#<- new tag for the silly little things that happen in my life that i doodle about

[velvetwyrme]

some short warmup comics about my mom and transformers. TF One was her first time watching any transformers media and her favorite character IS in fact Bumblebee 💛

she also refers to him almost exclusively as "Bumble". the only time she calls him anything else is...

... when she calls him "Badassatron"

[not-neverland06]

forgotten promises

pt two of broken promises (I know I'm so creative with names)

bodyguard!logan howlett x fem!runaway reader

a/n: SMUT 18+ MDNI they, like, never use protection (don't be silly, sheathe your willy) but I’d like to make it 100% clear now that she has a magic uterus and there will be absolutely NO baby-making. Just rocking unprotected sex 😎👍 If you’re tagged in this, it does not mean that I am permanently adding you to my taglist. It just means I saw you in my comments/reblogs/inbox asking for a part two and this was the easiest way to let you know I made one. If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask.  Summary: Life on the road isn't exactly glamorous. Cramped spaces and too many cheap motels have you and Logan at each other's throats. You feel eyes tracking you everywhere you go but you're afraid to tell him, afraid it will be the end of the road for the both of you. One cheap bar and an explosion later and your whole life is flipped upside down.

“What are you doing?”

You glance over Logan’s shoulder at the register. The man behind it isn’t looking at either of you, just disinterestedly scrolling through his phone. 

“Isn’t this what you do?” You ask, motioning to the pack of beef jerky you’re stuffing down your jacket. 

Logan scoffs and shakes his head. “No, kid.” He takes the bag from you and rolls his eyes. 

“Well, then how do you pay for this stuff?”

“Normally, with the money I get from my jobs. But your dad wasn’t too forthcoming with my last paycheck.”

You feel that familiar burning churn of guilt roiling around in your gut. You’ve definitely added another complication to his life and it makes you feel like nothing more than a burden sometimes. “Oh, Logan, I’m sorry.”

Logan glances down at you. He gives you that familiar appeasing look, squeezing you closer, and drags you towards the register. He tosses the snacks and drinks onto the counter. The guy just barely glances up at you both. 

“Will that be all?” He asks in a tone that says he could care less. 

“Yeah,” you answer, eyes drifting towards the magazine rack. Your face is plastered on the cover of a cheap tabloid. 

LOCAL POLITICIANS DAUGHTER STILL MISSING

Exclusive interview with family on PG. 6

Your eyes go wide and you turn your face further into Logan’s chest. He gives you a confused look before his eyes are snagged by the same thing that caught your attention. 

“Why don’t you go wait in the truck?” You nod and slip out of his hold, being mindful to keep your face away from the security camera near the front. 

That keeps happening. You hadn’t thought you would have made news, but your father was making this a part of his campaign. Claiming you’d been taken by a mutant bodyguard and that he’s been praying for your safe return. “Experts” have been claiming that with no ransom demanded you’re being turned into a message for anyone who goes against mutants. 

Now, mutants despise you and everyone else thinks you’re a martyr. In a few years, you’re sure you’ll be turned into some true crime documentary where people you’ve never met before are crying over your disappearance. 

You slide into the truck and let out a deep sigh. You’d thought running away would be freeing. But even a hundred miles from him, you can still feel the cold grip of your father’s hand around your throat. 

“Twenty on pump seven,” Logan tosses the cash on the counter, eyes drifting to you in the truck. It was instinct at this point, always keeping an eye on you. Especially since one of your father’s more fanatic supporters had spotted you in a shitty diner a week ago. They’d called the cops and tried to bar you and Logan from leaving. 

It hadn’t gone over well for him. 

He’d been trying to keep you a little more hidden since then, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d gotten you out of that house to show you what real life was like, to give you a taste of freedom. 

He felt like he was no better than your father, keeping you cooped up and covered constantly. 

When the kid in front of him doesn’t say anything, Logan clears his throat. He gives him a quizzical look but the boy’s eyes are stuck on the door. 

“I swear I know her,” he mutters. Logan’s eyes drift towards the TV behind the counter and he sees an old news story of you. They’re using the footage of the acid attack, claiming you’ve always been the mutant movement’s target. 

“Can I get twenty on pump seven,” Logan repeats, voice firm. The kid finally looks at him and whatever expression Logan is wearing is enough for him to finally start moving. 

The second the receipt is in his hand he’s rushing out the door. He doesn’t know how long it’s going to take that dumbass to piece two and two together but he can’t risk dawdling. 

He fills the tank up, eyes scanning the gas station the entire time. He’s had a cloying sense of paranoia ever since the incident in the diner. He knows that at some point this little run of yours is going to come to an end. 

He doesn’t know if it’ll end with cops finding the two of you. Or if you’re going to realize the real world isn’t all that fun and leave him behind. He knows that a girl like you, one who's used to the finer things, is never going to be satisfied by the life he can offer. 

But he’s hoping that you come to your senses later rather than sooner. He’s enjoying traveling with you a lot more than he wants to admit. 

He gets in the truck, starts it up, and glances over at you. You smile, the smile that makes him feel things he doesn’t like admitting to himself or you. 

“All good?” You ask. 

He nods, driving off without a word because he doesn’t want to tell you the truth. Doesn’t want to admit what you both know to be a fact. The time you have together has an expiration date and he’s worried it’s creeping closer. 

Logan’s inside some shitty roadside motel. Whatever he’s talking about with the owner is clearly getting heated. You can see the way the anger’s growing on his face. His body is tensed up and he looks like he’s five seconds away from leaping over the counter and taking the greasy man leering at him down. 

There’s a final word exchanged between them and then Logan is storming back towards the truck. He slams the door closed so hard you’re surprised the windows don’t shatter. Normally, you sleep in the trailer. It’s not always the warmest or coziest, but you make it work. 

It’s too cold out tonight to do that and Logan doesn’t have a spare tank for the heating. He’d thought he’d had enough for a cheap room for tonight, but clearly, he doesn’t. There’s a tense silence in the truck as you mentally debate saying anything to him. 

His fists are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel you can hear it creaking. You shift, sitting up straighter in your seat and uncurling your legs. There’s a stiffness to your joints that has you groaning. It’s involuntary, ripped out of you simply because you’ve been sitting for too long. 

It catches Logan’s attention and he glances over at you. There’s a resigned sort of guilt on his face and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. He’s used to this type of lifestyle, and sometimes you think he’s embarrassed to share it with you. 

You’d never judge him for roadside motels or living off cheap gas station meals. You know you were privileged living up with the wealth you did. But there is something infinitely more satisfying about being poor and happy than there ever was being rich and miserable.

“Look, kid,” he lets out a heavy sigh and you mentally prepare yourself for what you’ve been expecting. You were a fun time, a nice ride, but you’re becoming a burden and he can’t deal with it anymore. 

You let your nails dig into the thin skin of your palms so you can attempt to ground yourself. “I need to make some money tonight, so I just need you to bear with me for a while.”

Like there is every time he doesn’t boot you to the curb, a relieved rush of air expels from your chest almost violently.  “Okay,” you say tentatively, the word dragging out while you try and understand his meaning. 

“I just,” he stops and it looks like he’s struggling to find the words to say to you. You wait patiently for him to finish, or try to at least. “There’s a bar nearby. I’ll find some work there,” his words are ominous. They give you nothing and convey so much. 

Clearly, he’s hiding something from you. You can tell that much from the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you. He pulls out of the motel’s parking lot and turns the radio on. You’ve learned that's his way of telling you he doesn’t want to talk without being a dick about it. 

You want to respect his space because you still feel like an imposter. But it’s hard. He’s being oddly cagey about this. 

The drive is short but it feels like you’ve been transported to an entirely different town than the one you were in before. He takes only backroads and middle-class homes turn into shady shops with barbed fences. Caged dogs bark at the truck as it drives by and you get a sinking feeling in your gut. 

Perhaps it’s a little classist of you to automatically assume a few low-end homes equate to a bad neighborhood. But instinctually you know something is off about this place. 

He parks in front of a run-down bar. Even from here, you can hear loud shouts and jeering coming from inside. You don’t know what’s being said but they’re certainly passionate. Logan turns towards you, the expression on his face so serious you feel like you’re about to be scolded. 

“I need you to stay here. I won’t be gone long, just an hour at most. But you need to stay in the truck.”

Your jaw gapes and you scoff at him. “Logan, an hour that’s rid-”

He cuts you off with a stern call of your name. Your mouth snaps shut and you narrow your eyes at him, teeth gritting together to keep your tongue at bay. “Stay here, I mean it. Got it?”

You nod and he repeats your name, sounding aggrieved. “Fine,” you huff. “I got it.” He lingers for a moment. You don’t know if he doesn’t trust you or is just reluctant to leave you alone. You’re reluctant to be left alone, especially in a shady dark parking lot like this. But clearly whatever is going on inside is worse than whatever could happen to you out here. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he makes this whole thing sound so grave. It makes your brows furrow and doubt churn in your gut. What could he be doing in there that’s so awful?

He gets out and you watch his form under the flickering street lamps until you can’t see him anymore. You sit quietly in the truck for at least three minutes before you already feel the boredom set in. 

You’d thought you’d be able to last longer. You used to go for hours dissociating at your father’s galas. This is different, though. You’re a little afraid to let your guard down here. 

You try to listen to music but you feel bad wasting his gas so you just turn the truck off and huddle under a blanket in the trailer. You try and let yourself fall asleep but you don’t last long. 

It’s too cold outside to really get a good rest and you can hear people moving around outside the trailer. After about an hour of rolling around and frozen limbs, you figure enough is enough. 

As much as you don’t want to provoke Logan or give him any reason to get rid of you, you can’t stay in here all night. Besides, Logan said he wouldn’t be long, you can always just lie and say you were worried about him. 

Satisfied with your excuse you leave the comfort of your blanket behind and slip into Logan’s jacket. You tuck the truck keys in your pocket and walk out into the snowy night. It’s less cold outside than it was in the trailer, you can see why he wanted a motel room for the night. 

A few people linger by the cars, smoking and muttering to themselves. You slip past them, ignoring the feeling of their eyes burning into your skin. You’re sure it's because you look like you don’t belong here. 

The noise in the bar gets louder the closer you get and it reminds you of the night Logan had snuck you out of the house. But you’d had him to lean on, right now, until you find him, you’re on your own. For all the noise coming from the building, the bar is surprisingly empty. 

Only a few old men are sitting around, drinking beers in silence. The bartender cleans glasses behind the counter, sparing you an odd look before getting back to work. There’s not very far for you to look before you figure out that Logan isn’t anywhere nearby. 

“Excuse me?” The bartender spares you a fleeting glance before barely grunting in greeting. 

The floor underneath you tremors and you glance down at it in surprise. You can hear something going on underneath. You figure that has to be where all the noises are coming from. “I’m looking for someone. Tall, mean as hell, he’s got this hair,” you swoop your hands up by the sides of your head, trying to mimic the odd fluff of Logan’s hair. 

“Downstairs.” You nod and move around the bar, trying to get to the door behind him. He reaches out, grabbing your bicep and stopping you before you can get far. “It's a forty-dollar entrance fee, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrows in confusion and you frown as you dig around in your jacket pockets. You’ve come too far to be deterred now. Ignoring the moral implications, you slip Logan’s wallet out of his jacket and give the man forty dollars. 

He nods towards the door and you give him a weak thank you as you slip past him. Opening the door is like breaking a seal. The noises bombard you almost immediately, so much clearer than they were before. 

You still can’t understand what they’re screaming but there’s a violent atmosphere slipping around you as you head down the stairs. The heady smell of cigars and cigarettes threatens to suffocate you. Your eyes water at the smoke in the air. 

You’d think you’d have gotten used to secondhand smoking after being around Logan, but he’s less inclined to hotbox the car if you’re beside him. The second your feet hit the floor you’re being jostled to the side violently by the people around you. 

It’s nearly impossible to elbow your way through the crowd, but you’re determined to figure out what’s in the middle of the cage that’s got them all excited. You can hear the people around you screaming out bets and numbers you don’t understand. 

For one nauseating moment, you think this might be a dog fighting ring, that Logan gambles on it to earn his money. It makes you want to turn around, to shield yourself from the truth. But this is something he tried to keep hidden from you and you need to know the truth about whoever you’re traveling with. 

You can hear the announcer, but you can’t get close enough to see anything yet. “Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?” There’s a resounding NO! from the crowd that makes you jump. 

A booming voice shouts over the throng of voices, “I’ll take him!” 

“Our savior ladies and gentlemen!” You shove through two men, ignoring the way they complain about how their beer sloshes on their sleeves. 

“Hey-” You glance over your shoulder as one of them reaches for you.  You flick your wrist, sending him and his friend tumbling back into the crowd. You roll your eyes and turn back towards the cage. 

Your eyes widen and so do Logan’s as you finally see what exactly is going on. He’s cage fighting, this is what he’d been so secretive about. Honestly, it’s a relief compared to the brutality you were bracing yourself for. 

You can see his lips starting to form the shape of your name but the man from before is barrelling into his side as the bell goes off. You wince, jumping away from the cage as you hear the meaty impact of his fist against Logan’s face. 

The people near you scream, shouting for Logan’s blood. It’s easy to figure out that he’s been beating everyone he’s gone up against based on some bloody faces in the crowd. It’s smart, easy money. He can always heal, and can never really be beaten, not when he’s literally got fists of steel. 

You’re surprised that no one’s ever caught onto this scam of his. You also wonder why he had been so adamant about you not seeing this. Sure, it’s brutal watching blood spray against the mat. But you don’t care. Besides, he’s ridiculously attractive in just his jeans as he pummels into some guy. 

Maybe that’s not a normal line of thinking. 

You shake your head, shelving that for later as the fight dies down. The man is limp on the mat of the cage and Logan is leaning against the wall, smoking a cigar and pointedly not looking at you. 

You feel that familiar twisting feeling in your stomach and wonder if this was a horrible idea. You should have just stayed in the car like he asked. You’re sure it would have only been another hour of tirelessly rolling around before he came back. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

He tells you so little about himself. If you get a chance to learn more, you’re going to pounce on the opportunity. Maybe it was a violation of his trust. You sincerely doubt that he would ever willingly have revealed this sort of lifestyle to you, though. 

He seems to be under the same misguided intention that you need to be sheltered. It reminds you a little of your father. That might be a cruel comparison but it’s the same suffocating feeling of being kept in the dark to suit their needs. 

The guilt you’d been holding unfurls and blossoms into anger. You find yourself retreating away from the cage and rushing back up the stairs of the bar. You don’t want to watch him fight any longer. You don’t want to look at him. 

You just want him to treat you like an equal. Not like some little girl who’s going to run at the first sign of things getting hard. 

You burst through the door of the bar, ignoring the cold laughter of the bartender behind you. He clearly seemed to think you couldn’t handle a little blood. He wasn’t the only one. 

You’re only a couple of feet from the truck when you hear footsteps loudly stomping through the snow behind you. “What the hell were you doing?” You scoff, unbelieving that he would have the gall to shout at you. 

You whirl around on him and it catches him off guard. His right foot slides against the slush as he tries to stop himself from ramming into you. “I’m not a little girl, Logan! You don’t need to hide stuff like that from me.”

He crosses his arms and glares down at you. “I wasn’t hiding anything,” he insists. But the tone of his voice gives him away. He doesn’t like that he was caught. “I don’t need to tell you jackshit about what I do for money.”

You can’t believe how he sounds right now. Why is he getting so defensive about this? “I don’t care what you do for money, alright. I just don’t get why you felt like I couldn’t know about this.” You hate the way the hurt is audible in your voice. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you try and cover it. 

In the same way, he’s masking his feelings with anger, so are you. Just with less success. Something draws across his face, some emotion you can’t discern. His voice goes cold and quiet as he shoves an envelope full of cash into your hands. 

“Go back to the motel. Get a room.”

He storms past you and walks towards the trailer. You follow after him, slightly dumbfounded by how he’s behaving. He rips his motorcycle out from the back and rolls it into a parking spot. You watch him do all this with your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. 

It’s only when he starts to head back towards the bar that you realize he’s not coming with you. “Logan!” You call out, trailing after him slightly. He barely turns back to face you. “Are you,” the words die on your tongue and you can’t find it in yourself to finish. 

Are you angry?

Are you leaving?

Are you going to ditch me at the next bus stop?

Instead of asking any of your ridiculously pining questions, you turn on your heel and storm towards the truck. You rip the door open with more force than necessary and drive off without looking back at him. But you know he watches, know he keeps an eye on you until he can’t see you anymore. 

Your rides with him are normally silent, but this one feels painfully so. 

You nearly get a room with two beds. But you feel like if you do it will be a horrendous mistake. Reluctantly, you give the man behind the counter enough for a room with one bed large enough for the both of you. 

You’re not exactly excited about sharing a bed with him, not after how he behaved tonight. You grumble to yourself as you drag your bag inside and toss it on the ground. You picture putting up a wall of pillows between the two of you, just to be petty. 

It’s as you’re showering that you realize you might not even have to. He might not come to join you tonight. He won’t know what room you’re in. And he’d made it pretty clear how pissed he was at you for sneaking into the bar. 

Maybe you’ve finally pushed him too far. You’ve been toying with the boundaries of his patience for a while. Little tests to determine whether he truly wants you around simply to have a warm body ready beside him. Or if he wants you because he genuinely cares for you. 

You suppose tonight, whether you want it or not, you’ll finally have the truth. 

The thought keeps you awake. You toss and you turn for hours, fighting with yourself. You should be happy, finally figuring out what’s been haunting you. But you’re not. You’re petrified. You’d rather keep living a lie than finally accept that he truly doesn’t want you. 

You throw the covers off, the scratchy material only further adding to your irritation. You stomp into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind you. You turn on the sink splashing some cool water over your face to try and rid yourself of the warmth lingering under your skin. You don’t know if this feeling of being uncomfortable in your own body is from pent-up anger or anxiety. 

You don’t care. You just want to sleep this night away and pretend it never happened. But, of course, the universe has other plans. The motel door creaks open as you’re hovering over the sink, debating whether or not you’re nauseous enough to throw up. 

You tilt your head slightly towards the sound. Growing up in your house, filtering through rooms like an unheard ghost, allowed you to get good at recognizing footsteps. Logan has finally decided to grace you with his presence. 

You listen to him as he creeps silently across the room, landing on the squeaky bed. You press your ear against the door and can hear the way the sheets rustle and he cusses under his breath. There’s worry staining his voice and you figure you shouldn’t drag this on much longer. 

You open the bathroom door and flip the switch, turning the lamps on like a disappointed mother waiting up for her teenager. You cross your arms mutely and lean against the doorframe as he winces under the sudden light. 

He jumps, just slightly, and glares over at you. “Thought you weren’t here,” he accuses. He tries sounding angry, but you have a sudden rush of clarity in that moment. Where you would normally focus only on him being upset with you, you can see the truth of his concern.

Same as you, he doesn’t know where he stands in this whole situation. You doubt he had a clear plan when he rescued you from your tower like some ridiculous storybook knight. He most likely thought that you left, the same way you thought he would. 

You remain silent, though, still a little too flustered to speak coherently. Instead, you examine him. There are cuts and blood all over his shirt. Splatters of it on his face. Though, you know if you looked there would be no physical evidence of him ever being hurt. 

His brows furrow the longer you stare, a wall building between the two of you. “Kid?” He questions, equal parts worried and defensive. Does he really think you actually give a fuck about him fighting?

You shake your head and walk back into the bathroom. You rustle around in the cabinet underneath the sink until you find a washcloth. Wetting it, you bring it back out to him. You station yourself between his spread legs, holding the cloth between you like a peace offering. 

He looks doubtful as he glances between you and it. Finally, he lets out a rough sigh and simply nods his head. But when he reaches for it you snatch it back, much to his chagrin. You offer him a small smile and tilt his chin up towards you, gently wiping some of the dried blood off his cheeks. 

He doesn’t flinch or hiss away from the less-than-gentle fabric. He stares at you unblinkingly, like if he closes his eyes for a moment he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream. “You don’t have to do this, kid.”

You roll your eyes and crane your neck to get a better look at him. “Would you shut up?” You whisper teasingly. 

His lips quirk slightly and you can see his shoulder slump in relief at the sound of your voice. “So, she can talk.” You can’t help the little laugh that comes out of you. He grins fully at that and his hands come up to rest on your hips. 

His thumbs rub soothing circles along the sides of your waist as his hands dip a little lower. “What are you doing?” Your hand drifts down to his neck to wipe some blood off there as well. 

He shakes his head and shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You lift your gaze to his and your lips fall flat, “Logan-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. In one smooth motion, his hands drop to wrap around your thighs. He lifts you slightly and drops you onto his lap. He grins at the slight huff of surprise that rushes out of you. 

His arms go back to your waist, pulling you closer to him and grinding you a little against him. You bite your lip to stop any noises from escaping. As much as you wouldn’t mind what he’s thinking, you need to talk. 

“Logan,” you scold. 

He smirks and tilts his head patronizingly, “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s not happening,” you tell him firmly, hand still working on cleaning him. 

He sighs and one of his arms drops away from you. He cups your hand in his, stilling your movements and forcing you to meet his gaze. Gently, he takes the cloth from you and tosses it somewhere you can’t see. “I’m fine,” he whispers, eyes searching yours. 

It’s hard meeting his gaze. The worry and anxiety from the night still weigh heavily on your shoulders. He repeats himself, fingers tilting your chin up to face him. “Alright?”

“I don’t care,” the words come rushing out of you before you can stop them. His brows raise in shock and he gives a slight chuckle of amusement. A lump grows in your throat and your eyes grow wide. “Wait, I don’t mean-”

You cut yourself off and rub your hands over your face, trying to get your head on right. Logan’s patient, rubbing your back and clearly trying not to laugh at you. You finally take in a deep breath and face him again. 

“I don’t care about the fighting,” you can see his shoulders tense slightly like he doesn’t believe you. “I don’t care, Logan. You do what you have to survive and I’m not gonna judge you for that.”

“What if I enjoy it?” He cuts you off, tone harsh as he glares down at you. There's experience in how quickly he doubts you, how quickly he tries to get you to change your mind about him.

You wonder how many times he’s been rejected just for being a mutant. You’ve only ever been rejected by one person because only he ever knew. Your father. And that hurt enough for one lifetime. 

You can’t imagine going for as long as he has and constantly being called a monster for something he can’t control. Your brows furrow and you lean into him until your lips are brushing. He remains stiff beneath you but you don’t let it deter you. 

“I don’t care,” you tell him, pressing your lips to his before slowly pulling back. You wait for him to respond, physically or verbally, but he’s still looking at you with that cold unfamiliar gaze. 

You wonder if maybe it was a mistake, to bring it up at all. But just as the thought comes he’s surging forward. His lips catch yours, his hands digging so desperately into your shirt you know it rips. 

Your arms go to his neck, holding onto him so you don’t slip off his lap. You haven't been this close for a few days. You think it might have made you both feel on edge. There’s a relief that comes from not just having sex with him, but also just being intimate and close to one another. 

It’s a reminder that you’re not alone, that there’s someone here beside you to be a partner and a pillar of stability. You’ve never had that before. Someone that you can rely on and trust fully. You don’t think he has either. 

He craves you the same way you do him. Each kiss, every shared breath, is treated like it will be your last. You don’t know when your father will finally catch up to the two of you. You don’t know when the police might finally recognize Logan. 

There’s no definitive future for either of you. It’s a real possibility that this could be your last night together. And neither of you wants to be upset with each other. Because you were never truly mad. You were always just worried. 

Your hands drop to his shirt, dipping to find the holes in it from his fight and ripping at the flimsy fabric until you can just yank it off. He smiles against your lips at the eager way you move atop him. But he can’t tease you, he’s already annoyed with the buttons on your shirt. 

He pulls back, glaring down at the fabric like it's insulting him. Without another word, he slices through it, leaving it in tatters on your shoulder. You grin, shrugging the rest of it off. “That was yours.”

He grips your hips tightly and leaves marks where his fingers are as a reminder that he was here. He flips you over, leaves you breathless as he hovers over you. “I really don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

You’re addicted to his voice. How breathy and desperate it is when he’s with you. It’s a level of vulnerability you rarely get to see from him. He can’t hide himself when he’s with you like this. He wants you just as badly as you do him. 

It gives you a confidence rush like no other, makes your ego grow ten times its size. If you can make a man like this fall to his knees from nothing more than a kiss, then you’re capable of a lot more than you give yourself credit for. 

But you don’t want that tonight. You reach for him before he can go much further, grabbing him by his hair and tugging until you know it stings. He nearly fucking moans at your rough touch, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The green of them has been wholly consumed by his desire for you and it makes you ache for him. 

“Not tonight,” you tell him. There’s no room for argument in your tone. As much as he might want to taste you, devour you, all you want is to be as close to him as possible. You want to be covered and filled by him in every way you can be. 

His head falls against your thigh, a rough groan tumbling from his throat at your words. You drag him towards you, pulling him up your body until you’re face to face. You smile softly up at him, lifting your head so you can meet his lips again. 

You’ll never get enough of kissing him, of tasting him. Sometimes you have to stop yourself from reaching across the seats and kissing him while he drives. You’ve nearly made him wreck a few times and forced him to pull over so you could both have some fun in the back. 

Addiction isn’t the right word for what you feel for him. It brings along its own negative connotations. The taint of dependency and toxicity. With addiction, it’s a parasitic relationship, hurts you but makes you feel good. 

This is just goodness. This is a kind touch for the first time in your life and finally feeling safe in someone elses arms. This is opening yourself up to him fully and not once feeling like you need to mold yourself into something else to make him happy. It’s accepting him as he is, a broken dog who likes to fight to punish himself. You don’t want to change him or make him “better.” You just want him to be happy. 

You use your powers to help yourself, flipping him over and straddling his hips. You drag his jeans down his legs and flick your wrist, sending them flying somewhere across the room. He watches you with eyes filled with awe, hands drifting over your curves like something to be worshipped. 

You know he’s waiting for it, for you to sink yourself down on him and finally be filled. But you wait, hover over him even as the muscles of your thighs tremor. “You don’t hide things from me anymore,” you warn him. You’re not asking, for once, you’re demanding what you want. 

He doesn’t look angry like you’d been expecting. Instead, it only seems to turn him on more. “Ya know,” his hands drift to your hips, dragging you down and over his cock until it’s wet with your want. Your nails dig into his chest until there’s blood beading under them and you’re trying not to let your noises slip out. 

“I kinda like it when you’re all bossy like this.” 

“Logan,” you grit his name out. It takes everything in you not to look as affected by him as you feel. “No more hiding shit.”

He leans up on his elbows. His hand drifts to the nape of your neck and drags you down until your lips are nearly touching his. “Yeah, I got it, sweetheart.”

Like a taut rope being cut, you sink into him, your hips finally drop and he guides you down every inch of him until you feel like you’re so full you can’t breathe. He lets you linger for a moment, and get used to this feeling while he steals the very air from your lungs. 

He’s greedy with the way he touches you. His hands always moving like he’ll never fully be satisfied with how much of you he can feel. He’s always reaching for you like he needs to make sure you’re actually real and not just something he’s dreamt up. 

Even with how impatient he is, you’re always the one that moves first. You roll your hips over him, moaning at how he feels inside you. It’s like he’s perfectly molded you around him. He always manages to brush against the spots that make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

The second your hips begin to roll, he’s wrapping his heavy arms around you, grinding you down into him. He keeps you trapped in place, using you like a toy as he bounces you on his lap. Your mind is fuzzy, every bad thought and feeling shoved out while he makes you go dumb on his dick.

You love how boneless you go. You don’t have to think now, don’t have to worry. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, shifting yourself further on top of him until you're practically burying yourself under his skin. 

Not thinking always comes with its own consequences, though. Your powers slip a little out of your grasp. The walls trembling and the drawers and cabinets opening and closing. The both of you have gotten used to the noise, know how to drown it out, and just focus on each other. 

One of these days, you’ll need to figure out a way to have sex with him without bringing the room down around you. That’s a problem for later though. His whispered praises and grunts of your name filter through your mind until there’s nothing left inside you but him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in your ear, “you’re so fucking tight around me. You close?” He grunts, hand drifting down to rub tight circles on your clit. You dig your nails into his shoulders, nodding your head frantically against his neck. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you can barely think of your own damn name. Let alone what you want from him. “Fuck off,” you hiss. He chuckles at the attitude and you almost expect him to stop, just to be a dick because you were a brat. 

But he’s just as close as you are and he’s too selfish to tease. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes down on you as your body shakes against his. He follows quickly after you, warmth shooting up inside you and almost leaking down your thighs. You feel stuffed, like your body’s been pushed to the limit and further. 

You both sit together in silence for a while. You ignore the way your skin sticks to his uncomfortably, instead reveling in the warmth he provides you. Anyone else, and you’d be rushing to get away from them. 

You’re always extra sensitive after sex, every little thing setting you off. But there’s a comfort to the way his hairy ass chest brushes against your breasts and his arms squeeze around you. It’s a nice grounding feeling. 

The tips of your fingers drift over his arms, following the path of his veins and brushing against his fingers lazily. He flips his palm over, encasing your hand in his own wordlessly. Little things like that ease your worries. Makes you feel like something more than just a quick fuck. 

He breaks the silence first, which is rare for him. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

You frown and peer up at him. “I told you, I don’t care about the fighting.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Not that. I shouldn’t have gotten so fucking mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You want to interrupt him, assure him that you both acted pretty childishly. 

But you understand it’s difficult for him to express himself verbally. He usually prefers silent acts of apologies and expression, you don’t want to mess him up before he can get out what he wants to say. 

“I don’t want to be like your father.” Your face screws up a little and you shift uncomfortably on his lap. He loosens his grip, giving you room to leave if you want to, but you stay put. “I’m trying not to coddle you, sweetheart, or hide you away from the world. But I don’t like you seeing that shit.”

“You’re not my dad, Logan. He wouldn’t give me a choice,” you try and joke but it just seems to make him more irritated. Sighing you straighten up, bracing yourself on his chest and staring down at him. 

Your head tilts to the side in contemplation and he almost looks uncomfortable under the attention. “I’m not so fragile or sheltered that I’m going to shatter at the first taste of the real world, Logan. I mean, for god’s sake, I’ve had acid thrown at me and bodyguards since I could walk. I know how dangerous it is. Whatever you want to hide from me, I’ve seen worse.”

You let your words sink in for a moment and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. You know that it’s odd for him, to comprehend a girl who was afraid to go into a bar swallowing down an illegal fighting ring like it’s nothing. But you’re not lying. Everyday little things are what you’re unused to. But you’ve lived alongside violence your whole life. 

“Look, fighting, sleeping in shitty motels, and your truck, that doesn't bother me. But I don’t like when you hide things and I don’t,” you take in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. This is what you’ve been trying to tell him for weeks. 

A few little words have your tongue tied and make you desperate to cover yourself up again. He can see the shift in your expression, and feel how tense you get. He sits up a little more, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand. 

“I don’t want to just be someone to fuck you, Logan. I didn’t come with you so you’d have easy access pussy,” he looks thoroughly amused at your crude words, but there’s something else lingering in his expression. Something like hurt. 

“Is that what you think?” He asks, tone distant. You can’t find the words so you simply nod. He sighs and shakes his head. He eases you off his lap and you worry you’ve truly fucked this up somehow. 

He goes into the bathroom, returns with a wet washcloth. He still doesn’t speak and you’re on edge the entire time he cleans the both of you up. You can see he’s thinking, biting his tongue, and trying to figure out what it is that he wants to say to you. 

You’re impatient, five seconds away from just demanding a response from him. He tosses the cloth and drops into bed beside you. You draw the sheets up to your chest, glaring down at him while he rubs his hands over his face with a tired sigh. 

When he opens his eyes again he laughs at how close you are. “Jesus,” he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging you down into his chest even though you fight him. It must be easier for him to speak when you’re not staring at him. 

“I didn’t go back for you so I could fuck you, kid. I… care about you,” there’s a long pause before he says the word care. You think it’s funny, that he can’t bring himself to admit what he actually feels. But you’ll take it, you’ll give him the time he needs to come to terms with the truth. 

For now, you let yourself fall asleep, feeling just a little bit better about the road ahead. 

Things get easier between the two of you. And somehow harder at the same time. You don’t walk on eggshells around each other, no longer afraid of scaring the other off now. Which also means that you find it easier to bicker with him about little things. Like, not just tossing his trash everywhere in the truck. You’re practically living out of the trailer, the least he could do is help you keep it tidy. 

You know it’s weird for him. Suddenly having someone nag at him not to be a slob or to take breaks in between driving so he doesn’t wear himself out. It’s an adjustment you see him struggle with sometimes. 

You try not to be too pushy, but there’s only so many times you can flick crumbs from his burgers off your seat before you lose it. “Logan!” You snap, glaring at him as you stand up only to find chip crumbs squished into the fabric of your leggings. 

He glances over at you and shrugs, “What?” 

You glance between the crumbs and him with a glare but he doesn’t seem to be connecting the dots. “Fucks sake,” you grumble, passive-aggressively wiping the truck seat off before you slam the door and storm towards the diner. 

You’re sick of being cramped in the truck. You’re sick of the greasy food. You’ve begun to crave salads lately. Which is beyond weird. But the novelty of shitty food and milkshakes wore off a hundred miles ago. 

Logan catches up to you, huffing with irritation as he swings the door open for you. You take a seat in the booth near the corner, snatching up the menu and pointedly staring at it and not him. “Really?” He demands. When you don’t answer he tips the menu down, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What is your problem?” He hisses, trying not to draw attention to you both. 

You lean in, voice a harsh whisper. “How hard is it to just not make a mess? We live out of that damn truck, the least you could do is keep your crumbs on your side.”

He rolls his eyes and leans back in the booth. You’re both sick of having the same fight. But there’s really nothing else to do anymore. When you’re stuck together for so long, it’s the small things that get to you. 

You’re going to say more but the waitress pops in front of you out of nowhere. “Hi!” She beams and gives you her name, the bows in her hair trembling at how hyper she is. “What can I get you both today?”

You and Logan place your orders, and he shoots you an odd look when you only order the salad. “We’ve got a couple more hours ahead of us, you’re gonna get hungry.”

You cross your arms and shrug, “No, I won’t.”

He licks his lips, sucking on his teeth and leaning against the table. “Yes, you will,” he argues with a stern voice. 

You narrow your eyes at him and give him a bitter smile. “Kiss. My. Ass.”

Your stomach grumbles for the third time and you know that Logan can hear it. You’re pointedly not making eye contact with him. It feels like it's louder than the music at this point and you really don’t want to prove him right. 

Without a word, he begins to dig around in the center console. You glance towards him, confused, “What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t say anything, just tosses whatever he’s grabbed onto your lap. You glance down at it and frown. It’s somehow cold as you unwrap it. You pull the parchment paper away and let out a relieved sigh. 

He ordered you a wrap from the diner without you realizing. You take a bite, your hunger steadily easing away. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, pointedly looking out the window. 

He glances over at you and scoffs. “What was that? Couldn’t hear ya, kid.” 

You roll your eyes and turn to glare at him. He’s already looking at you, a teasing tilt to his lips. “I said I’m sorry,” you snap. “I shouldn’t have been a bitch.”

He shakes his head and waves you off. “I haven’t exactly been pleasant myself. I’ll,” he huffs lowly and forces the words out, “clean up more.”  

“I think we’ve just been stuck on the road too long. We’re gonna end up driving each other insane.”

His eyes glance along the signs on the highway. There’s a notice for food and shopping at the next exit and he nods towards it. “We’ll stop at a motel for a few nights. Take a break.” You want to ask him if he’s sure that’s smart. 

It seems risky, to slow down for so long. But you need to walk around, breathe fresh air, and stretch your legs. You’re too selfish to tell him not to stop and keep going. Instead, you nod and smile at him. “That sounds really nice.”

He gives you a slight smile that’s gone as quickly as it came, reaching over and resting his hand on your thigh. You move closer to him and he turns the radio up. You wonder why he doesn’t want to talk anymore but you don’t push it. You’re too excited to finally get out of the truck again. 

The town is nice enough. It’s small, with only a few shops where you buy some new shirts to replace one’s that Logan has torn up. The motel you’re staying at doesn’t have a washing machine so you have to use the laundromat to wash your clothes. 

Logan says he’s going to see if he can find a quick job nearby. You wonder if that means a real job or a more bloody one. You decide not to ask questions, instead taking the little change you have and figuring you’ll try to get the smell of grease out of all your clothes. 

As you load the machine up and put your quarters in you can’t escape the feeling of someone watching you. You’ve been on high alert ever since Logan stole you away from the house. But this is different. 

You’ve gotten used to your own paranoia, you know when it’s real or not. You walk away from the machine, glancing out at the glass walls near the front and trying to see if there’s someone out there. This, oddly enough, doesn’t feel like a police stakeout where they’re going to track you back to the motel and bust Logan. 

This is something different. There is a deep-seated primal fear in you that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart races as your eyes search the dark street outside. What little glow comes from the streetlights isn’t enough for you to clearly make anything out. 

But you feel them, tracking your every move. They’re somewhere nearby, you can’t see them but they see you. You feel sick to your stomach. You glance at the door before racing towards it. You turn the lock, slowly backing away and keeping your eyes trained on the street. 

You look into the shadows and find shapes and movements where there are none. Your eyes spin as your brain crafts a horrible image of some monster waiting outside for you. When the timer for the washer goes off you let out a sharp scream, spinning around and clutching your chest as you glare at it. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, angrily running your hand over your face and trying to catch your breath. You put the clothes in the dryer and by the time you're done, the feeling is gone. You don’t know if they were never there to begin with, or if they got bored and left. 

You’d told Logan that you didn’t need a ride, you’d just walk the short distance back to the motel. Now, you use the phone on the front counter and call him, telling him you’ve changed your mind after all. 

By the time he picks you up, he looks incredibly concerned. You know you sounded panicked when you called him. You still feel upset about the whole thing. But when he asks what’s wrong you just tell him you got a little scared walking back in the dark. 

You don’t tell him someone was watching you because you know he’ll make you pack up and leave again. You want some stability. Even if it's just for a week. So, as stupid as it is, you lie to him and say everything’s fine. 

When you try to go to sleep that night you feel like you’re being watched again. Even with the curtains closed their eyes burn into you. You toss and turn under the heavy weight of the sheets, struggling to get comfortable. 

There’s a low grumble behind you before Logan throws his arm over your waist and tugs you back into his chest. “Stop movin’ around,” he demands, his voice barely audible. You smile a little at how tired he sounds before forcing yourself to settle down. 

He doesn’t give you much choice, using his body as a weight to keep you pinned. You still feel their gaze, even more now, but his proximity brings you enough comfort to get a little bit of restless sleep. 

Logan’s up before you, he always is. He comes in with cheap coffee and free breakfast from the lounge. You push the sheets off your legs, your shirt sticking to your back from the cold sweat of your nervous sleeping. You feel a little more at ease this morning. 

You wonder if you’re developing some late-in-life fear of the dark. You don’t know why you were so upset last night, you feel perfectly fine now. It’s almost like it was all one bad dream. Logan walks over, handing you the coffee wordlessly and rustling around in your bag for something. 

He pulls out the envelope of cash you keep stashed away and frowns at the contents. “Found a job,” he mutters, stuffing the envelope away and turning back towards you. He leans against the desk, face pensive. 

You rub your eyes, trying to wake yourself up a bit more so you sound coherent. “What is it?” You take a sip of the coffee and your face screws up at the aftertaste. 

“Fighting,” his tone is clipped and you wonder what’s got him up in arms. He walks past you, heading into the bathroom, and closing the door behind him. You tilt your head, gaze following him curiously. He doesn’t normally close the door, he usually likes to invite you to join him. 

Something happened and you wonder if he’s hiding the same thing you are. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and closing your mind off to the fear from last night. 

By the time Logan is done in the bathroom, you’re feeling more awake. You can’t just dismiss what happened last night. You’ve never gotten scared like that before. You refuse to ignore your instincts, but you’re also not going to let whoever that was terrify you into going back on the road. 

You don’t want things between you and Logan to grow more tense than they already are. The time away from each other yesterday helped a lot. You no longer want to strangle him when you hear him breathe. You’ll just stick closer to him today and see if you feel the eyes on you again tonight. 

“So,” you start, testing the waters to see if he’s still in a bad mood. He glances over at you, eyebrows quirked in curiosity but you’re tongue-tied as you stare at him. However many weeks you’ve been with him and you’re never gonna get used to seeing him straight out of the shower. 

The towel is draped low on his hips, giving you a taunting look at what lies underneath the white cloth. Droplets drip down his abs and you’ve never wanted to be water more than you do right now. It’s unfair, just how attractive he is. 

You always forget what you’re going to say. You can’t think when he has a shirt off, it’s infuriating. Scoffing, you turn away from him and shake your head. You hear him chuckle, you know he knows what you’re thinking about. 

“What’s wrong?” He creeps up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you back into his chest. 

“Logan, dammit,” water soaks into the back of your shirt uncomfortably and you tilt your head to glare at him. 

He smirks down at you, “Cat got your tongue, kid?”

You roll your eyes and push away from him. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” You snatch a shirt from the dresser and shove it into his hands. “Put this on.”

He scoffs and gives you a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?” You wait for him, gaze expectant. You’re not gonna be able to think when he looks like this. Sighing, he acquieses and tugs the shirt on. His lips fall into a sarcastic line, “Happy?”

Like a switch being flipped you finally remember what you were going to ask him. “The job you told me about. Where is it?”

You can see on his face how little he wants to divulge that information to you. But you know he’s going to tell you. You two made a deal not to hide things, although, you might be breaking your side of that right now. 

“Some shitty bar a few miles from here. Listen-”

You’re not gonna like it. 

I don’t want you tagging along. 

You should just stay here and read or some shit.

You wonder which one he’ll pick today. “You wouldn’t like it, it’s just a shitty little place where I can make some quick cash.” Look at that, it’s rarely ever your first pick excuse. You must be getting better at reading him. 

“I’ll come with you,” you tell him because you’re not asking. You’re not staying by yourself tonight and you both need the money. You grin at him even as his face falls in disappointment. “Maybe I’ll fight.”

He doesn’t even say anything and you immediately regret what you said. The look he’s giving you would put you six feet under if it could. “It was just a joke,” you mutter.

“Wasn’t funny, kid,” he tells you, tone clipped as he moves around you to grab his jeans. “I don’t even want you in those places, let alone fuckin’ fighting.”

You purse your lips and take a seat on the bed, handing him his jacket when he begins looking for it. “I have abilities too, you know. Maybe I could win a fight.”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “I win because I can take the hits people deal me. You can’t,” you don’t bother arguing with him that you heal too. You understand what he means. You might be able to recover physically, but there’s a mental aspect to being knocked on the ground. There’s humiliation and fear in cage fights, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle that side of it. 

He waits for you to say anything else but when he realizes you’ve dropped the subject he lets out a relieved sigh. “You’ll stay in the truck,” he tries. 

You give him a deadpan look, slipping the keys out of your purse and handing them to him. “No way in hell, but I’ll stay by the bar if it makes you feel better.” He stays silent and nods but you know he’ll try and convince you otherwise when you actually get to the place. Tough luck, though, you don’t think it’s safe for either of you to be apart tonight. Even if it’s just staying in the truck. 

The setup of these places is always the same. Though, this bar seems to be particularly disgusting in comparison to other ones you’ve been to. You position yourself near the corner, your back to the wall so you’re less likely to be noticed in the crowd. 

The fights never last more than a few minutes. And that’s if Logan is feeling generous. Most of the time you only need to be here an hour before people get pissed off and go home. Someone bumps into you and you hear a small, “I’m sorry,” before they rush to claim a stool. 

The crowd’s already begun to die out. Most leave while they still have a little money left in their pockets. You duck your head down, catching the eye of the girl who’d bumped into you. She looks young and incredibly skittish. Her eyes keep darting to the tip jar near the bartender. 

She quietly asks for water but the bartender just shakes his head, tugging the jar closer to him. You don’t know why you’re drawn to her, maybe it’s because she looks like one of those sad pound puppies, but you take a seat beside her. 

“Water,” you order, slipping him some change. When he gives it to you, you pass it off to her, spotting the greedy way she eyes it. You know a runaway when you see one, she clearly needs a little help. But Logan’s got enough on his shoulders, you’re not gonna bug him with adding another person to the mix. 

“Thank you,” she gulps it down like she hasn’t drunk anything in days. You feel your stomach twist with empathy. What little cash you have in your wallet, you slip into her bag as you pass by her. Logan will have made enough for it to be spared and it's the least you can do. 

Not everyone is as lucky as you to have someone help them navigate a new life. 

Logan grabs his jacket, wiping blood off from under his nose and heading towards you. You know he’ll want a drink before you go, he always does. Before he can say anything someone’s shouting the name he uses in the cage. “Hey, Wolverine! I want my fucking money back.”

The big man he’d knocked down earlier takes a step towards him. His friend tries to hold him back, but there’s no stopping him. He’s already had his ass kicked once, what makes him think this is going to be any different?

“Not your money anymore, bub.” Logan scoffs and turns back towards you. You just want to leave now. You don’t want to stay for a drink or go get something to eat. You feel the eyes on you again, but when you turn to find them there’s no one there but the girl. 

And she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are wide and staring at something else. “Behind you!” She screeches, and both you and Logan whirl around to find the man barreling towards him with a knife outstretched. 

Logan moves so quickly that you stumble back slightly. He grabs the guy's arm, twisting his wrist until the knife drops to the ground. He shoves him back against the wall, claws out and pinning him there.

“Shit,” you whisper, glancing around as the few patrons of the bar stare in horror at Logan. The people counting his money stop and tuck it back into the cash box. You clench your eyes shut in irritation, he’s not gonna be getting paid tonight, that’s for sure. 

There’s a strange noise behind you, like someone cocking a gun. You turn around slowly, gasping when you see the bartender pointing the barrel of his shotgun at your chest. He’s not aiming it at Logan, he’s aiming it at you. Like he somehow knows that’s the only way to get him to back off. 

It’s not like he was going to kill the guy, besides, he came at him with a knife first. What’s the difference if Logan’s a mutant? He’s defending himself. Why does no one understand that?

“Get out of my bar,” the old man warns lowly, taking a step closer to you. Logan turns around and finally spots what’s going on. 

“Pay me and I’ll be on my way.” You know you’d be able to heal from the shotgun blast, but you don’t exactly want to go through it. 

The old man laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not getting paid, buddy. Get the fuck out of my bar before I put a hole in your little girlfriend.”

Your eyes narrow in disbelief. You debate with yourself for a moment, if this is smart or not. But the guy’s being a prick and you’re sick of people treating mutants like they’re less than nothing. You flick your wrist and the shotgun goes flying out of his hand. 

You glance over at the cashbox and it comes floating towards you, landing easily in your outstretched palm. “Be thankful I’m not blowing a hole in you,” you warn, glaring at the cowering man. You walk forward and he stumbles back and you try not to focus on the sick feeling of satisfaction it brings you. You grab the tip jar and shove it towards the girl at the end of the bar. “Good luck, kid.”

Logan releases the man from the before, taking a step towards you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and rush towards the exit of the bar. You need to just get the fuck out of this town as quickly as possible, you’re not safe here anymore. 

Logan seems to agree with you. He gets into the truck and doesn’t turn back to the motel. Instead, he turns onto the highway while you keep your eyes peeled on the trees outside your window. There’s someone out there, still following you. 

“Something’s wrong with the suspension,” you glance up from where you’d been working on breaking open the cashbox and frown. Logan’s glaring down at the steering wheel, it seems like he’s struggling to get it to turn properly. 

“What?”

He scoffs and glares at you, “How should I know?” He pulls over to the side of the road, opens his door, and lets in a rush of cool air and snow. You toss the cashbox to the back of the trailer and follow after him. 

He goes to where he’s pulling his motorcycle and you feel like you notice an extra bump under the tarp. “What’s that?” You take a step towards it just as Logan pulls it back. You have to bite back a laugh when you see the girl from last night curled up next to his motorcycle. 

She gives you both guilty looks and slowly sits up. “I’m sorry,” Logan offers her a hand and she gets out of the trailer. He grabs her bag and drops it at her feet. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Find a different ride,” he growls, already heading back to the truck. You open your mouth, prepared to argue, but you can’t force her on him. As much as you might want to help her. She’s better off away from the two of you.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” She snaps at him, a little attitude finally showing through. 

“Yep!” He gets in the truck and you know he wants to drive off immediately but he has to wait for you. You shoot her an apologetic look as you follow after him, slipping into the seat beside him. He starts the engine, driving off slowly, eyes drifting towards the rearview mirror. 

You bite your tongue, trying not to point out how cruel he is leaving her on a snowy highway in the middle of nowhere. He glances over at you, “What?” He snaps. 

You shake your head and shrug. “Nothing.” You’ve barely finished speaking before he’s slamming on his brakes. 

“God dammit,” he mutters, running a hand over the stubble on his jaw. You can’t help the grin on your face, reaching over to open your door. It doesn’t take long for the girl to catch on, scooping up her bag and chasing after you. 

“You’re such a softie,” you tease him. 

“Shut the hell up.”

Rogue is nice, if not a little odd. She claims to be a mutant too but doesn’t want to give specifics on her abilities. You don’t want to push her but you are curious about the gloves she wears. “What kind of name is Wolverine?” She asks, spotting Logan’s tags. 

He glances over at her and smiles slightly, “What kind of a name is Rogue?”

She goes to say something but you throw your arm out, holding her back as you shout, “Logan, watch out!” He tries to hit his brakes in time but the tree’s already coming down. The truck slams into it and it’s like time slows down, only for a moment. 

You can feel the impact of your body against the windshield, the glass dragging along your scalp and skin. It’s like a million razors each slicing into you. And then, you’re flying through the air, head snapping so hard against the ground you can’t see anything. 

You hear something happening around you, a roar that doesn’t sound human echoing through the air. There’s the sound of metal crunching and someone is screaming in the distance but you can’t see. It’s not like a total void of darkness, there’s just nothing. 

You feel the blood slowly leaking down the back of your skull and something lands harshly against your head. You don’t think much time has passed. When your eyes finally open, however, you’re not lying on the pavement. 

The world around you is foreign. It smells like a hospital but it’s not like any you’ve ever seen. X-rays are hanging on the wall and paperwork is scattered on a desk near the bed you’re lying on. 

Your mind is blank for a moment. Slowly turning back on while you process the sudden change of scenery. You don’t even remember closing your eyes, you don’t know when your vision came back to you or how long you’ve been here. 

The terror sets in quickly. You throw the blankets off your legs, staring down at the pajamas you wear in disgust. Someone had changed you. They’d run tests and done X-rays on you and you don’t remember a second of it. 

You rip the needle out of your arm, tossing it to the floor and running towards the door. Your feet slip on the metal floors as you run but you’re afraid to stop. Everything around you looks more and more like a lab. 

Did someone from the bar call some government agency? You’ve heard horror stories from your father about the tests the military has run on mutants. You’re starting to worry that’s what's happening to you. 

But you doubt the military would make it so easy for you to escape. This has to be something else. You’d heard other voices when you’d been lying on the ground. People who had been trying to help. Could that be who took you?

“You caught on quicker than your friend.” You nearly fall flat on your face, flipping around to see who spoke. But no one’s there. You’re completely alone. “I’m just grateful you didn’t choke out one of my associates.” it’s coming from beside you now. 

It’s all around you, the voice floating through the walls until you think he might be in your mind. “Much faster than your friend,” he sounds gleeful and it makes you even more anxious. “I’m a telepath, darling, nothing to fear. If you’d just take that elevator and come up to meet me.”

You’d have to be an idiot to actually listen to the voices in your head. But you don’t see another way out of here. So, reluctantly, you follow the floating voice’s instructions and slip inside the elevator. 

When the door opens up again you don’t have a chance to step inside before someone’s pushing you back. Logan stands in front of you, hands clamped tightly around your shoulders while he looks you over. 

You sink into his arms, hugging him tightly to you. You’d been terrified you were all alone here. It’s more than a relief to see him again. “You’re okay?” He asks, pulling back to look at you one last time. 

You nod, throat too dry to try and form a coherent sentence. You glance over his shoulders brows furrowed at the people awkwardly watching you reunite. There’s a man in a wheelchair smiling at you, “Ah, glad you could make it.” The floating voice, of course. “Logan here was quite worried about you.”

Logan turns to glare at the man and you offer a slight smile. There is something comforting about him. You’re not exactly threatened by an old guy in a wheelchair. The redhead behind him, however, is bugging you. Something about the way she’s looking at Logan doesn’t sit right with you. 

“Welcome to my school for the exceptionally gifted,” something about the way he says that makes you tilt your head in confusion. You don’t know what he means until there’s a puff of smoke behind him and some kid is walking by with their hair on fire like it’s nothing. 

Mutants. It’s an entire school for mutants. You think you could pass out again. 

“It’s the best place we could have ended up, Logan. This is amazing.” You’ve been going back and forth for an hour. He won’t see reason. He keeps saying you need to leave. That you don’t know these people and it could all be one big trap. 

You don’t understand him, why he’s so desperate to get away from people like the both of you.  You’re rejected in every other corner of society. You could have something real here. 

It hits you at once. That’s the problem. He’s not ready for something real. He’s not used to it because he’s never had it before. At least you could pretend at a sense of normalcy living at home. It’s an entirely new concept to him, sticking to one place for so long. 

“We don’t know these people,” he hisses, leaning over the bed to argue with you. You narrow your eyes but your conversation is cut off by a knock on the door. You sigh, walking away from him and swinging the door open. 

Jean is on the other side, a surprised look on her face when she sees you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to drop these off to Logan.” You glance down at the towels in your hand and give her a strained smile. That’s a flimsy excuse if you’ve ever seen one. “I must have the wrong room.”

You step to the side, opening the door wider so she can see him. He doesn’t even look at her, too busy angrily unmaking the bed. “No, you have the right one.” You hold your hands out expectantly, “I can just take those for you.”

The look on her face is priceless and finally causes a real smile to grow on your lips. She wordlessly hands you the towels, looking disappointed. You don’t know if it's because of what she was trying to do, or because she couldn’t do it. 

Before she leaves you call out a quick, “Tell Scott I said thank you again. Wouldn’t be here without him, after all.” Her shoulders tense and she rushes back down the hall. Whatever little crush or interest she has with Logan is going to need to be dealt with on her own. 

You’ve got enough shit going on without having to worry about her too. You shake your head and slam the door shut, tossing the towels on the desk. Logan sits on the bed, watching you with an odd look. 

“What was that about?”

“She’s into you,” you tell him bluntly, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t even blink, just glances between the towels and you before shrugging. 

“Not interested.” You don’t want to admit that you feel any relief. There was never any real doubt. But it’s still nice to be reassured. 

You slip into bed beside him, taking his hand and forcing him to meet your gaze. “I know that this isn’t what either of us was expecting, but this is good, Logan. We don’t have to worry about pretending we’re something we’re not. We don’t have to worry about my dad or anyone finding us.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced. But he lets out a heavy sigh and drags you closer to him. He tucks your head under his chin, placing a brief kiss against your forehead. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay. But I’m not putting on that fucking costume.”

You laugh a little, peering up at him with a grin, “Deal.” 

There’s a place for you here, even if there isn’t in the rest of the world. You can be safe here, you don’t have to worry anymore. You don’t have to fear the eyes on the back of your head because they can’t get you here. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allilium @insomniachox  ♡ 

Asked for part two: @enchantedbutterflies @strawberrylore @ittoscumdump @enananawoah @wotcherboo

@cali0101 @fluffy-b33z @pcrushinnerd @izbelross @saltwaterburns

@likeficsinthewnd ♡ 

[joekeeryswife]

arranged marriage 1 - f.c

hey honeys! i hope you enjoyed my last imagine. writing for Felix legit has me in a chokehold. dickhead!felix (im sorry!) mean reader at the start then she turns sweet, i also suck at endings so please ignore how bad it is and the spelling mistakes lol.

anyways, here’s another angst to fluff imagine, Felix is 22 and reader is 20! enjoy reading 🩰

taglist🩰 (add yourselves here): @hummusxx @lalademie @kikiandbella @anamiad00msday @saltburntt @livvy256 @gee72sstuff please make sure your @ are on otherwise i cannot tag you!!

“mum seriously? Felix? as in the only person i absolutely hate with a passion Felix?” your mum rolled her eyes at your outburst. it wasn’t a shock to her that you were mad, you and Felix had grown up together but for some reason the two of you never got along. your parents had grown up together and had obviously been planning this for some time.

“i’m sorry sweetheart but yes, it will be good for the two of you to finally get along, he is a really sweet boy you know” you huffed “we could get along without getting married? i mean, i’m only 20 years old. i have my whole life ahead of me to get married” you ran a hand through your hair.

“why do i not get a say in this? shouldn’t i be able to say yes or no to this?” you were frustrated, you hated Felix. and no marriage certificate was ever going to change that. “stop being silly y/n. Elspeth is so excited to have you as a daughter in law, she loves you” your mum tried to end it there but you were not giving up.

“dad please tell her she is being irrational, there is no way you have agreed to this as well” you looked over at your dad “i’m sorry honey but i have agreed and so has the Catton family. you have no idea how good this would be for us, you will be bringing two very strong bloodlines together” you wanted to scream.

marrying Felix was the worst possible thing to probably ever happen in your life. Felix was an asshole to you, rude, snobby and ignorant. he thought he was this incredible man but in reality he was just a bastard, and you would be marrying him? you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

“i’m sure the two of you will get along just fine, you’re being a little dramatic honey. you’re going to have a beautiful dress, a beautiful ceremony, it’ll be amazing. and Felix is a very a handsome boy and you are a gorgeous girl, your kids will be absolutely perfect” you choked on your saliva

“kids? mum are you joking? i’m begging you, please don’t force me to marry him, my life will be a misery” your mum shook her head. “enough. this is final. you will marry Felix, end of story” your dad said making you and your mum look at him. you did not ever think that you would be in an arranged marriage with Felix Catton.

“now, get ready darling, we are going to saltburn to celebrate” this was going to be hell.

-♡-

“Felix darling, will you come here for a moment please?” Felix heard his mother call out as he walked past the living room. he saw his mum and dad sat on the sofa next to each other with huge smiles on their faces. he walked into the living room and sat on the sofa opposite the two of them “should i be worried?” he said jokingly, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“no of course not” his mum laughed. “we have some news for you which you may not like the sound of at first, but, i think the idea will grow on you” his dad said, excitement filling his voice.

“we have been speaking to y/n’s parents” Felix rolled his eyes at the mention of your name. “and we have all collectively decided that it’s time for the two of you to finally know that you will be getting married” Elspeth squealed in excitement.

his jaw dropped “isn’t that amazing? oh god it’s so nice for the secret to finally be out” his father seemed just as ecstatic as his mother.

“you are joking right?” his mothers smile faltered “no, it’s not, you two are getting married. oh i am so thrilled Felix, we have been planning this for ages and now that you both know i think it’s really set it in stone.” he shook his head at her.

“no, absolutely not. i’m sorry but there is no way in hell that i am marrying y/n” he shook his head and laughed. “this is bullshit, we fucking hate each other, why the fuck would you two even think that is a good idea?” he felt sick. “Felix, don’t use that type of language please” Elspeth said.

“mum, she’s a bitch. you really think i want to marry her?” James shook his head “she is a lovely girl. it’ll be good for us Felix. and it will be nice for you two to get along” Felix scoffed at his father. “you guys can plan this as much as you want, but i am not marrying that girl. i am 22 years old and i am old enough to make my own decisions, no is no”

“you will be, sorry Felix but it’s already started to be planned. the two of you will be getting married so you best start to try and get along. you guys will be moving into a lovely house after your honeymoon, you two will be fine” Elspeth said, her voice stern.

“now, since you know the news, go get ready. we are having a huge party to celebrate your engagement” he scoffed and walked away from his parents. this was going to be a long night.

-♡-

your mother had already picked out your engagement party dress and to be honest she did a good job of picking it. the dress wasn’t too over the top which you were grateful for. this whole idea of getting married to someone you hated was a lot of getting used too. you didn’t even have a ring yet which you knew would make it feel more real.

when you envisioned yourself your life you didn’t expect to get married for a few more years, and you would be getting married to someone you actually loved. you never thought your parents would force you to get married to anyone, let alone Felix. “are you excited for the party?” your mum said pulling you out of your thoughts.

you gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded “look, i know it’s not what you wanted but we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think it would work out. you and Felix will love each other in no time. i think when you two spend time together you will start to really like him” she grabbed ahold of your hand.

you were honestly willing to try the marriage thing for the sake of your parents, Felix was nice to everyone but you and you wanted to find out why. “oh, we invited practically everyone we know so be prepared to show fake smiles” she added as you stopped outside of Saltburn. knowing that you had to be lovey dovey with Felix made you anxious, it’s not like it was going to be easy when the two of you despised each other.

“right, let’s get this over with” you said as you exited the car, your mum scoffed “don’t speak like that y/n, you will enjoy yourself” she said as she linked her arm with your fathers. you followed behind the two of them and looked around the front garden of Saltburn, it had been covered in all different types of gold decorations.

Duncan the butler was waiting for you all at the front of the house, even though it was a party his face was still nonchalant. “theyre all waiting for you in the back garden, guests have already began to arrive.” your mother and father thanked him and made their way inside “not even going to break a smile for me, this is a party after all” you joked “enjoy the party y/n” he said making you laugh and brush past him. there was no breaking Duncan.

you made your way to the back garden which was just like the front, covered in gold decorations with guests slowly filling every section dressed in their party attire. you spotted Elspeth, James and Felix with your parents and you knew you would have to go over there. you put on your best brave faces d made your way over there.

Felix looked miserable as he stood next to his mother his eyes fixated on the grass. he hated the thought of you, he hated the thought of the two of you getting married even more. “aww there is the beautiful bride to be” he heard his mother say which made him look up from the ground.

now, even though you and Felix hated each other, there was no way he’d lie and say you weren’t beautiful because you were. you were one of the most beautiful people he had ever met. but that didn’t change the fact that he thought you were the most annoying person he’d ever met.

“gosh you look gorgeous” Elspeth said as you finally stood next to your parents. she pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek. “now that you are here we can talk to you both. we know that the two of you don’t get along but we are very happy that you are going along with the arrangement. we promise you both that it will be all worth it in the end” James spoke quietly but loud enough for you all to hear. they obviously didn’t want people knowing that it was an arranged marriage.

“we will see about that dad, this is the worst day of my life” Felix said shaking his head. hearing him say that hurt you a little bit and you didn’t know why. you didn’t show the hurt on your face and you were quick with a comeback “likewise, i’d rather drown in bleach then have to marry you but here we are”

“why don’t the two of you go talk to one another about it? it might be good for you two to have an actual conversation instead of arguing all the time. go to the library, there isn’t anybody in there” Elspeth said looking between the two of you. “oh and if you see any guests and they congratulate you, please act like the two of you love each other” she added as the two of you started, asking your way to the library.

the walk to the library was silent until one of the Henry’s and his wife stopped the two of you “there is the happy couple. we have been waiting for the two of you to get together since you were young. you look gorgeous together” Henry’s wife said. your sour expression was quickly forgotten and you tried your best to show you were happy by putting the fake smile on your face.

you felt Felix’s arm go around your waist. “thank you, it didn’t take too much convincing” you said as convincing as possible. “let me see your ring dear, it must be beautiful” your eyes widened, you did not think about that at all. “it’s at the jewellers, i accidentally got the wrong size so we need to get her a temporary ring until her real one comes back” Felix was quick with his answer.

“how did you propose Felix? was it romantic?” you both nodded “very, we were on a couples holiday. we went for dinner and then we went for a walk along the beach and i just got down on one knee when i felt like the time was right” how was he so quick with these answers?

“wow, that is truly romantic. anyways, we don’t want to keep you guys for any longer. congratulations you two” with that the two of them walked toward the garden. “how the fuck did you come up with that so quickly?” you said as you both also continued walking. “dunno, i just made it up” his voice was flat and his arm dropped from your waist.

the two of you reached the library and Felix closed the door behind him. you sat on the sofa and he sat next to you awkwardly “so, how are you feeling about this situation then?” you spoke trying to stop the awkwardness. “how do you think? i’m being forced to marry a girl who i despise” he scratched the back of his neck.

“well, i’m not ecstatic about it either but, we have to do it. we just need to try and be nice to one another and i think it could work out. it’s gonna be awkward but-” he cut you off quickly “do you really think i’m gonna try work this out? with you? you must be out of your mind” he started, you didn’t like where this was going at all.

“you are the most annoying person i’ve ever met, you do realise this marriage is just to make our parents look good? there is no way i will try work this out with you. i will never like you, i will never love you. you’re just going to be a person i’m being forced to live with” you looked at him “you are unlovable. no one will ever fall in love with you, you are that frustrating. your parents probably agreed to this marriage because they know no one else will fall in love with you” his tone was harsh. hearing him say that broke you.

you could feel your eyes filling with tears which you tried to conceal as best you could but it was no use. even though you hated him his words cut deep. “that’s a really fucked up thing to say” you shook your head and got up to walk away, slamming the library door as you walked to the nearest bathroom. you could feel your chin quiver as you sniffled, trying your best to keep your tears at bay.

Felix knew that was a low blow, and he regretted his choice of words as soon as they left his mouth. he was left in the huge library, the deafening silence making him feel even worse for how he spoke to you. the two of you always threw insults at each other but nothing like that, ever.

he could tell that you were trying to make the best out of a shitty situation and he had to ruin it by overstepping the mark. he knew that he was going to have to apologise to you because he did, that time, take it too far. he spotted Theo, another butler stood at the end of the hallway. “did you see where she went?” he asked him as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket.

“she walked into the bathroom down that way sir” Theo pointed in the direction you had gone, he nodded “thanks” he started making his way to the bathroom and once he was outside the door he could hear your quiet sobs. he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t think the person he was about to comfort would be you let alone for something he said.

he knocked on the door gently, he heard your sobs stop. “who is it?” you called out, trying your best to hide the waver in your voice. “can i come in?” he questioned. he was stood outside the door for a couple of minutes before he heard you unlock the door. he walked into the bathroom and saw you sat on the floor next to the door.

he cautiously sat down next to you, not knowing how you were going to react. “look, i’m sorry for what i said. that took it too far and i am truly sorry. i’m just stressed about the situation and i took it out on you and i shouldn’t have done that” you just nodded and looked down at your lap.

he sighed, he knew that both of you would have to figure out a plan. the two of you were getting married which seemed scary to both of you and if you went through with it with out a plan it would just crumble. he spoke “so” you looked up from your lap to look at him “we need a plan” you nodded again. “how do you wanna do this?”

[stxrvel]

coincidence! (2)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, we're still on the safe zone, angst if you squint, just silly writing! a/n. hi guys! finally second chapter is out! im blown away with your response!! thank u so much from the bottom of my heart! i loooooved reading your comments <33 pls remember updates are weekly or biweekly! and if you want to be tagged pls say so in the comments! see you next week ;)

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

“This is unbelievable! We're going to be rich!!!” 

“What makes you think my sister is going to give you any of that money?” 

“I created that Instagram account that was tagged in Kim Taehyung's damn story, I deserve a raise!” 

“What makes you drones think my daughter is going to give you any of that money?”

“None of you are going to get anything out of that act of feigned innocence. Honey, are you all right?”

It seemed like a light had gone on in the room, four pairs of eyes landing on your still pale, surprised face. The night had been heavy after Yuna's call and you'd had so little sleep that you didn't know how you were functioning at the moment. Maybe that was the thing: you weren't functioning at all.

When you woke up, you thought it had all been a bad dream and that definitely the first exposure you'd had to the guys in years hadn't been because Taehyung came across your books at a convention you decided not to go to and uploaded them to his Instagram account with over eighty million followers. It was impossible, wasn't it? Too crazy. 

Maybe not as crazy as waking up to your parents banging on your bedroom door saying that over a hundred thousand orders had been placed overnight and they didn't have enough book production for that much demand. 

Be that as it may, Yuna and your mother took care of the communications on the account. You went from having twenty followers (including your family and friends —your father had created an account exclusively for that and only followed you—), to almost sixty thousand in at least twelve hours. The posts you had worked so hard to create and put together were finally getting the attention they deserved, but it had all happened so fast and suddenly that it was too strong to process calmly. 

Weighing which was stronger, whether Taehyung's acknowledgment of your existence after so many years of zero contact or that your book sales shot up so immeasurably that they couldn't even keep up with demand, even if a month went by, didn't make things any easier. 

“She's obviously still in shock,” Yuna replied to your mother at your lack of response from the living room, right across the dining room where you had been sitting since you had come down from your room. Your breakfast was still untouched on the table, but that seemed to be the least important thing in the room with all the more important news. 

“Have the printers answered yet?” your brother's voice through the speaker of your father's phone rang as you blinked, reality settling too slowly on your shoulders. You didn't even want to think about what it meant that Taehyung had done that. Maybe it was simply an altruistic act, wasn't it? Maybe he felt guilt and wanted to ameliorate it somehow. What better way than to do an act of charity?

“I'm on it,” your father was sitting across from you in the dining room, his laptop on the glass of the table as he moved his hands over the keyboard and stared through his glasses at the full tip of his nose. From the way his eyes narrowed, your mother snorted. 

“Why don't you get those glasses adjusted if you know you don't see well up close, let alone on electronic devices?” the woman reached over, dragging your father's glasses until they were almost glued to his eyebrows. Your father barely gave her a goofy grin as your mother started shaking her hands. “You better move. I'll do it. You write too slow; you're getting on our son's nerves.” 

“Nah, I'm fine. I don't know if y/n is tho.” 

Silence returned and you growled internally. Well, that was enough conjecture and assumptions without any information to substantiate them, it was time to get down to business. 

 “Do you think we should take over this business now?” Yuna completely ignored your stretch and you sent her a confused look. 

Your brother exclaimed from the phone in agreement. “I call dibs on the treasury!” 

“There's no way you can keep the accounts right! You're studying law.” 

“Seojun is good at numbers, Yuna.” 

 “Ha, with all due respect Mrs. I/n, he must only be good at counting sheep.”

 “Hey,” you tried to get attention, getting up from the chair. 

 “y/n, don't talk, you're still in shock. Can you believe he once called me from the supermarket to ask if he got his change right? He didn't even move from the checkout counter. There were people booing him.” 

 “Ow, my poor baby.” 

 “I told you not to say that to anyone!” 

 “I can't keep quiet if they're speaking lies about you!” 

 “This wasn't lies! This is about my pride!” 

 “Nonsense. I'll handle the treasury. I double majored in finance and international relations for a reason.” 

 “You can't run anything without starting bossing everyone around!” 

 “It's not my fault you're a good-for-nothing!” 

 God. It was going to be a long day. 

- 

Sorting out the whole printing issue and the number of orders was difficult, but with a couple of stories, interactions with new followers and express delivery of the few copies you'd already had at home for months, the waters calmed down a bit. Now, in the stifling silence of your room, you wanted to run. 

 “Are you going to stare at the ceiling all night?” 

 “Maybe.” 

Yuna watched you from the bed while all you could do was stare as notifications continued to pop up on your Instagram account and your mail because the requests simply wouldn't stop, even though you had made a thousand clarifications to all the new followers. You were trying to focus on the bright side of things, regardless of whatever reasons there may have been for everything to have happened that way, but with your friend's incessant gaze lying on your bed it made it a little difficult. You knew she wanted to pierce your skull from curiosity, but you wouldn't know how you would answer her questions. 

 “Is there anything you'd like to share with the class?” 

 The tension had become a little more latent during the last few minutes, when Yuna saw a specific notification on the account. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin had followed you. To describe your look of shock might be an understatement, and all you did for the next half hour was run across the room and throughout the house vociferating that you were living a nightmare. 

 Yuna has known all along that you had never been a fan of the siamese or their clan of friends, but she never knew why exactly. You had to tell her that you weren't interested in fashion, that you didn't like the kind of music Jungkook made, that hip-hop was never your thing, that you weren't interested in dilfs and you weren't interested in dance either. You had to tell her that all the things you once did with them didn't matter to you because it was painful, even if it was hard to accept.

 You couldn't remember the times you would go shopping at the small mall in town to buy the trending clothes to put together different outfits with Taehyung and Jimin, then go try them all on at your house and invite the others and even your parents to do an impromptu runway show. You couldn't remember how the genre of music that Jungkook and you listened to all the time on his iPod and your MP3 player was the same one that his entire music career focuses on. You couldn't remember the nights when Yoongi would share his writings with you and you would help him compose a song or two on the piano when he felt brave enough. Or the times when you would accompany Hoseok to his workouts and then watch him create dance routines to his favorite songs while Jungkook sang in the background. You also didn't want to remember the times when Namjoon and Seokjin would sponsor their trips and give everyone gifts without expecting anything in return. 

You couldn't remember those things. It was too much to bear for such a weak heart. 

“What do you want to know?” you sighed, your body sliding on the chair as the notifications grew. 

“How did all this happen?” 

“Why do you think I have an answer for that?” 

Yuna clicked her tongue, sitting on the bed with the cell phone still in her hands, still staring at the notification that snapped her out of her sanity. 

“It's just… this is all unbelievable, magnificent and unreal. But how come you're not so excited about what happened?” Yuna slid across the sheets, to be right in front of you, but you refused to look away from the computer. Every time you thought you had overcome and grown around everything that happened so many years ago, something would pop up to remind you that you still had a long way to go. Maybe the nostalgia was strong, but so was the anger. “Regardless of how things turned out, because I know you're not as big a fan as me, this opens a million doors for you and I don't know why you're not celebrating it like we are.” 

 “It's…complicated.” 

 “I don't think so. Tell me.” 

Yuna was unstoppable when she wanted to get answers out, but besides the obvious, of course there was something else that bothered you and kept you from enjoying this boom so much. 

 “It's just that all of this doesn't feel like it was a product of my effort,” you began, letting your gaze wander over the desk. The copies of your books you kept for yourself, the first ones you'd ever printed several years ago, lay there, as tattered as your failed accomplishment. “It doesn't feel like an achievement that my work had exploded thanks to a celebrity whose fans would buy even the toilet paper he uses. A lot of those people won't even read the book. They will just buy it and take a picture of it to say that they have the same book that the great Kim Taehyung read. Many of those books will never have a life, they will just be dust collectors and be reminders that all this did not happen because of my effort.” 

“What the fuck are you blabbering about? Of course it's the fruit of your effort! Of course you deserve it!” Yuna got up from the bed and moved the chair around the back to leave you in front of her disgruntled and almost offended face. You could see the words drawn in her face. “You worked so many years to pull this off and after so many bumps you finally can! You deserve to have what you wanted so badly. This recognition will last just the same because many other people will read them and love them and they may not be many, but you will form a solid foundation as time goes on with people who will be truly unconditional and supportive and that will grow over time. Don't look at this so negatively, maybe you skipped a couple of steps, but you had every right to. It was what you deserved after all the effort and dedication you put into this project for so many years.” 

 Yuna didn't hesitate for a second. Her very serious expression sent a shiver down your spine and you could tell from her furrowed brow that she really was angry at your perception. Perhaps she was right, but without knowing the full background of this specific situation, you were only left to shake your head in assent and send her a grateful smile. 

“I guess you're right,” you lifted a shoulder, turning your gaze back to your mail notifications.

“Of course I am!” the smile returned to her face and it didn't take long for her to look back down at her phone with sparkling eyes. “Now that we got the emotional charge out of the way, would you mind telling me how you know Taehyung?” 

Your breathing stopped for a second and you cursed yourself because it sounded too loud as you almost choked on your own saliva. 

“Oh?” 

Play fucking dumb. 

“What, did you think I wasn't going to notice? He wrote it crystal clear.” 

Yuna wasn't even looking at you, too focused on running her finger over the row of notifications. Her nonchalant demeanor only caused you to panic more. It was as if she had caught you red-handed. 

One of the best writers I've ever met in my life, damn you Kim Taehyung. 

“Ah… I didn't… I didn't really know him so let's just say…”

“He couldn't have said that for nothing, don't you think? No celebrity would do that unless it was a person they hold in deep regard.” 

Yuna had just caught you totally off guard. Maybe you should've focused a lot more on what Taehyung had written before you blocked his user from your personal account and threw the phone in the bottom of your drawer the night before and tried hard not to think about the rest for the rest of the night and all that day. 

“It's just that… uhm… we studied at the same school. But for a short time actually. I don't even remember it well actually, ha, ha.” 

Your laugh came out too constrained under your friend's narrow-eyed stare. You knew you'd have a hard time convincing her because you were a lousy liar. 

“You know, it always struck me as odd that you weren't a fan. Taehyung and Jimin are like the two extremes of your ideal type.” 

“Whaaaat?”

“And Jungkook's music is literally the kind of music you listen to, you just don't listen to his. All the other artists in the same genre you do listen to.”

“That has nothing to do with…” 

“And even your parents don't claim to know Kim Seokjin when your mother was literally a nurse. She probably worked with him.” 

“What does that have to do…?”  

“And your brother is a hip-hop fan. How come he doesn't listen to Agust D? He's the best rapper of the last few decades and he's been trending for a long time.” 

“…” 

At what fucking moment? 

“And all of them, plus Hobi and Namjoon, they all went to the same school. They're all friends. And you say you went to school with Taehyung?” 

“Ahm… well, yes, but it's not like I would have met the others.” 

Yuna looked at you, really looked you straight in the eyes as if that way she could tell what it was you were hiding or as if that solved all her guesses. It was impossible for her not to figure it out if she had already tied up all the damn loose ends. 

Since the boys had left one by one, clearly your family was the first to realize how much their departures had affected you. In the beginning there was communication and all, but when Jungkook was the last to leave you lost any kind of link with them completely. You never knew exactly what happened because no matter how hard you tried to contact them you couldn't, not even your parents could talk to the boys' parents. Perhaps they had simply grown up, matured, completely forgetting about their ordinary life in that town. 

They seemed to have disappeared from the planet. 

Until your family moved to the capital. Jungkook was just starting out as an idol, but he had an amazing debut. He had captivated the entire audience and was too successful almost from the second one. It was a torment to watch them grow professionally little by little because, although you were happy for their achievements and all, you couldn't forget that they had basically abandoned you. And your parents and Seojun had noticed. They had noticed how much seeing them all over the place was bumming you out, so unreachable when at one point they were all in your living room eating your mother's delicious kimchi and listening to your father's anecdotes. Everyone was affected by their departures, but clearly no one as much as you. 

That's why, of course, your parents and brother had made a silent vow to keep all media about the boys away from you, because they didn't even talk about it by accident in the house, at least not when you were present. 

“It must be a huge coincidence…” Yuna continued and only at that moment did you realize how much you got into your head. Your vision slightly blurred. “I shouldn't accuse you of anything for things like that, should I? What nonsense.” 

You were probably as white as a sheet of paper. 

“Yeah, it would be too weird… ha, ha.” 

God, you had to stop letting out those giggles when you were nervous. 

“Anyway, should we order fried chicken for dinner?” 

“I think I heard mom say she was going to make japchae.” 

“Ohhhhhh, Mrs. l/n's japchae is delicious!” 

You let out a laugh watching your friend spring up from the bed and head for the door. She stopped halfway out and pointed her index finger at you. 

“Don't tell my mom I said that.” 

You made a gesture to zipper your mouth shut and Yuna finally left. 

The previous conversation had been so tense that you already felt tired and ready to sleep at seven o'clock at night. Really the whole day had been so heavy for everyone that you didn't know how the lights in the house were still on. For now, you couldn't do anything else, even if orders continued to come in, now everything depended on the printer and how fast the books would come out, so you would have to wait. 

Maybe you should rest. You had asked your boss for the day off, but tomorrow you would have to continue working hard. Regardless of the incredible growth you'd had, you couldn't let your work go to waste. 

Tomorrow would be a new day. A quieter one, preferably. 

-

a/n: i'll try to have ready part 3 for next week! see you on june 13 at 11:59 pm - GMT5 time!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 3!

happy sunday! hope you all enjoy these wonderful fics <3 if you're looking for more recs, here's another rec list i made this week!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

a guide to playing matchmaker for your boyfriend | sammyunhinged/@sammyunhinged | 52.9k | M

When Ravi incidentally finds out that Buck is questioning his sexuality, he offers him support, being the only person in Buck’s life that understands the particular intricacies of realizing you’re bisexual. In the process, Ravi learns that Buck just wants to date a guy, some relationship where he could discover himself and get comfortable in sexuality. Something short-term and casual. Ravi thinks he might be the perfect option. i've been on a ravi kick this past week (started before anirudh's video so like i'm not saying i manifested it but i'm also not not saying that lmao) and this fic was one of the highlights for sure!! wonderful writing and such great characterisation of ravi, but also such fun buddie <3

all my atoms | extasiswings/@extasiswings | 3.9k | T

There are three things every child learns about daemons: Don’t ask questions or talk about another person’s daemon—it’s rude. Don’t put too much distance between yourself and your daemon—it’ll hurt. Under no circumstances should you ever touch someone else’s daemon. Simple. Straightforward. Easy to remember, easier to follow. That’s what Eddie thinks of the rules. buck and eddie's daemons are so lovely and i love how this fic weaves daemons into a canon compliant setting!!

buck buckley hours on the diaz couch | sunlight/@justonebigbee | 5.8k | T

“Did you see me come over the back of the couch earlier?” Eddie asks. It’s such a non-sequitur that it makes Buck laugh a little. “Yes, I did. Very cool, man.” He’s only half-teasing. Eddie could make anything look cool. He just also happens to look silly most of the time too. Like now, for example. Lounging over top of Buck on his couch in this ridiculous get up. “I’ll go get us a snack, and—and, I’m probably going to do it again.” Eddie whispers the second part, like it's a big secret. i love this fic's combination of flirty buddie and non-sexual intimacy and the birthmarks and the couch!!

evan buckley and the art of crafts | beezethe/@evanpercy | 26.3k | T

Five times Buck gives Eddie a handmade gift out of love, and one time he actually means it. (or: the craft fic) crafty buck has my whole heart <3 this fic does such a good job capturing buck and his new projects and the firefam relationships!

he touched me, so i live to know | kejfeblintz/@kejfeblintz | 4.1k | T

5 times Buck and Eddie touched, and one time they really touched. so soft so cute so them <3 just a delight!!

life is just the way you hold me | allyasavedtheday/@littlespoonevan | 10.1k | T

Some people, when they go online shopping at night, buy things they don’t need. Like a Fitbit or a novelty t-shirt. Eddie… Eddie buys a professional cuddler. this was a reread, and a lovely one at that <3 soft and cozy and just wonderful. the fic equivalent of a warm hug!

next to your heartbeat, where i should be | rainbow_nerds/@rainbow-nerdss | 11.4k | E

Eddie’s not a complete idiot. He knows this isn’t normal. He stands in front of a mirror in his underwear, the tightest pair he owns, and he poses for a picture at an angle he’s learned flatters his ass and the curve of his thigh, to send to his best friend. ohh man something about buddie being Platonic Best Bros TM and engaging in decidedly non-Platonic Best Bro behaviour gets me every time. this is hot and fun and such a delightful read <3

rouge my neck | notathingtoseehere | 4.1k | M

Eddie is definitely not jealous at all, and has a completely normal reaction to strangers talking to Buck. they're idiots, they're in love, what more could a girl (me) want? nothing, the answer is nothing, because this fic is everything!!

take the bitter with the sweet | fruitsdoesnotknow/@fruitsdontknow | 5.2k | T

No one thought to brief Ravi on the Buckley-Diaz situation when he finally joins the 118. Spoiler: it goes about as well as a car crash. ravi struggling to figure out what on earth is going on with buddie is one of my favourite things in fics <3 this one also has brilliant firefam dynamics!!

the cost of doing business | pretentiousswanqueen/@hotcinnamonsunset | 5.4k | T

Ravi's landlord status makes him privy to some confidential information about the 118's finest. another one in a string of really lovely ravi fics <3 fluff and humour and such wonderful ravi narration!!

there's one thing (it's the weight of our wish) | atlasblue85/@atlasblue85 | 3.6k | GA

“I just don’t get it,” he says to Buck over the phone one day in mid-February, a couple months into the relo. “Last time they were because I was dating someone I shouldn’t have been dating. I’ve been single for nearly a year now, this shouldn’t be happening.” Buck hums across the line and Eddie rolls his eyes, tracking a flock of birds heading west. “Okay, you clearly have thoughts. Out with it.” “It’s just…” Buck starts. “Is that really why your panic attacks were happening? Because you were dating the wrong person?” the structure of this fic is so cool, and i love the buddie phone call at the start <3

TRUST! | pairofraggedclaws/@pairofraggedclaws | 7.8k | E

“I get used to it, I guess. Kind of. After a while,” Eddie says. Then, very quietly, “I’m just, uh, sensitive.” “Oh,” Buck says. Eddie's just sensitive. Eddie, his best friend, who he has now seen when he comes. Who comes in under a minute if he isn’t getting some on the regs. This is – this is – interesting. yeah buck interesting sure is a word you could use lmao. THIS FIC. this absolute gem of a fic <3 so hot and soft and just a delight!!

winner winner chicken dinner | lecornergirl/@clusterbuck | 1.9k | T

He’d rolled his eyes when Linda had sent him the recipe, the brightly coloured letters at the top of the page spelling out MARRY ME CHICKEN. She’d told him to make it for Buck some time and he’d sent back every unimpressed emoji he could find, but— It wasn’t supposed to work. He hadn’t made it because he’d thought it would do anything, only because the creamy chicken with sun-dried tomatoes actually sounded really good.  sweet and funny and fluffy! this fic makes me crave chicken. i did in fact bookmark the recipe <3

worth it | tabbytabbytabby/@tabbytabbytabby | 1.6k | T

When Buck gets a cold, Eddie takes care of him. buddie taking care of each other, my absolute beloved <3 based on the tags, this is right up my alley, and the tags were right! one of my favourites for sure!

[sugdenlovesdingle]

could you write something when tommy is just being a big softie to buck (or other way around is also great)? i kinda need some comfort rn :') thank you! xx

Soft I can do! I hope you like it!

---

Mr Evan Kinard. He ran his fingers over the name on the invitation. It was maybe a little silly but it was his first official anything since he and Tommy got married a few months ago, and he was barely resisting the urge to frame it and hang it on the wall next to their wedding picture.

"Oh hey you." he felt two arms slip around his waist and a kiss in his neck. "I wasn't expecting you home yet. I thought you'd be busy at casa Diaz for a couple more hours."

"Hmm? No Eddie roped the kids in to help so we were done faster. They're all moved in and Chris is only mildly annoyed by having to share a bathroom with three more people now. We are expected to come help paint soon though." He turned around in Tommy's arms and kissed him. "How was your shift?"

"Not bad." Tommy shrugged. "Had to fly a heart to a donor in the middle of the night with the new probie, and the rest was just maintenance and the usual stuff."

"So what you're saying is... you saved someone's life in the middle of the night?"

"More like... I flew someone somewhere with the tools to do so." Tommy replied and noticed the envelope in Evan's hands. "What's this?"

"Oh, yeah, an invite to the annual LAFD charity event next month. They're raising money to fund cancer research." Buck said, handing Tommy the invite. "There's one for you too."

Tommy quickly scanned the invite and pulled a face.

"I hate these things. You have to dress up and pretend to care what rich people are saying all night so they'll drop a big cheque on the donation pile."

"I know... but it's only one night. And I'll get to show you off in your dress uniform."

"Oh is that what this is about?" Tommy teased "You just want to see me in my dress uniform."

"I can neither confirm nor deny." Buck said and leaned in closer so he could whisper in Tommy's ear. "The real treat would be getting you out of that uniform."

"Oh is that your goal?" Tommy asked, slowly lowering the zipper on his hoodie and wiggling his eyebrows at Evan. "You should have just said so baby, you know I'll always give you what you want in that department."

"You're ridiculous."

"I vowed before our family and friends to always make you happy, and I take my vows very seriously."

Buck moved his hands up to his neck and interlocked his fingers behind Tommy's head.

"You do make me happy. Every day." he said and pulled Tommy closer for a kiss. "And that's why I want to go to this charity thing. It's the first official event since we got married. It's the first time I'll get to use my new name."

"You already have name tags and turnouts with Kinard on them." Tommy pointed out.

"I know. But the only people who know what those turnouts used to say are our friends who were all at our wedding. At this charity event, I can introduce myself as Evan Kinard and then ask the person I'm talking to if they've met my husband yet." Evan explained. "Without someone going 'yes Buck, we know' and rolling their eyes at me."

"They do that?"

Evan shrugged.

"It's happened a few times. It's no big deal. I talk about you a lot."

Tommy smiled that crinkly smile Buck loved so much.

"Yeah I talk about you a lot too. They kept a tally the other day on how many times in one shift I said your name."

"And? What was the score?"

Tommy grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened his camera roll and showed him a picture of his locker at work, with a sheet from an LAFD notepad stuck to it, filled with dashes.

"This is in no way correct. I'm sure it was more."

---

Send me prompts and I'll write you a ficlet!

[m00nsbaby]

AITA for texting my fiancé that "this isn't working"?

Steven Grant x reader.

Tags & warnings. None. Yes, this literally is just a silly little thing that I read on reddit and I thought it was so funny lol. Reader is gender neutral!

Word count. 823.

Moving in with Steven was one of the best decisions you could make in your life, right after saying 'yes' when he proposed.

The only inconvenience came at a precise time between morning and afternoon, sometimes even at night, all depending on the mood of his boss. Waiting for Steven to return from work was such a headache, boring hours and dead time as you tried to find your own job.

The upside was that you now had complete freedom to organize his apartment to your liking, and if anything needed a complete makeover, it was Steven Grant's dark and disorganized home.

You had just made a completely necessary expense, a gigantic mirror that was clearly bigger than your capabilities. Worse yet, considering that if there was something you despised with all your heart, it was the mere idea of reading an instruction manual.

When the mirror arrived, the Amazon delivery guy mocked you to your face for your difficulty in handling the box and getting it into the house.

You: Baby, the new mirror just came in!

You hit send after the message.

You: I’m going to try to put it together but I may need your help later.

And just as you said, you got to work with the phone by your side, waiting for a response from Steven.

You assumed Donna was in a terrible mood because at least two hours went by without a reply, although you were really too busy to worry about that.

For a moment, you insisted on the idea of finishing assembling the darn mirror before Steven arrived home, but that clearly didn't happen because for the two and a half hours of effort you put in, you didn't feel like you were really getting anywhere.

Plus, you had extra screws that shouldn't have been left over.

You: This isn’t working and at this point, I think I need to just give up.

You put the phone aside and lazily lay down on the carpet. Why was assembling furniture so hard? Although not as difficult as having to accept that you couldn't finish it on your own.

You stayed there not knowing how long, but you estimated it was a few hours because you heard the front door indicating that Steven was home. The smile lasted only a short while because as you straightened up to greet him, he walked past you without even looking at you, heading straight to the bedroom.

"Steven?" you questioned, slightly furrowing your brow. You stood up slowly, giving him time to exit the room.

When you finally confronted him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. His eyes were red, completely filled with tears.

"What happened, baby?"

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking. It shattered your heart into pieces.

"Why what, Steven?" He sniffled, and you searched his gaze when he started avoiding you.

"Why are you giving up on me?"

You nearly killed him right then and there.

"What are you talking about?"

He didn't take long to pull his phone out of his pocket and shake it a bit in front of your face; he was on the verge of sobbing.

"Y-Your messages, you were breaking up with me."

The moment Steven mentioned your text messages, you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing in his face.

Your expression almost made him cry harder. Were you making fun of him?

"Steven." Your voice came out in a playful tone as you almost burst into laughter. "I was talking about the mirror."

"Huh? What mirror?"

"The new mirror, it arrived." Your eyes were almost watering from holding back laughter. "I'm guessing that the previous messages didn't send; I was talking about not being able to assemble it on my own."

You stepped aside to let him see the mess you had made on the floor, with the mirror halfway assembled.

Steven exchanged glances between the things and you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

Realization hit in seconds, and you couldn't say anything more when you felt Steven's arms squeezing you against his chest. You couldn't stop laughing even though your laughter sounded odd, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"Bloody fucking hell, love!" Steven cursing was definitely a special event. It only made you laugh harder. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

He lifted you off the ground, and tears were already streaming down your face. It took much longer than expected to calm down from the laughter.

Still breathless, you let him kiss your face, as well as embrace you with his strong arms that refused to let you go.

"Still, I need you to check the mirror." You took a deep breath, your cheeks already reddened, one of your hands held onto him, and the other wiped the corners of your eyes. "I think I damaged it."

[daengtokki]

part nine // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 14.9k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: monsters, murder, pregnancy, medication mention, dissociation, hospital scenes

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

comments: just wanna say hi to my new followers and new deity readers ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST AND TAGLIST]

TAGS: @kkamismom12/ @r0tt1n/ @heluvschibi / @feckinbecky / @missystay / @seungluvr / @babrieeee / @curiouscocoabean / @feelikecinderella / @carpioassists / @soulsbbg / @san-axa0 / @vixensss / @keiizzx / @xyliskz / @reignessance / @velvetmoonlght / @ghostedgameplays / @pochaccochacco / @lashaemorow / @eastjonowhere

Seungmin opens his eyes to a bright blue sky, the tops of the pine trees, and an ache in his neck. There's the sound of birds singing, but otherwise; perfect, natural silence. It's nice for a moment, despite his pain, until the last several hours come flooding back to him, and his world crumbles all over again. He lets the tears fall freely down his cheeks as he struggles to sit up, and he wonders what he's going to do now that he's made it through the night.

All around him are tracks. Too many to count. There are so many circling him that he can't distinguish anything except the cloven hooves of a deer, so while he slept, he was visited by something other than the thing in the woods. "Why didn't you take me?" He asks in a shaky whisper. Nothing answers except the birds, but when he tries to stand, someone screams. An ear splitting, head splitting shriek brings him to his knees. “Stop! Stop!” Plugging his ears does nothing; it’s as if the sound is coming from inside of his head. “Please!” It stops suddenly. The scream doesn’t taper off or echo…it just stops, like it never even happened. When Seungmin looks around him, and despite being on his knees, head hanging low, he’s dizzy. All he wants to do is lay in the dirt and fall back asleep. He spreads his hands out in front of him, “what is that?” he asks himself, staring at his pale, goose-bump covered arms. He takes a closer look and sees the scratches; three of them on each limb, starting at his knuckles and not stopping until he gets to his elbows. They don’t hurt, and they’re not deep enough to bleed. “Did I do that?”

Seungmin’s ears start to ring, and the dizziness returns. He hears the footsteps behind him, and he’s only surprised by it being here now, in broad daylight. It had all night to come for him. The sound it makes is more terrifying than he ever imagined. He’s heard the growls, and the whispers, but never it speaking directly to him—Seungmin didn't even imagine it having a voice. It sounds like a strange attempt at his name, but how can he answer? How can he Ppossibly turn and face it?

“Who are you?” He doesn’t bother trying to hide his fear. Seungmin’s chest tightens, and his voice shakes. The smell of dirt and decay hits his nose. He has to hold back his urge to vomit as the stench gets stronger and stronger. “Please go away.”

you called for me

It’s inside of his head. He can feel it echoing through his brain.

face me

“I wanna go home”

you have no home

“Yes I do! I do have a home”

little stray, I’m all that’s left now…we are all that’s left

“I’m not alone, I’m not!” Seungmin thinks about his aunts, who he only met once when he was two. He doesn’t remember, of course, but umma talked about them sometimes. His father’s sisters. They must be like dad, even just a little. “Someone still wants me, right?”

don’t be silly

“No, they do!”

turn and face me, and I’ll consider letting you leave

Just one look. Besides, this is why he came out here in the first place—to be found by it, and to never face another day again. Seungmin rises to his feet and takes a few deeps breaths. He has to get it over with. He turns, and somehow, the smell becomes worse. It’s here…it’s really here. He’s seeing it with his own two eyes, ten feet away from him.

good boy

To Seungmin, it looks as if a piece of the forest came to life, started to rot, and this is the outcome. The smell matches the rest of it, and the cloven hooves match the tracks surrounding where he slept. A face like a bleached skull, and black pits where its eyes should be almost distract him from the red, shedding antlers. It doesn’t move. The creature stands motionless as it speaks from its nonexistent mouth. How could this not be real? Why would Seungmin’s mind create something so horrible just for him?

I won’t leave you alone

Seungmin doesn’t hesitate, and his legs don’t either. He runs until his chest burns, and his legs nearly give out…and then the bright reflection of the greenhouse comes into view. The grass is cool and damp against his skin; it’s a relief, but it’s still there, burned into his vision, and the smell still burns his nose.

“Somebody will want me”

“Well?”

Seungmin squints at the screen, looks at you, and then back to the strangely detailed image he’s seeing. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to see…them. That’s them.”

“Yes, the 3D ultrasound still surprises parents”

“Still a little creepy,” you mumble and widen your eyes at her.

The tech looks at you and nods, “they’ll be more like the babies you will hold in a month or so. They still need more time to gain weight.”

“They’re moving!” The images are jumpy, but every few seconds, there’s a slight change in position. Seungmin can’t take his eyes off of them.

“Twenty-two, almost twenty-three weeks is early for this scan, but they look healthy. And you have boys, one hundred percent certain.”

Seungmin laughs, and then pulls out his phone. “Do we get photos?”

You think he’s going to take his own, but he stops to read something instead. It’s Heecheol, judging by the little smirk on his face and the smile in his eyes. You wonder if they decided on a time to visit, and if Seungmin remembered to mention the pregnancy to him. There’s no hiding it anymore, and the spare room won’t be a spare room when he comes to stay. The nursery is painted (a color called mint chocolate chip that Seungmin picked out himself), partially decorated—though Seungmin had trouble choosing a theme. The twin bed is still there, and it’s comfortable. Much more comfortable than the couch.

“Yes, we’ll print some images for you”

***

A few moments ago he was sound asleep, but now you can feel his stare. Your eyes stay glued to your phone for a few more seconds—your mother is texting you for the second time since you’ve moved in with Seungmin, and you still haven’t told her much. Seungmin doesn’t exist in her world, and neither do Haneul and Haesung. In her mind, you’re still alone in your little apartment, working the job that pays you just enough to live and eat. You are still trying your best to learn Korean, but you haven’t been going to formal classes as often as you’d like, and not at all since you started showing.

Before any of that information comes out, you need to mentally prepare for a long phone call. And maybe her anger, for two reasons: depriving her of what will be her first grandchildren, and worst of all, not having grandchildren that look like her. But twenty-five weeks is well over halfway there, and part of you feels guilty about keeping things a secret. Now you move your eyes away from the screen, and his are there, just like you thought—big and round and dark. “What’s wrong, Minnie?” He blinks a few times, and his gaze drops away from you. “You were almost snoring a minute ago.”

“Was I?”

“Just a little bit…you’ve had a busy week”

“Who are you talking to?”

Him noticing and wondering isn’t a surprise, because you rarely text anyone but him, and one classmate who keeps asking when you’ll come to classes. You’ve considered texting her and maybe getting out of the house, but it hasn’t happened yet. It’s so much easier to stay home and keep up with your dramas, or lose yourself for a while in a video game with Seungmin. That’s a new favorite for you. “My mom.”

“Have you spoken to her much lately?”

“Nope. I have texted back and forth to my sister, just to let her know I was still alive…but mom never bothered to respond to anything until now.”

“Did you tell her?”

You shake your head as you read the next message that pops up.

I just don’t understand why you’re still there…you don’t have to be so far away from the only family and friends you have. You can come home anytime.

there’s more here for me than you’re aware of

okay, so tell me what’s so special about it there

“Not yet. I think that should be a phone call.”

“Do you think she’ll be unsupportive?”

“She’s always unsupportive.” The message thread disappears, and you pull up what you were looking at before she surprised you. “Do you like this?”

Seungmin takes your phone in hand and brings it closer to his face, but he still squints. “Snoopy! Snoopy in a bunny suit. He looks so soft…are there any other colors?”

“Mocha…and yellow. Everything else is sold out.”

“Get one of each”

“Maybe we forget about a theme, and just fill the nursery with cute things. You add them to your cart and click on more characters. “Pochacco?”

“Pochacco? Yeah, we can do more puppies.”

“Do you like Pochacco? I wasn’t expecting you to know your Sanrio characters.” Seungmin throws off the covers and heads for his closet. “Where you going?”

“I still have things you’ve never seen, I guess.” He opens the closet door and heads for the opposite corner of his photo boxes, and after a little bit of digging around, a few things come flying toward you: a small, soft Pochacco; Snoopy, floppy and worn out like Daengmo, and a small brown dog you don’t recognize. The last one comes a few moments later, and it’s the biggest one.

“Growlithe!”

“Umma got me a different puppy every year for my birthday. Daengmo was first, Snoopy was second.”

You can’t help but wonder which one came last, but you know better than to ask. “Puppies it is.”

Seungmin’s phone buzzes, and you see the text notification appear. You can’t read it, or the name—especially not upside down and from this distance, but as soon as he dives back into bed and scoops it up, you get an answer.

“Heecheol says he has the weekend off, Friday through Monday, but he can’t stay long. He has another nurse checking in on his umma while he’s away, though.”

“That’s good. Is he coming on Friday? That gives me some time to clean and get the room ready.”

“Friday morning, yes. The apartment is clean!”

“Not guest clean”

The voice of his aunt is stern and serious, but it doesn’t bother him. As much as she tries to make Seungmin listen, and he usually does, nothing quite compares to the steady, eerily calm voice of his late-stepfather. He stares down into the pocket of his glove as she speaks.

“Are you listening?”

“I’m listening”

“I’m not trying to sound so…”

“Mean?” Eun-ji, who looks almost identical to her sister, just thinner, answers for her. “Please remember what this boy has been through.”

She huffs, but nods in understanding. Four years with their mother and father was probably difficult enough, but it’s been barely four years since losing his mother. Now, he’s moving again. “I’m sure umma took good care of you, Seungmin, but she’s getting old, and just can’t keep up anymore.”

“She did…and I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“You have to care for me now, but I’ll try to be as helpful as possible. I won’t be a burden.”

They look at each other and smile. Seungmin doesn’t understand why. He wrings his hands together as they look to him again. “We know you’re a very well-behaved boy, and you get good marks in school. And you play baseball, right?”

He nods.

“You like to read?”

“Yes”

“Well, I understand the high school has a baseball team you can try out for next year, and we have a very large library. It’s just a quick bus ride into town. Oh, what’s the matter?”

Seungmin’s legs start to shake, but he doesn’t know why. His chest tightens, and his eyes well with tears. He can’t stop himself. “Uhm…I—“

“There’s no need for tears, you’re safe here with us.” Eun-ji reaches out and takes his hand in hers. “We’ll take good care of you…Minnie? Is that what your umma called you?”

Seungmin nods and wipes his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Sometimes.”

“Come over here and sit with us”

He walks on his unsteady legs and squeezes between them on the couch. They smell nice, and Eun-ji still squeezes his hand gently. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“If it helps you feel better, you should cry. If someone told you to be ashamed of your tears, you can just forget what they said.”

Can he? Seungmin isn’t sure he can do that. Crying is a sign of weakness—that’s what his stepfather told him, even when he saw his tear-streaked, dirt-covered face when umma found him and brought him home. Crying is for babies and little girls. Is that what you are? A baby? A baby sulking around with his little stuffed dog. He’s been gone for years, and he still won’t leave him alone. Just like the monster promised. Both of them swirl endlessly in his brain, and he just wants to make it stop.

“Here, let me clean your glasses…Ji-woo will show you your new bedroom, and we’ll get you unpacked”

Friday morning comes, and you sit at the kitchen counter, wondering how you could possibly find the energy to finish…anything. Your body and your mind has run on caffeine since you were fifteen, and now you’re afraid to drink more than a few sips of coffee. It’s not just the thought of feeling nauseous, but it’s doing anything to could cause harm to them. You know in your brain that caffeine, a little bit, won’t hurt, but you still feel like you need to be perfect to keep them healthy.

“I’ll be back. His bus should be getting here soon…are you okay?”

“Bus? Oh, that must have been uncomfortable for him. I’ll finish getting his room ready.”

“Are you okay? You look sad.”

“Sad? No, Minnie, I’m not sad. I was just…thinking about coffee.”

Seungmin laughs, “coffee? You must really miss it. I can grab some decaf while I’m out. Maybe that will help the craving.” He brings you in for a kiss. “Stay off your feet. I’ll finish getting things ready when we get back.”

You listen, and as soon as he closes the door behind him, you grab your pillow, and Daengmo, and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Seungmin will be an hour at the very least, so you set an alarm just in case you doze off.

***

Any other day, the traffic wouldn’t be worth the fight, but Seungmin doesn’t want Heecheol on a city bus after a long bus ride. He drives the four miles there, and a half an hour later, he’s starting to feel nervous for no reason. The busy station does make him uneasy—he’s rarely around this many people at once. And he never has a reason to be here, so he’s unfamiliar with the layout. Eventually, after asking for directions twice, he figures out where he needs to be, and he waits. No text messages come through telling him he’s almost there, or that he’s arrived, but the trains are usually on time. He should be arriving in two minutes, according to the big clock above the schedule.

“Mo!”

Seungmin jumps and turns to face his friend’s big smile. “You’re early.” Heecheol gives him no time to react before he pulls him in for a hug. It’s a strange feeling. He’s grown used to holding you, and having your arms around him as he falls asleep, but this is different. Heecheol is taller; he’s strong, and Seungmin feels small in his embrace.

“Sorry it took…two months?”

“Two and a half.” But what is that compared to fifteen years?

He pulls away, but his hands fall to Seungmin’s shoulder. “It was hard picturing you grown up, even as I looked in the mirror and saw myself getting older. I kept thinking about that when you two left.”

Seungmin isn’t sure what to say, but he returns the smile. He doesn’t know how to tell Heecheol that his mind was lost for a very long time, and he didn’t think about him nearly as much as he should have—at least not until ten weeks ago. It never occurred to him that he was still being thought about as he struggled through his school years, just from very far away.

“But we should get out of here, it’s getting even busier”

“Right, I’m parked not far from the entrance…I just,” he stops. Seungmin had more than enough chances to tell him, but he kept putting it off. “I have to stop for some coffee before we head back.”

“I haven’t been to Seoul since I flew home last year. City life is already lost on me, even after Charlotte. But that doesn’t compare to this.”

“It’s smaller there?”

“Much smaller, less people. Do you like it here?”

“It’s okay. I don’t really get out much, so I might as well live in a small town sometimes.” Except if Seungmin lived in a small town, he would have been caught a long time ago. He chose to stay in Seoul for the ease of blending in, or disappearing. And for the wide pool of potential victims. “I say that now, but when I was…single, it was different. It’s easier to be at home now, because I’m not always alone with my thoughts.” Yeah, that makes sense. Seungmin can turn off the bad noise—not always, but certainly more than before.

“That makes sense. Sounds nice. Sounds serious.”

“It is. And speaking of that, there’s something I kept meaning to mention, and I just…I haven’t.”

“What is it?”

***

He makes sure to text you on the way up the elevator, but you don’t reply by the time he slides the key in and pushes the door open. “We’re here…oh.” Seungmin shuts the door softly, and Heecheol watches as he kneels where you’re still sleeping on the couch; blanket pulled up to your chin, Daengmo shielding your eyes from the sunlight. Seungmin picks him up slowly. “Hey…”

You stir a little, and as your eyes flutter open, you remember where you are, and what’s going on. You remember where Seungmin went and that he wasn’t returning alone. “My alarm didn’t go off…or, I slept through it, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you can nap. Do you wanna get into bed while I get us settled?”

It takes a moment, but you sit up carefully and wonder how puffy and groggy you look to your guest. “No, I’m awake…hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles at you just as sweetly as he did before, but his eyes fall to your stomach this time. “I can understand why you’re tired. Please don’t force yourself to lose sleep because of me.”

“I sleep all the time...maybe too much. I’m hoping my decaf will trick my brain into thinking it’s getting caffeine.”

Heecheol approaches, a little hesitantly, but then sits a few inches away on the couch. “Right, the decaf makes sense now. Did you drink a lot of coffee before you were pregnant?”

“Yes, every day”

“A little bit of caffeine here and there won’t hurt. And if it makes you happy, that’s probably better for baby than you feeling miserable without it.”

“I’m nervous about doing something wrong”

“When did you have your last appointment?”

“Two weeks ago”

“And how did it go?”

“It went well. They looked very healthy, and they just needed more time to fatten up.”

“They?” His eyes grow, but he looks to Seungmin for an answer.

***

“I should have told you before today”

“As long as she’s comfortable with me here, that’s what matters.”

Seungmin sets his iced coffee in front of him, the same as what he’s drinking. “Still. I hesitated. I told you how long we were together, and I didn’t want you to think it was because we made a mistake.”

“I don’t think that.” Heecheol slides his hand across the counter and sets it over Seungmin’s. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Mo.”

He smiles at that—his nickname. The first time Heecheol heard his mother call him Mo, it stuck. Seungmin turns his hand over and squeezes his fingers.

“I’ve never known you to do anything lightly”

They speak softly at the kitchen counter, but you still catch pieces of the conversation. You recognize some of it, to your surprise—single words, at least. You catch your name, and that’s not surprising. Heecheol didn’t seem very surprised when he saw you, so Seungmin obviously got around to telling him at some point. The babies are moving around as you stand by the door and adjust your shirt, and you have to stop and breathe until they stop…it feels like they’re arguing in there; kicking each other, fighting for more room. Breathing excercises aren't enough. The horrible swirling feeling and the smell of lunch cooking on the stove makes you sick, and you stumble out and head for the bathroom.

“Tokki, are you okay?”

You see them from the corner of your eye as you walk by, but you don’t stop, because if you do, you might not make it.

“Still getting nauseous?” Heecheol asks. He walks up behind Seungmin as he stares at the closed bathroom door.

“Sometimes. Especially if they’re very active, but active is good, right?”

“Yes, and they’re taking up a lot of space in there. I’m sure it’s very hard when they won’t rest together.”

He’s never thought about it quite like that. Just because they share a space doesn’t mean they share a schedule. One takes a nap, the other wakes up and kicks his brother until he starts to kick back. He can’t imagine how strange that feels inside of you. “Hopefully they rest together when they’re here with us.”

“They’ll keep a routine as long as you give them one, and they need that, but babies will always do what they want”

“Cheoli, you seem to know a lot about babies”

“Lots of rotations on the maternity ward, here and in the states. It’s my favorite. Oh, how did your cut heal?”

There’s a scar there, but barely. Seungmin sticks out his arm and Heecheol runs his thumb over it. “Very well, you stitched it so straight.”

A few minutes later you emerge, pale in the face, but feeling better. The two of them look at you from where they sit at the counter, and Seungmin smiles as you approach. They’re both clutching their coffees now, but you’re certain you saw them clutching each other before you interrupted.

“I can make you something easier on your stomach, if you want”

You hoist yourself onto the stool next to him, “no, I’m okay…I think they finally calmed down,” and Seungmin scoots you closer.

The silence, one long enough to start feeling uncomfortable, is finally broken by Heecheol. And he speaks to you. “Do you like living here, in Korea?”

The thought never crossed your mind, strangely enough. Living here, or living there—it’s been the same in some ways, or it used to be. You lied to Seungmin about how long you’ve been here, and he knows that, but you’ve never actually told him the truth. Two months spent by yourself, trying to adjust…trying to settle somewhere new and far away from home. “I do. Learning Korean has been hard, and I feel like I’ll never get the hang of it. I really should be immersing myself, but it’s hard when he speaks perfect English.”

He nods and smiles at Seungmin, who looks a little guilty for making things too easy for you.

“It was hard when I was alone. I almost left a few times, but finding him made everything feel right.”

“And now you two have made a sweet little family"

Seungmin’s smile is so wide, you can see it without even turning to look at him, and it gives you butterflies. Or maybe the babies are just awake again. You didn’t expect to reminisce about the way your relationship came to be, but of course his friend wants to know details—details you can’t give, but ones you’ll remember, sometimes in intense detail. The forest hasn’t been forgotten, not at all, and you still wonder what pulled him in there. If you asked, he wouldn’t know, so sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and wait for a dream to come; a nightmare that gets him talking. It does weigh on you—the eavesdropping and the hope for a vivid dream, but so does his strange behavior.

“Sometimes I would wonder if it was ever possible…being a father, and if I could even do it. It seemed out of reach for me.”

“Why? I understand the feeling, though."

“Tokki should have dropped me and ran more than once already, but…I’ve been lucky. I’m not easy to deal with.”

Heecheol smiles and lets out a tiny laugh, but only after seeing your smile. “We fit well together, just like the two of you seem to. I’ve never seen him smile at anyone else the way he smiles at you.” The happy blush already on his cheeks darkens even more, and his eyes drop to his coffee. Every time you look at him, it just reinforces your assumptions. Maybe Heecheol didn’t have feelings for Seungmin when they were kids, but he does now, and it hit him so suddenly when he laid eyes on him again. All those good feelings came back; the comfort, and the understanding.

Or maybe you’re just projecting. Maybe you’re just thinking anyone could fall in love with him so easily.

Seungmin squeezes the hand you placed in his lap, and at the same time, slides the other across the counter. Heecheol grabs it without hesitation.

“This time last year,” he starts, but you can tell he hasn’t gathered all of his thoughts yet. “Uhm, uh—“ he releases both of you and wrings his hands together as he continues to think. You can tell he’s retreating. “Nevermind.”

What was Seungmin doing last spring: what was going through his head?

“You can tell us, Mo. When it feels right.”

Both of you are gentle with him, and Heecheol doesn’t even know just how much Seungmin needs that. He also doesn’t know how rarely he opens up. Too often he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling; eyes slowly closing, but he never falls asleep before you do. Whatever is on his mind in those moments belong to him, and only him.

Tonight is one of those nights. An hour passes slowly as you watch him think. It was an unseasonably warm day, perfect for the baseball game they went to, and it’s carried into the night—a breeze just barely makes it to the bed. Seungmin is star-fished on his back, blanket covering one full leg. The rest of him, aside from what his shorts cover, is out and damp with sweat.

“I can put a fan on if you’re too warm,” you say, even though his eyes are closed now, and he might finally be asleep.

“I’m okay. Are you? Are the babies making you warm?”

“A little”

He’s up with a grunt, and he stretches his back and shoulders as he heads for the balcony. First he pulls the curtains aside as far as they’ll go, and then he slides the door open a little bit more.

“That makes me nervous”

“Hm…what does, the balcony?”

“The curtain and the door being all the way open.” You feel stupid thinking it, but not stupid enough to keep it to yourself. “I keep wondering if you were sleepwalking that night.”

“If I was,” he smiles sweetly at you, “I haven’t done it since. You haven’t caught me, at least.”

“I know”

“And we have a nice breeze coming in now…you’ll sleep better”

“Do you think Heecheol is okay? I don’t want him to be uncomfortable and not let us know.”

Seungmin stops halfway back to bed, “I’ll check.”

***

He doesn’t bother turning on a light, so he walks carefully to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. While he’s there, he wonders if alcohol is a good choice. A beer, just one on top of the three he had earlier, probably wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it’ll help him sleep. Seungmin grabs one and heads for the nursery, and before knocking, sets his ear against the door. At first it’s quiet, but a moment later, he hears what sounds like a muffled video playing on his phone. A soft knock, and a moment later, he hears him…I’m awake, you can come in.

Seungmin pokes his head in and sees him propped up on the pillows, phone in hand. “Sorry, we just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” The window is cracked, and he can feel the breeze coming in. “Or if you needed anything.”

“Yeah, I’m comfortable. I thought you’d be asleep by now, it’s late.”

“Can’t sleep”

“You can come in”

Seungmin steps in and sets the water on the side table. “Brought this anyway.”

He nods to the bottle of beer. “Who’s that for?”

Both of them had enough to drink at the game, but his enough is double that of Seungmin’s, at least. He was still a little tipsy on the bus ride home, and Heecheol quietly stared at Seungmin for the duration.

“I can get another if you want this one”

“No, I think I hit my limit today.” The bed squeaks as he moves to make more room, and Seungmin takes the invitation. “Went a little over it, maybe.”

“Are you feeling okay now?”

“Yeah, back to normal I think. So this is the future nursery?”

Seungmin looks around and smiles as he twists off the cap. The color he chose looks nice in the dim lamplight, and a small collection of plushies is already accumulating on top of the dresser. Two boxes lean against the wall; a crib for each boy, and he knows he needs to start working on assembling things. You’ve already told him they won’t be sleeping in here for a while, so in your bedroom are two more boxes, each containing the pieces for a bassinet. Seungmin never really knew how much a baby needed, but it’s a surprising amount—doubled. “Yeah, just enough room, at least while they’re small.”

“Do you need help putting those together? Or anything else…doesn’t seem like you have everything yet.”

“No, I can’t make you work while you’re—“

“What was that?” The noise is faint, but Heecheol catches it. Seungmin hears it the second time—a soft cry, like you’re trying to call for him.

They’re both on their feet, stumbling through the dark until Seungmin pushes the door open, and his stomach drops when he sees your pale, anguished face. “What… what is it, what’s wrong?” He asks as calmly as possible.

Heecheol rounds the bed and grabs your hand, and he’s quiet for a few seconds. “What’s hurting?”

“Everything”

“Have you felt pains like this yet?”

Flashbacks of the intense pains you felt while hiding out months ago come back to Seungmin. He was mostly useless then, and he feels only slightly less useless now.

He reaches for the lamp and clicks it on, giving the room some well needed light. “Have you had any false labor pains yet? Hey…look at me, I know it hurts.”

“No pains, no”

“Okay, try to breathe deep through your nose, and then let it out slowly…very slow.”

Seungmin’s grip on your hand relaxes. “I can see…is that them moving?” He almost lays his palm on your stomach, but thinks better of it. That’s probably not what you want or need right now.

“They can feel it, too,” Heecheol speaks softly, “and this is a long one. Take another big breath…it’ll pass.”

You listen, and as hard as it is to take a deep breath, you manage it twice. This is a new type of pain you’ve never experienced before, and you’re not sure you’re ready to deal with it again. Two long minutes of it, and all you can see to your left is a blur of Seungmin staring you down. You’ve never seen him look more worried than he does right now. “It’s okay, Minnie…I’m okay.” You aren’t, not really, but the pain is gradually easing up, and it becomes easier to breathe.

Heecheol squeezes your wrist again, and his other hand lands gently on your stomach. “They might be awake for a while now, but hopefully no more pains that intense.”

“I don’t think I can do that again”

“You can—you will, and you’ll be surprised by the amount of pain you can endure”

“I don’t want to,” you laugh, and wince in pain again when one of them kicks hard enough to see.

Seungmin stares, and finally places both hands on your stomach. “Is it normal to see them moving like that?”

“Yeah, especially considering how cramped it’s getting in there; you’ll see all kinds of movement. Feel anything?”

He smiles, “yeah, I’ve never felt them so active before.”

“Me neither,” you sigh and set your hands on top of his. “I wonder which one is the worst.”

“Do you need anything? Water…and something for the muscle pains you’ll be feeling would be a good idea.”

“I’ll get you something, I’ll be right back.” Seungmin bends down to kiss your hand before jumping off the bed and heading for the medicine cabinet. He wants to feel useful, and it’s tough to do with a nurse in the room.

You watch Heecheol start to rise, but he stops and feels your pulse. He’s calm, like he’s been in this situation more times than he can remember, and having him here right now, tonight, was very lucky. “Thank you. I don’t know how well he would have handled that alone. He’s doing a good job, but he worries…and overthinks.”

“So he hasn’t changed.” Heecheol laughs and looks around. He sees the dried flowers, slowly crumbling away in a brand new vase, and next to it is the still broken pieces of his music box. To new eyes, it probably looks like a mess, and nothing else.

There’s no sound coming from outside the bedroom, so you keep your ears perked while you watch him walk to the other side of the room. “Can I ask you something, before Seungmin comes back?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure…is it about…” his gaze drops to your stomach.

“No, it’s about when you two were kids.” He’s making something warm to drink—you hear the familiar clumsy sound of him making tea. Heecheol moves closer as you sit up a little more. “Did he ever wander into the woods? I mean, aside from the incident with his stepfather. Did either of you ever see anything strange in there?”

The look he gives you is loaded with questions, and you think the meds must be one of them. “The woods? The pine forest around the old house?” Now his gaze moves to Seungmin’s side table, and you see what he's spotted. Seungmin’s prescription came in a box this time, and the writing on the front is hard to miss: HALOPERIDOL 2mg. “Not that I recall. It was creepy in there…I do remember him telling me he saw something, but just once. I didn’t believe him—I thought he was trying to scare me.” He has no clue which incident you're referring to with his stepfather, but he's curious. “Why do you ask?”

There’s no time to elaborate, because Seungmin is back—mug in one hand, bottle of water tucked under his arm. You remember this. He looks exactly like he did that night; worried, a little pale, half dressed with a mug of tea in one shaking hand.

“I sweetened it for you.” He sets it on your table, along with the water and two tablets he had clutched in his fist. “Cheoli…is it too early for this, the pain?”

“Not necessarily, but if there are more tonight, more that last that long…could be uhm, could be the babies trying to move into position.”

“Position? Position to what?”

Heecheol laughs. “To be born. They have to turn, head down preferably.”

“Right. But they can’t be born yet, it’s too soon.”

As much as you want to tell him not to worry, you can’t, because you’ve been nervous since the day you found out you were pregnant. Getting this far was a surprise. All you can hope for is Heecheol to put his mind at ease.

“It is, but the pains don’t mean they’re coming yet”

Somehow, Seungmin’s face grows even more pale. Not trying to worry him further is not working, for either of you. You calmly sip your tea, but he continues to watch you like you’re going to explode at any minute.

“I’m sorry, Mo, I’m not trying to worry you.”

Seungmin swallows and nods, and he follows Heecheol as he heads for the door. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

***

Half of his bottle is drained quickly, “what?” Seungmin isn’t just feeling watched—the look Heecheol is giving him is one of concern, and curiosity. Some confusion. “I know I didn’t handle that very well. I should be stronger than that.”

He shakes his head, “no, you’re allowed to be worried and a little scared. A little clueless. The two of you will get through it. But I do have to ask something…because you said, or we said…maybe we were both a little tipsy or getting too much sun at the game…”

He remembers. How can he do it, though? Seungmin can’t tell him everything. “No secrets, just like when we were kids.”

“That means a lot of catching up.” Heecheol takes the bottle from him and finishes it. “The Haldol, I’m assuming it's yours.”

Seungmin was so worried and distracted, he didn’t think about his medication sitting out in the open on his bedside table. Keeping them within sight has helped. But now he might have to jump right in and tell him something. “Yes, they’re mine.”

“We can talk about it another time, if you want, but no more alcohol. Just promise me that.”

“Okay”

“Go get some sleep. Wake me if either of you need anything.”

***

The pain mostly subsides, but the kicking and squirming doesn’t. Both of them feel like they’re spinning inside of you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Breathing exercises only help so much, and if there’s a neural connection that lets you communicate with them, they’re ignoring every word you say tonight. But Seungmin returns, and regardless of how tired and mopey he looks, you’re relieved to see him shuffling toward the bed. “Just in time. C’mere.”

“Are you hurting again?” He climbs across the bed and curls up next to you, despite how warm he is. The alcohol and conversation made him even warmer. “More pains?”

“Nothing like before, no. Can you talk to them, or something? Anything. They’re all worked up.”

Seungmin sits up and sets a hand on you until he feels movement. “I can try.” He lies down again, this time with his head on you, ear pressed against your stomach. “It’s bedtime,” he whispers. “Time to settle down and rest. Haneul…Haesung, which of us will fall asleep first? It can’t be me. I’ll stay up until umma falls asleep, and that means you two first.”

He’s been speaking to them by name for two months now, and you’ve started to as well. There hasn’t been any more discussion about it, so it seems like a good fit. Seungmin starts to hum, and you can feel it move through your chest. You worry for a moment that they’ll start squirming again, but they don’t, and you can finally close your eyes and relax. There’s still some fear that the pain will hit again, but you’re too tired to let it keep you up, and you feel yourself slowly fading into sleep.

*

A dim, measured beep starts going off, just enough to be annoying. You’re still tired, and you desperately want to sleep, so you try to block it out and slip back to where you were, but it gets louder.

“Seungmin…what is that noise?” You cup your palm over your ear, but it doesn’t help. “Is that your phone?” No, his alarm doesn’t sound like that, and he never has the sound on. Maybe he’s at his computer, mixing something together…but he hasn’t done that in a while. Your hand slides downward and jumps to your stomach. Nobody is kicking now—not that you can feel, but you can’t feel anything. “Seungmin?” He isn’t next to you. Finally, you open your eyes, and it’s blinding. Wherever you are is too bright, and it’s certainly not your bedroom. Moving is almost impossible, but as soon as you force yourself onto your back, all you see as your eyes adjust is a plain, drab room. You set your hand on your stomach again; there’s nothing there; no bump, and not even the ghost of one. This is the same stomach you had six months ago. Everything below your chest is numb.

The doorknob clicks, and a nurse walks in without a word. She looks at you, clicks a pen, and still says nothing.

“Where are my babies? Where am I?”

“Babies?”

“Where are they…where is Seungmin? He wouldn’t leave me here. Seungmin!”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You wake up again, and seeing him stare down at you is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. His big worried eyes, and his warm hands squeezing your shoulders bring you back immediately. "Stupid dreams," you mumble.

“Are you in pain?”

No, you think. Not at all. It was just a dream, and you’re here with him. Everything is okay. But you are in pain and it takes another few seconds to hit. It feels like you’ve been in pain for hours, and you’ve never felt anything like it before.

“Hey, it’s okay…everything is okay, I’m here”

It’s as if a vice is squeezing your back and pulling your spine from your body, inch by inch. Your chest burns when you try to breathe, and it comes back out in a cry. “It hurts.”

“I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry.” He turns away screams for Heecheol.

It echoes in your head, and pain shoots around your stomach, around your back, and down your thighs. “They can’t come yet.”

“You’ll be okay, and they’ll be okay, too. Just look at me, take a breath.”

Heecheol runs into the room, but you can tell he’s calm as he approaches. “Hey, another bad one?” His hand clutches yours.

“Bad…it’s bad”

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“God, my back…and,” you set your hand on the bottom of your stomach and attempt another deep breath. “My chest.”

“Chest? How far is the closest hospital?”

“Uhm, the university hospital isn’t far. Should I call an ambulance?”

Heecheol gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Can you walk? When this passes, if you can walk, we should get you there, just in case.”

“I’m not sure”

He looks at Seungmin, “if it doesn’t pass in the next few minutes, we’ll call. If it does, we can get ready and drive there.”

It does start to fade, but not nearly as quickly as before. Your head pounds from the tension in your body, and every muscles aches in its own way. You close your eyes and feel both of them move away from you, but you don’t bother to focus on what they say…

“Hospital? You think it’s time for that?” Seungmin asks. He watches you carefully as you finally start to relax.

“The pain seemed pretty intense. Is the pregnancy considered high risk?”

“I don’t think so…everything has been fine at the appointments”

His hands, warm and damp are on you again; one squeezes yours, and the other runs softly across your thigh, “you okay?” He whispers.

“I dunno”

“We’re just gonna go to the hospital, to be safe,” he whispers again, trying desperately to keep you calm as he feels something falling apart inside of him. “So you can be more comfortable.”

“Will you stay with me?” A nauseous feeling starts to swirl inside of you, and you hope it’s the babies fighting again. You need them to move again. They haven’t moved since you woke up from your dream. “Please.”

***

The beeping is there again—it’s loud, and when your eyes open, everything is different, and he’s there, asleep with his head in his arms at the edge of your hospital bed. The lights are dimmed, and nobody else is around, because you assume it’s still the middle of the night. You don’t even know what time it was when you woke up in pain.

“Minnie?” Your voice cracks, and your cough is what wakes him up. “What time is it?”

“Uhm,” he grabs your arm and searches for his phone, “it’s 5:30. How do you feel?”

“Tired. What happened?”

“They gave you something to keep you from going into labor.” Heecheol closes the sliding door. There’s a coffee in each hand; one for him, and the other for Seungmin. “And something for the bleeding. And the pain.”

“Are the babies okay?”

“Yeah, babies are good. You don’t remember the ultrasound?”

Did you black out from the pain? Is labor actually that painful? “No, I don’t remember leaving the apartment.” If so, any fleeting thoughts you had of a natural birth before tonight…they’re long gone. “How long does the medicine stop me from going into labor?”

“Two days at the least, but an extra week is possible. Twenty-six is much better than twenty-five.”

You look to Seungmin, who’s looking at you the way that he tends to do; into you, and through you. He can’t hide the worry and sadness he’s carrying around with him. “Minnie, I’m sorry.”

“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You’ll be okay, and so will they.”

The dream keeps coming back to you, though.

***

It’s another two hours of you moving in and out of sleep before your doctor arrives, and when she walks into the room followed closely by someone else—a nurse, she looks concerned. You can tell she tries to shake it off when she gets closer.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?”

“Better than I was last night”

“Last week everything looked very good, and they were…” She stacks her arms parallel to each other against her stomach, “transverse. They both moved very quickly, and now they’re both head down.”

“Is that bad?”

“It’s unusual this early, but we’ll try to keep labor at bay for as long as possible, and we can give you something to help speed up lung development. But after that, we just wait.”

“I have to stay here?”

“Just for three or four days. If everything stays calm after that, you can go home…but bed rest until the babies are born,“ She looks at Heecheol, and then to Seungmin. “I’m counting on you to keep her there, and do everything she says.”

***

Seungmin doesn’t want to, but eventually, after convincing him you’d be alright by yourself, Heecheol and him head back to the apartment. It’s a quick, silent drive, and neither of them speak much until they’re on the elevator, halfway up the building.

Heecheol wants to say something to comfort him, but he doesn’t know where to start, and he doesn’t know if anything he says will help, so he keeps quiet for now. In place of conversation, he starts making more coffee while Seungmin shuts himself in the bathroom.

He takes a long shower, and he’s still silent as he heads for the bedroom wrapped in his towel. The sounds of him changing, and then the familiar sound of a pill being pushed from the blister pack filters out through the cracked door. Heecheol wonders how long he’s been taking Haldol, and how serious his condition is. Schizophrenia? Bipolar disorder? Both, possibly. It seems to be well under control, though, and he hopes Seungmin will talk to him about it.

The door swings open. “How likely is survival if they’re born this premature?” Seungmin asks. The doctor may be going over this with you right now, but he needs to know, too. And he needs to talk about it.

“Around 75…80%. Each week increases that percentage a little more.”

“I’m sorry you have to be here for all of this, Cheoli”

“I don’t mind. I can get someone to check in on umma; she’ll be fine.” He slides a coffee closer to him. “I’d hate to think about you all by yourself here, waiting around. Besides, you’ll need help getting this apartment ready if mom’s stuck in bed for a while.”

The list of things to finish is getting longer, and he wasn’t sure he’d have enough time before they arrived. Now he might have no time, but it doesn’t matter, as long as they make it home. “It would be nice to get the nursery done, even if they won’t be sleeping in there when they come home.” He reaches for his buzzing phone and sees a text from you already.

I know you just left, and you seemed fine, but are you okay? You can call or text whenever you want to, because I’m gonna bother you just as much

I will, but I’ll feel bad if I wake you. Keep your phone on do not disturb and I’ll feel much better about it. And sleep. If you’re hungry for something I’ll bring it in for you. AND I will be there tomorrow morning.

I will, I promise. I just had breakfast, and it was okay, but maybe you can make me some soft-boiled eggs and sneak them in? They only gave me a half of one :(

I’ll bring you as many eggs as you can eat. How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?

I am, I’m feeling good, no pains or anything…lots of kicks, I think they still want out

I’ll try to visit tonight before you go to bed, and I’ll tell them they need to stay put for while. Cheoli is going to help me finish putting things together here. Everything will be ready before you come home 🤍

the list I’ve been working on is in my drawer…we still have a lot to cross off

We’ll take care of everything, promise

***

Seungmin finds your notebook right where you said it would be. Next to it is your old one…the one you were using to practice Hangul months ago; the same one you wrote his name in over and over through the first few pages. He opens it to see everything still there, and then flips further back to see how much better your handwriting eventually became. You don’t feel confident speaking Korean, even though you practice with him all the time, and he’s being honest when he says you’re doing well. But no matter how much he reassures, you still believe you just can’t get it. A few nights ago, you made yourself cry from the fear of not being able to speak to them properly. It’s the first time in a long time, aside from last night, that Seungmin can remember feeling truly helpless when it comes to you; he can’t fix it…not without time.

It just…scrambles in my head, even when you speak slowly to me. I can’t make sense of it.

We’re going to be speak Korean and English to them, right? So you keep learning as they learn.

The new notebook is a baby planner, and it’s well-used. The side pockets are stuffed with pamphlets and information the doctor gave you in Daegu; older, messier lists to refer back to, and a paint color swatch for the greens Seungmin chose from. He flips to the middle where your much neater, much more organized lists are, starting with NURSERY: two cribs and everything that’s goes with them, two bassinets, changing table, dresser. Most of that is sitting in their respective boxes, untouched. Baby monitor, just one of those; blankets, too many to count; pacifiers, also too many to count. He flips the pages. Fortunately, most of that section is checked off.

Fatigue starts to creep up on him, and just as he flips to the next page (FEEDING) Heecheol sneaks up behind him. “Feeding, still need all of those. We can get a lot done today, but we need sleep first.”

He must see it on him, the exhaustion. Neither of them slept last night. “Yeah, I am very tired. I can hear Tokki yelling at me for it—if I just start working without at least trying to rest.”

“Can I ask where the nickname came from?”

“Tokki?”

“Mhm. She looks more like a deer than a bunny…feels like one, too.”

He thinks about it, picturing your face in his mind; your voice, and your walk. Maybe you are more like a deer, but you’ll always be Tokki to him. “That’s true, but…she’s my moon, I guess.”

“Your moon?”

“Yeah. We should get some sleep.”

***

Both of them get back into bed without bothering to set alarms, and they both sleep well into late afternoon. The sun is still up, just barely, when Heecheol finally opens his eyes, but his head is pounding. He decides to close his eyes again, and if Seungmin happens to wake up and need him, he’ll get up, but that doesn’t happen.

The first time Seungmin wakes, the sun is setting, and some of the light is pushing through the thick curtains. Before dozing off again, he watches it move across the room, and then he looks at his phone; no notifications. He knows you’re safe and resting, and that makes it even easier for him to slip back into sleep. But something creeps into his head without him realizing it; it was there last night, and when he sat in the hospital room watching your every move. It was there as he flipped through the baby book, trying to figure out his next step. It's been there since he went back into the woods; he's just gotten better at holding it back.

It’s full dark when he wakes again—10 o’clock. He slept too much, and the pain in his head is pulsing behind his eyes. He can’t remember what day it is, and why he’s been asleep. Why is he waking at this hour? Seungmin sits up. “Why is it so quiet?” He says to himself, and immediately falls back onto his pillow. Again, he looks at an empty phone, and then he scratches at the scar on his forearm. The empty spot to his left confuses him, and without thinking; without knowing exactly why, he jumps out of bed and opens his drawer.

“What? Where…is…” he moves a few things around. He doesn’t remember putting these things here, and he certainly doesn’t remember moving his tools. Seungmin moves to the dresser and checks each drawer. Nothing. Next is the closet. He glances at the bin by the door; the one filled with his old baby clothes, and a few forgotten toys, but he chooses to ignore it. The first thing he notices is a box, slightly larger than the photo boxes it’s sitting next to. It’s a nice box, with a hinged lid and a lock. And it’s locked. Does he have a key for this lock? Seungmin is pretty certain he has a key for every lock.

The ring of keys was in the drawer, so he and the box return to bed, and after four careful tries, it clicks.

“How did you get in here? I don’t remember...” He picks up his knife, safe in its leather sheath, and slowly pulls it out. It shines at him in the darkness, and he sees his reflection in the polished steel. “Oh well.”

Back to the closet, and then to the dresser. Black jeans, and a fitted tank top. Black boots—not his good ones, but they’re still nice—and two silver chains around his neck. He checks himself in the mirror before throwing on his jacket...runs his fingers through his hair and fluffs it up a little. By the time he walks out the door, he looks perfect.

***

Might as well just sleep the rest of the night, Heecheol thinks as he rolls around trying to get comfortable. He checks his phone for messages, and there’s nothing, so everything is fine at home. No need to worry. The headache is gone, at least, but he has to get up and rehydrate…maybe check in on Seungmin. He had a rough day, and meds or no meds, things can go downhill quickly.

The little hallway is dark, and so is the living room. One tiny light in the kitchen helps guide him toward the water, but not before noticing the light coming from Seungmin’s bedroom, so maybe he is up, and he is okay. Heecheol grabs his water and heads for the bathroom, but he doesn’t get far before something grabs his attention; a sound, and not a particularly nice sound. A gasp for air.

“Seungmin, are you up?” He says softly, and his heart pounds louder than his voice. One ear pressed against the door is his second mistake; the first being approaching it at all.

you…fucking…don’t fight me…do not touch me

“What the hell?”

A few seconds pass, and silence takes over. Heecheol is afraid to move in case the hardwood floor squeaks and gives him away, so he hears something else—a quiet groan, but it’s not Seungmin’s voice. He takes a chance when he starts to speak again, and somehow manages to make it to the nursery and close the door behind him. Just in time. The door opens, and light fills the living room. Heecheol’s view from the keyhole is a little too good, because the reflection on the knife seems to bounce right off of his door. The weapon almost distracts him from the fact that Seungmin’s hands are covered in blood, and a splatter of it managed to travel across his cheek. The bathroom light illuminates things a little more—Seungmin disappears inside, and Heecheol waits motionless; breathing in shaky breaths, and letting them out quietly. What is he witnessing right now? What did his friend do?

The bathroom water runs for a few minutes, and then he emerges again with a clean knife in his clean hands. The front door clicks, but there’s no way he’s leaving the apartment with a body (maybe—he doesn’t know if there’s a body anywhere…he could just be in a very vivid nightmare for all he knows) laying in his bedroom. Heecheol waits it out for another few minutes, but manages to unstick himself from his spot and grab his phone. A well-timed text might help clear things up, or confirm some very scary suspicions, but when he pulls up the message thread, he can’t do it.

The door opens and another light clicks on, and Seungmin is heading back to the bedroom. Thanks to the extra light, he can very clearly see what he’s now carrying; a neatly folded tarp, or…some type of plastic. A drop cloth you’d use while painting, possibly. And a bucket, he assumes full of cleaning supplies. There wasn’t much doubt in what he was hearing and seeing, especially with a knife in hand, but this confirms what he’s really, truly trying to push out of his head. Seungmin is preparing to dispose of a body, right in front of his eyes. Is he not worried Heecheol will hear or see him? “Maybe you’re not all there right now,” he whispers as he turns and somehow still gives his friend the benefit of the doubt; but not really…he knows what’s happening, sure, but maybe there’s something more. “What is wrong with me…he just killed someone, quietly…oh, Mo, what the hell is going on?”

He should be planning his escape right now—packing up and heading to the train station or finding a hotel. Why isn’t he moving?

A thud, the sound of plastic, and then he appears again, slowly. Seungmin comes back into his field of vision, back first, pulling the wrapped body little by little. He can’t make out much except a vague idea of size, and it’s not very small. Seungmin grunts a little each time he pulls, and then you hear his phone. Of course he turned the sound on in case you called or messaged him. Of course it’s you. He drops what he’s doing and hops over the body as he runs for it, and he gets there before you hang up.

“Hi sweetie, you’re up late…is everything okay?”

…nothing quite as frustrating as hearing one side of the conversation, Heecheol thinks. But not for long. Seungmin puts it on speaker and puts the phone in his pocket so he can continue. Apparently, Seungmin's mental break erased Heecheol from the equation.

why are you up so late? You don’t sound like you were sleeping

“I slept all day. I bet you did, too. How are you feeling?”

Yeah I fell asleep right after dinner. Did you eat? What are you doing?

“Uh, no…I haven’t eaten, not yet”

is Heecheol still there?

Hearing Seungmin say his name sends him into a panic, and he has to cup his head over his mouth to quiet his breaths.

“Is…Heecheol?” Seungmin pulls one more time, stops, and stands up straight. “Uhm…”

Minnie, what was that? What are you doing?

…and then he turns his head toward the nursery door. “Nuh…nothing.”

did you leave and come back with someone? Please tell me you didn’t do that, not right now…baby

Seungmin does something stupid. He’s never hung up on you, or ignored you; not until tonight. He hits the end call button and shoves the phone back in his pocket, and now Heecheol watches him approach. He freezes for a few more steps, but manages to quietly slip back under the covers and pretend to sleep.

“Heecheol?”

His heart feels on the brink of giving out. There’s no way he’ll fall for the fake sleeping unless he can relax. The door clicks and squeaks a little as it’s pushed open.

“Cheoli, are you...”

Deep, steady breaths. No, sound asleep…he heard nothing, and he saw nothing. But he’s not in the clear yet, because Seungmin is still there watching. Heecheol hears him sigh.

“...awake?”

The doors squeaks again, clicks shut, and Heecheol finally shifts. The phone rings again, so he knows Seungmin has returned to his job.

“Hey, I’m sorry—”

Don’t ever hang up on me like that

“I’m sorry, I am…I don’t know why I did this”

He must have turned the speaker off, but Heecheol can still hear you—your voice carries easily in the quiet apartment.

Are you at home? Did you finish?

“Yeah, almost. I made a mess, though.”

oh, no…

“Everything will be fine. I’ll clean up. Heecheol was asleep when I just looked in on him.”

No, Seungmin it’s happening again

“What, what’s happening?”

There’s no real answer on your end of the conversation, but there’s a horrible, anguished wail. The labor pains have already returned.

“Fuck, I’ll be there as soon as I can”

The call ends, and Heecheol is still stuck. Seungmin can’t run off with a dead body in the middle of the floor, so he has to clean up before he leaves, but he might not have much time. He can hear the sounds of him banging around, and he can’t begin to imagine how he’s taking care of this.

Seungmin grabs the end of the plastic again and pulls. He’s moving faster now, because he has to, and a few seconds later he’s out of the front door. The next apartment; the empty one they’ve started using as storage, is thirty feet down the hall, and Seungmin covers it quickly. Adrenaline pumping through him should make quick work of this.

The slam of the neighboring door gets Heecheol up again and peeking through the keyhole. He catches sight of Seungmin running by and pulling off his top, and after a few minutes of changing and cleaning up any leftover blood (he assumes), Seungmin bolts by again, slams the door shut, and everything goes quiet again.

“What the…fuck?” It’s strange hearing himself after the terrified silence. “Seungmin, what the fuck?” Now what is he supposed to do? Stay? Leaving in the middle of the night is out of the question, unless he wants to make it obvious he actually did witness a murder. Seungmin might have to get rid of him or anyone who knows—apparently not you, though. You knew exactly what he was up to, and even though you weren’t thrilled about it, you’re still here and carrying his children. Tokki should have dropped me and ran more than once already, but…I’ve been lucky. I’m not easy to deal with. He thinks he knows at least one reason why Seungmin is difficult. It’s almost 2am when he checks his phone again. In another minute, he’ll text him:

I heard the front door slam, and you were gone when I checked…everything okay?

It’s less than three kilometers to the hospital, so driving there at this hour should be quick. It takes three more minutes for a reply:

Yes I’m sorry Cheoli. I panicked and ran. I didn’t wanna wake you, but I’ll keep you updated.

If you can. Let me know if you need anything.

Maybe he doesn’t suspect anything. He is typically a deep sleeper, and Seungmin might remember that from when they were kids—hopefully he does. Heecheol is more worried about you, actually. You might not believe he missed the entire ordeal—you’re going to suspect he witnessed everything, even is Seungmin doesn’t. He needs time to process this, and the first thing he does is check the bedroom. It looks the same as it did last night, but it smells like a mix of disinfectant and the coppery scent of blood. The open balcony door hasn’t helped air it out yet. The only other thing that seems off is the wooden box sitting on his side of the bed. It’s closed, but it isn’t locked. “Oh no,” he cringes when he sees what’s inside; the knife, clean and back in its sheath; nylon rope; syringes; handcuffs.

It feels stupid as he’s doing it, but he heads to the kitchen and makes himself a cup of tea. He checks one of the cupboards and finds a hoard of snacks that he can only assume belongs to you. He pulls out an already open bag of chips and starts to eat while his tea steeps.

A few minutes later, a text message comes through, and it’s from Seungmin.

They can’t stop it this time, they’re preparing for delivery

“Damn. I’m sorry, buddy.” He says it out loud to himself, and immediately feels a horrible swirl in his stomach. Hours ago, he knew Seungmin deserved all of the good things he was finally getting. A good relationship, and a family of his own. He’s been through a lot, and Heecheol doesn’t even know how terrible Seungmin’s childhood actually was, but he just killed someone in his bedroom. It’s possible that both of you are killing; some sick version Natural Born Killers come to life. Is that actually how you two met?

It’ll be okay. They’ll take good care of them. All three of them.

They won’t let me in the room. They said I have to wait until things are more stable.

That’s normal. Just stay calm and they’ll let you in as soon as they can. I’m sure she’s asking for you. I can make my way down there.

He can?

Can you, Cheoli? I’m sorry you have to come down alone

Yes, he can. Seungmin needs him.

I’ll look for a ride right now

This has been his worst day in a very long time, and he can feel it in every single nerve in his body. His head aches, and his joints do, too; his heart hasn’t stopped racing since he woke from his very long nap. But his friend is coming to be by his side, and thinking about how close he came to ruining things is making him sick to his stomach. You, in that room, alone and in pain, has him on the verge of crying and screaming at everyone he sees sitting calmly in front of him. Can they not see how distressed he is? Why isn’t anyone telling him how you are?

“Hey, Mo”

Seungmin jumps, but smiles when Heecheol sits next to him in maternity waiting room. One of the nurses glances at them, but says nothing. “Thanks for coming.”

“That’s what friends are for.” He looks down at Seungmin’s fidgeting hands and sees blood that isn’t there. “Haven’t heard anything new?”

“No, I feel like everyone is ignoring me”

“I’m sure they’re not. It’s a stressful situation, and everyone is focused on making sure Tokki and the babies are both safe.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right”

“We’ll hear something soon”

***

The pain meds took hold, and the nurse made sure to tell you how lucky you are that they pushed them in time. Everything from your stomach to your knees is a partially numb, but every time you take a breath, you feel the pain.

“I’m going to see if things are progressing…” a nurse says and pushes hard on one of your knees. She speaks to another nurse first, than to you. “Still five centimeters.”

Still. You’ve been at five since the pains first started. “When can I see Seungmin?”

“Seungmin?” One looks to the other and asks.

“Nampyeonbun”

“Oh…the cute, pouty one sitting in the waiting room? She whispers in Korean to her partner. “Soon, you’ll see him soon”

You look everywhere for your phone, but one of them must have taken it when things started getting chaotic.

“Don’t cry, everything will be fine. Doctor will be here soon, and she’ll know exactly what to do.”

She will, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s too soon, and it’s very possible that, no matter how smoothly the delivery goes, you could still lose one, or even both of them. That can’t happen—you won’t be able to handle losing what you thought you never wanted, or failing to keep his children alive. And Seungmin won’t be able to cope with losing another piece of himself.

“Should we go get him?”

Just as she asks, the doctor arrives, only slightly deshelved from the 2am phone call. She smiles at you just like before; a bad attempt at hiding her obvious concern. “Where’s dad? Not sleeping, I’m sure.”

“I was just going to get him”

The other nurse moves to stand by your bedside. “No progress in dilation for an hour. Five centimeters, currently.”

“Thank you. Did the epidural work?”

“Sort of”

“If you don’t progress in the next half an hour, we should consider other options.”

The nurse returns, and Seungmin comes in quietly behind her. He’s pale, and his cheeks are red and blotchy. He looks as if he’s been awake for two days straight. His approach is hesitant at first, as if he’s afraid to touch you, but when you whisper his name, he breaks out into a smile. “Hey.” He touches your hand and you pull him until he puts his arms around you. “Please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to be so careless.”

“I’m not, I promise”

“We were just discussing other options that may become necessary”

“What options?” Seungmin asks.

“Heart rates have returned to normal, but they may not stay that way. C-section would be less stressful for mom, and less traumatic for the boys.”

He looks to you, hopeful, thinking that’s an easy solution to this problem. “Is that something you would want?”

It might be. “If I have to, I will.”

“Okay,” the doctor nods. “Only if necessary. We’ll check again in thirty minutes. We’ll leave you two alone, but call if you need anything.”

***

The two of you stare silently at each other, waiting for the other to speak. Seungmin squeezes your hand, and eventually drops his gaze to your stomach. His other hand feels for any movement.

“What happened?”

“Not sure. I woke up and…it felt like what I had to do. Maybe all the worry and stress caught up to me.”

You squeeze back. “I’m only upset because I’m worried you were disassociating again, and not all there. Do you remember everything? Did he see you?”

The finer details are already lost on him, now that you mention it. He’s forgetting this, just like he couldn’t remember wandering into the woods, or what he did while he was there. He doesn’t even remember the feeling creeping up on him; the voice pushing him to do it. What he does remember is making a mess. The knife seemed like the obvious solution to quell the need. “Some. And no, I don’t think so. He’s in the waiting room.”

“He’s here?”

Seungmin nods, and you reach out to rub a spot on his neck. “I didn’t have time to clean up properly...what is it?” It feels like he’s setting off your pains. Every time he does something stupid, they return. “Should I call someone back?”

“I know I can’t push but…fuck, they’re making it very hard”

“Okay, you’re supposed to do the breathing techniques, right? No pushing, just nice big breaths.”

You breath in and out as steadily and calmly as possible, and Seungmin does it with you. It feels good doing it with him, and eventually, the contraction passes.

“No meds for the pain?”

“Yeah, it helped a little. I can still feel it.”

He’s surprisingly calm, and maybe he’s truly confident that everything will be okay. The last twenty-four hours have been more than stressful, and his kill seems to have grounded him—at least he’s gained that much. Not having him clear-headed and here with you is something you let yourself worry about far too much.

Another pain shoots through you, this time a little worse. He panics and pushes the call button on the side of your bed, and the doctor makes it in the see the very end of your contraction.

“Was that your first contraction since we left?”

“Second”

“Let’s check things out.” She pats your knee sweetly, and her bedside manner is a relief compared to both of your nurses. A few seconds into her inspection, and again you’re relieved to see a non-worried smile on her face. “Good, almost there. One more contraction and you might be ready to let them out.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to wash up and change, and dad is going to join me so he can stay.”

For five minutes, you’re completely alone again. The only sound is the woosh of two heartbeats, and when you look at the machine you’re hooked up to, you see your own heart rate sitting at 90. Baby 1 is 125, and baby 2 is 130. It occurs to you now that the two of you haven’t discussed who is who, so it’s the first thing you say when he walks back in, and he’s almost unrecognizable in his mask and gown.

“First born…Haneul or Haesung?”

Seungmin adjusts his mask, and his eyes look even more intense peeking over it. “Huh? Oh, who is Haneul and…I guess we never thought about that part. Should the oldest be Sky? And Haesung is little brother.”

“That sounds good”

The mask doesn’t hide his sudden worry. That’s all in his eyes, but he does his best to keep his mind on you. Seungmin made sure to update Heecheol before getting ready, and before he got his attention, he looked lost. He looked like he wasn’t sure which direction to go in. Heecheol’s foot tapped nervously, and he was chewing on his fingers, but Seungmin doesn’t think any of that was because of the situation they’re in here at the hospital. No. Now he’s wondering if Heecheol did hear something. Or worse—see something. As soon as he saw him approach, he perked up and gave him a smile.

“Delivery time. You can stick around if you’d like, or I can call a ride and you can get some sleep. I’m sorry your visit has been so strange.”

Strange doesn’t quite cover it. Running to and from the hospital has been very normal by comparison, and honestly, good bonding time for him and Seungmin. “How about I stick around for a little longer, and then when I know everything is okay, I’ll head back and put that nursery together.”

“You don’t have to do that”

“I know. But I’d like to. I’ll make myself something, get some coffee going, and you stay here as long as you need to.”

“Cheoli, I…when I say I don’t deserve a friend like you, I mean it. If things go well tonight, and I desperately need them to, it’s not because I deserve anything. Tokki does. I don’t.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“My heart, and my very damaged head”

He shakes his head and forces himself to smile. Does he know he knows? Is he attempting damage control? No. Heecheol doesn’t really think that’s the case. That might be part of it, but the bigger part is his sincerity, and his genuine aversion to himself. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

***

The doctors voice is floating somewhere in the room, but you can’t catch all the words. Her face is between your legs, and Seungmin has decided he doesn’t need to see what’s happening down there. He has your hand cupped between his, and he keeps putting his face into the sheets out of frustration. You’re dilated, but nothing is happening. You haven’t felt the urge to push in at least ten minutes.

Two incubators are pushed against the wall, ready and waiting, and every time you catch sight of them, it makes you a little more nervous. “Tell them to come out,” you whine, and the doctor laughs when she hears you.

“I think they’re going to listen to one of you better than me. Go ahead, talk to them.”

Seungmin takes her advice and scoots a few inches to his right. He bends close enough to set his lips against the little bit of skin showing between your gown and the blanket draped over your lap. “Are you two sleeping? It’s not a good time…you can nap after you come out and say hello.” He stops and waits a few seconds. “Please, I know it’s early but I would really like to meet you.”

Another few seconds, and you start to relax again, but you should know better. This isn’t the first, or second, or third time they’ve responded to his voice. This contraction doesn’t hit hard—it progresses slowly until you can’t take the pressure…

“Deep breath and a nice, slow push…good! Slow and steady. We have an appearance.”

“We do?”

“Hopefully you’ll only have a moment to rest, and then one push should give us your first born.”

She’s right. You get three full breaths before the next one comes, and when you push, you think Seungmin might crush your fingers under his grip.

“Good…keep pushing, very good. There he is, baby boy number one.”

All you see is the top of her head as she works quietly, and Haneul is quiet, too. Seungmin doesn’t move, but he does soften his grip.

“You worked hard, little one. I know you can cry for us.”

Seungmin takes a step towards them. “What’s wrong?” He’s wrapped and cradled in her arms, and sees a tiny foot and the briefest glimps of his face as he’s handed to one of the nurses. “Is he okay?”

“Just making sure his airways are clear, no need to worry.”

The nurse suctions his mouth and each nostril before setting him down and pulling at his blanket, and it’s right now that Seungmin gets his first real look him Haneul. Too small, but otherwise, he looks just like he imagined him all this time. There’s more hair on his head, though—for some reason, he wasn’t expecting so much already. His quiet cry finally comes, and everyone sighs in relief. It gets louder and louder until he’s wrapped up tight again.

“He sounds pretty strong for barely twenty-six weeks. Let’s get him comfortable, and after little brother arrives, we’ll bring them back in for a visit.”

The doctor takes her place between your legs again, and you try your best to tell him it’s time. Following his brother out should come naturally, right? You would really prefer them to only be minutes apart, because if you have to wait another ten—twenty minutes like this, you’re going to start crying.

“Hey, you okay?” Seungmin cups your cheeks and makes you look at him.

“Did you see him?”

“A little, yeah”

Lucky you; the contraction hits quickly, and it’s the worst one. The partial numbness is fading, and it might be in your head, but you’re certain you feel every part of him as he makes his way out. No scream, though. You decide to do that inside your own head so Haesung comes out to a calmer, more peaceful room

“Oh, that was fast…very good”

Seungmin doesn’t inch closer for a look; he retreats until he’s at your side again, and you wonder if he’s afraid of not hearing another little cry. His stare gives you his answer. “He’ll be okay. They’ll both be okay.”

The doctor stands, and you see him as she turns and heads toward the table. Again, just like his brother, his airways are cleared. And Seungmin inches closer.

“Please, don’t punish him for what I’ve done”

You hear him whisper, and you wonder if anyone else does.

She looks back and beckons him closer, and he hesitates again. “Come here and say something to him.”

Seungmin takes a few steps closer, and when he finally sees Haesung, he can’t believe how small he is. Smaller than his brother, he thinks, and with a little less hair. “Hi baby. Haesung, do you know who I am?”

You can make out almost every word of his soft, slow Korean from here. It feels strange to understand him after so much trying, but you do. He shifts a little so you can see better; you can see both of them as Seungmin runs his finger across an arm that isn’t much different in size. There’s still no dramatic cry, but he’s moving the only way something so new and weak can manage, and you do hear the tiny fussy noises all the way across the room. The doctor doesn’t seem worried, so you aren’t either.

***

Being left in the room alone to wait and wonder is excruciating...so much more difficult than anything has been the last twenty-four hours. There’s so much you can say to him, and ask him, but it’s not the time. It might not be the time until his friend questions and accuses Seungmin of the things you know he witnessed. This is really the only way to keep your mind off of the twins—you have to wonder if Heecheol is putting the Haldol and the strange behavior together; your question about him wandering into the woods as a child; his failed attempt to open up about something to both of you.

“Is Heecheol still here?”

“I think so. I let him know what was going on a few minutes ago, but he hasn’t responded yet.”

“Okay, let me know when he does”

The nurse finally returns, and she’s pulling something in behind her. The second nurse pushes from the other end, and you finally get your second wind. It no longer feels like you're running on almost no sleep. They’re here, and they must be okay if they’re coming to visit. No doctor coming in alone to break the bad news that one, or both of them, have a very slim chance of making it more than a few days. A few hours. You kept trying to prepare yourself for that moment to come, just in case, but no amount of that could ever make things any easier.

And you’re pleased to see a new, much happier looking nurse with them. She must be one of their new carers in the NICU.

“Baby Haneul is 1.3 kilograms, much bigger than we expected! Baby Haesung is 1.14 kilograms. They are both breathing well with a little bit of help from the incubator, and they are very excited to see you.”

Seungmin backs away as they’re rolled closer to the bed. Everything still feels a little bit dreamy to him, even as he looks down and sees them, face to face, arms carefully entertwined as if they can't get close enough. "They're both alright?" They were safe inside of you. They were warm, and well fed. Every night, Seungmin spoke to them, or read them stories. A few times, he sang. And now…

"Haesung is not quite as strong as his brother, but being cuddled up together will help get him there."

"It will?"

The nurse nods at both of you. "I'll leave the four of you alone to meet each other, but please ring the bell if you need anything."

She leaves, and suddenly, it's just him…and you…and them. The four of you. He sits so he can be at eye level and takes in everything about them; the little bit of dark hair, and tiny noses. Their perfect tiny lips, pursing and puckering as if they're waiting for their first real meal.

“They have your ears”

Seungmin cups his hands over them, “do they?” He tugs at his earlobes and smiles as he examines a little closer. “Can we touch them?”

“Yeah, you can”

This part is hard for him, no matter how excited he is. Before he reaches, you watch him get up and walk across the room where the sink is, and he washes his hands for the third time since they were taken from the room. He takes his time, inching closer and closer until Haneul shifts, and Seungmin’s fingertip moves softly across his shoulder. He squirms a little, and his arms seem to tighten around his brother. Now he’s feeling more confident, and he very gently runs the same finger over the helix of his ear. And then he does the same to Haesung. “Can you hear me in there?” Seungmin asks. “Do you recognize my voice?”

They both move and fuss a little more, as if answering.

“I think they do”

“You understood what I said?”

You wince as you adjust yourself and sit up. “Uh, I think so—mogsoli…nae mogsoli. Your voice…yeah, they know your voice, Min.”

“Gimme your hand.” He wiggles his fingers above them, close to the portal hole on your side, and he latches onto your fingers.

[kari-sims]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thanks @theplottdump for the tag, mwah! <3

-> tagging @kissalopa @sharona-sims @limeysims @mosneakers @eurosimmer @waaneco @pixelshary @pudsim @polarmoon @butteredfrogs @simsfvr @whyeverr @buildbuymode @zorteh @philodendrontrait @kazroze @marcishaun @nervousgnome @charsimsalot @enchantsims (sorry if you've been tagged/done this already! and no pressure if you dont want/can't do it, just have fun ˙ᵕ˙ ) and anyone whose my dummy brain forgot, please feel free to do so if you want too ♡

I don't have screenshots for every month unfortunately, (i took an almost two year break and came back to the game for real around april of this year) so this will be just 24 random screenshots i love (in no particular order). Not much happens in my game because i don't interfere that much, but i hope this isn't too boring heh

The usual Realm of Magic shenanigans: distracting Simeon from his job, fangirling over L. Faba, and old man being old.

Ellie's house renovation was my favorite thing to decorate over the months. I'm always adding things to it, and by things i mean frogs. All of the frogs.

Her garden is also my favorite place to be. Sometimes i just like to watch the bunnies running around, the grass moving, the birds chirping... and then i remember the game is running. It's really nice though.

Change doesn't happen very often in my game, but something cute sparked between these two after i decided to stop constantly ignoring and re-rolling her wants. I'm not gonna say much about it cause - and i know it's not that serious - i'm still processing it two months later lol, maybe one day...

Life and Death was so much fun, Ravenwood is now my favorite world to visit! I had no plans of getting the pack anytime soon, so i still can't believe i got to play with it when it released (thanks little fairy ♡)

Some of my favorite edits i've done this year. Apart from Ellie's shot (which was taken with no reshade on a day the game had some crazy good lighting), the others were done while i was trying to learn some stuff from one of my favorite editor's (strange-townie) speed edit videos. I hope i get more time this year to practice and learn more! (before & after album)

Favorite pictures of Ellie's best friends: old goofy lvl. 1 wizard relaxing in his new home & the unbothered rebel sage.

This year i also got to play with my favorite nerdy gamer boy. He was just a sim from a cas practice thing i did. I don't usually get attached to random sims i make, but for some reason he was just very special to me ( ꈍ ᴗ ꈍ ) ♡

I wanted to end this by saying i'm very grateful for everything i have experienced this year, and the warm welcome i've received. I'm really happy some people like my silly saturated pictures :D i promise next year i'll annoyingly fangirl and obsess over other people's lovely creations even more, so thanks for making this place such an inspiring one to be ♡ Happy holidays!◝( ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ )◜₊ ⊹₊ ⊹

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 6 Kitsune

Kitsune, trickster foxes from traditional Japanese folklore. They are a type of yōkai, a class of supernatural creatures with godlike powers, often equated to the English ghoul or demon. Kitsune are noted for their paranormal abilities, particularly metamorphosis. As they age, these abilities can become more powerful.

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @shadyd3ar @cherrysuzaku

@nousija

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

A young lady's wedding day.

It's supposed to be the happiest day of her life ever.

And to be fair, your wedding was a good one. Hilarious too. However only because your dancing husband sprouted a pair of fluffy ears and nine tails while dancing to music after the ceremony much to the horrified looks of all the other guests as not one but three Kitsune spirits had infiltrated the ceremony and were now chuckling at their mischief making.

"How did this happen?," they cried in fear watching them dance and cackle around you.

It was quite simple really. It started with a hello. A hello from one child to another. Long ago back when you were very little, and your Aunt was the shrine maiden to the local Kitsune shrine. You went there all the time to play under her supervision and run through the trees and splash in the small stream in the back. Plenty of hiding places to find and new things to explore. On one of these escapades you bounded down the stone path and up to where your aunt was cleaning up the inside of the shrine, with some baked sweet potatoes to leave as offerings in hopes the spirits will continue to bring good fortune. But there was something new about the shrine today and it was the child sitting upon the steps to the shrine about your age. 

He played upon the stone steps with a small stick throwing it up and then catching it again over and over. He didn't even look at you as you toddled up to him with the basket and just stared at him continuing to play by himself until you spoke.

"What game are you playing?"

The boy let out a fox like yip in surprise before whirling around to stare at you wide eyed. It was only then your child eyes realized that he had giant fluffy ears on his head amongst his wild blonde hair and a bristled up tail behind him. However in your child innocence, those details went right over your head. Meanwhile the boy stared at you in absolute shock.

"You can see me?!"

"Duh. You're standing right in front of me, Silly," you giggled as he blinked again. The stick he was playing with falling to the ground with a thud.

His face scrunched up before making a motion for you to shoo. "Well stop seeing me. You're not supposed to be seeing me!"

"But why?"

"Because my father says so! Humans aren't supposed to be able to see us unless we want them too and I don't want you to."

"But why doesn't he want me to see you?"

"Uuuuhh...I dunno. I never asked."

"Y/n? Is that you?" Your aunt walked out of the shrine with a broom in her hand blinking. "Who are you talking to?"

You smiled pointing to your friend. "My friend!"

You aunt seemed to stare right past the boy as if she couldn't see him before chuckling. "Oh. A friend. And would this friend happen to be imaginary?"

"Nu uh! We were just talking about his stick game!"

Your aunt laughed at you before turning away. "Sure you were. You better bring those offerings in here before an animal makes off with them."

"Ok!"

"I'm your friend?"

You looked back to the strange boy. "Do you wanna be?"

He lit up brightly. "SURE! I never had a friend before!" He sniffed around before looking at the basket. "Are those sweet potatoes?"

"Want one?"

"Yes please!" You held out the basket and he immediately took one, taking a large bite. "UMAI!"

You two had lots of fun together playing games and watching him perform small tricks with fire. No one was the wiser to his true nature only passing him off as your imaginary friend. It didnt matter in the moment. You both were just children at play. One day your friend brought someone new to play with you both. His toddler younger brother who was the spitting image of his older brother but smaller and cuter. You didn't mind. That just meant you had two friends now! Playing tricks on each other was a favorite past time for them. Harmless little games like keep away or throwing mud or even sneaking up and scaring you. 

However the day you met a third person like your friends was the day those around you started to worry with horror in their minds.

"Hey! You wanna come home with me?", your friend asked you one day. 

You looked up from the frog his little brother was poking at and blinked. "Your home?"

He nodded before pointing at the gate that you had to cross under on your way to the shrine. "It's just through there! Normal people can't come in, but I can take you and you can see my really cool house!" 

"I don't know. My aunt won't like it if Im not back before sundown."

"I'll bring you back way before dinner time!"

"Well ok. Let me tell my aunt first!"

You did but the adult laughed it off as a cute little interaction between a child and her imaginary friends. She didn't even notice how your friends took you by the hands and lead you under the gateway, disappearing into the air without a trace.

Your eyes were filled with amazement at the sights of a beautiful mansion. Way more beautiful than the shrine your aunt took care of. It was beautifully structured and seemed to be straight out of a fantasy. More so was the two people sat up on the front deck of the building. A man who looked exactly like your friends, only older and instead of one fluffy tail there was nine majestic long ones splayed out behind him. And a woman who didn't look much older than your aunt at the time. Both looked up at the incoming children but completely paused up on seeing you getting pulled towards them.

"Mother! Father! Look! We brought home Y/n!," you friend announced gesturing to you. "She can see us and cross the gates!"

"What?! She's real? I thought you both were making up something again like that mermaid," the older man barked but his face still looked surprised to see the young girl before him. 

"Nuh uh! And Tengen is too real too! You just haven't met him yet either!"

He ignored the boy in exchange for staring at you up and down. "So...You can see my kids huh? What's your name?"

"I'm Y/n! You look ready fluffy, Mister!"

"He IS fluffy! Father's tails are the perfect napping spot! You should try it sometime!"

The man sputtered and shot the woman an embarrassed look as she chuckled. "Well this is a surprise. Do you children want some mochi? I made some fresh from the oven."

"YAY!! Mochi!"

You didn't know how long you stayed exactly running around and playing with your friends but eventually it was time for you to go home. Instructing you to just cross back through the gate and you'd be right back home. However before you left, your friend gave you a smile. 

"Y/n, when we're all grown up I'm going to marry you!"

"Ew! Like kissing and stuff? Yuck! That's so gross! No thanks!"

"Yes I will! Just you wait and see!" 

When you came back you were met with quite a sight. At least twelve people including your aunt and parents was sweeping throughout the shrine and nearby woods now staring in shock at the girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air. Everyone stared at you stunned by the fact before demanding that you tell them where you were. And your innocent self did. 

From your friend's home to playing and having so much fun! While you happily smiled, the others looked on in horror. You hadn't just been seeing an imaginary friend but a real spirit who had already set his sights upon yourself. 

It's why you were so sad when your aunt banned you from the shrine anymore and a few weeks after your parents sent you far away to live with your grandparents. You didn't understand why? Did you do anything wrong? You were happy where you were.

But all things fade.

Years passed. You grew up and had forgotten most of what happened with your childhood. Convincing yourself too it was all just pleasant childhood memories. You grew up, moved on, and began starting you own life. Working away on your grandparents small farm until a knock came to your door one day. You all answered it to quite a sight indeed.

A man was standing on the other side but he had very unusual striking features. Firey blonde hair that faded to red at the tips and a pair of striking flaming eyes to match. He stood proud and tall in the doorway staring down at your surprised grandparents with the politest of smiles.

"GREETINGS!!," He greeted in a booming voice making you all jolt at the sheer volume. "Is this the L/n residence perchance?"

"Y-Yes. Who are you?"

*I am Kyojuro Rengoku and I am here to court your granddaughter!"

The announcement so bold and blunt was very off guard. It stunned you all but the man, Kyojuro, was so very polite. He asked to come in, complimenting your home, and even asked for permission from both yourself and your grandparents to start courting you. Your grandmother unsurprisingly jumped to an immediate yes whilst your grandfather was more reluctant..but agreed after seeing him produce a small gold bracelet as a courting gift. It was a plain gold band, not even with gems or patterns, but the fact that it was a GOLD bracelet said something about his wealthy status. You however were more taken aback by everything and...

Why did this man seem so familiar to you?

You asked him that very question and he was happy to answer. "A long time ago we met as children! You probably don't remember me as we were very young but I remembered you!"

That wasn't too far out there and it explained the deja vu but there was... something else you couldn't put your mind on. And he was very honest about everything you all asked if him.

Why did he want to marry you? "I liked you from the moment we met long ago! Your personality is still the one I want!" What did his family do? "We have an estate not far from here! It even has a shrine sitting upon it!" Oh. So his family runs a shrine? "Partially!" 

That explained the wealth you guessed. Well he didn't seem that bad so you accepted his courtship with your grandparents' approval! It was a beautiful relationship. Kyojuro was everything a girl would want in a husband. Kind, compassionate, understanding, respectful- If the word perfect was a human then Kyojuro was it. He was also very playful... However you couldn't help but feel strange whenever you heard him laugh or crack small jokes. It was like you were reliving some forgotten about past ..but you couldn't put your finger on it. Oh well.

All that matters what that you fell heads over heels for this man so when he asked you to marry him, you didn't hesitate to say yes! It was perfect. The planning was perfect and you were able to chose whatever you wanted. However Kyojuro only wanted one thing-

"I want our wedding to take place at the Fox shrine in your hometown."

"Huh? Why?"

"It's a good meeting spot for both our families since it's right in the middle between them! And it's a sacred place to me, so I'd really like to have it there."

Well you didn't have any objections to that, and neither did your aunt when you sent her a message asking about it. Plus you didn't think anything of it. Just that you were going to be getting married to the man you loved, your family would be there, and you were going to meet his family too! It was the perfect story scene out of a fairytale.

Nothing went wrong at all. The travel back home was pleasant. Kyojuro swept the rest of your family off their feet the same smiling way he did your grandparents. You got to meet his little brother and parents..whom while we're very polite, ignited another round of deja vu that you ultimately brushed off as the nerves getting to you. 

The ceremony was so beautiful. 

You cried three times throughout that you just gave up on trying to make sure your make up was good. Not that your husband seemed to mind, holding your hand as you cried and just kepr telling you how beautiful you were. It was only after-

After the ceremony.

The exact second after he officially became your husband.

You heard him give off a noise. A sound like the small giggles of a fox. That's when you looked at his smile. Perfectly white teeth were replaced with fangs and two large ears sprung up on the tops of his head as he looked at you grinning.

The first shriek from a woman bled out into the opening as the spirit sprung up, tails swaying and a wide smile on his face as the humans screamed in horror at the trickery he managed to pull over on them. You stared shocked as spirits danced humans screamed out in terror and fled from the smiling Yokai and you were only left there to watch in shock and slightly fear at the mischievous grin wide in front of your face.

"..Why?"

"Because, Little Flame.~ To trick the trickster is to be rectified by the greatest deceivement in return."

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Four

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing of note this chapter, except a moment of sickeningly awkward cuteness (I'm so sorry). All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.8k

A/N : The aftermath of last chapter. Tumblr is still only letting me tag five people at a time, so tags will be in comments again.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

Chapter Four

You woke to find yourself on the sofa, covered with a blanket, alone and with only a vague recollection of what had happened the night before. Your hand had been bandaged and you felt worse than ever. The room was spinning, your head pounding, and finally you understood why; blood loss. You’d drawn blood and, then, you’d let him drink from you; it had been too much and you’d lost consciousness.

It took a moment more for you to remember everything else that had happened; how he’d pressed his body to yours, how he’d kissed you, and how you’d - oh god, your boss had made you come. 

Panic washed over you for a second, your hand reaching between your thighs, terrified that something had happened after you passed out. No. You breathed a sigh of relief and found yourself feeling silly for even thinking that Billy would do something like that. From what little you knew of him, you didn’t think he was capable of that.

Despite being completely alone, you pulled the blanket up, hiding your face and your embarrassment. You closed your eyes and all you could see was his face, blood covered lips and dark eyes filled with hunger - and not just hunger for blood.

You remembered his lips on your neck, the scrape of teeth - fangs - as you came. Gingerly, you ran your fingers over your skin, searching for puncture marks but, thankfully, found none. 

As much as you wanted to move, to go back to your bedroom, you were too exhausted and, soon enough, you ended up falling asleep again. 

Hours must have passed and you certainly felt better for it when you finally opened your eyes again.

At some point a bottle of water and a note had been left on the floor next to the sofa, though you couldn’t say if they’d been there the whole time or if he’d placed them there after you’d fallen asleep again.

You decided to start with the water, taking a slow drink to steady your nerves before reading the note. It was impossible to stop your mind from going into overdrive, from thinking of all the things that the note might contain; was he going to fire you for your unprofessional behaviour, was he angry that you broke the rule about being in the penthouse after 9pm?

Your fingers shook as you unfolded the note and started to read.

I want to apologise for my behaviour last night, it was unacceptable and I understand if you want to terminate your contract because of it. If you want to leave, please let Lissa know and she will retrieve your things from storage. If you choose to stay, you will have the next couple of days to yourself to recover. I’ll be gone until Friday and won’t need blood before then. 

Whatever you decide, I’ve arranged for my friend Karen to visit you tomorrow and, if you still want to, you have permission to go out with her for the day. If you want to leave, she will help you with whatever you need to do so. Please take care of yourself.

Billy.

You read and reread the note, trying to figure out what he wanted from you. The note felt so detached, almost like he was assuming you’d want to leave. 

(Did you? Was that really what you wanted?)

You read it again before sitting up, noticing the dried blood on your pyjamas. Common sense told you to leave, to get your things and get out of there as quickly as possible. Last night had been stupid and reckless, you’d done the one thing you’d promised yourself you’d never do; you’d let a vampire drink directly from you.

Okay, so he hadn’t bitten you, but what was to say that next time he wouldn’t? But, by the same logic, what was to say that he would? He could have done anything he wanted to you, but he hadn’t. And what he had done you’d allowed. No, you’d been an active participant. You’d enjoyed it. (Who were you trying to kid? You’d wanted it.) He’d told you to stay away and you’d ignored him. It had been your choice to feed him, your choice to let him kiss you, even though you knew he wasn’t in his right mind.

Embarrassed as you were, some part of you had wanted what had happened last night and, now, you had to live with the consequences. 

You read the note one last time. Please take care of yourself, you weren’t sure if those five little words made it better or worse. He always seemed so concerned with how fragile you were, and you still weren’t sure if it came from a place of caring or of liability, but it felt like he was staying away from his own home because of you.

No, you quickly decided, you didn’t want to leave. You couldn’t. You needed the money and last night was as much your fault as Billy’s. 

Staying was still far better than the alternative.

Eventually you managed to get up and move to your rooms, grabbing yourself a bowl of cereal on the way to bed. You put the TV on, but more for background noise than anything and spent the rest of the day dozing, only getting up to get more cereal.

Instead of thinking about what had happened, you started thinking about tomorrow, about finally being able to go outside and see some of New York City. What would his friend Karen be like? Would she be able to tell you anything about Billy? Finally, you had something to look forward to, even though you were worried that Billy had only arranged it out of guilt.

You felt much better the next day when you woke up, in part because you were excited to finally go outside and see some of the city but, also, because you were looking forward to meeting Billy’s friend and having someone new to talk to. The weather outside looked cold and wet, so you dressed accordingly, pulling a lovely blue jacket and pair of boots from your wardrobe to put on over your jeans and blouse.

Just before midday, you heard someone calling your name, and you quickly went out to greet them. She had stunning red hair and skin so pale you might have thought she was a vampire if you weren’t about to go out in daylight with her. It was enough to make you pause, to make you wonder how she knew Billy, an odd twinge of jealousy filling you for a second.

“Hi, I’m Karen,” she smiled and held out her hand. You took it and introduced yourself properly, even though she already knew your name. “Oh, what happened to your hand?”

Your cheeks warmed a fraction, looking down at your bandaged hand for a second. “I caught it taking some cookies out of the oven.”

“Ouch,” Karen winced sympathetically, seeming to buy the lie. “Billy said you wanted to go for coffee?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” you answered, feeling overcome with relief the moment you stepped into the elevator.

“You got any place in mind?” Karen asked, subtly looking you up and down like she was trying to get a measure of you.

“I - I don’t know. This is my first time in New York, I don’t really know where anything is.” 

“And this is the first time he’s let you outside,” she stated.

For a second you looked at her, confused, wondering how much she knew, how much she was supposed to know. Lissa had told you that Billy valued his privacy and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to say in this situation. The uncomfortable look on your face must have been enough to tip Karen off that you didn’t know how to answer.

“He has his reasons,” she started again as the elevator arrived on the ground floor and you stepped out, “I know it probably doesn’t seem like it right now, but he is trying to look out for you.”

“How do you know him?” You asked.

“I met him through his best friend when we started dating.”

“Oh. And is he...?” You left the question unfinished, not sure if it was polite to ask.

“A vampire?” She smiled the sort of carefree smile that you couldn’t help feel envious of, like she didn’t care what anyone thought of her. “Yes, he is.”

Stepping out onto the street, you couldn’t help but stop for a moment, turning your eyes skyward and taking a deep breath. It took a second for your eyes to get used to natural light and, all the while, Karen stood watching you.

“How long has it been?” Her question pulled you back to the moment.

“A couple of weeks, I think?” You tried to remember, but you’d lost track of how long exactly it had been after the first week. However long it had been, it wasn’t really long enough to warrant that sort of reaction from you. Your cheeks warmed a fraction as you looked at Karen. “I’m not really used to being cooped up indoors all the time.”

Karen just nodded, waiting a beat before starting to walk. You fell into step beside her, your eyes taking in the sights of New York. You had no idea where she was leading you but you didn’t care. You were finally seeing the city and you couldn’t be happier.

Less than five minutes later, you found yourself in a little coffee shop, looking at the pastries and cakes on offer before you realised something.

“I don’t have any money,” you told Karen, your cheeks turning red, an uncomfortable sense of shame filling you.

It hadn’t even crossed your mind; you always had a purse with you or your phone, but Lissa had taken them and you weren’t going to be paid until you’d completed a year in Mr Russo’s service. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Karen replied, starting to fumble around with her purse before pulling out a black credit card and handing it to you. “Billy asked me to give you this for anything you need.”

The card had your name embossed on it but there was nothing else to indicate - well, anything at all. You didn’t know if it was a prepaid card or if it had a limit, and there was no way of telling where the money would be coming from.

“The PIN is your birth year,” Karen continued, though she seemed more interested in eyeing the food selection than she was in you.

After a moment more, you decided that you’d ask Billy about it when you next saw him (assuming you ever saw him again, after the other night). You choose modestly, not wanting to spend too much on a card that wasn’t yours and that you couldn’t control. For all you knew, you were spending Billy’s money and the last thing you wanted to do was take advantage of this gesture of kindness.

And that was something Karen did notice, watching you from the corner of her eye with a somewhat bemused expression on her face as you calculated just how much money you’d be spending getting a drink, a panini, and a muffin. Then, you held your breath as you used the card for the first time, preparing yourself for the embarrassment of it being declined.  It wasn’t. You breathed a sigh of relief before following Karen to a little table by the window.

Your eyes were fixed on the street outside, watching as it started to rain, but you could feel her eyes on you.

“You’re not like the others,” she finally broke the silence. 

“What were they like?” You asked with a healthy degree of caution, still not knowing what the rules were and what you were allowed to talk to her about. “Lissa said that they disappointed Mr Russo?”

She sat back, biting her lip and trying to suppress a smile. You couldn’t tell what part of it she found amusing and you didn’t want to ask.

“Disappointed is one word for it, I guess?” she took a breath, obviously composing her thoughts before continuing. “Did you know that you’re the first one he didn’t interview himself?”

You shook your head; you’d applied for the job by email and had spoken to someone (you now assumed to be Lissa) very briefly over the phone. In retrospect, it seemed strange given the amount of money that was at stake.

Unless he didn’t bother because he assumed you’d disappoint him like the others…

“The problem with Billy - with the whole job, really - is that it usually attracts a... certain sort of person. Most of them have only been interested in the money and spending a year living in the lap of luxury. The others are...” she fell silent, smiling as the barista brought your toasted paninis over and, when you were alone again, she looked like she really didn’t want to finish her thought.

“The others are...?” You prompted cautiously.

“They’re the sort of people who want more from the arrangement than Billy is prepared to give,” she answered and, when you obviously didn’t catch her meaning, she continued. “Billy is a very rich man and he’s going to live forever. A lot of people find both of those prospects very attractive.”

“They want him to...” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, a lump stuck in your throat at the thought. Karen nodded. “And you’ve done this before? Gone for coffee with... someone like me?”

“Not quite like this, but I did spend time with some of them.”

“What do you mean not quite like this?” 

She paused half way through lifting her cup to her lips and, for a second you could have sworn she winced. Still, she took a drink and didn’t try to answer until her mug was back on the table again.

“His rules weren’t always so strict.” Her head shook. “Look, it’s not my place to tell you any of this. Billy has his reasons for why things are the way they are; it’s to protect you as much as it’s to protect him.”

You opened your mouth to ask more questions but no words came out. Ultimately, it didn’t matter how or why the rules had changed because you’d agreed to them. You’d agreed to the job and you needed the money, so the last thing you wanted to do was get Karen in trouble and maybe jeopardise future outings like this.

“Thank you,” you told her, then quickly clarified; “for telling me.”

Karen smiled, considering her words for a moment. “Billy is a friend, but trust me when I tell you that if I didn’t believe what he was doing was necessary, I would have told him so.”

“It’s okay,” you conceded quietly, shrugging, “I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to do this.”

You turned your attention to your food, cautiously picking up your panini, trying not to burn yourself on the molten cheese that was leaking out the side as you took a bite. It was heavenly; toasted just the right amount, the cheese was sharp, and the tuna -

You dropped the panini back to your plate, horrified with yourself.

No. No-no-no. How could you have been so stupid? You felt your chest tighten a fraction, your stomach tying itself in knots. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Karen asked, obviously concerned.

“Tuna,” you stated, your voice breaking. “I’m not supposed to eat tuna. It’s on the list. He’s going to -”

“Whoa-whoa, back up. What list?”

“The list of things I’m not supposed to eat,” you tried to explain, unable to conceal the panic from your voice. 

This wasn’t you - you didn’t break rules, you always tried to stay in line - and, now, you’d messed up. All you could think was that you were going to lose the job, that Billy would kick you out and you’d have no choice but to go home. You were going to end up back where you started all because of a stupid toasted sandwich.

“Hey-hey, calm down, it’s okay,” Karen tried to settle you.

“You don’t understand I can’t lose this job.”

“You won’t,” she reached across the table, taking your hand in hers, “if Billy finds out, we’ll tell him it was my fault, okay?”

“But -”

“No, buts. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise.”

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain the panic that was clawing beneath your ribs. You’d been raised to be good, to be decent, to follow the rules and not cause problems. You’d been raised to fear consequences and, even though you were far from home, that mindset was difficult to escape.

“Here,” she offered, sliding her plate towards you, “we can swap, I got ham and cheese. You only had one bite, Billy will never know.”

It was like she understood, like she could tell just by looking at you how desperately you needed to keep the job - not just because of the money on offer but because you had nothing and nowhere else to go without it. 

Taking the offered plate, you ate slowly, quietly. From time to time, you’d catch her looking at you, concern on her face. Conversation that followed was stilted and awkward as you picked apart your muffin until it was gone. And, once your mug was empty, the outing was over.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay longer,” she apologised as you started back towards the penthouse. “I’ll make more time next week; we can spend a whole afternoon doing whatever you want. We’ll make it a regular thing, every Thursday.”

Agreeing, you thanked her as she rode the elevator back up to the penthouse with you, making sure you were okay before leaving you with the promise of seeing you again next week.

It was strange to know that you were completely alone in the penthouse for another day but, after the incident with the panini, you were very deliberate when it came to the rules. You sat on the sofa until just before 9pm, watching the cloudy sky slowly darken and give way to night before returning to your rooms, even though no one would have known if you’d stayed in the penthouse longer.

That night you laid in bed thinking about Billy - or, rather, you thought about what it was going to be like to see him again after what had happened. Was he as embarrassed by it all as you were? Did Billy Russo even get embarrassed? Maybe it would be better for the both of you if you just pretended that it never happened.

Friday passed in a blur. Every time you heard a noise in the penthouse, you would creep to the door to your quarters and press your ear against it, trying to hear if he was back. Of course, some part of you understood how ridiculous you were being; Billy was so light on his feet that you’d never be able to hear him. But, still, time and time again you found yourself pressed against the door.

After drawing blood, you moved across the penthouse as quietly as you could, looking for signs that he was home and finding none. Once you reached the kitchen and placed the blood in the fridge, you allowed yourself a sigh of relief before turning and -

There he was.

Standing between you and your rooms, a look on his face that you couldn’t decipher.

For a second your lips parted, wanting to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come. Your cheeks started to warm and the silence dragged on for at least ten seconds. Billy looked uncertain, so uncomfortable in your presence. His normally calm and collected demeanour was gone, replaced with a look that made you feel unsettled, guilty even. More than that, you couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked - you hadn’t even realised that vampires could look tired before now.

“You decided to stay,” part-statement, part-question. All you could do was nod, letting your feet carry you a couple of steps closer to him. “I’m glad. I didn’t think you would.”

“I want to stay,” you offered quietly, breathing slowly, trying to keep your heart from racing.

“I’m sorry for the other night. I never wanted you to see me like that,” he said, standing a little taller and seeming to regain some of his usual composure. “It won’t happen again. I never wanted to make you feel unsafe here.”

“You didn’t,” your voice still small as you struggled to find a way to describe any of the things you were feeling right now. “You told me to stay away and I didn’t listen, and I didn’t ask you to stop when I should have. But I just...” you trailed off, not sure how to say the next part.

“What?” He prompted softly, his attention entirely fixed on you.

“I need to make it clear; just because you’re paying me, it doesn’t mean you’re entitled to -”

“I would never think that I’m entitled to fuck you just because I’m paying you,” he interrupted, just as offended by the notion as you were. “Anything that happens here only happens with your consent.”

Did that mean it could happen again if you wanted it to? You didn’t dare voice the question, instead you just nodded.

His gaze dropped awkwardly and yours followed it, noticing something tightly gripped in his hands. A stuffed toy. Before you could ask, Billy had cleared the distance between you, holding out the toy to you. After a moment of confused hesitation, you took it, frowning first at the toy then him.

“When you said you were lonely, you mentioned a dog and I -” he let out an uncomfortable huff of laughter, “- well, obviously I can’t let you have a real dog here but I thought - I hoped - maybe this would help.”

Your gaze dropped to the stuffed toy in your hand, shaped like a beagle with floppy ears and a little pink tongue lolling out of its mouth. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had bought you such a thoughtful gift and that sad thought caused your heart to give an uncomfortable squeeze. When you looked back to Billy, you started to realise that there was far more to the man than you’d originally believed.

“I didn’t know what kind of dog you had, so I just...” he continued, trailing off when he saw your smile.

“Thank you. It’s perfect.” 

It was Billy’s turn to simply nod, seeming just as lost for words as you were for a few seconds before deciding to let you go about your evening. “Anyway, I won’t keep you.”

The conversation was over giving you the perfect opportunity to walk away and recover from whatever this had been, only -

“I broke one of the rules,” you blurted out without thinking, not wanting to carry the weight of it after Billy’s gesture.

A flicker of discomfort crossed his face but was quickly reined in. “Which one?” 

“I ate tuna in a panini when I went out with Karen,” you stated, sounding so ashamed anyone would have thought you were confessing to murder. “It was just one bite. I forgot tuna was on the list. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again, Mr Russo. I promise.”

You didn’t expect the laugh that followed, or the way the tension seemed to leave his body. His hand found your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.”

“But the list -”

“Tuna is on the list because I don’t like it. If I’d been here and had your blood, it would have been unpleasant for me, but I wasn’t here so I’m willing to forgive it.”

(Well, that explained why certain foods were on the list. They were things he didn’t like - did that mean he could tell what you’d been eating from your blood?)

“I spent twenty dollars,” you admitted a moment later, like you were confessing all of your sins to him. (Or maybe you just wanted to keep the conversation going a little while longer, keep his hand on you a little longer.)

His hand moved to your neck, his cold touch on your skin causing your heart to beat a little faster. And you knew he could tell, you knew he could hear the effect he was having on you. 

“You spent eighteen dollars fifty-five,” he told you, amused by whatever this was. “I don’t think you’re going to bankrupt me.” When his little joke didn’t manage to draw a smile from you, Billy sighed. “I’m the one that should be sorry. I haven’t really explained things to you, I guess because I didn’t think you’d even make it past the second week.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m asking a lot of you. Maybe too much,” he told you as his thumb began to softly brush against your jaw. “The truth is, I need things to be like this. I need to have control. I need to stay in control because when I don’t...”

He didn’t have to say it, you could fill in the blanks. The other night was what happened when Billy lost control, it was what happened when the monster overwhelmed the man.

“But,” he continued, “I know it’s not easy to be the person who’s being controlled. I know you don’t really want this.”

“No, I -” the words started to slip out before you could stop them. Billy looked at you expectantly, silently demanding you finish the thought. Your cheeks felt like they were burning, but he was giving you honesty and you needed to do the same in return. “I’m used to rules. I like knowing what’s expected of me. It doesn’t make things easier for me, but I like knowing where I stand. So, I guess I don’t mind following your rules.”

It was clear he had questions but clearer still that he didn’t want to ask them. You were grateful for that.

“You always have a choice here, little hummingbird, even if I sometimes make it seem like you don’t,” he told you, leaving his hand to linger on your neck a moment more before it dropped to his side. Somehow, you felt colder for the loss of his icy touch. He was quiet a moment before; “do you like Thai food?”

You nodded despite the very sudden change in conversation. “I love it.”

“I’ve got nothing planned this weekend, perhaps we could spend some time getting to know each other a little better? Maybe that would make things a little easier,” he offered, a small smile on his lips. “We could order from a great Thai place I know and I could try to answer some of your questions about things.”

Your fingers tightened on the stuffed toy as you smiled. Finally, you felt like you were getting somewhere, like this could become something bearable, something good.

“I’d like that,” you answered.

“Okay then, tomorrow evening at sunset,” he nodded and looked ready to leave.

Nodding in return, you finally stated to move back towards your rooms. Your hand was on the handle when he spoke again.

“Why did you help me?” You could tell from his tone that he didn’t want to ask the question, but the curiosity had gotten the better of him. “You didn’t have to help, you could’ve stayed in your rooms. Instead you put yourself in danger to help me. Why?”

You turned back, despite not knowing how to answer him. And, for a few seconds you found yourself looking at him. There was something there, something about his expression, something that made you wonder if anyone else had ever helped him before. It seemed like such an alien concept to him that anyone might go out of their way to do anything for him.

“You looked like you were in pain,” you shrugged, “and, even though I haven’t always felt completely comfortable here, I think you’ve always tried to be kind... in your own way. So, I couldn’t just stand by when I thought there was a chance I could help you.”

Billy swallowed, like he was trying to rid himself of a lump in his throat. Then he nodded, clearly lost for words. That look you’d noticed only seconds before seemed to intensify and Billy didn’t seem to know what to do with it.

“Thank you,” he finally managed, before giving you one last look and turning away. 

For a second you allowed yourself to watch him as he made his way towards the kitchen but you knew you couldn’t linger, not when the pounding of your heart gave you away. Slipping through the door, you quickly shut it behind you, pressing your back against it for a moment. Looking down, you realised that you had the stuffed dog clutched to your chest. It was silly, such a ridiculous gift, but the fact that he’d listened to you, the fact that he’d thought about what you’d told him, it meant so much.

End Note : Billy was having a Mr Darcy (Matthew Macfadyen version) moment when he handed over the stuffed toy. Place your bets on what she’s going to to call it. I know this one was slow and a little cutesy but I wanted to build some more tension before things start to ramp up next chapter.

As always thank you so much for reading! And thank you so much to all my new followers (I did not expect 200+ followers when I started posting on tumblr). I hope you all have awesome weekends!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (Note: Tumblr is currently being stupid and only letting me tag five people at a time, so I'll be tagging people in the comments. Sorry if you get tagged twice!!)

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad @vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17 @sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim @countryday @weepingwitchofthewest

[gingerale13]

I churned this out so fast excuse the quality.. anyways there's a cheesy ass note to my mutuals + followers under the cut bc I love you guys 🧡🧡

This year kinda whizzed by for me! A lot happened in my personal life that I don't want to share online, but throughout all of the highs and lows I was always able to come back to this wonderful fandom. It's been a huge comfort seeing other people theorize and discuss my favorite characters!

I've meet a lot of awesome people through Tumblr & Ao3, cosplaying, and various TF2 groups. As of writing this post I've got a solid 260 followers, which is an insane number to me when this blog simply started as a place to organize my creative works 😭

All of the little tags and comments on my stuff have seriously kept my life whimsical (for lack of a better term) and I would like to shout-out some notable people and works that kept me going through 2024!

First up, and probably the biggest one, is the lovely @aussie-bookworm and their fic, Going Through The Motions. These updates seriously made my day, and I couldn't have been happier you accepted my offer to proofread. It's been super fun discussing the differences between our countries, yapping about the Mercs, and different AUs. I hope to read many more of your works in 2025 B)

Next, another fanfic author, is AhChunta! If you like slow burns, mystery, and Speeding Bullet, I would really recommend Stolen Pieces. It's a super cool crime boss AU that I've been enjoying this year. Plus it deserves more attention!

Another awesome artist is @800db-cloud, who is honestly CARRYING the Freak Fortress fandom. I love how silly your depictions of those freaks are 🧡 and also YOUR ARTSTYLE IS SO COOL AND SATISFYING TO LOOK AT ARGHHH.. You're just super awesome 👍 also shout-out to @riskreward1, my chillest mutual. I think your Getting Milk comic series is hilarious and amazing, but seeing all of those other fandoms you draw is like a gateway drug to me because it's drawn in your KICKASS artstyle‼️plus you like The Mountain Goats and that's based

@thechocolatearmor!! The other Medic Cosplayer I met at my first con!! My friends still mention the in-character convo we had, you were hilarious and I'm so glad I got your Tumblr because I love reading all of your takes on reblogs. I hope I see you again so we can be insane together again 🔥

also @mikimel, I admire how silly you are 😭 I still have that little doodle you drew at the con, and I wish your Tomodochi Miis well <3 AND THE SOLLY FIGURE. He's beautiful. Your fashion sense is fire, and I hope to see more of your cosplay projects! :0 (specifically Soldier Miku. If that's still a thing hehe)

@ivvyzzspark you. You know what you did.

Another HUGE thanks to my very very patient proofreader @emiette for helping me make Crates readable! Em dashes are my new favorite form of punctuation.

And lastly I would like to thank @mvabank because you were the one who made me start rotting over TF2 in the first place 🫶 Magmas were always so fun with you and the image of your little sona with the big ass eyes is forever seared into my brain <3

Maybe it's because 2025 is divisible by 5, but I have a feeling this year is going to be a good one. Stay safe out there, people! Cheers 🥂

[sen-ya]

Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

[janesbeloved]

☆ FINDING FRANKIE AU INFOPOST ☆

(incredible logo I made /silly)

—

Hiya everyone!!! Thank you soso much for the love and support regarding this AU!!! Due to so many people being curious about it and wanting to do little fan OC's for it, I'll explain it properly!!

This AU is worked on by me and @perish-lolz , thus characters belong either to me, them or us both! We both write the story and characters and do art together ^_^

—

THE PLOT: Franklin JR "Boss" Rabbit and his older brother Frankie Rabbit first made a cereal company. To advertise said cereal, they eventually created a fun TV show for little children (mostly age group of 5-10) called "Frankie's Toonville Adventures", which had it's main character cast: Frankie the magician rabbit (played by... Frankie), Henry Hotline (...played by himself..) and Deputy Duck (played by Debbie Duck)! The show had multiple seasons, it's episodes consisting of important life lessons and other things for tiny kids to learn!

At the height of the shows success, Boss opened up an activity park called "Frankie's Parkour Palace" with parkour, trampoline and waterpark fun stuff, said park becoming incredibly popular!

Eventually as the show ended and it's popularity faded, Frankie's Parkour Palace was expanded, with more entertainment areas added so there's a ton of things to do for literally all ages!

☆☆☆

Toonville Adventures: The Aftermath, takes place after this. The stars of the old show try to navigate themselves through life, finding new careers for themselves. While everyone else finds their new slot in the expanded activity center, Frankie isn't happy. Sure he's the image of the company, his name and face plastered everywhere, but he's not ready to give up his stardom. This AU mostly focuses on the struggles people in the showbiz face, how cruel the environment can be, how easily people will backstab eachother if it's to benefit themselves.. all desperate to secure their own survival no matter what it takes. Families get torn apart, bonds get broken... a lot of stuff happens! It's just the grim reality of it all.

—

If you wish to make OC's for this AU, you're very welcome to do so!! Just tag me or send a pic to me in DM's as I really wanna see them!<3 These fan OC's mostly function as background characters, as me and my friend have the main storyline and characters pretty much set up ^_^

The OC's can be park workers (besides from the known areas in the park, theres also a little shopping area, a movie theatre, a bar for adults, a small indoor amusement park section, a lazer gun area, rock climbing and just so much more!), or workers of the film studio thats attached to the park. While the show itself is no longer running, they do other stuff there such as commercials, Henry has a lot of his career still as an actor, as well as a talkshow host ^_^

-

MAIN CHARACTERS & SOME RELATIONSHIP INFO:

(all my art ofc ^_^)

—

I'll write individual character infos when I can, but I have posted stuff of this AU to its tags!! You can look through em! Thank you again for the love and support this AU means so much to me <33 ;;___;;;

[perotovar]

my favorite things i've made 2024

tagged by @jolapeno @almostfoxglove @morallyinept @schnarfer @iamasaddie

@kedsandtubesocks @chronically-ghosted @moonlitbirdie and @arcanefox207 ♥

alright, y'all, i can't believe this year is ending soon 🥹 as we all know, this year has had a lot of ups and downs, but i can't help but feel like pedro did when he got his sag award, y'know??

i'm so grateful for all of you, and i can't wait to see what the new year brings. new p boys, new premieres/press tours?? sounds like heaven to me ♥

now, i've been tagged to toot my own horn a little bit and i guess i can, fine :P i don't normally like to, but i've been tagged by some wonderful, lovely friends to do so

below, will be both fics and gifs i've made this year that i'm pretty proud of!

before anything, i just wanna say, i'm super fucking proud of my Offering of Frith writing challenge. y'all did such an amazing job on every single one of the fics. i worked super hard on that and it was SO fun. i'd love to do another challenge in 2025, so i may do some brainstorming ✏️👀

fics:

bloody kisses -> alright, i'm gonna be real with y'all. this is my favorite thing i've ever written. okay, maybe not ever, but it's definitely tied with itbotn. i really love how quickly and easily this universe came together for me, and the little cult following that it has makes me so happy. they've almost got a little life of their own. i really, really wanna get back to them. i've got an idea that i'd love to get down, and now that a lot of the pressures of school are a little lessened, i might make it happen soon!

into the beat of the night ch 7 - "in my side" -> this chapter didn't get as much attention as the rest of the series, and that's okay, but i'm still proud of it for stepping out of my comfort zone. it was an area i was afraid would be a little taboo (since it covers deadnaming, misgendering, and past abusive relationships) so it's a little more serious than the series tends to be. i like what it means for river and frankie's relationship and it cements how they feel about each other, y'know?

into the beat of the night ch 8 - "deeper and deeper" -> and now for something completely different lol i like this chapter because it could've only happened after the experience with river's ex. they're completely comfortable with each other now and this was the last of frankie's walls coming down. i love them ♥

gifs:

the pedro pascal fandom moodboard that i made for the friendship exchange cat and han hosted ♥ i love how that turned out because it's the exact experience i have in this fandom lol

gideon @sp00kymulderr 's birthday present ♥ i adore our little disaster bi raccoon man and i love making these silly sets like this. i also love gideon so i'm glad they were the recipient for this!

silly pedro during the gladiator 2 press ♥ again, i love making these goofier sets. they're super fun to make and the end result is always really rewarding. and maybe i just like making myself laugh LMAO

i love you guys and i hope the new year treats you all well ♥

np tags: @for-a-longlongtime @schnarfer @iero @userparamore @djo

@miwtual @tomshiddles @gasolinerainbowpuddles @mrsmando @ghostofaboy

@missredherring @cavillscurls @beardedjoel @beefrobeefcal @quinnnfabrgay

@hellishjoel @max--phillips @oonajaeadira @wethairjoel @pedgito and literally anyone that wants to/sees this! i'm sorry if you already have done this or i missed you, it wasn't on purpose 🥲

[goddessofroyalty]

So this was based on a silly joke I have in my head about hormonal birth control not working for omega!Sanji for (spoilers) reasons and him and Zoro then ending up with 3 kids on the pirate journey because they keep breaking condoms.

Anyway this is just them finally making it back to the Baratie and having to face up to Zeff about it (from Zeff’s POV)

Pairing: Zoro/Sanji

Tags: omegaverse, mpreg

---------

Zeff will admit he is slightly surprised at the swell in Sanji’s stomach when he showed up again as part of what seems to be the new Pirate King and crew’s Victory Tour.

It’s not that Eggplant had given him no indication of it – he had been getting more and more jittery every damn time he’d gotten in touch as the Strawhats made their various stops before reaching the Baratie. Saying how some things had happened during his travels and that he’d needed to talk to Zeff about them in person. But Zeff had assumed it was to do with his damnable family. Not that his woman-obsessed omega son had gone and got himself knocked up. By an alpha, going by the new layer of scent clinging on top of the one he remembers to be Sanji’s.

And, because wonder’s don’t fucking cease, they’ve only just gotten through their tearful hug when a little green-haired girl comes running over. Clinging to Eggplants leg and staring up at Zeff with curious, familiar, blue eyes.

“I thought you were staying on the ship Princess?” Eggplant says, brushing a hand through her hair. And Zeff is equally sure that actually Sanji told her to stay on the ship as he is that his boy was as much a pushover to his daughter as he had been any woman who had stepped foot into the Baratie before he left.

“You know she wasn’t gonna’ as soon as she found out this was your old home.” And there was the newly minted World’s Greatest Swordsman and apparently sire to Zeff’s grandkids walking in like it had been his home as well and not the place he had gotten nearly cut in half by the former owner of the title.

And, fucks sake, there was another little one resting on his hips as he does it with that same matching green hair.

“I do remember teaching you about the importance of making them wrap it,” Zeff grumbles, because going by the age of the older one the two it hadn’t been all that long after Sanji left that he had gotten himself knocked up. “I know you said you weren’t planning on getting with any alphas but I know you were still listening.”

Eggplant goes red at it before glaring at Roronoa who gives a grin back that is entirely too filthy and leaves Zeff sure that he doesn’t actually want to know.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Zeff asks more to move the topic away from his kid’s sex life before he finds out more about it than he wants to.

They had been exchanging letters and calls on and off the whole time and never once had Eggplant mentioned that he was going to be or had become a granddad in any of them.

“I did try to but I couldn’t say anything too direct in case it got intercepted,” Sanji explains, resting a protective hand over his middle while the other curls around the girl at his side.

It makes some degree of sense. Best way to keep the two, soon to be three, pups from being a target is to have nobody know they exist in the first place.

Maybe Zeff should have guessed something like this was up when Sanji had asked him how he had dealt with the stress of raising a kid in the dangerous world they lived in. But he had just assumed his boy had finally matured enough to realize how much of an antagonistic dumbass he had been at times.

“I did want to tell you though,” Sanji continues, his voice guilty.  

Roronoa has moved close to his mate’s side, not touching though. Which is probably what Sanji actually wants – always had been a bit funny about any too direct an offer of comfort. Something Zeff’s probably as much to blame for as anything else in his life.

“You have no idea how many times I nearly did.”

“Probably for the best you didn’t,” Zeff says because he can’t have his kid feeling guilty for doing the smart thing. “I don’t know if I’d have been able to keep away if you did.”

Neither he nor his ship these days are made for the journey to the Grand Line. And it wouldn’t have been good for Sanji or the rest of the crew of his to have an old pirate getting underfoot while they were making names for themselves on history’s pages.

“Hell, I’m gonna’ struggle letting you sail off with my grandkids with you now. You better come visit more than you have been!” He doesn’t actually hold it against them and damn well know the reason why this is the first time he’s seen them since Sanji left to join a pirate crew. But he still missed years of his grandkids lives as a result and they had better make up for it.