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lostdreamr-blog1 · 1 year

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Roadside Assistance

Summary: When you breakdown on the side of the road and only one pilot seems to answer the phone.

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Some minor swear words, lots of fluff ahead.

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: So sorry I’ve been MIA. But tomorrow is my birthday and I thought I would all gift you with one of my WIP’s! Hoping to be writing again more regularly! As always, my inbox is open for you. Thanks for reading!!

Your car made a noise you didn’t even know was possible to make. While that might have seemed a tad concerning, you didn’t give it much thought as your car still drove fine. Yeah, there might have been a few lights on the dashboard, but you viewed them more as suggestions to do something later.

You happily continued towards your destination, singing along to a song on the radio, when your car decided to stop working. The entire machine seemed to shut off, causing panic to rise up. It was kind enough to at least give you enough momentum to pull off to the side of the road.

A few choice words spilled out of your mouth as you tried and failed to restart your car. You looked up and saw you were in the middle of nowhere, stranded midday in the California heat.

A sensible thing would have been to call a tow truck, but something about being stuck in a vehicle with a stranger didn’t sit right with you. So, you did the next best thing and started calling your teammates to see if one of them would be kind enough to come and save you.

You started with Rooster and prayed your mustached friend was by his phone. Luck didn’t seem to be on your side as you were met with his voicemail. The same went for nearly every other person on your team until you were left with one number.

You couldn’t exactly fault them. It was the team’s one Saturday off and everyone was taking advantage of it. Something you were in the middle of doing until your car decided it wanted to be dramatic today.

The thought to take your chances with a tow truck came back up as you debated on calling the last number. Even if he did answer, you know you would never hear the end of it.

Who knew how close the nearest shop was and thinking about either trying to make small talk with a stranger or being stuck in an awkward silence, sent shivers down your spine. So, you dialed the number and prayed he wasn’t in his normal, annoying mood.

“Seresin.” He answered on the second ring, catching you completely off guard at the quickness of it.

“Umm, hi. Yeah, it’s me. Look I wouldn’t be calling unless it was a near emergency, and it seems like no one has a phone today. But I’m stuck on the side of the road and need someone to come get me.” You tapped your fingers nervously on the steering wheel as you quickly explained what was going on.

“Side of the road? Are you okay? What happened?” The urgency in his voice made you freeze. Hangman didn’t care about anything but the brand of hair gel he uses. Which led to you asking, “Are you drunk?”

An exasperated sigh was your answer. “No, Y/N. I’m as sober as a judge. No can you tell me what’s going on?”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the saying but answered him anyway. “My car broke down on the way to this beach and it won’t start.”

There was a long pause, “And you called me?” You threw your hands up in the air, knowing he couldn’t see your reaction.

“As I previously stated, no one else answered. I also don’t want to call a tow truck for personal reasons. Can you help or do I need to start walking?” You tried not to sound irritated at him, but the heat was starting to get to you.

“Yeah, not a problem. Send me your location and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Are your hazard lights on?” You looked down at your car and started trying to find them.

“Uh, yeah.” You didn’t miss the chuckle on the other end of the line, letting you know he caught your lie.

“I’ll be there shortly. Don’t get out of your car until I get there.” You gave him a hum in response and hung up. After a few more minutes of searching, you held your fist up in victory as you found your hazard lights.

It didn’t take too long for your teammate to pull up behind you and you hoped that whatever the problem was, he could fix it quickly. You got out of your car to greet him, and he took his aviators off and looked you over, making sure you were still in one piece.

“You good?” There he went again, asking about your well-being. The jet fumes must be getting to him.

“Yeah, just hot.” You looked away before you saw his smirk at your response

He walked over and reached inside your car to pop the hood. “What happened before it died?”

You thought about imitating the noise it made but thought better of it. Lord knows you would only sound like a dying animal. “It made a weird sound and the died a few minutes after.”

He didn’t ask any other questions until he bent over the front of your car. “When was your last oil change?”

You went to answer him, but he took off his shirt, successfully distracting you for the moment. All the guys in the Navy were in shape, but Jake seemed like he was sculpted from the Gods.

A snapping of fingers brought you out of your daze. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.”

You shook your head at your obvious misstep in stroking his ego. And his ever-present smirk was the cherry on top.

“I can’t remember. Maybe before my last deployment.” Your eyes followed him as he bent back over, using his shirt to unscrew something. You didn’t miss the way his bicep flexed at the movements or the sweat slowly dripping down his back. It was hot outside, but not lord not this hot.

You had to physically turn around to stop ogling the man before he caught you again. Hangman didn’t need to know you couldn’t keep your eyes off him, just like every other girl in this world.

He pulled his head out from under the hood and smirked at you. “You don’t know a single thing about cars, do you?”

Although his looks might have nice on the eyes, it was comments like that that pulled you back to reality. “I’m a pilot. I don’t need to know about cars.” Your answer seemed to amuse him more as he shook his head and chuckled.

You thought about your decision to not call the tow truck and mentally slapped yourself. “I don’t see how my lack of knowledge is funny.”

He wiped his hands off on his shirt and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just funny that one of the best pilots in the US can work on an F-18 like it’s nothing, but a simple car engine is out of your depths.”

When he said it out loud you knew it sounded bad. “I’m sorry I’m your typical girl and don’t care about cars.”

He shut the hood of your car and stepped towards you, “Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you. But you are far from your typical girl. As for your car, it’s gonna cost you.”

You looked over at the dead piece of scrap metal and asked, “What will? The car or you?”

That question had him throwing his head back and laughing. “As much as I would love to cash in whatever your mind went to, I meant the car. The transmission is blown.”

A person didn’t have to know much about cars to know that a blown transmission was a near death sentence for both your bank account and the car itself. You didn’t know if it was the heat or the situation itself, but you could feel your anger start to bubble to the surface.

Jake must have seen it too and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, no need to worry. We will get the car towed and I know a guy in the area that can give you a good deal. It’ll be fixed by the end of this mission. Sound okay?”

You nodded your head and let him lead you to his truck. He turned on the A/C and told you to sit tight. The cool air on your face had never in your life felt as good as it did in this moment. He walked back out to your car, and you leaned your head back on the seat and closed your eyes. The one Saturday you have off and it’s spent on the side of the damn road.

A noise had you opening your eyes and you saw the dreaded tow truck start loading your car up. You made a move to get out, but Jake held a hand up telling you to stay in the car. You don’t thank this man for much, but in this moment, he was your god damn savoir.

Before too long, Jake got back in the truck and started driving like he didn’t just send your car off to be slaughtered. Before you could dwell too much on that, you realized the two of you were headed the opposite way of the base.

“Where are we going?”

“Well Darlin’, seeming that neither of us got to spend this day like we originally planned, I figured I’d go buy you a drink.” He was casually holding the steering wheel with one hand while the other rested on the center console. Not looking like he had a care in the world.

“You want to buy me a drink? Me?” You thought about the way you treated him at base and couldn’t fathom why he of all people would go out of their way to buy you a drink. He always acted like he was better than everyone else and you were the constant reminder that he wasn’t.

“Why do you find that so hard to believe? Can’t I take a pretty girl like yourself out?” He tossed you a Hollywood smile. One that got every single girl he talked to, to drop their pants for him. Which is why you said what you did next.

“Yeah, I’m not doing this. Pull over so I can get out and walk.” You took off your seatbelt, just for him to reach over and buckle you back in.

“That. That right there is why I want to take you out. You are the one girl who I know won’t take anyone’s shit. Do you know how hard I’ve tried to get you to even think about spending a minute with me outside of work? Hell, I’ve never in my life tried so hard for a girl to notice me. It took you breaking down on the side of the road with zero other options but for you to call me. So yes, sweetheart. I’m going to take advantage of you being hostage in my truck and buy you a drink.”

You opened your mouth just to shut it, not knowing how to respond to that. Your mind was reeling, trying to put together pieces you didn’t know went to the same puzzle. Jake had been around you more recently, but you thought it had to do with him trying to beat you out of a spot for this mission. Not that he might actually have feelings for you.

Had you been this narrow minded the entire time?

“Still with me?” The southern drawl of a voice snapped you out of your downward spiral. You glanced over at him and saw he was studying your reaction. The casual demeanor was now gone as his fingers tapped along the steering wheel. Was the all mighty Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin nervous?

“Why not simply ask me out? Ever think of that option?” You watched in amusement as he turned to face the road again, clearly thinking over what you just said. Going from nervous to downright frustrated was two things you didn’t get to see from him often. And it sounded a little cruel, but you loved it.

“It was that easy? This whole time it was that easy?” He looked to you in what seemed like complete exasperation, and you nodded your head.

“With all the praise you gave me earlier about not being like every other girl, yeah it was that simple. I’m not as complicated as you make me out to be. Flowers would’ve been nice though.” You gave him a smirk, just like the one he tortured you with day in and day out.

He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled. “Well alright then. Y/N, would you do me the honors in letting me buy you a drink?”

You tried to hide the blush that crept up onto your face by turning to look out the window. “Seeing that you have already kidnapped me, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

His snort had you turning back around and smiling. “Thank you for helping me with my car. Who knows how long I would’ve been stranded on the side of the road.”

He grabbed your hand and squeezed, “No one else I would cancel plans for.”

You froze as you processed his words. “What do you mean by canceled?”

The smirk was back as he said, “I was headed out with Coyote and a few of the other guys. So, with us being gone this long I think it’s safe to assume they know what’s going on.”

You sank back into the seat and shook your head. “I take it back. I’ll walk home from here.”

A/N: Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you so so much for reading!!!

#jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #topgun maverick #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #hangman top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #chelsea writes

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writing-rat · 8 months

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Vada's Little Brat

Pairing: Vada x reader

Content Warning: 18+ content, smut, Vada has a penis, semi-public sex (?), edging once

Summary: Vada doesn't pay you any attention so you have a plan...

You were living at Vada’s house now. You were bored since Vada had invited Nick, Mia and Quinton over and you wasn’t getting as much attention as you wanted but you understood until you realised she was more focused on making you needy. You could see it from that look inside of her eyes. You didn’t know why but you decided it would be best to try and ignore her too then. You wouldn’t react to her then too. You were sitting on your phone after that before you saw them all starting to smoke. You were watching her as you knew it was weed from the scent immediately.

That’s when you decided to act up. Getting up you went to the bathroom. Once inside you locked the door and was immediately stripping down to nothing before you sent photos to Vada. You took breast photos as well as pussy photos and sent them one by one. You could see that Vada saw them though as it had the ‘seen’ icon. That’s when you heard shuffling downstairs and her going upstairs before knocking on the door. “Yes?” you called out innocently. “Open this fucking door right now so I can fuck you,” Vada growled out, and you could hear it clearly. “Nope,” you teased her. She had to know how you felt after all, and you was going to give her medicine. You knew it would be a bad idea later on but you didn’t care about that right now. You just wanted to fuck with Vada. You heard Vada growl before she left. At that point you knew you were fucked since she didn’t give you a second chance.

After around 10 minutes, you went down and went on the couch again next to Mia. You knew you were safe then though you could feel Vada’s stare on you. She didn’t dare attempt anything before you thought of a plan. Since Mia was just watching Nick, Quinton and Vada play games, she was happy to talk to you. You were talking about random stuff with a smile as you soon leaned into her cuddles. You thought you heard her growl but didn’t say anything as you just leaned into it. Soon Mia got up and went to join the boys in the kitchen as they were getting drinks for everyone. Vada was quick to get on top of you then and was growling right in your ear as she was biting at the earlobe. You let out a gasp. “You are such a slut. Sending me photos then cuddling up to Mia,” she growled out loud. You whimpered. “You didn’t give me attention,” you whined out. “Well I was busy with my friends but now I’m not…” she growled out again. You were nodding submissively before you was thinking. “But… won’t they walk in?” You asked shyly. Vada just smirked and nodded. “I want them to see how much of a slut you are,” Vada responded before she was pulling your sweatpants down as well as hers. She went commando however you had on some underwear that was in her way. She proceeded to grab them and ripped them off. “Hey! They were my best pair,” you whined out with a groan. “And I don’t care,” she simply responded before she entered into you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moan that slipped out of your mouth. You were sure the others heard but you didn’t care in the slightest as you were getting her dick finally. She was grunting as she was thrusting nice and slow into you at first as she grabbed at your sides harshly. You knew they were going to bruise.

“You can watch and masturbate guys,” she called out, seeming to have seen the 3 outside the doorway. You flushed a bright red but you didn’t care as they walked in. You was holding onto Vada as she was scratching and biting you just like a dog would. You were grunting at every bite and scratch as you loved the attention you was getting while also feeling the thrill of being watched. You could feel their eyes on you as Vada was soon hitting your sweet spot, one thumb rubbing you clit. You was opening your legs the widest they could go as she did that and was throwing your head back louder, moans coming out and echoing around the room. She was grunting too as she was soon getting rougher and harder as she was groping your breast with the other hand. She was squeezing hard but you kept leaning into the touch as you closed your eyes tight, as she was soon stopping all movement and touches once she noticed you was close. She even had the audacity to smirk.

“Vada,” you whinperd out. “Please,” you practically begged out. Vada smirked, waiting for the urge to go down before she was thrusting again. You was panting as the others were getting back to the game while you were being fucked behind them. They knew how horny the short girl could get after all. Vada meanwhile was thrusting hard and fast as she was wanting to tease you as much as possible. You knew what she wanted. “Please daddy, I am so sorry. I won’t tease you ever again. Please just let me cum,” you whimpred out loudly, not caring if the others were listening in. That’s when Vada was pounding into you, kissing you deeply as she pinned you fully down on the couch and was soon sucking at your neck. You let out loud gasps as she was still hitting your sweet spot, her thumb rubbing your clit again. Since she was being rough, you were close and she knew.

“Cum for me baby,” she moaned out. Nodding, you came on command as you let out a quiet moan and was holding onto her wrists slightly. She kept pounding into you, letting you go down from your high before she pulled out and came on your thighs. You gasped at that but blushed hard.

“You joining again Vads?” Mia then asked.

#vada cavell smut #ratboy writing #ratboy writes #vada x reader #vada cavell #vada cavell x reader #the fallout

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obxsummer · 1 year

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I Fall Apart // Ghost of You

navigation -- series masterlist

summary: jj gets to mack on his girl, sarah's got topper whipped, john b and his dad are MIA, and y/n's reminded just how reckless her boyfriend can be

warnings: s3 spoilers, accidents, panic attacks, shitty parenting as per usual

The first thing you did was shove JJ into the shower. The next was handling getting the electricity back on since clearly your father wasn’t concerned with doing that. You were fine with not tagging along with their treasure hunting, but you were worried about your brother. He loved your dad, adored him for so much of his life, and it concerned you that he wouldn’t see what a pawn he was in your dad’s plans.

You had told JJ as much as you sat in the bathroom on the floor while he showered. You told him about Singh’s place, about Rafe, and how your dad sent you guys on a goose chase for a rock. JJ couldn’t say he was surprised, about any of it, but he was just glad to be back with you.

Soon enough, Sarah and Kie were on your doorstep, the four of you crowding out by the dock to get the last of the warm sun on you before turning in for the night.

“I went back to grab clothes and a phone, and you’re not gonna believe this,” Sarah started as she sat down next to you. “Rafe is back. I saw him at the house. I don’t think he saw me, but I think the cross is coming back to Wilmington tomorrow night.”

You sat up from where you were leaning against JJ’s chest to face her. “What?”

“Does Pope know?” Kie asked.

Sarah shook her head. “No, I was gonna tell him when I found you guys.”

“He can’t, he’s on lockdown.” You expected everyone to take some time away, and connect with their families before coming back to figure out the next steps.

Sarah sighed, “Okay, well. Kie and I can hit up Pope and you guys tell John B when you see him?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” You gave them both a small smile as they said their goodbyes and walked back up the dock.

You and JJ sat silently, taking in the warmth on your skin before the sun disappeared for the night. You really wished your brother would come home or at least check in to make sure he was okay. Sarah had found a spare iPhone charger to give you for the phone you guys had taken from Barbados. You made sure any tracking services were off so Singh couldn’t try and chase you down.

“Well if the cross is coming back, it’s still on the field. We’re still in this, we can come in and swoop. We gotta get everybody together and come up with a plan,” JJ rattled off as his fingers tapped excitedly against your thighs.

You took a deep breath and grabbed JJ’s hands to hold in your own. You were thankful for the last chance opportunity to get the cross back, but you didn’t want to risk running into Rafe or getting your friends into the line of trouble again.

“Talk to me,” JJ held out the word, swinging your hands back and forth before wrapping around your waist tightly to hold you. “C’mon.”

A small smile formed on your face, so grateful for a boy who could read you so easily, who could love you so easily. You laughed as he left wet kisses against your shoulders into the curve of your neck to get you to talk. “Okay, okay.” He pressed one more to your temple for good measure. “I’m just worried about John B. That’s all.”

“He’s with your dad, Y/N. I’m sure he’s perfectly fine.”

You kept your grip on JJ’s hand and brought it up to your lips to kiss the back of it. “That’s exactly why I’m worried about him. My dad is way too deep in this treasure hunt to realize he’s putting his own kids at risk, and John B will just let him because he doesn’t want to disappoint him.”

“He didn’t seem too upset when you said you didn’t wanna go,” JJ tried to reason.

You shook your head. “That’s because he doesn’t have any disappointment left when it comes to me. I know he doesn’t care if I’m there or not. That’s how it’s always been. Him and John B against the world. I was just the backup piece.” You took a deep, shaky breath. “Your dad takes the prize for Shittiest Dad but I think mine might be a close second.”

JJ laughed at the idea. “Well, Ward Cameron might take second but I get what you mean. And it may be hard, but I don’t want you to think what your dad says represents the truth about you. You’re my number one, no matter what.”

You mumbled a small thank you, adjusting further into his grip as if there was any room to. God knows what you’d do without JJ.

"We have the whole house to ourselves?"

"Jesus Christ, JJ!"

Your group met back up the next afternoon to figure out what the plan was to get the cross back. You still hadn’t heard anything from John B, Sarah claiming the same. The six of you crowded around a small table with the sun beating down on you. The ferry ride to Wilmington wouldn’t take too long so you could bear the heat for the time being.

“Honestly, the hardest part is gonna be security, alright?” JJ was running everyone through the steps of what would need to go down. “So most of the guys are gonna be at the rail yard.”

“Right, so we’re going to need to find someplace and guard it, maybe a little further down the line, like a whistle-stop or something,” Pope theorized.

“You guys are getting ahead of yourselves per usual,” Cleo interrupted, “We don’t have a way to transport the cross. What did you think? On JJ’s motorcycle?”

Your boyfriend grunted behind you and pulled his hat off. “That’s not my fault.”

“Okay, so other options-”

“Oh, my God.” You all stopped conversing at Sarah’s sudden outburst, watching as she sat up stiffly next to you. You moved instantly, Kie and Pope doing the same to see where her gaze had been to come up with Topper Thornton.

“Why…is he everywhere?” Kiara asked as she turned back around.

Pope, however, was on a different thought process. “Perfect. Hey, Jayj. I bet you Topper has a way to transport the cross.”

Your boyfriend shrugged at the suspicion. “Actually, Pope’s right. He does have a rig.”

“No.” Sarah instantly declined.

“Yes,” JJ clapped right back.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on,” JJ pestered, “Sarah, you already got him whipped anyway, alright? So, why don’t you just take one for the team?”

The blonde was not happy with the suggestion. “What would John B say?”

You tilted your head in consideration. “Eh, I think John B would completely understand. It is about the treasure.” You caught her defeated look and leaned over to place your hand on hers. “If you really don’t want to, it’s okay. You don’t have to. But, I think if you just talk to him, he may be willing.”

Sarah let out a deep breath before mumbling an agreement and getting to her feet. The five of you watched carefully, moving out of view so Topper couldn’t see you directly. You hated the idea of Sarah feeling uncomfortable with this but you knew she could handle it. After a few moments of back and forth, she suddenly gave Topper a big hug which signaled an agreement in your eyes. Your friends silently cheered around you, giving her a thumbs up when she made eye contact.

Maybe y’all had a chance at this after all.

It was dark out by the time you guys hit the train yard, managing to situate yourself on top of one of the cars so you could survey everything around you.

“Well, there’s like a thousand trains here.”

“We know it’s car 750X on the track to Raleigh, so now we just gotta find it.”

You scanned the area in front of you. “Well, news flash, guys. We’re not getting out of here unnoticed with a giant cross.”

“We don’t have to,” Pope said, “We can nab it somewhere further in the country. Just gotta figure out how to stop the train.”

“Leave that to me,” JJ interrupted everyone’s thought process. You stared at him, waiting for further explanation. “I got an uncle up in New Bern, right? When he got tipsy, he’d just throw an old chain across the tracks for shits and giggles. And that old little chain would stop all the train traffic in Coastal Carolina.”

Kie looked at him incredulously. “A chain?”

“He’s actually right,” Pope confirmed, “There’s a low voltage current that runs across all rail tracks. You throw a chain on it, you close that circuit. It would read as another train. Crossing lights come down. Science is actually pretty sound.”

JJ clapped his hands together and gave you a small nudge. “Science, babe. I knew my science.”

“Well, babe, we don’t have a chain,” You reminded him.

“No, but I bet Topper’s dad has jumper cables in the truck,” Sarah pointed out, “Would that work?”

Pope nodded as Topper started yelling from behind your group, remaining on the ground. “What’s going on? Are we doing this or not?”

“Alright, you all wait here. Me and Pope will go look for it and send a signal once we find it,” Cleo said.

Sarah glanced between the six of you with a smile on her face. “Do we actually have a plan right now?”

“Think we do.”

“For once in our lives.”

“Let’s not jinx it, come on.”

Pope and Cleo began to climb down off the train car to search further for the specific area you’d need. You, Kie, JJ, and Sarah remained in place and decided to sit until something came up. After a moment, you laid back against the cool material of the container you were on, grateful for the temperature.

“Has anyone heard from John B?” Kiara asked after a moment of waiting.

You groaned and rubbed your hands over your face before letting them flop by your sides. “Nope. Hasta la vista, JB.”

“He left a note at the Chateau that he was going with Big John, but hasn’t come back since,” JJ explained further as he leaned back against his hands. “I’m sure they’re fine wherever they’re at.”

Silence took over, all of you waiting eagerly for a sign from Cleo and Pope. Eventually, a flashlight hit your vision, all of you popping up to see Pope on the ladder, calling you over.

“That’s it!” JJ reached out a hand to pull you up just as a train horn blared.

“What’s happening?” Kiara asked as if you guys weren’t surrounded by trains that could take off at any moment.

You watched as Pope got shifted around before you realized it was the train you needed taking off. “Shit, it’s moving. We gotta go.”

The four of you clambered down the ladder as fast as possible and over to Topper’s truck. He looked extremely unamused by being dragged into this.

“Oh, hey Sarah.”

“Do you have jumper cables in there?” Sarah ignored his sarcasm and got straight to the point.

“Here I am involved in illegal activities-”

“Not that illegal.

“I’m not even close to being okay with this.”

Sarah cut him off by slamming the door shut. She had a set of cables in her hand and quickly handed them off to you. “Topper, if you don’t wanna go, it’s fine. We’ll take the truck.”

“Hey, I just wanna make sure everyone here is okay with ending up in federal prison,” Topper directed towards all of you.

JJ bit back a laugh and swung his leg over the seat of his bike, reaching his hand out to help you do the same. “Uh, if it gets to that, yeah. I’ll do it for Pope.” You gave him a soft smile and wrapped your arms around his torso, making sure the jumper cables weren’t at risk of falling.

You guys didn’t waste a second after that, JJ taking the lead while Kie, Sarah, and Topper followed in the truck. Usually, you weren’t a huge fan of JJ and the bike, but you’d grown used to it in the time you’d been together. Granted, he drove way safer with you on the back than when he was by himself, but still.

You winced as he took a corner a little too sharp, your grip tightening out of fear of falling. You didn’t go much further before JJ pulled off into a grassy patch next to the road that intersected with the tracks.

“This should be far enough.” You made it a whopping three steps before JJ tripped over nothing into the dirt below. He groaned and got back to his feet, sparing the glance to see you laughing at him. “I meant for that.”

You hummed, “Sure you did, babe. Let’s go.”

The plan was simple - use the jumper cables to reverse the charge so the train would have to stop, hopefully leaving enough time for you guys to unload the cross and get out of here. JJ connected one of the cables to the crossing lights before placing the other two on the tracks.

“Okay, now all you have to do is change the current,” He scrambled around to get everything in the right order. He was moving quickly, his brain processing faster than he thought it ever could

You looked behind you, the horn of the train getting louder by the second which didn’t help your nerves. “Please don’t get electrocuted.”

“Yeah, no promises with that.” He placed the red cable on first before clamping the black one next. The two of you looked up at the signal, anticipating the lights to change to red, but they continued to flicker green.

“Why isn’t it changing?”

“That’s literally what he would do. He would do it, and-and then it would change to red. Oh my god.” JJ started pacing in frustration as the train continued to near. “Think think think. Okay, what if I blockaded the track?”

“Jayj, no.” You crouched down by the cables, giving him a look. “How about moving the cable because the train touches both sides of the track, hmm?” You switched the red cable over to the other side before standing up. JJ’s fingers curled around your wrist in anticipation as you stared up at the crossing lights. They blinked green for another few seconds before switching to a solid red.

The two of you cheered at the color change, JJ reaching for a high five before pulling you into him for a hug. “You’re a genius.”

“Nope, it’s all you.” You kissed his cheek quickly before grabbing his hand and tugging for the two of you to duck by some nearby trees. “We gotta hide.”

It didn’t take long for the train’s brakes to kick in and start slowing down. JJ let out a small ‘yay’ once it finally stopped in front of you, hopefully giving Cleo and Pope a chance to climb off. The excitement was short-lived, however, when a service truck pulled up next to you on the main road.

“Shit, back up, back up.” JJ tugged the back of your shirt, moving the two of you further into the tree line so you weren’t in view. “This was not part of the plan!”

Two workers climbed out of the truck and started surveying the area for the possible cause. “What is this bullshit?” It didn’t take long for them to find the jumper cables attached to the tracks, both you and JJ mumbling curses when they did. They were quick to remove the cables so the crossing lights turned green.

“You’re all set over here. Some asshole put jumper cables on the tracks.”

You turned to JJ as the workers climbed back in the truck, fearful that they wouldn’t have made it. “You think that gave them enough time?” The answer to your question came in the form of the train honking that it would start moving again. “We gotta go get them.”

“There goes the plan, come on!” JJ offered his hand to get you off the ground, the two of you sprinting back to his bike. The engine kicked to life beneath you just as a familiar pickup truck came flying around the corner with a large crate in the back. “That’s Top. And that’s the cross. Get on!”

You didn’t hesitate to climb behind him, arms looped around his waist tightly before he took off behind your friends. The sound of police sirens followed not too long after, the blue lights eventually finding you before you would’ve liked.

“J!” You placed your forehead between his shoulder blades, suddenly terrified about what would come next. He was moving a little too fast for your liking, but you could tell he was trying to keep up with Topper.

“I know, I know!”

The bike moved faster beneath you, JJ guiding it to ride alongside Topper’s truck. You glanced over to see Cleo and Pope in the bed of the truck, staring right back at you. “What the hell are you doing?” Pope yelled at your boyfriend.

“Get ready to jump,” JJ yelled back at you, his eyes not leaving the road. “Top, keep going straight!”

“What?” You gaped at him, not that he could see you. Pope let out an expression of equal shock, the two of you in disbelief that JJ would actually suggest this. “Are you insane?”

“Probably,” Your boyfriend replied back, fully serious about what he was telling you to do. “Get ready to jump!”

Pope reached out towards you, Cleo right behind him as they leaned by the side of the truck bed. “Come on, come on. I’ve got you!”

You took a deep breath, slowly letting go of JJ’s waist to grab Pope’s outstretched hand. You did your best to keep JJ balanced while stepping off, your hand lingering on his shoulder until you rolled on top of the wooden crate the cross was in.

“JJ!” You screamed the second you got adjusted and watched him slow down to place himself between the truck and the oncoming cop car.

Cleo’s hand guided you into the gap between the crate and the back of Topper’s truck, all of them asking if you were okay. You barely answered, eyes trained on JJ’s form as he slammed on the brakes, using his momentum to pop a wheelie and change directions.

“What’s he gonna do?” Cleo looked at you as if you had the answer.

“I don’t know,” You choked out, “I don’t think he knows either.”

JJ moved forward slightly to pick something off the ground before gunning it full speed towards the cruiser.

“Topper!” You yelled as you watched JJ slam the rock into the cop’s windshield. The police didn’t hesitate to yank the car around to follow him instead. “We have to go back!”

“Stop the truck!” Pope and Cleo copied your idea, yelling into the small window that accessed the main cabin. You watched until you lost sight of JJ to the darkness of the night. Topper slowed down a second later. The pit in your stomach grew as he turned the truck around, racing back in the direction JJ was going in.

“Turn left!” Pope called out as a service road came up.

You could vaguely hear Sarah and Topper arguing before he listened to the change of direction. Your eyes caught sight of JJ on the road running parallel, the cops directly behind him. Your chest was aching as you watched, unable to look away no matter how much you wanted to.

Pope called out more directions for Topper, the noises turning blurry around you. Cleo’s hands latched on your shoulders, pulling you into her so you had someone to lean onto. You struggled to get air in your lungs with every inch of your body in panic mode.

You watched carefully as JJ pulled onto the overpass you were about to go under. There was a bright flash of light and the sound of a car horn before a loud screeching noise took over your senses. You could feel the truck slide beneath you, suddenly horizontal on the road.

You moved before your brain even had a chance to process what happened. “Pope, go!” Legs aching as you jumped from the tailgate, the first thing you noticed was JJ’s bike in a tangled mess just inches away from where Topper’s truck had stopped.

“JJ!” Your throat burned from the force of your scream as you tried to find any sign of him. There was busted concrete under your feet, but nothing that indicated he was even down here. “JJ, answer me! Where is he?”

Your friends descended into panic behind you, yelling out for your boyfriend. Sarah’s arms caught you the second you wavered, both of you hitting the ground harshly. You fought to get air into your lungs as you continued to look for JJ.

“Maybe he’s up on the bridge?”

“No, no, no,” You gasped for air, Sarah’s hands forcing you to put your head between your legs in an attempt to avoid you passing out. Tears burned in your eyes as you realized that was very much a crash he wouldn’t survive. “Fuck.”

The world blurred for a moment, your body numb as you tried to breathe through the panic attack. It was always so much worse when it involved JJ and any harm coming to him. You shifted, legs digging into the concrete below you as Sarah rubbed your back and tried to talk you through it.

“I wish I could say I did that on purpose, but that was the gnarliest powerslide I’ve ever done.”

The second you registered the voice behind you, air flooded your lungs as you coughed aggressively. Your head snapped up, Sarah moving to get on her feet as you turned, not trusting yourself to stand yet. God damn this boy for being so reckless.

Pope reacted first and slammed into JJ forcefully, “You’re alive!”

“Shit, that was gnarly!” Topper himself was even surprised at the sight he witnessed.

“That was trucking, dude,” JJ attempted to compliment the Kook back before he was getting attacked by Sarah Cameron’s hands against his chest. “Oh, Jesus. Oh, God.” She didn’t hesitate to bring him into a bone-crushing hug, chastising him for being so dangerous.

You stared up at your boyfriend, unable to move as you watched your friends rejoice at his presence. Moments like this were Earth-shattering to you and took a while to get through. You couldn’t brush off near-death experiences like you used to.

“As nice as these pleasantries are, we really need to move.”

Sarah reached over to you, hands pulling you off the ground to a shaky stance. JJ was there in a second, his hands replacing your best friend’s as he grasped your elbows to keep you steady. You stared right into his eyes, knowing your own were teary. You could’ve slapped him. “Don’t… don’t you ever do that again. You hear me?”

JJ pulled his lips in tightly and gave you a nod, knowing he had no room to argue. You collided with his chest a second later, a heavy sob finally making its way out as you clung to him. JJ let out a sigh, the adrenaline slowly seeping from his body as he held you against him.

“Hey! Hey, you kids, don’t move!”

JJ was grabbing your hand the split second a flashlight ran across the two of you, practically sprinting to the truck. He lifted you into the back seat next to Kiara before climbing into the bed of the truck with Pope, telling Topper to go.

You tucked your legs up onto the seat to curl into a ball, knowing the pressure was the only way to get your racing heart to calm down. Usually, this is where JJ would happily hug you senselessly, but you didn’t have time to resort to that.

“Hey, hey. You okay?” Kiara’s hand was cold on your leg, grounding.

You let a deep breath out between your lips, head leaning against the headrest as you forced a nod. “Yeah. Just gotta…gotta breathe through it.”

Sometimes it felt so silly to deal with your anxiety like this, like you were looking for constant attention and reassurance. Not that you could help it, but you wish it didn’t have to be this way. You wish losing your friends wasn’t such a big fear of yours, wasn’t a possible reality.

You filtered out the yelling that started between your friends and Topper. There was no doubt the cops were set to catch up to you. You didn’t really care how fast Topper was driving the truck, but evidently, everyone surrounding you did.

Suddenly, the vehicle hit a large bump in the road causing the wooden crate to fly from the back of the truck. Topper screeched to a stop just before everyone flew out of their various positions to check on it.

You opened your own door to meet them on the road as Pope tossed the top off to check on the cross. To your luck, it was filled with multiple tires full of concrete.

“What the hell?”

“It’s fake.”

Pope leaned down to inspect it. “It’s all freaking fake.”

“Pope, I’m so sorry,” Sarah apologized solemnly.

You sighed, knowing all of your efforts were in vain for the Heyward’s heirloom. The sound of police sirens started getting louder, which mean you needed to get back on the move.

“Y’all hear that? Okay, I can’t be here. My grandfather’s a judge.”

“Dog, would you relax?” JJ tried to get Topper to chill out. “They’re not gonna think some dude in flip-flops is part of a robbery.”

You took one last look, reassuring Pope that it would be okay before climbing back into Topper’s truck to get the hell out of there and go home.

You were exhausted by the time you guys got off the ferry. The group had practically pulled an all-nighter with the nonstop running and you were fully prepared to sleep the day away. Topper was kind enough to drop you all off at the Chateau, an awkward conversation forming between him and Sarah before you caught sight of the Twinkie in the yard.

“John B!” You took off running as your brother walked out of the screen door with a beer in hand. He very clearly didn’t expect you to come at him full speed and the drink almost slipped from his hands when you ran into him. “You’re okay.”

He stayed silent but returned the hug, making you look up at him. It was obvious to anyone that he looked exhausted. He shook his head and let you go. “You were right.”

You didn’t dare ask him to explain at the moment, not that it would’ve been possible since your father stepped out of the Chateau a second later. Your friends lost their shit, Pope and Kiara letting out bursts of excitement to see him. JJ even embraced him a second time, jumping on his back just like he would do when you guys were kids.

Everyone gave a quick recap of your time in Wilmington before John B explained the treasure hunt he went on with your dad to Charleston. “Yeah, yeah. So, we um, we went to the archives in Charleston, and, uh, it was a dead end. A dry hole. So.”

The tone of his voice was enough to tell you he was lying. You were sure your friends could pick up on it too, all of you knowing each other well enough to tell easily. Pope counted on his fingers. “So that’s the gold, the cross, and now El Dorado. We’re three for three, guys.”

You watched your dad give a subtle nod to your brother, Sarah catching it too as she glanced at him before her eyes moved to you. Why John B was lying to all of you, you had no idea. There was no doubt in your mind that it was your dad’s bidding, though.

Pope threw his beer can wildly, letting out a sarcastic cheer. “The streak continues. That’s great.”

Kie and Cleo were quick to follow him away from the house, calling out goodbyes as they passed. JJ was the next to get on his feet. “I’m going fishing. Thanks for the beer.”

You moved with him to stop him short of leaving. It would be a lie if you said you were comfortable with him walking away from you, especially with how the last few hours had been in terms of safety. “J, you sure you’re okay?”

You could tell he was forcing the smile on his face as he nodded. “I’m good, babe. Promise. Just wanna go clear my head for a few.”

“I’ll be here, okay? Come get me,” You didn’t specify for what, leaving the reason in the air. If he needed you, you’d be there, no matter what. JJ nodded and gave you a soft kiss before turning on his heels and walking away from you. “I love you!”

He paused in his exit to look back at you. “I love you more.”

JJ was one of those people who just needed space to process. You totally understood, giving it to him when he asked, but it always made you iffy that he was lying to himself. He shouldered a lot of your burden because you were comfortable sharing that with him. He wasn’t like that and dealt with it on his own. You always reminded him you would be happy to listen to anything he said, so the offer was always there.

Turning around, you could tell Sarah had the same hints about something being off based on the way she was speaking to John B. You let out a sigh and made your way inside to hopefully escape all the tension lingering. The screen door slammed a moment after you were inside. You turned to see your brother following you, his jaw clenched, whole body tense.

“Hey,” You whispered in case he didn’t want to talk about it. John B met you in the kitchen, leaning against the counter opposite you. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I think I know the answer.”

“Um, we’re leaving, again.” You weren’t surprised by his words and merely nodded in return. What you didn’t expect was for your brother to step closer with shiny eyes full of tears. “What you heard out there, it was all a lie. We found the other piece to the idol. And-and Dad gave Limbrey some fake shroud so she could walk again, and I cannot keep lying to them, Y/N!” His voice cracked on your name. There was no point in saying that you saw this coming from a million miles away.

“It’s okay, JB.” You moved forward to pull him into a hug as he let out a few deep breaths. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll figure everything out. Just, be careful, okay?”

John B was quick to agree, recomposing himself before giving you a goodbye and leaving to get in the Twinkie. You were left with the mess on your hands, stuck in the middle of your brother and your friends, just hoping things could hold on a little longer until you could find a way to fix everything.

You kept to yourself the rest of the day, taking the time to catch up on some much-needed rest and attempting to clean up the house to the best of your ability. You knew at some point shit would hit the fan again so you didn’t mind the downtime on your hands. This felt normal to you - to be home by yourself with everyone out on their own adventures. This was how everything was before your dad went missing, before you were thrown headfirst into taking care of yourself and your brother.

Eventually, the silence got to be too much and you found yourself on the path to JJ’s house in hopes to find him there. Evidently, your brother had the same idea. The Twinkie was already in sight as you walked through the grass to where you caught a view of your brother and JJ. Your boyfriend was sitting on the rotting wooden steps that led up to the patio, John B standing near the driver’s door of the van.

They both looked at you once you were close enough that they could hear your footsteps. JJ let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked back at John B. “Does she know?”

You seemed to take everything in at that moment. Your dad was nowhere to be found and if you had a say, John B looked a little worse for wear. JJ patted the spot next to him so your brother would sit and hesitantly, John B did as he asked. You stood a few feet away from them as your boyfriend rubbed his face stressfully.

“I don’t know what to do, JJ.” John B’s voice was almost inaudible. “How the hell do we get to South America?”

“No clue…but, we’re gonna figure it out. We always do.” You watched the two of them lean on each other, JJ’s arm wrapping around your brother’s shoulder. This was the John B and JJ you’d grown up with; two dumbasses where nothing mattered at the end of the day so long as they had each other. Their friendship had been poked, prodded, and pulled at over these past few months but here they were, proving all your doubts wrong.

“So. Is someone gonna tell me what the hell is going on or am I just gonna have to figure it out for myself?”

navigation -- series masterlist

tags: @strawberryfolks @jinxfirebolt18902 @lnnlove@itsmytimetoodream @dazzlingnights @ifilwtmfc @itsmytimetoodream @multiifandomhoe @tenaciousperfectionunknown

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themultifandomgal · 5 months

Text

From 2010- Rumours Turn Into A Break Up

2011

Part 11

Band members

YN YLN and Harry styles dating?

12/05/2011 4;05

Band members Harry Styles (17) and YN YLN (17) were seen cosying up together on the recent episode of Alan Carr Chatty Man.

The band One Direction came 3rd in X-Factor last year and while it looks like everyone in the band have become close friends, two in particular seem to be getting on very well. Dating rumours have only gotten stronger when the pair were seen together out in London laughing. YN was seen linking her arm into Harry’s while walking down the street.

We wonder how YN’s high school and long term boyfriend James Madison is feeling with all of these possible dating rumours.

I close down the tab on my laptop with a sigh and look up at Simon who looks pissed

“Harry and I are just friends” I say in defence

“I know that, but if girls think Harry is in a relationship then we will lose many fans. Clear this up” Simon points at me and leaves the room

“How am I supposed to clear up dating rumours? If I say that Harry and I are just friends then I will be called a liar” I throw myself back onto the sofa next to Zayn

“Just send out a tweet to appease the big man. Then ignore anything else that’s said” Louis says putting an arm around my shoulders

“I guess that’s all I can do” I say getting out my phone from my back pocket and putting out a tweet, but almost immediately I see hate coming through.

“Hey” I answer the phone to Emma sadly

“Hey YN. How are you doing?”

“Not great to be honest”

“I’m about to tell you something that’s not going to make you any happier. Sorry”

“What’s up?” I ask frowning even though Emma can’t see me

“You remember that party James went to while your were in LA?”

“Yeah”

“Well Alex told me that Mia sent him a photo of James kissing someone” I can feel my heart drop almost immediately “YN it was with a guy. I think James is gay, or curious or… I’m not really sure, but Alex sent me the photo. I can send it you, but I’m not sure you want to see that”

“No no. I trust you. Thank you for telling me. I’ll have a word with him” I glance at the bedroom door where James is

“Ok. Do you want me to come over?”

“Maybe. I’ll ring you later” I end the call and make my way to the bedroom. I stand in the door way with my arms crossed watching James on his phone

“Are you coming in or you just going to stare at me?”

“I’m just trying to decided whether I’m going to yell or cry or maybe both”

“Why?” James frowns putting his phone down

“Who were you texting?”

“Does it matter”

“Yes it fucking does matter!” I shout “who were you texting?”

“A friend”

“Girl or boy?”

“Why does that matter?” James stands up from the bed

“Because I wanna know if your cheating on me”

“Boy! Ok I’m not cheating. I’m texting a friend”

“What about the party you went to while I was in LA? Emma said you were drunk. Who did you hang around with?”

“A friend. God YN I can have friends”

“So do you kiss all your friends or just your best friends?”

“What?” James looks shocked

“I’m talking about you kissing someone! You cheated on me! How could you?” My eyes start to tear up. James looks defeated and sits down on the bed

“YN…”

“I guess I’m not your type” I laugh sadly “why did you move with me if you were just going to cheat?” James looks up at me

“I… I made a friend over here”

“A friend? Or a boyfriend? God James if you were gay why couldn’t you have just told me? We could have split up on good terms, you could have still moved in with me, but instead you cheat?”

“You were busy and I thought you’d not notice since you and Harry…”

“Are friends!”

“Don’t give me that crap. I see the way you look at him”

“Like what?” I throw my hands in the air

“You like him”

“He’s a friend, and actually a friend unlike your version where you kiss and probably do more. You know what I’m done with this conversation. We’re done” I turn and leave our apartment and head over to Harry and Louis’ place.

"Boys suck" I say walking into their place huffing as I sit in between Harry and Louis. The other boys are here also

"Gee thanks" Zayn jokes laughing, but once he sees my face he stops

"What's happened?" Harry asks frowning

“I just found out that my boyfriend would rather kiss his friends than me. His male friends by the way”

“He’s gay?”

“I think so. Maybe? I don’t care if he is, I care that cheated on me”

"Are you ok?" Liam asks and I give him a shrug

"I don't know how to feel to be honest. I think l'm pissed off more than anything”

"What a dick" Niall sighs

"I'm sorry YN" Zayn gives me a small smile

"It's ok, but thanks"

"Let's go get ice cream, watch as manny chick flicks as ya like and I'll even let ya paint me nails" Harry says standing up "tha's what girls do innit?"

“What?” I chuckle looking at Harry

"Well if Emma can't be here to cheer you up, then we will become your girlfriends for the night" I give the boys a smile feeling so happy that I have not only the best bandmates, but also best friends.

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic rec #6th one direction member #sixth one direction member #one direction x reader #one direction

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gracexthoughts · 2 months

Text

of violent delights chap 16

too sweet

7 june 1996

Euphemia’s POV

We made it back to the hospital wing last night in the nick of time and the discovery that Sirius had escaped sent Snape into a conniption. I won’t deny it was slightly amusing; while Snape tends to be nicer to me than Harry, he’s still a prick. Pomfrey let Harry, Hermione, Ron and I leave the hospital wing at noon this afternoon, although most of the students are at Hogsmeade for the last trip before the train leaves tomorrow.

Exhausted, I’ve chosen to rest instead of going to Hogsmeade. We may have gone to bed around eleven last night, but I added about 3 extra hours to my life so I feel like I stayed up most of the night but first, Harry and I decide to pay a visit to Lupin. His office door is open and as we enter, I notice most of his things have already been packed. “Hello Mia, Harry,” Lupin says before he turns to see us, “I saw you coming,” he smiles and motions to the Maruader’s Map open on his desk. He has more scrapes across his face and he looks terribly pale. “I’ve looked worse.”

“You’ve been sacked?” Harry asks, looking around.

“No, I’ve resigned. Professor Snape let slip the nature of my condition and I feel its best to get ahead. At this point, the outcome is inevitable.” Lupin sighs, taking books from the shelf behind his desk and into a case.

“That’s not fair! You didn’t hurt anyone! Maybe Dumbledore-”

“Dumbldore has already risked enough on my behalf,” Lupin interrupts me, raising a hand to stop me. “By this time tomorrow, owls will start arriving with angry letters from parents. Like I said, it is inevitable. It’s alright, let’s just say I’m used to it.”

“Doesn’t make it fair,” I sigh. “You’ll come live with us, won’t you? Now that Sirius can’t, we have the room.”

“I will visit, I promise, but I won’t stay. I have my own place in London and you don’t need a guardian anymore, Mia.” Lupin moves around the desk and leans against it to face us. “I’m quite proud of the two of you and how much you learned this year. Tell me about your Patronuses.”

Harry and I tell him what happened, both times, and what forms our charms took. “Our father, his animagus form was a stag wasn’t it?” Harry asks at the end of his story.

“Yes, that’s why we called him Prongs,” Lupin says, smiling faintly at the memory. He stands suddenly, as if just remembering something important, and moves back around his desk and hands harry back his Invisibility Cloak. “I brought this back from the Shack this morning. And, since I am no longer your teacher, I feel no guilt about giving this back to you as well,” he says motioning to the map. “I dare say that James would be very disappointed if his children never found any of the secret passages in the castle.” We all chuckle at that.

“None of it made any difference,” Harry says sadly, looking down at the cloak in his hands, “Pettigrew got away and Sirius-”

“Is alive. That makes all the difference in the world,” Lupin implores, looking very deeply into Harry’s eyes as he places a hand on his shoulder. “You did a very noble thing, stopping us from killing Peter. Your parents would have most certainly done the same, and Sirius may not be absolved but he is free. And the two of you are certain of his innocence. That, for now, is enough… Now, I must say goodbye. Send me an owl once you are settled in your apartment, okay?” Lupin asks, handing me a small piece of parchment with an address scribbled on it.

“I will,” I nod, smiling up at my godfather and he nods, picking up his suitcase and his walking stick but before he does, he turns to the map still on his desk and, with a flick of his wand, mutters “Mischief Managed,” with a nostalgic smile and leaves the office and the classroom, leaving Harry and I in his office in silence, just the two of us once again.

✦

Mattheo’s POV

I step into the already raging party, instantly hit with loud music and flashing lights, the air is thick with warmth and smoke as a majority of the student body celebrates the end of the school year. I push through the crowd until I see Theo, Enzo, Elladora and Astoria and make my way towards them.

“Hey mate, finally decided to stop moping and join the party?” Theo chuckles, lightly smacking my shoulder.

“Shut up,” I grumble and take the liquor bottle that he’s holding and take a swig.

“Why were you moping, Mattheo?” Astoria asks from the arm of the chair to my left.

“He got stood up by the princess last night,” Enzo says sitting down next to her, his comment making Theo chuckle. Enzo and Theo had been the unfortunate two that were still in the common room when I finally came back last night and I told them everything which I am now severely regretting.

“You planned a date with her?” Elladora cries, disgust on her face.

“No!” I growl, reaching around Astoria to smack the top of Enzo’s head. “We were supposed to have rounds. She bailed and I am not moping.”

Ella watches me for a moment before stepping closer and leaning up to whisper in my ear, “When she breaks your heart don’t come crying to me.” And with that, she shoves past me and further into the party.

“For the record, I think the two of you would be great together, Matt,” Astoria says, squeezing my hand for a moment.

“Yeah, The Girl Who Lived and the Heir of the Dark Lord. Common sense pairing really; what could go wrong?” Enzo mutters behind his drink, earning another smack but from Astoria this time.

“Why should that matter? The war is over and your father’s gone, isn’t he?”

“I need a drink. Feel free to stop discussing my life,” I grumble and turn away from my friends, their laughter following me. I push through the crowd towards the back wall of the room where the drink table is and at it, I see a familiar figure making a drink.

“Well, well, well, look who I found,” I say lowly in her ear, startling her and she turns to face me.

“Hey! You scared the shit outta me!” Mia says, her face lighting up with a large smile.

“Hey Princess,” I say with a small smile. She’s wearing lightly distressed jeans and a tight and cropped green shirt which makes her auburn hair look more vibrant; all this to say she looks fucking hot. “You look great,” I say, resisting the urge to tell her how good she looks in green and how lovely she’d look wrapped up in the dark green sheets of my dorm bed.

“Thanks,” she says, her cheeks flushing as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Hey listen, I’m so sorry about last night,” Mia says earnestly, “The whole thing was so much more complicated and insane than I ever could have guessed and I couldn’t get away. I’m sorry.” Her green eyes are wide and honest and all the bitterness that has sat in my chest the last 24 hours melts away.

“‘S’arlight, Mia. No big deal,” I say with a shrug, hoping I’m hiding the disappointment I felt last night.

“I’m even more sorry that my brother interrupted us yesterday,” she says, picking up the drink she had been making and taking a sip.

“We do seem to get interrupted a lot, don’t we?” I chuckle, pouring myself a cup of Firewhiskey. I tell myself that us getting interrupted is for the best but still everytime I’m left wondering what would have happened if we were left alone for another minute or twenty. “So, what happened last night that was such a mess?”

“Ugh, Godric,” she sighs with a chuckle. “It’s a very long story but it involved a secret tunnel, a werewolf, a rat, a dog and several dementors.”

“Bloody hell, what did you get yourself into this time?” I chuckle, eyes wide and Mia laughs.

“A mess for sure,” she laughs. “But it ended up being for the best, I think.”

“You didn’t have anything to do with the runaway hippogriff and Sirius Black escaping, did you princess?” I ask, stepping closer, and very intrigued at hearing her story.

“That’s preposterous!” She exclaims, sarcastically scandalized.

“Salazar, it’s a party, Potter, not school. Who actually speaks like that?” I tease.

“Huh, and here I was starting to think you liked the way I talk,” she fires back without a moment’s hesitation, her eyes flicking to my lips only for a moment.

“Hey, Mia, there you are. You said you’d be right back and I got worried. Everything okay here?” One of the Weasley twins asks, his eyes boring into me as I step back from Mia and he wraps an arm around her. Mia’s shoulders tense slightly as irritation flickers in her eyes for a split second.

“Peachy,” I deadpan, returning his gaze as I take a long sip of my drink. Interrupted, again.

“Hey, Freddie, Matt and I were just talking. Do you need a drink?” Mia says and I suppress a smile at Mia using my nickname so casually in front of Fred because it seems to cause him to bristle. Fred raises an eyebrow and looks back to me, his arm still around Mia’s shoulders casually, the sight twisting my gut into a knot.

“Oh yeah? Sure, I’ll take a drink,” he says, not taking his eyes off me as he grabs an alcoholic Butterbeer bottle but it seems like he’s had quite a few already.

“Yeah, Freddie. No need for a guard dog,” I sneer, leaning back against the table, my gaze not leaving Fred’s, jealousy raging in my stomach and chest. Fred stiffens, his jaw ticking, as Mia moves out from under her arm.

“Okay, unnecessary,” she snaps at me before looking back to Weasley. “Can the two of you cool it with whatever macho-testosterone-filled-pissing contest you’ve had going all year? Unless you’d rather go to the bathroom and measure them just to finally settle it all?” Mia snarks. “Mattheo and I are friends now, I told you that earlier, so there’s no need to be protective,” she says to Fred before turning to me, ”and there’s no need to be defensive.” She looks between the two of us, daring one of us to defy her.

“Mia, how can you be friendly with him? His father-”

“I am very aware, Fred, and if I, of all people, can move past it then certainly you can as well!” Mia fires back, interrupting Fred.

“I don’t need you to defend me, princess,” I bite out, my gut twisting more and more every time Mia looks at him. Mia turns to me, hurt hiding behind her eyes and I immediately regret saying it.

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that!” Fred snaps, reaching out to push me back but I swing on instrict, my fist connecting with his face, and force him to stumble back.

“Stop!” Mia cries, stepping between us as a crowd forms a circle around us. Mia pulls Fred’s hand away from his face, nothing bleeding but he’ll take a shiner home tomorrow. Fred pushes Mia behind him, her much smaller frame easy for him to push back as he comes to get in my face, using the inch of height he has on me to his advantage.

“You leave her alone. She has enough trouble in her life without you adding more,” he says lowly to me, trying to be threatening but, to me, the pranksters of Hogwarts are just clowns.

“Back up, Weasley, or I’ll send you home to your mummy in a box,” But I don’t get a chance to make good on my threat as Mia wrenches Fred back by his arm and starts shouting at him how she’s not a helpless damsel in distress and she doesn’t need him to protect her from anyone but I stop listening and stalk through the crowd and out of the party.

At the back of the room, there's a slightly hidden staircase that leads up to the boat house and the lake. I take the stairs two at a time, no longer in the mood for parties or people, and take a deep breath as the warm night air hits my face and enters my lungs. She’s too good for you. She’s better off without you in her life, the voice in my head reminds me, souring my mood further as I reach for a cigarette. I try to spark my lighter but it refuses to light, out of fuel, and angrily I chuck it into the water of the Black Lake, sending ripples across the otherwise still waters as I sit on the edge of the ancient dock.

I sigh, looking down at the unlit cigarette in my hand and try to snap the fingers of my free hand, desperately hoping to produce a flame long enough to spark. After a few tries, I manage it; a small but steady flame at my fingertips, the warmth dancing along my skin but not burning, and I inhale the smoke into my lungs and let the flame extinguish. The waning moon shines brightly on the surface of the lake and the hum of insects and birds and creatures fills my ears, slowly draining the angry blaze in my chest to smoldering embers.

I don’t know how long I sit here, smoking and staring at the water and thinking about Mia; the physical manifestation of all I want in the world and everything I can’t have. Of course the first girl I want more than one night with is her. She’s too good, too sweet, too gentle for the likes of me. Men like me don’t get the girl, they don’t get happy endings, they don’t get what they want and I hate myself for allowing my heart to convince my brain that I could have all that. I take a final drag of my cigarette and flick the roach into the water, sending more ripples across the surface as it floats away with my hope.

“That’s littering, you know?” A voice pulls me from the dark depths of my own mind and I turn my head to see Mia standing by the stairs.

“Gonna give me detention? Get a head start on next year?” I ask dryly, turning back to look out at the water. I hear Mia’s footsteps across the wooden dock until she appears in my peripheral and sits next to me at the edge of the dock.

“I’m really sorry about Fred. He’s drunk and he’s being stupid and protective and a jerk. He shouldn’t have brought up your dad, you don’t deserve that, I’m sorry,’’ she says, her voice soft and gentle.

“‘S fine,” I grumble, resisting the urge to look at her.

“No it’s not. He was totally out of line, that’s not okay,” she implores. When I don’t respond, she reaches out, placing her hand on my knee and setting me on fire, but I can’t give in to it, I can’t, so I pull away and stand up.

“I’m used to it. It’s whatever. Have a good summer, Potter,” I force myself to say, sparing one glance at her beautiful face clouded in hurt, before I tear my eyes away and start back towards the party.

“So that’s it?” Her voice rings out, stopping me in my tracks against my will. “The year is over and you’re just going to go back to hating me? Pretend that nothing happened this year? That something didn’t change between us? That there’s nothing here? You’re just gonna run away because you’re scared?” Hurt clouds her voice, changing it from the clear, sweet, tempting sound I’m so used to and I turn around to face her. She’s standing now, her back to the water and her hair blowing out behind her in the gentle breeze, her eyes dark in the low light but confusion shines in them. Even with her face in shadows and her features contorted by pain, she’s still the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.

“I’m not scared,” I manage to say, my fists clenched at my side.

“Then why are you acting like this? C’mon Mattheo, we’ve been towing this line for months and you’re going to just walk away? Try and make me think it's all been in my head?” She asks, moving to close some of the distance between us.

“Mia,” I breathe out, her magnetic field threatening to pull me in the closer she gets to me.

“No. Say it. Tell me it's all in my head,” she implores, looking up at me pleadingly, like I am her last life line.

“Stop.”

“I'll stop if you can look me in the eyes and tell me its all in my head...You can’t say it, can you?” She asks, now a mere breath away from me, her perfume invading my senses and it takes all of my crumpling willpower to not reach out and touch her. “You’re many things, Mattheo Riddle, but you are not a liar. Not to me. You can’t say it because you know it's not true. You’ve felt it too.”

“I’m not a good man, Mia,” I say, my voice rough. “I’m not a good person and I’m not going to pretend I am because running around pretending you are a good person is worse than just accepting you aren't one. I’m not good for you; everything I touch I break and I don’t want to break you.”

“I think you are a good person. I’ve seen it, I know it. You’re just afraid to show anyone because you think it makes you weak but it doesn’t!”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” I snap.

“Fine, then prove it!” She says so loudly it echoes over the water for a moment. We stand there for a moment completely still, our eyes locked and our breath uneven. I want nothing more than to close the distance between us but I don’t because she’s right. I am scared. I’m scared because there is no way this works out well. I’m not a good man and I’m not a good partner and she deserves the world and I could never give it to her. “Why are you so bloody stubborn?” She breathes out, shaking her head slightly before she takes a step forward and, cupping my face in her hands, presses her lips to mine and my world explodes.

All my willpower crumples under her touch and I give in; my hands find the bare skin of her waist, pulling her body closer to mine, as our lips move in tandem. All I’m aware of is her; her lips, the way she smells and tastes, and the feel of her body pressed against mine. The world could implode around us and I wouldn’t notice, all my senses are consumed with her. Her hands are in my hair, tangling with my curls and I pull her impossibly closer as my hands clutch her to me desperately; one still on the bare skin of her waist and the other on her cheek, wrapped up in strands of her hair that is as soft as I’ve always thought it looked. I kiss her like the world is ending, like a starved man who hasn’t eaten in years, like kissing her could absolve me of all the darkness in my soul and make me anew.

She pulls away slightly after a moment, both of us breathless, and I’m in awe of her like this: her lips swollen, hair tousled and pupils dilated. “Matt,” she says breathlessly and I lean back in, capturing her lips once more. I step her backwards until her back is pressed against the wall of the boathouse, eliciting a small gasp from Mia’s mouth as her bare skin collides with the cool glass. I smirk against her lips, pressing further into her body as I deepen the kiss, taking advantage of her gasp. My body takes over, no longer thinking through my actions or their consequences, and I just feel. All that exists to me in this moment is us and for once I’m not the son of the Dark Lord and she’s not The Girl Who Lived. We are just Mattheo and Euphemia, Matt and Mia, and right now that is more than enough.

a/n; ahhhh!!!

yes this is named after too sweet by hozier bc its sooooo mattheo riddle coded and fit really well and I was listening to it while i wrote this. also this gif makes me literally feral so enjoy ;)

one more chapter to go in PoA year and then we get to move on to GoF so yay!

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @stxrszurzolo @abaker74

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #matteo riddle #hogwarts #hogwarts oc #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hp fanfic #wizarding world #hogwarts houses #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #matty riddle #of violent delight

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believesthings · 29 days

Text

Not Just A Girl - Chapter 5 // Jason Sudeikis x Reader

A/N: This is a little bit of a shorter chapter but I'm excited about what's coming up in these next few chapters.

You wait while Todd finishes up a phone call for another one of his clients. When he hangs up, he smiles at you. "Okay, the apology basket has been sent over. Do you mind telling me why you felt it was such a dire need?"

You shake your head in response, "Mainly guilt. I was a bit of a wreck after eavesdropping. I ended up accidentally ending the message I was leaving for Jason right after an abrupt strong of curse words."

"Ah, say no more." Todd says holding his hands up. He knows you well enough at this point to understand. "I suppose I can forgive you for forgetting to tell me you'd gotten there alright then." Todd motions towards the stack of pages stacked up in the chair across from his desk. "Those are for you. I have a bag around here somewhere if you can't fit them in yours."

"Fan mail?" You ask, making your way towards the stack.

He nods. "Yeah." You're able to fit the pages neatly beside the script pages for the James & Mia script, which is what you've taken to calling the movie until it's given an official title.

You point to the stack that sits off in the corner that Todd has almost hidden. You can see that the one on top is addressed to you. "What about those? Might has well take as many off your hands as I can while I'm here."

Todd shares sharply at you. "No - those stay with me for now." He doesn't offer any further explanation. You're standing closer to the stack of papers than he is and he frowns when you wake your way towards it, reaching for the top letter and starting to read. He holds out his hand, urging you to give the letter back.

You feel your cheeks burning as you quickly read words addressed to you. Apparently, it's bullshit that you've been linked to multiple actors in the past few weeks, especially Jason and these people wanted to make sure you knew how they felt about it. "Oh -"

"Look, some people just..." Todd is speaking lowly now, still holding his hand out for the letter.

"That is quite a lot of hate there." He takes the paper gently from your hands and replaces it on the top of the stack that you eye with concern. "Are all of those letters like that?"

Todd turns back to you and grasps you by the shoulders. "Forget those. You can't please everybody all the time. Let's focus on the the fact that you landed the role of Mia and-" He moves you away from the letters trying to steer your attention in another direction. "Can you please promise me an alert for the next time you plan to worry Jason like that?"

You shrug, doing your best to try to forget the words you just read. "You could have told him I was getting the part. Did you know already? Wasn't that what you wanted to talk to me about?" Remembering the strangely worded text that Todd had sent you.

"No actually that notification arrived after you'd texted me." Once Todd is comfortably assured that you don't plan on diving towards the stack (although you still can't seem to shake that you've racked up an entire stack) of hate mail, he leans against the edge of the desk while he talks to you. "To redouble the happy news for the day, I've gotten confirmation from the studio that they want to do a sequel for All Your Monsters and, in so many words, they refuse to even mention your character's name unless you're willing to participate."

You squeal and jump towards him and he braces himself the incoming hug. "Oh my God Todd!" You step back again and start to pace. "What about Will is he also going to be in it? What does that mean for -"

He holds up a hand to stop you from falling to far into the rabbit hole of questions. "They've just confirmed that they want to pursue a sequel. There's a lot of details that need to be worked out before we need to start worrying about anything other than you playing the role of Mia. And for other good news, I've been looking into those rentals that you sent me. I think I have them sorted out to two good options for you - just let me know when you want to go back and double check that they would be a good fit and then we can get all the paperwork signed. "

You place your hand over your heart and give him a tender look. "Where would I be without you Todd?"

He waves his hand to dismiss you before you can get too sentimental. "You would still be here, just with a different person helping you along the way."

Todd's phone begins to ring and he glances at it before looking back up at you. You smile and pick up your bag. "I'm heading back to the hotel. Thank you for being the best agent. I really don't know how you juggle everything so well." He nods gratefully before scooping up the phone.

You're almost back to the hotel when a text arrives from Jason.

Gift basket arrived to the surprise and delight of the cast and crew. I half thought you were joking about that. They send their thanks.

You smile, happy your gesture was well received.

Another text from Jason comes in:

End of day time still looks right. How does dinner at my place sound? Will you have already eaten by then?"

Nice. Quiet. Just what you needed after the odd day you've had. You text back:

Sounds Divine. I can wait to eat. What should I bring?

Your pleased by the fact that there aren't too many photographers waiting for your arrival back to the hotel. Once you make it into the lobby, you notice that Jason has responded to your text.

Your company is all I need. See you soon.

Rather than tempt yourself to shop for things you don't really need you opt to stay in the hotel and answer fan mail. After reading how vehemently a complete stranger opposes your connection with Jason it helps to read the uplifting pages.

You estimate the travel time between your hotel and the location where Jason has been filming today and order a taxi. As you arrive, the driver notice your expression upon seeing the number of people standing on the sidewalk. "Are you alright there?"

You nod, now realizing you didn't really think this through. The taxi would need to be going to his next stop... and you weren't filming at this studio, or even with the respective company that owned it. Security would probably just think you were another respective fan trying to get a glimpse of Jason. You sigh and set your mouth in a determined line. You'd just have to wait off to the side and hope the crowd would be too occupied trying to see Jason exit the building. "Good. Thanks. How much do I owe you?"

The driver turns now to smile at you rather than look at you through the rearview mirror. "My girls love you. I guess you're here to see Jason?"

He hadn't made conversation the entire ride over so it hadn't dawned on you that he knew who you were. You adjust your hat a little. "I - yes. What are their names?" You pull a pen out of your bag and wait as he scrambles in his front seat to hand you something to sign.

"If you want," he looks away from you to the security gate, "I can see if they'll let me drop your inside?"

You shake your head. “I didn’t, we didn’t, really plan this out. I don’t know…But thanks for the offer.” You hand him back the paper along with the fare, which you now realize has been showing on the screen in front of your knees. He looks hesitant to let you out of the cab but doesn’t protest as you slide out of the seat onto the sidewalk. You wave to him in thanks and watch the taxi roll away from the curb.

Ok, now what. You again play with the notion of walking over to introduce yourself to security. You tap out a quick message to Jason.

Just arrived. A bit early. Oops.

You are adjusting your cap and about to walk up the sidewalk towards the studio when you hear a whoop. Someone shouts your name excitedly and you, without really thinking, look for the source. Now more faces are turning to see what the excitement is, and you note security is following the gaze of the few that were shouting your name. Well, this is one way to start the night. A guard reaches you after you’ve signed a few photos that had been thrust into your hands. Though patient to allow you to greet the first few individuals that had met you, the guard doesn’t let you linger long.

Someone from the crew is waiting to take you to Jason's dressing room. “He’s just cleaning up. Thanks for the goodies, by the way.” She knocks lightly on the door marked Sudeikis and you hear a muffled response. She motions for you to go on in with a wave of her hand before walking back down the hallway.

You can smell the soap he’s just used to wash, and note he is quickly pulling a shirt over his head to be presentable for whomever is coming to talk to him. Dear Lord the man has more muscle definition than you thought. His hair is now mussed from pulling on his shirt. You grin and stand in the doorway, waiting for him to see that it is you.

All he has to do is smile to propel you across the small space and into his arms. “How was the rest of your day?” With your ear to his chest his words reverberate around in your head.

You reply without moving, “Fine. Better. Good. Brett is going to be in the James & Mia movie with me!”

Jason uses one hand to flip your hat off your head that you ah, had forgotten that you were wearing. He kisses the top of your head before speaking again. “He sent me a text just after I had hung up with you. They evidently wrote the part with him in mind but then found him unavailable, until recently.” He grins as you step away from him with the intent of letting him finish getting ready to leave the building. He doesn’t let you get far, keeping one arm around your waist and pulling you back against him. “And here I thought I’d been the clever one, finding my way around those walls you’d constructed.” You stand on tiptoe to kiss him. Your fingers find that his hair has nearly dried. “I’m glad you came inside. This is a much better hello.”

You laugh and murmur a hello into his lips. This does remind you of the crowd waiting outside though. You press your hands lightly to his chest and lean back in his arms to look at him while you speak. “The taxi dropped me off and well, I got to say hello to some of your fans before a guard came to get me.”

“I asked the guards to be on the lookout. You could have gotten the driver to go up to the gate, though I’m sure the fans enjoyed seeing you. Hopefully they are our fans and not just my fans… ”

Knocking at the door frame precedes the rapid-fire stream of words altering you to company. The man that walks through the open door pauses a few paces and several sentences in. “Jason! You, my friend, never cease to amaze. We of course have – oh. Sorry the door was open and I figured I’d steal a moment.”

Jason releases your waist allowing you to settle back into a standing position next to him, much to the relief of your arches. Clearly you are going to have to practice standing on the balls of your feet. Jason introduces you to Theo, another actor on the project, and Theo gives Jason a wink before shaking your hand, then pulling it to his lips to peck it as Jason had done the night of the awards show.

“So – this is the lovely woman that we’ve heard so much about.” Theo switches commenting from Jason to you. “I’ve never seen him so transfixed."

You’re starting to blush.

“I’ll leave the pair of you to it…” He accompanies the comment with a wriggle of his eyebrows which makes you blush more. He calls out behind him as he clears the doorway, “Practicing sparring tomorrow buddy!”

“Whew. After that - I feel like I’m moving in slow motion. He rivals you for boundless energy!” You say, motioning after the human whirlwind that just departed.

“Do I make you feel like you’re in slow motion?” Jason asks waving your hat at you that he still holds in one hand.

You nod and move to reclaim said item. “Sometimes…” He grins and puts your hat on his head which, unless he starts cooperating, effectively removes it from your reach. You study him a moment with your hands on your hips before shrugging. “Well, the studio will surely love the endorsement.”

Jason takes a brief survey of the dressing room before nodding, which you take to be a signal that he is ready to leave. In the hallway you take a few steps towards the direction of the studio exit and pause to wait until Jason is at your side. His hand finds yours as you walk, "I meant what I said before Theo arrived, you know."

Nodding, you squeeze his hand lightly, "I know, but if I had gotten the taxi to go through the gates I wouldn’t have been able to…” Jason pulls you up short, laughingly wrapping his arms around your waist and shaking his head. You smile, though the cutting words of the letter you found in Todd's office still blaze in your head. “Jason, we can’t expect everyone to be happy that we’re dating."

"I can and I will.” Playfully defiant, Jason mutters the words into your ear before landing a light kiss just below it. He straightens and takes you by the hand again to resume your progress towards the fans, the waiting car, and home. “For my money, the world can think what they want, but the only woman whose feelings on the subject truly matter to me will be dining with me tonight."

You’re tempted to once again provide a smart retort - remind him of his family or yours - but opt, instead, to swoon.

Tag List: @my-soupy-brain @tegan8314 @tortilla-maria1 @nerdgirljen

#Jason sudeikis #Jason Sudeikis x reader #Jason Sudeikis rpf #Jason Sudeikis fluff #x reader #Jason Sudeikis fanfiction #Jason Sudeikis fanfic #Jason Sudeikis fic #Jason sudeikis blurb #rpf #not just a girl

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btsgotjams27 · 1 year

Text

this is us ~ jjk | 11

you receive an unexpected call.

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, bff's younger brother ✨ playlist ✨ a/n: if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) you can read them here on AO3 & Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 12 ~ i do

chapter eleven ~ the call | wc: 7.8k warnings: yuna smacks jungkook upside the head, jungkook hates himself, yuna has an accident, hospitals, oc has a heart-wrenching convo with her mom, oc briefly talks to jungkook's mom (who's the complete opposite of her mom), angst and more tears

One week. One week without Jungkook by your side. It felt weird. Like a massive part of your life had disappeared.

No tattooed arm draped over you. No warm body to snuggle you from behind. No 'I-need-you-at-3-am-sex'. No coffee or breakfast ready to go once you woke up. No late-night ramen talks. You were met with nothing but silence. It's like your world suddenly stopped. The routine you came to know and love, the physical presence of Jungkook--gone.

The week had passed by much slower than anticipated because you didn't know what to do with yourself. Hyunie had gone MIA. Yuna was pregnant and tired all the time. And then you realized that pretty much concluded your circle of friends. Once you passed the age of thirty, honestly, out of college, it was so much harder to make friends. Everyone was always busy doing their own thing, and you didn't care about befriending hundreds of people. You preferred having a few close friends that knew you well and that you could confide in. But once Jungkook was out of the picture (for now), you realized how lonely you were.

Saturdays were laundry days and as you stuffed your clothes in the washer, sitting at the bottom was Jungkook's hoodie. You stared at it, debating if you should wash it because it wouldn't smell like him anymore if you did. So, you opted to leave it alone, and you'd figure out what to do with it later.

While waiting for the laundry, you sat on the couch looking around, seeing traces of you and Jungkook throughout your place. You wondered if it was too early to start taking pictures down. The two of you technically weren't broken up, just on a break - figuring out the next steps. But you couldn't lie, it was hard to see his face scattered through your apartment. You weren't sure what you wanted; all you knew was that you wanted Jungkook, but how could you be with someone who kissed and touched someone that wasn't you?

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, and a notification appeared. A small part of you wanted it to be Jungkook checking up on you because you hadn't heard from him since he left, but you also knew that he was getting ready to go on a trip with Namjoon and Jin, so he probably wouldn't have time.

You picked up your phone and saw it was Yuna, asking how you were doing and if you needed anything. Funny because you should be asking her since she was pregnant, which warranted more concern than a broken heart. This past week, more than usual, she sent you an obscene amount of TikTok videos of silly and funny things, which did help you get your mind off Jungkook for a little bit. You were just happy to laugh again.

You 11:27 AM I'm doing fine. Thanks for checking up on me. I don't need anything, but I know the boys are going on their trip today, so text me if you need ice cream or something lol.

Yuna 11:30 AM We could eat ice cream together if you want. I'll text you whenever they leave so you don't have to see...you know...

You 11:32 AM Thanks for the offer but I might just stay home if that's okay. But please text me if you need anything, 'kay? Love you.

As you set your phone down, another buzz came in. You thought it was Yuna again trying to convince you to hang out, but to your surprise, it was none other than Kenji.

Kenji 11:34 AM Just checking in to see if you've made a decision yet. The clock is ticking. ��⌛

Honestly, your show was the last thing on your mind, but you tossed the idea back and forth about working with Kenji. You wondered if you agreed to it if Jungkook would think you were only saying yes to spite him. But in reality, that was hardly the case. Considering what your story was about and Kenji's type of director, he would be the perfect man for the job. He'd be able to push you and the story into something extraordinary. It would be worth it to work with him despite what Jungkook thought.

You 11:40 AM You gonna be on your best behavior if I say yes to you?

Kenji 11:45 AM 😁😁😁 Let's get to work baby!

You 11:47 AM 😑😑😑

Kenji 11:48 AM I promise I'll be good. Don't want your boyfriend to come beat me up.

And there you go again, your eyes beginning to well up at the mention of Jungkook. It didn't take a lot to get you crying these days.

An hour later, the washer began singing its melodious song, letting you know that your laundry finished. You began to unload your clothes, hanging them over the drying rack. You looked at the bottom of the basket once more, picking up the hoodie at the bottom. You held it tight, bringing it to your nose before taking a small sniff. If someone were you catch you right now, they'd probably think you were weird. But the faintest smell of Jungkook still lingered on it. He always preferred softer scents which you grew to love too.

You found yourself practically hugging the black piece of clothing, then undoubtedly, you slipped it on over your head, cozying into the soft cotton. It felt like a warm hug from him. You wonder if he missed you as much as you missed him, and then the thought of Jungkook overwhelms you again.

The rest of the day dragged on as you mindlessly cleaned your apartment, even though it was already spotless. You didn't want to go out because it reminded you that you had no one to go out with.

You crawled into bed at the night's end with Jungkook's hoodie still on. Pathetic, you know, but you couldn't help it. Laying in bed, you scrolled through your phone, looking at his old text messages and pictures. It became a nightly routine once Jungkook left.

You clicked off your screen, groaning at the fact that you were torturing yourself by scrolling through photos. You pressed the side button to check the time, and your lock screen illuminated a picture of you and Jungkook at Yuna's wedding, dancing and smiling like nothing was wrong with the world. This moment captured in time what seemed felt like a lifetime ago. It was as if you were staring at two completely different people. Those two dancing away were happy, maybe even naïve, full of hope and love. The screen darkened, and now it was only a reflection of you, teary-eyed again like you had been all week. You wiped away the tear pooling in the corner of your eyes.

Setting your phone on the table, you turned away, laying on your side, hugging a pillow. Not a minute later, your phone began to ring. Picking up, you didn't recognize the number but figured you should answer anyway in case it was an necessary.

"Hello?"

Namjoon, Jin, and Jungkook planned a guy's weekend trip to Namjoon's parents' cabin. The same place you and Jungkook went with Hyunie, Jimin, and Taehyung.

The dread on Jungkook's face was apparent when he walked through the threshold to his sister's place. He knew she'd beat him if she could. He was packed and ready to go, just stopping to pick up Namjoon and Jin.

Namjoon immediately greeted Jungkook when he came in, telling him he was almost ready. Yuna was on the couch, watching TV, glaring while he sat beside her.

"Jungkookie, can you get the remote for me? I can't reach it." Yuna reached her hand out, but the protruding belly was in her way.

He reached for the remote, handing it to her. But Yuna gestured for him to come to her.

"There's something in your hair," Yuna squinted, tilting her head. She continued to glare at her brother.

His hands reached up, touching his dark locks. "Where?"

"Nope, still there. Come here. I'll help."

Instead of helping, she lightly smacked him upside of his head, earning an 'ow' from him.

"What the hell, Noona?"

"That's for cheating on my best friend," she scowled, crossing her arms. If only she could say what was on her mind, this was mild compared to the things running through it. She had a lot more up her sleeve, but considering you were both hurting, she'd keep some things to herself. If only Jungkook saw the aftermath of when you told her and then when she blew up after telling Namjoon what happened. She clenched her jaw and curled her fist, and with every fiber of her being, trying not to become violent.

He massaged the spot she hit and didn't bother to argue because he knew he needed a good scolding from his big sister.

Yuna's voice became shaky. "How could you do this to her? To your relationship? You guys were doing well, and I thought you were getting ready to propose. What happened?"

She didn't understand what had gone wrong. She thought he was completely head over heels in love with you. But all it took was one person to come back and ruin everything.

After he had spoken to Namjoon and Jin at the housewarming party, he may or may not have started to shop around, looking for rings. He even secretly measured your finger while you were sleeping, trying to get your ring size. Lucky for him, Jungkook got Yuna's opinion on a few different options he had picked out.

Jungkook sat slumped over on the floor next to Yuna, burying his head in the crook of his arm. Yuna felt guilty for hitting her baby brother, but he deserved it. She softly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Jungkook-ah..." Yuna mumbled. He hummed back, not turning to her. "Please fight for her. I can't lose her," she said with a shaky voice.

As much as Yuna disliked your and Jungkook's relationship in the beginning because she didn't want to see her brother get hurt. She overlooked the fact that Jungkook could hurt you too. Her brother would always be around, he's family--so she could never get rid of him, but you...you could easily drift away because it would hurt too much to be around Jungkook. And she wouldn't blame you if you never wanted anything to do with their family again. But the thought of losing you and not going through big life events together pained Yuna. The two of you have been through thick and thin, but she wasn't sure if your friendship could survive this one.

Jungkook finally gazed at his big sister, eyes teary, nostrils flaring rapidly, ready to burst into tears. He'd been crying every day since he left your place. "Noona...I don't--I don't know how to fix this."

The pad of Yuna's thumb wiped away a tear from Jungkook's eyes. "It's going to take time. Give her time."

Time. It was the one thing that Jungkook feared. Time apart could either make the heart grow fonder or make you drift from him. It could make you realize that what you wanted was not him but something better, someone better. He had thrown everything out the window, and for what? A moment of weakness struck him at the worst time. It was one thing he'd never forgive himself for.

"You ready?" Namjoon asked, not realizing the serious moment his wife and brother-in-law were having.

Jungkook quickly wiped away his tears, pretending he was okay with a smile. He stood, ready to head out.

"Jungkookie," Yuna called out, and he turned to her, "Everything's going to be okay."

He was thankful that his sister was hopeful but considering all the shit you've been through with previous boyfriends. He could see why you compared him to them, and he wasn't any better as much as he tried to justify it.

The boys' weekend trip would be better if it weren't for this dark, looming cloud over Jungkook. He didn't know how to fill this gaping hole within himself. He was a mess, unsure of what to do with himself or who he was without you by his side. To distract himself, he worked tirelessly on the project he was in charge of at work, and he played games until he was exhausted and ultimately passed out. It helped somewhat to keep his mind off you, but every night he'd wake up in a cold sweat, wondering where you were, and then the cycle of trying to keep you off his mind repeated.

The cabin was exactly like Jungkook remembered, but spring had sprung instead of light snow piles on trees and the patio. Life was evident here and there throughout the fields the cabin was facing - flowers blooming, birds chirping like nothing was wrong with the world. But not in Jungkook's world - his had turned upside down.

Jin immediately claimed the loft bedroom, which Jungkook didn't mind. There were too many memories of you and him - kissing, touching, fucking, and it was too much for him. Barely there for thirty minutes, and the only thing that consumed his mind was you. Honestly, you were the only thing taking up space in every corner of his mind, body, and soul.

Jungkook walked out to the patio, nursing his beer, watching the sunset color the sky, a beautiful palette of apricot and lilac and marshmallow clouds soft enough to sleep on. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before letting out a shaky one. His heart was burdensome as to what the next steps with you were. He didn't know if there would be any future with you - he sure as hell wouldn't want anything to do with himself after his actions. He broke your trust, lost your respect, and he lost his integrity and sense of dignity. Even he wasn't sure how he would redeem himself.

"Jungkook-ah--" Namjoon broke him out of his thoughts, "Dinner's ready."

The three ate silently, and all sensed the elephant in the room.

Jungkook was tired of the lack of words and patronizing stares, so he set down his chopsticks and glared at the two men at the table. "Spit out whatever you want to say," he huffed, not that he was eager to hear them scold him.

They looked at him, going about eating their food, both unwilling to speak what's on their mind.

"Come on, yell at me. Hit me. Please tell me how stupid I am. Tell me how much I fucked this up," Jungkook declared, nervously tapping the table. He deserved it. He deserved being told he's an asshole. He deserved being told that he wasn't worthy of you.

"You're being a bit dramatic, Jungkook-ah," Jin argued. Although he may have disagreed with how his friend handled things, it didn't warrant a punch to the face, even if he wanted to.

"What about you, huh?" Jungkook directed it to Namjoon. "I'm sure Yuna told you everything."

He sighed, setting his chopsticks aside. "Will us telling you off make you feel better about yourself?" he inquired. Namjoon shook his head, returning to pick up his chopsticks to finish his dinner. He understood that Jungkook was in a tough spot, but Namjoon thought the young man was too hard on himself. Namjoon certainly wasn't excusing his actions but thought Jungkook should be gentle with himself too.

Jungkook shrugged. "Maybe." As if Jungkook wasn't already wallowing in self-pity and deprecation since Alex showed up - he needed more, others telling him how worthless he was.

"Have you thought about why you did what you did? Are there underlying feelings for Alex? Is there something you're not happy with in your relationship with Y/n? Something you want but she can't give you, and maybe that's why you did what you did with Alex?" Namjoon asked, wanting the young man to think about his motives.

"No--I don't even like Alex. She's the worst person I've ever come to know.

"O-kay...then why did you kiss her? Touch her?" Jin asked, confused by the contradiction of his words versus actions.

Jungkook rubbed his face and groaned in frustration. "I DON'T KNOW!" The young man cried out, then apologized for getting upset. "I'm not mad at your questions. I'm mad at myself. I fucking hate myself."

A beat passed before he continued.

"Maybe...maybe it's because I don't have all of Y/n. It's like I do, and I don't at the same time. You know? I feel like I give her all of me, but there are still some parts of her that she's hiding, afraid to share with me. I've been patient in letting her tell me things when she's ready, but sometimes I don't understand why she doesn't trust me with whatever it may be. Am I too young or immature? I've tried to show her that I'm good enough, but...I don't know. Maybe that's why I kissed Alex. Maybe that's why I gave in."

Jin and Namjoon quickly glanced at each other. The two of them discussed this privately in the presence of Yuna after everything went down. They had suspected this was the case. Namjoon knew about your miscarriage and reproductive issues, but he promised his wife he wouldn't tell a soul what he knew.

Jungkook stared at his two friends, probably dismissing him in their heads. "You guys think I'm the scum of the earth, huh?" The younger man implored.

"We didn't say anything," Namjoon said, looking away from Jungkook and at his plate of food.

"You don't have to. Your silence is deafening," Jungkook stated, scooting his chair back, causing a screech against the wooden floors. He stood, walked, and placed his plate in the sink, turning on the water to begin washing his dishes. For some strange reason, Jungkook always found solace in washing dishes. He could mindlessly clean while warm water ran and soapy bubbles on his skin.

Jin and Namjoon cleared their plates and brought them to Jungkook. Jin leaned against the counter, watching the young man beat himself again.

"Hyung, what am I gonna do?" Jungkook asked, hands under the running water, scrubbing away the dirty dishes.

Jin crossed his arms. "Well, what exactly did she say?"

"She said she wanted to take a break. I have no idea what that means or what it entails. Like, can I still call her? See her? Kiss her?"

He shook his head. "You probably shouldn't kiss her no matter how much you want to. You need to give her space to figure things out. She's hurt by the one person she loves, and it will take time to trust you again."

"What if I lose her in the process? What if she never trusts me again?" Jungkook paused, scrubbing the plate to gaze up at Jin. His mind already went to the worst possible scenarios, replaying over and over again this past week - you breaking it off and leaving him, maybe never wanting to speak or see him again. You'd always been a part of his life in some way or another, and a world where the two of you wouldn't collide, made him sick to his stomach.

Jin stood beside his friend, rubbing his shoulders. "Only time will tell."

Again, with 'time.' Jungkook was starting to hate the four-letter word. T-I-M-E. He wishes he could fast forward to when he could be with you again. But he'd wait a lifetime if he had to.

The night had gone by quickly. Jungkook didn't want to spoil the rest of their weekend there, so he figured he should stop pouting and talking about you every chance he got. He was sure everyone was tired of him pouring out his broken heart.

The three of them were heading to bed when Namjoon's phone began buzzing in the pocket of his sweats. He reached in, pulling it out, frowning at the screen. He never answered what looked like spam but picked up anyway.

"Hello?" Namjoon answered. "Yes, this is he." Namjoon's eyes quickly darted to Jin and Jungkook, then to the ground.

The voice on the other line was muffled, and Jin and Jungkook couldn't hear anything.

Namjoon's eyes widened. "What?!" his voice grew louder, "Yes, I'm a few hours away, but I'll have someone come down right now. I'll be there as soon as I can. Thank you."

Jin and Jungkook looked at him with worried eyes. Namjoon hung up and immediately brushed past the two toward the bedroom.

"Hyung, what's going on?" Jungkook asked, chasing after him, and Jin followed closely behind.

"It's Yuna. She fell, and she's going to the hospital. I'm sorry, guys. We gotta go back," Namjoon said, grabbing his bag and franticly searching the room for anything he needed to take.

Jungkook could see Namjoon's hands shaking while holding his duffel bag. "Hyung--Noona's gonna be okay. I promise."

Namjoon nodded at the young man's sentiment.

"I'll get the car," Jin said before taking off.

"Call Y/n. She can get there the fastest," Jungkook stated.

Namjoon agreed, grabbing his phone to call you.

Walking into the dim, cold hallway, you weren't sure what to expect once you passed through the double doors. The low hum of beeps echoed when you walked the hallway, the heel of your boots softly clicking with every step. You stopped to take a deep breath before walking through the threshold. The first bed in the room was empty, and a divider covered the second. You sat on the chair in front of the bed, staring at the one person who despised you but had to call family.

Hello, is this the daughter of _____ ______?

"Yes, this is she."

This was a call you were not expecting when you picked up.

Your mother has been in an accident, and you were listed as the next of kin. If you could please come to the hospital, we need to sort out some paperwork for her.

"Okay, yes, I'll be there."

You never liked hospitals - they always brought bad memories. The first time was your father's sudden heart attack, which led to his death, then all the personal shit you had to deal with.

You hadn't spoken to her in months. The last conversation took a turn for the worst, and she revealed secrets she'd been keeping for all of your life - a conversation you've been keeping to yourself because you didn't have the heart to tell Yuna or Jungkook. You weren't sure what to do with this secret, so it had become a secret you had buried.

This was the only time you ever saw your mother peaceful when she was sleeping. You watched her, trying to shift into a comfortable position, but her arm sling didn't allow her. She tossed and turned from side to side, finally peering her eyes open to see you sitting in front of her. She didn't say anything but groaned at your presence.

"It's nice to see you too, mother," you said sarcastically.

She tried her best to turn away from you, but the pillow behind her was obstructing her arm, so she could not move it back. You knew she wouldn't ask for help, and she was always stubborn and had to do everything herself. But she needed assistance, so out of the goodness of your heart, you stood by her bedside, removing the second pillow and placing it under her arm to keep it elevated.

"What are you doing here?" your mother asked with malice, turning away from you to peer outside the darkened window.

"The hospital called asking me to come down," you replied. This was the last place you'd expect to see your mother, but given that she was your only "family," you figured you should at least check to see if she was alright, it was the least you could do.

"Well, I'm fine, so you can go. I don't need you."

"Suit yourself. Good luck getting home," you huffed at her comment and shook your head, letting go of the railing on the bed. You spun around, ready to leave her to her demise. If she was going to be a heinous bitch, when you were the product of something you had no control over, then you wanted no part of her life. You'd been fine figuring out everything on your own, so you didn't need her.

You had no problem walking away. She didn't deserve your kindness or sympathy. If she wanted to blame you for everything that happened between her and your father, that was on her, not you. You had no control over the actions of your father or what kind of relationship they had. So you didn't need to put up with any more of her bullshit.

You entered the hallway, ready to never see your mother again, but you stopped in your tracks, fists, and jaws clenched, retracing your steps back towards her room. Your phone buzzed in your bag, breaking you out of your moment of anger. You knitted your brows when you looked at Namjoon's name lighting up on your phone screen. "Namjoon?"

"Hey, Y/n, not sure if you got my texts, but I decided to call you too. Are you at the hospital?"

"I'm here. Why?" You were confused. You didn't tell anyone you were there. Not even Yuna knew.

"Oh, you are! Good. How's Yuna doing?" Namjoon asked with relief in his voice.

Your eyes suddenly widened. "Yuna? What do you mean? Is she okay?"

"You're...not with her?"

You cleared your throat, hesitant to say why you were at the hospital. You paused briefly before answering, "I'm with my mom..."

"Oh, um, Yuna fell, and we're trying to get back to the city, but we can't because some big tree fell, and they're trying to clear it, but I don't know when they'll be done. When you have a chance, can you check up on her?"

"Yes! Of course, I'll finish up with my mom and find out where Yuna is."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're such a lifesaver. I don't know what I'd do without you. I'll call you later to give you our ETA."

There was a weird twinge in your heart when Namjoon said that - don't know what I'd do without you. With everything going on with Jungkook, you realize that if you slowly drift apart from Yuna, you could also lose your friendship with Namjoon and maybe even Jin. You could potentially lose Jungkook, but you could also lose your friends.

"Bye, Joon," you said before ending the call.

You peered at your phone and then at your mother's room. You didn't want to deal with her and would do it later.

"Yuna--babe!" you cried out, rushing to her side, your eyes raking over her, seeing her ankle bandaged up. "What happened?"

"I was clumsy because, hello," she pointed to her belly, "pregnancy has somehow turned me into my clumsy husband. I rolled on my ankle and fell, but I'm fine. Baby's fine too."

You leaned over, pulling her close against your chest. "Geez, you scared me. Us," you emphasized the last part because you were sure Namjoon was losing his mind not being here, which reminded you to call him back before he went ballistic.

"I'm fine," Yuna said, shifting to her previous position. She caressed her baby bump, then tilted her head at you. "How did you get here so fast?"

You flashed her a thin smile, then drew in the chair behind you. "I, uh, my mom is here. She also had an accident."

"Oh my gosh. Is your mom okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine."

"You should go be with her. You must be so worried."

Was this the right time to tell Yuna everything your mom had spilled to you a few months ago? About who your 'real' mother was? Now was as good a time as any. You're not sure why you'd need to keep this from your best friend.

"I have something I need to tell you," you looked up at Yuna, and she had nothing but concern in her eyes, waiting for you to continue. "So, you know how my mom has never shown me any kind of love throughout my life?" Yuna nodded and hummed. "Well, it turns out I'm actually not her daughter, and that's why she hates me so much."

Yuna gasped and covered her mouth. "What? What do you mean?"

"It turns out my dad had an affair with someone early on in their marriage, and it resulted in me," you sighed, "Long story short, my birth mom died, and my dad and mom were stuck with me." You looked at Yuna and could already see the pity in her eyes, which was probably one reason you avoided telling her. Your life was a shit show, so growing up, you preferred being at Yuna and Jungkook's. It was a nice escape from your crappy life.

"Good god--" Yuna huffed. She clenched her jaw, her heart racing. "That doesn't give her the right to treat you like she has. I'm sorry, but she's a despicable human being."

You agreed. Your mother was something alright...she wasn't the best, but what you hated most about yourself because you always tried to put yourself in the other person's shoes - to see their viewpoint. Though you weren't trying to excuse your mother for how she's treated you, you understood to an extent what she must have felt while raising you - having to see the result of her husband's infidelity every single day of her life.

"Don't you dare try to excuse her shitty job as a mom," Yuna cried out. She definitely knew you too well.

"I'm not."

"...how long have you known?"

"For a while now," you said, nervously biting your lip.

"Does Jungkook know?" Yuna probably shouldn't have brought up her baby brother, but she couldn't fathom you bearing this secret all on your own.

You shook your head. There were still plenty of things you needed to tell Jungkook but wondered if there was any need to now.

"Thank you for telling me. I'm sorry you had to go through this by yourself."

"It's fine," you said, feeling bad about how this somehow turned into a show about you when it was Yuna in the hospital.

"No, it's not," Yuna asserted. "I love you, Y/n. You're like a sister to me, and you're family. You've been with me through thick and thin, and I will not forget that. But I need you to promise me something," she said, waiting for you to acknowledge her, which you hummed in response. "I need you to stop holding things back from me, no matter how hard it is. I know you don't like sharing your burdens, but I'll always bear them with you. You never have to walk through it alone."

Your chest began to swell at your best friend's words. You've never wanted to dump your problems on someone else for fear of them being annoyed with you whining and pouting. Maybe it was the lack of parents that made you feel unsafe enough to share yourself with others - fully share yourself.

You could feel your eyes glistening once more. You couldn't help but be such an emotional wreck. As much as you hated crying, you always felt better after doing it.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. After Jungkook and I started seeing each other, maybe even before then, like during your wedding planning, I felt I had lost your trust because I wasn't upfront about liking Jungkook. You probably noticed me not coming to you as much when I had something on my mind. I didn't feel right because I knew I hurt you and didn't know if we could go back to the way things were."

Your sudden confession felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and as you got older, you understood that not all friendships would look like they used to. Did you miss the times you had with Yuna before Jungkook? Yes, but you had good moments with her after Jungkook too.

"I don't want to go back to the way things were," Yuna stated, holding out her hand for yours, "I know I don't say this as much as I should, but Y/n...you don't realize how strong you are. I've never known anyone like you through all the years I've known you. You've been dealt a shitty hand in life, but you always overcome them. You're level-headed, think about your choices very carefully, and are slow to anger, and I know you always have that little voice in your head making you second-guess yourself. Know that your choice will always be the right one for you."

"Are you trying to make me cry right now?" you chuckled, patting the tears running down your cheeks. "Thanks, I needed to hear that."

Yuna laughed. "I love you," she said, squeezing your hand.

You stood beside her bed, leaning over to hug her. "Love you too friend."

The two of you talked for a while longer before Yuna fell asleep. You told her you'd stay until Namjoon came so that he could switch places with you. The TV quietly played in the background, and you mindlessly watched whatever was on - an old episode of a variety show. You softly chuckled at the game they were playing.

"Hi, sweetheart," said a voice from behind.

You looked up to see Yuna and Jungkook's mom. It's been a while since you last saw her, but you always loved their mother, and she felt more like a mother to you than your own. You stood up to bow, but she pulled you in for a hug.

"It's so good to see you, honey," she said before pulling away, getting a good look at you. She cupped your cheeks, and her hands were a bit icy from the cold night. "You get more beautiful every time I see you," she said with a big smile, gently patting your cheek. You mumbled, thanks flashing a thin smile. "How's my baby girl and grandchild?"

"They're both doing good. Just a few bumps, but the doctor said it was nothing to worry about. They'll keep her here for observation for precaution."

"Ah, that's good to hear," she said as she sat in the empty chair next to Yuna's bed. She took Yuna's hand in hers before flicking her eyes to yours. "How are you and Jungkookie?"

Jungkook's mom never opposed your relationship. It was quite the opposite which was a surprise. She supported the two of you one hundred percent. She even told you she would tease Jungkook about his crush on you when he was younger, asking him when he would finally confess his feelings for you. But of course, she wouldn't know about the current state of your relationship because who would've told her? Certainly not Jungkook himself.

You cleared your throat, debating whether to lie or tell her the truth. "We're um...taking a small break from each other right now," you explained, shuffling over to the other side of Yuna's beside.

"Oh, sweetheart," she looked at you with sorrowful eyes. "Do you need me to beat him for you?" she teased with a light chuckle, making you snort.

"I think Yuna already did," you said, staring at your best friend, sleeping peacefully.

"Ah, good, I'm glad someone did it."

"I'll leave you here with her. I have to go see someone."

"Your mother?"

Your eyes perked up, and you nodded. "How did you know?"

"I heard her yelling at a nurse while coming up to see Yuna, and I stopped to see the commotion."

Oh god. Not Jungkook's mother talking to your mother. "I'm sorry if she said anything to you about Jungkook and me."

She shook her head. "You have nothing to worry about, sweetheart."

Your lips thinned, wondering what they could have talked about. Was your mother completely vile like she usually was? You hoped it wasn't the case and your mother would have some respect for Jungkook's mother. They were, in fact, friends once before.

"I'll be back," you smiled at her. You were thankful that you had someone like her who loved you even though you weren't hers.

You took time walking to your mother's room, thinking about what you wanted to say. Honestly, you had a lot you wanted to say, but if she were determined not to be a part of your life, you wouldn't stop her.

You could hear the light chatter and laughter from the TV show resounding as you approached the room. Your mother was watching one of her favorite variety shows. When you were younger, you'd often find yourself sitting next to her, laughing along - it was the only time she'd bear your presence. You walked in, and your mother was sitting, smiling, laughing away at the show until she saw you standing. She acknowledged your presence for a moment before returning to her show.

You took it upon yourself to sit in the chair beside her bed. Nervously, you licked your lips and shuffled in your seat until you found a comfortable position. Your mother stared at you, wondering why you were there.

"I would like it if you took a moment to listen to what I have to say, and then you'll never have to hear from me again, okay?"

She didn't respond, but her eyes returned to the screen in front of her. You sighed, annoyed at her lack of response.

"My whole life, all I ever wanted to do was make you proud," you chuckled, realizing how silly it sounded because it was an impossible feat, "I'm sorry I wasn't the daughter you wanted but the one you were stuck with. If I could go back and change things, I would." She glanced at you briefly. "I'm sorry that you weren't happy in your marriage, and what dad did to you was unfair. If there's one thing I learned from you, it's that you're strong, and I'd like to think that I got that from you," your voice started to become shaky. "I don't know what your life was like before, dad, and I don't know what your life will look like now, but I do hope that you find happiness because you deserve it. You were robbed of a beautiful marriage. You were robbed of having your own child."

A flood of tears began to flush down your cheeks, your hands patting and wiping away at the streams coming down, sniffles growing louder as you continued, "You were robbed of so many things, mother...so, now I understand why it was so hard for you to love me or even like me - it was because I wasn't yours."

You stopped to take a deep breath. Your thoughts overwhelm you and your mother. You could see that she was, in fact, human because of the tears she began wiping away. You'd always known she had a heart. She just built her walls so high and so thick that no one was able to penetrate them.

"Even though you never saw me as yours, you'll always be my mom. You're the only one I've ever known," you cleared your throat and continued through your shaky voice, "I hope life treats you well and that somehow you'll find happiness."

The twinge in your heart grew ten times more prominent by the end of your monologue. You hoped you were able to get everything off your chest. It's certainly been a long time coming. You've spent countless nights reflecting on your life and your mother's and concluded that you had lived your life long enough without her, so her not being involved in it wouldn't make a difference either way. She chose a path of destruction and displeasure, and you sure weren't going to go down the same direction. You wanted a life filled with love, joy, and hope - everything she wasn't.

You rose from your seat, gazing at her once more before heading out the door. You stopped to look back again; she had already turned away from you. You held onto the door entrance, lightly tapping, debating if you should say goodbye, but opted out. You didn't have anything else to say to her. You had made your peace.

You sat in the hospital lobby, thinking about how much you disliked them. They were so dull and sad, and the contrast of hospitals made your stomach twist- filled with sad and happy life events. Someone could give life to a brand new baby on one floor, and then on another floor, someone could be saying goodbye to a loved one.

Peering up from the ground to the commotion echoing before you, you saw Jungkook, Jin, and Namjoon rushing through the sliding double doors. Namjoon hurried in your direction, asking what room Yuna was in. As you told him, he and Jin went together, leaving you and Jungkook alone.

"Hey...." Jungkook softly called to you, making you gaze up at him, "Are you okay?" He searched your face for an answer. He could tell you had been crying, your eyes were puffy, and the tip of your nose was ruby red.

You swiped your finger underneath your runny rose, looking away from Jungkook. "Yeah...'m fine." You were always bad at lying, and Jungkook could always tell.

He sat next to you, his familial warmth filling up the space, and it was a warmth you had missed so much this past week.

"It's good to see you. It just sucks it's under these circumstances," Jungkook said as his hand struggled to see if he should hold yours. He shifted his hand a few times before settling it on his thigh. He wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable with him touching you.

But you helped him, placing your hand on top of his, curling your fingers between his. You could've easily not held his hand, but you were tired of going against the current. Right now, you need to be in the comfort of Jungkook's presence, and you'd sort out your feelings later.

He was taken aback by your gesture, but he didn't resist it. He had missed you so much this week. Jungkook wanted to keep this moment frozen as long as he could.

You glanced at him; your heart was racing a million miles a minute. "Can you do something for me?" He looked back at you, agreeing to your ask. "Can you stand up?"

He was confused by your request but wouldn't refuse you. He stood to his feet, as did you. Jungkook towered over you, which you loved so much. You always felt safe in his arms. The pair of you faced each other, his hand still entangled with yours.

"Can you...hold me?"

Your little chat with your mother shook you to the core. Sitting in the lobby, you realized that you were now truly alone.

Your father - gone.

Your birth mother - gone.

Your 'mother' - practically non-existent.

Jungkook scanned your face again, trying to figure out if this was a test. You looked up, eyes starting to pool with tears.

"Just for a little bit..." you expressed with such sadness.

In all the years that Jungkook has known you, he'd never seen you look so heartbroken - not even when he told you about Alex. This was different, and whatever was going on was more painful than he could ever imagine, something he could probably never fix.

He brought his other hand to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned in without hesitation, a tear streaming down your face. And then, he finally embraced you, holding you as tight as he could - a part of him never wanting to let go because he didn't want to lose you. He wanted to be your person. He wanted to be your everything, be there for you through the good and the bad, and champion and support you for the rest of his life. That's what he wanted. So, he was scared to let go because he didn't know if he'd get to become that for you. He knew whatever the reason for you giving in to him right now, the feeling would eventually pass, and you'd come back to your senses, remembering that the two of you were on a break.

You softly sobbed into his hoodie, letting everything you were holding in go. These past few weeks had been such a rollercoaster of emotions; honestly, you were just so tired of life continuing to shit on you. You weren't sure how much more you could take.

Jungkook quietly shushed you, telling you it'd be okay. "I'll always be here if you need anything, okay?"

His remark made you sob even more, chest heaving, short breaths leaving your mouth, continual snot running from your nose, slowly dripping down to the top of your lip. You turned your head, pressing it against his chest, hearing his heart thump rapidly, and your hands gripped tightly onto the back of his hoodie.

The two of you stood like this in the lobby for a while until you finally settled. Jungkook didn't say anything and didn't ask what was on your mind even though he desperately wanted to. You breathed a big sigh, slightly pulling away, taking his scent along with you.

You nibbled your bottom lip, quickly exploring Jungkook's eyes before landing on his lips. It would be a complete lie to say you weren't tempted to reach up and kiss them. You admit you almost gave into a moment of weakness, but it was time to return to reality and remember that you initiated a break from him.

"I'm--gonna head home."

"I can take you home," Jungkook immediately responded. He was hoping you'd accept his offer but was leaving room in his heart if you denied it.

"I'll just grab a taxi," you flashed a thin smile, "Thanks, Kook," you said, reaching up to kiss his cheek. You quickly pulled away in case you decided to give in and kiss him.

You walked out of the hospital and into the cab, wondering what your future would look like without your mother, you and Jungkook on the rocks, your best friend about to be a mom, and Hyunie nowhere to be found. You felt as though you were aimlessly wandering through life - just surviving, not living. Life around you moves a million miles a minute, but you are frozen in time, watching life pass you. You wondered when it would be your time to shine.

✨ next ~ i do

#jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook romance #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jungkook x y/n #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x reader

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she-karev · 2 days

Text

The Doppelganger (Maya x Carina Funny/Sweet Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of Four

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy/Station 19

Fancast: AJ Cook as Mia Knight, Matthew Gray Gubler as Spencer Knight

Ship: Maya Bishop and Carina DeLuca

AN: I decided in honor of Pride month I was gonna do one shots of Maya and Carina because they are goals and since Station 19 ended it’s up to us to keep the epic romance alive. Sign up to save Station 19 guys it’s too good of a show to end so soon. If not ABC then let another platform take it and run it. https://www.change.org/p/save-station-19

Summary: Carina has a patient who looks almost exactly like Maya and everybody except her can see it.

Words: 2134

June 06, 2024

Carina and Andrew stand by the OB station waiting for their chief resident to present their patient. In honor of Pride month Carina has an iron on bisexual heart and a new progress pride flag embroidery patch on her white coat. Amber DeLuca nee Karev runs to her husband and sister-in-law with an apologetic look.

“Hey sorry I’m late I had to reassign Kwan. Apparently, Link is feeling nice and decided to let him skip pre op notes which is good for Kwan’s studying but bad for my patience.”

“Which is none.” Andrew points out knowing his wife.

“Exactly.” Amber grabs a tablet, “So what do we got?”

Carina explains leading them down the hall, “Mia Knight 45 years old, 39 weeks pregnant, she and her husband came here from Los Angeles for a scheduled C-section.”

“Los Angeles?” Amber asks reading the chart, “It’s a long way for a C-section, is there an indication for prenatal conditions? And why do we need a general surgery attending?”

“Because 8 years ago after she gave birth to her second child there was a tear in her bladder that the OB missed 6 hours after childbirth.” Amber looks at Andrew in shock over this horrific story, “She wasn’t a priority until her BP was dropping and they did an ultrasound. When they got her into the O.R. she had free fluid everywhere it took two trauma guys just to find the source.”

“She almost died.” Carina adds clearly triggered due to being newly pregnant, “And when she got pregnant again, she went to three OB’s who recommended a scheduled C-section so that she wouldn’t risk tearing the scar internally. I went to med school with one of them and she sent them to me.”

“I don’t blame her for being cautious. I would be too if something like that happened to me after Lucy was born. Are there any complications so far?”

“None but she’s 45 so she’s at risk for more post-partum complications than she was 8 years ago.” Carina stops them outside the door, “Let’s make sure she knows we are gonna do our best to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

Carina opens the door and all three of them enter the room. Carina greets the couple with a smile while Amber and Andrew stand back in shock at what they see. Mia Knight is in bed reading a book over her gorging pregnant belly and when she looks up at them the couple can register that she looks just like Maya Bishop.

Mia puts the book down and turns to Carina, “Hi you must be the famous Carina I heard about. Dr. Lorenzo sings your praises.”

Carina smiles at that, “Oh that’s nice well I’m glad she sent you to me, I am here to deliver your baby safely and make sure you both get home. Where’s your husband?” Andrew and Amber look at Carina shocked she is acting so professional with a woman who could pull off as her wife.

Mia chuckles, “I told him this book was boring me, so he decided to go to the nearest store and get me a new standard romance. He’s been doting a lot. It was sweet at first but at some point, it got kind of annoying. I’m sure that’s the hormones talking.”

“He sounds devoted, I have a lot of patients whose husbands don’t even go in the delivery room. I think their afraid seeing their wives like that will ruin sex for them.”

Mia laughs while Amber and Andrew look at each other stumped. Amber mouths ‘Maya?’ and Andrew answers with a scared nod. Suddenly a man comes in with a Barnes and Noble bag.

“Hey sorry I’m late I was on the phone with your mom apparently Henry wants to spend the night with his friend and wanted to run it by me. Also, Phoenix wants to know if we can stop by the space needle and take a picture.”

Mia smiles, “Assuming I can fit in selfie mode by then. Spence this is our OB Dr. DeLuca, and this is the cavalry, doctors this is my husband, Spencer.”

Carina shakes his hand, “Hi Spencer you guys can call me Carina. So, Spencer what did you get the lady of the hour?”

He reaches in and takes out the books, “I got you a Colleen Hoover and a Nicholas Sparks if you feel like crying.”

Mia chuckles, “Spence I’m carrying a baby and I’m fat I’m always crying honey.”

“You look beautiful.” Spencer tells her for what no doubt feels like the 100th time causing her to kiss him on the lips. The sight of a clone of Maya kissing somebody else causes Amber and Andrew to stare too stunned to react. Carina turns to Amber and Andrew looking confused on why they look like they’re seeing a ghost.

“Dr. DeLuca?”

Both of them snap out of it and say at the same time, “Yeah.”

Mia catches on and looks amused, “Related?”

Carina points to them, “Brother and his wife, his wife who is supposed to be presenting.”

“Oh, wow three doctors in the family that’s gotta be a record.” Spencer chips in.

“Five actually my brother and his wife are also doctors here, yep a lot of us are connected, sometimes in very unexpected ways.” Andrew snorts under his breath with Carina looking at him confused. Amber clears her throat remembering where she is, “Mia Knight, 45, in today for a scheduled C-section and overnight observation.”

“And why is the C-section scheduled?” Carina asks.

“Due to a tear in her bladder after her last vaginal birth it’s safer to do it surgically that way it lowers the risks of opening old scars internally through labor. And because of her age she’s at risk for postpartum complications.”

“My age?” Mia asks Amber with an offended look. Andrew purses his lips and stands back not wanting to get in the middle of a showdown between his wife and a pregnant woman.

Amber looks up like she’s run into a knife, “Oh um…45 is young don’t get me wrong but for being pregnant it’s…it’s not…”

Mia breaks out into a smile and chuckles, “It’s okay I’m messing with you.” Amber exhales in relief and relaxes to Andrew’s amusement, “I know I’m no spring chicken that’s why I tossed the condoms out last year and here we are about to have a late in life baby.”

Spencer grins, “If you think I was shocked imagine our boys when they found out mom can still get pregnant. Henry is 13 and Phoenix is 8 so they know enough to be disgusted.”

Carina preps the ultrasound, “13 and 8, what are boys like at that age? I’m asking so there’s no surprises for me.”

Spencer helps Mia pull her gown open so they can do the ultrasound, “You have kids?”

“I have a son he’s 1 and my wife and I are pregnant.”

“Congratulations.” Mia exclaims as Carina puts the gel on her belly.

“Thank you. I’m asking because I want to be prepared for what happens down the road.”

“Oh, it’s the best.” Mia tells her with a smile, “They’re out of diapers and you can get them to wash your car for extra allowance money. It makes up for the teen hormones and them constantly saying ‘I am a grown up’. There’s always up and downs at every age, you just have to not lose your mind.”

Andrew chuckles, “It matters the most when their 2 our little girl is that age and she is an adorable monster.”

Amber grins, “Yeah she gets that from her father.” Andrew grins at Amber.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” Carina waves the wand over the belly and the screen shows a fully developed baby boy, “The baby looks strong, fetal heartbeat is normal and he looks ready to kick out of there. Are you both excited for a third boy?”

Mia grins, “You know after we found out Phoenix’s sex we decided to try again after for a girl but then…” Mia looks tormented by her last birth causing her to cough, “I was fine with the life I had after and then when we found out we were pregnant again I didn’t care if it was a goat just as long as I would have a better experience than last time.”

“And we’re gonna give it to you.” Carina affectionately holds Mia’s arms for assurance causing Andrew and Amber to look at each other over her comforting her like she would comfort Maya, “We are here to listen and to help you deliver this baby safely and go back home safe and sound. I will do the C-Section with Dr. DeLuca there to help in case there’s any complications. Amber here will be monitoring you before and after and page us if there is an emergency.”

Spencer looks at Mia with worry, “Are you sure it’s not gonna happen again? Because I waited while she was in the O.R. with our sons and it was hell. I don’t want us to go through that again.”

Carina looks at them understanding, “I know you’re scared, and you have a right to be but this is not like last time. Fetal medicine has evolved and so has our standard of care. We have crash carts for emergencies, checklists, and nurses working around the clock. We will take of your wife and baby, okay?”

Spencer and Mia look slightly relaxed and look at each other for a moment before Mia nods and her husband turns to them, “Okay.”

“Okay.” Mia says with a shaky breath.

Carina wipes the gel off Mia’s belly, “Okay I will go and prep an O.R. for you, Amber here will monitor you and prep you when we’re ready to go. You got this Mia.”

Carina walks out of the room with Andrew while Amber stays behind to monitor Mia’s vitals, still being transfixed by the similarities between her and Maya. Carina connects the tablet to a keyboard and types in the latest updates to Mia’s chart with Andrew right next to her looking at her with a gaped mouth and raised eyebrow. Carina notices and looks up with a blank look.

“What?”

Andrew’s eyes widen at Carina’s obliviousness, “What? Were you in that room just a minute ago?” Carina looks at him still confused, “Do you really not see it right now?”

“See what? Did Lucy hit you on the head with a bottle this morning?”

Andrew chuckles, “I think the hormones are making you blind right now.”

Amber exits the room leaving the door open and goes to her husband and sister-in-law with a scared face, “Oh my god I am getting serious Vertigo vibes here, if she falls to her death in a bell tower, I will not be surprised.”

“Yes, thank you!” Andrew tells Amber.

Carina chuckles lightly, “What are you two talking about? Is this an American thing I don’t know about?”

“She doesn’t see it?”

Andrew scoffs, “I’m also questioning it trust me.”

“See what?” Carina asks frustrated that she is kept out of the loop.

Amber turns to Carina straight with the answer, “She looks exactly like your wife.”

Carina looks surprised, “Maya? You think she looks like Maya?”

“Yes!” They both say in a duh tone but Carina chuckles like it’s the most ridiculous thing.

“That is stupid they don’t look anything alike.”

“Carina they could be twins.”

Amber gasps, “Maybe they are, separated at birth it could have happened.”

Andrew nods seeing it plausible, “Maya’s dad is messed up enough to do that.”

“Well, you are both wrong. Mia is 10 years older than Maya and she was born in Fresno.” Carina looks at them both amused, “Just because she has blonde hair and blue eyes doesn’t mean her and Maya are alike. Amber is blonde with blue eyes, and she looks nothing like Maya.”

“You really don’t see it?” Amber asks incredulously, “How can you not see it? My blind aunt in Omaha can see it.”

Carina rolls her eyes already annoyed, “I have to go prep the O.R. and you should go back in there and monitor Mia, so she doesn’t have a traumatic birth experience again. Mia not Maya Amber. Keep me updated.” Carina walks away from her brother and sister-in-law who look baffled by Carina’s stubbornness.

Amber grabs a tablet before turning to her husband, “We are not crazy.”

“Nope and I am gonna prove it.” Andrew pulls out his phone, “I’ll send you a text so you can open the blinds.” Amber nods at the plan and quickly goes back inside the room while Andrew calls Maya so she can come and prove themselves right to Carina.

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kysa32 · 1 year

Text

“How dare you. I was peacefully resting, and you dropped me off the side of the bed? Not fair, man. Not fair at all.”

Now, when the public thinks of a man, they think of deep, heavy chuckles that resemble that of an earthquake. However, Soap giggled like a little girl on steroids.

Still smiling, he wraps his arms around your waist and leaves kisses into the skin of your neck. “I’m sorry, my lovie. I didn’t mean to drop you.”

You sniff and pretend to be haughty by crossing your arms. But he can tell that it’s not the reality when your hand rises and rests on his cheek. Obliging, John continues to whisper adorations into whatever skin he can get his mouth on until he can see a smile curl itself on your lips.

His whiskers tickle the sensitive flesh, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not after having been away from him for so long.

The mission required one day of preparation, allowing both of you some time to take a small break. There was much paperwork to be done, but just enough that it didn’t encroach on your time together.

The whole day could be spent together, apart from the hours of briefing and prep.

You sat on a separate aircraft with your squadron, preparing for a drop off on the outer ring of the forest to prepare for stragglers trying to escape. They would be picked off quickly and cleanly and then you would return back to base, hopefully successful.

The mission went spectacularly well, with the recovery of Captain Price. It was clear that Soap had missed the captain very much, especially when he handed over his favored pistol. He had told you a bit of his history with the captain, explaining how the captain had taken him under his wing and treated him like a son. The 1911 was physical evidence of everything he detailed.

The captain had found you about a week later to thank you for your help. He patted your shoulder when you said that it was just your job. “I know. But you’ve done more for me than you could know.”

He disappeared around the corner and moments later, Soap rounded out of the darkness. He held his head high though the last week had been strenuous. “Did you hear all of that?” you asked. Playfully, Soap bumped his shoulder into you.

“Of course. Price keeps trying to get out of the hospital during his walks. They’ve told the old bastard that he needs to slow down and take it easy, but he doesn’t seem to care.”

You sighed. “The captain is a shark. If he stops moving, he won’t know what to do with himself. I’m guessing this is his most recent attempt to get out.”

Soap groaned, “Yes. The medical staff has been trying to keep him contained, but I think his brain is still in defense after the gulag.”

He grew stoic. “Price had been there for so long…I wasn’t able to stop what they did to him.”

You rub his shoulder with heavy empathy. Your own mentor had been captured and was never seen again when the search parties were sent. His sons and daughter told you that they didn’t hate you for what happened to him, but his wife couldn’t even look at you on the day of the funeral.

“What do you say you and I will go out for some food tonight? Any restaurant that you want to visit is where we’ll go,” you say. His regular cocky smile comes back up full force and you see his spirits rise almost instantly.

“As long as you’re buying. We’ll meet tonight at my house but for right now, I need to go find Price.”

He walks past you and a rush of cold air swirls against you.

Then the world went to hell.

Ghost and Roach were killed and all contact with Sandman and his crew was lost. They were assumed to be MIA, but too little was known at the time. All while you were in France, Price had screamed out to you that Shephard was not to be trusted and in a matter of seconds, two of your own soldiers turned on you. You managed to down both traitors with the help of your fellow men, but not without being tagged as an enemy to Shadow Company.

Fortunately, you had an ex-pilot in your three men, and he found a spare helicopter for you to get to the Middle East as soon as possible to regroup. You would never thank Shephard, but you were grateful that he did not have any forethought about how his action of forcing you to drag soldiers back out into the field would benefit you. But the comms crackled and through them, you heard an awful sound.

A sickly crunch of bone under the compressive force of a bolo knife and the groans of the whipping wind rung in the tight box of the helicopter.

Soap was stabbed brutally in the chest by Shephard. You could hear rushing blood in your ears and you almost lost the cool facade of a captain. Your grip tightened on the stock of your rifle.

You could imagine the worst, him bleeding out in a dust storm on the other side of the world. Price would take care of him, surely. But the captain was an older man and would not be able to protect Soap from Shepherd for long. You had to hurry.

The remaining two men that weren’t pilots watched you jerkily pace to call for the pilot to move faster. “I’m going as fast as I can!” he exclaimed. You clenched your fist into a tight grip and swore when you came to the realization that if Shepherd didn’t die now, you would hunt him down and destroy him the same way he did to Soap.

Four minutes later, Price was radioing in. John was still alive and he had killed Shephard. A calm blew into the tense hull of the helicopter, both of your remaining soldiers slumping over a bit. The adrenaline high was falling, but your fear reminded you to stay ready.

Nearly fourteen hours after plane hopping multiple times, you touch down in India. Raging bullets fly throughout the city, whizzing into the helicopter’s armor. Your pilot lands at the point where Nikolai reported the stop was at and before the helicopter lands, you’re already on your feet.

You hopped out and Nikolai had rushed to get your remaining forces inside. “Where is he, Nikolai? Tell me,” you charged. He looked frazzled. “Price is waiting for you outside the operating room.”

Without much word, you had hurried away, running down the crammed halls of the holdout. Whizzing past you were hundreds of eyes widening in fear of being trampled and voices yelling out in indignation, urging you forward.

You heard the captain before you saw him. Yelling out orders to any soldiers without tasks, he took complete charge. When he saw you, however, his distraught expression changed. Unlike any of the other soldiers, he hobbled as quickly as he could to meet you halfway. With two blackened eyes and enough bruises covering the majority of his skin, Price looked damn near dead.

“What’s happened?” you cried to him. He explained to you on your way to the makeshift hospital that Shephard had gone after them because “we knew too much.” In anger, you nearly grabbed the captain by his shirt and screamed in his face that that was hardly a reason for anyone to go after your beloved and your friends. Instead, you settled for squeezing the holt of your pistol like it was responsible for your pain.

The hall ended near where three old chairs sat unoccupied. Price gestured towards two wide doors before speaking. “That’s the room, love. They’ve been working all night.” He turned to speak into the comm which crackled with gunfire and yells. Before turning to rush down the hall, the captain puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “He’ll be out soon.” With that in mind, he left you to wait.

The waiting gave you time to think, to think of the possibilities of what could be, of what will be after all was done. Like a caged tigress, you paced back and forth outside the operating room. No one dared to stop you.

When the surgeons came out dragging their feet across the floor, your heart dropped through the floor. Without hesitance, you raced to the head doctor’s side and begged him to tell you whether or not your Johnny was still alive or not.

He nodded. You nearly fell to your knees in gratitude, but managed to keep it together when they began to move his bed to a room down the hall. Instinctually, you should have seen the foreshadowing when you followed behind the procession of nurses silently, but it didn’t strike you then.

In the cramped room, you got a much better look at him once the nurses left. The center of John’s chest was covered in gauze and medical tape, a light pink blossoming underneath. Bruises and cuts covered what else you could see of his body and face. Weeping wasn’t normal for you, at least not around others besides your family. However at this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself and the welled up emotions made you tremble.

Burying your face in your hands, you had cried at his sleeping side well into the night, only pausing when Price came to check on Soap. He had pulled up a chair next to you, apologizing for not being able to come sooner. Thin flesh colored bandages covered the cuts on his face. He looked worse than you had ever seen him, but ignored it to not make him self conscious. The captain wasn’t a man of many words, only speaking when he felt he needed to. But, if he knew that his appearance made you uncomfortable, he would make it very clear that he wasn’t here for you anyways.

You’d prefer to have him with you anyways.

With the consistent hum of Soap’s many monitors, the captain began to drift against the wall. He was quiet, but you noticed his flinching like he was being beaten or electrocuted.

You did your best to slip your own jacket off without disturbing the captain, careful not to move too quickly while removing your bulletproof vest. Cautiously covering him with it, you watched Price tuck his head inward to the warm coat. For a second, he looked more like a tired old man rather than a feared military captain.

Instead of resting, you quietly walked to the window. The land around the base was in chaos. Fires shone brightly throughout the city and many of the windows in the buildings were dark, but up above a brilliant blanket of stars covered the world.

A groan came from the bed and you looked over your shoulder to see John stirring. His eyes rolled back and forth underneath his swollen eyelids and you perched yourself at his side. Like a frog, his legs stretch out to their full length to flex the wound up muscles. He attempts to try to do his arms too, but his fingers tremble as he tries.

They fall limp at the sides of the bed, so you lift them back up to rest on his stomach. Soap’s as pale as a ghost and his forehead is coated in sweat. Though he’s not moving much anymore, his face is still contorted in a grotesque expression of pain.

You’re not a nurse. Never would be in this lifetime, at least. But, you do have enough training and first aid experience to determine that wiping his face would be okay. Tenderly, you take a small tissue dampened with water from a nearby faucet and begin to clean the exposed bits of his visage. Some of your tears fall and wet the bandages on Soap’s chest and you do your best to stop crying.

When you’ve finished there, you wash your hands and run your fingers through his hair. Your hands are cold and dry, a contrast from the warm clamminess of his body. With the limited amount of medicine around, you really hope that he doesn’t get an infection.

Exhausted from the events of the day, you slide off into a chair beside the bed and allow your mind to run itself to sleep.

Price wakes you up in the morning. It is not an easy rising because you have to hurry to your next position in fending off the invading armies. However, you’re allowed to return that night when he flutters into consciousness.

When Soap awoke, he did his best to center on a point in the ceiling.

“How long have I been out?” he asked. You leaned closer to say, “Don’t worry about that right now. Just try to rest. Please.” Snapping to attention at your voice, he tries to focus. You can tell that he’s struggling by the flutter of his eyelids.“You’re here…but how?” he asks.

Gently, you reached for his hand and brought it up to your cheek. “I survived Shephard’s men turning on me. We stole a helicopter and flew here after Price informed us about what happened. You’ve been in surgery for the past fifteen hours.”

John’s calloused thumb rubs through your lashes as he turns the thought over in his drug induced mind. His eyes widened when he figured it out and two heavy arms lashed out to pull your face against his. Planting your hands on the bed to prevent him from dragging you down, you hold your weight to stop him from being hurt. Between the frantic kisses, he muttered to you, “You’re …you’re here.”

You kissed him one more time before responding, “I would always come back to you. Don’t even think for a second that I wouldn’t.” He did his best to glue you to his side but in his drowsy state, he couldn’t move more than a little bit without contorting in pain.

You pulled away from his grip and returned to the chair beside the bed. “No, John. The wound is too fresh.” Pouting like a child, he dramatically tosses his head to look away from you. You sigh, but thank the heavens that at least this little bit of his personality stayed intact.

All at once, exhaustion drowned every desire to do anything more and you laid your head down on the side of the bed. Soap starred as you did so, watching while his blue eyes drooped and he fell asleep under the influence of his drugs. You don’t remember what happened next, but you do recall feeling the calmest you’ve felt in a long time.

Nearly a month and a half later, the remainder of the disavowed Task Force 141 had been allowed to start work again around the old Soviet base. John spoke with the surgeon, reassuring him that he was ready, though the surgeon was adamant about not sending him out again.

So, Captain Price came up with an alternate plan to bypass all of the surgeon’s warnings. Soap would be sent out on small jobs, not fully inducing him into the mindless blood soaked hills of the battlefield. He would have to learn how to operate again.

Not to mention, the countries of the world were still hunting you all down and to protect yourself, you would have to keep moving.

It bothered you quite a bit. Obviously, stabs as deep as this need time to heal and seal the cavity within. But Price assured you that Soap was safe and was slowly healing and John himself assured you that he wanted nothing more than to be out and about again.

They were wrong. John had been thrown back into the fray too hastily when the surface of the wound had barely started to heal. You had seen it when he removed his shirt to change clothing. The skin was still too pink and he hissed when something brushed against it too hard.

That was the reason why he died.

You didn’t hate that he made this decision for himself; you knew he knew what he wanted, though the logical part of you knew you should have begged him not to push it.

If you hadn’t been separated from the group, you could have saved his life. Could have done something.

Price blamed himself for Soap’s death more than anything, though. He was there with him the whole time and suffered for it. The Captain had never apologized, but expressed his sorrow through an act of contrition of watching over you. You knew that he did it for Soap and not for you, but you hoped that he would also come to care for you too.

A whole lifetime had passed since you had admitted that you wanted to build on your relationship. Together, you had built a world of beauty and wonder, but now that John was gone, you weren’t sure what to do now that your dreams had crumbled.

Your legs had started to go numb from sitting on the floor for so long and your back was starting to hurt, so you stood to stretch out.

The radio chirped multiple times. For about ten minutes, you had been sitting there not moving and now the nurse thought you were dead.

“I’m here. Just stopped for a moment,” you proclaimed. The team let out a deep breath, “Oh, good. We were worried that you were out.”

You paused. “Don’t worry. I’m okay.”

The wood of the windows creaked in the bright heat of the sun.

Before you walked out the door never to return again, you glanced back at John’s body. He looked as if he were asleep, but you knew he would never awake again.

You knelt to say goodbye.

“I don’t want to do this. I’m so mad at you for leaving me. But, you need to rest and I’m not going to be with you for some time,” you told him, eyes burning. “I will miss you. I don’t know how you did it, but you found your way into my heart and I let you carve out a space for yourself. You have changed me. For better or worse, I don’t know. And I find that I don’t care.”

With a heavy heart, you stood and kissed the cold skin of his forehead. “I love you. I always will,” you whispered to him.

Your hand laid on his as you stepped away, every pace towards the door ripping a wider hole in your soul. The sun blazed into your unguarded eyes and a breeze blew through the square. But before you could step out, you turned back one last time. Bright tears rolled down your cheeks, soaking into the dusty wooden flooring.

For a moment, you questioned your own fortitude. Could you really leave all of this behind, knowing that you had felt something so ardent that it could only be equated to nirvana? But a bloom of bravery and hope bled itself into the cracks of your heart. If you didn’t walk out this door now, you would run back to your dead soldier’s body and languish in this old house. He wanted you to live. And living wouldn’t happen here. So you walked out into the street and stood watching a dragonfly twitter on a tilted telephone pole.

Beauty still managed to exist here despite the ugliness of humanity. That was a miracle unto itself.

You sat down on the busted hood of a car, marking the point on the map for a dead body. In a click, the comms buzzed under your hand to communicate. “Awaiting at Point S for evac. I have a dead 141 soldier with me in need of a body bag.”

The radio crackled and in the background, you could hear the rumble of the medical caravan echoing through the quiet city.

The comms went silent and you basked in the warmth of the sun contrasted by the cool breeze. There wasn’t much to do but sit and wait, so that’s what you did.

Out of the corner of your eye, the nurse ambled into the square, two cans resting in their gloved hands.

“Look at what I found,” they call. They hold up both hands to show two preserved jars of jam. You slide down a little bit. “Where’d you find those?”

They give you a full mouthed smile before showing you the cartoonish labels. “I found them in that old hotel over there. There’s a pantry full of food that’s still okay to eat. Do you think we can let the other medics know when they get here?”

You nod and take the proffered jar from their hands. The glass hadn’t shattered, in some miraculous stroke of luck and you ran your fingers over the grooves making a design on the side.

Strawberry. A typical favorite for many in normal times, but a rarity now. Nobody you knew had the time to grow them regularly, and the price for them became steep.

A loud pop echoed through the square and you startled up. The nurse had opened their can of jam and was now happily digging through their satchel for an issued spoon.

Once they had it, they scooped some of the near completely black jelly and shoved it into their mouth. A great big sigh of joy echoed as they had a taste of something that they hadn’t had in a long time.

They shared the glass jar with you and you also pulled out your spoon. Passing it back and forth, the two of you shared the blackberry jam as you waited for the trucks to come and get you.

When the caravan pulled into the square, the head medic got out and beckoned for you to come.

“Are there any civilians or survivors?” he asks. “Yes, but they’re soldiers and are mobile,” you say. “They’re headed towards the base, so tell your guards not to fire on them.”

He nods, assuring you that they will be taken care of. You start to walk away to help in packaging the dead and make it about half the distance that you traveled from the building to the hood before the medic calls to you.

The medic motions towards a vehicle near the entrance of the center that was still turned on. His voice raised, he cried, “Price called in. He’s waiting for you in Paris.”

You nod and board the carrier back to the base. As your driver begins to pull out, you watch as the nurse turns to wave goodbye and you send a small smile their way.

The driver mutters something about being tired to their neighbor in the front and they continue towards the base. As they continue along the road, you tug at your fingers and look out the window. Though you would be cleaning the majority of the time that you were with Price, you were still anxious to see him again.

•

Paris was just as pretty as you remembered, even if it was in shambles. Through the window of your troop transport, you could see the open fields blend into the city limits, and the sheep that ran at the dragonfly hum of the helicopter.

The scene was almost too nostalgic to not be shared with anyone, especially not with Soap. You thought about the store with the white dress. Would it still be there even after the attacks? Maybe it was. Either way, you would find out sooner or later.

The carrier touched down at the airbase and the small figure of Price approached at a reasonable speed.

As the bay doors opened, you paused to look back at the window that displayed the green field behind you. The captain called, “Are you ready?”

You nod at him and draw your attention down to the hand holding the stock of your rifle. For so long, you had waited to come back to this place, but never alone. Now you’re here, but for a completely unrelated reason than what you originally wanted to come back for.

“I’m ready.” Price grabs the separate bag that sits by your feet as he walks up. To not startle you, he nudged your side gently. “Let’s go then.”

He walks down and you follow with a heavy heart.

Returning home was bittersweet. You found your parents and your siblings all still alive, and you promised that together you would help to rebuild a new home. They were happy about that, but even more so, they were proud that their child had survived through many hardships that they would most likely never know about. They could still see that something weighed heavily on your shoulders and did their best to support you in getting back to the UK.

Your family was concerned how you would do on your own, especially when you received a message from Captain Price inviting you back for the funerals of Ghost, Roach, and Soap. Your family made sure that you were aware that you could always come back to them before you left. You assured them that you would be alright.

There wasn’t much of anything of your personal items that you needed to take back home with you, so the bag with your civilian things was relatively light compared to all of your combat gear. You would be taking it back with you, though you wanted nothing more than to abandon it in an alleyway somewhere.

From the airport, the long drive towards your destination began as the skies opened up. The storm cast a gloomy ambience over the Scottish countryside as you pulled into the driveway of your simple home.

When you made it home to your little house, you did your best not to dwell on the dust covering the shelves and cabinets. Nobody had touched this place in a long time. A very long time indeed when you looked at the calendar that had marked when your last deployment would be.

The cottage was quiet apart from the wind and rain, and you found that you hated it. It would take some time to get used to being alone, but you could do it. Just take care of yourself and it would all be okay. You started by doing your best to clean. That wasn’t easy.

Besides there being huge dust bunnies everywhere, small critters had found their way in and made themselves at home. The two apples that were left on the kitchen counter swarmed with rot and fruit flies, so you threw the whole basket holding them away.

Every part of the house had to be scrubbed and polished and without a doubt, would take at least a week. A schedule for what to tackle each day was drawn and you paused when you remembered the closet.

That would involve the most crying, so you set it for the coming Friday.

•

This neighborhood you lived in had not been hit by bombs or gunfire, but the people were dramatically affected by the war. Children played in the street together, but would scatter if something loud came close. The adults weren’t in much better shape either. They too had seen the horror of war and would stay up late into the night, unable to sleep or dream. Dreaming was meant for a happier time.

Still, they labored in bringing fresh food to the marketplace that you wandered through. Piles of sweet apples, cartons of berries, and tables of fresh bread were scattered through. It was the most food that you had seen in a long time. Purchasing a rather thick loaf of bread, you place it in your bag and continue onward. Two young boys chattered to each other as they walked past you and you paused to scan the scene. These two smiled and laughed at a joke the other made. The world was starting to heal again.

•

Price met you on the day before the funeral for Simon and Gary at a peaceful park closer to where he and Mrs. Price had now retired. He had been slowly healing, looking drastically less thin than the last time you saw him. But his steps were a bit slower and his voice was quieter when he spoke.

“Good to see you back. Are you ready to go?” You walked with him towards the park you both would be tracing. “Yes.”

A semi comfortable silence settled over the two of you. On one hand, the two of you had suffered so much and to bring it up would cause pain to the other. But, on the other, there were questions and many things that needed to be said.

So for the sake of your friend, you extended an olive branch.

“Have you been doing okay?” you say quietly.

He looked at you, crows feet furrowed more heavily than ever.

“I’m alright. How about you?”

You watch the green pond where multicolored mallards clean themselves.

“Okay. Just not sure what comes next.”

He hummed. Captain Price was not one for small talk but it seemed even he was not sure how to approach what needed to be said.

“What will you do now that it’s over?” you ask.

Price keeps walking, but says, “I’m not really sure yet.”

He looked thoughtful, but tired too.

“I think I would like to just rest for a while. I’ve grown old and haven’t held a normal job in a long time. I don’t even know what constitutes normal anymore.”

You nod in agreement and look out over the pond. The ancient willow trees circling the pool whispered with the breeze and you looked to a nearby field where a group of workers picked the rich peaches of the orchard and dumped them into wide baskets.

Price carefully spoke, “And what will you do?”

You turned to sadly smile at him as the pavement began to climb up a hill.

“Not sure. Might go pursue one of my other interests. But I do agree that some time to rest would be nice. Lord knows we’ve earned it.”

Price nods and at the top of the hill, he pauses to gaze out. You stand at his side and close your eyes to relish in the freshness of the breeze.

When you open your eyes, a pink and blue haze drifts out of view as you adjust to the brightness of the world around you.

The Captain motions to a nearby bench. You walk and sit next to him. In this peaceful environment, the tension has eased drastically.

He starts first, and your hackles raise with what he says. “I don’t know how to say this to you. But I’m sorry. I should never have thought he was ready.”

You fidget to stop the angry tears from spilling again. “It’s hard to forgive. He listened to you- trusted you. And you willingly allowed him to go out there when you knew he wasn’t well.”

“You know every time he saw you, he saw the man that he considered his mentor, his friend, his brother, his second father? All of those titles shouldn’t belong to you, but they did and still do.”

Price takes it all in stride, but with every word that is spat from your lips, his heart dies inside him a bit more. You know this and want to further his pain so he could feel what you felt, but when he hunches over just a degree, you know that he felt more than you knew.

“And though I don’t understand why he cared about you til the end, I know Soap would have wanted me to watch out for you as well. He would have told me to do it for him. So in that spirit, that’s what I’ll do.”

John Price looks up and you force eye contact. If forgiveness could be expressed physically, you hoped it was this. His eyes are red as tear tracks begin to streak down his cheeks.

You’re certain that his face matched yours, so you shut your eyes in hopes to tamp down the spilling drops of human grief.

They don’t stop though.

So, you cry together.

Ghost and Roach’s funeral was going to be an event that you would hate.

Both would be laid in Brookwood, a closed casket because of the grotesque nature of their bodies.

Still, throughout the war, you had hoped that they were still alive. Maybe in another life, they would have survived and they wouldn’t have to go through the torturous death that killed them.

As it started, you held the flowers that would be thrown on their graves in a death clench. The juices of the perishing flowers filled the crevices of your nails and produced a sticky, sickly smell that clung to your hair as the clergyman spoke.

When it was your turn, you tossed the flowers like Shephard threw the lit cigar and prayed that their families would forgive.

Some days it seemed like nobody wanted to acknowledge the war.

There were nights when the sadness left you broken and you curled up. The PTSD sometimes became too much to handle and you nearly cracked the screen of your phone calling one of your family members.

For years to come, Mrs. Price would become a great friend. After Price had passed, the old woman had no one else to take care of besides herself. You worried about her and sometimes you wondered why you did. Was it because she had also lost her life companion? Or was it because you inherently knew that you needed each other in a time like this?

Either way, you spent more time around her, meeting for coffee at a little corner shop, inviting each other for little excursions around the city

On a particular outing, Mrs. Price had brought something that she said she found while rooting through some of her husband’s old things. She had tied a bow of silky white ribbon around the notebook that you had seen many times being toted around by your lover. Price’s wife explained then that the captain had wanted this given to you after his death.

It had accompanied Soap just about everywhere, and when he had down time, he could be seen scribbling away at one of the pages. John had no doubt poured bits of himself into it, you were sure.

Later that night in the safety of your own home, you had pulled out the notebook. The leather had small points of weathering from being handled so much, in the shape of his hand.

If you opened the book, the memories so carefully stored away would be dragged back out. You stayed sitting at the table til the early morning hours, the cries of dogs echoing late into the night. When you went to bed, you rested your head on your pillow and cried.

The morning came too quickly. You didn’t have work, but you still had chores and errands to run. The chickens and your donkey needed to be fed and cleaned up, then from there, you would need to run to town to gather some extra feed and fertilizer for your garden. The book could be left for tonight. You left it on the table and walked to the other room.

•

After a simple dinner with Mrs. Price, who was staying in Scotland for three weeks, you flipped the lights on in your kitchen.

The notebook stared back as you pulled out a brand new bottle of wine. Pouring it, you downed the first glass and prepared a second. Lord knows, you’d be needing the courage to make it through.

Slamming the bottle and glass down, you clawed at the book until it slid over. Prying up the cover like you would a crate, you pulled at the pages and they crinkled a bit under your lead hand.

The few blank pages opened to piles of notes on every blank surface.

In the book, sketches of almost everyone you had fought with sat inside. A doodle of Captain Price with a little caption, a tiny drawing of Roach with antennae, Ghost playing with a rubix cube, a half finished piece of Yuri, and even one of the layouts of a building. They lay between notes, immortalizing everyone you had lost. Cheeks damp with tears, you threw the book down.

The notebook had turned on its pages and realizing your mistake, you rushed over to pick it up. None of the pages were bent when you flipped through them, but a drawing you hadn’t seen caught your eye.

Brushing back to it, you nearly dropped the book again. Two full pages dedicated just to you opened. There were drawings of you sitting on a bench reading a book, you passed out against the wall of a helicopter, you petting a stray cat that he knew you loved, but a mirror image of yourself staring back at you was what caught your attention. Smears of shiny silver graphite smudged under John’s watchful hands had formed your face.

It became evident that what he saw was not a woman worn down and tired from war.

He saw beauty. Each feature was decorated with a detail that could only be described as being loved.

Beside it rested a side note that nearly buckled your legs. It said, Every dream I ever had.

You staggered to the hallway with the book still in hand, dragging yourself to the bathroom where you splashed frigid water on your face.

Practically reverting to the way you were just after his death, you collapsed on the floor and did your best to focus on the nails of the wooden floors. What would he think if he saw you right now? Would you still be the woman drawn in soot? Would you still be what he dreamed of had he lived?

As you sat there in silence, you came to the conclusion that you had come to a forked path. You could dwell in the valleys of the past, pinned under the good memories you had. Or, you could try to build up your strength and climb out of the rockslide.

This would not be easy. Logic asked you to move on. But, your heart wished to hurt itself again and again. You wouldn’t let it.

•

There were times when you went to sit at his grave. There were new flowers placed there every week, marigolds, lavender, poppies, and the reddest tulips you could find. Though they were cleaned away regularly, you still brought them along with snacks that he liked.

There was another woman that frequented the cemetery more regularly than you did. The only difference was your age and the fact that she was heavily pregnant. At her wife’s grave, she would cry about being alone, about feeling lost, about not knowing what to do next. There was a kindred spirit of suffering between you and you did your best to let her grieve on her own. You weren’t in a position to give her advice.

Then she disappeared. She had gone to have her baby, and you knew that you wouldn’t be seeing her for a while. Still, you hoped that your graveyard companion would come back. And she did, this time not alone.

Gone was the big belly she had once sported and now a new car seat carrier came with her. The young lady never stayed too long, now having to worry about the wiggly infant that whined when he was too cold.

You were happy that she returned, but by no means were you envious of her situation. She was haggard and looked like a woman worked to the bone, kind of like yourself not so long ago. Which is why when she left with her baby, you cleaned and honored her wife’s grave by yourself.

Years of repeating the same cycle left both of you older. The woman’s son was no longer a tiny baby, but a young boy that talked endlessly to his mothers about what he learned in school that day.

It was endearingly domestic to see him grow larger by the week, the aurora of youth in every step he took. The mother grew too. She was doing better each time you saw her, a new spark lit under her. She was still sad, but time and responsibility heal.

It was on one of those rare occasions when the sun decided to peek out from behind the clouds that your regular routine had changed. The day was bright and the world smelled fresh from the night of rain before.

You had slept well the night before and praised the heavens for your good rest. The bakery down the street had a freshly baked loaf of bread cooling in the window and you purchased it for later.

All of the good things compiling together made the day feel happier and you dared to hope. Perhaps the girl and her son would be there.

Though the ground had the consistency of a wet sponge, you still decided to spread out a blanket to sit. The picnic basket hanging on your arm had been set out and its bright red and white pattern stood out against the somber hills of green.

Stretching out, you quietly prepare the fresh bread to be eaten together. A slice for him and a slice for you goes along with a happy bouquet of crisp wildflowers next to his quiet grave.

Before you eat, you tell him a bit about how you’d been and anything that crosses your mind. When he was alive, Soap enjoyed listening to your rambling because the military had taught you not to share your thoughts.

Another car pulled up and you perked a little bit. The woman hopped out and walked to the back car door to put her child down on the ground. She quietly admonished him when he got too loud with his ramblings and picked up her purse. The duo walked to the other side of the cemetery and sat down. The soft hums of their conversation lulled you to relax. They too soak in the drowsy warmth.

Eyes drawn to the sky, you silently relish in the feeling of the sun warming your face and turn to look back at your husband. “It’s a beautiful day today. Seems nice enough for a walk. Maybe I’ll go when I’m finished here.”

“Go where?” a high pitched voice asks.

Soldier’s instinct kicks in and you whip around to see who snuck up behind you. The woman’s son stands about a yard away from you and you take a closer look at what he’s doing. He holds a small ziplock bag of mini cookies, curiously watching you.

You release your breath and smile at him. “Just going to go for a walk, kiddo.” His big brown eyes narrow like he’s unsure if you’re telling the truth. When he deems that you are, he shrugs and looks at the headstone behind you.

“Who’s that?” he asks. You turn to where his pointed ogle was. “Ah, that is my husband.”

He tilts his head and pauses to mull over your words. “He’s dead?” the boy asks.

You nod slowly. “Yes.”

His face contorts into a skewed second hand sadness. “Why did he die?”

You pause, unsure of how to give the boy the truth without telling him too much.

Successfully deciding what to say, you respond, “He was a soldier, my dear. His job was to protect those that needed him.”

“But, why though?”

He walks a few steps closer. “Well, think about it this way. You have people that you love like your mom, right? They care for you. He had people like that too,” you explain.

You can see the wheels turn in the boy’s head about what you just said. He asks, “So, he wanted to protect you?”

The air feels suddenly thin, and it makes you feel light headed.

“He did.”

The boy steps a bit closer to the grave. “Can you read what it says to me?” You smile at him through the strangulation and begin to read aloud.

“In memory of John “Soap” MacTavish. Beloved son, brother, and husband. Your sacrifice will be remembered for years to come.”

A silence spreads over the lonely gravesite. You watch the boy’s reaction carefully to see what he does. He doesn’t give much away, but rubs at his eye.

The little one then reaches into his bag of cookies to pull one out. He says, “Do you think he’d want a biscuit?”

A laugh bubbles from the bottom of your chest, true joy at the sweetness of the child’s statement.

“Yeah, I think he’d like one, kid.”

The boy smiles and puts the little treat down on the grave next to the slice of bread.

His mother huffs and puffs behind you, crying to her child to not run off on her.

She puts her hands down on her knees and pants from her run. With a hoarse voice, she tells you, “I’m so sorry, miss. My son doesn’t usually wander off from me and I was just distracted, and I’m just really sorry.”

You dismiss her anxious rambling with a smile and a wave.

“No harm done. Your son was just asking about my late husband.”

Her chest falls as she relaxes. “Oh, thank you for making sure he didn’t run off.”

“No worries, sweetheart,” you say. “I’m just glad that he’s okay.”

The young mother motions for her boy to come stand by her side, and he willingly goes to stand with her.

Curiously, she makes eye contact with you.

“You lost your husband?”

The boldness certainly passed to her son, you noted.

“I did. And I assume you also lost someone?”

She nods and a fresh bout of tears fills her eyes. “Yes, my wife. I miss her quite a lot.”

You nod as the woman puts herself out there.

“My name is Isla. This is my son Elias.”

You kindly tell the younger woman your name, and offer her a place to sit and some of your bread.

She declines the bread, but her son asks for some. You cut off a large chunk and pass it to him and his mother leaves to gather their items. After walking back to where your blanket is, she drops down beside where her child sits, happily wolfing his way through a thick slice of bread.

For the next hour and half, you spend some time talking to her. You learn that she has no other family in this country besides her son and that her boy is in the first grade.

All the while, Elias interjects little tidbits of information about his favorite foods, his friends, his activities. For the first time in a long time, you feel a bond of friendship begin to creep in.

•

Throughout your years, the pain of losing your love haunted you everyday. But the joy you felt when taking care of your family built itself into a home for everyone within your neighborhood.

The local children flocked to the field beside your home and played with animals that loved their attention. The adults would come spend afternoons and evenings with you, relishing in the fact that there was someone else there that understood their loneliness and suffering.

The few veterans that survived sometimes visited to speak about their experiences, and they asked about John often. You were pleased that his memory lived on, but were still sad.

You knew you would meet again someday. And that day did come, simply later than you expected.

Your family gathered at your bedside when the hour drew near. And although you knew they had traveled a long distance to see you, you searched for other faces besides theirs.

And you found them.

Price’s iconic silhouette was outlined in the darkened doorway, Sandman and his crew peered over the crowd, Roach hovered beside your weeping sister, and a serene Ghost stood as a silent sentry to your bedchamber. But where was Soap?

The strings of life were quickly snapping, but you cling to them with what little strength you had. Please let him be here. Don’t let me die alone.

You sense a new presence in the room over the flutter of your family members. They’re crying and stroking your arms, but you aren’t focused on them anymore.

Scanning each face, you frantically search any and all corners in the room. Where is he?

A light, warm dragging sensation trails along the length of your upper arm, and a familiar smile enchants you all over again.

As beautiful as the day you had first met him, he’s knelt as he did many long years ago.“John?” you murmur.

Excitement and fear sparks trepidation in your failing heart. “I’m scared. I’m really, really scared.” His expression curves in reassurance, though he never speaks.

At your other side, a voice chimes in. Elias.

“Auntie, who are you talking to?”

You smile at your husband who grows more vivid with every passing second. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m only talking to myself.”

The older boy’s eyes squint in a concerned manner, not seeing that you were happy to be where you were.

Closing your eyes, you straightened your spine and took a deep breath.

Inside your heart, you knew that you wouldn’t last much longer when your machines started to beep in rapid succession. A bone deep ache spreads through your body, hurting more than any injury you sustained during the war.

As the last of a dying breed, it wouldn’t be long now.

And it wasn’t. Death was just like falling asleep.

Perhaps there was dreaming. Was there singing? Who would know?

•

The tarmac is brightly lit by huge overhead lights, drowning out some of the less bright stars. As the troop carrier bumped over the potholes in the road, you looked at each of the unknown faces that sat with you. A few spoke softly to each other, but nothing loud enough to be heard from where you sat. A poet had probably written about this same situation; something about human solidarity and alienation and all of that. You didn’t really care, though.

Over the comms in the vehicles, a crackling voice announces that you have about a minute till you meet your new team. Laswell had taken care to notify you about your new position and made sure to tell you about each specialized individual who would make up this motley crue.

There were three Englishmen (one being your captain) and a Scotsman. They were rumored to be the best of the best, efficient and strong in a fight. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that they would do their job and they would do it well.

The truck slows as it turns for entry and you mentally prepare for meeting your new compatriots. As it pulls to a full stop, the other soldiers gather their bags and split to find their new commands.

You’re the last one out. The whole base is alive with camouflaged people running back and forth, helicopters landing, and loud crowing from the speakers scattered about. Between the fray and frenzy, you catch sight of the grim reaper standing near the back of another vehicle.

Laswell had described the man that you were to look for and this soldier fit the description of Lieutenant Ghost fairly well. Approaching, you hefted your bags higher on your shoulder as another man started to speak to him. He clapped the lieutenant’s shoulder heartily and turned to rejoin the group he had been with.

Trotting towards the vehicle you supposed was your next ride out, he glanced your way and your eyes met. His expression changed from one of confidence to something pensive and unsure. He didn’t pause though, and didn’t turn back to look at you.

But, in the quick moment that you had with him, there was a spark of passing recognition about his face. Something about his facial structure, or the way he held himself made you double take. Somewhere, you remembered seeing him… or someone that looked like him.

He would change your life. Just a thought.

#john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x you

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