sandy is fully decked out in a Cowboys v-neck t-shirt and blue star earrings. Jake and his dad, Jack, are outside at the grill. It’s so hot she assumes they’ll want to shower and change when they come in. 

Payback and Nora also laugh when she opens the door for them. “Y’all are really taking this seriously,” Payback observes with a roll of his eyes. 

Natasha picks up Alexis for a hug and kiss. “Would you expect anything less?” she challenges, leading the way to the living room. Alexis is much heavier than the last time Natasha got to hold her and adorable with her hair cornrowed back into two little puffs. “How old are you, big girl?” 

Alexis proudly manages to hold up three fingers after a little bit of a struggle. “Free!” 

“Definitely a big girl then! Make sure you tell Uncle Jake you’re rooting for the 49ers today, okay?” Alexis nods solemnly. 

“Phoenix, leave my child out of this!” Nora orders, following them into the kitchen with her platter of artichoke dip. 

“Remember, you like the forty niners like Auntie Nat okay?” Natasha whispers to Alexis, tickling the little girl’s belly and making her giggle. “Can you say ‘Go Niners’?”

Alexis throws her fists in the air. “Go Nine-as!” she says with appropriate gusto. She must already be watching sports at home with her parents.  

Natasha smirks at Nora’s tut of protest. “Perfect!” 

She introduces Payback, Nora, and Alexis to her mom and Sandy. Jake comes downstairs in his Cowboys jersey. After he hugs Payback and Nora, he lifts Alexis into the air. 

“Remember what we say to Uncle Jake today?” Natasha prompts from the refrigerator where she’s grabbing a round of beers for everyone. She tries to ignore the knot of excitement in her abdomen watching Jake holding a baby. 

Alexis puts up her fists again. “Go Nine-as!” she says proudly. Alexis looks around, soaking up the uproarious attention that her cheer gets from the adults so she fortunately doesn’t see Jake’s face fall. He glares over at Natasha who raises a beer to him. Already 49ers one, Cowboys zero.

He’s heartened when Coyote arrives in a Cowboys shirt and Bob opts for entirely neutral attire, to Natasha’s vocal dismay. As her former backseater, he’s supposed to be on her side. It’s a nice house warming for their living room to be full of friends and family so soon. She ends up on the new sectional between Sandy and Mama during the pre-game show. Jake does most of the hosting because Alexis is busy playing with her Tiana doll in Natasha’s lap, the little girl’s head resting on her chest. Every time he passes her on the way to the kitchen, Jake finds some way to touch her and once he leans over to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

When she glances up at him over her shoulder, she can see in his face that if it were up to him, they’d have their own baby on the way well before the end of the night. He’s going to have to slow his roll on that one though because she needs to get through this deployment tour. Which he knows because he’s the one who made sure that she got the job. 

They’d found out through some friends that they were both in consideration for a position in the Strike Fighter Wing Atlantic command, a known stepping stone to admiral. Natasha was favored, and the Commodore was fighting hard for her. However, a few of the senior leaders were concerned that Jake and Natasha’s request to be transferred together with the anticipation of getting married meant an impending pregnancy. Of course, it was illegal for that to be a consideration but that didn’t stop those conversations from playing out behind closed doors. The Navy might be moving women up the ranks, but the infrastructure to support maternity leave was changing at a far slower pace and the command couldn’t afford to be down an officer. 

And Jake was a convincing choice. No one would question his qualifications for the job, and it would be easier for them to start a family if she became an instructor. 

Subtlety isn’t exactly her boyfriend’s strong suit. And he always says he doesn’t gamble with money because his whole career is enough of a gamble. Without telling her first, Jake took one of the biggest swings of his Naval career. He went to leadership and told them in no uncertain terms what her career meant to her and that if the Navy ever forced him into a corner of protecting his career or hers, hers would always come first. He’d leave the military before he’d let them pass her over for something she deserved. He was also ready to take further action if he felt she wasn’t being given a fair shot.  

She’d only found out because Rooster barreled his way into their house, wide-eyed and incredulous, and demanded to know what Jake had done because a friend was asking whether he knew the aviator couple that had the Secretary of the Navy’s office in Washington in an uproar. 

Natasha got her orders within a week. Jake sat patiently through her stern lecture about making joint career decisions before she fucked him senseless for going to bat for her.   

After Jake brushes her hair aside to kiss the back of her neck on his way back from the kitchen, she catches Nora giving Payback a significant look. Her husband simply lifts his eyebrows and hides a smile in a sip of his beer. Nora comes over to take Alexis back just before kick off. 

Jake sets the portable speaker on the coffee table. “Not that you’ll need it,” he tells Natasha smugly, “but got your touchdown playlist ready?”

“Touchdown playlist?” Sandy asks.

“Get ready,” Bob warns wearily. “You might see some things you wish you didn’t when their team scores.” 

“I still have nightmares about Hangman doing the worm,” Coyote adds. He’s lounging in one of the armchairs with his ankle crossed over his knee. 

“Remember there is a child here,” Payback says, looking pointedly at Jake and Natasha. “I’m not ready to start paying for her therapy.”

Jake settles back into the bar chair he dragged in for himself. “What are you worried about? She’s going to be inspired.” 

Their friend knows them well enough to doubt that. Natasha decides to team up with Jake for the last time over the next few hours. “You should probably save your therapy money for when she sees you on a dance floor.” 

The former Dagger Squad snickers remembering how Nora had genuinely feared her new husband was going to hurt himself dancing at their wedding reception. He’d had more to drink than any of them had ever seen the normally restrained aviator consume. Jake leans forward to high five her, and Payback glares at them.

“I think I like it better when you two are not on the same team,” he grumbles.

Things only get more riled up once the game starts. San Francisco gets the ball first, and Mama cheers as loudly as Natasha watching them move the ball down the field. They’re both on their feet waiting for a deep pass to spiral into the wide receiver’s arms. He manages to catch the ball and hold onto it before he goes down.

“Yes!!” they scream in unison, high fiving. They wave their arms at the TV. “Oh, oh, oh first down!” 

And when Kittle secures the ball in the end zone Sandy finds out what the touchdown playlist is. Natasha selects her song. Tupac’s “California Love.” She does the first victory dance of the game in front of the wall mounted, large screen TV. To everyone’s delight, Mama immediately jumps up to join her. But it’s all over when Alexis realizes her cue and slides out of Payback’s lap to shimmy herself into the dance. And fortunately, she gets her rhythm from her mother. 

Jack and Coyote hurry to move the coffee table against the wall before someone falls over it. Which is a good call because Sandy leaps forward several feet when the Dallas defense intercepts a pass. Alexis covers her ears at the Seresins and Coyote shouting for the safety to run the ball down the field while Natasha and her mom scream for the offense to stop him. The interception delivers Dallas a tie at the end of the first quarter, and Coyote, Jake, Sandy, and Jack push the boundaries of Payback’s warning, thrusting their hips to Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Jump on It.”

And Natasha can’t help but laugh at the perfect pick when Jake gets in her face at, “And this where the Cowboys play. They battle with my team from the bay.” She squares off with him, brushing off the shoulders of her jersey. 

The second quarter is tense and scoreless. Then McCaffrey scores half way through the third. As soon as Mama hears the LSJUMB’s version of “All Right Now,” she comes hurtling from the kitchen. 

“What the–,” Jake demands, watching Natasha and her mom kick, twirl, and step their way through her mother’s Stanford Dolly routine. Although Mama is no longer the svelte, dark haired dancer she was during college, she has no trouble keeping up with Natasha. Alexis, fully committed to her role as a Niners fan for the game, spins along. 

On cue, the two of them count, “Five, six, seven, eight!” and jump. 

Out of breath, Mama collapses next to Sandy on the sofa. They giggle over the glimpse into Natasha’s childhood going to Stanford football games. “I’m going to pay for that tomorrow,” Mama sighs happily, pushing her gray-streaked curls out of her face. 

Jake follows her to the kitchen when Natasha goes to grab a few more beers. Completely ignoring the fact that anyone could walk in, he hugs her from behind and rubs his hand over her exposed stomach. He kisses his way up her neck, his breath sending delightful shivers down her back. “I think I’m going to need a private performance of that routine some time,” he whispers before kissing the sensitive shell of her ear. 

She clutches the beers to her chest and glances toward the archway that leads to the living room. The coast seems clear. Under the rattle of beer bottles, she murmurs, “Mmm, did my little show turn you on, Bagman?” 

“You have any idea how hot you look right now?” he groans. “Even if you’re wearing the wrong team’s jersey?” 

And mostly for her own self-control, Natasha butts him away from her. “Better simmer down there, hot stuff,” she cautions a little breathlessly. “And help me be a good host.” 

He’s going in for a kiss when the living room erupts in cheers. “I think you’re up,” she says, glancing down at his crotch to make sure his dance moves are the only thing he’s about to show off. Jake groans and takes the hint. He swipes a carrot on his way out and pulls his phone from his pocket. “Shake Ya Tailfeather” blasts from the living room. 

Natasha holds a beer to her cheek to cool her face. Jake, Sandy, and Coyote are taking it way too low when she gets back, but Alexis and Nora are doing the Harlem Shake so Payback is really outnumbered here. Natasha hands him a freshly opened beer and pats his shoulder. Luckily for him because he does not look prepared for Nora and Alexis to have their own choreography to Jake’s next touchdown pick, “Savage Remix.” 

With the 49ers down by a touchdown going into the fourth quarter, Natasha yells herself hoarse. Bob finally remembers his loyalty and starts cheering with her. She’s so preoccupied with the close game that it takes her some time to realize how quiet Jake’s become. He doesn’t make a sound when the Cowboys nearly recover a 49ers fumble. When she looks back at him, he’s sitting forward in his chair, leg bouncing nervously. His lips are pressed together so tightly that he’s gone white around the mouth. 

“Jake?” she asks. He doesn’t seem to hear her at first. “Jake, are you okay honey?” 

He snaps up and pushes a hand into his hair. “Huh?” Sandy and Jack are staring at him too now. He blushes when he realizes that everyone’s attention is on him. “Just thinking of you stuck in a Cowboys jersey for the rest of the weekend,” he smirks, easing back in the chair and loosening his limbs. 

It’s a lie, but he’s not going to tell her with everyone watching. Natasha goes back to the game, but a small part of her can’t help checking on him every now and then. He goes to the kitchen and comes back with a beer, looking a little more relaxed. And then the 49ers drive to the endzone with fourteen seconds left on the clock and decide to go for the safety. 

Natasha practically stops breathing, her heart hammering a bruise into her ribs. 

“What’s happening, Mommy?” Alexis asks, noticing how still the room has suddenly become. Even Nora’s too engrossed to answer. 

With only a few seconds left on the clock, the 49ers muscle their way to a one point victory. Natasha explodes. “Yes!” she screams like her team just won the Super Bowl instead of a preseason match up. She runs to the TV and kisses each of the players on the screen. 

“Phoenix, I just cleaned that!” Jake yells weakly over Bob, Nora, and Alexis celebrating with her. Even the Seresins seem to enjoy the good fun of a game hard fought, Sandy and Mama hugging. 

Natasha spins, arms in the air. “You’re wearing my jersey now Bagman!” she shouts pointing at him. She runs to the sofa and puts on the song she saved for a Niners victory touchdown, “SF Anthem.” 

“Do I have to put the jersey on now?” Jake groans. 

“Do it!” Coyote shouts. “Let’s see your shame!” 

Bob claps his hands, savage. “We won’t leave until you put it on!” 

“Fine,” he grumbles, red in the face. “Where’d you put it?” 

Jake had refused to even look at the jersey before the game, claiming that it was going to bring the Cowboys bad luck. Looks like that didn’t matter in the end. 

She races past him up the stairs to get it from her suitcase. He stomps up behind her, pouting. Natasha rummages through her bag until she finds it, but when she turns around to give it to him he’s already holding one up. It looks a little small for him though. 

A slow smile spreads across his face when he sees her surprise. “I figured that if I had to lose this one, we might as well be matching.” 

“Matching?” 

Jake’s eyes crinkle and his grin looks fit to burst his face as he turns the shirt around. “I can’t think of many circumstances under which I’d be rooting for my Cowboys to lose.” Her eyes fall to the name written across the back of the red jersey. Seresin. “But making sure the day I ask you to marry me is absolutely perfect for you is apparently one of them.” 

Natasha’s brain is stumbling to catch up. “Is that for me?” she asks slowly as understanding dawns on her. 

“I promise I have your ring, but our moms threatened to murder me if they didn’t get to see that part so your mom insisted on holding onto it,” he says, voice cracking. He clears his throat and laughs nervously at her open-mouthed silence. “But I thought–well, you mentioned once that you’d want it to be just us when I asked so–.”  

“Yes.”

He gives her disgruntled look. “Nat, I haven’t asked yet!”

“I thought the shirt was–.”

“See! This is why people get down on one knee so the asking part is clear!” 

A sly smile starts across her mouth. “Are you arguing with me or proposing to me?” 

“Goddamnit, I don’t know! Both, I guess. But I love you for that too, Natasha Trace, because somehow even when we’re arguing I only find more reasons to love you. And you’ve taught me that we don’t have to argue for us to see eye to eye. People always say that the person they love makes them better, but I love you because you make everyone better, not just me. And I love that you know how much I love a show but that never stops you from reminding me in all the quiet ways every single day how much you love me. 

Natasha swallows, trying not to choke or tear up but this time it’s a losing game. Jake’s face opens up like she’s never seen, every defense down with his soul laid bare to her. He comes to her, leaving the shirt on the bed so he can take her in his arms. Tenderly, his hand cradles her face, thumb swiping away the tears she’s given up holding back. When she remembers this night, there will always be his green eyes leading her heart to his. 

He finishes barely above a whisper, every word forever meant only for them. “I love that you push me and challenge me in every way to be better but you’re always there when I fall short. I love that I look up to you more than anyone in the world not because you’re perfect but because you have the grace to realize no one is without letting that stop you from being better. And I love that you were right about not going down on one knee to ask you to marry me because it means I don’t have to let you go, and I never want to. So will you marry me, Natasha Trace?” 

“I don’t ever want to let you go either, Jake, so yes.” 

Just before he kisses her, Natasha’s heart beats one last time as her own. 

Jake is game to wear his Niners jersey downstairs for the proposal in front of their friends and family, but she loves him enough not to want him to have to remember their engagement that way. So, instead, she changes into the Seresin jersey that he got her. 

When they come downstairs hand-in-hand, she’s not quite so surprised to find that the number of people they left downstairs has grown. Her father, brothers, and sister are there, as are Rooster and Maverick. Jake’s cousins, Fallon and Zach, as close to him as siblings, are waiting too. Even with all the shushing, it’s still so loud and crowded in the living room when Jake goes down on one knee that Natasha is glad she was also right about it being just them when he asked for the first time. 

But she’s very happy to say “yes” again and every day after. 

Jake slides the delicate ring they'd picked out together onto her finger and dips her into a kiss that raises enough noise to shake the house.

It's not until Natasha is on the verge of sleep that something occurs to her. "Jake?"

"Hmmm?"

"What if the Cowboys won? What would you have done about the jersey?"

"Given you the Cowboys one."

Natasha flies up. "You got me a Cowboys jersey?"

"I'm sure you'll have a chance to put it to good use," he promises with a sleepy smirk.

E/N: Any thoughts on Jake and Natasha's first dance song for their wedding?

Tag List: @melodiousoblivionao3

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

Series Masterlist | The Proposal Pt. 1

[crystal-lillies]

After watching Peter Pan and Wendy I had the urge to delve into the Peter Pan properties I love, and since I was already there in Disney Plus, I fired up Return to Neverland.

And god man even all these years later it still slaps and shows why it was one of the few (if the only? Iirc, don't quote me) 2000s sequels that was released in theaters rather than DTV.

It's far from perfect but the animation is really good, the heart and through line of the film ring clear and true, and after the dozens of times watching it I still get emotional at the feels gut punch moments like Tink's light going out and Peter's reunion with Wendy at the end.

And something I really appreciated this time was noticing how very young boy-ish Peter and the Lost Boys really are depicted. Playing keep away, the incessant "why" badgering, spit handshakes, chaos incarnate, "we're rolling in dirt and we don't change our shirts" (how BAD must they stink oh my GOD 😂). But then they really do care when and where it counts.

And Hook, despite being a bit tamed and toon-y compared to the '53 original, still has a menace and cunning that's fun to watch.

Peter in this iteration is arguably the animated Peter I enjoy the most because he's softened from his more asshole rigid style of the '53 movie, but it feels like at least a believable progression from his arc in that movie. But like I said, he's still pretty vain and childlike, but he's more in touch with his empathy, which I've always liked. And he has to be so that he can encourage Jane out of her defensive coping mindset.

Also have I mentioned the fucking baller move to set this movie during wartime? The scene of the Jolly Roger flying through London dodging planes is epic, despite the aging CG effects.

Don't even get me started on Mama Wendy, she's so good. A part of me still wishes she could deck Hook in the face for kidnapping Jane because I feel like she totally would if given the chance 😂 Where else did Jane learn to fight?

And Jane. Jane my love! They did such a good job of showing her characterization from start to finish. Even while trying to be serious and grown up at the beginning, she can't help but listen to Wendy tell stories, can't help but enjoy them, despite herself. She doesn't think she has the right to enjoy them, to indulge in fantasy when she's old enough to see and understand war as a concept and how it makes things hard. She thinks Wendy is just making light of things for Danny instead of preparing him for hardship (being practical), when Wendy is doing what she can to keep hope (+faith, trust, pixie dust) alive BECAUSE she knows of the hardship and that holding tight to that will help through any painful time.

It's so good! Executed in a bit less of a nuanced manner than I'm making it out as lol but that's okay for what it is! We don't have time to unpack that because it is a Peter Pan story after all and we gotta spend at least 85% of the time in Neverland haha. But the fact that it's there and serves as one of the emotional cores of the story is more than you can ask for, especially of a Disney sequel let alone a movie in general.

And I'm starting to ramble but point being Return to Neverland is a lot better than it probably needs to be but I'm so glad it went as hard as it did and everyone who worked on it should be proud and anyone who hasn't yet seen it that likes Peter Pan should watch it!