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bunnyhugs77 · 6 months

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Daddy Daycare

Pairing: Technician! Jungkook x Teacher's Assistant! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Part: 1, 2, 3

Series Content: daycare au, suggestive themes, love at first sight? dilf jk, mentions of antidepressants, mint jk and blonde jk, jk cant sleep, sexual themes, he's so whipped, toxic ex, minor baby mama drama, gold diggers, mentions of death, complicated family history, cute kid cameos, reader can't drive, jk is good with his hands, mentions of abusive relationships, so much fluff.

Other Series Content: soft dom! jk, muscle kink, pussy puts his ass to sleep, unprotected sex (just don't), oral sex (f! and m! receiving), brief choking, minor breeding kink, hickeys, brief dom! reader, reader makes him wait, intimate cuddling, praise.

"Ready for a new year, Y/n?"

Your nose was filled with the smell of fresh paint and scotch tape as you and your co-worker Vanessa who goes by Ms. Powell when the class is swarming with bright and bustling four-year-old's.

The loud sound of ripping tape rang through your ears as you pasted the pieces onto the back of the welcome sign. The sun was hardly out as the two of you arranged to arrive at your new classroom bright and early at 5 am to finish off the decorations for the classroom.

"I can't believe the summer is finished already." You say with a rejuvenated smile. "I can only imagine how fast the time flies when you're travelling Europe." She reminds you of your two-week-long travels across the south of Europe.

Standing to your feet for what feels like the first time ever after hours of crouching and kneeling to finish up the decorations. "I think that's the last of it," with a puff of air and a pair of hands on your hips you smile to yourself, satisfied with the lively environment the two of you managed to create.

"I think we're ready," Vanessa says, cracking open a fresh whiteboard marker to sign your names on the board in a warm welcome.

With a quick glance down to your watch. "-and just in time too,".

The sun had peaked over the horizon no more than thirty minutes ago which means that theatrical parents would be rolling in any minute now to send off their kids to what could possibly be their first day away from them.

You both took the last few minutes to run down the hall and get changed, making sure you both looked ready to take on 22 pre-schoolers. Although you weren't the head teacher, you still had just as much of a responsibility as Vanessa did and it wasn't always easy.

The scar on your upper arm which was victim to the shark-like teeth of an ambitious little boy last year can attest to that.

You smiled warmly to some parents who passed by you in the halls on your way back to the classroom. Some familiar faces, some new, although based on the direction they were walking, they weren't any kids in your class.

By the time you returned to yours, there were already two parents bidding their farewells with their energetic offspring who were already reaching for the crayons you'd left on each table.

You slowly made your way to the front with Vanessa as the two of you prepared to introduce yourselves to the large crowd of parents and students that situated themselves around the room.

The energy was high, you could practically feel some of the anxiety and excitement from the crowd.

"Hello everyone!" Vanessa starts, clasping her hands together, "On behalf of Sunshine Circles Daycare, we want to give you all a warm welcome to our class."

Vanessa introduces herself professionally before briefly gesturing to you, cueing your smile, "And this is Ms. Hill, she will be assisting both me and the students around the classroom. I wouldn't be able to do this without her." You nod along, preparing yourself to speak.

"Yes, so if ever Ms. Powell is unavailable, don't be afraid to share any questions or concerns with me that you have about the class or your child." Out of sight, somewhere in the crowd a pair shuffled through the large group of bodies and made their way to the front.

"We're looking forward to-" You paused, your eyes meeting the eyes of the man who just emerged from the crowd while holding the small hand of who you presumed was his son, he looked a little younger than the rest of the parents, and significantly buffer if you must add.

You could see peaks of his soft blue hair sticking out from underneath his black beanie that matched his black wife beater. He flashes you a coy smile, so innocent and handsome to the point he'd made you forget your train of thought and completely forget what you were in the middle of saying.

"I think what Ms. Hill was about to say was that we're looking forward to having a wonderful year full of learning and fun." Vanessa fills in your blanks and all you could utter was a small 'mhm!'.

With that said, the parents that'd been here since the very beginning had naturally begun to take their leave, not without a tight hug and reassuring kiss to their child's forehead of course.

"Sorry we're late," You turn around, and it's as if the air was sucked out of your lungs. The man was even more stunning up close, but that was something you vowed you would never acknowledge again. He's the guardian of one of your students, it would be unprofessional.

"That's no problem at all, life happens," you chirp, almost too happily. "Isn't that the truth, Ryan here couldn't seem to find his favourite shoes and refused to wear anything but." The man smiles, and wow, even his smile was attractive.

If you thought his smile was contagious you just couldn't stop yourself from beaming when you finally looked down to meet Ryan's big grin. "Look! It's lightning McQueen!" He shouts, stomping his feet at one hundred miles a minute, the base of his sneakers flashing red and white as he does so.

"Your shoes are awesome! I wish mine could do that." You return his big energy with a bit of a softer tone, oblivious to the way the man is watching you intently. All of a sudden Ryan was hopping up and down, tugging on his dad's arm, "Can I colour?!" He points to the table full of markers and blank papers.

"Well, you're going to have to ask Ms. Hill first, okay buddy?" The man looks at you with a damn near glow in his gaze, "Of course it's okay. Use as many colours as you'd like." Before you could even finish your sentence, Ryan was long gone, only the flashes of his sneakers were proof that he hadn't teleported.

"Have you been teaching here long?" He asks, prompting you to shake your head. "This is actually only my second year teaching here," subconsciously his plump bottom lip found itself victim between his teeth. "Ah," he sighs.

There was a brief pause in your conversation. As if it were planned, both of your gazes dropped down to analyze the other's left hand, looking for any signs of that metallic band wrapped around the ring finger.

Seems like you were both in the clear, for now.

Your conversation resumed as if the ring inspection never even happened and soon the both of you were finally making introductions. "The kids call me Ms. Hill, but you're more than welcome to call me Y/n." That lip ring was taunting you as it sat so comfortably in his plush pink lips that stretched into a soft smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Jungkook."

"Goddamn it." You mutter. Giving the projector another hard hit in the back as it flickered and failed to turn on. It had been giving you a hard time all week.

You're at least grateful it let you have a successful first week of the year but now it was acting up more than ever. Kids would be coming any minute and Vanessa was stuck in traffic, so you would somehow need to find a way to fix this and supervise all before--

"Good morning Ms. Hill," Never mind you think, giving the projector one last frustrated tap. Disregarding it as if it never happened and focusing on Jungkook and Ryan who just walked in.

Ryan shouts a cheery good morning of his own before getting his hands on the toy car he's grown fond of over the last week. Unspokenly declaring it as his own.

"I couldn't help but notice.. and hear your frustrations with the projector from down the hall. Something wrong?" He takes two confident strides towards the equipment with you trailing along.

"Yeah, it's been breaking down all week. I was hoping to show the kids a video today, but it seems I may have to improvise." He didn't respond with anything more than his warm smile as he laid his hand down on the top of the projector giving it a once over.

His brows furrow ever so slightly before he lets out a little laugh.

"What's so funny?" your arms cross instinctively, eyes never leaving his lean frame as he practically struts over to the outlet and properly plugs in the cord, the graphics now displaying perfectly on the screen.

"In all of my years working in tech, that may have been one of the hardest cases to solve." He teases and you subconsciously let your tongue poke the inside of your cheek, failing to hide an embarrassed smile.

You waved to the parents who were dropping off more students, "If you ever have any more technical issues, I'd be happy to help." He reaches into his back pocket and places one of his business cards in your hand. "I will, thank you."

You shook off whatever the hell it was that was bubbling in your stomach, and reminded yourself things were strictly professional and he was only offering to be nice, nothing more.

The weeks were flying by without you realizing it until Thanksgiving was mere weeks around the corner. Which meant today was show and tell. Vanessa instructed everyone to sit on the carpet in a big circle.

Yesterday you reminded parents to help their child to find something they loved at home so they could bring it to show and tell.

"Thanksgiving is a special day of the year where we-" Vanessa was in the middle of explaining from where she sat crisscrossed on the carpet in the circle while you picked up the abandoned crayons and papers on the desk.

"Eat lots of food," cute giggles filled the room from Carly's outburst. "Yes, that's right. We eat lots of food on Thanksgiving and it's a day to be grateful for everything you have. Can anyone tell me what it means to be grateful for something?"

The class had never been so quiet, full of scrunched brows and blank stares. "It means to be happy with what you have. How many of you have toys at home?" Almost all hands shot up at once, you were afraid someone would lose an eye.

"Do you like your toys,? The room filled with lots of loud and affirmative responses, "To be grateful for something like your toys means showing them extra love and saying thank you to your parents who bought them."

By the time you'd finished cleaning up and joined the circle, they were about halfway through the circle for show and tell, everyone getting a chance to say what they brought and why they loved it along with passing it around the circle.

"Thank you for sharing Ms. Cuddlepuff with us Riley."

"Ryan, what did you bring?" He practically lights up when his turn finally comes around. He introduced his favourite blue race car, and described it as fast and shiny, even holding it while he spun the wheels for us.

"What an amazing car! Do you want to pass it around?" He shakes his head. You tried to be gentle understanding why he wouldn't want to share, "Don't you want your friends to be able to see your amazing car too?" He shakes his head, hugging his toy close to his chest and scooting further back, removing himself from the circle.

"Ryan-" Vanessa tries to reason but he starts to yell, "I don't want to share! It's mine!" He stomps his feet, the lights on his shoes flashing red, a similar shade to his furious expression.

You looked over to Vanessa, the both of you deciding you weren't going to fight him on it.

"Okay Jamie, what did you bring today?" He shakes his head as if he is mimicking Ryan's behaviour. "I don't want to share either."

Oh boy.

Finding a way to get the rest of the class to share their objects had taken all of your willpower and the rest of the day, right until parents were walking in, ready for pick up.

"Hey," You smile as you watched Jungkook walk in wearing his typical white collared shirt with the top button open giving you only the slightest peak of the silver chain beneath that sat atop his honey-kissed skin--

"Daddy!" Ryan squeaked, running off to grab his coat and shoes.

"How was he today?" You tried to hide your regret but he noticed it, no matter how fast it flashed across your features. "What is it?" His voice was soft, welcoming any feedback.

"He had a bit of a hard time sharing during the show and tell. He didn't want his classmates to touch his car, which I understand but we try to encourage the students to be kind and share." Your heart was pounding, you always hated these kinds of talks.

You felt that it was just criticism, but in reality, it was just one rainy in comparison to one hundred sunny ones. Jungkook exhaled heavily. "I don't know what is with him and this car, he won't even let me hold it."

As if on cue, Ryan comes running back to his father with his jacket on and car in hand. His dad ruffles his hair playfully while the boy wraps his arms around his father's legs.

"I'm sorry about what happened. We're working on it, I promise." Nothing but sincerity rolled off his tongue as he looked down at the child who clung to his jeans.

"Come on buddy, let's go. Say bye to Ms. Hill."

"Bye, Ms. Hill!" He waves back to you before walking out the door.

As the clock rolled closer the 4:30, all the kids had gone home and it was just you and Vanessa going through the schedules for tomorrow.

"So how long are you gonna keep flirting with Ryan's dad." maybe you'd put on too much lotion earlier, it was pure coincidence that your pencil had immediately fallen from your hand.

She laughs as if something were hilarious. "I am so not flirting with him." She rolls her eyes, "Oh please, I have never seen you spend nearly half as much time talking to the other parents as much as you talk to him. Not to mention the hearts in your eyes."

You let your head fall into your hands out of sheer embarrassment, "I don't know what to do!" You almost shriek into your sweaty palms.

"A word of advice, save yourself the trouble and don't get involved. I don't believe that he's married but that doesn't mean there are no strings attached either. Believe me, I've been there, things can get messy and it's just not something you want."

Vanessa was bout seven years older than you, somewhere around 32 so you always took her advice to heart. "But didn't you end up marrying them, and then have two children?" She goes silent. "Yeah, well life is unpredictable."

You groan, letting your body fall back onto the carpet.

"Attention passengers, This is your driver speaking. I regret to inform you that we are currently experiencing a mechanical issue, and the bus has broken down. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

Your head rolled back and hit the wall behind you. This is fantastic. It was supposed to be a great day today. It's Friday today. Specifically the last day before your three-day long weekend before the long weekend with Thanksgiving falling on the Monday.

You checked the time, 7:45. You should be there in 10 minutes, and honestly, you considered getting off the bus and walking but there were about 4 inches of freshly fallen snow from last night covering the city and it was far too cold to embark on such a journey at this time of day.

You wouldn't be there until 9 at the earliest.

Meanwhile,

"Have a great day Ryno. Daddy loves you." Jungkook places a quick peck on Ryan's forehead watching him join his friends. He couldn't help himself from scanning the class for you, wondering where you were.

In the meantime he approached Vanessa, handing her a small gift box. "I know Ryan has such a big personality, so here's a little something to help you get through the day." He smiles, "Happy Thanksgiving."

She was shocked to be receiving a gift for Thanksgiving, she usually only expected them around the holidays. It was a $50 gift card to her favourite coffee shop, she has their signature cup of coffee on her desk every morning. "Thank you, Mr. Jeon, this is incredibly thoughtful, and Ryan is such a delight to teach."

"I also have something for Ms. Hill, but I haven't seen her. Is she away today?" Vanessa's brows scrunched, realizing that you would usually be there by now. Her phone begins to ring, "Oh- This is her calling now." Jungkook didn't know whether to stay and listen but he couldn't bring himself to walk away.

"Your bus broke down? Where?"

"East of Park Avenue? That's 30 minutes away." Jungkook's brain was doing summersaults around a mental map he was programming in his head trying to locate where you were based on the information he was hearing.

The conversation continued for a minute more until it ended with Vanessa reminding you to 'stay warm'. "God, that's terrible. It's freezing outside." Jungkook frets and Vanessa manages to contain her thoughts from expressing themselves on her face, suppressing the smirk and opting for a head nod instead.

No less than 5 minutes had passed when Jungkook found himself behind the wheel driving towards your location. The minutes passed like seconds when he spotted the bus sitting on the side of the road.

Parking right behind it, he stepped out of the car and walked along the sides of it trying to spot you, but you saw him first. At first, you couldn't believe it but once you saw that ring tucked into his bottom lip, all doubts were gone.

You grabbed your bag and stepped off the bus, meeting him there at the steps. Looking down at him as the snow gently fell on his beanie, neither of you spoke. Your eyes seemed to be doing all the talking.

"Er-hem." Someone cleared their throat behind you, letting you know that they also wanted to get off and you were blocking the way. Apologizing you stepped off and to the side.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard about what had happened and I couldn't stand there and do nothing. It's freezing out here." You could hardly look at him, he was just too cute, his nose and cheeks were beginning to turn a little rosy from the cold breeze that swept the snow across the sky.

"You came all this way just to give me a ride?" There were puffs of condensation with every breath and he nodded slowly, a little afraid he was coming off as a creep. "Y-yeah, I hope that's alright with you."

"That's perfectly fine with me, let's go before I lose feeling in my fingers for good." he snickers as you practically run towards the car that he'd unlocked.

You were so relieved to be sitting in a warm car with heated seats.

It was no time before Jungkook pulled out and began the careful drive back to the daycare.

The silence was comfortable and it gave you time to focus on regaining feelings in your limbs.

"I never knew that you took the bus," Jungkook starts, turning your face away from the flurries that fall outside the window and landing on the side of his face as he feigns concentration on the road.

"It's my only option since I don't drive," Jungkook's jaw fell open. He tried to catch it in time but it was too late, "Yeah yeah I know. I'm 25 and I don't drive." He takes advantage of the red light to face you, "There's no shame in that. I didn't mean to come off as judgy I was just surprised."

"No, I know. I'm not mad, I'm actually used to it. " The silence resumes, "Is there a reason why you don't drive?" He immediately regretted asking, he felt like he was prying and didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You were already in his car for god's sake.

"You don't have to-"

"I was 19."

Never mind, he thinks. You seemed more than ready to share.

"I was coming home from school, I had just finished my first exam of many, the roads were dark and I was tired. I thought I saw something run across the street but I told myself I was seeing things. Suddenly there was a thud. My car rocked over and over again, so finally, I stopped. I got out and I was terrified to see the trail of blood that ran behind my wheel. There was a black cat that got caught on my tires and kept getting dragged and rolled around for 20 yards."

Jungkook's hand had somehow found its way cupped over his mouth throughout your story, nothing could have prepared him for a story like that.

"I'm a monster. I know. I've never driven since that day. It's best for the world If I simply don't drive." Now resuming his driving, he took one hand off the wheel to place on your shoulder. "Don't talk like that. You're not a monster. It's not your fault. It's not like you did it on purpose. I'm sure the cat forgives you."

You shake your head, "It doesn't change what I did."

Somehow the conversation had taken a brighter turn to the long weekend. "What are your plans for the weekend?" You ask him as he turns into the parking lot of the daycare.

"Same as always, Ryan and I will probably watch movies, cook and do some crafts." Your heart warmed at the engaged weekend he had ahead of him. "That sounds so sweet. I'm sure you guys have loads of fun." He nods, "How about you?"

You laugh sadly, "My parents decided to ditch the cold weather this year and headed to Florida a few weeks ago, so I'll be thankful for wool socks and gossip girl." he laughs.

"You know, It'd be a shame to spend the holidays on your own. You're more than welcome to join our festivities." you looked out the window, not in disinterest but so that he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.

He parks, "No I wouldn't want to impose on-"

"I insist. You wouldn't be doing anything of the sort. it would be nice to have you." You smile. "Okay, I'll be there,"

The hours flew by faster than you could even realize. Practically startled to see a parent walking into the classroom ready to pick up their child, and just like that, the day was over.

There were no more than a handful of kids left, but no more than the usual 5 or 6 whose parents had signed them up for aftercare due to their schedules, including Ryan who you just watched offer his crayons to his classmate Lia.

Vanessa was quick to acknowledge his kindness and gave him a sticker, you would have loved to have been part of the moment but unfortunately, you were just pulled into the hall by another teacher being asked to supervise another class while she used the bathroom.

By the time you returned, you saw Jungkook and Ryan packing up the last of their things getting ready to go, but he seemed almost relieved to see you.

"I never got the chance to give this to you earlier this morning," He hands you a small bag. You were stunned at what was inside. "In the spirit of thanksgiving, I wanted to show you my gratitude." He smiles.

You pry the bag open delicately moving over the tissue paper to see a hardcover novel. You knew the cover anywhere. "I've been trying to get my hands on this book for months! It's been sold out everywhere how did you get it?"

A sly grin slowly works its way across his features but he doesn't say. "How did you even know I wanted this?" You were trying your best to resist the urge to hug him. "I'd only seen you with the previous book laying on your desk wide open a dozen times, and all the sticky notes you'd have sticking out. It was a lucky guess that you were a fan of the series."

Stunned to silence, you let your smile speak for itself. "I love it. Thank you so much." His hand raises to his chest as a sign of relief but it is actually him trying to calm his racing heart. He was afraid you wouldn't like it; but what was there not to like?

How couldn't you like it?

Why couldn't you find anything you liked? Nearly half your closet was on your bed, quickly falling to the floor over time as you searched high and low for something to wear. This would be the first time Jungkook would see you outside of your workloads so you wanted to look good, but not too good of course.

You didn't want to seem like you were trying too hard. Being effortlessly flawless was the look you were trying to go for but you fear you've passed that point as you started to break a sweat a few minutes ago.

Unsure of how much time has passed, feeling stuck in the endless fashion time warp continuum. The pit in your stomach suddenly grew three times larger once you'd realized you had no more than 30 minutes to get ready if you wanted to catch your bus.

Begrudgingly, you finally picked something to wear. A minimalistic brown crew neck with your black Lulu leggings and beige wool socks that would match perfectly with your Uggs. You wanted to look cute but still put together, so you decided to slick your hair up into a neat bun.

Scrambling to grab your bag and your house keys before you paced your way down the street to the bus stop.

Watching the apartment buildings slowly become more narrow and shorter as you saw more and more modern condos. Only 20 minutes had passed on your commute until it was time to begin your 7-minute walk to your destination.

With one last sneak peek into your bag to make sure the desserts you'd brought were still in order and weren't dishevelled at some point during your journey.

Looking back up to the door, ringing the bell and waiting no more than 10 seconds before an over-eager Ryan swung the door open, out of sight but not out of earshot, you could still hear Jungkook's sweet voice scolding his son.

"Ryan, what did I tell you about opening the door?" Finally, he comes into sight from around a bend inside revealing an entirely new Jungkook.

He looked, good. Better than good. He looked hot.

Wearing an army green Essentials hoodie paired with beige cargos and a silver chain that hung around his neck.

Oh, and his hair was blonde.

Surprised that your eyes hadn't fallen out of their sockets at the sight of his freshly bleached locks with his naturally dark roots. God, he was so fine.

"Hey! Come in, come in. " He steps to the side and Ryan is gently nudged over by his dad's leg to make room for you and your things as you step inside.

Your senses are immediately welcomed by the scent of mahogany, carefully chosen as it mingles with the comforting aromas of a Thanksgiving feast in the making.

"Hi, Ms. Hill!" Ryan shouts, loud enough for you to hear from 50 feet away. He was just the cutest, "Hi, Ryan!"

Jungkook smiled, "I'm glad you could make it," instinctively reaching out to take the bag from your hands so you could focus on taking off your shoes and jacket. "I brought this for you guys." You say, prompting Jungkook to peek into the bad, grinning at the sight of the mini chocolate cupcakes.

"I can't guarantee these will make it to tomorrow."

Once your boots were off and sat neatly near the door, Jungkook offered to take your jacket from you, entrusting Ryan with the duty of holding the bag with the desserts and sending him off to place them somewhere in the kitchen.

"Your hair." You finally say, giving your neck a minor strain as you look up to the man as he leads you further into the house. Everything was styled so neatly.

The colour palette consists of soft whites and beige with a splash of greens and turquoise. The fireplace was lit, emanating a gentle warmth throughout the open concept. It gave the living room a cozy feel along with the brown fleece throw blanket that was placed carefully over his sectional couch.

"Yeah, I got pretty sick of the blue, I thought it was time for a change." With a mind of their own, his hands run through his hair before he gives it a shake. "Do you like it?" He knew the answer, you're sure he did.

It's like a demi-god asking if they were attractive, the answer was obvious. "It would be a lie if I said I didn't." You leaned onto the kitchen island, your line of sight landing on the four-year-old who busied himself with the pile of crayons and paper on the carpet.

You hated how easily the two of you fell into natural conversation almost forgetting that it was Thanksgiving if it weren't for the sudden waft of a delicious meal in the making hitting your nose. "Something smells delicious." Your nose twitched cutely as you sniffed; your curious brown eyes watching Jungkook as he rounded the island closer to you to check on the food in the oven.

"Hmmm... It'll be about another hour or so, I hope that's alright?" You'd decided to finally plant yourself down somewhere, inwardly unable to decide where since there were so many options, the big comfy couch, the table or the barstool chair that you finally decided to go with.

"In the meantime, do you want anything to drink? I have water, champagne, white wine, red wine, apple cider, coffee, milk- oh! and Apple juice." you can't help but giggle into your hand as he lists off what seems to be a never-ending list of beverages.

"Apple juice is fine, thanks." Or at least you thought it was the safe choice until you heard a loud objection bubble out of Ryan's throat. His voice was absolutely enraged. "No! That's mine!" His little steps quicken over to your feet, reaching for the juice box from your hand.

"Ryan. What did I tell you about sharing?" He doesn't listen, his face becoming more and more frustrated the longer he goes without your (his) juice box in his hands. His small hands reach out for you.

One could blame it on your background of teaching when you had an idea. Reaching for the child-sized cup on the counter as you popped open the juice box.

"Is it okay if we share it? You can have some and I can have some." He still didn't seem entirely convinced but he calmed down a little watching you squeeze half of the box into his cup before handing it down to him.

Holding the cup securely with his two hands he looks down into the cup with an inquisitive look, as if questioning your motives behind your generosity. "What do you say to Ms. Hill for being so nice and sharing?" He looks up at you, with no emotion on his face for an uncomforting amount of time, scanning you.

"Thank you, Ms. Hill!" He beams with a big smile and scuttles back to his drawing station, but Jungkook can't risk the little adventurer ruining his carpet and orders him to drink it in the kitchen. At least that way any spills can be wiped away from the tile.

Jungkook couldn't get over how patient you were, but he supposed it to be expected. You worked with dozens of kids every day for a living. You must be a saint. He's sure he would've lost it.

Jungkook groans, letting his head fall onto his arms as he leans onto the counter with a long sigh, one that lifts a bit of exhaustion from within him. "Everything alright?"

He nods, "'Jus' never thought being a single father would be this difficult. Every day it's eat sleep work repeat, on top of being a dad to a child who just can't seem to share with others, and it makes me wonder if it's my fault."

Maybe it was the hazy scented candles getting to your brain, the toasty fireplace nearby giving you warm fuzzies or maybe the apple juice had a little kick to it but you took a leap of boldness to place your hand on his shoulder.

Watching his eyes trail from your short manicured nails to your big brown eyes that looked at him with the utmost sincerity. Like a pool chocolate kindness. "He's a great kid, Jungkook. Every child goes through a rebellious stage at some point, it's practically inevitable. I've seen this over a thousand times, it doesn't take away from how special he is, just look at him."

The two of you observe the preschooler as he hums the tune to an incomprehensible song with his tongue slightly poking out as he coloured his papers passionately. "Thank you, Y/n." Your head whips around at the warm contact of his hand on yours, it didn't feel alarming at all, it was nice if anything.

"Wow. I don't think I could eat another bite, that may just be the best meal I've ever had." You groan, a limp hand on your stomach as you lean back in your chair, sitting across from Ryan whose placemat was covered in various foods and sauces that he was told to stop playing with half through dinner.

Jungkook grins from ear to ear, "Thanks, it's nice to hear." You sigh, "No seriously, where did you learn to cook like that? And more importantly, when can you teach me?" His head falls back as he laughs right from his chest. You couldn't help but think how much you were enjoying yourself.

"Funny you should say that," Jungkook picks up the empty plates from the table, putting them in the sink before walking out of view briefly leaving you with Ryan who stared at you with a grin.

"Where did your dad go?" His smile grew even wider if possible before bringing his gravy-covered index finger to his lips making a 'shush' noise. No more than 5 seconds passed before Jungkook returned with a pumpkin about the size of your head.

"Who wants to make pumpkin pie?" You laugh, unable to take him seriously.

"No I can't Jungkook- NO!" You shout, afraid you'd collapse from the lack of oxygen that was reaching your lungs from so much laughter as Jungkook was currently holding your hand trying to get you to scoop out some of the pumpkin seeds.

"You can do it, Ms. Hill!" Ryan cheers you on as your fingers make contact with the guts against your will. They were slimy, and soft, and triggered your sensory issues in every way imaginable. You gagged while Ryan laughed until his face was red.

Scooping out the last of them and placing them into the bag that Jungkook would dump into the compost later.

The three of you popped the pumpkin pie into the oven together and transitioned into your next set of activities. Soon the three of you made your own custom turkeys out of construction paper and googly eyes.

Which led you to now. The three of you snuggled up under the big brown blanket that was once just decoration but now provided warmth along with the crackling fireplace.

Now halfway into the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving movie, you looked into your side where Ryan had nestled himself comfortably, soft snores leaving his mouth with each breath.

"He's just the cutest." You say, moving one of his hairs out of his face, watching him while Jungkook watched you. Nothing is more appealing to him than watching you care for Ryan. "When did you know you wanted to start working with kids?" Jungkook asks, prompting you to think endlessly but you couldn't come to a conclusion.

"I don't know honestly. Maybe it's because I grew up in a pretty big family. Even though my immediate family is just me and my parents I was always the unspoken babysitter at family events, watching over all my younger cousins all the time."

"Well if no one has told you, let me be the first to say you're amazing." You turn to him, it was long past sunset, leaving the living room with a darker ambiance than when you'd first arrived but the warm glow of the flames on the side of Jungkook's face paired with that look in his eyes tempting you.

He leaned in ever so slightly but you looked towards the boy that was stirring uncomfortably in his sleep as if you were bothering him. With his still closed he flipped around to lay his head on the couch cushions instead.

It was impossible to contain your soft giggles at his sass even when he was sleeping. "You want something to drink?" Jungkook offers, "Please." you chuckle, unravelling yourself from the tangle of blankets and following him to the kitchen.

He poured you both a glass of wine, resuming your previous conversation from where you stood in the corner of the kitchen against the counter near the oven that radiated a glorious smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon.

The tension could be cut with a knife. The way the two of you were looking at each other, practically stripping the other down with your eyes. Before you knew it, Jungkook was leaning into you and this time you definitely could blame it on the wine.

Placing your glass down on the counter behind you without thought and pulling his face to yours before finally pressing your lips against his own. Putting your heart into it before he pulled away, looking minorly dishevelled and flustered, "I-I was just reaching for my phone," He points weakly, his joints feeling as though they could fail him any second.

Your head rotates in horror to see his phone was in fact behind you and buzzing-- "Oh my god--" You held your red face in utter embarrassment, turning to walk away from him in shame but Jungkook would never allow that. Instantly grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back into him.

Your hips pressed flush against each other as he initiated a deep kiss, the kind you see at the end of a romance movie, nothing but passion and pent-up feelings. Feelings that he's held for you since the day he saw you.

He backed you up into the counter, your hands scrambling to brace yourself on his firm chest and he groaned softly into your mouth causing your knees to go weak. The kiss lasted longer than you thought you could hold your breath for, never wanting it to end.

"Wow-" you puff out a breath of air after the best kiss of your life. "A great cook and an even better kisser-- What can't you do?" For the first time, Jungkook's cheeks tint a rosy shade of pink but there's no time to respond as he hears Ryan complain.

"Daddy, I'm tired." You see his little head pop up from behind the couch with a bedhead of hair as he rubs his eye. "Yeah? You wanna get ready for bed little man? Come on let's go." Jungkook urges, turning to you with apologetic eyes, "I'll be right back, keep an eye on the pie for me?" You smile and nod.

Watching him disappear down the hall almost in a trace. A trance that was interrupted by the ceaseless buzzing of his phone. Buzz after Buzz after Buzz.

You shouldn't.

But the buzzing wouldn't stop.

What if it was an emergency?

You peeked at the screen.

Hana

-Where are you?

-I can't stop thinking about our night together.

-Pick up, I want to talk to you.

-When will I see you again? :(

Your stomach twisted, and you were certain it wasn't because of the wine. The oven timer goes off. How comedic. You shake it off, using the oven mitts to place the pie on the stove but ultimately deciding you wouldn't be able to stay any longer.

You didn't want to be the other woman, or the 'main' woman for that matter. You wanted nothing to do with someone who was possibly seeing two people at once.

Quietly you grabbed your things and made your way towards the door. Slipping into your Uggs and slinging your side bag over your shoulder when Jungkook sees you about to leave.

"Wait, Y/n. Where are you going? What's wrong?" Nothing but concern and confusion was written all over his face.

"I had a really great time tonight, Jungkook, Thank you. But I should really get going." Already twisting the door open and stepping through it, letting the frosty air nip at your cheeks and sweep by Jungkook's feet.

"it's dark and it's freezing outside, let me give you a ride." You object, "It's fine, it's only a 15-minute bus. I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

Like a whirlwind, you spun his world around and by the time he blinked you were gone.

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lillsisamarshmallow · 7 days

Text

Getting back to Normal (18)

Summary: Y/n and her boys enjoy the first day in their new house and get up to their usual shenanigan's

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: None? Let me know if I missed any!

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I yawned loudly as I slowly cracked my eyes open with the sun spilling into the room, I could feel the skin around my mouth tightly stretching as I closed my mouth. My head was slightly spinning as I forced myself to set up from wherever I was, my back ached slightly, and I had to pause for a second before continuing to sit up straight. I looked at my surroundings. I was on the floor, surrounded by various cardboard boxes and paper, a pair of scissors and some tape.

I raised my hand to rub my head as I tried to remember what had happened. It was late, and I couldn't sleep. Looking around, pieces of last night kept coming into my brain until I finally remembered what happened. I must have fallen asleep when I was making those flowers. I thought to myself as I reached to pick up an intricate paper flower, followed by another and another. Right.

I looked up at the small clock I had on the wall, 8:27am, I wasn't asleep for long. I groaned as I lifted myself up off the floor, stumbling slightly, before I made my way out of the room and downstairs. I wasn't fully awake, so it wasn't surprising that I bumped into someone.

I gasp quickly as I feel myself collide with someone else, tumbling over and falling. I braced myself to hit the ground but felt my body spin before being held against someone else's.

“Are you alright? You need to watch where you’re going.” He joked at the end. I looked up at him and he looked back down at me, his black, rounded ears looking similar to a silhouette, His fluffy brown hair fell over his forehead and ended near his unmatching eyes. His lips pulled into a square smile, the cute moles that adorned them on full display.

I smiled before promptly apologising and laughing it off, he let me go and I stumbled slightly before regaining my balance. Me and Taehyung made our way into the kitchen, I wasn't so tired that I didn't notice his arm that never wavered from its position around my waist until we sat down.

I smiled up at Jin and Jungkook who were cooking in the kitchen in front of me, although Jungkook seemed to just be messing around despite Jin’s glare. I looked down as a cup was placed in front of me, I wrapped my hands around it, the warmth immediately transferring into my cold fingers. I looked up at the person who placed it in front of me, Hoseok gave me a knowing smile before he walked over to sit at the dining table with Taehyung and Jimin with his own cup and plate of food.

I wasn't overly hungry, but Jin made sure that I ate something before I left, which I was grateful for because I knew that not eating now would only result in me getting hangry later. I walked around for a little bit, the boy must have done some unpacking this morning as I could see more empty boxes folded up at the door and a few more things had been put out. I walked upstairs, still holding my mug, and then I went up to the top level.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I noticed someone else was already here, he was laying on the outside couch, his black tail resting over him, the sun rays casting over him like a golden blanket. He looked so peaceful.

“Yoongi?”

I watched as his tail moved and he opened his eyes, seeming to already be looking at me. I felt a twang of guilt for disrupting his peace, but it quickly faded away as he beckoned me over to him. I gladly walked over to him and sat down at the end on the outside couch.

I looked over the railings and the view was breathtaking. I could see our backyard and the forest it led into, it seemed to go on forever, tall pine trees littered the ground. Far away, where the stress ended, I could see a mountain with snowy peaks, it was beautiful. The serenity of this place was like no other, the air felt fresh, and it held a chill to it making me huddle my mug closer to my chest and squeeze my fingers around it harder.

I could hear the painting noise of the forest, birds flying about, chirping, and singing their little hearts away, I couldn't help the smile that spread on my lips as I took it all in. But soon I realised that I was most definitely not dressed to be on top of the roof, I shivered from the cold and took a sip from my mug, the hot liquid only doing so much to warm me.

Suddenly I felt a hand grab hold of the mug, my first instinct was to hold on tighter before I remembered that it was just Yoongi and I let him move it from my grasp, he placed it on the table in front of him.

“Come here.” He mumbled quietly, but still politely. I obliged and stood up and walked closer to him, I was surprised when he pulled me down into him on the couch. He wrapped one arm around me, pulling me closer to him and further onto the couch. My breath hitched in my throat as I felt him move before draping a blanket over both of us, one that I hadn't even noticed before this.

It took a second before I fully relaxed into his hold, resting my head on the small cushion, and burying my face into his neck as I felt my body warm up. I heard him chuckle lightly and his chest rumbled, and he squeezed me slightly. I smiled as I closed my eyes. Sleep came to me quickly since I had only gotten around 2 or 3 hours last night.

I was comfortable in the cat hybrids hold, despite the cold air I was very warm and cosy, I could hear the rustle of trees and the chirping of birds, my soft breath mixed with Yoongi’s and his body didn't stop the faint quiet hum that helped lull me to sleep.

I felt the sun burning into my eyes through my eyelids. I whined out in annoyance as I tried my best to avoid the death ray by turning my head down and pushing it against Yoongi, who was still laid in front of me. I heard his chuckle and his chest moved from the sound.

I wasn't ready to get up, I could lay down with yoongi and bask in the sun for hours, I didn't want to get up. But yoongi obviously had other plans.

“C’mon, let’s get you up now.” He spoke as he shuffled and sat himself up before pulling me along with him. I tried to flop back down and make it harder for him to carry me, but he wouldn't budge. He laughed at my stubbornness as I glared at him, I could feel that my hair was messy, and my eyes had not fully adjusted to the light so I was squinting a lot.

I pulled myself to stand up fully and i leaned on him, resting my head on the front of his shoulder, I grumbled about how I didn't want to get up, but he insisted, in one hand he held the mug I had brought up here, and the other one he held onto my hand with, lacing his fingers with mine before guiding me down the stairs in my tired state.

It must have been around lunch time by now as when we got to the ground level of the house, I could smell Seokjin’s cooking, and I could hear Taehyung and Jimin arguing over something. We both walked into the kitchen, and I was feeling more awake now. Yoongi led me over to sit down on the couch, he tapped my shoulder affirmingly, and I gave him a reassuring smile before he walked into the kitchen, putting my now old mug in the sink.

I pulled my legs up onto the couch and curled them to my side as I looked at the boys. They were both having a ‘discussion’ about something, I glanced over to the tv where the credits for ‘Mulan’ were playing, indicating that they had just finished the movie.

“Snow white is the best Disney princess. She is the prettiest.” Taehyung argued to Jungkook, an over exaggerated expression on his face.

“No, she’s not! Sleeping beauty is literally ' ‘The fairest of them ALL’. ” Jungkook defended whilst throwing his arms around in the air as he stood right in front of Taehyung.

“She pricked her fingers on a spinning wheel!” Taehyung yelled. I stared wide eyes at the both of them as I was utterly confused. Why are they arguing about Disney princesses? And wasn't ‘Mulan’ the movie that was just on? I stayed quiet as I turned back to the TV. It was Mulan’s movie that had finished playing, but as I watched their ‘recently watched’ I saw a plethora of Disney princess movies.

“I’m too tired for this.” I mumbled,barely above a whisper.

They continued to throw insults at both each other and the princess they had deemed their favourite until Jin yelled at them from across the house, and at that they finally calmed down just as Jimin made his way down the stairs, his eyes widening as he saw me. His tail wagged quickly, and his ears perked up as he walked faster over to me, I smiled back at him as he stood behind where I was seated on the couch.

He leaned on the back of the couch and draped his arms over my shoulder before linking them loosely in front of my chest. I reached up one hand and softly held on to his arm as we both looked over at the youngest hybrids.

“Who’s your favourite, Y/n? Sleeping beauty, or snow white?” Taehyung asked me while placing his hands under his chin and smiling as he said his preferred princess.

“Uhm, I like Tiana.” I said to them, not thinking much about my answer. Both the boys seemed annoyed at my answers but before they could answer Jimin cut them off.

“My favourite princess is Y/n.” He said through a muffled voice as his face was buried in my hair, my face heated up slightly at what he said.

Jungkook spluttered over his words before accusing Jimin of ‘cheating’ which made the both of us laugh out loud. The bunny hybrid tried to change his answer by saying that I was now his favourite, but Jimin said that he wasn't sharing. Me and Taehyung laughed at the other two as they began bickering, Jimin held on to me tighter as Jungkook tried to pull me away.

I gasped out loud as I felt Jimin move his hand down to my waist before he lifted me up into his arms, he moved one hand under my legs and the other behind my back as he pulled me close to his chest and took a few steps back while he regained his balance.

I laughed as I instinctively wrapped my hands around his neck, turning away from him back to the others. Taehyung was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, still laughing, Jungkook seemed shocked as he stared at me.

“You cannot have her. She is mine.” Jimin declared proudly, not waiting a second for Jungkook to catch up, he bolted out of the room whilst still holding me tightly. I pulled my face into his chest before peeking over his shoulder, where I saw Jungkook running after us. Jimin slowed down as he opened the back door, running out and going around the house on the porch.

I could hear Jimin’s giggling as he continued to evade Jungkook, who was most definitely catching up to us. We went past the window to the kitchen, and I briefly saw the others looking at us confused. I jolted around as Jimin got down the stairs only getting a few feet into the backyard before Jungkook came barrelling into us knocking us both onto the cold grass.

The yard erupted into laughter as the three of us collapsed on the grass. It took a second but eventually I hauled myself upwards and glanced over at the other two, Jimin, yelled at the youngest, stopping in his sentence to keep laughing. Jungkook just laughed at the elder as he rolled over on the grass. I glanced over to the door and saw Jin and Yoongi rush out, followed by a barely able to stand Taehyung. I gave them a quick thumbs up letting them know that we were all okay and I watched as their concerned expressions turned into smiles.

The 3 of us picked ourselves up and made our way into the kitchen. I plopped down onto a chair next to Namjoon as I caught my breath. Jin has just finished cooking as I spotted a few plates full of food. Before I could ask for my own, a plate was already placed inside of me, I smiled up at Hoseok and thanked him and Jin for the food before I started eating.

The food was nice and warm, perfect for the cold weather we were having, soon enough everyone sat down and started eating and talking. It was a relaxing lunch, we talked about the house, and Jungkook brought up the Disney princesses again, and we decided that we would have to go shopping soon for a few more things and we needed more winter clothes.

“Can we have cake?” Taehyung asked with his mouth still full, he glanced between me and Jin as he asked, Jin sighed but before he could say anything I spoke up.

“Sure, you can help me make one after lunch.” I said, it had been a while since I last cooked something at home since Jin did most of it now, so I was more than happy to bake something for everyone. “A cake to celebrate.”

After that I decided to take a quick shower and do my hair while the others finished lunch. My bathroom always looked like a cyclone had gone through it after I got clean and did my hair, so I took a few minutes to tidy it up. I dressed myself in a pair of long leggings and a random shirt I had tucked away in my drawer. I slid on some slippers before making my way downstairs.

I walked into the kitchen and spotted Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook standing around. I smiled at them as I began getting the ingredients and supplies out and turning on the oven. Namjoon suggested that he help decorate the cake rather than cook it since he didn't want to mess it up. I grinned at him, completely understanding what he meant, and how could you possibly mess up decorating a cake anyways?

I watched and Jungkook was cracking the eggs while Taehyung reread the instructions I had scribbled down. The first egg went in without a problem, Jungkook turned to face me, looking away from the bowl as he went to crack the second egg. We both turned to look at Taehyung as we heard his shriek of disgust, I peered over and looked into the bowl, I covered my mouth as I saw what had happened.

“You cracked the egg on my hand!” He exclaimed while still holding his hand over the bowl and giving Jungkook a bewildered look, his hand was dripping with the gooey, clear raw egg.

“Why was your hand in the bowl?” Kook asked nonchalantly.

“I was getting the shell out since you got some in the cake.”

“Well, that was silly.” Jungkook sassed back to Taehyung, me and Namjoon were both quietly laughing at the harmless squabble between the 2. “Do you even know how to bake?”

Taehyung let out an exaggerated gasp as he pulled his hand up to his chest and acted offended. “You…” He started slowly sneering. “You disrespect me, you disrespect my family, you disrespect my cow… how could you?”

“Why I outta-” Jungkook began winding his arm up in circles like a cartoon.

“Alright, that's enough Disney movies for you too.” I announced as I pushed my way between them, I looked down at the bowl and softly picked out the piece of shell, popped it in the bin, and started mixing the cake batter. I saw from the corner of the eyes the men give each other a faux glare before moving and washing up, I looked up and Namjoon who sat across me, he sighed before shaking his head and placing it into his palm, but I could see the corner of his mouth curve into a smile.

Thankfully, the rest of the baking process went well, the cake was in the oven, and it had just a few minutes left before it would be done, and we had gone to the lounge room and joined Hoseok, Yoongi and Jimin on the couch. I walked over and found my place between Yoongi and Jimin. I rested my head on Yoongi's lap and my legs over Jimin’s. I looked over to Hobi, who seemed engrossed in the nature documentary they were playing, giving the T.V his complete attention. I don't know if he even noticed us joining him.

I relaxed into the soft atmosphere as I felt Yoongi rest his hand and my hair and slowly pulled his fingers through it while Jimin rested his hand over my thigh, rubbing small meaningless patterns with his thumb, Taehyung sat down on the beanbag in the middle of the room facing the tv.

I watch as a tiny baby frog crawled its way out of a small pond filled with various plants and lilies on the tv, it hoped around a few times as the camera shots changed angels, the iconic sound of David Attenborough’s voice filled my ears, I used to love watching his documentaries when I was younger, late at night with a tub of ice cream curled up on my couch, by myself or with Ms. Chiyo.

I blinked a few times before looking around in confusion as the screen had just completely turned black and shut down, Hobi sat up slowly before quickly looking around and patting the couch around him trying to find the remote. I watched curiously as something caught my eye, 2 brown bunny ears perked up from behind the couch and were slowly moving away from where Hoseok sat.

“Jungkook?” I was confused. Everyone turned to where I had loosely pointed, and the situation became pretty clear. Hobi relaxed before sticking his hand over the other side of the couch and waiting patiently.

“Give. Me. The. Remote.” He demanded calmly, within seconds the remote had popped up along with a hand that placed it into Hobi’s. I watched as the ears shrank down until I could no longer see them. I turned back towards the TV as Hobi started up the TV again and the documentary came back on, but now it was focused on a mother fox and her young cubs in a snowy forest.

It felt like no time had passed and it was time to decorate the cake that we had been cooking, I did a base coat before we made coloured icing and put it in piping bags, Namjoon had a light blue, Jungkook had purple, and Taehyung had a leafy green colour. The plan was to pipe some flowers and leaves over the cake. I was equipped with a knife and white frosting to help with damage control.

I taught Namjoon and Jungkook how to pipe some basic flowers on the cake, and most of them came out okay with a very lopsided one, but that's okay. I showed Taehyung how to make leaves and small decorations and he was doing alright at it, I did happen to notice the significantly less amount of frost he had now than when I gave the bag to him, but I didn't have time to focus on it as Namjoon starting panic over a flower that had ‘jumped of the side’ of the cake.

The cake was looking good, and I was able to cover up a few small mistakes, and although it wasn't perfect I didn't mind because it was worth every second to see the proud looks that they each had as the looked at their handy work, and Namjoon’s face when he was concentrating warmed my heart. That was until something fell onto the cake, right in the centre of it, I didn't have time to cover my face and I felt icing splatter onto it.

I blinked a few times as I tried to not get icing in my eyes, I looked down at the cake, the entire top of the cake and being covered in green icing, I reached out towards the cake and another splat of green frosting landed on my hand. Slowly, I looked up towards the roof, stuck onto the roof was a glob of green frosting, a few more small pieces of frosting fell down and I stepped back.

I turned to face Taehyung, the clear culprit, as he was the one with the green frosting bag. He hesitantly looked down and towards me, giving me a boxy smile as he slightly shrugged his shoulders.

“How did you even get frosting on the ceiling?” I asked, only half expecting an answer from the guilty hybrid. He just looked back at the cake then glanced up at the others, Namjoon seemed to be in shock as he looked down at his once beautiful flower. Jungkook glared right at Taehyung, within seconds he dropped his piping bag and ran around the counter to catch him.

Those two started chasing each other around and eventually outside, I couldn't hold in my laughter as I giggled at what had happened before reaching out to Namjoon, wrapping my smaller hands around his big ones, and reassuring him that we could still fix it, he was eager to fix the cake and so while the younger 2 were chasing each other, me and Namjoon started fixing the cake.

It was later that night after dinner when we all sat down to eat the cake for dessert, me and Namjoon were able to fix it by taking some of the excess icing off and piping more flowers onto. The cake was great, and everyone was enjoying it, except for Taehyung, who was cleaning up the roof in the kitchen, along with Jungkook’s help, but eventually they did come and join us and got their own slice.

I will admit that watching a giant panther chase after a small bunny and then the bunny jumping on its back, was one of my favourite things that had happened today. I made my way to my bedroom and opted to take another shower to make sure I had washed off all of the icing. I felt my body relax as the warm water ran through my hair and onto my scalp, my showers had become hotter recently since I wanted to stay warmer for longer after leaving the steamy bathroom.

I hummed a small tune to myself as I brushed my teeth and applied my face cream, making sure I had done everything and looked like a glazed donut. My room was lowly illuminated by fairy lights and small lamps. It was a little chilly but having my window closed definitely helped. I finished doing my hair as I sat down on my bed and put my phone on my table.

I snuggled deeper into my bed, various pillows and blankets surrounding me, becoming messy and disorganised as I tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. I finally found the perfect position, I pulled the blankets up higher to my face and closed my eyes as I let sleep find me.

Turns out sleep has no sense of direction and got lost.

I groaned as I threw the covers over me and started senselessly kicking to get them off me. My annoyance made my skin feel weird and I couldn't stand the feeling of the blankets at that moment. I rubbed my eyes and crawled off my bed, dragged my feet to my door before deciding to head to the kitchen. I did my best to tiptoe around and not make any noise to hopefully not disturb the others.

I flicked on a small lamp in the kitchen which slightly illuminated the area, I opened the fridge and just stared at the contents of it. I wasn't even really hungry, I was just bored and frustrated. I sighed before closing the fridge again and turning around to place my elbows on the counter and leaning on it.

I froze in my spot as from the corner of my eyes I saw 2 piercing spots, I turned and realised that they were in fact eyes. I turned on another light that would allow me to see who it was, as the room exploded into a warm light, I saw who the eyes belonged to. I watched as the giant wolf yawned, his jaw opening wide and his tongue flicking out, I smiled at him as I made my way over to the couch.

I instinctively pushed my hand out to pet him and his head as I stood in front of him. “Couldn't sleep either, hey?” I asked with my voice sounding slightly croaky. Namjoon let out an agreeable whine as he chased around my hand that danced in front of him. I decided to sit down with him and immediately the hybrid wolf plopped down on top of me, his paws pushed in front of him as he rested his upper half on my thighs.

My hands quickly disappeared into the long fur on his back as I drew little patterns with my fingers while we both sat in a comfortable silence. “I’m still not used to this new house.” I chuckled. “That’s probably why I can't sleep. I lived in my apartment for a few years so it’s different having such a large house. It must be hard for you guys too.”

Namjoon let out a confused wolfy grunt before he lifted his head up and looked at me, his big eyes felt like they were piercing through me, I smiled at him with my eyes closed as I ruffled my hand over his head before lightly scratching behind his wolf ears.

He stood on all fours next to me and I looked at him confused. He started nudging me with his nose, I laughed at first until I realised he was trying to tell me something. Eventually I got the hint and I laid down on the couch, Namjoon easing coiled up beside me and rested his head in the dip of my waist. I giggled lightly and put my hand back on his head, slowly tracing patterns as we laid down.

I couldn't explain how or why Namjoon’s familiar scent of Lavender and Pine was still so strong in his wolf form, or why it made me feel calm and relaxed, but I honestly didn't care because I was beginning to get tired, and the sleep began swirling around in my mind like dark grey clouds in a storm. I managed to mumble a quiet ‘goodnight’ before I was devoured by the storm in my head.

A/n: Chapter 18!! It's crazy to think that I've already written 18 chapter of the fic (omg) but that means that we are getting closer to the end!! 12 chapters left after this one, I might be open to doing one-shots/scenarios set within this fic after i finish it, but only if you guys ask for them. This chapter is slightly more focus on the maknae's, but the next one will focus more on the hyung's. Anyways, I'm not sure what else to write... remember to check out my WIP post if your interested in anything that I've been working on! and apart from that... I hope everyone has a great day or night, or wherever you are reading from, Thank you all so much for reading! 💜💜💜

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lovingmattysposts · 5 months

Text

Eastside 13

P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P14 P15 P16 P17

summary: growing up in the outskirts of Boston wasn't really pretty. Life wasn't that great for most people, most people. You had Matt and no one fucked with you when Matt was standing by your side. The chief's daughter and the bad boy deliquent. A perfect love story?

warnings: mentions of drugs and guns

DAMN yall missed this series here ya go

xoxo autumn

"It's around here somewhere" I mumbled as I pushed around my father’s desk. Cecilia stood behind me, clearly on edge going through a police officer’s living space. I looked back at her as she hugged herself tight with her arms and glanced around.

"Will you chill out?" I chuckled looking at her. She glanced down at me dropping her arms. "Chill out? I could face life if your dad knew I was in here" She whispered down at me. I shook my head as I looked at her, smiling. She sighed and leaned against the wall.

"Here it is" I whispered lifting up a small piece of paper that was taped to the top of the desk drawer of all of his passwords. I held it up showing it to her. She smiled and shook her head. "You think chief of police would be smarter than that" She whispered smiling. I laughed and shook my head.

"Now the computer" I mumbled shuffling around some paper. Her eyes were trained on the door, tapping her foot. I groaned as I searched for it. Then I heard the door being pushed open, making me stand up straight. I looked up seeing my dad staring back at me and then glancing at Cecilia.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked looking at me. I glanced down to his hands, his computer in his hands. Fuck. I looked back up at him. I looked over at Cecilia who's face was white looking at my dad.

"Uh-" I said glancing down to the desk. "I was looking for the computer charger--We were gonna watch a movie, but my laptop’s dead and I lost the charger" I said nodding looking at him, lying through my teeth. He furrowed his eyesbrows as he stepped towards the desk and picked up the computer charger up and held it out to me.

I looked down at his hands. "Oh! Duh" I chuckled awkwardly looking at Cecilia, who's eyes were still wide. I took the computer charger out of his hands and stepped out from behind his desk.

"Dad, this is my friend Cecilia" I smiled motioning to Cecilia. He glanced over to her and then down to her tattoos, then back up to her eyes. "Hi" She waved. My dad looked back at me and nodded.

"A friend?" He smiled. I swallowed and nodded. "Well, it's nice to meet a friend of y/n's" He smiled waving at her. She nodded. He walked over to me rubbing his hand over my shoulder.

"I'm glad to see you out of your bed honey, I know these last few days have been hard for you" He said looking down at me. I felt the feelings wash back all over me from his words. As if the reality of Matt and I's breakup hit me all over again. I had forgotten about it for a few hours, and now it was right back in front of my face again.

I forced and smiled and nodded at him. "Yeah, thanks Dad" I whispered. He smiled. I took in a breath and looked back at Cecilia, who was obviously itching to get out of there. I nodded to her and then walked past her towards the door, her quickly behind me.

She closed the door behind her before letting out a breath. "Oh my god" She shook her head. I shook my head smiling slightly before walking towards my steps and up to my room.

I pushed my room open before looking back at her. "Sorry, it's a mess" I said kicking my clothes that were scattered across the floor. She glanced around my room, looking at something on my desk. I just watched her as she looked around my room.

"Your room is so cool" She smiled looking around. I smiled at her. "And so big" She said holding out her arms and spinning, making me laugh slightly.

“I share a room with Landon. It must be nice having all this all to yourself” She smiled as she walked around. I nodded looking at her. She walked over to the widow before looking out of it. Memories of Matt’s face flushed through my mind.

I looked down. It wasn’t fair. I can’t even look at y window anymore?

"It normally doesn't look like this, i've just been living in here for the past week" I said grabbing some stuff off my desk and pushing them away.

"Is this sweatshirt yours? It dope as shit" She smiled holding up a black sweatshirt. I glanced over at it and paused. I looked down. "Uh no that's Matt's" I said quietly. She looked over at me and then back at the sweatshirt before placing it back where it was.

I swallowed as I pretended to put more stuff away to ignore the burning in the corner of my eyes and I heard her walk over to me. "I know I've spent the entire night talking about myself" She said and I didn't look up at her.

"But" She paused. I swallowed. "How are you doing? With the breakup and everything?" She asked softly. I let out a breath and closed my eyes. I don’t wanna talk about it. I didn’t even want to think about it.

"We need to figure out a way to make sure the triplets aren't involved when we blow this thing up, make sure there's nothing in their house when everything goes down" I stated looking at her. She just looked at me. I stared back at her. "What?" I asked.

"Y/n" She said softly. I looked to the side and sighed. "I don't wanna talk about it" I mumbled. She nodded. "Okay, we don't have to" She said. Silence fell between us as I attempted not to cry in front of her.

"I could text Landon" She said looking down at me. "Tell him I want some of Matt's weed and to call him." She suggested, making me look up at her. "It would get him out of the house so you could go talk to Nick and Chris about what your plan is" She said shrugging. I licked my lips.

I nodded slowly looking at her. "That would work" I sighed. She smiled and nodded before pulling out her phone. "I'll call him" She smiled.

Cecilia and I stood outside of the triplet’s house, from a distance waiting for Matt to walk out. Low and behold a few seconds later the door pushed open revealing Matt. I felt like I froze. Just watching him as he stared down at his feet. My boyfriend. My perfect boy. That wasn't mine anymore.

It felt like all the blood was draining from my body because I knew he wasn't mine anymore. He was just a boy, walking down the street. Holding every memory I had, he took with him. He looked perfect. Sure his hair was messy, his face was fallen, not a smile in sight, but he was still perfect to me, because he was Matt.

I guess I didn't notice he was walking towards where Cecilia and I were standing in the distance, because I was so caught up in seeing him again. Seeing him when we were official not together. And It killed me.

Cecilia jumped down into the bushes behind us farther away from the road, but I stood frozen, just looking at him. Feeling like I wasn't even there, like I was a ghost in his presence just watching his life go on, without me in it. And I hated it. But that wasn't the case. I was very much standing there, not a ghost, and his eyes were trained at his feet as he walked.

"Y/n!" Cecilia whispered loudly, but I didn't move. I felt like I couldn't even feel my feet. But he was approching me, but he hadn't noticed me yet. It didn't look like he was noticing anything around him.

Cecilia reached up and grabbed me before pulling me down on my butt under the bushes with her. I snapped out of it before looking over at her, her eyes wide. "What were you doing?" She whispered. I opened my mouth but just shook my head, like I didn't know what I was doing.

Her eyes snapped up as Matt passed where we were hiding. I just looked at him. I could see him through the branches and I shifted slightly making a branch snap. I almost gasped when I saw him stop, but Cecilia's hand came over my mouth. He turned slightly towards the bushes from the noise and glanced over them.

I felt my heart beat out of my chest. I wanted to scream.

Matt I'm so sorry. Please let it not be true. Please can we just pretend nothing ever happenened?

He shook his head before continuing down the road. I closed my eyes as his footstep became more and more faint after a few minutes of sitting here. Cecilia stood up and I stood up with her. She stepped out before glancing from side to side and then back to me.

"Okay, he's gone" She stated looking at me. I let out a breath and nodded, stepping out from the bushes. She just looked at me for a second. "Are you okay?" She breathed. I looked down at my feet and nodded.

"I'm okay" I said. "I'm not doing this for him, I'm doing this for you--" I said looking at her. "For Chris for Nick-" I said motioning to the house. She pursed her lips before shaking her head.

"No you're not" She said stepping towards me. I just watched her. "I appreciate your help, trust me you're saving my life" She breathed smiling. "But you're not doing this for me or Nick or Chris" She shook her head. I didn't say anything and looked at her. Not really knowing what to say.

"I'm gonna go meet Landon at the warehouse" She said stepping back. "You have this covered?" She asked pointing at me. I looked up at the house and then back at her before nodding. "I've got it" I nodded. She smiled before walking up to me and wrapping her arms around me, catching me off guard so I froze slightly.

"Thank you so much for everything, you have no idea what you're doing for me" She said quietly as she hugged me. I smiled slightly before hugging her back. She stepped back before letting out a breath.

"Okay, you've got this" She smiled looking at me. I nodded as she turned and started to walk down the street. I just watched her as she turned down the corner and I looked back towards the house and let out a breath.

I don't know how I was going to get Nick and Chris on board with this without Matt's knowledge, but I had to try. I sighed before walking up to the all too familiar house that I've been to too many times before.

Normally having a mission to open the door, kiss my boyfriend and lay in his bed and listen to him tell me how much he loved me until the sun set. Oh how things have changed.

I walked up the steps before knocking on the door and holding my breath. I stepped back and a few seconds later the door opened, revealing Nick. His eyes widened once they landed on me.

"Y/n" He stated. I just looked up at him. "Matt just-" He started to say as he leaned forward looking down the street. "I'm not here for Matt" I stated as I pushed past him into his house. I looked over and saw Chris look up at me from the couch.

My mouth slightly dropped at the sight of him. He was black and blue. "Chris" I breathed looking at him. He glared at me and stood up. "What are you doing here?" he asked harshly. I looked over at Nick who wore the same expression.

I swallowed and sighed. "I'm here to get you out of the shit you've drowned yourself in" I said looking between them and crossing my arms. They looked at each other and then back at me. "What are you talking about?" Nick asked stepping towards me. I rolled my eyes.

"I know okay? You're drug dealers because you're fucking idiots!" I glared at them. They stood frozen as they looked at me. Nick clenched his jaw and looked over to Chris. "I'm gonna kill Matt" He shook his head looking at Chris.

"Matt didn't tell me" I sighed looking at them. Chris furrowed his eyebrows. "Then who-" He started to ask but I shook my head waving my hands. "It doesn't matter and we don't have time for this" I breathed walking around them and to the couch and pulling up th cushions.

"W-What are you doing?" Chris asked looking at me. I glanced up at them. "You have to get everything out of the house that ties your name with any drug paraphernalia or to Slim's buisness" I stated looking between them. They stared blankly at me.

"The money you get for selling, clean it. Make it go through some other system that doesn't have Slim's name attached to it and don't just deposit thousands of dollars into your account. Send it to yourself through fake accounts or through a different bank with someone else's name on it--Whatever you have to do, just clean it" I said looking between them.

"Any drugs, get rid of them I don't know or care how you do it--I don't care if it's thousands of dollars worth of fucking cocaine, It needs to be gone by this time tomorrow" I stated seriously looking at them. They glanced at each other and then back to me.

"You wanna get out of this without a life sentence in jail don't you?" I asked loudly looking at them. They nodded quickly. I stared at them as they stood there looking at me.

"Then move" I said through gritted teeth. They both turned on their feet and walked out of the room. I just shook my head as Chris ran into his room and Nick be-lined towards the kitchen.

A few minutes later, everything was spread out on the table in front of me, including guns with no permit. I looked up at them before shaking my head.

"I'm getting my dad's computer, we're hacking into Slim's laptop, taking down everything that has your name or face attached to him and getting rid of it, taking down all of the security footage, destroying all of it and leaving everything that incriminates your guy's involvement" I breathed looking between them. Nick nodded looking at me, and Chris stepped forwards before wrapping his arms around me.

I froze against his touch as he squeezed me. "Thank you" he sighed against me. I looked over at Nick, who shook his head--Obviously the least emotional one out of all of them. Chris pulled back slightly smiling at me. I nodded looking at him

"What about Matt?" Chris asked looking up at me. I swallowed as I glanced between them. "Don't tell Matt" I stated looking at them. They looked over at each other. "About any of it?" Chris asked looking at me. I shook my head.

"I don't want him to be involved. If he knows I'm doing this he'll try and stop me, I just know he will. It's better if he just doesn't know. I can do this on my own the last thing I need is Matt to know i'm going knee deep into Slim's shit" I said shaking my head. They nodded.

"Okay, we won't tell him" Nick said looking over at Chris, who nodded. I let out a breath. "He's destroyed you know" Chris said quietly making me look up at him.

"He's not even himself. It's like he doesn't know who he is without you" Chris breathed. I took in a breath looking down at the table. "Get rid of this by tomorrow" I stated pointing down at the table and moving past them, they just watched me as I walked towards the door.

"If you need more time, text me. But for tomorrow make sure you two are no where near the warehouse" I said pointing at them. They nodded. "Where are you gonna be?" Nick asked looking at me.

"Blowing that shit up" I chuckled, making them smile. “Damn Y/n, you’re kinda badass” Chris chuckled. “I see why Matt loves you so much” he breathed. I felt a punch to the gut with the words.

“Not looking like the soft little chief’s daughter anymore huh?” I smiled making them smile and shake their head. “Be safe y/n, if you need any help. Text us. Slim can be dangerous” Nick said looking at me. I nodded looking at him.

“Don’t worry I’ve got some help from the inside” I smiled. They furrowed their eyebrows. I took a breath turning towards the door, then I paused.

"Make sure Matt's safe too. I don’t want him near the warehouse either” I said looking over at them. Nick nodded. "Of course" He breathed looking at me. I sighed as I pushed through the front door and back down the steps.

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#sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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crazyunsexycool · 3 months

Text

Heart’s Munition

Chapter 7

Pairing: Mob boss!Steve Rogers x Maid!reader

Word count: 6.3k

Warning: mention of blood/blood splatter, gun use, gunshot, knife use, non-con touching (not Steve), SA, attempted rape, bruises, beating, angst, protective Steve

A/N: I really liked writing this chapter. Here we have a situation in which reader knows that Steve is in the mob but has never been in direct contact with any type of violence or anything until she is… We also find out who the woman that broke Steve's heart is (Are we surprised who it is?) We'll find out why later on so here we go....

Series Masterlist

“One more piece of tape.” You said as you held your hand out.

“Here you go.”

You place the tape on the last corner and then smooth it out to make sure it stays in place.

“Mom are you done?” Eli pops his head into the room you’re in. “They’re downstairs.”

“Yes, come on.”

You and Eli were two balls of energy. Everything was in place and Regina was more than supportive in your excitement. For the last two days you had been working on getting a room ready for Peter. He was finally being released from the hospital and considering how things were going Steve thought it would be better if Peter stayed for a while.

There’s voices coming from the hallway so you and Eli stand together and wait for the door to open. Steve smiles as he opens the door and steps inside. Peter is right behind him.

“Welcome home.” You and Eli yell at the same time. Peter, still being medicated, is startled before he starts laughing.

“Thanks guys. Did you help decorate?” He asks Eli who walked up to Peter and hugged him gently.

“Yeah. Do you wanna watch a movie?”

“That sounds like a great idea bud.”

“Eli, let Peter get settled first. Why don’t you go help Dom make some snacks for the two of you?”

“Ok ma. I’ll be right back.” Eli says before he’s running out the door.

“It’s good to see you’re back.” You said as you gave Peter a hug of your own.

“Glad to be back too.”

You smile as you help him get comfortable in bed. Regina helps by getting his bags from Sam and sorting out the items.

“Who’s she?” Peter nods in her direction.

“This is Regina, the newest member of our staff.”

Peter gives her an awkward smile and his eyes dart to Steve. He thought he’d find the boss checking her out but his eyes were only on you. Peter knew from the first moment Steve liked you but he was stubborn. He wouldn’t let emotions cloud his judgment. Steve had warned him to keep a level head and to keep feelings out of the business. But seeing him now it would seem as if his boss was going against his own advice.

“Nice to meet you. Let me know if you need anything.” Regina offers. “I’m going to get back to work.”

“Thanks.” Steve says as he moves so that she can reach the door.

You stay for a few more minutes catching up with Peter before you excuse yourself too. Bucky and Sam walk out with you.

“We’ll let you get settled but we do have to talk about what happened at some point.” Steve says.

“Of course boss.” Peter nods. “I’m glad you brought them here. Y/N and Eli I mean. It was just the two of them and with Eli as sick as he is Y/N needs all the support she can get.”

“And she has it now. Why didn’t you tell me about her and her son?”

Peter looks down at his hands.

“You’re not in trouble.”

“She asked me not to. Simple as that. Eli is her priority and I respected that.”

“You’re loyal, I like that about you kid.” Steve says. “You’re not keeping any other secrets from me are you?”

“No sir. Eli is the only thing I’ve ever kept a secret.”

“Good. Now get some rest.”

Steve flexed his hand, assessing the damage on his knuckles from the interrogation he’d been a part of. He hissed when the cold alcohol swab touched the open skin on his other hand.

“Don’t be a baby.” You murmur as you throw away the used alcohol pad.

You turn away from Steve to grab some ointment and when you turn back he’s lighting a cigarette.

“Hey.” Steve protests when you snatch the unlit cigarette from his mouth. “What the hell, I need a smoke. I'm stressed.”

“No smoking in the house.”

“It’s my house.” Steve argues back.

“Elijah can’t inhale smoke so either quit or go outside to the other end of the yard where he doesn’t play.”

“So now I can’t do whatever I want in my own house?” Steve glares at you but you aren’t intimidated by it.

You roll your eyes before taking his hand again and finish cleaning it up before moving around to the next one.

“I didn’t ask you to move in. You brought me here and told me this place was safe for me and my kid. Now if you go and trigger an asthma attack it won't be good for him.”

Steve huffs but agrees. He sits silently for a moment as he watches you.

“You know maybe I should get you a sexy nurse uniform.”

“And who would I wear it for?”

“Your only patient.” Steve says, matter of fact. “Do you think I’d let anyone else see you dressed in something like that?”

“I don’t know, I thought it was my choice who I let see me with or without clothes on.” You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, a smirk playing on your lips when Steve’s jaw clenched. “What? Does it bother you that I could go out there and find someone and let him take me home?”

Steve stands abruptly and spins you so that you’re chest to chest with him. His hands lay flat against the flat surface of the desk behind you, his eyes darkening at just the thought of someone else putting their hands on you. Your breath hitches at the intensity in his gaze.

“Do you really think I would let that happen? Let some asshole touch you.”

“It’s not up to you, Steve. I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want. Why do you care anyway? Are you still just trying to get me in your bed? Is this why you’ve been so helpful, you think that helping me with Eli will get me to sleep with you? I won’t risk it. My job is much more important than a one night stand with you. Besides I thought we were past this you sleeping with your maids thing.”

Steve groans in frustration, his head falling to your shoulder. You smile and play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“No. I’m helping you with Eli because I genuinely care.” He pulls back to look at you, his gaze much softer now. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough before but I will be now. I want you. Not just for one night.”

“Well two nights isn’t going to cut it either.”

“You’re being a brat, you know that? I'm going to win you over.”

You laugh and get closer to his face, his eyes immediately going to your lips.

“Well I’m not going to make it easy for you.” You murmur and kiss the tip of his nose just as the door opens.

Bucky walks in, his steps falter as he watches the two of you separate yourself from one another.

“Hey Buck, right on time I was just finishing up here.” You say as if he didn’t walk in on the two of you in a compromising position.

“Uh-ok cool.”

You pick up the first aid kit and place it back in its spot within Steve’s office. As you head for the door you stop and turn to look at both men.

“How much longer is that mess going to be downstairs?” You asked about the nameless idiot that shot Peter.

“It will be cleaned up soon.”

“Ok, just let me know if you need me to take Eli out for the day. I don’t want him to see any of that.”

“Of course.” Steve smiled and you walked out.

“What was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve waves his hand dismissively.

“Ok? Anyways, Beck still won’t talk. We’ve tried everything.”

Steve sighed as he ran a hand over his beard. “We’re going to have to call either Lloyd or Loki in. But we’ll move Beck first. I don’t want that done here.”

“I’ll figure out where to move him to.”

“Thanks, I’ll make the call.” Steve leans forward and grabs the phone while Bucky heads back out.

You heard Steve’s voice before you walked into Elijah’s room. Almost as soon as you had moved in, Eli requested that Steve read with him at night before bed. You told your son you weren’t sure that was possible but in the short time you’ve been there Steve hasn’t missed a night. Although reading didn’t take long, all of the medication Eli was on made him sleepy. It didn’t stop him from fighting it and trying to stay awake for just a few more minutes. You lean against the doorframe and watch Steve tuck Eli in and turn off the lamp next to his bed.

“Hey.” Steve says as he walks out of the bedroom.

“He didn’t put up much of a fight did he?”

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “I think all of the excitement of having Peter here wore him out.”

You smile while looking back into the darkened bedroom. “I’m not surprised. He loved when Pete would come over and play video games.”

Steve’s eyes were still on you when you looked back up at him. There was an intense feeling of need between the two of you as you stood in the quiet dimly lit hallway. One that pulled you closer to each other. He cleared his throat and you looked away.

“I have some business to attend to at one of my clubs. Will you be alright here alone?”

“Yeah. Peter is sleeping too and I think Dom had a poker game. I’m just gonna enjoy a nice bubble bath before bed.”

Steve groans and closes his eyes. You bite back a laugh.

“Do you need a hand with this bubble bath?”

You smile and shake your head before starting to walk backwards toward your own room. “I’m good, thanks. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Tease.” Steve mutters as he watches you walk into your room.

****

Steve shook hands with his newest associate, Erik Killmonger. They had worked together before but this was going to be on a more permanent and lucrative basis. The two men were in the vip section with a drink in hand celebrating their new business deal.

They looked down at the sea of people dancing and drinking as they talked about logistics and expectations.

“Good evening gentlemen.” A sickly sweet voice called out from behind them.

It was a voice Steve recognized and immediately tensed because of it. He turned slowly, anger already rising within him. A glare was sent in the direction of the uninvited guest but she was unphased.

“What are you doing here, Sharon?” Steve demanded to know.

“I just came by to say hello, see how my old friend was doing.”

“You shouldn’t be here. Not my club and not in New York.”

She rolled her eyes and sat at one of the plush couches, motioning for a waitress to get her a drink. “I heard you were doing business and I have a proposition for you.”

Erik looked between the two and excused himself after mentioning something about someone catching his eye. It left Steve alone with Sharon although Bucky quickly and quietly joined them.

“So what do you say, Rogers? Want to make a deal?” Sharon asked as she batted her lashes at Steve.

“No. You shouldn’t even be in New York but I’ll be a gentleman and give you twelve hours to leave.” Steve nods at Bucky who moves and grabs Sharon by the arm.

“You can’t be serious? Is this because of Peggy?”

Steve tensed at the mention of her name. It brought back bitter and hurtful memories. He kept his expression unreadable though and looked back at the blonde.

“I’m a man of my word. I said I’d never work with The Carter Family again and I intend to keep it. I also told you that you have twelve hours to leave.”

Sharon pulls her arm away from Bucky’s hold. “It’s a shame you’re letting your emotions get in the way of a very lucrative deal.”

“Sharon-” Steve raised his hand to stop her from talking when she opened her mouth.

“Steve.”

“What Buck?” He looked over a Bucky, annoyed that he was being interrupted.

“We have to go. Check your phone.”

Steve pulls out his phone to find a few missed calls and texts from your phone.

Y/N: Steve mom needs help.

Y/N: Come home now!

Y/N: Please!!

Y/N: Answer your phone.

Steve immediately called you back but you didn’t answer. The urgency came from the first message that was obviously from Eli. He wasn’t sure how he missed yours and Peter’s calls but he left Sharon forgotten in his VIP section and headed back home with Sam and Bucky.

Eli and Peter were sleeping. Dom had gone to a weekly poker game with his friends. The house was quiet and you have wanted to take advantage of the bathtub in your room for a while. So that’s what you did. You lit some candles and added epsom salts and oils into the water. It was perfect. With some music playing softly in the background the only thing missing was a glass of wine. You grabbed your robe and headed downstairs with the intention of pouring yourself some.

It was while passing Elijah’s room that something felt off. While you left the door ajar it was opened a little too wide. Then there was a smell of cigarette smoke that bothered you. Especially after asking Steve not to smoke around him. You knew that request bothered him but he wouldn’t go do anything to harm Eli either. So you crept up to the door and peered inside just to make sure Eli was still asleep. You could see him on the bed sleeping soundly but the cigarette smoke clung in the air heavily. Since the room was dark other than the sliver of light that illuminated the bed you struggled to make anything else out.

You hear it before you see it. The deep inhale in the corner of the room. Then the lit cigarette. The person smoking takes a step out of his hiding place and you can barely make out his short slicked back hair and large frame. Your breathing stops as you stare at this stranger in your son’s room.

“Well what do we have here?” It’s almost a whisper but it sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

“Get out of this room right now.”

The stranger walked closer to you. He was tall and obviously strong. You were sure he would overpower you but he was a threat to your son. You’d do anything to protect him. With every step he took you took one back in the hopes of leading him out into the hallway.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing? Rogers must be treating you well if you walk around like that.” He motioned toward your robe which had loosened and revealed your bra. He licked his lips as he eyed you. “The kid might be a bit of a mood killer though.”

You wrapped the robe around yourself tightly and headed towards the stairs. He stalked towards you with a predatory gaze in his eyes. Before you could get to the top of the stairs he grabs the back of your neck, pressing his body against your. One hand wraps around your throat and the other starts roaming your body.

“That’s no way to treat a guest, Honey.” He whispered in your ear before sniffing your hair.

“Let me go.”

“Show me a good time and maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll keep you.”

He started dragging back into the hallway and opened the first door he found.

“No. Please don’t.” You tried to push against him in hopes of avoiding being thrown into the bed. But he was taller and obviously stronger than you.

“You should cooperate sweetheart. Maybe I’ll go easy on ya.”

You're thrown onto the bed. The robe you were wearing is now open, exposing your bra and revealing the shorts you were wearing. You cry and beg as your attacker moves to crawl over you, his lips find their way to your neck as he holds your hands above your head with one hand. His grip is hard and painful. The other he uses to keep your face still as he kisses you. He pulls back and smirks down at you.

“Look at you, you’re so pretty when you cry.” He laughs as he moves around in order to undress you. In a moment of desperation you kick your feet up and manage to kick him in his groin. “You fucking cunt.” In his moment of weakness you kick higher this time and your foot connects with his face. He grabs his nose and starts cursing at you but you’re moving away from him.

You ran faster this time in hopes of getting down the stairs. As long as he was away from Eli you didn’t care what happened to you.

“Dumb whore. I was going to be good to you but now you’re fucked. When I’m done with you, you’ll never see the kid again.” He yelled as he followed you down the stairs. “Stop running or I’ll go back up there and shoot the kid.”

Turning to look over your shoulder slowly you saw the gun aimed at you.

“I really only came here for one thing. You see your little fuck buddy, Rogers, he has an associate of mine.” He says while taking a few steps down towards you.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Elijah creep out of his room. He stood there unmoving as he watched a stranger pull a gun out on his mom. You prayed he would go hide again and were relieved when he moved away from the railing.

On the landing that led to the second floor you stood looking up at the intruder. He takes slow deliberate steps just to show you that he was in control. Your tear stained cheeks do nothing to deter his attack.

“If you tell me where he is,” he pulls his phone out and shows you a picture. “I won’t have the kid watch what I do to you. I won’t sell him off to the highest bidder either.”

A door opens up at the end of the hall. He stops on the last step so that he’s hidden from whoever is there.

“Y/N?” Peter’s sleepy voice breaks the tense silence. “Y/N, I need some help.”

The stranger takes a peek around the corner and sees Peter making his way down slowly. You take his distraction and charge at him full force hoping to at least knock him down and get the gun away from him. Barreling into him, shoulder first, he falls back. It wasn’t so much your strength but catching him off guard that helped you. He groaned as he grabbed his head, a small amount of blood started to trickle from the apparent gash at the back. While it looked like it hurt it didn’t completely knock your aggressor out.

“Peter, get back in your room. Call Steve or anyone tell them to get back now.” You yelled before running down the stairs with the gun in your hand.

Not even hitting his head against a few steps slows down your attacker. It forces you to head into the kitchen instead of outside. You turn on your heel and hold the gun up, pointing it at him.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot you.” You say.

“Really? I don’t think you’ve ever used a gun before.”

“First time for everything.” You reply. “On your knees.” The gun is still pointed at him but it shakes almost violently in your hands.

He smirks and takes another step closer. The gun goes off but it hits the floor. It makes your hands shake even more.

“Don’t. Move.” You say through gritted teeth.

There’s movement behind him and then Peter is telling you to move. The intruder turns around to face Peter knowing you won’t be able to shoot. He still gets shot once in the shoulder and in each kneecap forcing him to the ground. When you stand from behind the kitchen island you see Peter standing with a gun in his hand, suppressor attached.

“Are you ok?” He asks while keeping his gun aimed down at the intruder.

“I think so.” You say with a shaky voice while looking him over. “You’re bleeding.”

“I think I ripped my stitches.”

“I’ll get you cleaned up. Let me just-“ you look around unsure of what you can use to restrain him. “I’ll be right back.” You run down the steps to the basement on wobbly legs.

“We can use this.”

You say as you get to the top stair with some rope. Peter nods but grimaces at any slight movement.

“What do I do?” You look up at Peter.

“Y/N, Peter?”

“In the kitchen.” You yell out.

Coulson’s quick steps echo throughout the otherwise quiet home. He stares at the scene in front of him bewildered for just a moment.

“Give me the rope.” He says and moves into action.

You help Peter get to the couch. “I’m gonna get the first aid kit ok? I’ll be right back.”

“Hey,” he catches your hand. “Go check on Eli first, this can wait a few minutes.”

He saw the relief in your eyes and the way your tense shoulders slumped.

You run up the stairs and head directly to his room where you find the door locked.

“Elijah, baby it’s me.” You knock. “Baby please open the door. It’s ok.”

The door opens and Eli’s crying face comes into view.

“Mom.” He rushes to you, burying his face in your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“It’s ok, it’s safe now. Are you ok?”

You feel him nodding against you. The only thing you can do is hug him back and assure him that he’s ok. After a few minutes you pull away, kneeling to get a better look at him and make sure there are no marks on him.

“Why was that man here? Why did he want to hurt you?”

“I don’t know, baby.” You brush away his tears. “Let’s go sit.”

Eli takes your hand and walks back into his room. You aren’t sure if it’s him shaking or you but it’s almost uncontrollable.

“I tried to call and text Steve but he didn’t answer.” He holds out your phone.

“You did a good job, come here.”

You take your phone and call Steve immediately but there’s no answer. Then you call Sam and Bucky and still nothing. You send them all a few texts and you start to worry that they have been hurt. Dom answers right away and he tells you that he’ll be back in a few minutes. After that you sit against the headboard and bring Elijah to sit on your lap and you hold him tight like when he was a baby. The only thing you could do now was wait.

Steve flew through traffic in order to make it back as fast as he could. His mind raced as he tried and failed to get an answer from you. He came up with the worst case scenarios of what could be happening. All Steve hoped was that you and Eli were ok no matter what the issue was. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to either of you.

Sam and Bucky weren’t far behind when Steve finally pulled into the driveway of his mansion. Immediately he knew something was way off. The normal guards that were posted around the perimeter were missing. He grabbed his gun as he stepped out of his car. When he looked backed, Sam and Bucky also had their guns out.

Steve rushed to the door, opening it without warning. His gun was up as he walked in with Sam and Bucky behind him. They walk into the living room only to find Peter sitting back on the couch, his hand putting pressure on the area where he had been stitched up previously. Dom was fussing over him trying to help stop the bleeding.

“Peter? What happened?” Steve asked, getting the attention of the semiconscious young man.

“There’s this guy. He broke in.”

“I have him down in the room.” Coulson stepped out of the kitchen. “I got an alert from the security alarm. I got here just as Peter shot him. It seems he had his eyes set on Y/N.”

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs.” Peter answers. “With Eli.”

Steve looks back and Bucky lifts his chin up towards the stairs.

“We’ll go see who this idiot is.”

“Get Peter medical help and find out what happened to the guards.”

“Clint and Nat are on their way.” Coulson says. “I’ll have them take Peter in.”

Steve nods and heads upstairs. He takes two at a time until he reaches the third floor. His heart is beating out of his chest as he walks up to Eli’s room, worried about the state he would find you in. He knocks but doesn’t get an answer so he opens the door and takes a peek inside. The cigarette smoke still lingers but he doesn’t find either you or Eli. Steve walks out and heads to your room, knocking a bit more harshly than he intended too.

“Y/N? Can you open up?” Steve calls out. After a minute the door opens and your tear stained face peeks out.

“Steve.” You whimper when you finally see him.

“C’mere, baby.” Steve pulls you into his chest. He feels your whole body trembling and his arms tighten around you. “Are you ok? Is Elijah?”

You nod against his chest and begin to sob now that Steve was there.

“It’s over. You’re safe.” Steve murmured.

He kept as calm as he could but he felt nothing but rage. Not only did someone think they could just walk into his home without any repercussions, they also terrorized you. There would be hell to pay once he was downstairs to get the necessary information.

“Do either of you need to see a doctor?”

“No. We’re ok, just shaken up a bit.” You reply as you finally look up at him again.

“Alright. What about you? Are you sure you’re not hurt? Did he do anything to you?”

You avert your eyes and Steve’s stomach drops.

“What did he do? Did he touch you?” Steve’s voice hardened. There was this underlying and unsettling sharpness to it.

You nodded. Steve took a deep breath while he slowly pulled away and turned his back towards you. He ran a hand over his beard as he thought about all the ways he was going to rip the asshole that dared touch you apart.

Steve turned back to look at you. “Did he force hi-“

“Tried to. I got away from him before he could.”

“Ok.” Steve takes a deep breath. “C’mon let’s get you back to bed. You need to rest.”

Once Steve realizes that you’re asleep he leaves the room quietly. He walks down to the first floor to find out what the hell is going on in his own home. There will be hell to pay for this, not just for the disrespect of breaking into his house but for what you went through.

“Update, now.” He demands.

“The idiot that broke in is none other than Jack Rollins. Apparently he was looking for Beck when he stumbled upon Eli’s room.” Bucky says. “He’s a sick twisted bastard from what Peter told me he heard.”

“Did he say anything else?”

Bucky shakes his head. Steve starts rolling up his sleeves. He heads for the basement door with Bucky on his heels.

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you think?” He growls but continues toward the basement door.

“Steve, think about this.” Bucky says. “We could get information out of him if we do this right.”

Steve stops and turns to look at Bucky and the rest of his team.

“He put his hands on Y/N. I don’t give a fuck about information.”

Bucky’s eyes harden at the new information.

“I’ll come with you.”

The two men walk down to the basement and into the soundproof room. Sam was standing over Rollins, who already had a few cuts and scrapes along with the gunshot wounds. Steve doesn’t waste any time at all as he connects his fist with Rollin’s jaw. The man, who had been tied to a chair, falls backwards.

“I’m guessing that pretty little thing you have upstairs told you about our time together.” Rollins chuckles. “She was real sweet.0

Steve lands a few more hits before he stretches his hand out behind him. Bucky already knows what Steve wants and hands him a knife. Steve inspects it carefully before looking down at the man below him.

“Oohh should I be-Aahh.” Rollins screams when Steve plunges the knife into the bullet wound on his shoulder. Blood splatters into Steve’s face but it doesn’t deter him.

****

When Steve finally stopped his assault he was covered in blood. Steve’s anger hadn’t subsided even as he walked back into the kitchen. The others were gathered around the island talking about what happened when he joined them.

“Has anyone checked in on Y/N?” He asked.

“Still sleeping boss.”

He nods and starts walking out. “I’ll be back in about 10 minutes. I want to know everything when I come back.”

Steve goes up to his room to shower and change quickly. Then he heads back down to the kitchen. Dom has a cup of coffee ready for him. The sun was just starting to light up the sky. Steve grabs his cup and takes a sip.

“What do we have?” He asks as he takes a seat at the kitchen table.

“Rollins killed some of the guards around the perimeter, enough to slip by undetected. He hacked the security system. He couldn’t completely deactivate it but he delayed the notification Coulson would get.” Clint said.

“He was looking for Beck. But he won’t say anything else.”

“What should we do now?” Bucky asks.

“First I want him out of the house. Get him some medical attention, I’m not done with him just yet.” Steve orders. “Let’s double up the guards. Let’s have Jensen double check the security system and upgrade whatever needs to be upgraded.”

“How is Peter doing?”

Steve and the rest of the group turn to see you standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Even though you slept most of the night you look exhausted. Eyes are red and slightly swollen as if you’d just been crying.

“Peter’s fine. He just ripped some stitches, he’s in his room sleeping.” Nat tells you.

You nod as Dom walks over to you.

“Want some coffee, Mia Cara?”

You shake your head. Dom opens his arms for you and you step into his embrace. The older man pats your back in a comforting manner.

“You’re safe now, Mia Cara. We won’t let anything like this happen again. You hear me?” He reassures you.

You just nod against his chest. Everyone silently shuffles out of the kitchen. Dom places a chaste kiss on your forehead and leaves, giving you and Steve some privacy.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asks as he gets up and moves towards you.

You shrug. Other than being worried about Eli you were numb to the whole situation.

“Baby, look at me.” Steve says softly. He tucks a finger under your chin and pulls up so that you have to look at him.

You’re fighting back tears for what felt like the millionth time.

“Tell me what you need?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about some time away from here? We can get away for a weekend and take Eli somewhere fun. What do you say?” Steve offers.

It angered him all over again to see you like this. A shell of who you really are. Your arms wrapped around yourself. Steve didn’t like seeing you down like this although it was completely understandable.

You shrug again in response and he sighs.

“Why don’t you go rest for a little bit longer and I’ll have Dom make you something and bring it up.”

“I can’t.” You mumble as you look around the room.

“Why?”

“I have to work.”

“You’re joking right? You aren’t going to be working today. Regina will be in any minute now, she’ll do what she can. You worry about taking care of yourself and Eli.” Steve says as he leads you out of the kitchen and into the living room.

In the distance you hear the door that is normally used by the house staff to come in and out.

“See, that's probably Regina right now. I’ll talk to her.”

You gasp when Regina appears in the doorway. She’s sporting a black eye, busted lip, bruises around her throat and she’s holding her side as if it hurt. You rush over to her to make sure she’s ok.

“What happened?”

“The-these men they-they broke into my house early this morning.” She sobbed before hiding her face in your shoulder.

“Fuck. Bucky, Sam.” Steve yells for them. The two men rush out of the hallway that leads to Steve’s office.

“What happened?” Bucky asks once he sees Regina crying.

You tell them what she had just said since she couldn’t control her crying. Both men look back at Steve, the same anger in their eyes. Dom and Coulson soon join the others.

“Do you know who did this?” You ask her as you guide her to the couch.

“No. I’ve never seen them before. I was sleeping when they broke in.” Regina sniffles.

“Did they say what they wanted?”

Regina nods. “They told me that I had to get whatever information that I could on you and report back to them.”

“I have a few questions.”

“Ask away.”

“How did they know you work for me?” Steve asks and you look between him and Regina.

“I don’t know, maybe they had been following me?”

“Why tell me?”

Regina swallows thickly as tears well up in her eyes again. “Well everyone here has been so nice to me, and this is the first job I don’t have to get almost naked to get money for,” She sighs, wincing due to her injured ribs. “I didn’t want to ruin what I had here. But my grandma, she’s in a nursing home and they had pictures of her. They said that they’d hurt me and make her watch.”

“They said the same about me and Eli.”

“Wait what?” Regina looks at you confused.

“Someone broke in last night.”

“What is happening?” Regina asked. She was scared and so were you. The only difference was that you knew Steve would make things right.

“I don’t know but I’m going to find out. In the meantime you can’t go back to your place.” Steve tells her. “We’ll have someone pick up some clothes for you and have a doctor look you over. Do you think you could recognize these men if you saw them again?”

“Maybe. Oh wait,” Regina grabs her phone. “Would a video help?”

“You have a video of them?”

She looks at Bucky and nods. “I installed a doorbell camera and a camera in the living room. Here, you can definitely see their faces.”

“You have a camera in your living room?” Sam asks suspiciously.

“I live alone and I’m single. There have been some break ins around the neighborhood. I was trying to protect myself.” She says as she hands the phone over to Bucky.

Sam and Steve huddle around Bucky to look at the video Regina had. They see her being dragged out of her room and beaten. Unfortunately they didn’t recognize the men in the video but they would find them nonetheless.

“Thank you for this. I don’t know who they are but we’re going to find them.” Steve tells her. “Y/N can I talk to you for a minute?”

You get up and follow Steve into his office where he closes the door behind you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Steve after watching him pace back and forth for a few minutes. “Is it about whoever broke into Regina’s place?”

Steve leans against his desk and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’ll most likely have to be out more. At least while I track these sons of bitches down.”

“Ok, and?”

“Will you be ok here? After last night… I’m doing everything to make sure this place is more secure.”

“Ok.”

“I’m also going to assign Nat to be with you whenever you go out. I know you’re independent but I need you to do as she says if something were to happen.”

“Do you think someone would try to hurt me again?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean look at what they did to Regina and she hasn’t even been here that long. I’m not going to risk you and Eli being in danger again.” Steve pushes himself off the desk and walks over to you. “It should’ve never happened in the first place. I’m going to handle this.”

“I’m more worried about Elijah than myself.”

“Of course you are because you’re a good mom.” Steve cups your face when he sees your eyes start getting glassy. “You just take care of him like you always do and I’ll keep you both safe.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

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franklyimissparis · 4 months

Note

hi there can i ask what are your favourite fics??

ahhhhhh this was so hard to narrow down since i think i have something like 300 beatles fics bookmarked on ao3 (plus a ton saved from livejournal but i’ve only included ao3 ones here). at first i was gonna pick a top 5 or top 10 but that was too hard so here are my top 24-ish i think? could have picked a lot more tbh. i only included fics that are completed, even though there are a lot i love that are either WIP or abandoned. also didn’t include any modern AUs though there’s a lot of those that i love as well! if anyone has any specific requests for other fic reqs i’m always happy to suggest more :)

on our way back home by kathleenishereagain

this fic has the most kudos in the fandom for a reason! old paul time travels back to the touring days and his relationship with john changes from there. love the way they integrated the magical realism into this and it’s just such a beautiful, touching story.

knowing that the sun is there by tarenas

john comes out after brian dies. lovely look at john’s individual relationships with all of the beatles and cynthia (but especially his relationship with paul of course)

cutting water with a knife by savageandwise

may’s perspective on john and paul. love love love. heartbreakingly realistic and so poignant. feels like it could have been a cut chapter out of loving john.

i’m so tired, my mind is set on you by dornfelder

god how i wish this is what would have happened in india. i’ve read this fic so many times, it just feels so real i keep coming back to it.

india, actually by inspiteallthedanger

jane notices that john’s india tapes are all of paul a la love actually. love jane in this and paul and john’s dynamic is great.

grow old with me by inherownwrite

john and paul in scotland in the 80s - paul breaks his arm and gives john a fright. such a tender picture of what could have been had things not ended how they did.

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) by fingersfallingupwards

using the time traveller’s wife premise in quite literally the best way i have ever read. the way it unfolds is…. stunning.

having coffee by dornfelder

old paul and john reflecting on life and being outed in the 80s through an interview. lovely.

to lead a better life by downtothelastdrop

1966 ringo mistakenly thinks john and paul are together, leading to a revelation of paul’s own.

going nowhere by inspiteallthedanger

fix-it where after surviving the shooting, john moves back to england.

if i could choose my own name, it’d be the one that falls best from your lips by kandakicksass

one of my favourite reincarnation fics ever. i really enjoyed how simple it was, how the pieces just slid into place so naturally.

the birthday party by merseydreams

everyone reunites for ringo’s 40th in july 1980. an excellent look at the dynamic between all the bugs and how things could have gone.

something old something new by inspiteallthedanger

john shows up to pattie and eric’s wedding causing a beatles reunion for the first time in years and some shenanigans and talks with paul. this fic is hilarious and THIS is my george, i love him so much

1967 by please_dont_wake_me

paul and john stay in paris after their 1961 trip. they return to liverpool in 1967 as a couple. this feels so real, the way every minor character is written… the dynamics between them all - every detail is excellent.

the beatles holiday au series by econhomework

an AU that follows john and paul (and george/ringo) being a committed couple in the 60s/70s and having their children via surrogacy. i’ve been subscribed to this series for years now and it’s a lot of fun getting an update that builds upon the last around every holiday, giving a little snippet into their lives as the kids grow up chronologically. (they also have other fics set in this AU in their beatles fic requests series)

the brother dearest series by javelinbk

jim and mimi get married, causing john and paul to become step-brothers (sort of). interesting premise and an even better execution of it. not to mention the idea of jim and mimi getting together will never fail to make me laugh (but also sort of makes a lot of sense???)

how much was mine to keep by mynamesbetty

paul is ‘unstuck in time’ and lives his life out of order a la slaughterhouse five (one of my favourite novels). done very well.

take a sad song and make it better by javelinbk

1980s paul moves his ex-boyfriend into his house because he’s an idiot but i love him. great fix-it.

christmas lights (keep shinin’ on) by distinguished_like

paul invites john to the mccartney family christmas party, leading to some discussions between the two. very cute early years fic.

here today by herspecialagent005

december 1980 except john and paul are hosting a dinner party for some friends in scotland, with magical realism elements. ugh loved this so much, especially linda and just all the little details of john and paul settling into a life together.

kissing the blarney by tikk

paul is the blarney - this turns into a superstitious ritual in the band which emotionally complicates things but ends very satisfyingly.

writing letters (on my wall) by 15clubsaday

70s paul writes to john under a pseudonym while they aren’t speaking. newly finished and wonderful!

the jumper by merseydreams

john sees denny laine wearing HIS jumper and flies back to england to retrieve it. this fic has everything: miscommunication, john being a dumb shite, jealousy, confused denny laine, paul in all his 70s glory, and lesbian linda. truly could not ask for more.

back to where you belong by sleeprettydarling

george on johnandpaul throughout the early years. i’m a big sucker for the george & johnandpaul dynamic and how complicated and devastating it can be so naturally i loved this.

#sorry this is so long anon! but thanks for the ask hope you found some new fics to check out! :)#asks #mclennon #beatles fic #john and paul #beatles rpf #john lennon #paul mccartney #the beatles

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munsonhoneybaby · 10 months

Note

sweet leaf was incredible😭 i’m kinda sad it’s over becasue i loved it so much but i’m so happy with how it ended<3 if your interested in doing any blurbs or anything for this fic i’d love to see them say their i love you’s to eachother

i threw that bit of eddie saying it in the final chapter hoping i could do something little like this lol so tysm for this ask

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You were unconscious the first time Eddie told you he loved you. It was still a bit of a secret then, as you slept peacefully against his chest the night before you told Dustin about your relationship. You didn’t hear him and, though you weren’t meant to, that left the heavy feeling of those words on his tongue. It was like he was choking on them every moment he was around you.

When you played songs you hadn’t known he’d loved or wore a piece of clothing he’d never seen before or waited up for him after a show– it all made him feel like he had to duct tape his mouth just to keep it shut. Generally, he felt like he did a good job reading you, but you seemed to struggle with some things like this and the last thing he wanted was to force you to move too fast. He wanted to wait for the right time. Still, he only had so much self-restraint; about three weeks’ worth of restraint, to be more specific.

It had been crushing him that day, the weight of those words. From the moment you’d called him that morning to confirm your plans, ‘til the moment he found himself watching you from his desk. He was supposed to be working on the campaign; it would be coming to a close soon and he needed something that would really knock those little dweebs on their asses but, lo and behold, he kept getting distracted. Your shorts left your legs mostly bare, your sock-covered feet rubbing absentmindedly against his bed as you worked your way through the fifth chapter of The Hobbit, which he’d implored you to read after finding out you hadn’t yet. He loved the serious, pout-like expression you always wore when you read. Fingers tapping against the hardback cover in time with the music, you hadn’t noticed him staring, only looking up when he finally spoke.

“I love you.”

He almost physically slapped his hand over his own mouth, like silencing himself now could make you forget hearing them. Your eyes were wide with surprise, but he couldn’t determine what that emotion clearly blended with it was. Discomfort? Pity?

But then your eyes nearly glazed over with a warm look of something like adoration, a look you sometimes got when he helped you with things and when you smoked– and especially after sex. That sheepish, awe-filled expression that always stops his heart in his chest. When you replied, your voice was small and bashful, but oh so sweet. “I love you too, Eddie.”

Since then, he says it all the time. When you’re on the phone, when you’re having dinner, when you’re having sex, when he watches you smoke…

“Goodnight, sweetheart, I love you.”

“Love you, gorgeous.”

“Fuck yes, baby, love you so fuckin’ much.”

“God, I’m in love with you. My pretty girl.”

He says it so much he starts to worry that you’ll get sick of it, but every time you get that flustered, doe-eyed look on your face and softly murmur back, “I love you more, Eds.”

———————————————————————-

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

#asks #too much in common #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x f!reader

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jasntodds · 6 months

Text

Petrichor [14]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 15,441

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of abuse, description of withdrawal, mentions of scars, jason's self-hatred, hurt/comfort, a little blood

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Because I decided to start fixing things last chapter, I had to rewrite this entire chapter lmao so I'm sorry it's late!! I also split this chapter into 2 parts because it was over 30k words please help lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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The next morning, Jason shoots awake from a nightmare but outside of the initial panic and rumbling heartbeat he almost feels too accustomed to, he’s confused. His eyes are on the dresser on the opposite wall and it takes him a minute to process how he even got here. The last clear thing he remembers is choking and not being able to breathe because Crane drugged him. Jason sucks in a few breaths, brows pulling together as he shakes the nightmare away and tries to piece together details from last night.

It’s all a little foggy and jumbled but he remembers being duct taped and Crane saying something about destroying the Titans and then you. Then he remembers the pump station, being tied up there. Then, he remembers you completely suited up and your hands on his cheeks, panic in your eyes.

Jason’s heart thunders again, realizing it was you that brought him back here.

You came to find him.

His head feels like it’s going to explode. A migraine is kicking in his skull as if it’s armed with a battering ram. The more he tries to remember details, the more his head hurts but he tries away. And he looks down, realizing he’s not in the Red Hood gear anymore but he has no memory of changing. Something about missing large pieces of time is scary and frustrating. So much could have happened and he just has no memory of it. And he’s thinking something went wrong, maybe he did or said something because you aren’t here and he knows what happened with you two. But, if you showed up to save him, you wouldn’t just leave unless you had a good reason. You’d always stay to make sure he were okay and then you’d probably tell him off and leave. But, you're not here.

What did he do now?

He puts his head in his hands, groaning loudly. His head starts to spin and his stomach cramps into knots. It twists and turns sending him into a nauseous spin. His bones feel wrong, like they want to vibrate out of his own skin and he feels sweaty but he’s cold. He’s frustrated and alone and devastated and going through withdrawal and everything sucks. He really had to go fuck it all up. Nothing was really all that bad, not compared to how it is now and he’d do anything to go back there. At this point, he might even take the paralyzing fear and panic attacks.

Jason sucks in a breath, lifting his head before he looks to the side of the mattress to try to will himself to get up but that’s when he sees a piece of paper. He plucks it up, unfolding it.

“Kidnappers: 0 You and me: 4 - Y/n <3”

Jason’s chest feels warm as a small smile starts to tug at his lips. Of all the things you could write in a note, it would be that. His eyes stay on the note and maybe you did have to go for another reason. If you were that mad at him, you wouldn’t leave him a note, not this note anyway. So, Jason folds it into a small square and puts it into the pocket of his sweatpants before he wills himself to get up.

Jason makes his way down the large staircase as his head feels like it’s wobbling. He knows withdrawal is tortuous. He knows that but he really didn’t expect it to feel like this. As much as he tries to not think about it, the only thing he wants is the drug. It’s the only thought that’s coming through clear as day, taunting about how much better he’ll feel if he just takes it. His head won’t feel like it’s exploding and he won’t want to peal his skin off of his bones. The cramps will vanish and he won’t feel the shaking in his hands anymore, just like old times. The back cramp will go away and his leg won’t be in pain. Jason knows it’s a bad idea, based on last night, but it’s growing more and more tempting with every step he takes down the stairs.

“Wow, you look like shit.”

Jason jumps as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, eyes shooting up to the bench in front of the end of the staircase. You're lying there, your phone above your face and your knees are bent, feet planted on the bench.

You didn’t leave?

“Fuck you.” Jason mutters, brows knitting together as he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on.

Why didn’t you leave?

You glance back to him from the corner of your eyes and he does look terrible. The dark circles are back, more prominent than they were the other night. The light in his eyes is gone and he’s really pale. He looks like he might actually be sick and you think his cheeks look a little more hollowed than they did before. His hair doesn’t even have the same volume that it normally does and it breaks your heart.

He’s going through it now and this time there actually might be nothing you can even offer to do to help. At least before, you could just offer to listen and be there for him. That was always something but this is different. He’s just going to have to ride it out and you feel horrible for it.

You grin softly to yourself, typing away at your screen before you sit up, planting your feet on the floor. “It’s true.” You shrug your shoulders. You bend down, sliding a white box out from under the bench before you pick it up. “Got donuts, picked up a few of your favorites.” You hold out the box for Jason but his stomach just twists at the thought of food.

“Not hungry.” He nearly grimaces as he looks to his own shoes.

You nod, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, it’s called withdrawal. You should eat anyway. You need some sugar, hence donut. Plus, dough is filling. It might help.” You extend your arms further. “Eat.”

Jason hesitates, looking to the right before he hangs his head, letting out a sigh and then walks over to you. You're one of the most persistent and persuasive people Jason has ever met and he is under no condition or mood to try and even argue with that. You’ll win anyway. You always win in some way. He sits beside you while you open the box, giving him one of the four donuts that are left. Jason raises a brow, wondering if you've eaten.

“Here.” You grab a bottle of water from the side of the bench and hand that to him. “You also need some water.”

Jason takes it from you slowly as he grows more and more confused. What the ever-living-fuck happened last night that he does not remember? The last thing he knew, you two were not speaking. You might have rescued him but this is weird, even for you. You're sturdy in your beliefs and sturdy in your own words. You're being awfully nice and it’s freaking Jason out. He’s starting to think he might be running a fever and maybe this is all just a very vivid dream. You have no reason to be this nice to him at the moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You question, your brows furrowing together as Jason just looks at you as if you're some sort of math problem he can’t figure out.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jason finally asks, looking at the donuts and then back to you.

Your heart skips a beat and you knew he’d be confused. That’s a little bit of why you're doing it. A little bit of payback for the hell he’s been putting you through. But, if you wanted to be brutally honest, the guilt of saying you were giving up him is eating at you from the inside out. It is one of the only things you think about because it doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean it because Jason thinks you do. Why wouldn’t he? You literally said it out loud. And then he got kidnapped and drugged. You don’t want to abandon him, drug or not. And last night you got to see a part of the old Jason you thought maybe didn’t come back when he came back to life. You thought maybe, the pit kept a part of his soul. But, last night, he was him. Drugged and high, but him. The Jason you know and love. So, you're here, being nice and making sure he’s eating and getting water because he should have someone in his corner anyway.

Last night, Dick said you and Gar did a good job and you suddenly understood Jason’s entire motive. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders by Bruce and made worse by being a replacement to Dick. That wasn’t Dick’s fault, but he could have done more. And it was never about having someone to help him lift the weight, it was always about Jason needing to find his own footing outside of the approval of who he looked up to most. That’s just…a lot easier said than done. He needed the one person who gave him everything, not to abandon him but he did anyway. You understand his motive and you're thinking, abandonment is the worst possible option for him. It always was. And you should have known, because it was always the worst option for you, too.

You offer a cheeky smile, faking it entirely. “Is it freaking you out?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Jason snips.

He’s thinking he’s either running a fever, he’s hallucinating, he died again, or he’s in some type of coma thanks to the drug Crane gave him. This whole thing just feels weird and the you he knows would be telling him off and calling him a shithead for getting himself into this mess and then immediately saying it wasn’t actually his fault. Jason knows it is. But, you always tell him it’s not. This time though, you're just offering him food as if nothing happened the last few days. He would love if you two could just move on as if nothing happened, but the reality is that it did happen. Last night and the night before happened. You aren’t nearly as forgiving as he is.

You let out a laugh, leaning your head back. “Good.”

You do not want him to know how worried you are about him or about your own guilt. He’s already going to have a rough few days getting the drug out of his system and you don’t want to make it any worse. At this point, the only thing you want is for things to go back to some type of normal. You know you have to talk and sort it out but you want to feel normal, without all the weight, for just a few minutes even. You want a break from everything. And Jason was always your safe haven when things got too heavy and too loud. He was always good at carrying the weight that didn’t belong to him and blocking out the noise.

Jason's face drops but a smile slowly creeps onto his face. “Are you fucking with me?”

You snicker softly. “I mean, you do need food and water, but yeah.” You nod your head. “I’m always fucking with you.” You say softly as you roll your shoulders.

Jason’s entire chest starts to swarm with a vibrating warmth. “Fuck you.” Jason quips, a gentle smile on his lips before he picks up a donut, eyeing it softly. The last thing he wants right now is food.

“Just eat it, Jay. It’ll help.” You say softly, seeing the hesitation on his face.

Jason shakes his head and he needs to do anything else and not eat, or at least try to distract himself to eat. He can’t concentrate on much but he’s curious enough as to why you're still here. You're fucking with him as usual, but he does not deserve your kindness or you trying to take care of him. He should be doing it on his own, after everything he did. To all of you. This isn’t right. Yet, you're still somehow here.

“Have you been here the whole time?” Jason asks.

“No.” You answer simply, swinging your feet slightly. “Gar came to bring me clothes so we went to get some food down the street real quick and got extra for you. Came right back though just in case you woke up.” You explain, looking back to him with a soft smile.

You didn’t want to go far. You didn’t want Jason to think you would just up and leave again. It has to be different this time. Jason was an apologizing mess last night and being held captive is traumatic. You were never going to leave without making sure he was okay and seeing if he did want to have that conversation for real. It might be heavy but maybe it’ll make things kind of, sort of, normal again. But, Gar insisted on breakfast and you weren’t going to disappoint him again.

“Why the fuck did you come anyway?” Jason asks before he finally gets the courage to take a bite of the donut. “You said not to contact you and shit.”

He doesn’t say it out of spite this time. He says it because it’s true and as mad and as hurt as he was, he also gets it. Now that he’s sober, he doesn’t even blame you. He thinks you should have done that from the start, even if it’s killing him on the inside. The last good thing about him was you and he destroyed every part of that. You don’t deserve that but you're here anyway. Offering him food and acting normal. One of the things he always really liked about you is that he could never really figure you out.

You turn your full attention to him, your heart sinking with any hope of having that conversation today. If he doesn’t remember anything, he doesn’t remember what you said or you seeing his scars or helping him or him asking you to stay. It’s not that you want him to remember any of it. In your opinion, he’s lucky not to remember most of it. Maybe he won’t see it that way, but you do. Even if it doesn’t quite work out for you.

“You don’t remember much of last night, do you?” You ask and Jason shakes his head shamefully. “I’ll always come find you.” You say casually but your voice is just above a whisper. “You’d do it for me.” You shrug easily and your words make Jason look to your neck where he can see the silver peaking out from under your hoodie. “You, uh, you said to bring you here so I did. You asked me to stay so I did. You, uh, you….you were apologizing a lot so I said we could talk later if you still wanted to.” You tug your sleeves over your hands.

Jason nods his head, slowly making his way through his food with a few sips of water. That explains a lot actually. He isn’t sure exactly what he was like last night, but he’s imagining it wasn’t too pretty if he had to ask you to stay. And maybe having a conversation is why you stayed, a sense of hope, maybe. If you're willing, he’d love to talk about it for once but his head also hurts and his spine feels like it wants to crack out of his back. The withdrawal is making it hard enough to even have this conversation with you. He thinks if you’ll talk, it should be when he can actually participate properly. You deserve that much.

“Thanks for staying.” Jason says quietly. “Don’t fucking deserve.” Jason lets out a scoff as he shakes his head.

You furrow your brows as you turn to face him, pulling your knee on the bench so the bottom of your shoe rests against your other leg off the bench. “You know, you should know by now that I think you deserve the world, Jay.”

“Why?” Jason huffs and a part of him is getting pissed that you even think that. Do you not understand the gravity of the things he’s done? “Look at what I’ve become!”

“It’s not really you.” You say softly. “And I know you know that.” You nod your head quickly. “But you never thought you deserved better. I know shit gets bad for you and always has been. But, that shit never mattered to me. You did.” You say and Jason thinks he just swallowed his own heart. Did? “Do.” You state firmly. “You do. Anti-fear drug you isn’t the real you.”

Maybe the anti-fear drug version of him isn't really him but Robin wasn't either. Living in a fancy mansion with money and everything he could have wanted. Following directly behind Bruce and Dick, trying to fill their shoes when their viewpoints are so wildly different. Bruce can try all he wants but Batman was born from vengeance. He got to go home to a cave underneath his fancy mansion with all of his tech Jason couldn't even dream of touching before. Bruce was raised by a fucking butler that was still on Bruce's payroll. Batman was born because Bruce's rich parents were killed in cold blood. And Bruce had all of the means to make Batman happen. That's great, Jason fully believes that's great, but it's different.

Bruce didn't see the dealers or sex workers or the pimps or addicts or traffickers in the flesh. Bruce didn't see that some of those people "breaking the law" were just doing what they had to do to survive because the system was never meant to help them. Jason might have some resentment towards his dad for everything, but he also knows his dad was trying because job after job didn't work out like it should have. He was down and out, but he tried. He was an asshole and he was abusive, but maybe some of how he ended up like that was circumstances. It doesn't make it right, but maybe that's part of it. Jason understands his dad was trying to provide in some way and it turned him into an abusive prick and then it got him killed.

Jason knows his mom's addiction didn't help and it didn't make her the best mom. But, he also knows that that was her way of trying to provide because she used to use to function and the addiction set in. She took them to survive in her own way. His uncle drank to survive. That's how it is sometimes. And that's what he saw, everyday, and not just from his own family. It's what he knew and he also grew up knowing, no one is going to help them. Not even Batman. They are on their own.

Jason grew up knowing sometimes people do "bad" things in order to survive and provide, but Bruce never saw that first hand so his morals on Batman are entirely skewed and bias for the sake of upholding the law and putting "bad people" away. But, Jason's views were always landing in a grey area that not all "bad people" are actually bad and deserve to be thrown away. Robin gave him magic but he also had to give up some of his own morals and beliefs in order to wear the cape and mask.

Robin was never really him, either.

“Robin wasn't the real me either.” Jason scoffs.

Your eyes narrow softly at him because it's such an odd comment coming from him. Robin was everything to him before and maybe you do get it. It got him killed, it's different now. There's a lot of bad blood stained over Robin but...you don't entirely think that's true.

“That’s not true. The whole, mansion shit, yeah.” You laugh softly. “But, wanting to be the voice for people who get left behind? Yeah, that’s still you, Jay.” You shrug your shoulders. “You always liked kicking ass, people who deserve it because they did something wrong. Not because you like to fight. I mean, you’re argumentative as fuck, but physically violent, not so much. It’s a misconception that you play into because it’s easier than letting people see the real you or whatever. Robin let you be this hero and you had to roll with Batman and shit, but…you got to help people.” You shake your head. “Like me.” You clear your throat. "That's you." You offer a soft nod at him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

As far as Jason can see, he's never really helped you. Not really. He thinks he's only made everything worse. Between getting kidnapped and making you lose sleep and dying and now everything else. He's pretty sure you were always better off without him. How the hell do you think he actually helped you?

“How the fuck do you figure I helped you?” Jason shakes his head and he definitely is not well enough to be having this conversation.

You think of every way Jason has saved your life, some of the times a little too dark to share with him at the moment. But, you think about them and you think about all the other times where he's helped you, even with small stuff like getting something down from a cabinet. You've never told him but you think one of the reasons you are who you are today is because of him.

You pull the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. "I felt like maybe the stuff with Jerry was my fault. Spent a lot of time thinking that but...one of the first things you told me was that he was a piece of shit and I didn't deserve it. You didn't even know me. But, it helped and you never made me feel like what happened to me was ever my fault. And uh, you trained me so I wouldn't be scared to leave the tower. Maybe the knives is a thing...or maybe it's because you trained me. Sparred with Gar the other day, I still won. Because you trained me." You suck in a shaky breath, pausing softly. "Um...and I just...I'm alive today because of you." You nod at him once, seeing Jason's face wanting to twist to question it. "So, maybe Robin wasn’t completely the real you, but Robin was enough of the real you. You put yourself into Robin. And you can put yourself into Red Hood. Without Bruce. Without Batman.” You rush your words, making sure Jason can't get a word in. “So, I guess, I’m just saying that you always deserve better, even if you don’t believe me. And I just hope you understand that one day, Jay.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me any of that before?" Jason asks, turning to match your position as his right shin touches yours.

Truthfully, it all seemed too honest. A little too scary to tell him what kind of impact he had on you. It’s more than that, there’s more you haven’t told him as a way to protect yourself and maybe even him. You always felt if you told him those things, maybe it’d change. Maybe it would change how he viewed you and maybe it would change how you felt he viewed you. Maybe he’d feel some sort of obligation and you hate when people feel obligated to you for something. You should know Jason never does something for someone strictly out of obligation, but you feared it anyway. And if you told him, what happens when he doesn’t come home?

Saying everything out loud makes it real. And he didn’t come home anyway.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know.” You keep your thoughts to yourself, knowing if you think too much about everything, the tears will start again. “Uh…I’ll always stay if you ask me to.” You nod your head softly.

Jason watches you carefully and he could always tell when there was more on your mind but it looks like it is physically paining you to even talk about it. The guilt starts to take over and Jason wants you to not be in pain anymore. He'll take it if that's what he has to do, he doesn't care anymore.

“You really shouldn’t.” Jason nearly mutters the words.

You know him better than anyone and that was always what he feared. You know him better than anyone which means he’s more susceptible to getting hurt. He’s already hurt himself enough for the both of you but then everything with Excellent Gotham happened and now you're the one torn between him and everyone else. He’s hurt because you're hurt and that’s all this is turning into.

Maybe a small part of him regrets the two of you, as thankful as he is you're here. As much as he appreciates your company and your kindness, he has crossed the line and maybe had you never gotten together, you wouldn’t be the one in pain. Maybe had you not gotten together, this whole thing would be easier for him. He wouldn’t feel like he let another person down and pushed them to their very brink of existence. He wouldn’t feel like he exposed himself too much to the elements. He’d still feel safe in his bubble of self-destruction and self-hatred. It wouldn’t hurt you.

You're too good anyway.

So, he pushes out of some painful mix of self-preservation and self-destruction.

“You know, uh, I think about that…night with Deathstroke.” You swallow thickly. “Not…not the kidnapping so much anymore but…after.” You stress, looking to your leg and picking at the hem of your pants. “In the bathroom and I don’t know. You pushed and gave me every reason to, uh, to run like I usually do and I know…we did do what we do best in the end but…not…ya know?” You shake your head, looking back at him. “You pushed and I stood there anyway and told you that you matter to me. And it was like…the first time I ever felt like I could stay…if you’d have me.”

Jason’s heart starts to ache from inside of his chest like he’s just been stabbed. Did he make you feel unwanted? That was never it. He was just scared and pushing always seemed easier and you never put up a fight about it. He thought you were on the same page of pushing and running. You both did it until you couldn’t. The risk of everything you both ever feared didn’t seem to matter anymore so you both decided to stay and Jason can’t decide if that was for better or worse. But, he’s looking at the distant look in your eyes and he’s thinking maybe it was for the worse for you. You always made him better.

“Even as a friend. Like I said, I agreed with you and we did what we do best.” You shake your head. “And you did.” You nod your head. “You showed up to my room the next night and I just…” You suck in a deep breath, looking up to the ceiling and back to him. “I knew I could stay. I didn’t have to run from you.” You tug your sleeves over your hands. “So, um…I know you want to,” You nod your head with understanding but your heart is breaking with every second that passes. “But, can…can you please not push me away this time? Please, Jay.” You offer him a sad and weak smile as the lump in your throat starts to grow. “I know things are complicated right now but you’re my best friend and I really miss you.” Your voice cracks as water starts to brim your eyes.

Even after everything, you have a way of getting him to cave. Pushing has always been his best defense mechanism. It has always worked and it has always been easy. It has always hurt him, which was fine because at least it was self-inflicted. But, you make the whole thing hard because it doesn’t just hurt him. It hurts you, too. And Jason knows how badly it hurt when you left. Maybe part of making amends is letting go of bad coping mechanisms. Maybe it’s doing things that hurt and are scary. He does love you and he does miss you, too. He’s tired of being alone and he’s tired of being in pain. And he's tired of putting you through pain. So, he nods.

“I miss you, too." Jason's voice is rough and low but honest and sincere, earning him an almost relieved sigh from you. "I just fucked everything up this time.” Jason says quietly. “Really fucked it up.” Jason nods. “With you and the Titans. How the fuck do I come back from that?”

“You apologize and get clean.” You shrug. “I mean, I’m the only one who really understands it so you just…have to try.”

“That’s it? I try and they welcome me back with open arms?” Jason scoffs at the thought. It’s never that easy. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

"I mean, I'm still welcome to be a Titan and I'm killing people. All of you almost killed Gar." You nod your head quickly. "So, they have to welcome you back because otherwise they're just hypocrites." You offer him a cheeky smile. "You just have to try, Jay. And if that doesn't work, then fuck em." You shrug your shoulders sarcastically. "You still got me and you got Gar." A genuine smile comes to your lips as you rest your hand on top of his.

Jason thinks the simple act alone just lit his entire body on fire so he smiles back, subtle but there. "Yeah, alright." Jason manages a soft chuckle as he shakes his head. “When are you going back?” Jason asks softly, not really wanting you to leave.

“Oh…uh, well, you were just drugged so I thought…I’d hang around if that’s okay.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you pull your hand back into your lap.

Liar.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Jason asks bluntly. “Don’t pull that bullshit about how you’re just worried about me or whatever. Something’s going on.” Jason can always tell when you're lying and he swears part of that is because you almost never do.

You chew the inside of your cheek and he’s right, something in going on. You've been thinking a lot about how you finally understand it. The whole Bruce and Dick thing. You finally get it and you actually hate it. Of course, understanding Jason is always nice but you hate that you feel that way. Every day since you've watched Jason deteriorate over Robin, you swore you would never be like him or Dick and yet here you are. In the same damn position. And you won’t let that happen. And the more you sit and the more you think about it, the more you wonder if the reason you threw in the towel over Jason is because of your obligation to the Titans.

You have a bigger obligation to Jason and yourself but maybe that played a little bit of a hand. Maybe your loyalty runs a little deeper than you thought because Dick saved your life and brought you into this world. But, you don’t want that. Something has to fucking give and you're not sacrificing your views or your morals anymore. Maybe it’ll be for the better and maybe it’ll be for the worse, but at least you know you're doing something you can live with. At least you're doing it because it’s what you believe in.

You're also still a little mad that Dick was willing to sacrifice Jason if last night wasn't a trap and Crane went off the deep end. There is still that.

“I am, uh, mad at Dick. Shocker, I know.” You crunch your nose before rolling your eyes. “But, um…he said we did a good job last night and I just…felt so validated and I hated that. Because it was more than just being validated, it was being validated by him. And he said it could have been a trap and he's right but he didn't fucking stop me from going. It could have been a trap and I could have been killed, blah blah blah, right? Well, he let me fucking go alone. He didn’t pressure Gar for information. So, I just…I don’t wanna go there. It doesn’t even feel like home anymore fucking anyway. So…yeah.” You rush your words, trying to play it off because you don't particularly want to talk about it.

“So…you’re mad at Dick so you’re just...switching sides?” Jason questions, not really sure he understands why you would do that. "And what the hell would you have done if it were a trap? Hate fucking saying it, but he's kind of right." Jason nearly grimaces at the thought of agreeing with Dick, but it could have been a trap for the Titans. You had no way of knowing otherwise.

“Was I ever really not on your side?” You quip. “No, it’s…” You suck in a breath and you shrug your shoulders. “I know that if you stay off of the drug then you’re you again. That’s where I want to stand and I want to be here when you are clean. You’re where I always want to be.” You nearly whisper. "And, if it were a trap, I knew that if I showed up, you'd do everything in your power to get me out of there. It would never be a trap for me, just the Titans. So, I wasn't worried. I know Excellent Gotham was an accident. Shit happens, but I'm almost always safe with you and I know that." You offer a soft but closed smile. "You and me."

Jason pauses and he thinks back to the day he walked onto the roof. He thinks he’s starting to feel that way again. Worthless, useless, damaged, broken, unloved, unworthy, filled of poison. Everything comes back to him. But, he’s sitting next to you and he also remembers you that day.

You were the only one that stood up for him and you were the only one who came out to the roof to try to talk him down. You're always the only one, if he has no one else, he has you. And he remembers you literally telling him that if you're alive, he’ll never have to be alone. You broke up with him and he’s still not alone. Maybe you're crazy for it but Jason knows in order for you to still be with him, in any context, you're having to sacrifice a lot. In order to make sure you keep that promise to him, you're the one sacrificing yourself and your friends. For some reason, you believe in him so maybe it’s time Jason takes a step back and starts sacrificing, too and believing in himself. If you can, he owes it to you to try, too. It’s supposed to be him and you.

"I'm still really sorry for that." Jason lets out a breath. "But, next time, can you bring someone with you in case it is a trap?" Jason lets out a soft laugh. "I'd never let some shit happen to you but, just in case." Jason nods head quickly, the white streak flopping around slightly.

You let out a laugh as you look down and then back to him. "Yeah, okay because you asked so nicely." You say sarcastically.

Jason shakes his head but his chest is starting to feel a little better. “I’m gonna make it up to you, alright?” Jason says sternly. “Don’t know how yet, but I’m going to. I fucking owe you.”

You offer a soft smile. “I expect a lot of homecooked meals and for you to drive me around.” You nod as a cheeky smile starts to come to your face.

Jason lets out a soft laugh, tilting his head down before he looks back you. “I’m not your personal fucking chef or your chauffeur.”

“Could be so fun, Jay.” Your eyes widen as you shake your head teasingly at him. “Um…” Your brows furrow. “Withdrawal sucks and I know you know that. So, um…if you want to go to Crane and try to get one or two inhalers so you can ween yourself off instead of cold turkey, I get it.” You nod your head. “Um…I mean, I can help if you want.”

Jason nearly does a double-take. “This whole time you’ve been telling me to get off of it and now you’re telling me you’ll help me take it?”

“I also don’t want you miserable.” You state. “I can like hide the inhalers for you and monitor when you get more.”

Jason pauses for a second and maybe it’s a bad idea. The drug makes him a skeleton of who he really is but this is torture, just sitting here. He’s not really sure how he’s supposed to deal with feeling like this for days or maybe weeks. He doesn’t know how long this withdrawal is going to last. All he knows is that it is fucking exhausting and painful. But, maybe if you can help, he won’t fall back into Crane’s hands. If you're willing to stay, he can try.

“Yeah, then I'll be fucking done with his psycho ass.” Jason clears his throat. “Feel like fucking shit.” Jason scoffs. “Meet back here then?”

You nod your head softly. “Yeah, I gotta get back and let Gar know what’s going on, I guess deal with Dick. Blah blah blah.” You laugh softly. “Just…text me if something happens.” You get to your feet. “Don’t do anything fucking stupid until I get back.”

“Don’t do anything fucking stupid while you’re gone.” Jason quips. “Ya know, like using the R blades to kill some fuck.”

You gain a cheeky smile. “Hey, you’re still wearing a bat symbol.” You point at him. “I’m just being an asshole, just like you. Learned from the best, bAbE.” You snark right back at him as you watch him gain that half-cocked, toothy smirk that always made you feel alive. “I’ll be back and try not to take it until I get back.” You nod once at him, keeping your own smirk before you turn on your heels and head for the exit.

You head back to the manor, knowing Dick and Kory will want to know where Jason and Crane are. If you were being honest, you're surprised Gar has been able to keep it a secret. You know it’s a very big ask for him not to tell Dick where or the password into the tablet which you had Gar bring you when he came by just to be sure Dick didn’t get into it while Gar was gone. Letting them know where Crane is, is all fine and well, the issue comes to Jason.

While you appreciate that Dick thinks you and Gar did a good job, there is still a bitterness hugging your chest about the whole thing. It shouldn’t have been up to you. You said you were done and you should have been able to be done but not when no one else is going to do something. You know you never would have taken a backseat anyway, not with Jason being kidnapped and held hostage, but it should have been an option. Jason was in trouble and it was Dick’s responsibility to do something about it. You don’t know where Dick’s head is with Jason now so the last thing you want is for him to know where Jason is hiding out and where Crane is. The last thing you want to do is even work side-by-side with him anymore and if you were a worse person, you’d just kill Crane now and get it all over with. Dick could deal with the cleanup if there is any to be had.

You stop right into your room as soon as you get to the manor. If you're going to help Jason and you're going to stand beside him, you want to be physically there. If you're ditching the Titans, then staying here isn’t really an option. So, you pack a bag with clothes and a charger for your phone before stopping by Jason’s room and picking a few of his favorite pieces of clothes and books. Once you have everything you need, you make your way to the Batcave to grab the case for your suit and extra knives and blades.

Dick, Kory, and Gar are all in the Batcave when you make your way down there. They’re surrounded by the Batcomputer, coming as no surprise to you. But, then they all turn around, eyes landing on you and you tug your backpack harder over your shoulder.

“Yes?” You ask softly.

“How is he?” Gar asks, hope in his eyes as he spins in his chair and gets to his feet.

“Going through withdrawal, looks like shit.” You huff before sucking in a breath. “Got him to eat a little bit though.” You offer a soft smile.

“Does that mean he’s done?” Dick questions.

“Done with the drug, Crane, or Red Hood? Because I’m thinking those are three different answers.” You quip, holding a bit of snark in your voice.”

“All three.” Dick’s voice grows defensive and you were fine last night. Suddenly, you hang out with Jason for one night and you have an attitude again? Seriously?

“No, yes, and probably not. Didn’t talk about Red Hood.”

“Wait, he’s gonna keep taking it?!” Gar practically yells in confusion.

“No.” You answer simply, shaking your head. “He’s just getting a few more inhalers so he can ween off it instead of cold turkey. Withdrawal is bad enough.” You look to Dick who looks like he’s about to have a stroke. “It was my idea if that helps.”

“What?!” Kory and Gar yell at the same time.

“Why would you encourage him to keep taking it?” Dick grabs the bridge of his nose and he's thinking you should have come with migraine medication when he found you in the alley.

“Because quitting some drugs cold turkey can kill you and I don’t know if Crane’s drug falls into that category or not and neither does he. I’d rather we not find out the hard way.” You answer simply, rolling your shoulders.

Gar finally notices the backpack and his heart starts to sink. He’s really hoping you're just bringing Jason some of his stuff and you're not leaving. They’ve already lost so many people, he doesn’t want someone else walking out on them. He knows it has to be really hard for you, but it’s hard for everyone.

“Why do you have a backpack?” Gar asks cautiously.

You tug it over your shoulder a bit more. “Um…I’m gonna stay with Jason for a bit.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “I promise, I was not leaving without telling you. I’m just trying to make sure he’s gonna be alright.” You roll your shoulders and a part of you almost offers to let him come with.

It could be just the three of you again but you would never put Gar in a position where he feels like he has to choose between you and Jason and the Titans. Inviting him, feels like it would put him in that position. And you have no idea what Jason would think of it anyway so you bite it back.

“Are you sure?” Gar asks.

You nod your head softly and you don’t want Gar in the middle of your annoyance with Dick. You know you’ll get over it eventually anyway. “Yeah, maybe I can get something out of him anyway, about if Crane is planning something big and if so, what.” You play it off, realizing this does give you that opportunity.

Dick nods once. “You could just tell us where he’s hiding out and where Crane is.” Dick states simply.

“No.” You shake your head as you start walking over towards the display case where your suit is still in the suitcase beside it.

Dick turns to face you, annoyance written on his face.”Excuse me?”

“I said no.” You say simply. “If you want to argue about it, argue with yourself cause I'm not anymore.” You shrug your shoulders.

Dick sucks in a breath and he can’t believe you’re really doing this again. “Fine, can we speak privately?” Dick asks.

“Come on, Gar.” Kory walks up to Gar, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go find Conner and Blackfire.” Kory offers a soft smile before they walk off.

You grab the suitcase, walking back towards Dick and then past him. You're ready to get out of here and you know this is going to cause more problems than it’s maybe worth. But, at the end of the day, you swore you’d protect Jason at all costs. Too many people left him exposed to the elements, and you're not going to do that. Dick had his chance to help, too and he left the both of you in the pouring rain and wonders why you’re feeling abandoned.

“I thought you were on our side.” Dick shakes his head. “What’s going on? Did something happen?” Dick asks, this time his voice sounding a little bit more concerned and you almost feel guilty.

“Dude, come on.” You scoff. “I’m on whatever side gets Jason home and safe. You should know that. Nothing happened I just….” You shake your head. “You could have fucking helped last night and you didn’t. For all we knew, Crane could have lost his shit and was gonna kill him.”

“But that didn’t happen.” Dick states. “You said last night he was just tied to a chair and you got him out of there. You and Gar worked together and you both did a good job last night. You didn’t need help.”

“It’s not about if I needed it!” You yell in desperation. “I fucking found his body! Do you really think I’m just fucking fine with that now that he’s alive? Do you really think I want to find him like that again? On my fucking own? That’s what you set me up to do last night. Yeah, he was 'just' tied to a chair, but I also know that fucks with your head, too. He’s your brother who needs fucking help but the only people who are willing at all costs are Gar and me. So, no.” You shake your head. “I’m not gonna tell you until I know he’s safe. You can figure it out and I’ll talk to him anyway. But, I’m not telling you.” You look to the right and then back to Dick. "Did you ever think that he just needs you to show up for him and not out of obligation? Bruce isn't here and this wasn't your fault like Deathstroke. Jason Todd is not hard to figure out."

Dick hangs his head for a second, realizing maybe you make a good point. You shouldn't have had to be the one to go alone. But, Dick didn't even think of the possibility that Jason could have been in real danger. He didn't think of what would happen if he was and you were the one to find him again. Dick's realizing maybe, just maybe, Crane might have had a point a few days ago. Maybe he did abandon Jason.

“I’m sorry.” Dick admits, catching you off-guard. “You’re right. It shouldn’t have been up to and I didn’t think about that.” Dick looks to the ground and back to you. “We’ve all been under a lot of stress lately and we’ve all been through a lot. This is hard for you. We all just want this to be over. I should have gone with you.”

"Thank...you?" You question, a little confused where this version of Dick is coming from. "Look, I think any risk is worth saving him. Last night, though, you made me think that isn't the case for you. So, I can't tell you in order to protect him. But, I'll try to get information about Crane anyway and tell you." You nod your head, swallowing your own pride. "I still want Crane dead and you want him brought in, so we're on the same side there." You start to walk towards the stairs. "Anything else or...can I go?" You ask, feeling, for some reason, obligated to.

"You can go." Dick lets out a sigh. "At least keep up with Gar, he's worried about the two of you." Dick warns, having to suck up his pride, too and put some trust into you this time. You offer him a closed-mouth smile before giving him a thumbs up and heading back upstairs.

Jason is making his way to the pump station where Crane is setting up for their next steps and his teeth grind while his heart races. He swears he has to be running a fever with his head feeling warm, heavy, and cloudy. He isn’t sweating but something about his skin feels like it’s almost been dunked into a pit of oil and it makes his skin crawl. There’s an ache in his back that isn’t painful but isn’t uncomfortable like it’s on the verge of a paralyzing cramp that just won’t come. His hands are starting to shake and the only thing he wants is the damn drug.

There’s a bit of worry in thinking about the drug though. He can’t be who he has been over the last week. He cannot go back to that but he is desperate and scared. Everything is in agony and the guilt is starting to weigh his feet down. The regret feels like cinderblocks resting on his heart. He’s scared he won’t be able to stop and he’s scared if he goes right back to the drug, Crane will get him right back under his wing. He finds himself thinking maybe that’s why you offered to help anyway. So, Crane couldn’t manipulate him anymore. If the only person he’s talking to is you while he’s high, then he doesn’t have too much to worry about. You're not going to manipulate him into killing innocent people. That’s all Crane. So, he sucks up his fear and walks right in, ready to nearly demand the drug from Crane.

Crane has a jackhammer in hand, trying to get through the concrete on the floor. Jason watches him with more aggravation starting to flood into his system. Jason walked in with a mission, sights set on getting one or two inhalers and that’s it. But, he’s standing here and all he wants to do is scream. The anger side of withdrawal is peaking through and he’s thinking he’s going to finally snap if Crane doesn’t hand over an inhaler. The jackhammer is making the headache worse and the shaking starts to intensify. He doesn’t really care about anything else as desperation starts to take over.

“I need more!” Jason yells over the sound of the jackhammer. He thinks his head might explode if Crane doesn’t knock it off.

Crane stops and rests the jackhammer on the ground before looking up to Jason. He gains a delighted smile as he walks closer to Jason, stretching his arms out to his sides.

“You’re back.” Crane says before gesturing his arms inward. “Come on, bring it in.”

The last thing Jason wants to do is hug him. This insane psychopath kidnapped him, drugged, and held him hostage. Jason’s ex-girlfriend had to rescue him. And Crane thinks Jason wants to not only be around him but hug him? He’s lost his fucking mind.

“I need another inhaler, Crane.” Jason demands, keeping his footing a few feet away from Crane.

“Well,” Crane starts as he plops his arms back to his sides. “You’re gonna have to cook it yourself. I’m fresh out.” Crane states as he goes to turn around.

Jason's heart plummets and he’s desperate for more. Crane just can’t be out. He’s the one that’s been having cooks make it. How the fuck is he out? He can’t just be out. So, Jason starts walking closer, spotting a large drum barrel.

“What about that?” Jason points to it.

“That…is too concentrated.” Crane states. “Deadly in its uncut form.”

Jason can feel himself growing more and more aggravated and panicked. It’s more than just the fear creeping in but instead, it’s the fear of withdrawal and the idea of never having the drug again. That’s what he’s starting to panic about. He knows he’s getting off of it. He has to if he wants to get some part of his life back. Crane isn’t stable and while he’s helped him this far, last night happened. Jason needs to get off the drug but he really doesn’t want to do it cold turkey. This is literal hell right now.

“This is a fuck show.” Jason lets out an annoyed sigh as he starts walking closer to Crane to pass by him and leave.

“Jay.” Crane states but it’s more in a warning tone. Jason wants to combust, the nickname sending the anger from the withdrawal into a spin. No one calls him that. “Jaydog.” Crane lifts his voice this time as Jason turns around to face him. “Take heart, my friend. We are just a few swift strokes away from the sweetest comeback the world has ever seen.” Crane leans over on the jackhammer, a menacing look in his eye. “I mean, they’re gonna make a biopic about us. How we met, our ups, our downs…”

“How the Titans wiped us out?” Jason cuts him off knowing the Titans are coming after them and Crane doesn’t seem to be much help.

You can say whatever you want but right now, he’s still being targeted by the Titans because he’s spent the last week targeting them. Jason doesn’t think for a second he can come back from that. That’s why you're suddenly with him through this. A barrier against the Titans.

“Do you remember why we’re here?” Crane asks.

“The details are hazy, Crane. You zombified me, remember that?” Jason quips back and that part is biting at the back of his head.

Crane didn’t have to do it but he did it anyway. He drugged him, held him hostage, then kidnapped him and brought him here. He didn’t even offer a good explanation. But, Jason falls back on him stealing the inhalers from Crane and maybe he deserved some part of it.

“I do remember.” Crane states simply as he furrows his brows. “Well, um, quick refresher course. So, this pump station is perched directly above Courtland Valve station, which controls all of the water supply for all of Gotham. I take my little friends there and I dump it into the water supply and…” Crane states as he fires up the jackhammer again but as he does, he loses control and it goes sputtering to the floor.

Jason bursts out laughing, enjoying the look of shock on Crane’s face but his laughter starts to die down when Crane also starts laughing. Something about the look he gives Jason and the way he laughs, it almost reminds of him Dr. Light when Jason had him pinned. When Deathstroke held a sword to your face. And suddenly, he’s worried again.

“You think that’s funny?” Crane asks through his laughter. “Just wait until you see what we’re gonna do to Gotham when we’re done here.” Crane says as he circles around Jason, standing behind him and wrapping an arm around his neck as he chuckles. “Gotham is going to destroy itself.” Crane boasts as he walks back over to his place by the jackhammer. “House by house, family by family.” Crane laughs and Jason doesn’t want that.

It was never supposed to be about destroying Gotham. It was about protecting Gotham. Doing the things Bruce would never do and couldn’t do and refused to do. It was about actually taking care of the people in the city who aren’t on Bruce’s radar, the people who get left behind by the GCPD. It was supposed to be about them, not this. This isn’t what Jason wanted to do.

“This plan is a fucking joke, Crane.” Jason states. “And so are you.”

“Me?” Crane questions and Jason thinks he might sound a little hurt. “But I reached over to the other side, dragged you back to the living…” Crane states and you were the one who said Crane was using him. Maybe you're right.

Up until this moment, Jason thought that couldn’t be true. Why would Crane use him? Crane’s been telling him this whole time he cares about him and he wants to help him in the way Bruce and Dick refused to help and couldn’t help. They could be a team, better than Batman. But, if Crane wasn’t really using him, why would he bring up bringing him back from the dead? Which Jason never fucking asked for anyway.

“So you could use me.” Jason states a sort of venom in his voice.

“Yes, so I could use you.” Crane answers nonchalantly as if Jason should have known the answer.

And Jason’s heart sinks further. It was never about helping him. It was about helping Crane help himself. You were the one who was right this time. Crane has been using him this whole time. Jason’s been a pawn in his game and it stings. It’s the same story over and over. Jason gives him all to someone and something and it all ends up backfiring, they use him and throw him away like he’s trash. Just like this.

“Life is transactional, my dear boy.” Crane states. “Well, I gave you life. You gave me secrets about Batman and Dick Grayson and the girlfriend, er, ex-girlfriend? And uh, what was his name? Hank?”

Jason has had it. Today is not the day to mess with him and Crane bringing up him betraying everyone for him is setting him off. It never should have had to be transactional. Yes, Jason should have known better. He knew the exchange was secrets for the formula. It was the drug and then they’d work together. Jason knew that part of it but he didn’t think his life was a part of that transaction. He doesn’t want his damn life to be transactional. He doesn’t want to sell himself for a drug and secrets and the destruction of Gotham and the Titans. That’s not who he is and that’s not who he wants to be. On top of that, Jason’s sick and tired of Crane thinking he can just bring up his one line and get off. You were always supposed to be off limits anyway and everything is sending Jason right over the edge.

Jason grabs Crane by the collar and spins them around, slamming Crane’s back against a few boxes as he holds him there. He’s done working with Crane and letting Crane think he’s the one running the show. Jason is not going to be his pawn anymore. If he wants to take down Gotham, that’s on him. Not Jason.

“I’m done telling secrets!” Jason yells, jaw clenched and knuckles turning white. “Done being fucking used!” Jason yells as he punches Crane in the face twice and then lets him go.

Crane looks up at him, something menacing and bored in his eyes. “You done?” He asks as he spits blood onto the ground.

“Almost.” Jason states plainly. “Bring her up again and I’ll fucking kill you.” Jason says harshly, his jaw squaring and a burning hatred washing over his usually bright eyes. Crane opens his mouth to say something but Jason moves forward and uses most of his strength to take another hit to Crane’s face, this time the hit is enough to knock him unconscious. “Now, I’m done.” Jason says as he leaves Crane on the ground and heads out, desperate to find something that’s going to take the edge off of everything that’s clouding him right now.

He’s supposed to meet back up with you, but at this point, he’s not sure he can stomach it. In the moment, it seemed fine. It was nice not to be alone and to not feel so alone. But, right now, it’s as if he swears it’s the only thing he really deserves with the withdrawal kicking in full force. You will try to make it all better and he knows for a fact he doesn’t deserve for it to be better again. He needs to figure out what he’s going to do and how. How he’s going to come back from everything. You just said he had to try but he doesn’t know how to try. What he’s become goes against everything that’s been engrained into him over the last few years.

Bruce swore killing was wrong and using excessive force was wrong. But, now Jason is the one with guns killing people and decapitating them just for extra threatening measure. Maybe he didn’t always agree with Bruce’s point of view but that’s what a hero, a vigilante, Robin was supposed to do. Not kill. Not use excessive force. There was one way and one way only. Jason was murdered anyway and he thinks maybe, this isn’t all wrong because it is for the greater good of Gotham. But, it haunts him anyway because of how he got here, what led him here. He was murdered and Bruce couldn’t kill the Joker for him and his death was preventable. His death was preventable in every way but he died anyway. He’s the one left with those physical and mental scars, not Bruce.

Jason thinks it’s different when death happens to you. But, Jason didn’t go after Two-Face. He didn’t go after Mr. Freeze or Penguin or Bane or the Riddler. Jason went after the drug side because of Crane. Maybe he would have done it anyway, but it was because of Crane so Crane could run his own drugs without them getting in the way. It wasn’t about protecting people. It was about distribution. So, he thinks about his younger self. The younger self that took care of his mom and didn’t entirely hate his dad for everything. And he wonders how much his younger self would hate who he’s become.

His younger self would hate the killing and the drugs and the betrayal. He’d hate turning from a hero to a villain and he’d hate how he went and fucked up such a good thing with so many people. Sure, the Titans weren’t always nice or understanding, but they had smoothed things out. And things did feel okay with them. And he was safe and warm and healthy and he had someone, he had people, who cared about him and tried their best to take care of him, something his younger self would have loved to have even if he never admitted it. Jason could have had it all but it just wasn’t enough. He was selfish and entitled and impatient, just like Dick and Bruce said. He was hard-headed and stubborn. It got him killed and it got him put in this position and he thinks his younger self might think he were better off staying dead.

Maybe he would be.

So, he digs out of his phone and sends a quick text to you. And then he waits.

An hour later, Jason sees you walking towards him as snow starts to fall from the gloomy sky. He swallows the lump in his throat as you get closer. You offer him a soft smile, hands dug deep into your pocket once you close the distance between you.

“You know it’s freezing, right?” You quip, seeing your breath in the space between you.

He didn't say much in the text. It was just that he didn't want to sit around the hideout and he needed to be out. He followed that text asking if you'd want to walk with him for a while.

“Yeah, and I’m still fucking sweating.” Jason rolls his shoulders, shaking his head.

“Ew.” You laugh softly. Jason’s eyes narrow at you as you shrug, a gentle smile on your lips. “Thanks for texting me.” You nod your head once.

If you were being honest, you're surprised he did. A very large part of you expected him to not come back to his hideout and avoid you. You really would understand if he did at this point. It has to be really difficult for him, especially coming down from both the anti-fear drug and whatever Crane gave him last night. But, you're really glad he texted anyway.

Jason lets out a breath, a cloud leaving his lips from the cold air. “Thanks for coming.” Jason nods.

“What’d Crane say?” You ask hesitantly, seeing the brown paper bag in his right hand.

“That he’s fresh out.” Jason scoffs. “Load of shit, obviously.”

“What a piece of shit.” You scoff right back. “He fucking sucks.” You roll your eyes, split between worried something bad is going to come from cold turkey withdrawal and relieved the risk of him falling back into Crane's hands is gone.

“Yeah.” Jason nods his head in agreement before the two of you start walking with no destination in mind.

“He say anything else?” You ask.

Jason bites back the pain in his chest and the burning of his eyes with your words. It’s a harsh reminder that he was never brought back because he was wanted. He wasn’t brought back because he was loved and cared about. He was brought back to be used and it was all always conditional. There were conditions to his life. His own breath was traded for secrets and death and betrayal. How can he live knowing his life is now tainted with innocent blood?

“Yeah.” Jason gets a distant look in his eyes as he brings the covered bottle to his lips and takes a drink.

“Which was…?” You ask softly, almost afraid of what Crane could have said.

“That he was using me the whole time.” Jason spits the words out and you swear you can see his eyes start to water against the city streetlights. “You were right.”

“For the record, I really wish I weren’t.” You scoff. “What? He just he was using you…just like that?” You question and you know Crane is a prick and he uses people. But, Jason really believed in him and that's the part that hurts.

“Pretty much.” Jason shakes his head, sucking in a deep breath as if the cold air biting his vocal cords will make it easier to talk. “Bringing me back was transactional.” Jason’s voice goes quiet and you think you heard his heart break.

You knew before, but this is further confirmation that Jonathan Crane is a monster. You're looking at Jason Todd who always just wanted to be enough and just wanted to be loved and Crane weaponized that just like Bruce. But worse. You knew Crane didn’t bring Jason back from the dead out of the kindness of his own heart but you're furious and devastated to be right. You're pissed that he would even tell Jason that.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You mutter, looking forward which earns you an immediate glance from Jason.

“Why? He didn’t do anything.” Jason nearly mocks the very idea.

“Because he just told you that the reason you’re alive is because he needed something from you.” You bite back, a venom and fury in your voice as you look at Jason. “That’s fucked up. I don’t care if it’s true. You don’t tell someone that. And I wanna kill him anyway for everything he’s done to you. But, that’s a good enough reason to me.” The anger in your voice actually surprises Jason. Of course, he's hurt by the ordeal, but he's watching you grow more and more angry over it. He's never had someone be like over something someone else did to him.

“I don’t know why it even fucking matters anymore. I did all of this shit for him.” Jason huffs taking another drink. “How it always is anyway, right?” Jason lets out a hollowed chuckle. “Like I told you, people always want something in exchange for something else.” Jason mutters and he thinks Crane has a point. Life is transactional, he just wishes his literal life wasn’t.

You stop walking, Jason walking a few feet in front of you. You hadn’t thought about that conversation in months. It was the first time you ever promised him something. You promised you’d never make a promise to him you couldn’t keep and you’d never make one just to get something from him. Then he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about the boot print bruise on your back. Things did not seem so simple then, but they sure as shit do now. And your heart starts to break even more, realizing that he really, truly trusted Crane. You have no idea why but he did. That’s not for you to judge but he trusted him and Crane only brought him back because he needed something from him. He is just another person that has made Jason Todd feel like there is some sort of condition to his love. And that’s just not fair.

“What?” Jason asks, turning around to look at you.

“You know I love you still, right?” You ask quietly.

Jason shakes his head in confusion, eyes darting up the sky and then back to you. He isn’t sure exactly how to respond to the question. You told him you do. That’s not the same as him believing you though. It’s hard for him to feel like anyone actually loves him right about now. He doesn’t even like himself right now. And with everything Crane just said to him, he’s thinking that maybe you're just saying it so Jason doesn’t walk onto a roof.

“Jay?” You ask quietly. “You know that, right?” Your eyes scan over his face but you don’t see any sign of him acknowledging the question. “Okay, well, I still love you.” You nod your head with confidence. “And if I would have known how to bring you back, I would have done it. Because I love you and I care about you and you deserve to live.” You close the distance between you. "And...you don't owe me shit for it, either. I don't expect anything from you. It's not conditional or transactional for me, okay?"

The last thing you want is for Jason to feel like he's unloved. It's messy as fuck right now and he has a lot to make up for but he's loved anyway. Crane loves to manipulate people and make them feel like they're alone. You can't imagine what the fuck telling Jason he wasn't even wanted back would do but you have to believe Crane had a fucking purpose. So, it doesn't matter where you and Jason stand or what's left of you. You will stand here in the freezing cold all night with him and tell him you love him. Because on days when you felt unloved and unlovable, you had Jason who always countered those thoughts without ever knowing. So, you will always do the same. He deserves it.

Jason’s breath starts to shake as he looks down at you and his chest hurts. He thinks someone might as well be reaching through his ribs and squeezing his own heart until it explodes. You're the only one that has ever made him feel wanted and loved without conditions.

“After everything?” Jason almost scoffs but he can’t quite bring himself to. You look desperate. “Fucking why?” The question almost comes out as a plea.

“Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” You nod your head once and this is different than the first time you said it.

The first time was on accident and you were very clearly terrified. It was something you never intended to ever tell him but it slipped out in a fit of desperation so he’d stop beating himself up. This time though, it is said with confidence and reassurance as if the words were almost meant to leave your lips for only him. And it starts to defrost Jason’s heart, the pain easing in his chest because he knows you mean it.

Jason rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closing and it’s like it's easier to breathe again. He wants to kiss you again. It’s never easy for him to say what he thinks or what he feels but he’s always been able to show it with you. This time though, that is no longer his place. It doesn’t matter that you love him because you are broken up. He can’t overstep that line even if he wants to. The most he can do is rest his forehead against yours and that’s always been just enough.

A smile pulls at your lips before you wrap your arms around his shoulders, moving your head to rest in the crook of his neck. Jason’s hands come to your hips and suddenly, it’s like the first day of spring. The air isn’t suffocating or painful. It is fresh and clean, smooth and soft. It’s easy to breathe again and the suffocating coldness lifts from your chests. All it is is warm and welcoming. Just like home.

“Thank you for coming.” Jason mutters into your neck.

“You and me.” You mutter right back, Jason’s hands squeezing around you just a little tighter.

You pull away first, a loving smile on your lips and for just a second as you rest your hand on his cheek, you almost forget you ended things. This, right now, feels like it did before he died. And you almost forget and you almost kiss him to make it all not so heavy. But, it’s just a second and then you remember which means that isn’t your place anymore and you don’t know if it ever will be. So, you drop your hand, the smile falling slightly. You look to your left, sucking a breath but then your brows furrow.

“Is that Dick?” You question, bursting the bubble between the two of you.

Jason turns, following your stare. “Fuck.” Jason groans just as Dick seems to spot the two of you, too because he lifts the face shield of his helmet.

“We should get out of here.” You reach down for Jason’s free hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

“Yeah, fuck that.” Jason nods quickly in agreement as the two of you start to walk away but before you could get far, Dick tries to run the red light after you only to get hit by a car going through the green.

You and Jason look between each other before you both let out a breath and start your walk over to Dick to see if he’s okay. You both walk over as Dick rolls over to face you. You roll your eyes and grab your phone from your pocket to call an ambulance while Jason looks down at him. He finds the whole thing a little ironic. Dick is on the ground, clearly out of it and hurt and he could kill him right now. He’s been trying for a week to kill Dick and now is the perfect opportunity but the only reason he’s even thinking about it is because of the irony. He doesn’t even really want Dick dead. Not when he’s clean.

You kneel down, putting a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Ambulance is on the way, I texted Kory and Gar to let them know. You’re an idiot.” You nod at him.

“What…?” Dick asks, looking from you to Jason and then back to you. Dick knows he has a concussion but he’s lost on why Jason is just standing in front of him and why you don’t even seem mildly concerned about what’s going on. What the hell is going on? “Jason?”

You look behind you and Jason’s heart sinks. “Yeah?” You question, looking back to Dick. “You ran into oncoming traffic.” You state sternly as you hear sirens starting to approach. You can see the lights just down the street. “Don’t do anything drastic like die on the way to hospital.” You say softly before you get back to your feet and walk back to Jason. “Let’s go.”

“What? You’re gonna leave him like that?” Jason asks with surprise, that’s unlike you.

“The ambulance is right there.” You point to the flashing lights. “He’ll be fine.” You nod your head once, reaching down for Jason’s hand once more, this time Jason takes it carefully before the two of you head off in the opposite direction.

The two of you get back to Jason's hideout, not having said much to each other on the cold walk over. You both convince yourselves it was all out of self-preservation rather than self-destruction. You follow Jason to the room he led you to last night where he plops down on the mattress still laid out on the floor.

Something about it feels weird because feelings are out in the open unlike before. They were said last time and something came from it but this time, they're words hanging in the air, following them back. Jason doesn't know what to say anymore and you think you've exposed yourself too much again. Nothing can happen between you now, not with everything going on and even if you both want something happen, is that for the best?

It's like something should be happening in the space between you but nothing does because it's all been said and done before. Neither of you quite know where you should stand or where you should lay your hearts to rest. So, it feels weird and it's quiet, both of which are things neither of you like very much between each other.

You shift on your heels, looking around the room. "I, uh, I brought you some more clothes and...stuff." You say softly, nodding towards your backpack near the dresser. You had dropped it off earlier when you were supposed to meet back here.

"Oh, uh, yeah no thank you." Jason nods his head at you and the awkwardness makes him want to chew his own arm off.

"You're welcome." You suck in a breath, looking around the room some more. "Not quite Wayne Manor, huh?" You ask, looking back to Jason.

"It's a roof." Jason shrugs a shoulder casually.

He should have said it back and he knows he should have. But, the words stick to the back of his throat, holding his vocal cords captive. While he gets it, he is still hurt by you leaving him. He knows he deserves it and you had every right to. You should still be gone. He gets it. But, he can still hear the heartbroken laugh you let out echoing in his head and the words that followed and it fucking hurts. He's forgiven you already but...the pain is there anyway. Jason knows he'll get over it but he isn't there yet so the words choke his vocal chords and the air is stiff and awkward between you.

"Yeah." You nod your head before you look back at him. You cannot take this anymore. It has almost never been awkward between you and you can't stand it. The whole thing would be easier if it were easier to just talk about everything. But, that seems too heavy right about now. So, you walk over to your backpack, plucking it from the ground. You walk in front of Jason and crouch down, unzipping your backpack before you pull out a book. "I thought it might help." You hand it over, your hands shaking slightly.

A soft smile starts to pull at Jason's lips as he takes the book from you. "Raided my whole room, huh?"

You grin, mostly to yourself. "Yeah, kind of." You laugh softly. "Brought these, too." You smile widely, pulling out a few more books and handing them over.

Jason looks over his favorite books, you picking up Pride and Prejudice and Frankenstein for him of course, but the pick of The Fellowship of the Ring does not go unnoticed. Jason really likes it, sure, but there are other books he's read more around you. He almost laughs at you grabbing this one. And something about the whole thing, makes him feel loved again.

He looks back to you and your eyes are bright just as they always were around him and your smile is turning into something cheeky, as if you know you've just won something Jason isn't aware of. You say loving him is easy and he always finds it so hard to believe, especially right now. But, he looks over the cover of the books and then back to you, and it really is just that easy to you. And while you may need to talk eventually and this whole thing is fucked up and messy, maybe some sort of feeling of how it used to be, would be nice.

He always felt loving you was the easiest thing he'd ever done, too.

So, he smirks back at you.

"You don't have to try so damn hard." Jason quips. "Fucking try-hard."

Your jaw drops as you let out a laugh. "Fuck you! Look who's talking! You're the biggest fucking try-hard I ever met!"

"Bullshit!" Jason laughs. "You were the one who told me with Deathstroke that I wasn't trying hard enough!" Jason fires right back, hoping he can get you to keep laughing. He's really missed your laugh.

You burst into a fit of laughter, almost forgetting about that comment he made. You told him he was the one that needed to get laid and he told you he'd been trying. The comment was never brought up again. Partially because Jason was dropped fifteen stories and partially because it wasn't worth the risk of bringing up if it was a serious comment or not. But, you find the whole thing funny now.

"Well, it was true!" You bite back. "You were an asshole half the damn time!" You know, asshole or not, all Jason had to do was ask and you would have gotten right into bed with him without a second thought. Not that you will ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that though.

"Playing the long game, babe." Jason defends his stance, a smirk dancing over his face as he gestures his hand out to the side.

"I'd fucking say!" You let out a chortle.

"Worked for a while, didn't it?" Jason says and it almost grows sour on his tongue but that's not how he meant the comment. "I mean, had you practically begging a few times." The smirk switches into something sinister and teasing. The confidence radiates off him just like it always did before and you think you could go back and forth like this all night and maybe it would fix everything.

You feel heat start to rise to your cheeks. "Okay listen."

Jason bursts into a fit of laughter and you think it's still the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "Uh-huh. I'm listening, babe. All fucking ears." Jason nods his head quickly, knitting his brows together but the smirk is practically glued to his face as if he knows he's just won.

"Fuck you." You nod your head quickly, shrugging your shoulders. "I fucking won! Remember that? I do so everything else, bullshit. I won." You cross your arms over your chest.

Jason's smile starts to soft and tender as he nods his head. "Yeah, guess you did." He says softly.

This feels normal. It feels like it did before, just joking. Sure, being together was better because you could joke and know something else was on the other end of it. The joking as friends was always just fun and that's how this feels again. Fun. And warm. It doesn't feel so heavy at the moment and neither of you feel so alone and you can see it in the way he looks back to the books. You can hear it between the lines of his words because Jason Todd doesn't take losing lightly. You don't particularly want this moment to end. Instead, you want to push it a little bit. Letting him know silently that if even a small part of him is willing, maybe there's hope to get back to how you were before.

"Exactly." You match the softness of his voice. "And you know what, I bet I could get you to cave again." You hold your head with confidence.

Jason pauses for a second, narrowing his eyes at you, unsure if this is a trick. "You really sure about that?" Jason challenges, taking the bait as he leans forward towards you slightly. He, for one, is not going to risk this getting heavy again and you always had a habit of backing out when he actually challenged you.

It's not just you who's been craving this. He has, too. Your game always made him feel wanted and loved and cared for, even before he realized it. That's part of what made it fun for him. And maybe it's too soon to jump into it and maybe you have other things you need to sort out first, but that's not a tonight problem. Tonight's problem is finding a way to deal with the withdrawal and self-hatred burying itself into his bones. Tonight is just about existing with each other for the first time since he's been brought back.

You meet Jason right in the middle, closing most of the distance between you. "Positive." You nod just once.

Jason glances to your lips and then back to you. "I'll take that bet."

You shake your head as a soft laugh escapes your lips. "Alright, Jay. Bet's a bet." You roll your eyes, sticking out your hand and Jason shakes it. "I will never let you win because you will be surely insufferable."

Jason lets out a booming laugh. "Absolutely. I'll never let you live it down. Glad you understand that."

"Shut the fuck up." You lean back on your hands as you roll your eyes. You pause, watching him take a drink from the bottle he's been nursing. He doesn't look too uncomfortable now and the awkwardness has evaporated into ease and comfort. "Hey, Jay?" Sam calls softly.

"You told me to shut the fuck up." Jason quips, not missing a single beat.

"Insufferable." You repeat casually as you nod your head quickly.

"What?" Jason asks softly.

"Wanna read to me?" You ask as hesitance starts to take over your voice. Jason's smile turns soft as he looks to the bottle in his hand and then back to you. He knows he will always read to you whenever you ask. "I mean, if you're up for it. I know you said you feel like shit. I can...try to read to you instead, if you want."

Jason almost forgot he felt like shit. You have always known exactly what to do to distract him from everything horrible going on. It makes him feel even worse over the whole ordeal because while a distraction isn't always the best coping mechanism, it would have been better than everything else he ever did. You always knew how to make the world not feel so heavy and you do it even now and Jason doesn't even think you realize you do it. You just do as if it's in your nature. And he feels better. Somehow.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head towards the bed as he puts the bottle off to the side before grabbing one of the books. He slides himself back until his back hits the cool wall.

"Really?" You ask with hope in your eyes.

"I owe you, yeah. I can read to you." Jason nods his head once before he opens the book, trying to play off how fast his heart is starting to race.

You smile widely before you climb onto the bed with him, sitting right next to him on your knees. You hesitate for a second because it's not like it was before. Before, you were friends. You were at least friends. And maybe you're friends now, but you're also exes and that feels like it makes it complicated. Last night, Jason was high and devasted. That was different than this. This suddenly feels personal and vulnerable again and you aren't sure you're supposed to be here like this. Not when you broke him.

"You gonna just sit like that or?" Jason questions, a tint of hope in his words because he wants you closer, he's just not sure if that's too invasive now. So, he plays it off just as he's always done as if that's a signal to you that it's okay because you always understood that part of him. "Not gonna fucking bite you." Jason quips, a tint of sarcasm in his voice. "That's your thing."

You shake your head, doing a double take. "Um, last time I checked, you were into it." You blink at him just as Jason looks back to you. He gains a shit-eating grin, shrugging his shoulder slightly. "Yeah, exactly. And you fucking branded me once, remember that?" You point out the time Jason littered you in hickies.

Jason's head hits the wall behind him as he lets out a booming laugh, the sound reverberating off the walls. His nose scrunches and you think he's never looked more at peace right now. It's as if he is so proud of himself.

"Yeah, and you were into it, too." Jason lets out a scoff and you want to both kiss and bite the smirk off his face.

Jason looks back to you and you're sitting close, faces just inches from each other. You're looking at with him the fake scowl you always did when you knew you wouldn't have any type of comeback and you'd have to cave and tell him to go fuck himself. But, then Jason sees the corner of your mouth twitch into something cheeky and taunting. And he swears he has never been so captivated by someone before.

"Yeah, I was." You nod your head, throwing Jason the bone as you laugh.

"Fucking exactly." Jason's voice is low this time, brows pulling together.

You glance to his lips and you almost just bite the damn bullet. But, that might ruin what you're doing right now, so you roll your eyes. "Fuck you." Sam scoffs as Jason gains his signature triumphant grin.

"Time and place, babe." Jason beams right back at you.

"Insufferable." You repeat as a warm smile replaces the smirk. "Okay," You suck in a breath. "So, we lay like we always did before?" You ask, chewing the inside of your cheek as your eyes widen slightly with hope.

It hurts a little bit that you're hesitant and Jason knows that's on him. You've never been hesitant in showing him physical affection. Even the first night he read to you, the only reason you stood there is because you were confused as to what Jason was doing. But, the second he asked you to sit, sarcastically with a bite in his voice, you went right to him and cuddled into his side. It has always been that easy and that simple. It should be that way, still. Regardless of everything that's happening. You both can keep that part of you and him.

So, he extends his arm.

"You don't have to ask." Jason states simply and casually because it should always be that simple.

"I just don't want to overstep." You mutter softly, dodging his eyes.

"You can't overstep." Jason almost whispers right back, no sarcasm or bite or snark in his tone.

Things might be hard and Jason might want to push and run and scream and break. He might feel far too exposed again and scared of getting hurt again and scared of everything, but you're the one person who can never overstep. You can do whatever you want and say whatever you want and ask whatever you want.

You give him this genuine and joyful smile as your face softens. "You can't either." You nod your head softly. You scoot down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, placing your arm over his stomach and you feel him relax right under you. He still feels warm and safe, just as he did before.

Once you're comfortable against him, Jason swears this is the safest he has felt since coming back. It is the most comfortable he has felt. He doesn't remember what it was like last night but tonight, he knows he can just exist with you. There are no obligations to anyone or anything. And relief fills his blood, his entire body falling into a state of relaxation and he hadn't even realized he hasn't relaxed at all since coming back. Maybe this is what you both really need. Just one night of normalcy for you both and comfort and safety. Just him and you.

"Thanks again for coming." Jason whispers above your head.

"Always." You whisper right back, running your thumb along the fabric of his hoodie covering his torso. Jason sucks in a breath, running his hand along your hoodie-covered shoulder before Jason's voice about Bilbo's birthday starts to fill the room.

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beardedjoel · 11 months

Text

closer | part six

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au.

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: joel pays you a late night visit after a day of flirty texting. 6.5k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), soft!dom joel, oral (m receiving), size kink (big dick miller you know how it is), hand grinding,/riding, dirty talk, praise kink, reader is a menace this chapter

You wake up still feeling like you’re living in some kind of a dream the next morning. Two weeks ago you would have laughed at the concept of Joel fucking Miller eating you out until you begged him to stop, yet here you are, on the other side of that exact experience from last night. Despite the fact that you feel a bit embarrassed remembering your hazy, sleepy begging to stay over his house, you feel good about the whole thing. Amazing, actually. You start to flush all over again when the image of him, lifting his face from between your legs and looking right into your eyes flashes through your mind. You let out a contented sigh, sliding yourself out of bed to get ready for the day.

It’s a Friday, and normally your parents would be working but they both took a day off for a doctor’s appointment for your dad and to get some major unpacking done, which you’re roped into, of course, as part of your deal with staying here.

You shower and change into some loose, comfortable clothing and as you’re opening the door, you see a small piece of paper taped to it on the outside. You pull it off, tilting your head to the side with curiosity as you unfold it.

Won’t be around tonight - work outing. Text me something to let me know you’re thinking of me

Joel

He’d written his phone number underneath his name, and you smile giddily at this little piece of him you’re holding right now. You study the handwriting, just admiring the boyish, sloppy strokes of the pen and the way he writes his own name. You quickly punch the number into your phone and save it, after debating what to even put for his contact name. Putting down Joel Miller seems so… formal for a guy who had his tongue inside of you last night, so you just settle on ‘Joel’.

You look forward to thinking of the perfect text to send him, but luckily you have this relatively busy day ahead of you to keep your mind off the fact that you won’t be seeing Joel tonight. You don’t want to end up seeming too desperate anyways, texting him the second you get his number.

Your parents are in the kitchen, your dad hovering near your mom on crutches as she’s cooking. He’s trying so hard to be helpful despite barely being able to get around right now, but you smile watching him add some salt and pepper to the eggs on the stove to seem productive. They both turn when they hear you opening the sliding glass door.

“Good morning!” you mom and dad call in unison, sounding suspiciously chipper for the busy day they have ahead of them.

“Morning,” you reply, stifling a yawn. “What can I get started on?” you ask.

“You don’t want to eat? We made plenty,” your dad says.

“Sure,” you shrug, getting plates and silverware out before making yourself a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. You sit down, and your parents join you a few moments later. You’re too busy digging into your food to notice the look they’re both giving you at first. You glance up, then do a double take because you notice both of their faces, a mixture of stunned, amused, and concerned. You stop chewing, darting your eyes around, feeling like you’re missing something.

“Where the hell did that come from?” your mom says, her tone uncharacteristically demanding for her.

“Wh- where did what come from?” you ask, furrowing your brow feeling genuinely confused.

You see it in what feels like slow motion, your mom reaching up to her own neck to indicate, and you choke a little on your food as your cheeks go completely red and your stomach bottoms out. You hadn’t even thought about trying to cover up all the marks Joel had left on you - you’ve never really had many hickeys before. You’d just rolled out of bed and barely even noticed yourself in the mirror this morning, and now you wish you could go back in time to do that so you could avoid feeling like you’re going to die of embarrassment.

“Uh…” your throat makes a strained sound, pushing air out but no words come. “I - uh, oh my god,” you say, giving up and hiding your face in your hands. You simply hear both of your parents cracking up now, and a bit of relief sweeps through you. You know they are pretty open minded, but you don’t want to admit the whole truth to them about Joel or discuss anything remotely having to do with your sex life.

“I may have gone out… at night… met some people,”’ you lie, miserably trying to make up a story on the spot as you peek out at them from behind you hands. “It’s really nothing, I swear.”

Your parents are both smiling at you with an intrigued expression. “As long as you’re being safe,” your dad comments, and you feel like passing out again.

“God… dad, I know,” you reply, giving him a look of pained disgust.

“Alright, alright, it’s not our business,” your mom jumps in. “Just gave us a surprise, those are quite the marks you’ve got there...” Your mom leans a little closer to inspect them and you lean back, trying to swat her away.

“Okay, that’s enough breakfast for me! I’m going to get started on… something. Literally anything that is not in this room right now,” you ramble, getting up from the table and clearing your plate before heading to the living room, where you can hear your parents still laughing with each other over your misfortune. You roll your eyes and pull out your phone, opening a new message.

9:13am

You: Hi

Joel: About time you reached out. I was worried you weren’t going to

You: My parents accidentally saw all of my hickeys… thanks a lot

Joel: Bad to say I’m laughing right now?

You: It’s not funny!!! I’m mortified within an inch of my life. I had to make up some story about where I got them

Joel: Sorry baby, but it is funny. Was it at least worth it?

You: Absolutely worth every bit of embarrassment I’m feeling right now

Joel: Thought so ;)

You decide to get on with your morning, your mom joining in and then enlisting you to help them unpack their book room. There’s only two bedrooms in this house and an entire one is being dedicated to all their bookshelves and a reading nook. You do think it’s rather cute, how much your parents love to read together, despite them liking completely different genres.

Your mom has a whole system mapped out for organizing the books, and you’re trying your best to follow it, despite not understanding the way that woman’s mind works sometimes. She keeps eyeing you the entire time, and you can tell it’s not to check that you’re following her system - she wants to say something.

“Alright, out with it,” you say, rolling your eyes a little. You’re sitting on the floor, surrounded by books, organizing the piles while your mom places them on the shelves just right.

“Nothing, nothing,” she throws her hands up. “You’ve just surprised me today, that’s all. I just didn’t realize you were… going out.”

“It was just once or twice, I wanted to see if I could meet any people in Austin.” You shrug, and you realize now how your comment sounds when your mom lifts her eyebrows as if to say you sure did meet some people, judging by your neck.

“Not meet people like that. I’m not even trying to date anyone right now. Just met someone and we had a quick… thing. Please, can we stop talking about this forever?” You stop moving books and rub your eyes, desperately hoping she’ll drop it. You don’t like lying about everything with Joel, but you two haven’t even established anything about anything when it comes to your relationship. There’s no need to drag your parents or anyone else into it right now.

“Alright, fine, fine,” your mom concedes, and you sigh in relief. “I’m glad you’re trying to get out there more. Just making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay, I promise,” you reply, and it feels good to finally be saying one true thing to her today. You’re more than okay - you’ve felt like you’re floating through these last two days, knowing what’s waiting for you in the evenings now. Joel.

You two work for another hour, thankfully talking about things that aren’t related to your sexual escapades, but your mom does bring up asking Joel to do a consultation on some things at the house and you cringe, but you don’t have any good reason to tell her not to do it. After all, she was completely enamored with the way he’d helped you fix the gate and kitchen cabinet, so it was the perfect setup for her. You can’t bear the thought of him tearing out walls, or fixing bathroom tiles, or whatever the hell it is your parents have planned, while you four are all in the same house. You’d have to go into hiding, you think, to avoid feeling like a total fraud around them. How would you be able to hold back the absolute ‘fuck me’ eyes you know you have around him? You’re beyond grateful when your mom leaves for your dad’s doctor’s appointment and you don’t have to tiptoe around subjects anymore.

Your phone buzzes while you’re eating lunch, still surrounded by the books that have yet to be shelved, and you check in, seeing that Joel has reached out to you again.

12:37pm

Joel: Checking in to see if you’re still dying from embarrassment?

You: It’s literally going to haunt me forever. At least I stayed busy with unpacking, but I think my mom is going to ask you to fix stuff in the house now because you were a little too generous before

Joel: Is that what you call what we did last night?

You: Too generous… sounds about right…

Joel: Not generous enough, if you ask me

Joel: Happy to help if she needs it, but stay out of the room so they don’t see me checking out your ass and ask too many questions

You: Okay now who’s the insatiable one?

Joel: Still you

You: I am thinking about you a lot today…

Joel: Thinking what about me?

You: You know what!

Joel: Humor me

You chuckle, biting your lip as you think for a moment about your response before quickly getting back to typing on your phone.

You: Thinking about last night and the night before

You: About your hard cock

You: Your fingers inside of me, making me come like crazy

You’re midway through typing your next message in this horny ambush when Joel texts back.

Joel: Woah woah, trying to work here

You: You tease, you asked!

Joel: Still glad I did

Joel: But it makes me sorry we can’t see each other tonight. I’ll probably be back late

You: That’s okay, have fun :)

Joel: Not sure I can now, I’ll just be thinking about you sweetheart

You smile and giggle a little to yourself, feeling butterflies at the thought of Joel thinking about you all day in any sense at all.

Joel is having a mess of a day at work. Shit, he thinks to himself for a solid thirty minutes at least after reading the texts you’ve sent about him making you come. And now it’s all he can think about, fighting his dick getting hard for half the day as he tries to focus on keeping his team in line and getting their work done. Tommy seems to notice Joel’s distracted mind, but doesn’t say anything just yet, and for that Joel is grateful.

In the end, Joel can’t stop his thoughts from drifting back to you. Just how absolutely mind blowingly good you’d felt as you came around his fingers and into his mouth, and the look on your face when you realized there was no way he was stopping at just one orgasm. He knows he could’ve gotten another one out of you last night after those three, and the thought of seeing you that fucked out and desperately writhing for him is practically what’s getting him through the day. One day, he’s going to get you to truly beg him to stop making you come, and he feels a slightly uncomfortable twitch in his jeans at the thought.

Tommy gives Joel a sly look as he catches Joel checking his phone yet again.

“I see things are going well,” he chides, and Joel rolls his eyes a little.

“Just… seeing how things play out,” Joel answers mostly honestly. Tommy hasn’t asked so Joel hasn’t felt the need to share that things had progressed between the two of you.

“Brother, I don’t know the last time I saw you like this,” Tommy says with a shake of his head.

“I know,” Joel runs a hand down his face, sighing. “I’ll get my head back in the game, sorry Tommy.”

Joel didn’t know exactly how he was going to do that, when images of you from last night accompanied by sexy little texts were floating through his mind, but he would damn well try.

You’re yawning, leaned up against your pillows, feeling like the most elderly 25 year old in the world as you see that it’s barely even 9:30 and you’re already ready for bed. You haven’t heard anything else from Joel, and you’re glad that means he’s hopefully having a fun time out with his work crew. You can’t help that you’re still a bit disappointed you aren’t seeing him again tonight, but you think maybe it’s a good thing, to get a little separation from these last few nights to clear your head a bit. Your phone buzzing next to you takes you out of your thoughts, and you can’t stop the immediate smile when you see Joel’s message pop up.

9:34pm

Joel: Missing you baby, what’re you up to?

You begin to type a message back, but then pause, having an even better idea strike you. You immediately rifle through your underwear drawer frantically, finding one of your favorite black lace pairs and changing into it. You peel off your shirt and settle yourself on your bed, covering your tits with one hand and forearm and angling the camera on your phone to get a teasing image down your chest and all the way to your panties as you lay down. You decide to flip over and take another one of just your ass, showing off the cheeky design of the black lace that covers only half of your behind. You giggle to yourself most of the time, feeling so ridiculous but happy to be doing this for Joel. You sit on the edge of your bed and scroll through the embarrassing amount of photos you’d just taken to try and get it perfect, and choose one of your front and backside to send to Joel. Your fingers shake a little as you hit send, realizing these are your first risque photos you’ve ever sent anyone. You feel weirdly nervous, hoping he’ll like them, that they aren’t too much, that you look hot enough in them. You’ve already decided on the perfect message to go with the photos, quickly typing it out and sending it along.

You: Just wishing you were here right now so you could fuck my face

Your phone pings barely moments later, and you grin into the screen as you read Joel’s response.

Joel: Fucking hell

Joel: You naughty girl… Can’t believe you’d sent that while I’m out in public

You: Oops :)

You: Heading to sleep, goodnight!

Joel: You’re unbelievable

Joel: Goodnight ;)

You’re dozing with the TV on but muted, the colors and lights of the screen flashing through your otherwise dark room. You stir awake, unsure of what exactly caused it, but you roll over and try to close your eyes again. A sound comes, and it must be what woke you - a tapping on the door to your apartment. Your face scrunches up in equal concern and annoyance - who the hell would be doing this in the middle of the night? You check your phone - it’s 11:30pm. You slide out of bed and pad over to the door, unlocking and then opening it.

Joel is standing there, slightly disheveled from his evening out in a long sleeved plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and jeans. His hair is mussed slightly, but you always love it when it’s like that. You’re slightly annoyed that he woke you up, but you immediately grin incredulously at the sight of him.

“Wh-?” you start to ask, wide eyed, but he’s already moving his way through your door, stepping past you and into the room.

“Couldn’t get me fuckin’ your pretty face out of my mind since you said it,” Joel says gruffly, looking back towards you with a little smirk.

You cross your arms, trying to feign an unimpressed attitude, despite being immediately excited about his presence. “I see,” you say with a quirked brow, approaching him and running a hand delicately along his arm. “You woke me up, you know.”

Joel leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry, baby. I can go, if you want.”

“No,” you call out quickly, almost too desperately. This is the first time he’s offering to let you pleasure him in some way, and you feel the need to cling onto it. “That’s okay, I’m happy you’re here.” You try to smile alluringly as you look up at him, and Joel, sensing the urgency in your words, has a wry look on his face. He moves over to your bed and sits on the edge of it, watching you with his head tilted slightly. You immediately feel the warmth of desire spreading through you with the way he’s looking at you in your thin tank top and sleep shorts, his eyes full of hunger and desire.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs as you draw nearer. You stand between his legs, and for some reason, the nerves kick in, little flips going through your stomach. Something about the way he’s in your space and came by unannounced, wanting nothing but your mouth on him is enough to send you spiraling.

“Think it’s fun to tease me all day like that? Send those pictures?” he asks, grabbing you by the ass and pulling you further in between his legs, your chest level with his face now. He leans his head forward and takes one of your nipples into his mouth through the fabric of your shirt and sucks hard. You inhale sharply and your whole body seems to buck forward with it, the feeling immediately growing the steadily warming pit inside of your core.

“Y-yes, I do,” you manage to squeak out, and Joel bites gently at the now hard and aching bud beneath your shirt.

“Of course you do - you naughty, needy thing, wanting me to be hard all day at work, needin’ you on this cock,” he says, pinching your other nipple between his fingers and rolling, looking straight up into your eyes now. You nod slightly, trying to focus despite his movements, grinding your hips forward into nothing, looking for relief as an ache begins to build between your legs.

“I like being needed by you,” you say quietly, biting your lip as you nervously await his response to your confession. Joel’s face softens a little despite the desire still lurking in his gaze.

“I know you do, darlin’, you want to be a good girl for me, huh? Make me wanna keep coming back for more?” He stands off the bed and brings a hand up to your cheek, pressing his palm to it and curling his fingers around your head. You’re already falling apart inside, melting at his words that ring a little too true, and feel your cheeks warming.

“Yes,” you breathe out, “Please.”

As if your words were a confirmation to him, Joel moves his hands to your shoulders, turning you around and pushing you gently to sit on the bed while he strokes the skin there with his thumbs. You sit quietly, impatiently awaiting his next move, your chest heaving slightly now with anticipation. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off of your eager expression as he reaches to his belt, jangling sounds as he unbuckles it fills the room and he unzips his pants. He lets them fall to the floor, and you can now see his cock straining against his black briefs. You hesitantly reach out to touch him, but he tenderly takes your wrist and holds it back, shaking his head.

“So eager, aren’t we?” He arches an eyebrow playfully. You swear your mouth starts to water and the thought of tasting his cock, so you suppose he’s not wrong. He lets go of your wrist, and you drop it down to your side now, watching as he slides a hand down his briefs and rubs his cock, large hands grabbing the length of it, a small groan of pleasure coming out of him.

“F-fuck,” you whimper, squeezing your thighs together as much as you can despite Joel standing in between your knees. You need it, you need him, and all you can focus on is the thought of that cock being somewhere inside of you. Joel is loving every minute of this torture, a little gleam in his eye as he chuckles at you squirming.

“Okay, sweet girl, you’ve waited long enough,” he coos, lovingly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You feel excitement pouring through you when he pulls his briefs down his legs and the full length of his cock sits bare in front of you. You immediately have the urge to lurch forward, take it into your mouth and give him all the pleasure he’s been giving to you, but you think better of it.

“Open,” Joel commands, moving a little closer to you and putting his whole hand against the back of your head, threading his fingers into your hair. You do as he says, your mouth hanging open for him.

Your tongue comes out, immediately lapping at the head of his cock as soon as it gets close enough, and Joel‘s body jerks at your movement until he relaxes into it. You run slow, swirling circles around it with your tongue, flicking your tongue a bit down into the shaft, eliciting breathy little moans from Joel as you continue your movements down the length of him. Now that it’s so close to your mouth, you’re realizing just how much of him you’re going to have to fit in there, and you want to panic a little bit. Joel seems to sense your apprehension because he begins to stroke the back of your head calmingly with his fingertips.

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll go slow,” he says, attempting to reassure you. You simply give a “mm-hmm” and a nod in approval while you continue working him with your tongue, not missing a beat. You position your head underneath him and lick a long stripe with the flat of your tongue up the length, then move your lips to the head, a silent signal that you’re ready for him. Joel pushes his hips forward carefully, the head going into your mouth, his salty taste taking over every taste bud. You moan a little from the pure anticipation leading up to this moment, wanting to pleasure him like this from the first night you’d spent together. Or, if you’re being honest with yourself, probably from the first day you’d seen him from your parents’ yard.

“Already lookin’ so perfect on my cock like that, pretty girl,” Joel drawls breathlessly as he pushes a little deeper, your mouth still comfortably taking him in, and his praising words send a rush of wetness between your legs, making you squirm a little bit. He pulls back, his cock sliding almost all the way out of your mouth before he thrusts his hips forward again, this time a little deeper. He continues the motions, moving himself slightly deeper into your mouth each time he pushes himself back into you. It’s becoming a stretch to take this much of him, but you want so badly to be his good girl, to make him happy, so you keep going. His next thrust hits a little too deep and you gag slightly, grasping onto Joel’s thigh for support as tears sting your eyes. He pauses for a moment, but you slide your mouth a few times to let him know it’s okay to keep going. He starts thrusting a little more urgently now that he’s learning your boundaries, his cock repeatedly moving in and out of your warm mouth, and from the groaning sounds he’s making, you know he’s been wanting to do this badly for a while now, much longer than just today.

When Joel said he was going to fuck your face, he meant it. His hand holds firmly on the back of your head as he thrusts his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth with ragged breaths.

“My perfect, pretty girl,” he mumbles in between his panting, looking down and watching your mouth take his cock over and over in the dim lighting of the room. “Bet you like this cock in your mouth, want me to push it back as far as I can, don’t you?” he groans out.

You simply try to nod enthusiastically despite your head being held by him, and he grunts approvingly at your reaction, pushing his dick just that much deeper into your mouth. You fight the urge to choke a little, but you move past the feeling, finding the perfect angle for him to hit in your mouth to avoid it. His praises, the way his cock tastes, it’s overwhelming you and you feel the ache between your legs pulsing, begging you to do something about it. You slide your hand down inside of your shorts, pressing your palm to your pussy and sighing lightly at the relief as your hips immediately begin moving, grinding against your hand. Joel, seeing your movements on the bed, smirks down at you as he catches sight of your hand in your shorts.

“Fuck, you sweet little thing, liking taking me in your mouth like that - who would’ve thought you’d be such a filthy, cock hungry girl, hm?” he rambles, lost in the moment of his pleasure. You other hand cautiously reaches up, grasping onto the very base of his cock, beginning to pump along the base of it. Joel doesn’t stop you, if anything it seems to encourage him. His moans become a bit louder, and when your own moans vibrate onto his cock from your mouth, it seems like it’s driving him absolutely crazy.

“Yeah, baby, just like that, keep touching that little pussy for me,” Joel moans out, and you have no problem obeying his command. You’re already moving your hips rhythmically onto your fingers now, rubbing your clit quickly and desperately, the pressure of your climax already almost at a breaking point. His cock is throbbing, begging for release, and you begin to add some more movement into the hand on the base, rotating it slightly a few times and then dipping down to cup his balls.

“Fuck,” he grunts, “Yes, sweet girl, s-such a good girl,” he breathes out, stammering a little now. His eyes are closed as he continues to pump his cock into your mouth, his hand gripping even tighter on your head. You’re both in a frenzy, close to climaxing, but Joel seems to be reaching it first. “I’m gonna come right into that throat, baby, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” he says, and you make a moaning sound onto his cock in affirmation. He plunges deep, releasing himself and you feel his cum hit the back of your throat, warm and salty as his body shudders, his muscles tensing. You don’t let up on touching yourself, the feeling of him reaching his climax only sends an even greater ache to your cunt as you push your finger inside of yourself. You can feel his body loosen moments later, and he relaxes, slowly dragging his cock out of your mouth with hazy looking eyes.

He quickly notices your hand still in your shorts, rubbing frantically, and grabs your wrist, pulling it out. You cry out at the movement on your clit suddenly stopping, but Joel has other plans - he lets go of your wrist, gripping your shoulders and flipping you onto the bed, stomach down. He presses himself against you, leaning his body over top of yours, and you can feel his still wet half hard cock pressing against your ass. He slides a hand underneath your hips, immediately pushing two fingers onto your clit, but he leaves it still, not moving.

“Make yourself come,” he commands, leaning closer to your ear now, each word deliberate and succinct. . “Use me.”

You breathe in a little shakily, but find yourself turned on all over again at what he’s suggesting. You start to tentatively move your hips, grinding them down onto his hand. As soon as you start moving, his fingers slowly begin to make circles on your clit, prompting you to move faster.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper, pushing your hips into his hand harder and harder, his fingers staying perfectly on your clit as he rubs it along with your movements You’re losing all sense of control now, your hips lifting off the bed and then back down, feeling like something other than you is guiding your motions now as you reach closer to your orgasm.

Joel’s noises of approval at you pleasuring yourself bring you even closer to the edge, knowing he enjoys this as much as you do. He starts kissing along your back, keeping his body pressed close to yours, but allowing as much movement as you need to get off. The flutter of his lips on your skin sends you shuddering.

“Yeah, baby, come on,” he urges you, rubbing his finger more intensely now. You’re moving your hips quicker, trying to find the perfect angle, panting into the mattress now, desperately reaching for your orgasm. Joel senses you’re close, feeling your dripping cunt all over his hand, and he surprises you by quickly sliding his hand down and in one fluid motion pushing two fingers inside of you, barely letting up on the motion on your clit as he does it. You cry out into the bed, trying not to make too much noise as Joel pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“Need your sweet little pussy comin’ all over this hand, c’mon.” His voice is low, and he lightly bites the skin on your back as he stays pressed against you. You’re shaking all over as your hips grind down into his fingers and your core suddenly explodes, the orgasm wracking your body. You moan loudly, pressing your face down as you bite onto the sheets, trying to stifle your noise with something.

Joel doesn’t let up, letting you ride out your climax hard onto his hand, your slickness coating his fingers as he goes as deep as he can throughout it. Your shuddering finally slows, and you try to catch your breath, practically collapsing onto his hand.

“Very good girl,” he coos, planting another kiss on your back. You lift your hips just enough for him to pull his hand out before you let them fall back down, your muscles threatening to give out on you. Joel lays down next to you on his back and turns his head over to you, gently smoothing your hair off of your face and you see the corners of his lips turn up slightly.

“I’m glad you showed up,” you say breathlessly, smiling wide.

Joel chuckles. “Oh, me too, sweetheart.”

You two lay silently for a few moments, before you turn onto your side and look at him with anticipation, nervous about what you want to ask him. “Is it weird to say that I like… how you act during… all this stuff?” You peer over at him and bite your lip, thankful that the darkness is likely hiding how red your cheeks are turning.

“How do you mean?” Joel scrunches his brow.

“Just… all the stuff you say to me. It really turns me on.”

Joel lets out another little laugh. “Oh yeah? You like the things I call you?”

You nod, maybe a little too excitedly, catching yourself and releasing a shy laugh. “Yeah, I do.”

“Like… bein’ my good girl? My sweet girl?”

You squirm a little just hearing the words come out of his mouth, and it doesn’t escape Joel’s notices as he lifts his brows a bit at you. “Mhm, and… when you’re more vulgar too,” you say, barely loud enough for him to hear. You cover your face in embarrassment, you don’t know why this is too much to say to a man who’s dick you just had in your mouth, but it is. It’s like there’s different personalities involved when you two are intimate, or something.

“S’okay darlin’, don’t be so embarrassed. It’s all normal,” he assures you, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

“I know, I guess I just never had anyone say most of this stuff before, it’s really… fucking hot.”

Joel laughs heartily now, and you follow suit. “It is!” you call out, giggling.

“I believe ya,” Joel says between chuckles. “I’m glad you like it, baby.” He ponders for a moment before adding with another laugh, “It’s hot for me too, I guess.”

“So you like saying that stuff to me, too?” You perk up a little, excited to hear his answer and get any type of validation from him on his feelings for you.

“Of course,” he says, touching your cheek. “Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. Gets me off just thinkin’ about callin’ you those things.”

You look at him slightly surprised, but smiling nonetheless. “Really?” you ask, still having a hard time accepting that Joel could be equally as attracted to you as you are to him.

“You know I think you’re the sexiest little thing, don’t you, baby? I could get turned on just by the idea of you,” he confesses, and you find your body instinctively moving closer to him before you even realize it.

“I guess I just assumed… you liked me, but maybe not… I don’t know, as much as I was interested in you.”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about you non-stop since I saw you for the first time, wantin’ to say all that stuff to you, if that helps.”

“I can’t believe that sometimes, that you noticed me like that.” You bite your lip nervously as you realize more and more of your feelings are getting out in the open tonight.

“And why’s that?” Joel asks, genuine curiosity in his expression.

“I mean look at you…” You gesture to all of him, and he chuckles a little. “And with my age, I didn’t know you’d see me like that. I just felt like I couldn’t compare with women your age, or something.” Ugh, you hated how you sounded saying all of this out loud.

“Darlin’, if I’m honest, right now you’re the only one I see myself wantin’ to fuck. Can’t get you off my mind,” he replies, and it’s so honest that you can’t help the look of surprise in your face. It quickly changes into a small, shy, smile though and you glance over at him.

“I like to hear you say that,” you say sweetly, practically melting as you catch his brown eyes with yours. “I can’t get you off my mind, either.”

“Well it’s settled, let’s stay on each other's minds, then,” Joel says, reaching over to wrap his arm around you. You turn onto your side and settle your body into his, nestling into the warmth and the smell of him and sex on the both of you.

“It’s settled,” you echo back, and you can feel the smile in Joel’s body as he squeezes you tighter. “Will you stay for a bit?” you ask tentatively, worried that between last night and this, he’s going to think you’re being too clingy for whatever this arrangement is that you’ve just agreed on.

“Sure, baby,” he says softly, and the two of you adjust yourselves to lay on the pillows up against the headboard.

“Have you ever seen this show?” you ask him, the TV now in both of your sights across from the end of the bed.

“Can’t say I’m one for these reality shows…” Joel says, peering at the screen skeptically as you unmute it.

“I’m telling you, it’s some of the funniest shit you could ever watch. One night here and I’ll have you hooked, I swear.”

Joel scoffs lightheartedly and laughs, denying what you’ve said, but he settles into the bed, continuing to hold you in his arms while you lay your head on his chest. You two watch in silence for a while until Joel interrupts.

“Now wait… why’s she so upset?” he asks, and the real concern in his voice makes you want to burst out laughing.

“Okay, so this girl Becca, she’s obsessed with that guy, Paul, but Paul chose Carrie for his big date he gets to have. But get this - Carrie and Becca are best friends in this house they all share so it’s just so awkward and freaking dramatic for no good reason,” you explain, your words coming out rapidfire before you can even doubt if Joel cares to hear all of this.

“Jesus christ,” Joel murmurs quietly, taking in your speed rundown of the drama. You immediately laugh at how ridiculous you’d just sounded, but you peer up and Joel’s eyes are still glued to the TV, intently watching as the show flashes between the date and Becca crying to the other girls about Paul. Once the episode ends, Joel doesn’t stop the next one from starting to play, and you have to bite back the shit eating grin you want to wear on your face so badly. Instead, you turn your head from his chest to look at his face again.

“Told you,” you say simply, raising your eyebrows.

“Oh, shut it,” Joel chuckles, shoving you gently. He glances down at you with a soft smile and then kisses the top of your head, his eyes flicking back to the drama unfolding on the TV.

You can’t help but think that you could easily stay in this moment, just like this, forever.

#hehe i love this chapter soooo much i need joel so biblically it's not even fucking funny #fic: closer #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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misted-dream · 5 months

Text

🦢 A WALTZ IN THE DARK ₊˚⊹ ˚ ༘ ⋆

ACT I THE ROLE. | to the programme

chapter info . . . content enemies to lovers (not really enemies or lovers yet), mentions of minor injury sustained from dancing, plot-heavy chapter basically exposition, maybe fluff? warnings smoking, profanity w. count 6.7k

series synopsis . . . the first and last time you and doyoung danced together was 5 years ago. 5 years since the mishap that founded your mistrust of him, at least as a duet partner. with the annual swan lake showing rolling around, you think you finally stand a chance to audition for the leads: odette and odile. it's every ballerina's dream to play this role at least once in their career. little do you know, rumour has it that kim doyoung just so happens to be auditioning for the role of prince siegfried this year.

tags @00127am

Truthfully, it’s claustrophobic out in the hallways. Despite it being well-ventilated and well-lit, there’s a stuffy feeling of being cramped into a space that crawls up onto your skin, pricking up goosebumps along with it. You prop one leg up on the barre that lines every inch of every wall within this building, bending your torso at your hip and pushing towards your knee in a straight line. The other dancers around you do the same. The energy in this corridor is unspoken, but there’s a shared feeling of anxiousness. It’s been at least 20 minutes since the last dancer was called into the audition room; no audition needs to take 20 minutes. Unless, they’re so spectacular to the point where the directors have forgotten they were still auditioning people for the roles.

Not just any role though. The role. The role of Odette, and by the same token, the role of Odile. The lead female role for the Swan Lake Ballet. It’s been regarded as one of the most difficult roles to play because of how stark the contrast is between these two characters that are supposed to look the same, so naturally, logic suggests that the same ballerina must dance these two, so very different characters.

You set your back upright again, feeling an adequate enough stretch in your hamstrings. The dancers amongst you are all individually in their own worlds. Last year, you didn’t even sign up to audition for the lead. Though, not many people did. It was pretty much guaranteed that the prima ballerina would get it. This year, however, she opted out of auditioning and suddenly, there was an influx in interest for the part. Your whole life, you’ve been training for such an occasion—you can’t let it slip past you now.

“Y/N!”

A voice calls out. You turn your head in the direction of the voice. A pretty ballerina slips by the woman with a clipboard in her hand. The dancer’s light brown hair is pulled back perfectly, a full bun sitting in the back of her head. She waves a quick goodbye to the people inside the room before she steps out into the hallway.

“Yes, that’s me.” You say before bending down to pick up your dance bag, swinging it onto your right shoulder.

The woman doesn’t say anything else, she simply rotates her body sideways to allow some space for you to step in through to the room.

As soon as you’re inside the audition room, you see a seated panel of four people, two of whom you recognise: the company’s director and the choreographer. Both the pride and joy of the Paris House of Ballet. There’s an air of iciness that surrounds them. You set down your bag by the edge of the wall and saunter towards the spot marked with masking tape in the middle of the room.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the director, Colette, beams at you.

You purse your lips together, kneeling down in front of the tablet set out for auditionees to put on the music they’ve chosen for their piece. A soft piano melody begins. The panel immediately recognises it as the Dying Swan. The melancholy tune floods the square audition room, and you let the music overtake and guide your every movement.

The piece is beginning to come to an end. You’re sat on top of your heel with one leg pointed straight out in front of you. The swan’s final moments, she’s still fighting for her mortality. With one last flare of her wings—your arms—you envelope yourself. Arms crossed at the wrist resting on top of your ankle, and you bow your head, your forehead touching your shin. You wait a few seconds before uncrossing your wrists and getting up onto your feet, as gracefully as you can. Looking up at the panel, you’re met with satisfied smiles. Internally, you release a deep sigh.

Colette looks to her sides, and then she begins, “Your grace is incomparable. Truly, very well done.”

One of the people whom you don’t recognise chimes in, “One of the best we’ve seen so far.” He nods, looking pleased with you and himself.

Colette’s smile is sturdy on her face. “Now, how are your fouettés?”

As soon as you step one foot out of the audition room, someone is already there waiting to pounce. “How was it?” Karina asks ecstatically.

Your shoulders jump up a bit at her excitement, “-You scared me.”

She widens her eyes expectantly, waiting for you to answer her question.

“It was alright. I did well enough on Odette’s part.”

Karina rolls her eyes, “Is that what you think? Well enough?”

You’re eyeing down the water fountain at the end of the corridor, someone stood right in front of it as they’re filling up their bottle. A tall man waltzes past, his head turning towards you for a brief moment. As quick as he came into view, he leaves all the same. You’re stuck looking at where the outline of his body was, eyes boring holes into the beige-painted walls of the corridors.

“Hello?” Karina’s voice brings you back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry. What did you say?”

Monday mornings are never usually too bad. This Monday morning may prove your hypothesis wrong, though. The casting of the characters for Swan Lake were said to be posted up today, up on the bulletin board. They could just send out a mass message but your company insists on doing things the conventional way, only like back a decade ago. It’s tradition, they’d said, dancers all huddle up to hopefully find their names next to the character they auditioned for.

You’re hoping the same as you begin your commute to work this morning.

You swipe your ID card against the reader and the glass doors click open. Already, you can see a group of people, some wearing their practice outfits whilst others look they they just walked in with their puffer jackets on, all crowded around a rectangular pillar that stands in the middle of the staircase—separating the stairs that go up and the ones that go down.

Curiosity spikes within you, an unease settling in the pit of your stomach. This is it. You walk over to the crowd that’s garnering more people by the second.

“Y/N! Here!” You hear Karina’s voice from somewhere in the horde, and then a hand tugs at you. She pulls you through the mob of dancers, all eager to find their names plastered on the wall, until you’re stood next to her. You’re about two people away from the bulletin board, and once they move out of your way, it’s blatantly in your face. The plain piece of paper is titled: ‘Swan Lake Showing Castings.’

Your eyes skim past the castings for the male dancers and straight to the bottom half for the female dancers. You land on where it says ‘Odette/Odile’ and the name next to it: Juliette Martin. Not yours.

“Look!” Karina points at the paper, index finger underlining the role for Odette/Odile’s understudy. And there it is. Your name printed out next to the role of the understudy. Karina is visibly shaking with excitement, definitely more so than you. If anyone didn’t know better, they’d probably think that your name was Karina’s.

“Oh my god!” She flings her arms around you, and in her embrace, you shuffle out of the mob of people together. “You got it!”

“The understudy,” you remind her lowly. You attempt to soften your tone with a light, “Well,” and a shrug.

She’s not phased by your disappointment. “Still. You should be proud of yourself,” she leans her head forward, “I am. Proud of you, I mean.”

Her words force a smile onto your face and you manage out a quiet, ‘thank you.’

You’re in the middle of the barre routine, foot pointed out to second, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Thinking that it’s your mentor’s way of telling you to fix something—it could be anything really, straighten your back, tuck in your pelvis, turn out, point your toes more—you settle for standing up taller and rolling your shoulders back. She taps you again, in the same spot. This time, you turn to look at your mentor; maybe she’ll feel like actually specifying her request, unlike usually. Her coarse, grey hair frames her face in artistically messy strands, the rest of it pulled back into a quick bun, unlike the neat, meticulously combed ones that ballerinas normally gravitate towards wearing. Once your mentor has your attention, she signals towards the door to the studio. You drop your arms from the barre, eyebrows raising at your mentor with all your four fingers pointing to your chest. She nods. This whole interaction is carried out in silence, as to not disturb the rest of the dancers going through the routine. You half-walk, half-jog on your tiptoes towards the studio doors, and the director is waiting by the frame.

She steps out and you follow her into the hallway. Finding a nearby bench, she sits down and prompts you to do the same.

The cold from the metal bars of the bench is insulated by your joggers, one leg pulled up to above your knee exposing the tights underneath, while the other sits where it’s supposed to.

You breathe in, “What can I do for you?” You try to put on a convincing smile.

“Did you see the castings this morning?” The director begins.

You simply nod, not knowing where this conversation will go.

“Well, Juliette dropped out of the show this morning.”

“Oh,” you voice. And then the revelation hits you. You repeat, “Oh,” this time with full understanding of the director’s implications.

“So…” Colette’s lips are slow to curve into a smile, “You’re our lead.”

Your stomach flutters upon hearing those words, your mouth hung slightly agape. An excitement inches up to your face, the muscles in your cheeks spark up. “I mean, yeah. I’d love that. But why?” Colette notices the tiniest sliver of hesitation in your tone.

“Personal stuff—she didn’t know if she can stay in Paris for the next 3 months to train.”

You nod in understanding. “That’s a shame.”

“Some things can’t be helped,” Colette responds. “So, you’ll do it?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great!” The director’s face lights up as she puts her own hand over yours. “Training should start as soon as possible, so…” she looks down onto the floor to think, “The day after tomorrow?”

The way this conversation happened, it’s like you’re continuously a beat behind Colette. “I can look over the routines by myself tomorrow, no problem. Wouldn’t that be better? So we don’t have to wait an extra day?”

“Oh, no.” She gives a starry-eyed shake of the head. “Your training starts with partnering. You know, to test the chemistry.”

You mouth a subtle, ‘Oh.’

“Did you see who got the role of Siegfried?”

You let out a soft chuckle, “No. I kind of zoned out when I saw that I was the understudy.” A sudden wave of self-awareness engulfs you after that sentence uttered with unfiltered honesty. If Colette picked up on that, she made no show of it.

“I don’t know if you know him, actually. Kim Doyoung got the part.”

Kim Doyoung.

You knew him. No doubt, you knew him.

You lay in bed, eyes staring at the ceiling. The covers are pulled all the way up to your chest despite it being warm enough that you don’t need to sleep with the covers on. As you shut your eyes, an all-too-familiar memory plays out in your head.

It’s 5 years ago. You’re a fresh face to the company having just graduated from the Paris Conservatory for dance. It’s a spring day, the trees outside the studio building are beginning to blossom again.

It’s partner practice and the mentor decided that today is the day that everyone will try some lifts. Not that extraordinary, you’d been lifted countless times even during your days learning at the conservatory. Kim Doyoung just so happened to be stood next to you when the mentor announced this. You didn’t know anyone in the class back then, seeing as you’d just joined, and he made no conscious effort to go seeking out a particular partner, so naturally, the two of you partnered up.

You didn’t know who he was at the time, just the fact that he was undeniably handsome. A combination of both sharp and soft features to him; if he was anything as a partner, it was that he’s easy on the eye.

The mentor demonstrated a lift which consisted of the male dancer lifting his partner all the way up in the air over his head, while she arched her back with both feet pointed downwards; arms stretched out nearly in a 90 degree angle from each other.

Someone had counted to 3 and that’s when you jumped, assisting him the most you could as he lifted you well over 6 feet above the ground. The lift went fine. The mentor then suggested a variation in which the male dancer supports the weight with only one hand. And you don’t know what happened, but presumably Doyoung tried to hold the lift with a single hand, and that’s when it started going downhill.

There was a little instability in your core and you told him to put you down. He listened, or at least tried to, but the balance was thrown off. He was still holding the weight with one hand when he tried to wrap his free hand around your waist again. Before you know it, the fabric of your leotard did you no good and you started slipping from his grip. Being forced to basically propel yourself down, it came too unexpectedly, and you landed on the floor without properly bracing your knees. Rookie mistake, you’d thought even in the moment.

That day, you didn’t think much of it. But then your dominant leg started hurting throughout the day, especially your knee. When you went to the infirmary, the nurse advised you to take a few days off from dancing; the pressure of being en pointe wouldn’t help the shock from the impact of your landing. Few days then turned into 2 weeks, courtesy of a second opinion from the physician that you thought would help argue your case—which was to continue dancing.

Doyoung obviously saw the injury take place, and you can’t be sure if he took notice of your absence in class for the following two weeks. But that was the first and last time you ever partnered with him. And you made yourself a promise to never dance with him, again.

Up until now, it’s been pretty easy living up to that promise. Key words: until now.

Even getting up out of bed this morning was something you thought over more than once. Were you really ready to go ‘test the chemistry’ with the man that you more or less held a grudge against for the past 5 years? You know that you should let it go, it’s been 5 years—and besides, it’s not like the accident rendered you completely unable to dance again. And it wasn’t on purpose. You had to remind yourself of these facts every time you start feeling a sting from your knee shooting through your entire leg.

You walk into the studio, curtains to the windows drawn all the way back, the view of the city reflected on one of the walls entirely lined with mirrors. Colette is already there, alongside Rafael, the choreographer, and Doyoung is there, too.

“Just on time!” Colette greets you brightly.

You catch Doyoung’s eyes for a split second as you walk further into the room. His face carried an expression, one full of indifference. Does he recognise you?

You pull the strap of your bag off your shoulder, and drop it down in the corner of the room right in front of the mirror.

“Shall we get started?” Colette’s voice piques your collective attention. “The first duet we’re running over is the Act 2 pas de deux. I assume we’re all familiar with it?”

Her question is met with a couple of silent nods.

In Act 2, the Prince, Doyoung’s character, meets Odette, your character, for the first time. Prince Siegfried absolutely revels in Odette’s beauty, grace, and reserve.

Rafael pushes off the windowsill and makes his way over to you and Doyoung, standing in the centre of the room with an unnatural distance between you. You don’t know if he recognises you or not, and you’re not sure which option’s worse. A, that he recognises you but fails to even acknowledge his mistake that you’ve been stuck thinking about for the past couple of days, or B, that he doesn’t even recognise you because whatever happened was that insignificant to him.

Rafael begins to mark out the routine, highlighting the part in the duet— the pas de deux—where Siegfried caresses Odette’s face with his fingers, turning her head towards him. Following this intimate moment between the characters, there’s supposed to be two consecutive lifts performed by Siegfried that makes it appear like Odette is floating in the air. You’re standing very, very still as Rafael mimics these movements with little effort.

When he’s done, he asks a simple, “Got it?” before turning to face the speakers. Doyoung utters a quiet, “Yeah,” but you can only manage a nod that Rafael catches in the reflection.

And so, the music begins.

You take your place slightly off centre with Doyoung a little bit behind you. He takes slow, conscious steps towards you. His hand reaches out, fingers with the goal of landing softly on your chin. And they do. The pads of his fingers are cold to the touch, sending a shiver down you as you turn your face to look at him. Before you get the chance to properly look at him, your cue to take centre stage comes. In a fluttering-like motion, you quickly alternate between each foot putting pressure on your toes, bringing your arms to fifth up above your head. There’s a build-up in the music, and you feel Doyoung’s fingers tightly wrapped around your ribcage. The anticipation builds in Colette. But then, you call out, “Wait!”

Confusion colours Colette’s face, “What’s wrong?”

Rafael pauses the music, leaving the room in silence. Doyoung’s fingers loosen around you.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admit with a clean-cut honesty. You put mind to not catch a glimpse of Doyoung’s reflection in the mirror before you.

Colette chuckles, “What do you mean?”

“I can’t be Odette.”

A stillness falls over everyone in the room, but particularly Colette. You meet her eyes, and there’s an uncharacteristic air of apathy to her. “You’re kidding. I mean, you didn’t even—”

Rafael physically takes a step in between you and Colette, Doyoung still silent in the situation. Rafael holds up a palm in Colette’s direction, then turns to face you. “Let’s start again in 10 minutes—is that okay with everyone?”

You glance over at the mirror and see Doyoung’s reaction. He widens his eyes in annoyance, and leaves the centre of the room, heading straight for his stuff on the side.

A thinly rolled cigarette sandwiched between your lips, you flick on the lighter and bring up the flame to the end of the stick. You take a slow drag before resting your forearms on the railing that outlines the balcony, cigarette tucked in between your fingers. On one hand, you’re glad that Rafael stepped in before Colette could explode, but on the other, he’s now set a precedent that you’ll be happy to cooperate again in 10 minutes' time. You don’t know if that stands true. And it’s looking more like 5 minutes now that you found your way out here to have a quick smoke.

You hear the door behind you swing open as you take another drag. The sound of chatter mixed in with cutlery clanging together in the canteen rushes out into your ears. You look back over your shoulder, and it’s Rafael.

“Mind sharing?” He walks over to the edge of the balcony next to you, eyes looking pointedly at the cigarette in your hand.

Funnelling out a puff of smoke with closed lips, you flick off the ash and pass the stick to him.

“Colette send you out here to get me?” You watch as he inhales.

He shakes his head, eyes looking down as he sucks in before breathing out. There’s a few seconds of silence in between him shaking his head and actually beginning to speak. “If this is going to work, you’re gonna have to trust him.”

“Raf, you know what happened. The last time I trusted him, I couldn’t work for 2 weeks afterwards.” He gives you your cigarette back and you take it in between your thumb and your index finger.

He sighs. “I do know what happened, and I know it was an accident.”

“If it wasn’t an accident, it really wouldn’t help your case here,” you take another long, deliberate pull.

Rafael pauses, slowly observing you as you exhale smoke from your lips. “Don’t you have some faith in him as a dancer? That he’s improved throughout all these years?”

He’s met with no response from you.

“You know, that was the last time he ever made a mistake like that in partnering. How’d you think he kept his job these 5 years?”

“Last mistake as far as you know.” Your words come out more sharply than anticipated.

“If you’re still uncomfortable, that’s fine. It’ll just be a shame to replace you—Colette loved your audition.”

Replace? Not even 10 minutes and there’s already throwing around of the word ‘replace?’ You suppose you did explicitly state, “I can’t be Odette,” back there. Guess it’s no one’s fault but your own.

“He’s dedicated. Driven. You can trust him.”

You can trust him. Those 4 particular words echo around in your head.

You follow Rafael all the way back to the studio. Colette watching as Doyoung is in midst of a solo routine. He comes to a halt when he sees the pair of you step into the room. Colette and Rafael exchange a look, not too particularly sneaky about it, either.

“Happy to see you join us again,” Colette stands from her chair, palms pushing against her knees, “Ready to do your job?”

You suck in a deep breath through gritted teeth, “Yeah.”

“Same part again, with the lift.” Colette delivers those last three words with extra care.

And so, the music plays, the same melody reverberating off the walls of the room. It’s like you’re living in déjà vu. The same scene plays out with Doyoung reaching out to trace his fingers along your jaw. There’s still a stiffness in you, prominent enough that you’re aware of it, when he touches you.

The music crescendos. His fingers laid flat against your rib again, preparing to lift you up in the air. There are multiple challenges to this. One obviously being your mistrust in your partner, which is crucial in duets. The other being the condition that you’re supposed to look dream-like, ethereally graceful while simultaneously being hauled up into the air, with nothing supporting you but the arms of a man whom you’d rather not even look at, let alone get lifted by.

You can trust him.

Alongside the music cue, you bend your knees into a plié and when you straighten your legs again, the familiar thrill of being thrusted high up into the air takes over you. Following the choreography, Doyoung sets you back down, and before you know it, you’re propped up again. Your arms flutter lightly, resembling the wings of a swan as the back of your wrists meet each other over your head, arms mimicking an ellipse.

Doyoung carefully helps you regain grounding by setting you back down slowly, his hands still tight around your waist. When he finally lets go, he mutters into your ear, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You turn around, met with the same expressionless face as when you first saw him earlier.

“That was…” Colette interrupts, “…standard. Chemistry needs a little working on, but nothing time can’t fix.” For some reason, you feel like that was meant for you with the way Colette’s looking pointedly at you.

With the newly added responsibility of your lead role, your schedule is now a little fuller, and brighter. Mondays and Tuesdays are solo training days, whereas Wednesdays and Thursdays are partner practice, specifically with Doyoung. Your company has always had a policy where despite whatever specified training there is for whatever show that’s currently getting worked on, Fridays were always company class days. Meaning that every dancer—the corps de ballet, every artist, soloist, even the principal dancers—come and train together. It’s like that saying that corporate businesses have, “We’re not a team, we’re a family.” Except you can feel a bit more of the ‘family’ aspect here than you probably can at some corporate job.

The weekends are the weekends. You’re not on the clock, but there’s still an unspoken understanding that you will be dancing, practicing, training, especially now with a role like this.

It’s Friday afternoon. You’re tucked in the corner somewhere, next to Karina, both observing the quick demo that the instructor is going through in the centre of the massive stage, just big enough to occupy all the dancers of the Paris House of Ballet.

The instructor tells the pianist to begin playing the piece, and the first row of dancers take position at the back of the stage.

“So, how was training yesterday?” Karina tries to contain her feverish squeal as she asks.

You bite back a smile at her exhilaration. “It was good.”

“When are you going to start giving me details without having me to ask for them?”

“It was nothing special. I don’t know what you want me to say.” You respond, watching the dancers as they travel across the stage in a multitude of jumps and leaps.

“Nothing special?” Karina elbows you in the side. You follow her eyes to see who’s across the room.

Doyoung stands in line for the next group of dancers to take the stage. A loose black tank top hangs onto his exposed shoulders, grey joggers sitting low on his hips. The stage lights do nothing but highlight his arms; how every muscle in them pull and stretch in different directions as he moves them.

You pull away from ogling at him. “Nothing special,” you repeat. “I don’t even think he recognised me.”

“You’re joking.”

“No. A man nearly ruins your life and doesn’t even remember you. What else do we expect?”

You and Karina share a chuckle, and the pair of you walk into the stage lights, preparing for the first position of the sequence.

It’s been a week since your first practice session with Doyoung. A week makes it sound like you’d gotten some time to warm up to him, when in reality, you’ve seen him three individual times for practice, and not any of those times did he even try to make casual conversation. Or less even, small talk.

You’re expecting today to be no different. Spend 8 hours with each other; 8 hours with his hands all over you; 8 hours pretending like you’re desperately in love—only for the pair of you to not even catch glimpses of each other outside the practice room.

You’d just finished running through another one of the many duets you have with him, this time as Odile, when you read the less-than-satisfied expression Colette has on her face. Uh oh.

She exhales sharply.

“It’s been a week.” Colette uncrosses her legs and pushes her glasses up into her hair. She stands up, one hand on the barre that disrupts the otherwise continuous panel of mirror on the wall. “One week. And you two still look like you’d rather piss at windmills than take your jobs seriously. Now, don’t get me wrong. Y/N, you’re very good at the rejection part—the falling in love part, not so much.”

The first time that you and Doyoung’s characters meet, he’s already head over heels for her. She, however, isn’t so keen on accepting his adoration, and it takes at least several dances before she’s done dismissing him.

You shoot Doyoung a quick glance. He has his hands on his hips, one of the sleeves of his T-shirt rolled up to his shoulder. “Well, it’s not easy to have chemistry with someone as dull as a rock,” you bite out.

That catches his attention.

“I’m sorry? I’m not the one who first freaked the fuck out the first time we practiced.” A record, truly. He said more than 5 words to you in conjunction at once. Not that that accomplishment is enough to distract you from what he said.

“You wanna know why I freaked the fuck out?” You take a step closer to him. “It’s because you—”

“Enough!” Colette cuts between the two of you. “You two obviously have some differences.” That’s putting it lightly, you thought. “You don’t need me to remind you that you’re professionals. So, stop acting out whatever lovers’ quarrel you have, and focus on the honeymoon phase, instead.”

She sits down on the floor again, crossing her legs. “Need I remind you that our version ends with Siegfried and Odette dead, so you two better sell it to the audience while they’re alive.”

You and Doyoung slowly look at each other, both reluctant. He’s the first to drop his gaze as he takes his position behind you, readying himself for another showing of his strength that the routine calls for.

Before you leave practice that night, Colette requests that you stay behind. You prepare yourself, thinking that it’s a reprimanding from her telling you to act more hopelessly enamoured. But she doesn’t. Instead, she asks to see your fouettés.

That’s the thing with the role of Odile. She’s incredibly fierce. Maybe it’s due to the fact that she’s the literal daughter of a dark magician who can magic up some spirit to possess her. In Act 3, she’s supposed to flawlessly execute 32 fouettés in succession, without once losing her balance. Basically, 32 full turns on your toe and landing it perfectly afterwards, as if that’s not the most nauseating thing in the world to do.

In your audition, you did maybe three or four turns. Now, Colette’s basically asking you to do that, but times 10.

It’s a challenge, no doubt, and it’s one that you’re not sure if you can take.

You settle yourself. Feet in fourth position—dominant leg in front, and the non-supporting leg at the back. Your arms out in second to the side of you. And you push off of your back foot. If there’s one trick to keeping your balance, it’s spotting. Pick a spot anywhere in the room, and only look at that spot when turning.

The foot that you’re spinning on continually drop back down to gain momentum to push off onto your toe again. It’s no easy feat. You’re about 10, 11 turns in when you start to feel the effects of dizzying. Having the option to end now—though incomplete—but at least with the standards of your turns up to par, or fighting through to the very last turn, you decide on stopping now.

You land the ending, coming down in a plié before rising up onto your toes in a relevé.

Panting, you drop your arms to catch your breath. You look at Colette, trying to hide the eagerness in your eyes.

“I’ll need to see an improvement on those, too,” she says in an icy tone, “Don’t let me down.”

You find yourself walking in the streets of the city at night on the last day of the weekend, heading towards the practice studio. Sure, you could wait a few more hours before it’s time for you to clock in, anyway, but you couldn’t. Not really. Especially not after the comment Colette made a few days back.

You press your card up against the reader and the familiar sound of the doors clicking open resonates in your ears.

You settle into your personal practice room, making no effort to turn on the lights. The windows that line the entirety of one side of the room is enough to let the lustre of the moon shine through, bathing the studio in a pale light.

You pull on your pointe shoes, wrapping your toes in a bandage-like material beforehand. Unlocking your phone, you look for the audio file that Colette sent to you of the very orchestra that will be performing alongside you in a few months’ time. Each orchestra performs each piece differently, however slight the difference is. It’s better to practice directly to them to get a hang of their nuisances, Colette’d said.

The music blares out from your phone, the tempo fast and the atmosphere lively. Your feet instinctively take their positions, and you push off on cue with the music.

No matter how many times you try tonight, there just seems to be something off. Either the spins are alright, but you lose your balance upon landing, or your supporting leg just wants to give out, or both. For most of the tries, it was both.

You come out of a failed series of fouettés. Bending over, you drop your hands to your knees, simultaneously trying to catch your breath. Then, that’s when you feel it. The ever-so-familiar acute stinging in your leg. For a moment, it’s so overwhelming that it physically causes you to scrunch your face up until it wears away a little by itself. A cloud of defeat looms over you.

You pick up your bottle off the floor and decide to go fill it up by the fountain outside. This part of the studio is much more modernised than the rest. There are two main hallways connected by a square courtyard—the garden, as the architects called it. The garden is enclosed within four entirely glass sliding doors, allowing access from every side. You don’t really know who’s watering the plants in the courtyard, because if it was up to the dancers, you know that those plants would’ve died a long while ago.

The room allocated to you is along one of the two hallways, directly facing the south side of the garden. You step out, heading towards the water fountain that stands in the middle of the two corridors, facing the west entrance to the courtyard.

You’re pushing down on the button to fill up your water bottle when you hear a tune that you immediately recognise. It’s the same one that you were just relentlessly listening to—or practicing to.

There’s a slight crack in one of the doors opposing yours. Tightening the lid on your bottle, you decide to quietly make your way over to the room on a whim. Who else is here on a weekend night? And practicing to the same piece as you?

You discreetly try to peek your head in, the crack in the door only allowing you to see a slight sliver of the practice room.

At first you don’t really see anything. Just the sound of the vivacious music. Then, a shadow of a figure leaps high up into the air, flying past the tiny window of what you can see before you can register it. You don’t want to think it, but it can only be one person.

One other person who has a part in this piece.

The music suddenly stops.

“Stop hiding.” A voice calls out.

You freeze. Your hunched over positioning has you locked.

Shit. What do you do?

“I know you’re there.” The voice sounds again. A bit ominous on your behalf, if you do say so.

Quietly, you push open the door, allowing yourself to see more than just a sliver of the room. The lights aren’t turned on.

Crouched over in front of the mirror is the one and only person you didn’t want to see: Doyoung.

His dark long sleeve shirt only thinly veiling his torso, contrasted by his light plaid pants. He watches in the mirror as you step one foot, then another into his practice room. The beam of the moon illuminated his face, making it visible to you even from a distance that he’s been here for at least a while with how the sweat glistened on his face and neck.

Say something. Anything.

“I didn’t know you practiced ’til this late.” You say, swinging your water bottle and holding it with both hands behind your back.

“I could say the same for you.”

Was that an insult or a back-handed compliment? Or maybe you’re just reading too much into it.

Doyoung moves his foot out from under him with a groan, so now he’s sitting on the floor. He tears his eyes away from you in favour of whatever he’s looking at on his phone. A prolonged silence falls upon the room. If it was anyone else in the room with you, it probably won’t be as uncomfortable, but it’s not.

You rock onto the balls of your heels, about to turn back around and leave, but Doyoung breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry. For what I said the other day… and for what happened.”

He utters the last part of his sentence so quietly that you can barely make it out. Half-stunned, half-confused, you stare at him. So, he does recognise you.

You steadily take step after step towards him until you’re at a normal distance for a conversation between two people, then you sit down next to him.

“I forgive you.”

“What? Like that?”

“Yeah. People are often surprised at what maturity can do for you as an adult.”

For a split second, you’d swear he was holding back a chuckle. “That coming from you?”

You twist off the lid to your water bottle to take a sip, “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

He leans back onto his hands behind him. A beat passes. “So, where’s my ‘sorry’ back?”

You set down the bottle in front of you. “If you’re expecting something back, then it wasn’t a real apology.”

He drops his head to the side to look at you. Eyes dark, a careful consideration of you sitting there next to him. Doyoung swallows tightly. There’s a steady rising and falling of his chest.

“I am really sorry. I never knew what happened after, then. I only found out when Rafael told me recently.”

“I guess I didn’t expect you to know.”

A new wave of silence washes over the two of you, only this time, it’s by degrees less uncomfortable than the last.

Doyoung lifts his palms from the ground and crosses his legs, imitating your position on the floor. With his shift in positioning, there comes a shift in energy as well.

“Obviously, I want to do well. But I don’t want to look good owing to the fact of my partner’s lack of skill…” He says with an arched brow.

“Yeah…” you tilt your head at him, “Not the most desirable pitch. Try again.”

His lips twitch in an attempt to hide his smirk from you. “I’m saying… I’m willing to put our differences aside for this one time. For both of our sakes.” He extends his hand out to you, as if to initiate a business handshake, “Deal or no deal?”

He’s dedicated. You can trust him.

You look at him, then his hand, then back at him again. Leaning forward, you fit your palm into his, “Deal.”

END OF ACT I

a/n thank you for reading part one of AWITD!! i would love any opinions or feedback on it :)

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