#CONFRONTATIONAL - UNDER THE KILLING SUN

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A fight about a rumor, a confrontation, an admission, and suddenly your in the back of your car with no pants on.

Word Count: 4.7 k

Warnings:

“Get back ‘ere,” Lt. Simon Riley’s deep voice bellows angrily at the back of your quickly fleeing head as you storm clench fisted out of his private quarters before it disappears from his sight for a moment as you slam his door behind you so hard that it bounces off the frame and swings back open. He has no clue where you��re off to, but by the direction you’re headed, it looks like you’re going straight towards the parking lot. 

God dammit, this isn’t how this is supposed to go. He curses himself for the way his emotions get the best of him sometimes and especially right now.

A mess of heavy breaths and barred teeth, you try to ignore the boot steps barreling towards you from behind. Nothing and no one is going to stop you from getting out of here and away from him, so you keep your face down, eyes staring at the long shadow of your body splaying out in front of you as the sun slips down further to the horizon. When you do finally look up your car is close and getting closer; good. You need to get off this fucking base to calm down before you explode in rage and do something stupid…like put your fist through a wall.

Again the lieutenant calls out your name to your fading figure with no luck and watches as you reach your vehicle without even acknowledging him anymore. It’s no use, you’re gonna take off no matter what he does, so finally he gives up with a loudly growled “fuckin’ hell” in agitation just as you reach out for the handle, storming back into the room with another loud bang as the door shuts and stays closed this time. 

The noise makes the tension in your chest ease as you get in the driver’s seat and buckle up; at least he’s decided to actually leave you alone for now. Risking a quick glance back at the bare front of his closed door one more time you harshly turn the key in the ignition and peel out of the parking lot, screeching wheels and a flurry of gravel the only sign of your exit. 

“God dammit,” you mutter to yourself under your breath, your knuckles gripping into the steering wheel until they are white as you make your way up to the security booth to get cleared to leave. “What the fuck was that? Christ, he was angry. Has he lost his goddamn mind? Why does he think I have to put up with his shit?”

The guards at the stand can see the fury in your eyes as you roll up to the gate and they are quick to guide you through, not wanting to be on the receiving end of whatever has got you in a mood. They share a look between them after you drive off as somehow it feels like they’ve dodged a bullet, but that relief is short lived as not even ten minutes later the next person to come up to their gate has the same sour expression, except this one is partially shielded inside a jet black motorcycle helmet and black balaclava. 

Those eyes though…if looks could kill, the guards know they would have already dropped dead.

“Lieutenant,” one of them nods briskly as the motorcycle comes to a stop and the visor on the helmet is aggressively opened to reveal its occupant, “y-your good to go.”

Simon flips the visor back down with a single flick from his hand and revs the engine on his bike to peel away from the booth like a rocket towards the setting sun, headed in the same direction you had just gone minutes before. Faster and faster he pushes the engine; thank fuck there’s only one way you can go and if he makes sure to speed, he’s confident that he’ll catch up to you quick enough.

And then what? Simon’s anger is still blinding and he hasn’t thought that far ahead. All he knows is that he can’t just leave it like this and until you listen, he isn’t going to give up.

Your eyes are locked on the road, but it feels like you’re driving more by instinct rather than by sight as the only thing you can see right now is red. Simon’s harsh accusations swirl about in your head on repeat; not a good soundtrack to quiet your anger. This is not how you thought this day was going to end.

He had caught you headed back to your barracks and asked to speak. If you knew it was going to be an ambush for him to unload on you about something that was none of his business, you would have done everything to get out of letting him lead you inside his room. He didn’t even give you the chance to get a word in, to defend yourself, just kept spewing his heated thoughts about what he believed you were doing until finally you were able to get out.

If only he knew the truth… whatever, it didn’t matter now. You wouldn’t be kept on a short leash by someone who didn’t care.

You aren’t sure how many miles you’ve gone before you notice a motorcycle driving right behind you. They seem to be glued onto your bumper, keeping pace with you as you switch lanes, and when you make a sudden right and another directly after, they are still behind you and now you’re sure; you know that bike and its rider. 

How the fuck did he get behind you so fast? 

Simon flashes his lights at you before throwing on his blinker to indicate that he wants you to pull over, but you aren’t on base and don’t feel like following his orders right now. Let him chase after you for a little while more, that’s what he deserves. Who knows, maybe he’ll realize that this is a fucking stupid idea and he should really head back. Wishful thinking; you know him too well to even pretend that he’ll give up when he has his mind set on something. 

A few more miles and again he hits his lights; he’s not going to stop following you until you give him what he wants. He knows he came at you too strong before, but he isn’t done with the conversation. He is compelled to put a stop to this before it gets any more out of hand, he has to. One more time, he flashes his lights.

“Really, Simon? I don’t want to fucking do this,” you curse him in a mumble with a scoff. Looking into your rearview mirror, you throw up your hands in defeat to silently indicate you’re ready to get this over with, wherever he decides to take this. It’s almost dark now anyway; you can get this done and then immediately head down to the bar to grab a much needed drink.

Up ahead is the abandoned parking lot of an old grocery store that looks like it has been closed for some time. Simon speeds up to get ahead of you to act as a guide and you throw your blinker on and turn in. He leads you towards the back of the store and away from the street and the traffic; more privacy for you to ‘talk’. 

Great, more yelling, you think as you put the car in park before coming to a full stop. You scramble out in a huff and slam the door shut so hard that the windows vibrate.

“What?” you say between gritted teeth, leaning up against your car as you wait for him to get off his bike; you’re gonna make him come to you. 

He removes his helmet, setting it carefully on the handlebars before stalking over to where you stand. “I said I wasn’t going to talk about this anymore,” you continue on in the same heated tone, “so why are you following me? What the fuck do you want now?”

“That’s really how you’re gonna talk ta me?” he questions, matching your energy. “I’m still your fuckin’ lieutenant.” 

“That’s how I talk to assholes so stick their fucking noses where they don’t belong and then get mad when they don’t like what they find,” you return, crossing your arms across your chest to hide how labored your breathing is from your anger. You don’t want him to know just how much he’s gotten under your skin, even though you know your face is probably giving it all away anyway. 

He told himself to stay calm, but there is no helping the emotional reaction he has that causes him to immediately match your energy and the fight picks right back up as if it never stopped. “Oh, is that right?” he growls. “I’m tha asshole? And what the fuck does that make ya, princess?”

“Don’t turn this back on me,” you press the matter. “I didn’t do anything; you’re the one that has the problem. I just don’t understand why you can’t let it go. Do you not have anything better to do than get in my personal life?” 

Simon licks his lips behind his mask to keep him from losing the shred of composure he has left. “Better watch it, luv.”

You’re done with him, his attitude, and this conversation. “I will say it again, so maybe you’ll finally get it through your thick skull. What I do in my free time is my business. You have no right to confront me about anything.”

“I think I do,” he returns.

“Why? Because we hooked up a couple of times? That doesn’t give you the right to act like we’re a couple,” you say heatedly. “We agreed that it was we needed at the time to let off some steam, that the couple times it happened meant nothing. Now you’re acting like a fucking child just because I enjoy having company?”

Your blood is boiling now because he’s doing all this without having the facts. This supposed company you are entertaining isn’t even real, it is all a rumor started by a rejected private with nothing better to do, but you aren’t about to tell him that. He doesn’t need to know because it shouldn’t matter; you’re not together, never were, and he has no right to any knowledge about what you do behind closed doors. 

This is the type of arrangement he wanted after all, no strings attached. His idea, not yours, so why the possessiveness all of a sudden? After all you had done to make sure your feelings on the matter never got out it only makes you more irate to feel like a caged animal; damned if you do, damned if you don’t. 

Because what you really want is standing right in front of you and you can’t have it.

“Ya couldn’t even tell me ya were screwin’ around?” he says, stepping up in intimidation. “Ya don’t think that makes it sound like ya knew it was a problem?”

His entitlement feels like an attack and you won’t stand for it. “You can’t keep me on a leash like this when you don’t even have a claim,” you bark, getting in his face. “You might be my lieutenant, but what I’m doing or not doing outside of military business isn’t for you to worry about. And once again, we aren’t together. Stop acting jealous.”

He stares you down, menacing glare locked to your eyes as his chest heaves up and down exasperatedly. “Neva said I was fuckin’ jealous,” he starts, but you promptly cut him off.

“Yeah, right,” the accusation spills out like acid, finger poking into the middle of his chest. “And the fact you can’t fucking drop it is because you’re concerned, right? Bullshit. But you know what? I don’t care. I promise you, this is the last we will ever speak about it. You hear me? Just leave me the fuck alone.”

You shove past Simon as he stands there silently fuming to walk off somewhere along the building, clearly hoping that he will turn back for the base. His heart is beating out of his chest as he stares daggers into the back of your head…because you actually guessed right. He is jealous and it is eating away at him. 

Blinded by his overwhelming emotions, he moves without thinking about the repercussions of his actions. Taking fast steps, he catches up to you as you walk along by the brick wall of the store and takes you by surprise. He reaches out with his large, strong hand and wraps tightly around the back of your neck to pull you backward to him, turn you around, and pin you against the brick by your throat.

Simon blocks your body with the bulk of his, trapping you so you can’t get away again. His grip is firm, but not painful and you look up into his masked face as if trying to read his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, the residual anger pumping through your veins so it’s still in your voice.

There is a pause, more silence, before he speaks. “Handlin’ something,” he says with a growl.

“You clearly can’t handle anything, Simon,” you comment with an agitated chuckle. 

“Shut it,” he demands in a harsh bark. “Ya think ya know every fuckin’ thing, don’t ya?” He shakes his head, jaw visibly clenching even behind the mask. “Ya can’t even see what’s right in front ‘a your face.”

Your brow furrows; what the hell is he talking about? His remark catches you off-guard and you stand silently in confusion as you contemplate what the hell he’s trying to say, but he’s gone completely silent, just breathing heavy breaths into your face. Enough, he needs to just spit out so this can end. 

“Since I’m so fucking stupid, why don’t you spell it out for me. Stop playing these fucking games with me, Simon.”

Fine, no more games. His skin tingles with the heat from the adrenaline flooding his limbs and all at once everything happens in a flash. Only inches remain between you and in that moment they suddenly feel as wide as the ocean; it makes him ache and the urge to close the distance overwhelms every sense. Reaching towards his face with his free hand his mask is wrenched above his lips before he pulls your head forward by your throat and leans in to catch your mouth with his. The kiss is so full of aggression that it knocks the air out of your lungs. 

There is nowhere for you to go, nothing you can do, but hold on as he takes what he wants from your mouth. He steals kiss after frantic kiss as if he has been starved for them, not evening pausing to give you a second to come up for breath.  

All that anger that had just been bubbling inside you is redirected and suddenly instead of wanting to push him away you want him as close as possible. Your fingers claw into his shoulders through his leather riding jacket as you try to pull him into you, but they are immediately ripped off as he grabs them and pins the wrists to the wall above your head. Between the breaks in your mouth’s connection, he gasps out the words he should have said back in his room. 

“Ya need ta understand. Can’t just have ya a few fuckin’ times and tha’s it. Can’t get enough a ya. Was a goddamn fool not ta speak up sooner. Want ya for myself an’ I don’t share what’s mine. An’ you’re mine, luv,” he gasps into your parted lips, giving your neck a squeeze for emphasis. “Ya hear that? Mine.”

He nips at your bottom lip, sharp teeth cutting into the plump flesh to make you moan at the delicious harshness. God, your desperate sounds are like a drug; he can’t get enough and the more needy you become, the better they get. Pulling back just as you try to go in for more, he stares into your eyes, his gaze darkening within the confines of his mask still clinging to the top half of his face. “Can’t ‘ave anyone else tryin’ to get at what’s mine. Any prick that tries ta take ya away from me, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘im.”

Admission finished Simon’s eyes flutter closed as he dives right back into your lips, this time shoving his tongue into your mouth, parting through your lips as he forces his way in until the muscle has filled you full. It plays against the roof of your mouth and over your tongue, tasting you, devouring all he can like a beast ravenous to take all that it can get. 

All that pent up desire being released onto you.

His bulky muscles against your chest crush your body into the wall and you can barely breathe, but you would gladly suffocate if it meant your curves could stay molded into each other like this for longer. Then you feel it, that bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans, and the walls of your pussy involuntarily clench. Suddenly you need it inside you. 

As if he has read your mind, Simon wrenches himself from your lips. “Unless ya want me ta fuck ya on the side ‘a this buildin’, get to tha car,” he growls, his voice husky. “Now.”

It only takes  a few seconds before you’re both jostling into the back of your car and slamming the doors shut, Simon’s jacket discarded on the ground right outside the door. His massive size takes up most of the cramped interior of the vehicle, but still he manages to maneuver onto his knees over top of you as he lays your back down against the seat. With one hand he undoes your pants, clasp first and then zipper, and pulls them down just under the curve of your ass and forcefully rips them off your legs as he rips his shirt off over his head with the other. The mask is taken with it and all the clothes get tossed somewhere into the floor of the car as he hikes one of your legs up to rest on his broad shoulder.

“Need it,” he says, feverishly kissing down the length to your thigh. “Need ta be inside ya right this second.”

“Yes, Simon,” you whimper as he undoes his jeans and pulls out his cock. It bobs up and down with the beats of his heart and he moans at the sensitivity as he takes it into his hand.

“Ya said I didn’t ‘ave a claim, well I’m ‘ere to claim ya now. But I need ta say it, sweetheart,” he returns as his fingertips hook into the crotch of your panties to pull them to the side before he angles himself against your pussy and starts slipping himself through your petals with agonizingly slow thrusts of his hips. “Say you’re mine.”

You swallow to coat the dryness in your throat. “I’m yours Simon,” you say, but the measured nature of his strokes don’t stop.

“Again.”

The tip of his cock prods against your clit and you whimper at how swollen it is and how much you need something to take the edge off. “I’m all yours Simon!” you whimper so pathetically as the throbbing intensifies the more he repeats the same. 

His hand digs harder into your hip as he leans in closer to your face. “I. Said. Again.” 

You close your eyes tight, clenching as you pant and gather the strength to reply with everything you have. “Simon, baby, please. I fucking need you so bad. I can’t fucking take it. I swear that I am only yours; there won’t ever be anyone else.”

The heat of his lips near yours makes you shiver. “Look who can’t handle things now,” he says with a smugness that makes goosebumps raise over your skin. “ Now, arch ya back a little more for me.” His command is direct and you follow without hesitation, presenting yourself to him like you are in heat, begging to be filled.  

“Fuck sweetheart, jus’ tha thought of ya with anyone else gets me so god damned riled up,” he says with a grunt as he positions himself at your entrance, your panties nearly ripping still laced in his fingers. “No one can ‘ave ya like this ‘cept me. Understand?”

You give him a vigorous nod, praying that soon the agony will end. “No one.” Your repeated words are a plea.

Simon’s heart races at how you say it. “You’re neva’ gonna stray, are ya?”

“No,” you whine.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” 

With that he shoves in just the tip through the threshold, instantly feeling the stretch of your core by the girth of it, groaning through a chuckle as you mewl taking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust and snaps his hips to thrust all the way down to the base of his shaft. The wind gets knocked out of you, but again he doesn’t pause and the axle of the car creaks as his desperate strokes overwhelm everything from you to the vehicle with the force.

“Ya think anyone else can make ya feel like this?” he asks through gritted teeth as he pounds into you hard and rough over and over again in rhythm. “Some manky bastard gonna make ya moan like this?”

There’s no way you can answer him with how full your mouth is with moans, how numb your mind is as everything in you focuses on the sensation of his thrusts reaching deeper and deeper inside. It only gets worse when he decides that one leg on his shoulder isn’t enough; it needs its twin on the opposite one. From here you swear you can feel him in your stomach with how deep he penetrates.

“Ya think he would even know what ya like? How to play with your clit, how to suck on your tits till you’re vibratin’ and your toes curl?”

How the fuck did he remember all that? You’ve only been together a few times and yet it’s obvious that he’s paid so much attention to detail that he’s memorized everything of those intimate details that make you a mess. As if right on cue his hand slips down between your bodies and parts through your petals to massage the nub at the top of your pussy.

“Ya think I wouldn’t care ta know what ya like?” he asks, the gravel in his voice delicious and yet menacing as you throw your head back and release a loud moan. “How else am I gonna make sure ya belong ta me? I need ta fuckin’ ruin this sweet little pussy so no one else can compare. I wanna be the only fuckin’ thing in that pretty head ‘a yours.”

As if you’d ever have the strength after this to even think of another man that isn’t him. The fictional man that got you into this predicament didn’t even exist and yet somehow you still feel guilty about him. There is only Simon, your Simon, that you can’t get enough of; no one else can ever come close. 

The lights in the parking lot kick on just as the last bit of daylight slips under the horizon and you can see now just how fogged up the windows are as Simon rips up your shirt and bra together, stuffing the clothing up around your neck and popping both breasts out of their cage before letting your legs slips from his shoulders to fall and wrap around his hips.

“Can’t forget about these beauties,” he growls before diving in face first and catching one with his mouth. 

Hot lips latch on as he braces a hand against the steam-covered window to hold himself steady so that he can continue to pump in and out of your tight hole and play with your clit as his tongue teases the nipple until it’s stiff and you can feel the pleasurable sensation down between your thighs. The moans filling the car come faster and faster as the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach grows. Simon doesn’t even come up for air, just switches sides to play with the other nipple until it too is hard; he wants a matching set before you come and he is gonna get what he wants. 

Your thighs squeeze down on his hips as that heat violently gathering in the pit of your stomach starts to come to a head and a devilish idea floods your thoughts. It won’t be long now and your orgasm will be coursing through you, but that’s not enough. If he wants to claim you, he is going to claim all of you…and fill you full. 

“Don’t pull out,” you stammer out and he falters in his thrusts. 

Simon quickly releases your breast from his mouth.“What did ya say?” 

You lock your ankles together tightly behind his back so he can’t escape. “Don’t you dare pull out,” you repeat and he nearly comes right then and there just from how the request makes his heartbeat pound. “God, I’m so close, baby. Please, I need you to come in me.”

Fuck, what a request. How the hell could he possibly refuse? He made a declaration after all and he intends to keep it; he is going to ruin you and he is more than willing to breed you to do it. His hands move to your hips and he buries his fingers in the muscles. 

“Then you’re gonna get what ya fuckin’ want, sweetheart,” he says as he strikes up into you with a newfound vigor that makes your body bounce. “You’re gonna take every last goddamn ounce.”

“Right there,” you moan, the pressure euphoric, “stay right there.”

He grunts. “Come for me. Come on my cock. Let me feel that fuckin’ clench.”

He struggles to repeat the same exact movements, his own release about to pop off at any second, but with a bit of effort his hard work pays off and that heat reaches its peak. The tension snaps harshly and tears through you until your body is jerking as you ride out wave after wave of ecstasy.

God, the way your walls are fluttering around him as you let go is heaven and he loses himself in the sensation. All that tight, wet, heat sends tingles through his cock and he can no longer remain sane. 

“My pretty girl…” he murmurs, his thrusts slowly getting more sloppy… “mine…” he repeats,  nearly there, preparing to make sure you take every ounce of his cum and coat your walls… “all fuckin’ mine.”

That’s it, he can’t take another thrust and with an open-mouthed moan he comes hard. Cum shoots up inside you as he milks himself with your body until he has nothing left to give and kneels there resting inside you. You watch the muscles along his abdomen contract and release as he slowly comes back down from that high. 

Such a masterpiece of flesh.

Minutes pass until he feels like he can pull out and he spends that time peppering your lips with tender kisses. Finally he carefully removes your legs from around him and sets them down on either side of his thighs, holding them open so that he can lean back and watch his cum and your slick dribble out of your cunt onto the cushion beneath you. What a beautiful mess he’s made; he can’t stop staring at it as if he’s in a trance. 

A visual sign that his claim is finally complete.

“Tha’s a sight that could do me in,” he breathes. “Ya did so good for me, sweetheart.”

He releases your panties so that they fall back into place and you can feel everything starting to gather in the crotch. You sit up and he pulls your face in for one last kiss; you’ve been here long enough that if you don’t get out of here soon it’s gonna draw unwanted attention. 

“Now get your ass back ta base and make it quick,” he says as he pulls slowly from your lips, “I want ya in my room, in tha shower; ya got exactly 20 minutes so ya best not stop. I’m not done with ya just yet.”

[darlingdreadwrites]

Awkward

pairing: Ticci Toby x GN!Reader

summary: You had planned to hang out in the woods on your day off, but the sound of Toby training reminds you of an awkward encounter. Confronting him leads to other things.

contains: a nervous toby, a little bit of a confession, toby's in loooooove, kissing

warnings: toby walks in on you half naked (encounter is under the RED DIVIDER!! skip it if you don't want to read it cuz it is kinda NSFW), awkward talks

wordcount: 1.5k

masterlist

a.n: needed to feed my toby fiends (i missed writing about him). also, for the EJ request, i am working on it, don't worry babes

The dark blades of grass tickled you through your long-sleeved shirt. You could smell the crisp autumn air as the cold kissed at your skin. Today wasn't the worst, you noted. You even had the right amount of sun. The orange-red leaves were cushioning your head, and these woods had never looked more beautiful. It was perfect. 

Thwack. Thwack.

It was perfect. 

You try to ignore the sound of Toby practicing his aim. You want peace and not be reminded of the awkward encounter you two shared. You shiver internally at the memory.

Having been tasked with another mission, you wanted to throw the biggest tantrum. It felt like you had just gotten back from one. As much as you might've enjoyed hunting, your body would get so sore. 

That’s why you were petulantly - and very slowly - getting dressed. You timed it; how long you should put an article of protective clothing to drag it out as much as possible. You just had no idea that this wasn't a solo mission for you. 

You were new. At least, new to Toby. He was used to the timely manner that Tim and Brian would respond when on a mission. That’s all he would remember until his eyes glazed over, leaving him as little more than a puppet to the Operator. He honestly thought you had forgotten about getting partnered with him and about your kill. He was right about one thing. That's why, unbeknownst to both of you, Toby was rounding the corner to barge into your room and yell at you like he used to be yelled at for taking too long.

Your bedroom door had swung open, and a heavy silence came afterward. You - being in the middle of putting your shirt on - had stopped to whip your head in the direction of the now-open door. If only your reflexes had the decency to let your shirt fall all the way.

Toby floundered, his mouth opening and closing dumbly. He didn't know why he couldn't - or why he even needed to - say anything. He could just close the door and not stare at you like he'd never seen a half-naked human body before. A very attractive half-naked human body that belonged to a very attractive human he had a massive crush on. 

He realized that now as the two of you stared at each other for a comically long time. His throat felt like it was the dryest it had ever been, and he worked to stop a heart attack from ensuing - and his dick from getting hard. But his eyes were struggling to stay glued to your face and not the way that your chest was on full display. He wanted to rush in so badly and squish his face against your - nope.

“Ooooh, fuh-fuck,” he whimpered. From embarrassment, you hoped. He squeaked out an apology before slamming the door shut.

Toby almost messed up the whole operation that day. You knew it had something to do with the incident, but neither of you wanted to address it at all. 

That was the whole reason Toby was throwing his hatchets like no tomorrow. You had to stop Tim from beating him into a bloody pulp. He said that if Toby liked his hatchets so much, he should learn to not fuck up his throws. He had no idea of what nightmare he had unleashed for anyone in the younger man’s vicinity. 

You try to shut out the repetitive sound of steel meeting wood. And the heavy, breathy grunts that came out of him, but you weren't going to get into that. As much as your brain screamed at you to ignore his presence altogether, a very loud, small part of you wanted to talk to him. You only recognized that as wanting to yell at him for being annoying. 

After a few more grueling seconds, you sit up. You internally hype yourself up to confront him as you stand up. You reach behind you to brush off any leaves or dirt that stuck to you. 

You'd only made it halfway to him when he heard the crunch of leaves. He knew it was you. Jesus, had he memorized the sound of you walking? How pathetic could he be? He contemplated scrambling in the opposite direction and leaving behind all his stuff for a moment. But when he saw your face come into view, he was stuck. Rooted, planted in his spot, and at your mercy. 

You offer a small, awkward smile before speaking up. “Could you –“

“I-is it the-the…” he trails off, glancing at the hatchets.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “Yeah, it’s the… it’s pretty loud.”

“My…my bad.”

“No, it’s – it’s fine, really, just… ya’know…”

Toby nods, grunting softly as he dislodges a hatchet from a very abused stump. He – pretends – to inspect it for a moment. “I have to-have to practice. I can’t hhhhelp how loud it-it is.”

You blink, taken aback by his defensiveness. “I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“I’m-I’m just sssayin’ that if it’s bo-bothering you, you cuh-can go back to the-the cabin,” he almost mumbles the last part when he sees the look on your face.

“Ooo-kay,” you turn to leave, not wanting to deal with this.

“Wait – wait!” Toby drops his hatchet and takes two big steps closer to you. “Ssssorry, that didn’t-didn’t come… out right.”

“No, I understood.”

“Then why ar-are you making thuh-that face.”

“What – “ you can feel your cheeks start to warm up. “What face, Toby?”

He points at you with a gloved finger, his right brow twitches. “That-that face.”

“I don’t make any face.”

“Yeah, you duh-do. Happens a lot-lot when you talk to mmme.”

Oh, you need to get out of here. Like, right now.

“Won’t look at you again, then.”

You go to leave again but get stopped by a hand on your arm. It’s warm – he’s warm – and your brain almost short-circuits because of it. It’s gentle, more than you thought he could be. You can feel the involuntary movements due to his tics, but you can tell he’s being careful with you.

“It’s not-not a bad th-thing, or whate-whatever,” he lets his arm fall to his side like he just realized what he’d done. “Just… nuh-notice it, ‘s all.”

“You’ve stared at me enough to notice that?” You scoff, intending to tease him, but your voice comes off a little shaky.

Toby doesn’t respond immediately – he just shifts a little to get closer to you. He doesn’t trust himself to speak because he knows he would’ve immediately said yes.

Yes, he stared at you enough to notice that. Yes, he actually, really liked your face. Yes, he’d thought about kissing your face many times. Yes, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of you when he opened your door.

But he couldn’t just say that. You always seemed annoyed, or tense, when he talked to you. And even then, you two didn’t talk a lot. Toby, not fond of being in the cabin for too long, was always outside. He noticed that you mostly stayed inside – preferring the comfort of your room. Part of him wanted to experience that with you. He hadn’t had any type of comfort in a while.

Toby realized that he must be freaking you out with how long he was staring, but – wow, when had your face gotten so close? Toby couldn’t believe that not only was he leaning in, but so were you. It seemed like an invisible magnet was pulling your faces closer until he could feel your breath on his face and smell your heavenly scent. A scent that he would only be blessed with every time you walked by. But now it wasn’t a fleeting aroma. No, it was so much stronger than he ever hoped it could be.

For a moment, all you could hear was the wind and the rustling of the trees in response to it. You couldn’t help but feel it all be stripped away. As if everything had disappeared, leaving just you, him, and this moment. You both paused before any contact could be made. Your eyes flickered up to Toby’s, and he did the same before your gaze fell back to his mouth. You always admired how pink they looked, so kissable. Oh, god, were you going to kiss him?

He steps a little closer – he’s inches away from you now – his head tilting slightly. His lips part, and it causes you to swallow involuntarily. Your brows pinch together, and you look back up at him. The sight has him yearning to grab your face and planting a long, bruising kiss to your lips.

You feel your pulse thrumming as he leans in to close that last inch. His lips press onto yours softly – almost tentative – and then his hand finds yours. The rough texture of his glove rubs against your skin as he pulls you closer. You can just feel how much he’s holding back – holding everything in his power to not brush his tongue against your bottom lip.

When you finally break apart, neither of you speaks. He smiles widely, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he almost looks absolutely adorable. Until he opens his mouth, that is.

“I knew-knew you liiiiiked meee,” he sang, shimmying his shoulders a little.

You almost punched him.

But, in the end, kissing him again would satisfy the two of you way better.

[cosmicbucky]

verity

summary: an inadvertently broken heart and a girls' night in can only lead to one thing: you drunkenly confronting the very man who broke your heart in the first place - aka your best friend, bucky barnes pairing: bucky barnes x female reader word count: 3253

warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk with friends, pet names, sad bucky, sad reader, drunk confessions, swearing, misunderstandings, reader gets sick (vomit), fluff, kinda friends to lovers (??)

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The music flowed through the living room around you, quiet enough to not overpower the conversations you were having with your friends, but loud enough for you to know what you were swaying in your seat to. 

It had been a while since you had a girls' night, though you were all but forced into this one; it was made clear by Nat that your presence was not an option - you were the only reason you were all gathered here now, each of you at least a bottle or two in. 

At first you resisted. You wanted nothing more than to wallow alone in your room, watching trash TV and crying over cheesy scenes. It wasn't that you didn't love the company you had right now, you just wanted other company. You wanted the same company you had every day for the last year. The same company that became your only solace ever since it took a literal bullet for you without thought just to keep you safe. The same company that read your favourite books so you had someone to talk to about them. The same company that sat with you and watched all your favourite shows so they could get a better glimpse of who you are and what you like. The same company you thought you were finally getting somewhere with. 

It felt like you got hit by a truck when the words "You know Bucky's been dating?" nonchalantly left Sam's mouth one day while you were having lunch. You didn't want to know more about it. You didn't want to know who they were, how the two met, or what they did for a living. You didn't want to be told anything other than the fact Sam was joking, that what you thought you had with Bucky really was real and not just in your head. Sam never said anything close to that, though. 

Bucky never brought up the dates to you, and you almost felt that was even worse than if he did. Why did he not want to tell you? Were you really not as close as you thought? Did he not trust you enough to tell you such a thing? Your thoughts continuously spiraled over the next few days, stealing away your self confidence and the air from your lungs. Nothing was the same anymore. You thought you knew where you stood with Bucky. You thought it all meant something. All the stares from across the room, the lingering touches, the 'just because' gifts, the movie nights, the sleepovers, all of it. But it meant nothing. You read it all wrong. And now it's been two weeks since you were able to look at him long enough for you to even say hi to him, let alone have a conversation with him. 

Bucky noticed the shift the moment it happened; when you slid ever so slightly away from him when he tried to hold you in his arms like he did every movie night. He noticed when the smile stopped reaching your eyes. He noticed when you stopped showing up for dinners with the gang every night. He noticed when you couldn't hold his gaze anymore. He noticed that you two just weren't the same, and it killed him. It killed him because he didn't know what he did, and he tried everything under the sun to get things back to the way they were, but nothing worked.

Everyone noticed when his demeanor changed. His fuse was shorter, his temper was stronger. He spent even more time in the training room, pummeling and destroying bag after bag until his knuckles were bloody; letting himself heal overnight only to do it all again the next day. He shamelessly threw a dining chair into a wall when Tony made a joke about how you must have smartened up and finally got sick of him, and his expression was so murderous that a Code White was called, effectively resulting in him being locked down in his room for a full 24 hours - he ended up staying in there even after the lockdown was over. The only reason he started leaving the confines of his room was to spend time with his best girl, and he didn't have that anymore.

All your friends were sick of it. They didn't know what was going on, and you both refused to talk about it. No one could even mention the others' name to either of you anymore without fear of having the nearest object thrown at their head. 

So plans were formed, and you now sat on the couch with a glass in your hand as you mindlessly swayed to whatever song was currently playing. 

"Who is in charge of this music? It is awful!" Yelena stated from her spot on the floor, taking yet another shot. 

"I picked it," you crooned, stilling your movements as you looked at her. "It's completely free of attachments to you-know-who."

A cohesive muttering came from all the women before you, and Yelena cleared her throat. "It is not bad," she corrected with a grimace, taking pity on you. 

"Are you drunk enough to tell us what happened now?" Nat asked, raising an eyebrow at you. 

Downing the rest of your glass, you looked at her with a thoughtful expression for a minute. "No," you concluded, filling your glass again. 

"Okay, this is torture. Time for a drinking game!" Wanda exclaimed, standing from her chair. "Everyone take a mustache and tape it to the TV. We're putting on a trash show and drinking whenever it lines up with someone."

You beamed with excitement, ready to both watch crappy TV and get drunk - gods know you needed at least one night to forget about Bucky. 

And forget you did. You can't remember the last time you were this far gone, the last time you had this much fun. The drinking game was very successful; it even got Yelena and Nat a little tipsy, which was not easy to do. No one said anything when you went a little harder than everyone else, when you drank a little more, taking shots when you weren't technically supposed to. You haven't smiled like this in weeks, and they weren't going to take that away from you. 

Your giggles carried on down the hallway, the echoes of your voice, of your laughter, music to everyone's ears - having gone so long now without hearing it. It captured someone's attention, socked feet being dragged towards the sound before even knowing what was happening, a seat being taken in the kitchen just to be that much closer, eyes gazing across at you, a face with such an amorous expression it would have made anyone who saw it sick. 

You audibly gasped as you caught sight of him, your eyes meeting his for the briefest of seconds before he looked away, contemplating whether he should go back to his room or not. 

"Oh, my god. Why is he here?" you asked the girls, unable to take your eyes off of him. 

"Why is who here?" Kate asked, following your gaze. "Him? What are you talking about he-"

"We don't know!" Nat chimed in, sending a warning glare to Kate that you were too distracted to see. 

"Why don't you go talk to him and find out?" Wanda suggested, quickly catching on to Nat's motive. 

You shook your head vehemently, making yourself momentarily dizzy. "Noooo. He broke my heart, Wan. What would I even say?" you replied with a whine, sinking into the couch as you lifted the glass to your lips again. 

She shared a look with Nat, two looks that said 'fuck, maybe we shouldn't let her do this' and 'what the hell does she mean by that?' You couldn't decipher either, though. The blood was rushing in your ears as you stared across the room again, torn between going to confront this beautiful, asshole of a man and staying in the comfort of the living room.

Before you could really think it through - and in your state, it's not like you really could anyway - you abruptly stood from the couch, taking a few seconds to steady yourself on your feet. 

"Fuck him," you muttered to yourself, vaguely aware of the girls trying to get your attention as you marched across the floor. 

His head snapped up when he heard you coming, his enhanced hearing paired with the fact you weren't exactly in a graceful state didn't give you the advantage of sneaking up on him. 

"Hi, doll," he said once you approached him.

Had you been in a more collected frame of mind, you probably would have noticed how quiet his voice was, how strained it was from the fact he was holding his breath in the hopes the two of you would go back to normal. You would have noticed the pain, the hurt, the confusion, and the hope dancing around in his eyes; making the blue that used to be your favourite colour now dull and stormy. 

You didn't notice, though. All you noticed was the burning pain in your heart that was supposed to be gone after all those drinks, but just one look at the man before you brought everything back. 

"You can't call me that anymore," you declared, shaking your head so much it made the room spin even more. "You gotta keep that name reserved now," you added bitterly. 

"Reserved?" Bucky asked, his brow knit together in confusion. "For who?" 

You scoffed, walking forward to close the distance that was left between you and the table he sat at. A few steps in and you lost your footing, but before you could even stumble Bucky was already out of his seat. His hands were on your arms in an instant, the feeling of hot and cold both burning your skin in a familiar way. The tenderness of his touch and the yearning you felt for it after all this time was almost too much to bear; your mind was spinning. Spinning from alcohol. Spinning from heartache. Spinning from anger. Spinning, spinning, spinning. 

"Let go of me!" you exclaimed angrily, shrugging yourself out of his grasp. "I don't think your little lover would want you touchin' me." 

Bucky could only stand there, blinking in surprise with his hands still outstretched. "My what?" he asked, his hands slowly falling back to his sides. "My lover?" he repeated. 

"Yeah, your lover - or… whatever the hell you want to call them. Sam told me, because you didn't," you told him indignantly. 

"I- what? Sam told you? Sam told you what?" he asked, more confused than ever. 

"That you're dating someone!" you yelled, the anguish clear in your voice. 

Bucky sighed and ran his hands over his face in exasperation before resting them on his hips, his lips pursed as he collected his thoughts. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he finally asked, trying to put the pieces together in his head. 

"Didn't expect me to know, did you?" you spat furiously. 

"I don't- sweetheart, what the hell is going on?" he asked softly, trying his best to remain patient. You were finally talking to him again, and it's definitely not the way he imagined but he'd be damned if he was going to let you slip through his fingers again. 

"No!" you said forcefully. "I'm not your sweetheart. She is. Whoever she is." 

"There is no ‘she’," Bucky told you calmly, trying his hardest to make sense of what was going on. 

"Okay, then he is!" you replied in defeat, finally throwing yourself down on the chair beside you. 

"What? No, that's not-" he tried to answer you, but you quickly cut him off. 

"Why didn’t you want to tell me?" you asked quietly, your voice cracking. 

“Because… I’m not dating anyone,” he replied slowly, more of a question than a statement. 

“Just stop lying!” you yelled, hands slamming onto the table. “Please, I can’t take you lying to me anymore, okay? You’ve been lying to me all year,” you added in desperation, your eyes starting to glisten with tears. 

“All year?” he asked, his voice quiet and shaky as he slid into the seat across from you. 

You could only nod your head, bottom lip trembling as the first tears started to fall down your cheeks. Bucky started burning from the inside out, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and kiss the tears away- but he couldn’t. So he stayed where he was, swallowing thickly as he willed himself not to start crying with you. 

“I never lied to you, you know that,” he said carefully. 

“You did, because this whole time you-... I really thought-... you made me think-” you couldn’t get the words out, falling silent as you tried to collect yourself.

Bucky instinctively reached his hands across the table to you before he caught himself, pulling them back and setting them on his lap. "What did I make you think?" 

"That you trusted me. That we meant something to each other," you explained softly, swallowing back more tears. "I thought you loved me back," you added, your voice so quiet it would have been inaudible to anyone other than him. 

"What?" Bucky breathed out, the air being stolen from his lungs with those last six words that spilled from your trembling lips. 

"I know you heard me." 

"Okay- now is not the time for this conversation," he sighed, running his hands over his face. 

You sat in silence for a moment, looking at him with such an recognizable expression Bucky felt like he was looking at a completely different person. "Figures," you muttered before shoving your chair back and standing up. 

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked, half out of his seat as he watched to make sure you were steady on your feet. 

Without another word to him, you turned and carefully started to make your way out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom. 

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" Bucky called from behind you, quickly on your heels. "No, you're not allowed to leave me like this again." 

"You left me first!" you yelled back, placing your hand on the wall to keep your balance as you walked a little faster. 

"I never left you once!" he argued, still hot on your trail. 

You scoffed, shoving open the door to your room and trying to slam it in his face; the attempt was unsurprisingly futile. "Stop following me, you said you don't want to talk."

"No, I said this isn't the time for this conversation," he huffed, shoving his way into your room and closing the door behind him. 

"Why? You don't want to admit what you did?" you asked, stumbling your way to sit on the bed. 

"For fucks sake, I didn't even do anything!" he defended with exasperation, leaning against the door.

"Yes you did," you argued, attempting to take off your sweater. 

"I'm telling you, I didn't," he told you, trying his best to not let out a laugh as he watched you struggle to lift the sweater over your head. 

"You did!" you yelled, voice muffled by the fabric. "You lied, and you kept secrets, and you - god, can you fucking help me?!" you asked with a huff, interrupting your own rant. 

Bucky suppressed his laugh as he stepped forward, kneeling down in front of you. "Alright, alright. Stop fuckin' squirmin'," he muttered. 

You stilled, muttering a few choice words under your breath that did not go unnoticed by him. Grasping the hem of your sweater, he carefully lifted it up and over your head to reveal your disheveled, pouting face. 

"There's my girl," he whispered softly, delicately brushing back your mussed hair. 

"I'm not-" you started to argue, before he quickly cut you off.

"Yes. You. Are," he said firmly, enunciating each word.

"But Sam-"

"Is an idiot," he insisted, cutting you off again. "He tried to set me up with someone but I never went. When he asked me about it, I told him we were gonna go out again so he'd stop fucking bugging me about it. I lied, sweetheart. I was never dating anyone." 

"You- there was no one?" you asked quietly. 

"There was no one else," he told you, his thumbs brushing away stray tears you didn't even know were falling. 

Before you could ask him what that meant, your room started spinning once more and your mouth felt like cotton and your stomach felt like it was making its way up your throat.

"I don't feel so good," you mumbled, staring at him with wide eyes for a moment before rushing to your bathroom, barely making it on time. 

Bucky was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding back your hair as you let loose the contents of your girls' night, his hand ghosting up and down your back. He sat patiently with you, muttering comforting words between each second of you getting sick as you gasped for air and sobbed, occasionally wiping your face with tissues. 

"Better?" he asked after a few minutes, his hands never leaving you. 

You could only nod in response, shifting away from him to rest against the bathtub as you closed your eyes. 

Bucky immediately fell into his old habits, wasting no time in taking care of you. The only thing that destroyed him more than not having you in his life lately was watching you practically wither away, unable to do a damn thing about it. 

"Drink, sweet girl," he told you, caressing your cheek in an attempt to rouse you before handing you the water you had no idea he even retrieved. 

You blinked up at him, taking a moment to process what was going on before taking the glass from him. As you drank he gathered up a washcloth, running it under cold water before kneeling before you once more. 

"C'mere," he whispered, taking your chin in one hand to hold you in place as he gently wiped your face. Your eyes closed once more, sighing in content as the cold water eased the burning under your skin. 

"I love you," you found yourself telling him. Your voice was a delicate whisper, but the words were so heavy you felt like they echoed off the tiles surrounding you anyway. 

Bucky stayed quiet, but you refused to open your eyes and look at him. Looking at him would make this moment real, so as long as you kept your eyes closed, you could pretend none of this ever happened. 

"Let's get you to bed," he finally said, causing your world to implode once more. 

Completely defeated, you allowed him to lift you from the floor. 

Not having the energy to fight him anymore, you cooperated as he helped you into some sleep clothes. 

Wanting to just hide away forever, you let him tuck you under the covers, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he slid in beside you, wanting to be there in case you got sick again.

The room was engulfed by silence for so long it almost felt like it was suffocating you, but just before your whirling mind finally succumbed to the allure of sleep you heard Bucky's gentle voice speaking out to you.

"Sleep this off, angel. Because when I explain to you how in love with you I am, I want to make damn sure you can remember what I say."

[asstrolo]

PISCES PLACEMENTS.

one thing you need to know about Pisces is that they always look aloof and are extremely observant.

✦ Pisces Risings have a very good intuition to situations involved with emotions and other people's feelings, they can read them very well, but should always be careful as they can appear to think they know what a person is feeling when it could be something completely different.

✦ People with a Pisces stellium deal with very difficult mental health problems, like any other water stellium (or any stellium) their emotions are at an all time high and can make it hard to put things into perspective when it's all just one energy. To add that Pisces are mutable energy and that energy is very volatile, balance is not something that comes easily to them, unlike fixed signs like Aquarius, Pisces stelliums get trapped inside a thought or a scenario in their head a lot, it's really hard to make them come back to reality unless they are aware of what they are doing. This does not mean they are unstable or untrustworthy, they are wise and can with frequency have prophetic dreams

✦ One thing about Pisces mercury is that they will lie unprovoked, they often lie for their peace of mind so people would leave them alone, but other times they just lie because they can and I can confirm this as a Pisces mercury I lie a lot about things that don't matter like when I buy something and I tell my family that the person that sold it to me recommended it because it's really good, that's a lie nobody recommended me anything

✦ I do believe Pisces like to be sad more than they liked to admit, as the sign is known for not being present and you can always see them not wanting to be in the real world, sometimes they can use their moods to escape real life issues or responsibilities

✦ Jupiter in Pisces generation are really good at spotting a person's energy, they tend to have luck in everything esoteric but can shield on that a little too much, have an over positive or negative view of life as they have a strong intuition sometimes they will fool themselves into believing something just because of the ~vibes~ thy feel, a little too delusional sometimes ngl

✦ Pisces in anything but specially Pisces sun people are very addictive, is the Neptunian force, when people talk about Pisces have addictions to escape reality that is valid, I do believe they are super intoxicating to be around, is something about them that leaves people wanting more. Watch Pisces people that are famous, Hozier and Rihanna, Maddison Beer or Justin Bieber, Olivia Rodrigo, and the most Pisces of them all was Kurt Cobain with a extremely present Pisces stellium and a Water dominance with a Cancer moon and Scorpio mars, he looked almost like a cult leader and that's the magic of Pisces, they can draw people in so easily it's hard to know where you start and they end, but that's the magic of mutable signs

✦ Pisces men why are you like that? I'm not a mind reader don't make me kill you

✦ As Saturn is transitioning Pisces people with this placements can feel like it's just one thing after another, they can never really be calm because Saturn is not about calm at all, it's about responsibility and maturing in the blink of an eye, they will be confronting things they used to sweep under the rug, which is something difficult to do for Pisces placements as they can be too n their own world to see certain things surrounding them

✦ Continuing the Pisces/Saturn transit, this can obviously be felt more on where you have Pisces in planets or house. Venus in Pisces will be dealing with a lot of hard lessons in love, if you have unhealthy patterns that follow you through all your relationships and it can feel very overwhelming when you try to connect with somebody but is impossible because there is something you must learn, or you view of love could be very different when you start your first healthy relationship or stay single for your mental health. It really does depend on the person as Saturn has lessons in all shapes and forms . Pisces in the 9th house could mean responsibilities outside their home or comfort zone, or the impossibility of traveling due to these responsibilities. College or School can take a significant time in your daily life as someone who is starting to take it more seriously, or the sudden decision to leave a career to chase other dreams. Either way, it's a challenging time for the dreamers

✦ Pisces placements and always looking like they don't know where they are

✦ Since Pisces is the last sign of the zodiac they do encapsulate a tiny part of all the signs and that's why they can be so changing, Pisces Sun and Risings are known to be really good actors like Anya Taylor-Joy having a Pisces rising or Oscar Isaac. They can mold into a different personality very well and that's part of their empathetic tendencies too

✦ to me pisces placements embody the forever I hate it here I want to be inside my mind palace ALL THE TIME there's a reason a lot of pisces placements are actors or writers, they continuously try to run away from real life!!

a pisces placements song in my opinion

[myhappylittlesideblog]

Make It Back

A/N: A right of passage- sticking the reader character into the 'Andrea shot Daryl' scene :) Reader goes OFF on her, so be prepared lol. Sorry if you love Andrea

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader

WC: ~4k

Warnings: talk of Daryl's injuries, falling down the cliff, Walker attack- nothing too graphic; Andrea shooting Daryl but just grazing him; mentions of gore/blood- nothing too graphic; angst, comfort, fluff, cuddling; Daryl being sassy; reader character fighting with Andrea (yelling match)

Summary: You confront Andrea after she shoots Daryl, thinking he's a walker. With your anger taken out on her, you then comfort Daryl as he spends the night in the Greene farmhouse.

You heard the gunshot. Everyone on the farm did. You just didn’t know exactly what had happened.

Following Lori’s lead, you jogged around the house, hoping it wasn’t another accident like the one that almost killed Carl. It was a single shot. Why would anyone risk a lone round out in the open like this? On this beautiful farm.

Once you circled the house, landing in a clump of Herschel’s family and a few others from your group, all you saw was sun. Its rays were blinding yellow as they cut over the tall, deep treeline on the edge of the meadow. It was the middle of a gorgeous day.

You heard Rick scream. It was a booming, worried thing. Then he screamed again.

“What the hell is going on here?” Herschel bellowed. 

You moved closer to the field, the gravel of the driveway turning to grass under your feet as you neared the van. Dale was standing beside it with his hands on his head, panic clear in his figure as he looked out to the scene in the pasture. 

“Shit,” Andrea said as she hastily climbed down the ladder from the top of the van. She started whining, more to herself than anyone else. “No, no, no, Daryl.”

“What?” you asked, a cold shock running down your spine from the back of your neck to your heels in the dirt. “What? What about Daryl?”

“I-I thought he was a walker,” she said.

Your head whirled to the cluster of men at the treeline. You tripped, your feet rooted to the ground in horror and misunderstanding. Was Andrea actually saying-

“I shot him.”

You bolted at her confession. These days, you were used to running, having done plenty of it through the woods to escape walkers. Then, you had to be careful of roots and puddles and dead bodies and the trees slowed you down, making sprinting difficult. Now, as you watched Rick fall to his knees in the distance, reaching for Daryl’s head after it hit the ground, speed came easily to you. The open meadow of freely growing grass under the clear blue sky was practically a racetrack.

Andrea panted behind you and the useless coins in Dale’s jeans clinked together, but you were faster, your feet agile in their swiftness. Your boots didn’t pound into the dirt like theirs. You sped to Daryl, only slowing when Rick threw one of Daryl’s arms over Shane’s shoulder and took the other one over his own. Daryl’s body fell limp against them, his feet dragging.

As the men caught their balance, you took Daryl’s face in your hands, seeing it drenched in blood.

“He’s unconscious,” Rick said to you. “We’ll get him back to the house.”

You nodded, otherwise silent. 

Andrea, however, let loose her apologies and worries in a shrill voice that made everyone around tense up like their limbs were attached to drawstrings. 

You didn’t listen to her words. Or T-Dog’s or Glenn’s and you didn’t notice Rick pull something from Daryl’s neck. Only the grass had your attention as your mind ceaselessly spun. Your boots pushed the tall blades around, making them sway with your every step. The shades of green were glowing in the slowly setting sun until they were marred- darkened by the looming three-headed shadow making its way across the field. Daryl’s blood dripped with every step, leaving red droplets behind with the last of the dew.

“I’m sorry,” Andrea said. When she touched your arm, you jumped, jarred back from the peace of the meadow and into the grisly present.

You didn’t answer her.

Daryl was still unconscious by the time Rick and Shane laid him down in the bedroom. While they’d carried him into the house, you beelined straight to Maggie, asking for a rag and some warm water. You ducked into the bedroom and dodged the panicking men so you could sit on the bed and wipe as much grime from Daryl’s face and hands as you could manage before leaving Herschel in peace to bandage his wounds.

When the door to the bedroom closed you out, you sat on the floor in the hall. Earlier, you had wondered if what Rick told you was true, if Daryl was only unconscious. If the bullet had truly only grazed him. You only fully believed Daryl was alive when you washed his face clean. His brow even crinkled when the wet cloth touched it. He was in there still. 

Lori sat down quietly next to you in the hallway. She patted your knee. She didn’t have to say anything. You knew her well enough by now to know what she thought. You’re a good friend to him, she’d say. And he doesn’t have many.

You leaned your head back against the wall with a soft thunk and closed your eyes. It was tranquil there for a moment before a familiar, unwanted voice interrupted. 

“Can I talk to you?”

You opened your eyes to see Andrea standing above you and Lori.

“Now’s not a good time,” you said. It was awkward and uncomfortable. “I’m waiting for- for some word.”

“I’ll be quick,” she asked, sliding down the wall and sitting beside you.

Andrea had a knack for rubbing you the wrong way at the worst times. You wouldn’t call yourself a ‘strong personality,’ but she certainly was. Whatever it was deep down in you was constantly butting heads with whatever lived in her core. You disagreed with her most of the time, but tried your best to be patient and gracious given the losses she’d suffered and the emotions clearly wracking her. Still, you couldn’t help but feel she went about most things all wrong.

Like insisting she speak to you now.

So you stood up. You asked Lori to come find you when Daryl woke or when you could go visit him- whatever came first- and you left the house. The turmoil in your chest almost made you scream. But instead of letting it rip through you, you sucked in a deep breath and walked down the front steps. To be alone.

“(Y/N), wait.”

You could tell it was her by the sound of her voice. 

“Andrea,” you warned, “I’m not in a place to talk right now.”

“To anyone? Or just to me?”

“Does it matter?” you asked, spinning around in the gravel to face her. “Can’t you just respect that I’m- I’m trying to-”

“What?” she shouted, hands in the air. “Trying not to yell at me? What if I want you to? What if I want you to scream at me? Tell me I’m reckless! Tell me-”

“Tell you what you need to hear? That’s not my job.” You were calm, considering the outburst in front of you. “Just leave me be.”

“No.” She ran in front of you, standing with her feet spread wide, blocking your path from the farm house. Like a child. “I need to… I need to apologize. To you. For what I did to Daryl.”

A laugh escaped you. “Apologize to me?”

“Yes. And-”

“You know who you need to apologize to, Andrea?”

“Daryl, I know, but-”

“And Herschel and Rick and Glenn and T-Dog, and everyone else you put in danger when you decided to not do what you were told.”

You watched her jaw clench and set in place. Lowly, she said, “I don’t need to be told what to do.”

“Apparently you do. Apparently you don’t have your head screwed on straight!” you said.

“What’s that supposed to mean-”

“No, Andrea!” you cut her off with a stabbing shout. “You’re gonna follow me around like this and beg for a piece of my mind? Let me give it to you! Lord knows no one else here will.” You took her arm, leading her away from the front of the house where your temper- or loss of it- wouldn’t disturb Herschel’s family. When she tried to talk over you, tell you she knew what she was doing with that gun in her hands, you snarled at her. “Shut up! I’m speaking now.”

***

You didn’t realize that the hidden spot you led her to happened to be just below the bedroom Daryl and the other men were in. You had no clue that your every word rode the breeze up and through the window above where Rick, Shane, and Daryl could hear you as clearly as if you stood right before them.

And you didn’t know Daryl was already awake.

Shane, arms crossed over his chest, peeked out the window at the sound of Andrea’s voice. He whistled to Rick. “Catfight.” 

“What?” Rick asked. He followed Shane’s gaze and shook his head when he saw you. “Nah, (Y/N)’s good. She’ll keep her head.”

“Wouldn’t be so sure,” Daryl grumbled. “Girl’s got a temper.”

“Never heard anything out of her,” Shane said.

“Thas ‘cause you ain’t never heard her complain ‘bout you.”

“Man, shut up,” Shane growled over Rick’s chuckles. “If (Y/N) gives Andrea a talkin’ to, that’s one less thing on my list.”

Daryl violently shifted the pillow under his head. “Dun even wanna know what’s on yer list.”

Shane shushed him, spitting on the window screen, and nudged Rick. “Wanna listen to her.”

***

You stuck an accusing finger at Andrea, keeping her staring at you and squinting into the low sun. “You need to understand, there’s no ‘girl jobs and boy jobs’ here. It’s not that simple. Just because you don’t like doing laundry and washing dishes doesn’t mean you get a gun to flaunt around by default.”

“They’re wasting my skills!” she hissed.

“Those guys,” you pointed out to the pasture, where Daryl went down, “Rick, Shane, Daryl- those guys are trained with those weapons. They were fucking cops and hunters, Andrea! That’s why they get the guns right now, not because they’re better than us, or whatever the hell story you’ve told yourself.”

“Then I should be trained the way they were,” she said. “Before they took it from me, I had my own gun for years-”

“After what you did today, I hope you never get your hands on another gun! You put every one of those guys in danger today. What if your aim was further off, huh? What if you shot Glenn? Or Rick? You could have killed him right in front of his boy! Right after Carl got back on his feet, doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does!” 

“Are you sure?” The sun was beating down on your back. The heat of its rays added to the roiling in your gut, making sweat drip down the side of your face and pool on your lower back. Its slick had your t-shirt clinging to you. “Are you really sure? ‘Cause if your shit aim was a half an inch better, you would have killed him today! One of our own. And you’re acting like you barely care- you’re here apologizing to me?”

“You’re closest to him,” she grumbled. “I was trying to be-”

You spoke over her meaningless words. “Daryl is an asset to this group. He keeps us safe, feeds us- he was coming back from looking for Sophia and what thanks does he get? A fucking bullet to the head. You took down a good man today-”

“I thought he was a walker!” Andrea screamed in defense.

“So what?” Your throat ached from its work and Andrea flinched. You forced a calming breath before you continued slowly and deliberately, hoping some of your words would actually stick in her head. “We are so lucky we’re allowed on this property. That we found this doctor.”

“I know.”

“And he asked one thing in return. No guns. You were told by Rick, by Shane- no guns. You saw- you thought you saw one walker and you waste a bullet on it? That one gunshot could have led a whole herd to this house, Andrea. What would have happened then?”

“I get it, okay?”

“I don’t think you do. Four men went out there to take down that walker. They explicitly told you not to shoot that gun. And you did it anyway. And for what? Pride?”

She stared at you. Then she shrugged flippantly. “I wanted to do it. I knew I could do it.”

“Well, I hope it was worth it to you.”

***

Shane whistled again from his spot in the window. “If we ever need a lawyer, she’s the one.”

Daryl laid his head back on the pillow after holding it in the air to listen carefully to your argument. His cheeks, ears, neck and chest were hot and flushed from your words about him. 

“She still down there?” he asked. 

“No,” Rick said. He rounded the foot of the bed and walked towards the door of the bedroom. “I’ll go check on her. She’ll wanna know you’re alright.”

“He’s red as a tomato,” Shane said, slapping Daryl’s foot, “but alive, right Daryl?”

“Barely,” he grumbled. 

***

It was Lori who found you first. She grabbed your wrist and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Daryl’s okay,” she said. “You can go up and see him now.”

You ran your palms up over your cheeks and into your hair, feeling the sweat that had gathered. You sighed. “Maybe later. He should probably rest.”

“He was askin’ for you,” Rick said, appearing behind Lori with a hand on the small of her back. ��Go on up.”

At that, you nodded and headed for the bedroom.

Miraculously, you didn’t run into anyone else as you made your way through the house. You would have been embarrassed to see one of the Greenes after what had gone down today in the pasture or even after scolding Andrea, whether anyone had heard you or not.

You couldn’t quite get yourself to open the bedroom door, even as you stood before it, hand on the knob. There was no talking or snoring or shifting of sheets from the inside and you debated if you would be a disturbance or a comfort to whatever mood you’d meet inside.

Finally, at length, you pushed it open.

Daryl was shirtless, legs tangled in the thin sheets on the large bed. He only took up a small portion of it, though he was laying almost diagonally across it so he could watch the door. Of course he and his tracker’s ears had heard you open it. He looked at you with narrowed eyes. 

“Hey killer,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t even.”

You stood in the doorway, watching him. His arm was tucked tight under his head as he looked away from you and down into the sheets. He tucked them up all around him, blocking his injury and most of his skin from view. You knew why, but ignored it. You instead stared at the bandage tied around his head. It made his short hair stick up wildly, like a bloody coyote in the woods. 

“You wanna be alone, or you want me to stay?” you asked, hanging onto the doorknob. 

He shrugged. “Dun matter ta me.”

That was the closest to a yes you were ever going to get. You closed the door behind you with a soft click and walked to the emptier side of the bed to sit on its edge. “You need anything? Water, or-”

“Got it,” he said, blindly pointing to the nightstand beside the bed.

“Kay.” The air in the room was hot, but since the sun was setting lower and lower each minute, you knew there’d be a breeze blowing through the lacy curtains soon enough. You wiped your brow again. “How are you feeling?”

“‘Bout as bad as I look.”

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

You breathed out a laugh. “You looked like death itself before, though, so this is an upgrade.”

He glared at you, but it was playful. For him, you knew it was. “Well, I was shot.”

“Yeah.” 

You swallowed hard at the reminder. Next to his glass of water was the bowl and cloth you’d brought to him earlier. You reached for it now, wringing it out some before bringing it to his forehead which was as damp with sweat as yours was. 

“What else happened out there?”

“Nuthin’,” he said, shrugging off the cloth. 

You didn’t budge and asked again. “You look rough, Dare. Herschel said there was something with your side too? I saw all the blood.”

He was quiet, attention again on the sheets as you dabbed at his forehead and cheeks. There was still blood on his chin and grime on his neck- mud and something else you didn’t care to guess at. You stopped at his shoulders. It was clear he didn’t want you looking anywhere near his chest or back, buried in the sheets. 

Then you noticed him watching you.

“You…”

“Hm?” you pushed.

“You were worried? ‘Bout… ‘bout me.”

“Of course I was. Still am. You’re one of us, we’re all worried-”

“I fell. And a couple’a walkers found me.”

Panic shot through you like lightning, branching through your veins and up your limbs. “Walkers?” No one told you. No one said anything about a bite or scratch or anything- “Is that, the injury on your side, it’s from a walker?”

“No,” he was quick to correct. “Nah, I fought ‘em off. Didn’t get me.” “Christ,” you whispered. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to keep the unshed tears stuck in your eyes.

“When I fell down the cliff, I took an arrow through my back.”

It didn’t-couldn’t-register. “You fell down a cliffside?”

“Twice.”

That was all you could take. The emotion, the stress and panic of the day, of the weeks past, caught up to you in one drowning swell. You felt your lips tremble and tried to keep them shut up tight, tried to count the bumps in the washcloth still in your hands, dripping on the knee of your jeans.

“Ay,” Daryl said, gruffly. He took the washcloth from you and smacked your arm with it before tossing it near its bowl. “Dun do that. Dun- dun cry fer me-”

“Argentina?”

“Wha?”

It made you laugh. It was a wet, snotty laugh and the curve of your cheek pushed out a fat tear that carved its way down your face. “It’s a song,” you said.

“Don’t start singin’ neither.”

You chuckled again, losing more tears and the fight to not cry in front of Daryl. 

With a painful grunt, he moved himself on the bed, opening a spot for you. He patted the empty space, mumbling. “Come on.”

You kicked off your boots and laid down on the bed, mirroring him. One arm supported your head, while the other tucked tight against you, keeping to your own space as you looked at him. His teeth dug into his lip over and over as he studied the hair and freckles on his arm as if he’d never seen it before. 

“Were you scared?” you whispered.

After a long while, narrowed blue eyes met yours and he nodded.

“Out there alone.” Your voice broke, shaking with the tight breath in your chest. 

“S’alright. M’back now.”

You flopped on your back, away from him for a chance to breathe. You were losing your grip and you didn’t want to break in front of him. You were there to support him, not force him into comforting you. But the thought of him in fear and suffering alone was stubbornly lodged in your throat. 

“When I was out there climbin,’ that’s what I was thinkin’ ‘bout,” Daryl said. “Thought ‘bout comin’ back. Seein’ ya. Knew I had ta get back.”

His words hung in the air. They were soft and open, his voice less harsh than usual. 

“That’s right,” you said. Using the collar of your t-shirt, as sweaty and dirty as it was, you wiped the tear tracks from your face and cleared your eyes.

“Now we both look bad as I feel,” Daryl said.

“Shut up,” you said. But you laughed.

The air felt clearer now. It wasn’t so stifling hot and you watched the transparent curtains dance in the breeze coming in through the window. Again, you turned to him, laying on your side, able to study him more. Daryl, however, seemed like he couldn’t bear the attention. His flitting gaze fell on just about everything in the room except you until he seemed to settle upon the safety of the bare ceiling above, studying it as if it were a map to a hidden treasure. Like a cure to the world’s mess.

“You okay?” you finally asked.

“Did you mean it? What ya said?”

“When?”

One of his hands flew up, gesturing toward the window. “Earlier. To Andrea.”

You hummed, lips glued together for a moment. “You heard all that?”

He chuckled. “Loud and clear. She deserved it.”

“Mm. Just lost my temper.”

He grunted, agreeing. “But’cha- what ya said ‘bout me.” He struggled for the words, throat and mouth working for the right thing to ask. “Said I was a good man, ya mean that?”

“Of course.” You sat up, moving your face into his line of vision. You made him look at you. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it. And I wouldn’t be here with you right now if I didn’t think it.” Your fingertips grazed his skin, tickling down his cheek until they turned the other way, your knuckles running the same path for good measure. “You are a good man. I see you. I see the things you do and no matter how much you like to hide it, I know you have a big heart. I���ve seen it.” You gave him a soft shove on the shoulder, teasing. While you were there, close to him, you brushed the hair off his forehead before returning your hands to yourself and laying back flat on the bed.

He grunted and pressed his lips together, staring at where your face had been, the spot that was just the bare ceiling now. Then he shrugged away from you and turned to the opposite wall and grumbled, “S’not what I asked, girl.”

“Gave ya some extra bang for your buck, that’s all,” you said. When he didn’t turn or even chuckle, you bent towards the floor for your boots. “Want me to go? So you can get some rest?”

He gave you nothing in answer. You at least hoped he heard what you said, took it to heart. But, you thought, that’s what you get for blubbering all over his bed. Only slightly bothered, you leaned towards the nightstand to see if he had enough water for the evening. Then, you’d leave-

“Dun haf’ta go,” he mumbled. 

“Oh.”

“So long as ya don’t go all girly ga-ga on me again.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as he peeked at you over his shoulder. “You mean telling you that I actually care about you? Then don’t go tryin’ to die on me again.”

He flopped over. “Ya think I wanted to fall off the damn cliff? Fuckin’ horse threw me off.”

Setting your boots back down, you settled into the bed next to him. “Horse shoot you with your own crossbow too?”

“You shut your mouth, girl.”

“Mhmm.” you hummed, grinning.

Like two parallel beings, you laid opposite each other, close, but not touching. You used your own arm for a pillow and tucked yourself under the sheet of the bed. Daryl looked past you, as if watching the door as another breeze blew through the room.

“Here,” he said, shimmying up towards the head of the bed and sliding the arm of his uninjured side under your head. You laid close, tucking your arms into your chest so only your elbows and your knees crossed over into Daryl’s space.

At least, it was that way until he leaned down into you, resting his chin on your forehead and letting his other arm drop over your side. You let loose a sigh at the touch- he’d made it back.

[citrusai]

bellara saying "why couldn't you stay a memory?" when she meets cyrian again now under anaris' tutelage vs solas cowering in front of the fragment of mythal that was locked away when elgar'nan killed her after he's erased all his regrets stemming from his time in her service off his walls in the lighthouse.

something something in grief we only see the best parts of those we've lost. something something memory is a traitor. something something solas' own memories are akin to that of a tree trying to grow up towards the sun to ensnare it. something something reality is often disappointing compared to the memory / fantasy. something something bellara thought her brother's death was staining her hands and through his memory she resigned herself to history and fixing the veil artifacts and now that he's here and he's actively harming their people she has no choice but to confront the idea that her brother is not who she remembers him as.

[supernaturalgirl20]

Hi, I would love to request a Joel fic. I love your work and appreciate all of the effort you put into your work.

I’d love something where reader and Joel have always tried to keep their distance from each other because they don’t want to get emotionally attached. But one night they’re drinking alone and reader kind of confesses her feelings without thinking. And Joel doesn’t really know how to respond.

So the next morning he acts like he doesn’t remember because he’s afraid to be with someone. And it hurts reader’s feelings, but she just doesn’t bring it up.

Until one evening they’re on a run together and they stay in a safe house for the night and reader can’t distract herself anymore and she confronts him. Maybe it turns into a passionate fight where he admits he remembered but was too scared to say how he felt.

Maybe ending with some steamy smut with a soft ending? I love a good pining/angst/smut combo and I think you’d absolutely kill this. Of course no pressure if you’re not into it! Thank you for doing what you do and I hope you have a lovely day!

Thank you so much you’re so sweet 🥹🥰 Absolutely loved this request. I changed it up just slightly but I hope you enjoy 😉

Trying Not To Love You

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, mutual pining, oral (female receiving), hidden feelings, confessions, flirting, jealousy, little bit of angst, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

You were feeling the light buzz from the alcohol tickle beneath the surface of your skin, the whiskey warming you from the inside out as it slid smoothly down your throat. As soon as Tommy had left the tipsy bison, Joel had cracked open the good stuff. 

It was a rare occasion that you’d both get this time alone, especially since arriving back at Jackson a few months ago. You were both either out on patrol or too tired to do anything other than sleep. 

“I still can’t believe this is our life now,” you say as you sit at the bar sipping on your drink. Joel hums in agreement, shifting on his stool so he’s facing you.

 “Feels too good to be true, doesn’t it? Doesn't seem right neither, us here livin’ a normal life while the world is gone to shit.” You can feel his eyes on you as he speaks and god the sound of his voice - that deep southern drawl that gets more prominent when he drinks - stirs something in you. 

“I know what you mean but we’ve earned it Joel. All the shit we’ve been through, this is what we deserve.” 

“I guess. Just makes me on edge knowing it could all be gone in the blink of an eye.” He downs his drink and leans across the bar to pour himself another. 

You use the opportunity to take him in. The way his hair has grown slightly longer, curling at the ends, a significantly more amount of grey littering his dark locks since Boston. The stretch of his plaid shirt across his broad back and shoulders. The sun kissed skin that peeks out from under his shirt at his neck. 

Your gaze drifts to his hands and the way the bottle seems so small in comparison. You shiver at the memory of how those very hands gripped your hips last night as he drove into you from behind. 

“God, I love you,” you whisper, freezing when you see the way his shoulders tense. Fuck! I didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

You were never supposed to feel like this. Weren’t supposed to fall in love. Sure, you both enjoyed each other’s company and fucked when the need arose but that’s as far as it went. You both tried to keep it simple. No living together. No feelings. Just casual. It was easier that way because you had nothing to lose then. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. 

“I - I, you….” He stammers as he pours himself more whiskey before turning to you with a wry smile and topping yours up too. “Ellie seems to be settling in just fine,” he stated, quickly changing the subject, his eyes avoiding your gaze at all costs. 

“Yeah,” you coughed, the whiskey getting caught with your breath. “She’s eh - she’s made some friends. It’s nice, seeing her happy.” 

Joel didn’t say much after that, just nodding his head or humming in agreement and when the bottle was gone, you both got up to leave. “G’night.” He muttered as he turned away from you and walked towards his house. 

“Night,” you whisper as you wait for him to disappear inside before letting out a sigh and making your way home. Why did you have to fall in love with him?

***

The following morning you had patrol bright and early and as you made your way towards the main gate, you caught a glimpse of Joel standing off to the side having a very animated conversation with Julie.

Of course, she’s with him. She’d been smitten with Joel since you all arrived in Jackson. You weren’t in the mood for this today. You weren’t in the mood for her today. You didn’t get much sleep last night, unable to get what you’d said out of your head. Why didn’t he say anything? Does he not feel the same?  Did he even hear me? 

You’d planned to address it this morning and clear the air, not wanting to make things awkward between you both. So, taking a deep breath, you sidle up beside him not missing the glare Julie sends your way as you gently touch his arm, drawing his attention to you. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at him and his face morphs into that scowl you’ve come to love. “Can I have a word?” 

Joel nods before turning back to Julie and saying that he would see her later. “Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?” 

God, I love when he calls me that. 

“I just wanted to talk about last night. What I said…I…” Joel furrows his brows as he leans against the fence. “Darlin, I’m ashamed to say, I don’t remember much bout last night. That was some strong whiskey,” he laughs, his eyes meeting yours briefly as he looks around at the others gathering at the gate. 

“Oh! Okay. Umm, then never mind I guess.” You feel as if you’ve been stabbed in the gut as your stomach twists into knots. He doesn’t even fucking remeber. Of course, he doesn’t. 

“Come on. Best get goin’, we want to be back before nightfall.” Joel pushes off the fence and walks towards the main gate, not bothering to throw you a backward glance as he makes his way out of the town. 

Your heart aches, feeling almost like you’ve been rejected but at least this meant that you could both carry on as if nothing happened. Right?

***

Her laugh was shrill as she looked down at her feet, twirling that strand of hair between her fingers as she walked beside Joel. 

You roll your eyes for the third time and huff loudly as you watch her flirt with him. The man was oblivious. Alway has been, never believing you or Ellie when you say that someone was flirting with him. 

“You and him have a fight?” Tommy asks as he jogs up beside you, trying to keep up the pace. “Hmm?” You mutter as you keep your gaze focused on the man in front of you. The smile he has plastered across his face makes you nauseous.

“You two are usually joined at the hip. He never leaves your side and now he’s up there with….”

“Miss Jackson 2023.” Your tone is clipped and the scowl on your face deepens. Tommy bursts into laughter causing Joel and Julie to turn their gaze in your direction. 

“Who pissed in your cereal this mornin?” Tommy asked, a wide smile on his face as he nudged your shoulder. You let your gaze drift from Joel to Tommy and you can’t help but let out a little chuckle. 

“M’sorry. Just didn’t sleep much last night. Me and Joel are…we’re good.” Tommy hummed as he let his eyes drift between you and his brother, not missing the way Joel’s gaze lingered on you. 

“If you say so. Come on,” he states as he pushes forward, leaving you trailing behind. “Fucking Millers,” you mutter under your breath as you jog after him. 

Later that night, you waited for Joel in your dining room. Dinner was waiting on the stove to be heated as soon as he came but as the hours ticked by, you began to realise he wasn’t coming. 

That ache in your chest that you had earlier when you saw him smiling at Julie began to creep in again. Where was he? He always came for dinner on Friday night. It had become somewhat of a tradition since living in Jackson. You’d both have dinner here and then somehow find yourself in your bed, wrapped in each other's arms. 

The voice in your head told you to go to the Tipsy Bison and see if he was there with her, but with a sigh, you turn out your lights and have an early night. 

Maybe he’ll come here tomorrow?

***

He didn’t show Saturday either. Or Sunday and when Monday rolled around, you’d gone from feeling sorry for yourself to downright angry. 

What the fuck was he playing at? Why was he being so distant?

Grabbing your bag, you throw it over your shoulders and make your way down the street to the main gate. Tommy had come by the day before to ask if you’d be willing to make a special run for medical supplies to which you happily agreed, as long as it wasn’t with Joel. 

Fixing your knife into your belt, you’re startled when you hear that familiar southern drawl. “Hope you brought your gun too, darlin?” Joel stood to the side of the gate with Tommy. 

Both Miller brother’s gaze were fixed on you but yours was only focused on Tommy, who you greeted with a scowl. 

“What’re you doing here?” You ask as your eyes drift back to Joel, that ache in your chest returning with a vengeance. 

“I told ya before, I don’t feel comfortable with you going on runs without me.” He’s staring at you, but his face gives nothing away which only serves to anger you more. 

“I don’t need no damn babysitter, Joel. I can handle it. Besides, Jason was gonna be tagging along.” You stood with your hands crossed across your chest, eyes narrowed as you snarked at him. 

“Never said you needed a babysitter. I know you’re more than capable of handlin things, but you know I ain’t ever able to sit still when you head out without me.”

“Surprised you’d even notice,” you muttered under your breath. “Fine. If you’re insisting on coming, then let’s head out. I wanna be home before dark.” You turn with a finger pointed to Tommy. “You. I’m gonna be having a word with you when I get back.”

You turn and march off leaving both Miller men staring after you. “Good luck with that,” Tommy says, clapping his big brother on the back. Joel scoffs as he turns to follow you. 

***

You could cut the awkward tension with a knife and every time you snuck a glance at Joel, you found him already staring at you. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. 

“I think we’ve got pretty much everything on the list, we should start making our way back.” You state as you turn away from the shelf, stuffing the antibiotics into your bag. 

Joel’s keeping watch, his gaze fixed out the window and gun cocked, and you can’t help but admire him. No. You gotta stop this. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath before closing the gap between you. 

He startles when you gently place your hand on his arm. “Did you hear me? We’ve got everything we need.” His gaze holds your own for a moment and you wish he felt the same way you did. 

Clearing his throat, he steps back slightly, your hand falling away from him, and you pull it towards your chest before swallowing the lump in your throat. 

He steps around you and opens the door slowly, scanning the area before ushering you outside. You’re both halfway down the street when you make out distant voices. 

“Fuck.” He curses as his head moves toward the sound. Five men emerge from the tree line and he grabs you by the arm and pulls you along behind him. 

“Joel,” you say nervously as he continues to pull you along. His grip getting tighter on your arm and hurting you. “What - what are we gonna do? They’re blocking the way home.”

He doesn’t answer. He just continues to move through the small town quickly as he tries to get you both to safety. He turns abruptly and you gasp. 

“Tommy has a safe house nearby. We’re gonna have to stay the night and wait it out.” His face is stern, but you can see the hint of worry in his eyes as they scan your face. 

You look over your shoulder, seeing some of the men making their way to the pharmacy and Joel gently whispers your name. 

“We can’t take them on. We’re outnumbered. I ain’t risking it. I ain’t risking you.” Your breathing becomes ragged, and his hand gently caresses your cheek. “Come on, darlin’. We gotta go.” He grabs your hand in his and moves you quickly through the town, making sure to stay out of sight before you both disappear through the trees. 

***

Night has fallen and Joel is out back grabbing some wood for the stove while you heat up some canned pasta. You’d argued that it was too dangerous to light a fire, but he’d said the cabin was too far out for anyone to see the smoke. 

It beats having to huddle for warmth, you think to yourself as you stir the pot. He pushes open the door and throws a log into the stove before moving up behind you. 

“Smells good,” he hums, his breath hot on your neck as his hand brushes along your lower back. “It’s almost done. You can sit by the fire. I’ll bring it over in a minute.”

Glancing at him over your shoulder, you see he has taken his boots off and your heart aches at the sight of him looking so relaxed. The cabin and the fire and the two of you alone it’s so domestic and that makes it hurt even more.

Handing him his bowl of pasta, you take a seat on the couch beside him as you both tuck into dinner. 

It’s quiet. Too quiet and normally it doesn't bother you. Joel is always kind of quiet, but this is different. There’s an awkward tension in the air and you begin to feel claustrophobic. 

You can feel his eyes on you, and it just gets to be too much. “Stop,” you shout as you stand abruptly, turning to face him. 

“What are you talking about, darlin?” He scoots to the edge of the couch, hands held up as if in surrender. 

“Don’t darlin’ me, Joel. Ugh…. I can’t do this anymore.” You clench your hands into fist as they hang at your side and begin to storm off toward the bedroom. 

His hand on your arm stops you though as he slowly steps around the couch to face you. “Baby,” he whispers as he places both his hands on your cheeks. “Talk to me.”

“No! No, you don’t get to do that to me Joel. You don’t get to ignore me for the last four days and then come here and start calling me baby. I’m not your baby. Or your darlin’ and you made that pretty fucking clear the other night when you completely ignored what I said.”

Something shifts behind his eyes, and you know you were right all along about that night. “I don’t….” He mutters but you're quick to cut him off. 

“Oh, pull the other one. I know you heard me that night at the bar. I know you heard me say I love you and you made me fucking think you were too drunk to remember. Jesus, Joel. Do I really mean so little to you?”

He shakes his head, but you don’t want to know what he has to say, not anymore. You pull out of his grasp and try to hold back the sobs as you make your way into the only bedroom. 

“Shit.” You can hear him curse before the sound of his footsteps echo behind you. 

“You’re right. I did hear you and the reason I didn’t say anything that night was because I was scared. I am scared. We’ve been together since Boston and in that time, I’ve grown to care about you. I’ve - fuck, I love you, alright. I fucking love you and it scares the shit outta me because if anythin were to happen to you, it would break me.” 

His breathing was ragged as tears shimmered in his eyes. You stood staring at him in shock at what he’d just confessed, and you could feel your heart swell at his words.

“I love you, baby, and I’m sorry for how I behaved that night, for how I’ve been behavin. I thought I could let you go but I can’t, and I don’t want neither. Think you can forgive this old fool?” 

You chuckle, unable to believe that you both are such idiots, and you can see the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile as he slowly moves towards you. His hand reaches out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. 

“Well, what do ya say,” he asks as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I think I can forgive you, as long as you promise to never ignore me again.”

He rests his forehead head against yours, his eyes closing as he lets out a contented sigh. “I swear it, baby. Can I kiss you now?”

His eyes are open now and staring down at you and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Nodding your head he places his hand under your chin and tilts your mouth towards his own before kissing you. 

Is this really happening? 

It’s soft at first. His lips gently caress yours until he licks along your bottom lip. When your tongues meet it’s as if you’re two horny teenagers unable to get enough of each other. His hands grab at your ass, and you squeal when he places his hands around your thighs and lifts you.  

You wrap your legs around his waist, and he walks you over to the bed, laying you down gently. 

Joel is quick to rid you of your clothes, the rough pads of his fingers skimming along your curves. His own clothes join yours on the floor shortly after. His eyes glaze over with lust as he stands at the edge of the bed taking in your naked form. “So, fucking beautiful baby,” he breaths, his voice husky with need. 

You rest your head on the pillows and watch as he crawls up the bed towards you, his lips trailing light kisses along your legs and thighs. 

“What are you doing, Joel?”  His gaze moves along your naked curves until it meets yours. “Gotta make it up to ya darlin,” he rasps and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

 His breath is hot on your skin as he hovers over your aching cunt. His tongue glides along your slick as he teases you. Lifting your hips you plead with him, desperately needing him to touch you. “Please!”

He raises a brow and smiles at you before me burying his face into your curls. “Ooh!” You moan as your back arches off the bed, hands finding purchase in his hair. He moves your legs over his shoulders and buries his tongue inside you.

You writhe beneath him as pleasure begins to build. He alternates between licking and sucking and shoving his tongue inside you that you are a complete and utter mess on the bed below him. That familiar heat begins to form, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to that edge.  

“Oh God,” you moan, as your orgasm rips through you. Your body shudders as you come down from your high. 

“Taste so sweet, darlin,” he says as he moves up your body, peppering light kisses along your skin. He’s flush against you, the tip of him nudging at your entrance and with one roll of his hips, he stretches you open. He groans loudly as he fills you to the hilt, his eyes closed as he tries to calm himself, desperately hoping he doesn’t cum within two minutes. 

Once he has control of himself, he begins to rock into you, his cock pulling out to the tip before pushing back in. You're already sensitive from your earlier orgasm and the way he’s stimulating your clit with his cock has you whimpering beneath him. 

His hands grip onto your waist, fingers digging into your soft skin as he sits back onto his knees, pulling you to with him so you’re sat atop him. 

He holds you down with his right hand as he pistons his hips up into you, his left kneading your breast as he pulls your pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucks. Your head falls back between your shoulders as you cry out his name. “Joel.”

Clenching around him, he groans - his head resting between your breasts, the feeling of you wrapped around him making him dizzy.

His hands grip your hips as you begin to move with him - rolling your hips over him. You shudder in his arms as your cunt clenched around him once again - his trusts become erratic as he nears the edge.

He grips your hips and lifts you off him as he cums, coating your thighs with his release. As much as you’d love him to finish inside you, you know that it’s too risky.

His eyes are staring at your thighs. At where he’s marked you with his spend. “So pretty,” he mutters as he lifts his gaze toward you. “I love you darlin.”

“I love you too. I’m gonna need to have a shower after that,” you giggle and he pulls you into him, kissing your lips softly. 

“How about I run us a bath? Sound good?” He smiles at you, moving a start piece of hair behind your ear. 

“That sounds like heaven.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @angstismydrug @mydailyhyperfixations @everythingfan @pedrosbum @ryangoslingstanktop @dzaga890

[storiesaplenty]

A request if you will ... What if Armando meets this bubbly person who got on his nerves. her eyes always lightened up every time she was in his presence, she fell first and he fell harder. Straight concrete. The way she looked at him, the way his body responds to her. Even if he had a hard time showing it, his eyes said different things. It wasn't always love on his end because he was so focused on revenge for his mom. She put the pieces together that his mother was lying. He pushed her away but she was always there even if he didn't know

He was her weakness.

Bad Boys Masterlist

My Weakness

Armando Aretas x f/Reader

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: mentions Armando killing. His past crimes but it is just pure fluff.

Requested by anonymous. I hope you like it

WC : 1026

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Summary: Armando met you while planning to take down Mike Lowrey, as you are a waitress at a small diner. After seeing his bike on the news, you confront him, trying to convince him not to do this, but he didn't listen. Not until it was too late.

I kept my head down, making sure that my hat was covering my face, as well as the the sun glasses.

It was a sunny day as I stood outside her job.

I could see her smiling at the customers as she took their orders.

I still remember when I first met her.

It was at this very diner.

I became a regular here and she was my regular waitress.

She asked me for my name, and because I already knew hers, I figured I should tell her mine.

I would see the way how she would look at me, her eyes would light up when I would walk through the doors, the bell signalling that a customer has come in.

I would see the way how she would make sure I would sit in her section, and she would be all over me.

My cup was never empty, she would constantly tell me that my meal was on her.

I tried to ignore the way how my stomach would flutter when I would see her walking towards me.

Or when she would say my name, and knew exactly how I liked my coffee.

But I was in town for a reason, and I did not need to be distracted by someone who I would never see again.

But when I shot Mike that night, she seemed to know it was my bike, when the video I took was all over the news.

I was sitting in my usual booth, eating my food when I saw a shadow next to me.

I looked over and saw it was her.

She was staring at me, with a look I have never seen before on her face.

At the time, I didn't realise it was disappointment.

"What are you looking at?" I muttered under my breath.

"I know it was you Armando."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." I went back to scrolling through my phone, trying to ignore the way how my heart was trying to beat out my chest.

She sat across from me in the booth, and I noticed she wasn't wearing her uniform, so she must not be working.

"You told me you were in town to help your mom with something. Armando, please don't do this." She reached across the table to grab my hand that was placed on the table.

I moved my hand back, just out of her reach.

"Stay out of this." I stood up, and threw some bills on the table to cover my tab.

She followed me outside.

"Armando, you are better than this. She is just using you. Please stop before anyone else gets hurt."

I stopped walking and turned around to face her.

"If you know what is good for you, stay the fuck away from me." I snarled through gritted teeth.

"You don't mean that." She said, seeing right through me, but I was already walking around from her.

Believing I would never see her again.

◆

But as I spent time in jail, she was the only person who I thought about.

Not even my mother and how she lied to me for years.

Not even the man, who is my actually father, Mike Lowrey.

It was just her.

I thought about writing to her.

Sending a letter to the dinner and telling her how she was right, and maybe if I had the guts, I would tell her how I feel about her.

Then all that shit went down with Mike and Marcus, and now I am on the run.

But I found myself going back to that same diner, day after day, watching her.

I could see that her smile never reached her eyes like before.

She wasn't as bubbly as she was before.

But I had to move on, as I knew I would be caught if I stayed here much longer.

◆

I waited until the end of her shift, and watched from across the way to see when she would leave.

As expected, she walked out the front door at 8:05, just like every time she works.

She didn't live far from her work, only a few blocks, so she walks.

I thought I was staying far back enough, but she must have known she was being followed.

She turned around to look at me, and she was going to say something as an angry look came over her face, but I took of my sunglasses and her eyes got real wide.

She whispered my name and covered her mouth, not believing it was me.

I took a few steps towards her, trying gauge her reaction to me getting closer, but she ran towards me and wrapped her arms around me.

I wrapped my arms around her, not believing that she didn't run away in terror.

"Armando." She said as she cupped my cheek with her hand.

"I should have listened to you." Was all I said as I leaned into her hand, turning my head slightly to kiss her palm.

"Yes, you should have." She said, smiling at me.

"I knew you didn't want to do this. Not really. I could see with the way how you would look at me."

"Even when I told you to leave me the fuck alone?" I still remember the hurt that came over her face.

"Yes, even then. Your face said one thing, but your eyes Armando, they always said another."

I couldn't stop myself.

I kissed her, and she kissed me back even harder.

I pulled her closer to me, not wanting this to ever end, but then someone walked by saying that we should get a room.

"Shit, your still on the run. Let's go to my place."

She held held my hand, as the two of us walked through the crowd, with my head down and the sunglasses back on.

From time to time, I would see her look back at me, and she would be smiling at me.

I kept my face neutral, but she knew how I was feeling.

She knew me and she knew she would be forever my weakness as I am hers.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

whoa, were going to ibiza! | buddy & monkey: double the trouble - pt. 2

well you guys have spoken and here is the second part as promised.

thanks to @alotofpockets and @lvnleah for helping me out along the way!

The day after the confrontation in the restaurant that led to you leaving and going back to the villa, the girls had all decided to go out and hire a boat for the day to enjoy the sun in Ibiza.

Despite the fact that you didn’t want to initially come on holiday, you can’t deny that you aren’t enjoying yourself while splashing around in the water with Grace.

“Aye, Monkey?” Grace calls over to get your attention.

“Yo, what’s up, Clinton Cards?” You turn to look at the older girl.

Grace frowns in confusion, "Wha... Anyways, do you wanna try and tip Lessi off her board with me? Are you up for it?" She questions.

You scoff in agreement, "Please, its' like you don't know me at all! Lets' do it!"

Mischievously, the pair of you approach the paddle board where Alesssia is minding her own business while lounging around and enjoying the Ibiza sun.

"Ready?" Grace checks with you.

You nod in agreement, "Ready."

Alessia catches the two of you and eyes you suspiciously, "What're you two up to?" She wonders.

Grace shrugs her shoulders nonchalant, resting her arms on the side of the paddleboard, "Nothing... Ya know, just chilling! Right, Monkey?"

Your grin is mischievous, but mirrors Graces' innocent tone, "Yus, totally just enjoyin' the water, innit." You state.

"Really? I'm not buying that," Alessia narrows her eyebrow and continues to look at the two of you, "You two definitely look like you're planning something."

Grace starts to give you a subtle look, with the silent understanding between you both as you start to move closer towards the blonde, trying to uphold the innocent act.

"Who, us?" Grace asks, fauxing a gasp with her Scouse accent evident, "We wouldn't dream of it."

"You two are up to no good, I can tell," Alessia rolls her eyes, but can't help to suppress a smile.

With a swift and coordinated movement, you and Grace move to both reach to hold onto one side of the paddleboard each.

"Hi Butterfingers!" You grin wickedly at the blonde, "Bye butterfingers!"

Alessia's eyes widen in realisation, "Monkey, no--" Before she can even finish her protests, she's completely thrown off the board.

"Hey!" Alessia yells in a panic, plunging her into the water as she comes up spluttering for water, "You pair, you little-- I knew you were up to no good!"

Both yourself and Grace can't help burst into laughter while Alessia retaliates back by splashing the two of them, before long the three of you start to get involved in a water fight, not long until Ella and Anna decide to join in as well.

"I'm going to get you both back for that!" Alessia states, lunging towards you, while you duck under the water to escape.

"Heeeeeelp me! Heeeeelp! Lessi's gonna kill me!" You squeal, jumping up onto the decking and trying to bolt from the blonde, whos' hot on your tail, "Save me from Butter fingers!"

Overhearing the commotion, Jordan is curious to find out what is going on as she's taken by surprise by you bolting right towards her soaking wet from the water, "What's goin' on?"

"Shes' trying to kill meeeeee!" You screech aloud, doing no more than jumping right onto Jordan who's left in shock at the sudden change of emotions towards her.

The older woman chuckles in amusement, "Enjoyin' yourself, little one?" She questions, glad to see a smile on your face and that you are somewhat happy now.

Freezing at these words, it’s like the simple old familiar nickname made you snap in the sudden realisation that Jordan isn't the person you're supposed to run to at the minute, in fact the older woman is the one that you hold a sense of resentment for.

So with that being said, you scramble up from her lap and walk slowly backwards towards the edge of the deck, "Oh... Uh yeah, uh buh-bye!" 

"Monkey... You okay, little one?" Jordan wonders, concerned at your abrupt change of mood.

Grace comes up from behind you and can sense the tension in the air between the two of you, slightly pushing you so you fall back into the water, “Whoops. Didn’t mean to make you slip.” She grins and dives back into the water after you.

"Did we... Did we just have a moment? Was that a breakthrough?" Jordan thinks to herself, trying not to spiral in her own thoughts and get too hopeful about things.

"She'll come round Jord, just give her time," Beth reassures her friend, patting her on the shoulder as she knows she must be finding this difficult.

"You alright, Jords?" Katie approaches, seeing the way that her best mate looks so upset about things.

Jordan exhales a deep sigh and nods slightly, "I... I guess so mate.”

"It's still gettin' to you, huh?" Katie questions, knowingly as she moves to sit beside her friend.

"Yeah... I mean, I thought we had a breakthrough there," Jordan admits, slumping her shoulders.

Katie hums in agreement, "Oh, I see..." 

What neither Jordan or Katie realise is that you have gotten out the water again needing a drink and you end up overhearing the conversation between the two of them and you can’t help but want to listen in.

"I know Beth says to give her time to come around but this resentment hurts,” Jordan admits, hanging her head low as she exhales another sigh, “Especially when it's my own kid that is rejecting me in the way that she is.” She adds.

"She will come around though, Jord,” Katie reassures her friend in a gentle tone, “You just have to keep showing up for her like you are.”

You can’t help but think about the truth behind the words, you really have been so awful to Jordan this whole time, but for what reason?

Thinking about it more, there isn’t a reason.

The woman has been there for you throughout, regardless of the fact that you had been so horrible and tried to push her away. Jordan has always shown up even after she moved– She was still always trying to be there for you.

You were just too stubborn to realise it.

“Jordy,” You approach the two of them as you give them a shy look, “I… I’m sorry. I have been horrible for no reason.”

“That’s my queue to leave you pair to talk,” Katie smiles at her friend, patting Jordan on her shoulder before she stands up, ruffling your hair and walking away to give you both the space to talk.

“You okay, kid?” Jordan begins the conversation noting your apprehension to say anything at the minute, “Do you want to come sit down?” She offers.

You're hesitant to agree but regardless you still move to perch beside her, “Um, I… I wanted to say sorry, uh again.” 

“It’s okay kid,” Jordan tells you smiling at you sympathetically, “You don’t need to apologise. I can understand that it has been tough to be here.” She adds.

Shaking your head in disagreement, you need to try and get the words out, “No, no, I do need too… I do need to say sorry cos’ I’ve been completely horrible to you for no reason at all.” You tell her, feeling guilty about the way you’ve been behaving towards her.

The older woman smiles sympathetically, “You had your reasons though, kid.”

“I didn’t have a reason to be so horrible though, I was angry and lashing out… And I miss Le,” You tell her honestly, “All I’ve ever known is you both… and you… you left to go to Aston Villa and I was so upset about that, so I hung onto the idea of resenting you and trying to push you away, but despite me being the way I was, you always came back... " You pause as you peer up to stop the tears escaping your eyes, "You've still always been there, you've shown up when you didn't need too cos' you're my Mama and that's what you do."

You’ve never actually openly called either Jordan or Leah your mums’ apart from when you have been upset or tired, but they are the closest people to that right now, so it feels right to call her that.

Jordan is your Mama, regardless of blood or not.

"Of course I'm always gonna show up for you... little one," Jordan lets' the word slip out of her mouth like an old familiar pattern as you lunge into her arms and wraps your arms around her, "I know things have been hard to handle, but regardless of wherever I am, I will always still love you so much, okay? Nothing about that will ever change!"

"You... You promise?" You start to sob into Jordan's shoulder.

Jordan smiles and holds you tighter in her arms, "I promise, little one. I'm only ever one phone call away, alright? You and Buddy are 2 of the most important people in my life!"

"Love you Jordy," You murmur, resting her head on the older woman's shoulder, “I need at least one fun parent in my life cos’ Le is stricter than ever sometimes. You get high one time and suddenly it’s this huge deal, I totally didn’t deserve to even be grounded!”

Jordan chuckles in amusement and shakes her head, “I can be the fun one as long as you don’t completely push it, eh?” She jokes, ruffling her hair.

“Deal,” You grin satisfied with that answer.

“Oi, you pair!” Beth calls out to break up the conversation from where she is standing, “I hate to interrupt the moment, but we’re heading to the club soon. Better get ready!”

“Yeah we’re comin’ now,” Jordan replies to the blonde, shaking her head, “Way to ruin the moment Beth.” She speaks, loud enough for you both to hear.

You can’t help but giggle in response, “That’s what Beefy does,” You tell her, using the nickname you’d come up with for the blonde woman.

Jordan chuckles in amusement as she shifts you off her lap so she can stand up, “Ready to go, little one?” She asks, looking at you.

“I’m ready to danceeeeee!” You exclaim, jumping up from where you sat so you can go off and get ready to head to the club.

“Yo this is so sick!” You scream, bouncing around to the live DJ set currently going on, the lights are vibrant and the atmosphere is great.

“Ain’t it just!” Grace shouts back in response.

“Ay kid, you got some moves!” Ella notes, beaming a wide smile as she watches you have a wail of a time with the rest of them.

You’re feeling in a better mood now you’ve made up with Jordan and talked about things, but there was still one person you were still not so keen to be near right now.

Katie,

You’ve been avoiding going near her with the words still sticking in your head.

“Hey, kid,” Speak of the devil, the Irish girl approaches you cautiously, “You and me cool again, now? I didn’t mean to upset you,” She wonders.

You bite your bottom lip anxiously and try to back up, “Yeah well you did.”

“Kid, I’m sorry. Come on…” Katie states, trying to not groan in annoyance at your stubbornness, “You’re not one to hold a grudge, are you?”

Scoffing in disagreement, you look at the brunette, “Really? You clearly don’t know me that well then, Leprechaun.” 

“Leprechaun, really?” Katie looks slightly offended with the nickname you had given her.

“Suits yer’ doesn’t it?” You smirk at the older girl.

“Ay, Monkey!” You spin around to look at Alessia who’s shouted over to get your attention, “Come and dance with us!” You're somewhat grateful she’s called you over, at least it’s an attempt to get away from this conversation.

“Sure thing, comin’ now!” Just like that, you head over to the blonde, who’s dancing with Ella and Anna, “Partyyyyy!” You shout, grinning to yourself.

“You’re gonna have to work harder than that, Katie, to get her to forgive you for what she said,” Viv states, watching the engagement between the two of you, “You should know that Monkey’s stubborn when she wants to be.”

“Kids’ stubborn as hell,” Katie grumbles in response.

“Yep,” Beth chuckles in agreement.

Katie watches you dance with some of the girls and she can’t help but feel further guilt about the words that she said as Jordan approaches her and pats her on the back reassuringly, “Just give her some time and she’ll come around,” She repeats the words she had been told earlier on to her best friend.

Despite the remaining tension between you and the Irish woman, you try to forget that by letting yourself enjoy the music and dance with your friends, feeling the weight of the last few days lift off your shoulders as Alessia twirls you around.

“See? Told you that dancing would make you feel better!” The blonde grins as you both dance.

“Yeah, you’re right, Lessi. This is awesome!” Your enjoying yourself and having fun when you feel your phone start to vibrate in your pocket which pulls your attention away when you see who it is, “Oh, hold on. Malfoy’s calling me. I’ll be back!” Trying to find a more quiet area is a bit of a challenge in such a busy place, but you’re keen to be able to talk to her.

“You alright, little one?” Jordan wonders, noting you walk away from the group.

You nod in response, “Yeah, Le’s callin’ me so I’m just gonna go and take it.”

“Alright, don’t wander off too far,” Jordan tells you, ruffling your hair much to your annoyance.

“Jord,” You grumble and attempt to dip under her arm as you swipe to answer, “Ello? New phone, who dis’?” You can’t help but playfully joke with the woman on the other end of the phone.

There's a short gasp on the other side of the phone, “Oh, you’ve been on holiday for a few days and you’ve already forgotten about me?” She jokes, pretending to act hurt, “I see where I stand, Menace.”

“Ha, fooled ya!” You exclaim just as playful, “Ello’ Malfoy! I’m missin’ youuuuu!” You tell her.

“Well you sound like you’re in a good mood,” Leah picks up on your playful mood to be a good sign on the other end of the phone, “I guess that you and Jord are speaking now?” She asks.

“Oh yeah, we’re good! We spoke and stuff, things are like chill now,” You tell the blonde, honestly.

“Really? I’m glad to hear that,” Leah replies on the other end of the phone, “So, you’re enjoying your time away now then?”

“Yep, yep, well I had an argument with Katie, so uh… Things are a bit distant now,” You admit to her, scratching the back of your neck slightly.

“You argued with Katie?” Leah questions, confused, “About what?”

You are a bit apprehensive to tell her what had happened because she can be a bit protective at times, “Oh, well uh, she brought things up from the past.”

“Like what?” Leah asks, curiously.

“Well, she said something along the lines of my mum and dad abandoning me–” You don’t get a chance to finish your sentence before she’s cut you off.

“She did what?!” The blonde shouts aloud in anger.

You wince slightly and pull the phone away to spare your own ears from going deaf, “Le, man. Calm down.”

“She has no right to say those things, no right at all. That is completely out of order for her to say that!” Leah’s off ranting in anger and you can’t get a word in edgeways, “No right at all!”

“Le, it’s fine… Calm down, honestly, it’s fine,” You tell her, trying to get the blonde to cool her temper down ever so slightly, even though you’re definitely not okay still, “You’re more upset about this than I am.” You try and joke to make the situation light.

“Yes, I am mad. I… I  can’t believe she would– How could she say… Why would she say that?” Leah continues to rant down your ear, feeling angry about the whole ordeal, “I hope that Jordan said something to her!” She turns her attention to mention her ex girlfriend.

“Um, I think so?” You tell her, narrowing her eyebrows, “I’m just trying to keep my distance right now.” You admit to the blonde, trying to diffuse the situation.

You can tell Leah is mad right now, probably so mad that she would get in a cab to come and speak with the Irish brunette herself, but that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

You don’t want a fight.

Leah on the other end of the phone probably does, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Monkey. I can’t believe she said those things to you!” You can tell that she’s trying to control her emotions, “I swear when I see her– I have a good mind to get in a cab and…”

“I know, but I’m okay, Le. Honestly,” You try and keep the blonde from getting in a cab right there and then, “You don’t need to come here, it’s fine!” You tell her.

There’s a sigh on the other end of the phone, “You’re sure?” She asks.

“Mhm, I’m doin’ alright, I just… I miss you,” You admit to her, honestly.

“I miss you too, my cheeky Monkey,” Leah is quick to reply back in agreement, “It won’t be long until you’re home next week.” She adds.

“And then we can go and buy more Lego?” You wonder, cheekily.

“I don’t know about that now,” The blonde laughs on the other end of the phone, “I’m glad you’re back on good terms with Jord again.”

You hum in agreement, “Yeah, me too.”

“She loves you just as much as she loves Buddy,” Leah tells you, honestly and it makes you smile automatically, “As far as we’re both concerned, you’re our kid, okay?”

“I… Uh, okay,” You’re lost for words, you never know how to respond to words like that.

“Monkey! Are you coming to dance?” You hear Ella shout out to get your attention from where you stand chatting to Leah on the phone.

Whipping your head around, you look over to where the brunette is standing with Alessia, “Be there in a minute, hold on!” You tell before you turn your attention back to the phone call, “Le, I gotta go. I wanna dance!”

“Oh sounds like fun, don’t let me stop you,” Leah let out a laugh on the other side of the phone, “Don’t get falling asleep now.” She teases.

“Seriously? I can’t help it when I’m tired. I gotta go anyway.” You whine in disagreement as you huff as you realise one thing.

You had called Jordan your Mama, but you’re yet to actually call Leah your Mum.

They have both been there for you more than anyone, it doesn’t feel right to call one without the other.

“You know I’m only messing with you,” Leah laughs at her own expense, “Go off and have fun!”

“I will, I will! I’m gonna go now anyways, so buh-bye Mum, love you!” You say without even thinking twice about it.

Leah quietly gasps on the other end of the phone, "I… I love you too, my girl. Have fun!" You hang the phone up on your end none the wiser that on the other end of the phone, the blonde starts sobbing as all her friends rally round to find out what the matter is.

"Le, what's wrong?" Keira questions, concerned.

"Has something happened with Monkey?" Holly chimes in, concerned.

"What's going on?" Alex is concerned with the blonde's tears.

"Monkey just called me mum," Leah states, tearfully smiling as she tells her friends, "My girl just called me mum!"

The rest of your holiday in Ibiza has been fun and before you knew it, it's soon coming to an end and you're due to fly back to London along with the girls, other than Katie, who is taking another flight to Paris to support Caitlin in the Olympics.

You wish you could go out there and support Kyra, but you have to get back to training.

"Flights' boarding soon, kid,” Jordan pulls you out of your thoughts, standing up in front of you.

You nod briefly and keep your attention to your phone in your hand,  "Okay.”

In your defence, you would be more enthusiastic about it if it wasn’t for the early time that you’re at the airport.

Why is it that every time you fly, all the flights are super early in the morning? It completely sucks waking up early enough to be dragged to an airport.

"Have you thought about who you want to sit beside on the plane?" Jordan questions.

"Nope," You tell her, trying to fight to keep your eyes awake even though you’re incredibly tired.

That’s what sleep deprivation does to you, such fun.

"Well there's still time to decide I guess,” Jordan frowns as she ruffles your hair, which just annoys you but of course you’re too tired to care, “Do you want to go and have a look in the shop and see if there's anything you like in there?"

"Sure,” You agree, shrugging your shoulders and standing up from your seat, “Can I get an energy drink?” You try your luck here, you might be able to get away with it a lot better with Jordan at least.

“Nice try, I know you’re banned from drinking those,” Jordan shakes her head in disagreement, resting her hand on your back as you start to walk towards the shop.

As you walk towards the duty free section in the airport, you overhear the announcement for Katie's flight to Paris.

"Wait, wait," With that, you turn back to bolt over to Katie, who's just about to head to her gate, "Leprechaun, wait!" You shout aloud to stop her from walking any further.

"Wha... Do you have to insist on calling me that, Monkey?" Katie's words are thrown aside as you throw your arms around her in a tight hug, "Uh, what's all this about?"

"I... I don't want you to leave when you think I'm mad at you cos' I'm not anymore...  I forgive you!" You exclaim, peering up to look at her with your arms still wrapped around her.

Katie starts to smile at your words, “You do? Listen kid, I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't think about it properly," She tells you honestly, “I am sorry.” She repeats.

"It's alright," You shrug your shoulders.

Jordan catches up to you both and glances between the two of you, "Everythin' alright here?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're good," You tell her, nodding in agreement.

"Right, I gotta catch my flight or I'm gonna miss it," Katie realises as she hears her flight number get called out again, “You gotta let go, shorty.” She jokes, ruffling your hair.

You're too tired to even care about her messing it up right now, but you had to make sure you spoke to her before she flew to Paris.

"Have a safe flight, mate. Tell Caitlin that we said hi and good luck as well!" Jordan states, enveloping her best friend in a warm hug.

Katie returns the hug and smiles at Jordan, "I will do, thanks mate. I hope you guys have a safe flight back to London as well!" She tells you both, “Stay out of trouble, Monkey.” She jokes.

"Bye, Leprechaun!" You hug the woman tightly again before she heads off to her gate, "Okay, now can we go and check out the lego before we catch our flight?" You wonder.

Jordan chuckles and wraps her arm around your shoulder, "Course we can, that was mature of you to do. I'm proud of you, little one."  She tells you, honestly.

You all but drag Jordan into the shop as soon as you set your eyes on a new lego set, it's one you've been wanting for a while and you're ecstatic to see it there in sight, "Ohhhhhh my gawd!"

If you weren’t awake before then you definitely are now.

Lego is love, lego is life!

Jordan however doesn’t understand your urgency or excitement as you’re rushing towards it, "Wha... Aye, kid. Slow down-- Where are you off?"

"Looky, looky! They have it, they have it. I neeeeeed to get it!" You bounce up and down on your toes and point with your index finger to the lego set in front of you.

"The lego car?" Jordan looks at you gone out.

"Pleaseeeeee, it's not just any lego car. It's the Lego Technic 42160 Audi RS Q e-tron Remote Control Car Toy," You don't care if you sound like a complete nerd, you absolutely do need it, "I need it, I do! I do!"

"You don't say," Jordan chuckles, amused by your knowledge.

You stare at it in complete awe, "I've been wantin' to get this for ages, but mean Malfoy said no last time because I spent all my monthly allowance-- I need to get it so much!" You all but tell her, wanting that right now more than anything.

“Alright then,” Jordan nods as she looks over it, “Well go ahead, pick it up then and we’ll get it.”

You spin your head around to look at her in shock, “Wait, what?” You’re not sure if you heard it right.

“I’ll buy it for you,” Jordan tells you, laughing in amusement at your shocked face.

“You will?!” You stare at her with wide eyes, “No way!” You exclaim in excitement, your inner childlike happiness coming out when it comes to Lego.

“Yeah, it’s my treat,” The older woman agrees with you, glad to see you look so happy once again.

You grin and eagerly pick one up, “"Yeeees, thanks Jordy. I love youuuuuu!"

"I love you too, little one. C'mon let's go and pay for it then," Jordan chuckles, heading over to purchase your new toy which you can't wait to set up the minute that you get home, before you head to meet the rest of the girls.

"Whatcha got there, Monkey?" Ella wonders, spotting you practically running back to them.

"New LEGO! Looky, check it out!" You are excited enough to show it off to anyone who cares.

"Wow, that looks cool!" Vic admires it.

You grin in agreement, "Don't it just?"

"You've gone and spoiled her already? That didn't take long, Jord," Beth jokes with her friend.

"It's just one thing, it's not a big deal," Jordan rolls her eyes and shakes her head, "The kid deserves it, don't she?"

"You're too soft, you know she has an obsession with Lego, right? Leahs' house has more lego house in it than she knows what to do with it,"

"Then I'm sure she'll be thrilled for something else," Jordan remarks, smirking as she takes in the joy on your face with your new remote control car, "Look how happy she looks!" She adds.

"Mhm, I do have to admit that she does seem happy," Beth replies in agreement, "I'm glad you have both made up, Monkey does need you despite how stubborn she is."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm glad we've made up too," Jordan tells her, looking over at you and smiles, "I love that kid so much ever since she came into our lives, it broke my heart for her to be so cold and distant towards me."

Soon enough, your flight is called and of course you board the flight with your new remote control in hand, because you're not in any type of rush to lose it.

And much to Jordan's own surprise, it's her that you sit beside on the plane back to London.

Although she does start to dread it ever so slightly when you yap in her ear the whole time, but despite that, she's just glad you're both on good terms again.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[daengtokki]

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

WC: 13.6k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: seungmin's worst memory. death & murder. domestic/child abuse. medical settings, medication usage, hallucinations, & shared delusions. more murder. fluff...& sex.

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: I reached 600 followers a few days ago, so thank you guys for liking my stuff enough to deal with me ♡

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TAGLIST: @kkamismom12/ @r0tt1n/ @heluvschibi / @feckinbecky / @missystay / @seungluvr / @babrieeee / @curiouscocoabean / @feelikecinderella / @carpioassists / @soulsbbg / @san-axa0 / @vixensss / @keiizzx / @xyliskz / @reignessance

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟒𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟗

The rain stopped sometime during the night, but it pelted against the roof and windows, and it kept him awake for hours. Usually, the steady sound lulls him to sleep, but last night was different—there was nothing relaxing about that downpour. He does remember waking after his first time dozing off, though, and it was eerily silent with the sound of the rain suddenly gone. But he knows he heard something...it, right outside his window, walking around on the wet, muddy ground.

The first thing he does in the morning is run to his window to open the curtains and let the sun in. The second thing he does is look at the ground in front of the bushes. Deer tracks, he thinks. He’s not good with the local fauna, but he knows they aren’t human footprints. Seungmin doesn't know what lives in those woods, and he doesn’t go in anymore to find out.

Seungmin-ah!

“I’m up, I’m coming!” He quickly rifles through his drawer and pulls out a change of clothes. “I’m coming!” Just as he starts toward the door, he turns and heads back to his bed to throw the covers back up, fluff up his pillow, and grab Daengmo.

“Come get some breakfast”

The door creaks as he pulls it halfway shut, and he bolts down the long hallway toward the kitchen, slipping a little in his socks. Seungmin stops abruptly when he hears the door to his left swing open, and his stomach drops.

“Slow down”

He doesn’t want to look up at him, but he has to, so he gets it over with quickly. “I’m sorry…a—“ he stops himself. Even after so much time has passed, calling him appa is still a reflex. He’s the only father Seungmin can remember. “I’m sorry.” But stepfather doesn’t like it coming from Seungmin’s mouth anymore.

“Breakfast isn’t going anywhere, and neither is your mother.” He passes by him, but not before ripping Daengmo from under his arm, “aren’t you too old for this yet?” Daengmo stares blankly at him, and he stares back with a grimace. Seungmin heart starts to race just as the dog is dropped at his feet. “Should have left this stupid thing out there instead.”

Because he would have never found his way home.

“There you are, my sleepy puppy”

“The rain kept me up, umma”

She sets a bowl of seaweed soup in front of Seungmin, and then another bowl full of rice. “I scrambled some eggs, too, if you’re hungry enough.” Her hand runs down the side of his head to try and flatten out his bed hair.

“Yes, please,” he smiles at her when she returns with a plate.

“And some of the strawberries we picked up yesterday.”

“Did you already eat?”

“I did. As soon as you’re ready, we’ll go replant some more flowers.”

*

The greenhouse is hot and humid, but he likes it. He loves the warm months when the plants and flowers come to life, and he loves fall, when the chrysanthemums bloom, and the asters and the marigolds hang on a little longer. It’s always bright and pretty in here, at least until winter creeps in and scares almost everything away.

“Come here, love…hold this for me”

Seungmin drops to his knees and holds the big mound of dirt in his hands. “What are these?”

“Japanese iris”

“And those?”

“Camellia”

A crash from outside grabs his attention, and he almost drops his iris bud before the pot is ready.

“Hey puppy, look at me…don’t worry about him”

“I’m not”

She looks at him, a smile on her face, but eyes full of worry. Seungmin worries all the time, and she knows that. He worries more than any nine year old ever should, and all she wishes for is a chance to take him somewhere far away and never look back. No more worry, and no more fear. “It’s just us, okay? Me and you.”

“Yeah, just us”

The rain starts again, first a slow drop here and there, and gradually, it turns into a downpour. Again, he hears a crash, and even over the deafening sound of rain, he hears his stepfather screaming at nothing in his shed.

“The rain will ruin his day, but not ours”

“Are we planting more of those?” He points to the bright purple flowers in the corner.

“Do you like those? They’re my favorite.”

“They smell nice”

“They do, but they don’t like this weather. Heliotrope needs lots of sun and a little less rain.”

Seungmin pouts.

“That doesn’t mean we won’t try”

The ultrasound room is freezing, and the blanket they put over you is pulled all the way up to your chin. It’s not helping, though. Seungmin slides his jacket off and sets it on top, and his warmth still trapped inside finally helps you stop shivering.

“What’s taking them so long?” He grumbles.

You shrug—this is only your second time in a Korean hospital, but you’re kind of used to waiting when you go to an emergency room, or a doctor’s appointment. The two of you decided the drive back home the next morning instead of revisiting the hospital in Daegu, mostly because Seungmin was eager to get you back to the bed you’ve gotten used to, and back to where he could access the contents of his bank account. Uljin can wait another week or two, he said. Time to resettle and clean up any messes left behind. And you know he also wanted to find a doctor close to home as soon as possible.

“It hasn’t been that long, it’s okay”

“Long enough. And it’s too cold in here. Maybe we can look for another doctor.”

“Let’s at least meet her first. It seems nice here."

*

The apartment looked fine, but it was easy to tell things were moved around. Everything was just slightly off.

“I can’t believe the missing piece of rug wasn’t suspicious.” You look hard at the spot where the kill from that night bled out. There’s no reason to think this was cut because of anything more than a bad spill.

“Yeah, and the spot where the girl fell.” Seungmin stands there and looks at the bare floor. “I’m really glad you didn’t pull that knife out.”

“I used to watch a lot of crime dramas. I still do, just Korean ones."

“That’s how you knew how to stab?”

“I also watched a lot of Dateline”

He cocks an eyebrow at you.

“True crime”

“Oh, that’s me…true crime. Well, that’s us now.”

“Us? That’s romantic.

*

There’s a soft knock on the door, and an older woman, the ultrasound tech, walks in and greets both of you.

“Mother speaks only English? I can speak English.”

“Thank you.” You slide Seungmin’s jacket off and hand it back to him.

“It should be warmer soon, we turned the heat up”

You’re nervous, but you know that Seungmin is even more nervous. From the corner of your eye, you see him hugging his jacket tight as the woman guides your legs up and open, carefully drapes another blankets across your knees, and adjusts the machine on your right.

“I thought you got the little wand on your stomach,” he says, and his eyes move back and forth between you and your wide open legs.

The woman answers first. “Not this one. This gives us a better look, because it’s still early.”

“Oh”. Seungmin watches her every move as she preps, but eventually finds your hands and squeezes it. “Are you warmer?”

You nod, but now all of your attention is on her and the wand in her hand. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Are you ready? Take a nice deep breath, and relax."

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟗

More rain, Seungmin thinks as he pushes himself deeper under his blanket. The slow pings start against his window, and he watches as it beats against the glass, harder and harder. The rain never bothered him much before, and it’s not really the rain that’s making sleep so difficult. The problem is what seems to be right outside of his window when the rain comes. Seungmin can’t see it, he doesn’t think…he feels it. Sometimes he thinks he sees the outline of something moving just beyond the bushes, and sometimes he thinks he sees the reflection of glowing eyes.

If he mentioned it to umma, and he might, she would probably tell him it’s just a deer. She would say pull the curtains closed, puppy…if it eases your mind. And that’s just what he does. After a few seconds of working up the courage, he jumps from under his cover and runs to the window, pulls the curtains closed, and then runs and jumps back into his warm bed.

“Better,” he whispers to himself, and just as he closes his eyes, the shatter of glass sends him back up. He sits and stares at his door and waits for another sound.

“You don’t listen!”

Stepfather is screaming, and that’s nothing new. The soft voice of his mother trickles in as she tells him to please keep his voice down, please don’t wake Seungmin.

“He doesn’t listen, either. He can hear this, too. I thought I got rid of these!”

Got rid of what? Seungmin thinks.

“He picked them out at the bookstore yesterday. He’s doing so well…he’s so smart.”

“Is he? I don’t see it.”

“He’s a good boy”

“Give them to me, all of them. And whatever else you spent my money on.”

Seungmin feels tears welling in his eyes, and he tries with everything he has to hold them back. He tries with everything he has to stay put and not run out there and stop him.

“We only bought groceries, and the books…nothing else”

“Don’t lie to me”

He hears a slap, and his mother makes another quiet sound…and his tears start to fall. “Umma, we’ll leave soon…you and me.”

It’s not as bad as you anticipated, but you still grip the hand he gave you. A few seconds of nothing, and then something appears on the screen. You don’t know what you’re looking at, though, because ultrasound images always confused you. It’s nothing but static, and a big black blob that you at least know is where something is supposed to be.

“Can you see?” She asks, and looks at you, and then she looks at Seungmin. “There…on the bottom left. I would say seven weeks, almost eight.” She moves the wand again, and you squeeze his hand a little harder. “Oh…just a moment. I’m sorry, dear.”

“What is it?” Seungmin moves closer, pushes his glasses up, and squints. He doesn’t know what he’s looking at, either.

The woman pushes a button on the machine, and you hear the strange, whooshing sound come through. You know what it is, just not from personal experience—a wild heartbeat. And the sound of an actual heart beating makes everything feel very real, very quickly.

She smiles at you with a little hesitancy, and then points at a new spot on the right side of the screen. “Number two is right here. And the first one is…here.”

“Two?"

“Dul?”

“Yes,” she nods, “ye…dul. You have twins, illanseong ssangdung-i.”

“Identical?” Seungmin stares, and he starts to crush your fingers until you shake him loose. “Sorry.”

“How do you know they’re identical? Are you sure there are two?”

“I’m sure, I have seen many many twins on here. We can check again at your next visit, and also let you know sex…if you want to know, in another four or five weeks.”

*

After hearing the second round of unexpected news, you get into bed and sleep for hours. It's the first time in a while you can remember having a completely dreamless sleep, but it doesn't seem the time for that. Right now, your head should be too full to stop.

The sun is mostly set when you finally make yourself get up, and the smell of food coming from the kitchen pulls you back out. You know

“Are you making dinner?”

“Hi, yes…did you sleep well?”

“I did. It smells so good in here.”

He lights up and grabs three bowls from the cupboard, “does it, really? I haven’t tried making kimchi jjigae in a very long time.” Seungmin fills two bowls with stew, and the third he piles high with rice. “I hope it tastes okay.”

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟗-𝟑𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟗

The familiar smell of his favorite stew wafts into his bedroom, and he’s on his way down the hall before his mother even calls for him.

“Come here, give me a hug,” she holds her arms open, and Seungmin hugs her tight around the waist. “You’re getting so tall, you’re not gonna be a little puppy much longer.”

“I can be a tall one,” he looks up and sees the bruise he left on her cheek.

“You’re right, you can…go sit, I’ll bring us both a bowl.”

“Where is he?”

It’s as if Seungmin summons him with his words. A moment later, he’s coming in through the side door, pulling off his wet raincoat, and getting out of his shoes. The worst sound in the world for Seungmin is hearing his stepfather return home. But tonight he doesn’t say a word. He walks through the kitchen and looks around blankly, makes himself a bowl of dinner, and disappears into another room. It’s not unusual for him.

“Good,” she sits down next to him, “just the two of us.”

The rain finally lets up tonight, and he can fall asleep easily—no sounds outside, no footsteps or strange feelings. Silence. And Seungmin sleeps perfectly until he opens his eyes to the clock by his bed…12:10 am. He stares at it until it turns to 12:11, and then 12:12. There are footsteps outside. Loud, muddy, and heavy. But not in front of his window—these are somewhere in the distance, maybe on the far side of the house. At 12:15, he finds enough courage to get up and peek through the slit in his curtain, but all he can see from here is darkness and the reflection of his pale face; the tops of pine trees against a blue-black sky, finally clear. He thinks he sees a shadow run by in the distance, but it’s just his imagination starting to run. It’s in my head, umma said it’s in my head…there’s nothing in the woods.

“Umma?”

He thinks he hears her calling him, but as soon as it’s quiet again, he’s convinced that was also in his mind. Still, he heads for the door and pulls it open just a crack to listen. Nobody is ever up this late except for him when he can’t sleep. A mumble, barely, reaching him through the thick, humid air.

“…you made me do this…”

Seungmin recognizes that voice, even from this far away.

“…I’ll have to do it again…that brat”

It’s impossible to get back into bed now. He needs to know what’s going on. The first thing he does after tiptoeing down the hallway is open their bedroom door, but it’s too dark to see anything. A few more steps in, and he can now tell that the bed is empty, the blankets are a mess.

“Umma…where are you?”

Seungmin heads toward the kitchen and looks around, knocks on the bathroom door. He reaches for his coat…he can hear the rain starting again, and pulls on his boots. The few lights on outside help his eyes just enough, and he catches movement in the shed a few yards away. Why is he in the shed so late at night? Umma wouldn’t be out here with him, Seungmin knows that…where are you? he thinks. He thinks it so loudly, and is body trembles with his unknown fear. Why aren’t you in bed? Why are you outside so late in the rain?

The muddy grass gives way to his boots, and he sinks in as he tries to walk...he slips, and a few times, stops to gather himself before moving again. The ground is more solid as he approaches the shed, and he can tell now that the one light shining out is the oil lamp that lives on the windowsill. It’s so bright coming out through the cracks, and the view looking in is clear. Seungmin’s eye finds the perfect spot to peer in and see what his stepfather is doing…

“Are you in here?” He whispers, unsure, but his voice shakes.

His stepfather looks back, and Seungmin freezes, but his breath comes out shallow and ragged and loud. “Out of bed? Of course you are.” The door swings open, and the hand that grabs his shirt collar is wet with mud, and something else.

“Umma!”

Seungmin is thrown hard against the wall, face first, and hits the floor with so much force, he feels a tooth chip. He sees blood on him, and he tastes what pours from his nose and lip, but he doesn’t care.

“Seungmin…run away from him”

He crawls to her, and stepfathers presence looms just like the creature in the woods, ready to snatch him back at any moment.

“We have to go,” Seungmin whispers and touches her hair, “please we have to go.”

“I love you so much, Seungmin…you have to run, you have to get away from him”

“I can’t leave you here”

“Please run…my sweet boy…”

“Umma I can’t leave you here”

“He’ll kill you, too.”

“We have to go”

“Please remember how much I love you.”

Everything goes black and quiet, and the last thing he sees is her pleading eyes.

But then, the sound of dirt. A shovel, hacking and digging. Seungmin squeezes his fingers just to see if he can, and he fills his fist with dirt and rock. The back of his head throbs, and the warm, itchy sting of blood in his hair and on his neck reminds him of where he is. A gasp for air, a cough, and he almost chokes on it as he turns to his side. Everything is a blur, but he blinks it away and finds something to focus on—a bright blue bucket, and next to it is a small plank of wood, maybe the thing that knocked him out.

The irritated grumbles of his stepfather mix with the shk shk of the shovel as he digs. How could he possibly turn and look at what’s happening behind him? Seungmin can figure out whats going on, and why he’s digging a hole. He can’t come face to face with it. He looks around again, and his eyes land on the assorted tools that have ended up in here over the years: pruners, old rusty garden shears his mother tried to throw out, rolls of chicken wire and razor wire, bags of grass seed and weed killer—things he and umma have no use for in the greenhouse. The hand tiller, though, that he recognizes, and he remembers holding this very tool in his hands several times before.

Sharp and straight on one end, three pointed claws on the other—it’s as long as his arm and it’s not very heavy, but…it’s heavy enough. As quietly and slowly as possible, he crawls the six or seven feet to where it hangs on a protruding nail, and as he wraps his fingers around the wooden handle, he peeks over his shoulder. His stepfathers back is to him, thankfully, hunched over and pushing dirt with his shovel, so Seungmin grips it and rolls himself to face him. Now, if he can stand without falling—without passing out…

You smile and wait for him to open his eyes again. He has his hands clasped tight in front of him, as if he’s praying. Maybe he is praying. A smile grows as he sits there silently, and he laughs at himself when his eyes pop open.

“I’m sorry, should I have joined in?”

“Oh, I was just…talking to myself for a moment. Sending something out.”

“Were you praying?”

“Sort of…no, not exactly”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain”

“This was the last thing she made for me, the last meal we had together.“

The stew looks very different when you look at it now. Seungmin looks different, because the wave of memories washing over him paralyze him for a moment. “Is this her recipe?”

“Yes. I have a few of her recipe cards in the drawer, but I can never make anything quite right.”

“Well, it’s very good, even if it’s not perfect. What was her name?”

“Soo-ji. Suji…or Susie. Her English name was Susie.”

“English name? Oh right, she lived in the states. Did she choose that? Do you have an English name?”

“Yes, she chose Susie. I have one, but I’ve never used it. I’ve never had to.”

“What is it?”

He smiles and drops his gaze to his food. “Sky. I’m not sure why I chose that, but…Sky.”

“I do”

Seungmin looks at you again, eyes wide, “yeah?” And his eyes grow even more as he waits. “Do I look like a sky?”

“You look like a sky. And everything in it.”

“Everything?”

“The sun, and the moon…the clouds, all the stars”

“Are you trying to make me blush?”

“The butterflies…the bees”

He cups his cheeks in his hands and laughs.

“Can’t grow the flowers without you”

A hitch in his breath makes your heart thump, and his hands cover the rest of his face. You can’t tell if it was another laugh, or something else.

“Seungmin?” He doesn’t answer, but you hear a sniffle, and you stand and move to his side of the table. “Hey…what’s the matter?” You’re more confident in your actions now, so grabbing his shoulders and pulling him against you happens without a second thought. “Did I say something?”

“No, sorry…I don’t know what happened”

“Was that too much? I’m too much sometimes.”

“No, please don’t think that”

He squeezes and pushes his face into you, and you feel his tears coming through the fabric of your shirt. Something triggered them, but he’s also long overdue for a lot of good cries. You don’t mind getting some out of him.

“Umma always told me that when we worked together in the greenhouse…I can’t grow the flowers without you, puppy.”

“She was right. My moonflowers seem pretty happy in the window. And...Puppy?”

Seungmin pulls away and sniffs, but he doesn’t look at you yet. He looks at the hanging basket in the kitchen window. It’s still small, but it grew even while it was left here on its own. “She loved giving me nicknames, but I was always puppy."

“Look at me,” you pinch his chin and guide his eyes up to yours. “Yeah, I saw that photo of you when you were seven, I think. You looked like a puppy then, and you still do.”

“What photo?”

“From the boxes in your closet. I found them when I was packing our stuff. I saw some baby photos.”

“Babies…” he whispers to himself. You spoke about it on the way home, and a little before you fell asleep, mostly his concern about you now carrying two instead of one. “What exactly makes them identical?”

The tech didn’t go into detail, and you can’t meet your doctor until Monday, so Seungmin has been left hanging on the finer points of the pregnancy so far.

“Identical twins are one fertilized egg, split in two. Always the same sex, or usually. They share one placenta…that’s why they weren’t separated in there, that's how she knew.”

“So two boys…or two girls. Our fertilized egg split in half? Like yin and yang…sort of. Yin is the moon, and Yang is the sun. Still opposite, not identical, I guess.”

“Like us. You’re the sun…just like what your flowers need, and you seem to have made me the moon.”

“Yeah..." He looks at your flowers again. "Tokki.”

“Sky”

His legs hold him up, and despite his throbbing, blood soaked head, he moves slowly toward the lamp light, the whole in the ground, and the hunched over shape of his stepfather. This is his only chance, and if he misses, or doesn’t do it well enough, that’s it…but it doesn’t matter. Seungmin doesn’t care if he dies, because she’s gone, and there’s nothing left for him. He’d be better off in the ground.

The hesitation as he grips the handle evaporates when he raises the tiller high above his head. One chance. He puts everything he has, every bit of anger and sadness and despair behind the single blow that finds the nape of his stepfathers neck. The sharp straight edge is even sharper than Seungmin thought, and it sinks in deep. The spatter of blood gets everywhere—in his eyes, his mouth, and he somehow yanks it right back out. Some supernatural strength moves through him, because he has to do this. Another swing, this time to his chest as he turns and falls to the ground.

“Y-you…” he sputters and coughs more blood. “…you ba…bast…”

Seungmin wonders if it's the shock, or if he cut something in his neck that finally shut him up. He can’t seem to get his words out. “Bastard?”

The tiller goes up, and then down one more time. And he doesn’t say another word. The shed is silent now, except for the rain, and the drip drip coming through the cracks in the roof. It takes everything he has in him to shift his eyes to the right—to the half filled hole right next to him, and when he finally does, the emptiness that washes over him brings him to his knees. What could possibly describe this? He doesn’t know. Seungmin doesn’t know the words, not in Korean or English. He can’t even cry. What he can do is gently step into the shallow grave and place his hands on her again, and he’s relieved to feel her warmth still, and the softness of her pale skin and hair.

“Umma, can you still hear me?” Seungmin knows she can’t. His mother is gone, and her last words come right back to him. “He’s gone now…he’s gone. He won’t hurt us anymore.”

And she can’t be here, in this shed, in this disgusting hole he made for her. He won’t let her rest here forever—not for another minute. Fortunately he didn’t get far covering her. Seungmin pushes the dirt away as best as he can, but he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough for this. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and hugs her against his chest, pulls again, and rests her limp body against the side as he climbs back out.

Carefully, very carefully, he holds her around the waist, rests her back against him, and lifts until all but her legs are up and out of her would-be grave. No shoes on her feet, and wearing nothing but her nightgown…his stepfather dragged her outside straight from the bed they shared and did this. What filled him with so much rage tonight? Seungmin wonders if it was something he did. But he doesn’t stop to wonder long. The empty grave can only be good for one thing now, so Seungmin pushes, and pushes, and it takes so much more strength than it did to lift her out. One more push, and he falls with a thud, and the tiller goes in with him.

He dug this shallow hole, so he can put it to use.

Now he finally stops to catch his breath, but the humid air is hard to suck into his lungs. He slows down, breaths through his nose, holds it in…lets it go the way his mother taught him when he started to feel overwhelmed and anxious. It doesn’t calm a single nerve in his body tonight, but he at least feels the oxygen move through his blood and into his muscles, and more importantly, into his brain. He finishes this first; shoves the dirt on him, and it feels like hours later when he’s satisfied with the job he’s done. It's not the best, but it's far more than he deserves.

“Now what, umma? I don’t know what to do.”

✦　 ˚ 　 ˖ ✶ ˚　　　✦　　　.　

The greenhouse? he thinks to himself. Did he think it, or did he hear it?

“I can take you to the greenhouse. Would that be alright?”

Yes. Where else but the greenhouse, with the flowers the two of them spent all spring and summer planting and watering and growing? Seungmin reaches for her, and he watches as his hand starts to tremble. It moves up his arm and his shoulders; his chest tightens, and his whole body shivers; his stomach spins, and he turns and crawls away to vomit, but nothing comes out. He dry heaves until his stomach finally settles, but now his head feels like it might explode.

Her nightgown is already covered in dirt, but he refuses to drag her through the mud, so he grabs a blanket from the house to help his trip down the yard. The view almost makes him sick again—the gentle sway of her feet as he pulls. But the wet ground makes it easier, and faster than he expected.

Everything he needs to dig a grave is right here. There’s a plot of loosened dirt right by the heliotrope, because that was tomorrow’s job, and Seungmin looks at it and wonders again…wonders if this is where umma is supposed to rest right now. He starts the long process of shoveling away at the dirt, and he has a feeling this will take him the rest of the night.

“What are you thinking about, Min?”

He jumps when he hears his name, and looks around like he’s forgotten where he is. “Thinking about? Oh, nothing…I just had to shut off for a second.”

“I know something is going on in there. You don’t have to, but you can tell me.”

Seungmin’s face speaks louder than he ever can. He’s still no good at hiding it.

“Just remembering things. I wish my head would listen to me when I ask it to forget.”

“That would be nice, yeah. Maybe I can help take your mind off of it.”

A month flew by while you adjusted, both of you, to the news that two babies, not one, will be brought into this strange home. You spent a great deal of it in bed—tired, nauseated, and a mood that didn’t know whether to go up or down. Usually up and down multiple times in one day, which Seungmin had a difficult time with. He was used to the balance you brought him, and now it’s been taken away by this pregnancy.

But still, he handled it well by the end of the first week or so, and he eventually turned into what you were for him. He cooked, or he ordered the closest he could find to homemade Korean food. Seungmin made sure you took all of your vitamins, and he let you see him take his medication every day again. The four weeks on his haldol is the longest he’s managed to keep up with it, and he thinks he’s finally gotten used to it. Whether or not it’s helping is still up in the air.

“Take my mind off of it? You must be feeling better.”

“I am…but you’re not getting that. My appointments tomorrow, remember?”

“Right. We get to see them again.”

“We get to see if there are actually two in there”

“And if they’re boys or girls”

“Do you wanna know already, if they can tell?”

Seungmin assumed you wanted to know as much as he did, and as soon as possible, “you don’t?” But maybe not. “I guess I do, yeah.”

“It feels so early. So much can still go wrong.”

His eyes drop to your stomach, and he resists the urge to reach out and set his hand there. “Nothing will go wrong, everything will be okay. The first twelve weeks are the hardest, right?”

“You’ve been doing your research”

“There’s a bookstore right by the market I went to this morning. I bought one,” he grabs one of the bags from the counter and digs around inside. “I bought a couple, actually.” He hands you the first one…

“Taegyo.” You flip through it, but it’s small, and in Korean.

“I’ll read that one to you—to the three of you.”

The next one looks like a regular book on pregnancy, the kind you’ve seen a million times before on bookstore and library shelves.

“I read some of that one already.” The last one he pulls out is the biggest.

“Baby names…”

“And their meanings. Am I getting ahead of myself? I am, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. I know you’ve been holding it in, Minnie. You don’t have to keep hiding it.”

“Hiding what?”

“Your excitement. Your joy. If you’re tiptoeing around it because I told you I didn’t want to be pregnant before, I want you to stop.”

Seungmin takes the baby name book and holds it to his chest, and he seems a little lost for words. “Okay…”

“I kind of knew you wanted this from the moment you found out about the first test. And I’ve already read up a little on Taegyo, so don’t hold back…let them know, too.”

He nods, and a smile creeps across his face. The hesitation is still there as he reaches his hand out to you, but he does. Nothing is happening in there yet, but his smile grows even wider as his fingers spread out, and his palm slides up, and then back down across your belly button.

“We’ll find out tomorrow, if they can see on the ultrasound”

“I should start cleaning out the spare bedroom”

“We have a spare bedroom?”

***

Seungmin can’t hide his nerves this time. He paces back and forth in the tiny room, stopping every few laps to look at you and sigh. “Twenty minutes?”

“It’s barely been fifteen. Are you alright, did you get any sleep last night?”

He shakes his head and sits, finally. “Not much. My dreams always feel real, but last night was…scary. I couldn’t get out. I think I had, uhm, I couldn’t move...”

“Sleep paralysis?”

“Yeah, I haven’t had that in a while…at least not that bad. I was stuck, but I could open my eyes, so I saw you sleeping next to me. That helped.”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind. Maybe you should take something tonight.”

A knock on the door interrupts, and it’s the same woman from your first ultrasound. “Good morning,” she smiles sweetly at you, and then to Seungmin, who has kept up the husband act since Daegu.

He took the little silver ring from his music box, the one you can only assume belonged to his mother, and tried it out on you while you were still half asleep. It fit nicely, and even though you told him it seemed too special for you to wear, he said it was just for today, for fun—just to play the part.

So now you spin it absently as you watch her set up her equipment. And Seungmin is nervous again as your shirt is lifted, and the blanket covering your hips is pulled down.

“Are you ready to see your twins?”

The image appears quickly, but takes a moment to look like anything recognizable to either of you. But then it starts making sense…

“There they are, very cozy together”

“Oh, I can see them, they look like…like babies.” Seungmin leans closer and squints, because he forgot his glasses this morning.

“They are giving us a good view,” you say, “it’s doesn’t look creepy like ultrasounds usually do.”

“And I can take a good guess at sex if you’re ready for that”

“Uh, yes but…” Seungmin looks at you, and you shake your head. “Just me. Can you tell just me?”

“Mom isn’t ready? No problem, I’ll write it down for you, and we’ll keep it between us for now.”

She pulls a notepad out and scribbles onto it, rips it out, folds it, and hands it to him. You wait to see if he’ll look now, or later, but he truly can’t wait. He unfolds it, still careful not to let you see her messy hangul, and his face lights up as he stares at it. Seungmin hasn’t mentioned preferring a son or a daughter—sons or daughters—but you imagine his face looking the same regardless of what’s written on that paper. This is something he needed for it to feel real.

The sun hasn’t started rising yet, but somehow, he did what he needed to do. He finished.

The ground here is soft, and it’s fertile—this dirt has overheard some of the most important talks he had with umma, and it’s heard them both sing. This greenhouse, and the flowers inside have known only love and warmth and happiness.

Seungmin stares into her grave, and then to her.

The second blanket he brought with him is set neatly inside, and with what little strength remains in him, he moves her closer. Gently...a little clumsily, he lays her on top of it.

“Sorry umma, I’m so tired,” he sighs, and feels tears running down his dirt covered cheeks.

Now Seungmin takes his time picking a little bit of everything in bloom. An iris that finally opened. Japanese Kerria, goldenbell, mugunghwa, zinnia. The last flower he places with her is two loose bundles of heliotrope. The blanket corners are pulled across her, tucking the flowers in and keeping them safe as he kneels at the edge and thinks.

“The sun will start rising soon, and I don’t know what I’ll do,” he says to her. “What can I do?”

Seungmin waits for an answer, but nothing comes.

“I think I made things worse. Did I?”

no

“huh...is that you?”

you had to save yourself

“I should have been able to save you”

you couldn’t…you weren’t supposed to…but you’re alive so I am too

“I can’t finish”

this will be the hardest thing you have to do, I promise…just one step at a time

Seungmin stands on shaky legs and grabs the shovel again. One step at a time, he thinks. “Hana…” he starts, and grabs a pile of soft dirt and drops it carefully. “Dul…set…”

aheunnes…aheundaseos

He drops to his knees and pushes the rest with his hands, pats it down, smoothes it out. But he leaves a few spots loose, and the freshly potted heliotrope is pulled out and placed there.

“Please don’t leave me”

I won’t puppy…I’ll always be next to you

The quarter moon still shines on him over the treetops as he makes his way further down the yard. He keeps going—beyond the makeshift trail and into the pine trees, and he walks until his legs can’t carry him any longer. The clearing he comes to looks familiar, but it’s not the same one he was left in—that would take him until sunrise to reach. This one should be fine, though. He finds a spot in the center and sits, and he waits.

“I’ve lived here for almost four months…why didn’t I know you had a second bedroom?”

“I guess you weren’t looking for it.” Seungmin grabs either side of the emptied bookshelf and lifts. “And I closed it up after I moved in to keep myself out.”

“You banned yourself from your spare bedroom?”

He’s quiet as he turns and sets it against the wall, and again, he pulls out a key. Seungmin has at least a dozen different keys for even more locks, but he doesn’t seem to have them organized or marked—he just knows what goes where. This one is the only skeleton key, though. He slides it in, and opens the door with some caution…and it’s not at all what you expect. The room is filled with light coming in through the sheer curtains, and it’s not a mess of unwanted things. It’s a neatly organized room of maybe unwanted things.

“Yes. More memories. Things I took from the old house and couldn’t get rid of. Things that were left to me, things that were already here when I moved in.”

“So you locked them away…”

“I finally have a reason to clean it out, I just don’t know how easy it’ll be”

Boxes and boxes lined up against one wall. A small bed, a desk with a few things scattered on top. There are more books in here, too, and records and cassettes and cds. You think back to the drive home when you opened the center console of the Supra, and it was lined end to end with cassettes. All of these must have belonged to his dad, too.

“Both of them are in here?”

“Mostly dad’s stuff…but yeah, they’re both in here”

“Maybe we can go through it, and you can decide what you want to hold onto. Unless you’d rather do it alone…”

“No, we can do it together”

The first box you go for, the very top one closest to the window, gives off a subtly sweet aroma when you lift the lid. This is very obviously more of his mother’s belongings, and even though he wants you to do this with him, it still feels like an intrusion. But Seungmin probably knows where everything is in here, and when you stop to look at him, he just smiles.

“I can smell it...there’s perfume in there, half of a bottle,” he says.

“It smells nice.” There’s also a wooden comb and a brush, a hand mirror, and a few silk-looking scarves. All very personal, and all create a very close connection to her…but none of it compares to her scent, and you don’t think that’s something he should part with. “You should keep this. The perfume, at least.”

“I should, but I don’t know where I would keep it”

“I can clean up the living room closet, there’s so much space in there. We can make a spot for what you decide to keep.”

“I’ll have to put the suitcases and the plastic somewhere…the other disposal stuff”

“Uhm, we seem to have a lot of things and not many places to put them even though the apartment is big…oh, you have empty apartments!” At least you think he does. He mentioned how many were occupied before, but not how many were actually in the building.

“I do. I have thirteen empty apartments.”

It’s now occurring to you how rarely you see the comings and goings of his tenants, but you don’t leave often, and since coming back home, you’ve gone out even less. You’ve been sleeping any chance you can get. “Any on this floor?”

“Yeah, we’re alone up here. And directly below us is vacant, too.”

You have more space than you could ever need. “That explains why you’re so loud sometimes.”

He gives you his usual nervous laugh and opens another box. Seungmin still gets shy, and you’re starting to think he’ll be that way forever, but he has opened up a little more for the twins. The Taegyo book he gave you came in handy for him, and he’s been doing his best to stay on track with his medication, and to keep his mind somewhere safe. Every night in bed, he lies awake with you and talks to them. He doesn’t say much, because you don’t think he knows what to say.

But you don’t expect him to be perfect, and you don’t want him to be. You never had any intention of changing him, but if he does it on his own, you won’t stop him.

“Not lately,” he laughs again.

“It’s nice knowing we’re alone up here, though.” You walk over to the box he’s digging in, and this one is full of baseball cards, a glove, and a handful of ticket stubs.

“It is. Maybe I should lower the rent and fill those other apartments up. Dad probably never had vacancies.”

“Were you born here? I mean, did you live in this apartment when you were a baby?”

“Yeah, but we were on the third floor until her and I moved away with…him”

It seems like a complicated series of events, but you still don’t want to pry too much. You don’t want to ask why she remarried and moved away, and why they didn’t stay here. But Seungmin tells you anyway.

“She got the property, but he came along, and I assume he charmed and manipulated her, and they got married. She wanted to remarry, I know that much…I guess for my sake. It just happened to be to the worst person imaginable.”

“He moved you away?”

“Yeah, and hoarded all of the money she made from the building. When she died, it became mine, but I was too young. I got everything when I turned eighteen—the hoarded money, the property, and all of my dad’s things that got locked away in that third floor apartment.”

“And you’ve been here ever since”

Seungmin closes his eyes and nods, and when he opens them again, you can feel more trying to claw its way out; more secrets, more burdens, more things he hasn’t had a chance to say out loud. “Yeah, just going through the motions. Trying to get through the days and put them behind me.”

“I wonder where I’d be if I hadn’t run into you that morning”

“Somewhere safe and happy, I hope”

“Or if you hadn’t come back to find me, because I had no intention of testing you again even though I really wanted to see you.”

He searches your face as he moves closer to your spot on the floor. “Testing me?”

You’ve made yourself comfortable under the window, knees tucked up and arms pulled into your sweater. This room is much cooler, and the air is probably coming in right above you. “Trying to get you back…and being pushed away again."

“You scared me”

“Me? I scared you?”

“Yes. Everything about you…from the moment you looked up at me and said yes, thank you.”

“Why?”

He sits, rests his head on your shoulder and thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure. I knew I had a job to follow through with…” It’s been a while since either of you have reflected on your first meeting, and his intention to kill you. “And I kept thinking about that the whole time you let me keep you company.”

“When you left, I was a little upset because I thought you were gonna try something…but you were good. And then, naturally, I got nervous and ran from our date. Guess it’s a good thing nothing happened either time."

“I’m not sure I ever had any desire to kill you. I kept telling myself I did, but I didn’t do a single thing I typically would to get myself there.“ His hold on you tightens, and you start to feel warm again. “I pushed you away because I was afraid of feeling the way I do now.”

“Are you still afraid?”

“Sometimes. I don’t get to keep things I love for very long.”

“Okay…no foreshadowing, I promise. We’re not going anywhere. You’re going to have three people to love, and to love you back. And you’ll have enough for all of us.”

Seungmin waits, and waits. The moon starts to disappear from the cracks in the trees, and the little bit of light it seemed to scatter through the clouds disappears. It’s truly dark now, because there’s no sunrise coming for Seungmin yet. He hopes it never comes. If the sun stays asleep and the moon remains, he’ll never have to face a single day without her—he’ll never have the face the consequences of his actions. But he suspects he’s not that lucky, so he waits, and he lets out a long, monotone whistle.

A deep breath in, and another long whistle, and then he’s quiet again. A few moments pass, but eventually, he starts to hear the sound of footsteps crunching on the forest floor that managed to stay dry under the trees. Slow, heavy footsteps. Deep, shaking breaths. He can’t look, but he knows it’s there…Seungmin has felt it before, and he’s smelled it from his open bedroom window.

A snort makes him jump, and he mistakenly raises his head to look. All that’s visible is shadow, but it moves easily through trees.

“I’m here,” Seungmin says loudly, but his voice trembles. “You remember me.” A glimpse of eyes, just an amber colored streak moving and ducking behind a tree. “I’m ready to go…please.”

It answers with another snort, another crunch of slow footsteps, but it doesn’t show itself.

“Please!”

Something else is here—behind him, beside him. It’s steps lightly and quickly, and he sees it, a black cloud bouncing and moving like air. And then he sees another…a white whisp of a cloud, and this one is more visible as it darts past the trees. The white one gets closer as it circles him, and the black one follows far behind. He opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a whimper. His head swims, and his stomach turns, and before he hits the ground, Seungmin sees a set of blue eyes staring him down.

* * *

The bed shakes, and you’re out of your sleep immediately. The sour feeling in your stomach hits fast, but you hold it down when you see Seungmin’s face—his forehead drips with sweat, his jaw and fists are clenched tight enough to break.

“Minnie?” You touch his forehead, and he’s cold. “Minnie, can you hear me?”

He groans, his face relaxes, and he starts to cry.

“Seungmin, please…wake up”

Please take me…I’m alone…I’m all alone now

“You’re not alone”

I have nothing left here

“Minnie, I know you’ll hear me soon. You’ll hear me over whatever is going on in there.”

I’m too scared to do it myself

You don’t remember him ever speaking so clearly in his sleep before, and you don’t like what he seems to be saying. “Seungmin, wake up.”

Finally, he’s out of it, but now he looks like he’s heading straight into a panic attack. He bolts up and struggles to catch his breath, looks around frantically in the dark room. Before you say another word, you’re up and around the bed, clicking the light on, digging in his drawer for his bottle of Xanax.

“Minnie, hey it’s okay…take this.” You hand him his glass of water and hold the pill in front of him. “Look at me.”

He listens. You see his eyes move up and connect with yours, but he’s frozen and shivering as he parts his lips for you.

“Everything’s okay, you’re safe”

Seungmin is silent as he sips his water and slowly catches his breath, and he doesn’t move when you climb across him and crawl back under the covers. He pulls his sweat-damp shirt over his head and throws it to the floor. “Can I sleep over there?” He asks as he works his way over. “God, I sweat through everything.”

“Come here. You’re so cold, get back under the covers.”

“Those dogs”

“Dogs?”

“They weren’t there, in the woods. I’ve never seen them before.”

“In your dreams?”

Seungmin has had many dreams since you’ve been here next to him, and they’ve been bad. Most have been manageable, some have been terrifying, but none have made him wake up like this before. “It felt so real. I’m afraid I’ll go back if I fall asleep again.” He sits up and rubs his face. The medicine will relax him soon, and hopefully help him fall into a dreamless sleep for a few more hours.

“Does that usually happen?”

Everything about his dream, except for the very end, was a memory—the thing he’s afraid to tell you. Now doesn’t seem the time or the place, but as he lies here and thinks, he wonders if a time and a place for that story will ever exist. “No, but I don’t usually dream about that part…and it wasn’t off, like the dreams usually are. Everything seemed accurate, right down to the things we said to each other.”

“You and…your mom?”

“Yeah. And the dogs, I don’t know where they came from, or if they were helping or coming after me.”

“Was there a big white one?”

“A white one, and a black one. I’ve seen the black one before, just not in my dream.”

“Recently?”

“No, it was the day I found out about your negative test. It lead me to where the box was…ah, how did I forget about that?” He looks at you, expecting the same moment of clarity that he’s having, but you just stare back, a little lost. “I saw the dog in living room, and I followed it to the cabinet where the trash was.”

“You think your hallucination lead you to the test?”

“You don’t?”

“It’s possible, I guess. It’s not much weirder than us sharing dreams.”

“What are they, though?” He says it out loud, but he seems to be asking only himself. “Where did they come from?”

“Dreams can be so strange.” You can feel yourself dozing off, but you don’t want to sleep until he’s comfortable and his eyes are closed.

“Our dreams are very strange”

*

The body that was tucked up against you is gone. No more arms wrapped tight around your waist, no more warm breath against your chest. You woke up twice to Seungmin sleeping soundly with you, but now, the third time, he’s gone. He hasn’t returned to his side of the bed, and the curtain is still pulled halfway closed, just like it was last night. It’s quiet…no sounds of him in the shower, or in the kitchen, and there’s no smell of coffee brewing.

This isn’t a great way to wake up.

“Seungmin?” You call out as loudly as your morning voice will allow you, but your head pounds when you do, and the pain makes you nauseous. Still, you manage to get on two feet and head for the door. “Seungmin?”

The kitchen is empty, but the bathroom door is cracked. You decide to give it another minute before calling out for him again, because he’s in there. His keys are on the table, jacket is hanging by the door, and his two regular pairs of shoes are right next to yours.

You start making him coffee, but by the time it’s mostly finished brewing, you start to hate the quiet.

“Minnie, are you in there?” Your fingertips set against the door, but your push is hesitant. The strong herbal smell of his bath salts hit you from here. “I’m gonna come in.”

A soft okay reaches your ears as you push the door open, and you sigh when you see him there, submersed in the tub. The water is all the way up to his chin, and his eyes stay closed as you approach him.

“You’ve been in here for a while,” you kneel down and rest your arms on the bathtub. “You okay?”

“I think so”

You take his word for it, but his blank stare tells you he’s probably not completely okay. The nightmare might still be in his mind, or maybe the nightmare pushed even more to the surface—something his medication can’t keep down. “We’ll have some breakfast, and if you wanna talk about anything…” maybe it’s something else entirely.

“I’m not very hungry”

“Okay,” you start to reach out for him, but stop yourself. If he reaches back, the pain in your chest might let up…you don’t want to go back to his silence right now, but you might have to. You’ll wait for him to push through it. “Coffee? I’ll get you towel.”

“I was okay, I’m sorry”

“And you’ll be okay again, we just have to get through it”

“It stayed away for a while. We really kept our minds occupied…that was nice,” he forces a smile.

“But it can’t stay away forever.” Seungmin looks at you, almost questioningly, as you finally reach out and run a hand across his forehead. “And I want you to feel better. I’ll do anything I can to help.”

“Anything?”

“Anything”

*

Seungmin holds his pill in the palm of his hand and stares at it. He’s been so good—so consistent. Every single morning since finding out the twins were still there and still okay, he’s been even more adamant about doing what he can to be okay for them. Up until today, it’s worked. Last nights dream might be partially to blame, but he knows he’s overdue, and he feels like he’s doing something wrong.

He watches you head toward the bedroom, wrapped up and shivering in two towels. “Do you think I can be fixed?”

“Fixed?” You poke your head back out and study him. “Do you feel like you need fixed?”

“I’m not sure. But I wonder sometimes if they’re doomed to be like me, no matter what.”

The fear you had swirling inside of you before, the feeling that still comes back sometimes, seems to have crept into his thoughts. You were never afraid of having a child that ended up with an illness like him, though, that never once crossed your mind…but now that his need to kill has returned, he’s stuck in that part of his head. And though he hasn’t actually said anything about their sex, you're beginning to have a feeling in your gut.

“Seungmin, are we…?” You start, but you still don't think you want to know for sure.

“What?” His eyes soften as he searches yours.

“Nothing, never mind.” It’s been two weeks since that doctor’s visit, and he hasn’t said a word about it. He hasn’t dropped any sort of hint, or let anything slip. During a few talkative nights, you wondered if he would mumble something in his sleep. But he hasn’t yet. “They’re gonna be as sweet, and as caring, and as thoughtful as you are to me.”

Seungmin slowly shakes his head. “I hope so. Right now, I really…really need to—” his eyes drop to your stomach, “I need to clear my head again.”

“Should I leave?”

“No, I want you to stay. If you want.”

“Are you coming back with them, if you find someone?” You think about how messy it was the first time you were here, and how out of control everything was. But you do want to stay, because your mind is also on the last time…his knife in your hand, the way he looked at you and touched you after the girl hit the floor. “I’d rather stay, but I can’t listen—“

Seungmin takes your face in his hands, and his smile is uncertain. “No, I don’t want you to hear that. I want you to help me, if you want…uhm…”

“Help?”

“But I understand if you don’t want to”

Your heart pounds. The look he’s giving you is a strange mix of shy, and a little bit of that Seungmin who made you a drink and carried you into his bedroom. “Help you kill?”

“Or just watch. I don't need the sex.”

“Minnie”

“It’s too much, I know…I don’t know why I’m asking. You shouldn’t be seeing that…after what I just…after just telling you I’m worried about how they’ll end up. Fuck, no…I’ll go.”

“Minnie, wait”

“You can stay if you’re comfortable. Maybe in the bathroom, or the nursery.” The nursery that’s still just a gutted room with a twin bed. Going through things and cleaning took much longer than anticipated. “Taegyo seems a little pointless now, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not, they still need to hear you talk to them every night. They need you to feel better.”

There’s still a look of reluctance and confusion on him, and instead of heading for the door, he paces back and forth and thinks. But he stops suddenly and stares off toward the open door of the nursery.

“What’s wrong?”

He takes a few slow steps in the direction he’s looking, and then shuts his eyes tight. “It’s there…it came out of the room. The black one.” He starts walking toward whatever he’s seeing and ends up back in the bedroom, and you follow. “It went under the bed.”

You watch him drop to his knees and look, but if there’s something black under there, he won’t see much of it. Your curiosity gets the better of you, so you do the same on your side of the bed—drop to your hands and knees and look. “I don’t…”

“What?”

Something glimmers despite the lack of light…something silvery blue. You push yourself under and reach toward it, but it moves. “What the hell?” It disappears, and then reappears, and you hear it. That growl. The same deep growl from your nightmare. It lunges forward and all you see is a streak of white fur and teeth as you pull yourself back and crawl away. You hold back a cry, but as soon as Seungmin sees your face, he’s on his knees in front of you.

“What happened?” His voice shakes. “You saw it?”

“I dunno,” you pant and try not to catch sight of anymore shining eyes, so you look at him instead. “Seungmin, I think I’m seeing things.”

Seeing things, hearing them, feeling their strange presence.

Whatever was under there is gone when Seungmin shines a flashlight into the darkness. It’s empty. No lost clothes or forgotten boxes, nothing that could have picked up and reflected the little bit of light in the room.

“Are you gonna tell me what you saw under there.” Seungmin stands in front of two cups and watches the almond blossoms bloom in the hot water.

“It was a dog, a white one, and it growled and snapped at me”

“Have you seen it before?”

“Only in a dream, but in the dream I thought the dog was you…trying to kill me”

That dream, he thinks to himself—the one you couldn’t explain to him that morning, and it’s been forgotten ever since. “The white dog was me?” The white dog that tried to kill you, that stood over him in his dream last night. The one that tried to bite. But where did the black one disappear to?

“Yes, in the woods. And then in the shed, but I woke up in the middle of it attacking me. You woke me up.”

“It’s a big dog, right? Obviously we’re seeing the same one, and I saw them both together, but maybe it’s just one.”

“Big, but skinny and tall…like a greyhound, but not.” You get up and head back to the bedroom, and carefully walk by the bed, making sure to give the edge of it a wide berth. Nothing makes a sound or shows itself, and you return to him, phone in hand. “Long-haired greyhound? I dunno what I’m searching for, I’m sure Google can figure it out.” You scroll and click a few times, and then show him the image pulled up on your phone. “Is this your black dog?”

Seungmin’s eyes grow as he looks at it, “yes that’s exactly what he looks like…and they both look exactly the same.”

“They look so sweet in these photos, but my white one isn’t sweet at all.” My? The white one does seem to be yours, because you haven’t seen his black dog. At least not yet. “But dwelling on it isn’t gonna help.”

“No, and I’m sure I’ll see them again”

“We should get back to our earlier conversation”

He forgot about his request. Seungmin isn’t sure why he thinks you’d want to have anything to do with this, but you did intentionally put yourself front and center for his last kill. “Can we forget about it? I didn’t know I was gonna ask you that until it came out of my mouth.”

“No, we don’t have to forget. At least let me answer.”

He’s expecting an explanation for your no, because you’re good at putting your thoughts into words for him. At least he knows you’ll be gentle. Seungmin has found out, thanks to you, how terrible he is at accepting criticism and being told what he doesn’t want to hear. You’ve been honest with him when it was necessary, and it’s been difficult, but he’s getting better…he thinks.

“I would love to watch you”

*

Seungmin heads out, and you stay home. He said he would keep you updated on his timeline if he could, but you decide to just expect him at any moment. And the plan is pretty scarce, but probably enough for him, and this time you’ll just have to trust he’s truly back on his game.

“Phone…I won’t forget the phone this time. Or the cameras. I’ll text you when I’m turning them back on so you know I’m in the building.”

But you’re terrified. Your heart hasn’t stopped racing since he left. He could be an hour, or he could be five hours, so how do you wait and pass the time? How do you prep? You’ve been avoiding going into the bedroom while you’re alone here, but you have to at least go in there and clean up. The sheets are still a mess, and there’s a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. There’s a pile of clean laundry in another corner—neither of you ever let it get this messy, but you’ve been focused on making space for two babies, and now, standing here thinking of that…maybe it’s too soon. You’re fourteenweeks in. Almost four months. Okay, maybe it’s not too soon. You were expecting this to drag, but since finding out, time has passed by far more quickly than it ever has.

Okay…just fix the damn sheets, there’s nothing under there. You walk quietly and start to pull at the spots where it’s the messiest…listen carefully as you tuck, fluff the pillows, set Daengmo right on top. Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see a flash of white, but there’s nothing there when you scan the room.

Daengmo gives you a look, or he seems to, so you change your mind and take him back to the kitchen with you.

This place is too quiet without him, you think, but Seungmin himself is quiet. It isn’t just the sound…it feels quiet without him, because his presence alone can be overwhelming. He’s still so intense and serious sometimes, but he turns it off when he needs to—when he keeps you awake a little longer talking to you and the twins, or when he wakes you up with the sounds of his guitar. He finally sang for you a few mornings ago.

*

When you open your eyes to see him, he's turned away, and he avoids looking at you until he finishes his song.

“What song was that? Was it yours?

Seungmin spins in his chair and carefully returns the guitar to its stand. “Not mine, no. It’s called ‘through the night’.

“Through the night,” you say under your breath, making sure to remember the title. “Thank you.”

“For singing?”

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding that voice from me all this time”

He starts toward you and smiles, and you can still see some diffidence behind it as he slides back under the covers. “Sorry,” he gets close, and he closes his eyes as if he plans on going right back to bed. So you do, too.

*

Until this moment, you forgot about the name of the song. “Through the night,” you say out loud and head for your laptop. But he never said the original artist—it doesn’t matter, you’ll know it when you hear it. Before you get a chance to type it in the search bar, your phone buzzes. “Minnie…that was fast.” At first you assume it’s something else, not him, because it’s barely been two hours, but it is him…

in the elevator

Your heart jumps to your throat, and you wonder if you can really do this. The want is there, and the need, there’s no question about that. And this will be easier than last time, you think. Right? Just watching him.

“Just watching,” you reaffirm yourself and shut the laptop, hide anything that looks like someone else lives here, and shut yourself in the nursery. The door on this room is much older, and very lucky for you, there’s a keyhole to peek out of. You kneel down and focus right as the lock clicks, and in walks Seungmin. “Who did you find?” you whisper against the door as she finally walks in behind him. “Oh.”

He speaks, she speaks—your Korean comprehension is still bad, despite the classes, and despite Seungmin patiently helping every way he can. He only speaks directly to the twins in Korean, but he translates everything for you, so they always get both. Seungmin speaks again, and you can’t help but notice him looking around the room. If your presence makes him nervous, he could slip up somehow. But this was your idea, Minnie…you’ll be fine.

She touches him, and your stomach starts to turn sour. A hand runs up his side and pulls at his shirt, and that peak of his skin already has you seeing red, but you breath deep and remember that you’re his other half in this. Seungmin belongs to you, and this is the last thing this girl will ever do.

But what happens next? He told you there would be no sex, but he still has to set things up the way he’s accustomed to, or at least close to it. How far will he have to go to get her where he wants her?

Her hand cups his dick, and her face falls. When she speaks again, you know what she says without understanding a word—not hard for me? No. No cock growing in his jeans for her. Seungmin is still soft, and he’ll probably stay that way. And he plays it off well, feigning shyness, smiling and hiding his face. It still makes you jealous, act or no act, because he's so good at this. She takes Seungmin by the hand and looks around, but she starts toward your door first, and you move your eye from the keyhole until you hear her being redirected. As soon as you look again, you catch his gaze lingering right where you are.

The bedroom door opens, and then shuts, but you hear the doorknob turn lightly and the latch click free. Now you can easily slide in without making a sound, lock the door, and watch.

The girl is too distracted by Seungmin's shirt being pulled over his head; slipping into the bedroom and carefully closing the door goes completely unheard, and the slide of the key does, too. Had she been facing you, things might be hectic right now, but you trusted him to keep her where you both needed her. The room is perfectly dark, lit up only by the string lights you put around the bookcase. It's just enough, and when your eyes start to adjust, you can see much more of him outlined by it, and you see his eyes move to you and smile sweetly. Somehow, she doesn't notice him looking at something other than her.

Her hands go for the button of his jeans, but he stops her. You can see the gears turning in his head as he wonders what his next move is going to be. She speaks, and you can see that he's annoyed.

"Turn around..." Seungmin grabs her wrists and holds them tight as she spins to face you.

"Huh...quit messing arou—"

The air catches in your throat when she sees you, but you do everything in your power to keep your composure. Looking nervous will do nothing to help him right now.

"What's going on, what is this? I didn't come here for a threesome."

"Shut up." Seungmin switches to English, and to your surprise, she does, too.

"Let go of me, I'm over this...get your hands off of me you psycho"

You assumed you'd be out of her view the entire time or at least most of it, but that's not the case. And then his hands start to loosen, she pulls away from him and heads for the door...now you wonder what exactly he has planned. Just as you open your mouth to get his attention, she pulls on the doorknob and screams...

"Open this fucking door!"

Seungmin walks toward her, and she runs to the far side of the room, away from him and away from you, and when she backs herself against the bookcase, everything starts moving in slow motion—her hands grope along the shelf for something...anything. The first thing she grabs is the glass vase of withered heliotrope, and she smashes it hard against the floor. The sound is unbelievably loud, but there's still a piece of glass large enough for her to use as a makeshift weapon.

"Let me out of this room," she holds it nervously, and her free hand goes back to the shelf. "Unlock the door."

Despite the drama, your mind goes back to you. Your night here with him, and how you ran to the door and fell to your knees in defeat, but you come back quickly when her hand finds the music box.

"Stop," Seungmin throws his hands up, "enough."

This is not going well, but he can still turn things around. Not soon enough, though. She drops the shard of glass, takes the music box in both hands, and uses all of her strength to smash it against the wet floor. You can't see anything from where you stand, but you hear it—the painful splinter of wood, and the sweet, lonely melody of it's insides filling the room.

Seungmin lunges for her so quickly and so quietly. He's terrifying. His hands close around her throat and drag her back toward the bed with little effort, and when he throws her on it, she stays there.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry, please"

He straddles her hips, and she's frozen in terror as his hands close around her throat again, and then he looks at you. A few steps toward the bed bring a smile to his face, so you take a few more, and the desire to touch him makes your whole body tremble. The muscles of his back move as he breathes, and veins start to pop in his arms as his grip tightens. You hardly notice her, even as she gasps for air and scratches at his arms, because Seungmin is all you ever see.

"Are you okay?" He asks, and you can see sadness behind his smile. Maybe a lament for his music box.

"Only if you are." You walk behind him and give in to your urges. One hands runs across the small of his back and up his spine, and you hear him groan as he squeezes tighter.

"I am"

From here you have the perfect view of both of them, so you watch quietly and keep your hands off as he continues...as he squeezes, and you hear her last desperate gasps...as he finishes. There's no more movement from her, and you can see it in her eyes, just like the one you took the life from—emptiness. His hands loosen, fingers flex, and he straightens his back as he starts to rise. You're silent as he watches the body for a few more moments, and then he turns to you.

Seungmin is looking through you again, inside of you and outside of you; reading your mind, and looking for an answer to the same question he asked before.

“I’m good”

The state of the room—the broken glass, the splintered music box, the dead body—it’s all pushed away with his soft touch and the scent of his adrenaline filled sweat. His arms slide around your shoulders and pull you tight against his bare chest.

“I’m sorry, that was a mess”

“No,” you push back and look at him. “Some things didn’t go how we wanted them to," you look to the body, and then toward the mess on the floor, "but…no, baby.” Seungmin lets you pull him to the door, and he doesn’t say a word as you unlock it and put the dead girl out of sight.

“I was never this clumsy before, I really wasn’t. I fucked up sometimes, but this…”

The sun is just starting to set outside, and the light hits just right on the couch where you’re leading him. Even as you set him down and look at him, he looks up at you with so much defeat in his eyes. Seungmin is supposed to feel better after a kill, and maybe he will soon, but right now he’s nowhere near okay.

“This was also your first time with someone watching you. Please, be a little easier on yourself.”

He sighs and falls back against the couch. “No, I don’t—" he looks to his right and sees Daengmo slumped against the pillow, “I can’t.“

This might take him a little longer to get through. You kneel in front of him and place a kiss on his knee. “You’ll get there, but in the meantime, I’ll do it for you.”

Even as your hand moves up his thigh, Seungmin’s face remains the same, but he lets you touch him. He lets you unbutton and pull gently until you can see his bare thighs, and now when you look at him, a smile is trying its best to break through. It doesn’t quite make it, but as you climb up and straddle him, he doesn’t hesitate to lift your dress and pull your panties down and out of his way.

“You did so well”

He shakes his head as you take his slowly growing cock in your hand.

“Don’t shake your head. Look at me, right now.”

There’s a bit of surprise in his hm?, but still no smile. He does, however, look at you.

“It was fast, and clean…not a drop of blood”

“Just flowers, and glass, and—”

You shush and kiss him, and the soft stroke of your fingertips get him there quickly . “We’ll clean it, we’ll fix everything.”

Something relaxes in him. Seungmin’s head falls back, and the movement in his neck is hypnotizing. “How can we fix it?” His mouth falls open as you slide down and fill yourself with him, and his hands jump to your hips. A stuttery how gets caught in his chest, but you can’t tell what he’s feeling because he’s no longer looking at you. His face is hidden, and his breathing starts to become shallow.

“Minnie?” His shoulders tense up until you hold him tight against you, and your thighs shake as you lower yourself completely on his lap. “Look at me so I can tell you properly.”

It takes a few more seconds and a few more sniffles before he peeks up at you.

“What are these tears for? Just upset about how everything went, or is it the music box?”

“I can’t do anything right. And it’s a miracle I haven’t been caught yet.” Seungmin’s hands squeeze as if he’s trying to get you to move on him, but you’re still as you rub his shoulders.

“Well, I disagree. I was the one watching, and I hope this isn't the last time we do that.” Another squeeze of his fingers makes your thigh jump, but you don’t move. “You did a very good job.”

“I’ll be better for you”

“I love you just like this”

He shakes his head as you kiss him again, but stops when your hands move up. The look on his face changes—he relaxes again as you comb your fingers through his hair. “Okay…”

“Okay?”

The shake turns to a nod, and he squeezes again as you start to move slowly, up and down, and the sound of his moans match your pace.

[acoraxia]

What are your thoughts on shadowpeach?

Fandom wise? I do not care for it.

Canon wise? I believe in men committing crimes while forming the most toxic, unhealthy attachments to one person could lead to such a dysfunctional relationship that it, eventually, turns into a functional one. And also they’re trans and aspec.

Disclaimer: this is all my opinion and people can do whatever they want, i simply have my gripes with some of the fandom stuff. this is just me explaining what i like and dislike about shadowpeach.

I think the most common thing people fall into when it comes to ships—or shipping in general—is how to domesticate these two characters without fully addressing their flaws, personalities, behavior, and their overall choices throughout the original media/show they come from. 

Macaque and SWK both suffer equally through this mischaracterization: Macaque is often painted as this shy or “edgy” character with little to no ties to his actual character in canon and, more often than not, he is perceived as this “dad” type of character when, in fact, he should not be allowed near children for I fear he will bully them nonstop until they sit there in the corner feeling disheartened and miserable about themselves; Sun Wukong is often portrayed as this dumb himbo with little-to-no means of understanding social cues, not understanding emotions in a way that’s very frustrating, and be this yearning, pining idiot who’s still longing for his childhood crush when he did not hesitate to punch this guy in the face multiple times throughout the show. So when they are paired up together it’s this weird mash of people believing Macaque is the better dad with more understanding of human behavior and Wukong is his dumb, doting husband who’s doing his best and cannot stand up for himself when confronted about things.

The amount of times people choose to make Macaque sympathetic by having Sun Wukong’s family side with Macaque when it comes to Wukong’s actions/choices is so vast I could not count them all on one hand. The common trope of having Princess Iron Fan (Sun Wukong’s sister-in-law) become Macaque’s sworn sister is so disheartening to see for someone who read through Journey To The West and thought of how silly the overall family dynamic of the Demon Bull Family and Sun Wukong’s troops was. Removing Iron Fan as Sun Wukong’s literal sister just to have someone backup Macaque and sympathize with him is funny and a bit silly. 

That being said… the canon version of Shadowpeach and its possibilities are, in fact, very delicious.

Canon wise this is what we know about Sun Wukong and Macaque’s history together: 

Sun Wukong and Macaque meet

The brotherhood is formed after Azure meets Sun Wukong, Macaque tags along with Wukong (note: Macaque is not addressed as “brother” by the characters, only Wukong is)

Macaque tries to warn Wukong about how dealing with Heaven might be a bad idea

They share a peach under a tree; Wukong reassures Macaque this plan will work

Wukong carries on with Azure’s plan anyway (yes, azure lion’s plan, not wukong’s)

The brotherhood is defeated and Wukong gets trapped under a mountain

Presumably no one comes to visit Wukong, only Macaque

During his final visit, Wukong is angry that Macaque is free and can’t see the fact that Wukong was trying to do everything for them and his kingdom

Macaque snaps back at Wukong and calls him an obsessive demon before leaving

They have another fallout and fight

Wukong ends up killing Macaque in the aftermath

500~ years later, Macaque and Wukong fight again with Wukong being more apathetic towards their reunion than Macaque is

Macaque obsesses over Wukong continuously (coughs)

Macaque is biased in his retellings of his and Wukong’s relationship (see: all of shadowplay and the scrolls memories)

They fight (again) throughout S3

They somewhat reconcile by the end of S4

We will address the fact Sun Wukong was groomed into going to war by this former celestial warrior instead of having it be because of his own want to protect his family and friends after Heaven refused to pay him the respect he wanted when he first joined their ranks later. Right now we focus on the fact that Sun Wukong is canonically a person people easily fall in love with (platonically) and have a tendency to want to stay close to regardless of what his future actions will be like and Macaque is sequentially obsessed with him throughout the show.

“The hero and the warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light, a protective glow, shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth. As time went on, the hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the hero's light grew, so too did his shadow. And soon, the warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the warrior was forgotten by the hero.”

Fun fact: Macaque is never going to be on par with Sun Wukong’s power and he works best as support than he does a duo-attacker along side Wukong. Wukong is on his own power level and Macaque, while being able of holding his own against enemies, could be stomped to death by Xiaoijiao is he crossed the line.

Macaque’s obsession with Sun Wukong comes from the inability to move on from the past; Macaque wanting things to go back as they were is a subtle theme going through the show — he keeps latching on to biased memories and avoiding the actual problems that caused their relationship to fall apart and it isn’t until Season 3’s big confrontation with Long Xiaojiao’s Samadhi Fire ritual. He realizes he abandoned Wukong during a time of need and proceeds to flee, abandoning him again. 

Macaque has issues. More often than not people call out on Sun Wukong for abandoning Xiaotian or the Monkie Kid Crew all while ignoring the fact Sun Wukong does not purposefully leave Qi Xiaotian, he tries his hardest to make it back in time and is visibly scared/horrified when LBD attacks in his absence. Sun Wukong tries his hardest to comfort Xiaotian while Macaque tries to torment him. 

Regardless, Sun Wukong and Macaque’s relationship is unique to most media’s portrayal of friends turned enemies. Because Wukong does not see Macaque as a threat up until he teams up with Lady Bone Demon — he is only scary by association, not by anything he has done up until that point. You can tell with the way Wukong mocks him and calls him something akin to a puppet during their interaction in Season 3 when Macaque trapped him and Nezha in the ice. 

And even then Macaque doesn’t even bother trying to engage with Wukong in a friendly manner because kindness is for losers HA i’m not apologizing for anything, bye Sun Wukong, you big old LOSER [proceeds to possibly live on the streets and stay homeless until wukong allows him to return to ffm under certain house rules]

You’ll notice that Sun Wukong barely has any opinions on Macaque.

This is because Macaque is favored by the narrative more than Sun Wukong is so we have very little context as to how Sun Wukong genuinely feels towards Macaque. 

Sun Wukong sees Macaque as an annoyance, a bother, a threat, a coward, an imposter and then, finally, an ally. 

But all we get from that is Wukong handing Macaque a peach-flavored ice cream pop as a parallel to him sharing a peach with his old friend back when they were young monkeys before he was trapped under a mountain for 500 years as a result of his abuser’s power hold on him that forced him to fight heaven as a way to “make the world a better place”. 

We love to see it.

Macaque and Wukong’s relationship goes from mutual interest and a supportive friendship established years prior to the original building of the brotherhood to a very weird, uncategorized type of dynamic. The only way to characterize Sun Wukong’s “affection” towards Macaque is, possibly, the same way most people would characterize Macaque to be towards Wukong. Y’know the slightly judgmental actions and eye rolls and scoffs of affection most people write about Macaque when Wukong does something stupid? Yeah.

“But Macaque said “this guy” when Wukong was presenting his plan to defeat Azure—“ yeah have you considered Wukong does a lot of masking in the presence of the entire Monkie Kid Crew and Macaque has a tendency to present himself as this cool persona when in fact he’s just a homeless monkey who’s been crashing on his ex’s couch for the past weeks since the ending of Season 3? 

“OK…. but why QPR Shadowpeach?”

Sun Wukong throughout the course of Journey to the West and all its past and future iterations have always had him be uninterested in both men and women. There are multiple instances where he’s capable of courting women and he instead backs away or does not pay it any mind; aside from this he’s heavily implied to only care about familial love and friendships. He does not see his pilgrim brothers as anything more than family and he views Tripitaka as a mentor rather than someone whom he was chained to. And Azure was his idol and he was groomed by him, and everyone else was viewed to him as a troop — or, y’know, a family.

This and the fact that— both Sun Wukong and Macaque are over a thousand years old. Why on earth would they have a normal type of relationship? Giving them a checklist of what passes on as romantic and platonic when to them the line is so blurred it’s barely existent to them is amusing. 

Sun Wukong and Macaque having their own weird relationship where it changes from frustrated best friends to partners to angry middle aged demons to the tired traumatized immortals who sometimes cuddle while still beating each other up is so deliciously interesting and unhealthy to the point where it is healthy. 

Also Celestial bodies are not the same as mortal bodies; canonically Sun Wukong has transformed into women before and people have addressed him with female-leaning pronouns before. my personal headcanon of sun wukong being genderfluid lves on and now we can have sapphic shadowpeach with transfem macaque.

also im still feverish so if this doesnt make sense then too bad damn im sorry

[theotherwesley]

I've been thinking about Spring Horror.

Autumn Horror is a given, and Summer Horror is its own genre. Winter Horror acknowledges the expected dangers of the cold and dark.

Spring Horror is a bit of a rare breed, spring being dominated by the association of new life and rebirth, but before the rebirth, there is the hungry gap, the starving time. It comes after all the provisions stocked for winter have run out, and the new growth has yet to begin. Animals are pregnant but have yet to give birth, birds are still returning, fish are half under ice. Early spring is when you find the bottom of the barrel. Winter of course will kill you in its serene way, but where the dead stay frozen in the snowy months, they must eventually be revealed by the thaw. The dead leaves from autumn are a carpet of slime yet to be reclaimed by soil; carrion that has been desiccating under the snow emerges again as husks and bones, sleeping where they last rested still wearing their skin like a loose costume; rivers unlock the sodden corpses of the unlucky, anything that had stumbled and was claimed by frozen currents under the ice. The spring ice will claim even more victims as it thaws, when the solid sheets across lakes are no longer trustworthy, and the rivers burst with snow melt. In the spring, water is at its most treacherous; things that were missing return changed. Whatever was hidden, floats up.

Snow becomes rain, icy ground becomes mud, old vegetation becomes mold, cold becomes wet; clothes that kept you warm in winter may be less suited to keeping you dry, and the firewood is damp. As the sun gradually returns, staying in the sky longer but with no more heat than in December, the first things to grow are mildew and fungus; the first flourishing crop of the year is spores, the second is illness. Whatever solidarity or peaceful isolation came from the necessity of sheltering through the winter is less pleasant when fasting becomes a regularity. The outdoors remains hostile, but the home is where madness and melancholy have been fermenting through the longest nights. By spring, habits may have become obsessions, and any small repeated annoyances will have long since grown intolerable. What has grown tight must snap.

Spring will always bear an association with birth and rebirth; it goes without saying that birth can be a source of horror, and before there can be rebirth there must first be a confrontation with rot. Spring Horror is about gnawing the bones that winter left, scouring the empty cellar to find the last shriveled apple; it's finding the corpses you buried staring you in the face, your bloated crimes rising to the top of the old well; it's about watching the world digest the dead; its about planting sins and picking the flowers that come up wrong.

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay okay, so Tim finds out Bruce is stuck in the timestream and gathers all his siblings + Barbara for a meeting, presenting his evidence, a drafted plan of action to save Bruce . . .

. . . And asks what to do with this information

They all come to an agreement / majority vote

l e t h i m d i e

=========

Once upon a time they thought that Gotham, the world, that they, all needed Batman

Now that isn't the case anymore

Oh he was mourned, by the Justice League, by his allies, by civilians . . .

But the Batfamily has grown into their own, they've found a way to fight for Gotham, Bludhaven, Crime Alley because they've inherited the Fear of Batman

They've found their own ways to instill the fear of them into the criminal world

Their territories are becoming better even despite their Patriarch being dead

And they feel less dead than they were becoming under his thumb

The Dark Knight is Dead; Long Live The Dark Knights

· · ·

People questioned what would happen with the Prince of Gotham dead

Tim tried becoming CEO, but Jason stepped in himself to take the mantle from right under him, citing he was too young and should enjoy his childhood while it still lasted

That started quite a fight between them

Duke Thomas was adopted by Jason and while not technically joining the family's nightlife, Signal could always be found while the sun was up

Gotham's bones broke, organs failed, and flesh was bitten off

Gotham has never been better since Batman or even The Second Robin died

Praise the Batfamily

This is happiness . . .

?

=========

Somebody finds out they let Batman die

Be it the Justice League, other heroes, their rogues, or another hero's rogues, or somebody else entirely

They find out

Do other groups learn by themselves? Does this knowledge come into the hands of people who would spread it?

Either way, the Batclan is going to have to confront that it's known they let Batman die

Is the knowledge it used maliciously, is the accuser wanting answers, or is it a mix of both

Gosh, what will Alfred think if he learns? I imagine that even if he enabled Bruce's abuse they kept him around, stick close enemies and friends after all

(me thinks personally that Joker is throwing a fit with his nemesis dead, and he may not even be able to abuse the fact his own kids killed him cuz it was a child abuser who was killed by his abused)

(but I'd love to see your take on Joker's pov when he only knows Batman is dead and if he learns his kids left him for dead and if he learns they were abused by him and that's why they let him die)

Now I'm wondering what would happen if it got leaked to the public that the Batfamily knew Batman could've been saved but did nothing about it. There could be so many different reactions from different groups

Crime Alley people, criminals, people outside Gotham, Gothamites themselves, and Bludhaven residents would have different takes collectively methinks

Fucking hell, that isn't even accounting for all the fuckery you could do w/ Bruce Wayne = Batman and I'm not talking about an post-mortem identity reveal, I'm talking identity shenanigans

Like say the bats knowing they could have saved Bruce but left him for dead and somebody/some group learns this and leaks it

And then Jason steps in to say "you know the FUCK what? We knew our old man could have been saved and since he was shit we voted/agreed to let him die!!" And all hell breaks loose

And that's just one example!

=========

Inspired by that ask on Jason calling for a family meeting after learning Bruce is stuck in the timestream to figure out what to do from there

+ the one post where Dick tries and fails to get Tim to give up on Bruce so he doesn't embark on BruceQuest and Bruce dies in the Timestream

w/ Cassandra in particular, it'd be fun to explore her psyche in the Vote branch, if she votes to let Bruce die or not considering her "No Kill" stance

Heck, with both branches they alone bring so much fun to the table, even without the flavor of The Reveal

Agreement: You get the explore a world where all the bat kids + Barbara want Bruce dead, by why is it? You get to see all their reasons for it, and how their reasonings may mesh or clash and how they come to make their decisions!

Majority Vote: You get to see the conflicts between those who want him back and want him dead + what they do and think knowing who voted for what then onwards

Bonus if a batsibling or two start of wanting Bruce back but then decide they want him gone, or the reverse, or they flip flop again and again until they make their choice

Either branch I think would overhaul the Batfamily's relationships w/ each other in a major way and not just because someone has to take Bruce's spot as the family head or whatever, but because they chose/voted for said Patriarch to die

That's a big fucking deal

Oh yeah, Duke; is he ever taught about the (technically not) Patricide committed? Or do they keep him ignorant because ignorance is bliss?

Because if he learns through means other than them, yeah it'll be a shit show the Bats won't be prepared for beforehand

Oh yeah what about Gordon? Do you think he'd be in the know or learn via leaks or a leaker cuz he's kind of Barbara's family

Hello!!!!!!!!!!

Tw: abuse, death, murder, child abuse, suicide (let me know if I need to add more)

I love this idea, and I'm totally up for breaking it down.

If it's not an agreement, then it's likely that the ones who disagree will try to save Bruce regardless of what everyone else wants

This will turn into an all-out war as those who want Bruce dead try to prevent the others from succeeding. It would be like a weird version of capture the flag, clue, and escape the room. The save-Bruce team (whether out of love or duty) would need to gather all the evidence that Tim did while fending off attacks and working against the clock (there comes a point in time that it's too late to save Bruce).

Even if they all agree, it's still complicated feelings wise.

Bruce is an abusive piece of shit (especially in this AU), but it's hard to not love your abuser. The cycle of abuse is difficult to break out of. I think Dick and Jason would be at the point they are more apathetic to Bruce's care/love. They are adults who don't rely on him. They might still love Bruce, but it's easier for them to put a defense against the man emotionally to the point of condoning his murder.

Babs and Steph aren't his kids, so, while their feelings aren't black and white, it's easier to distance themselves from Bruce.

Canonically, I think Tim recently got adopted by Bruce. This makes it harder for him to outright reject Bruce. When given evidence (and shown what Bruce did to his other family members), Tim might come to the conclusion that it's better off without Bruce.

Damian is a child who just got to meet his dad. I doubt he'd be on board with this plan nor, with his hero worship, would he be able to find faults in him. He simply hasn't spent enough time with Bruce (and lots of angst to be explored there. Basically, his "siblings" that he's just met are telling him it's better for him if their dad is dead).

Cass loves Bruce. She trusts his mission, what he's supposed to stand for, and that he does love his kids (she can see that he truly does love everyone). At the same time, he hurts her siblings. She doesn't agree with leaving Bruce to die, but her feelings are complicated on the matter.

How the batkids feel about Alfred is similar (although not categorically per a kid) as they feel about Bruce

If they've reached the point where they have acknowledged that Alfred will never be on their side nor protect them, they still love that old man. They want him to be around, they would be sad at his death, but they know Alfred could and has hurt them. They know Alfred would choose Bruce over them.

The JL find out Bruce isn't actually dead with the Black Lantern battle thing.

Theoretically, other heroes can then start trying to save Bruce. Without canon Tim's information, though, they might not be able to. Bonus points to this batfam au if Oracle and others actively sabotage their efforts.

Gordon would be presented with all the evidence that Batman was an abusive piece of shit.

The Commissioner would try to bury any feelings of grief out of guilt for what he's unknowingly allowed his ex friend to get away with. If he knew that Batman was the same boy he threw a jacket over at the scene of that kid's parents' murder, he would sit at his desk with a bottle of scotch and a lit cigarette trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Jim would blame himself, curse Batman, and, as he curses himself for always allowing, do not a damn thing against what the masked vigilantes tell him to do.

Crime Alley and Bludhaven respectively probably would either not give a fuck, say "good riddance," or whistle at the fact the Bat's own kids refused to save him.

Gothamites know their vigilantes. If the batkids had refused to help Batman, than they trust the kids. There's nothing out there that would turn a man's entire family against him besides the man himself. By the end of the week, all Batman related stuff is burnt and replaced by the many symbols of the birds.

Anyone outside of Gotham (besides Bludhaven) will criticize the batkids. Gotham becomes fiercely protective over their birds after that and will fist fight anyone who tries to talk shit about them or their decision.

Fuck Joker, but here's how I think he felt about it.

Man definitely lost his shit in a fit of giggles. It seems (though Joker is slightly disappointed he wasn't part of the final showdown) that Batman was dragged down to the level of madness he swore he'd never go to. If Batman's kids turned against him, oh that must mean that the furry freak truly did horrendous actions against them!

That clown spends several weeks coming up with twisted fantasies and theories to ask out of the Birds to tease out their reactions for when he next sees them. He wants to know exactly how the Dark Knight fell and what was so dastardly to turn children against their father.

After he solves that mystery? Dealer's choice. He doesn't quite get as much joy without Batman around. He can play around with Red Hood and Red Robin specifically (if JJ happened), but nobody is the Dark Knight.

Maybe his melancholy turns into rage where he starts seriously gunning for all the Birds for not returning Batman to him. That, or Joker kills himself cause his nemesis/obsession is gone. Both are likely responses.

Anyways, I also love the positive notes you had that I didn't address. The hopefulness of them doing better for Gotham and Jason adopting Duke is fantastic. I'd love more of that as well as everything else

[yizukikhons]

Danny is Nightwings Son(Angst)

@ Two of my favorite creators @wolfsrainrules and @wolfjackle-creates

While in jail for the murder of Blockbuster, it is discovered that Catalina Flores(Tarantula) is pregnant. Even though it was only once, it only takes once. Due to the length of her sentence, the baby is put up for a closed adoption and is taken in by the Fentons. They raise Daniel as their own, and he looks enough like them, with his black hair and blue eyes, that no one questions it. Even though his unruly hair is too curly, his nose is too strong, and his skin darkens under the midwest sun to a shade none of his 'parents' have in their families.

Unfortunately, Vlad finds out about this when he tries to use Jack and Maddie's DNA to make Danny from scratch. Vlad is furious. His whole focus is on Maddie. On his need to not be the only one of his kind. And while Danny is still a halfa, he is not Maddie's son. He's now flipping between trying to kill Danny and trying to steal custody to make Danny his son and no one else's. During these events Danny's halfa status is revealed along with the fact that he's adopted. When Danny finds out he, Tuck, and Sam hack into his records and find his birth mom. Finding out his mom is a murderer is not something Danny ever wanted to know, but he does now and he flees to Bludhaven, the location of Nightwing, to ask him about his mom and hopefully find out who his Dad might be.

I don't have a lot more for this scenario, but Nightwing does not take being confronted by his son, conceived through rape after 14 years, very well.

[ahoycaptainautumn]

Fated Mates Part 10 Final

Synopsis: you, a vengeful vampire slayer, cross paths with the devious and handsome Astarion. Instead of a stake through the heart, Astarion finds something he thought impossible for vampire spawn. A mate.

The finale. The meeting that has been destined in the stars. Shall you both agree to the mating bond, or go separate ways?

Words seep into your brain and wash it in all this new information. You read and reread the passage on Vampiric Mates as if it could give you anything new. It feels like your brain is processing and then restarting at the last moment. This couldn’t be right, right? If it is, if you two are mates, then Astarion knew. He knew and he didn’t tell you. He didn’t tell you when you met, didn't tell you when you had kissed him. Hells he didn’t even tell you when you fucked in that abandoned temple. You had gone through every step of the mating process without a single inkling of understanding. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to feed this into your earlier rage at Astarion’s dismissal of you. But it honestly just made it make sense. Mates didn’t get to choose whom their mate was destined to be. He didn’t have a choice. He never once had a choice in 200 years and once again the universe did not give him a chance. The moment he tastes freedom, feels the sun on his skin again, he lays eyes on his mate. Not just any average person, a vampire hunter with a thirst for blood. Who damn near kills him in his tent. Were you still upset at being duped? Upset he ran instead of talked to you? Of course, you still wanted to punch him in his stupid perfect elf face. But more so you wanted to talk to him. To know what he felt, if this meant anything to him. If you meant anything to him. At the thought of you not, it made your stomach lurch. You recognize the feeling for what it is. That tightening rope feeling. A bond tie. A tethering to him that sung each time you thought of him or were near him. You had thought yourself just a silly schoolgirl for feeling such a strong emotion with his presence. Now it finally made sense. This whole adventure so far made so much more sense. You stood quickly and took a deep inhale. You needed to make this right. You needed to find him. You needed to find your mate.

-

Astarion tears through his chest once more as he paws his belongings again and again. Everything was here but that damned book. Worse yet, your scent lingered around the chest as if mocking him. He wants to believe it will magically appear under some shirt and silly old Astarion simply missed it. But the back of his mind knew better. He saw the hurt and rage in your eyes last time you saw one another. In that dim tavern stockroom. You had ran from him so fast he had barely a moment to think. By the time he got to camp he could smell you had been there, the one trait he is thankful for with this bond. Your scent trailed from his tent to yours. He hadn’t even thought of why you had been near his tent. Without a second thought he had paced near yours. It wasn’t until he gave up and went to his own tent that he thought more about it. Especially with your scent wrapped inside. That’s how he came to be here, rifling through his own things. Desperately hoping you didn’t see the one thing that carried his secret. Well, both of yours secret. His hand rakes back his perfectly sculpted hair as he tries to catch his breath. He had two options. Find and confront you, which seemed horrible. Or pack a bag and run for the high hills and never look back. As much as that option entices him he realizes he couldn’t even if he wanted to. One being that the tadpole would still be a problem and not one he believes he could fix on his own. Secondly it would mean leaving his mate. A dark gnarled pain twists through his spine at the thought. Even just imagining leaving you, never seeing you again woke some ancient horrible feeling that burrowed deep. Well, that left option one. Astarion stood, he tried and failed to calm his nerves. He was just about to open his tent flap when your hand poked through the opening. You lean into the tent and make eye contact with Astarion. The connection bursts through a feeling of utter euphoria. Both of your bodies flamed with the feeling of the entwined bond. Your skin tingles as if it begs to touch his. He feels the same as his teeth aching to plunge into your delectable neck and claim you as his own. To bite every surface you have exposed. As much as he wants to throw himself at you. To forget words and let his body do the talking, he resists. He was tired of that being his form of communication. Of sex and touch being the way people got to him. Of how they perceived him. He wanted.. more. He had not a single clue what “more” included. But he wanted to try. No matter how much it made his fight or flight trigger deep in his belly. His feet ready to take option two and start running. But instead he clears his throat. You reach behind you and hand the mating book to Astarion.

“I believe this belongs to you.” You start, timidly. Your eyes say it all. Your (e/c) eyes swimming with apprehension. You’re so visibly nervous it reminds Astarion of a tender little lamb. Frightful but curious. Anticipating with anxiety. He, the lion, wanting to gobble the lamb whole.

“I guess that means we need to talk.” He replies, not sure how to start this conversation. You just nod your head, Astarion opens his mouth ready to let whatever words spew from his mouth but you hold a finger up.

“Not here… maybe somewhere private?” You ask. He only nods, ready to follow you anywhere you take him. You hold out a hand to him and await his. He looks down at your open palm. How warm and inviting it is. The thought of even just holding your hand sparking hope in his chest. He knew better than to think this was anything but you letting him down. Of denying wanting to intermingle with someone with as much baggage as him. Someone as damaged as him. He wouldn’t blame you one bit. Really he would think it for the best. For you to break this bond and not go near him; or Cazador for that matter. But then you give him a small smile and usher with your hand once again. He tentatively puts his hand in yours. But maybe he could have just a little hope.

You lead him past your fellow companions' tents holding his hand. A few eyes watch you as you make your way towards the forest. Karlach meets your eyes and gives two big thumbs up which nearly makes you snort if it wasn’t for the anxiety bubbling in your chest. You lead Astarion to a clearing near the flowing river a bit aways from camp. You had grabbed a large plush blanket with throw pillows and laid them out before you had gotten Astarion. For once you wanted something to go right. For a special moment to be curated and simple. Not during a battle or on accident. Not in an abandoned temple or a psychics tent. But an evening of just you and him. Of twinkling stars and the silence of a night-lit blooming forest. However this is to go, whatever his decision may be, it would be between the two of you in a neutral setting. Somewhere you could lay your hearts open to one another. You sit down on the blanket and pat the spot next to him. Astarion sits next to you, craning his neck up to watch the stars alongside you. You both sit in silence for just a few minutes. Enjoying watching the stars in each others company. You wish this is all it could be. But you knew it had to be discussed.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask, shifting your gaze from the sky to Astarion. He meets your gaze and you see the flash of anxiety come and go from his eyes. You keep your face neutral as best you can.

“In the spirit of honesty, I don’t really know. I didn’t know what to think or what to do.” He replies with a sigh. He throws his arms behind him and leans back into them. He stares down at the ground as if far away in thought.

“As far as I knew mates were only for true vampires. A rarity for them, not many of them able trust one another to ever find their mate. So naturally being a spawn I thought I couldn’t have one. It simply wasn’t something I ever gave much thought to.”

“And now that you have one?” You prod further. You ache desperately to put a reassuring hand to him. To tell and show how much you support him at this moment. But you didn’t want to persuade him one way or another. Especially not guilt him by any means. He takes a long drag of a breath and continues on.

“I should be asking you this.” You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. He steals a look over to see your confused face.

“Is this, all of this, what you want?” He ushers between the both of you. You can’t help the little grin that reaches your face.

“Am I not obvious enough?” You tease. He grunts in response.

“I don’t just mean the ungodly good sex darling. I understand I come with my…. Complications. Complications that have been quite a thorn in your side.” He dances around the word vampire. Almost fearful to bring up something he knew was his largest flaw. What good does a vampire spawn do as a partner? He was your antithesis. The opposite of your life’s mission. Plus he would go on to live unless someone got fidgety with a stake. You, however, only had so much time. He highly doubted you would join in his immortality. You look lost in thought, tongue stuck out in thought.

“You’re not wrong. I hated all vampires. I didn’t discriminate between them, all of them monsters to me. My father had foolishly thought to gamble with one, to generate more wealth than we would ever need with a debt owed to Cazador. I never found out what he owed him, all I know is that it was grand enough for Cazador to personally come and slaughter my whole family. Besides me. He had said I wasn’t worth his efforts. So when I met you I naturally hated you.” Before Astarion could make a snarky comment you continued.

“But then I got to know you. To see you for more than what you are. That just because you are a vampire doesn’t mean you’re my enemy. If anything you have been quite the opposite.” You finish. You can tell a bit of tension eases from Astarions shoulders.

“So where do we go from here? 200 years and I’ve never known what more was. That there was a “more”. Forgive me if I am a bit out of touch.” Astarion replies. You nudge your shoulder with his.

“That’s fine old man, we can take it slow.” You tease. He frowns at your jest before a soft smile breaks across his pale face. The moonlight illuminates him giving him an ethereal glow.

“We. Us. I like the sound of that.” He replies.

“And no more running away when we need to talk! I might still stake you, you know.” You playfully slap his arm. He fakes being wounded giving you a pout.

“I make no promises, little killer.” He grins. It would be hard for him to break the habit. Preferring running and hiding. But he could try, for you. “Now may I suggest we consummate this mating?” He leans over towards you, hands resting on either side of your hips. His face just a breathe away from you. A slight chuckle falls from your lips.

“I believe we already have.” You tease. He gives you an award winning smile as he leans in closer. His lips brushing ever so slightly against yours.

“Couldn’t hurt to once more, or maybe a few more times.” His eyes dance from yours down to your lips and back up to you. You lick your dry lips as you watch him drink you in.

“Only a few?” You whisper your head barely beginning to turn into his. Half lidded eyes drawn to him.

“Maybe more than that.” His voice is barely there, red eyes blown wide with lust.

“I sincerely hope even more than that.” He grins as you say that.

“Now that, my dear, is something I can promise.” He says as he seals his lips over your own. You greet his lips in earnest. The kiss is sweet. Perfect. Enveloping the longing, the caring that flowed between your bond. Astarion walks his hands forward, pushing your body back onto the blanket. You follow his steps as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He hovers over you, losing himself in the kiss. Astarion had had many lovers but kisses with you were like no other. As if fireworks set off inside of him. Sparks of pure adoration going off within him. He nudged his way between your legs and you gladly let him. His leg swings upwards, pushing your other leg farther away. His groin comes in contact with your clothed center. Chest to chest, you groan into the kiss. One of his hands comes to glide down to your waist and grip your hip. The other holding himself up by the forearm. You trace down his neck before slipping your hands to his front. You trace his body slowly till you meet the hem of his shirt. You glide your hands under and place your hands flat against his abdomen. Though he feels always a bit cool you feel nothing but flames. You trace random patterns along his front. He deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth. His grip on his hip massaging the tender flesh there. Your hands go higher, nudging him to remove his shirt. He grins into your kiss as he leans back. He grabs his shirt and all but rips it off his body.

You stare awe-struck at him. The way his body is so beautifully sculpted as if he was a statue in a museum. Chiseled to perfection by the universe's best artist. His curly white hair disheveled, flowing with the slight breeze. His eyes hungry and trained on you, gauging your constant reaction. His hands find the ends of your shirt and he teasingly strokes it upwards in slow motions. You lean up and watch him take your shirt completely off. His hand reaches to your jaw as he leans in for another kiss. All the while you begin to loosen his trousers.

“So needy.” He teases into your lips between kisses. You smile and break the kiss. You lean up to and press your lips near his pointed ear.

“I can’t help that I want my mate.” You whisper to him. He shudders at your words. Mate. Gods the title sounded so good coming from you. He nibbles down your neck in earnest. Leaving love bites and hickeys in his trail. He ruts his hips into yours. His hands go all over. Touching every inch of exposed skin he can access. Kneading and caressing every part of you. Your hands wander his body as if touching it for the first time. Mapping out as if you could forget it. His kisses travel across your collarbone and to your sternum. One of his hands comes up to softly play with your breast. His hand kneading the soft skin. Occasionally his fingers come up to twist your nipple in a delcious rhythm. You grind against him in desperation for more touch. For more of him. Your fingers undo his pants and begin to tug as much as you can in your position. Astarions lips come up to your perked nipple and begin to suck. His eyes trained on yours to gauge your reaction. You throw your head back in ecstasy as a rough moan escapes your mouth. You make no show of covering any sounds, letting Astarion hear how good he makes you feel. His hand plays with your opposite breast as he sucks and bites at your sensitive bud. You writhe, desperation growing in you. The fire he builds inside you is quickly building to an inferno.

“Please Astarion.” You whine. He comes off of you with a wet pop before he stands. He makes quick work of his pants and immediately kneels and sweeps yours off just as fast. You lay bare to one another. Basking in the moonlit glow of each others naked bodies. Astarions eyes drink you in. A soft look on his face, adoration evident.

“You’re beautiful.” He tells you. You give a wide grin before you open your arms and usher him closer. He immediately follows and finds himself between your legs again. Though he brings himself much lower than before. His face resting just above your heat. You watch his actions and you can feel your breath catch. His eyes stare hard into yours as he brings his tongue out and licks. The flat of his tongue going from the bottom to the top of your slit. Your nails dig into the blanket as you arch your back. Astarion devours you like a man starved. Spreading your folds with his fingers to delve deeper. His tongue caresses your insides sending shivers up your spine. You cry out his name like a prayer.

“Ah- A- astarion!” You cry over and over again. It only spurs him on, chasing your ecstasy to get you to your high. His fingers join in his ministrations as he plunges two fingers into your wet opening. He curls ever so slightly as he motions a come hither inside of you. All the while his tongue laps and sucks at your clit. The stimulation is all too much, your whole body buzzing.

“Astarion- ahh- I’m gonna-“ you can barely moan out, your whole body too consumed in rapture.

“Cum my love, show me how good I make you feel.” He purrs against your skin. You reach your climax, cumming on his fingers. He works you through it, slowing his fingers' pace. He looks up at you to see your lust filled face. He leans upwards to catch you in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips. It sends a thrill through you.

“Astarion please- I need you.” You cry, arms grabbing at him senselessly. It’s as if you forgot all sense, Astarion the only thing that mattered. The only thing that exists.

“Oh with pleasure, my mate.” He gives you a devilish grin. You clench at his words. Mate. God you could listen to him call you that a thousand times and not get sick of it. He lines himself up with your entrance, using your slick to lube himself properly. He enters you slowly as you both moan wantonly in union. You wrap your hands around his neck to hold onto something. His arms hold himself up by the back of his forearms on either side of your head. Your bodies touch as he rocks into you. It’s intimate. Something very foreign for Astarion. Everything he had done was quickies. Hard and fast to reach a climax to be finished with. But you. Oh you he wanted to take his time with. To ruin you, completely and wholeheartedly. To mark you as his in every crevice and nook of your body. That his signature would be branded so deeply into your skin no other man would even think to come near you. You are his entirely. His hips speed up in rhythm. Skin slapping onto skin echoing with your shared moans.

“Say it again.” Astarion grunts out. His eyes find yours, begging. You swallow dryly. The bond is so strong in this position, in this eye contact. As if your body thrums with it. You would give him the world and stars if he asked for it at this moment. But you already knew what he wanted.

“Astarion, my mate.” You reply. He groans, biting his lower lip. His hips speed up, becoming sloppy. Your body is wrecked in pleasure.

“Again.” He growls.

“My mate. Mine.” You say once again. At that Astarions fangs plunge into your soft neck. Stars line your vision. You feel out of body. Lost in a sea of utter pleasure. You reach your finish together, Astarion spilling his seed inside of you. The bond ties tightly between you both. Unbreakable. You hug his body close as you come down from your high. He releases from your neck and moves to lay next to you. Your hands intertwine as you look up at the stars together. Both attempting to catch your breath.

“Well, what now darling?” He asks you between puffs of air. He looks over at you. Those crimson eyes full of adoration.

“Well. I guess we save the world.” You reply with a chuckle. He squeezes your hand.

“I think we are going to have a lot of fun together.”

Part 9 here

———-

I really hope you guys enjoyed the series! I will be focusing on one shots and requests from here on out! Also if you got the Twilight reference give me a holla!

[newobsessionweekly]

Under the radar

Main masterlist | 9-1-1 masterlist

Evan "Buck" Buckley x Bradford!reader

Crossover 911 x The Rookie

Fandom: 911; The Rookie

Summary: You and Buck are happily together in a relationship kept away from your big brother, Tim. Little did you know he's going to find out in a not so pleasant way.

A/N: Crossover! I looove this. Tim would surely be an overprotective brother, looking out for his sister every step. I loved the chemistry between Tim and Angela and how they have that brother-sister kind of relationship and couldn't help myself. I love Buck too. Hope you like it and can't wait for your feedback. Thank you for your support! Lots of love, bubs! I really appreciate all of you.

Fluff | A bit of angst

Requested: no

Words: 5.4k

Warnings: Description of a pileup, unconsciousness, hurt, fire

You wake up to the sound of your alarm blaring, groaning as you roll over and squint at the bright light filtering through the curtains. Another day, another shift. You stretch, feeling the knots in your muscles protest from the previous day's exertion and made your way to the kitchen.

Tim groaned as he poured himself a cup of coffee, his expression as sour as the burnt toast sitting on the kitchen counter. "Morning," he muttered, barely sparing a glance in your direction.

You were lost in your own little world, your phone held tightly in your hand as you typed away furiously. A dreamy smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you texted Buck, your heart skipping a beat with each message exchanged.

You: Morning, sunshine

Buck: Good morning, beautiful. Did you dream of me last night?

Your feelings for Buck had blossomed gradually, like a delicate flower unfolding under the warmth of the sun. It had started innocently enough, with casual conversations and shared laughter during your shifts. But as you worked side by side, facing danger and disaster together, your bond had deepened into something more profound.

"Thank you for not ignoring me," your brother remarks sarcastically, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You: Maybe... or maybe I dreamt of murdering Tim. Anyways I did had a good sleep.

Buck: Ouch, right in the heart! But seriously, can't wait to see you today.

Finally emerging from your daydream, you blink blearily, trying to focus on Tim's figure looming over you."Sorry," you mumbled, finally tuning into the conversation. "What were you saying?"

Tim eyed you suspiciously, his grumpiness giving way to mild annoyance. "You sleep well?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You: Sameee. Just don't forget to bring coffee, or else I'll have to reconsider this whole relationship.

Buck: Yes, ma'am.

You nodded absentmindedly, a dopey smile spreading across your face as you relived your daydream. "Uh-huh," you replied, barely suppressing a yawn.

"What's with the smile, huh?" he eyes you suspiciously, his gaze lingering on your phone "Who are you texting?" he asks, his tone tinged with curiosity.

You feel a pang of guilt gnawing at your insides, knowing that if you tell Tim the truth, it could lead to a confrontation you're not ready for. But at the same time, you can't bring yourself to lie to him, not after everything you've been through together.

You found yourself drawn to Buck's magnetic charm, his unwavering dedication to his job, and his genuine kindness towards others. He had a way of making you feel safe and understood, of easing the burdens that weighed heavy on your shoulders. And as you spent more time together, you couldn't deny the growing affection that bloomed within your heart.

"Just picturing all the ways I'm gonna kill you some day," you quip, a mischievous glint in your eye.

All you can think about is Buck – his bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief, his tousled blonde hair that fell effortlessly across his forehead, his strong, lean frame that radiated confidence and strength.

Tim rolls his eyes, but a hint of amusement flickers in his expression. "Very funny. You know, you're lucky I even let you live here rent-free."

"Yeah, yeah, remind me again why I agreed to be your roommate?" you retort, stretching lazily.

"Because you're too lazy to find your own place, that's why," Tim shoots back without missing a beat.

Your mind drifts back to Buck, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. You can't help but smile at the thought of him, your heart fluttering at the mere mention of his name. But as Tim's voice pulls you back to reality, a pang of guilt washes over you. You know you should tell Tim about your relationship with Buck, but the fear of his disapproval holds you back.

"Lazy? Says the guy who leaves his dirty socks all over the living room," you tease, poking fun at his infamous habit.

"Hey, those socks are strategically placed as a warning to any potential intruders," Tim defends himself, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Right, because nothing scares off burglars like the smell of your sweaty feet," you counter, unable to suppress a giggle.

"You're hilarious, you know that?" Tim chuckles, shaking his head.

"Just calling it like I see it, Timmy," you reply cheekily.

"Don't call me that," Tim grumbles, though there's a trace of fondness in his voice.

"Whatever you say, Timmy," you tease, unable to resist poking fun at him.

"Ugh, you're impossible," Tim declares with mock exasperation.

"You love me, though," you say with a grin, knowing full well how much your brother cares for you.

"Yeah, yeah, don't push it," Tim replies, though there's a softness to his tone. "Well, I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to grab breakfast before we head out. There's this new place that just opened up-" he continues, but you quickly interrupt.

"Sorry, Tim, I can't. Got to get to the station early today," you interject hastily, hoping he won't press further.

"Early? Since when do you voluntarily show up early?" Tim's brow furrows in confusion.

"Since today! Gotta, uh, organize some... stuff," you lie, willing him to drop the subject before he uncovers your secret.

Tim eyes you suspiciously, but eventually shrugs, deciding not to push further. "Alright, suit yourself. Just don't forget to lock up before you leave."

"Got it," you reply, already mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead.

As Tim heads out the door, you let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the brief reprieve. But as you gather your things and make your way to the station, the weight of your secret hangs heavy on your shoulders. You know you can't keep hiding forever, but the thought of confronting Tim fills you with dread.

For now, you push aside your fears and focus on the task at hand, burying yourself in your work and trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of your mind. But deep down, you know that sooner or later, you'll have to face the truth and find the courage to tell Tim about the man who has stolen your heart.

As the morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, you found yourself wrapped in Buck's arms, the two of you basking in the quiet intimacy of the moment. His touch was gentle against your skin, each caress igniting a spark of affection within you.

"Morning, sunshine," Buck murmured, his voice soft and filled with warmth.

You playfully nuzzled closer to him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Hey, handsome," you replied, your heart fluttering at the sight of his endearing smile.

As Buck gazed at you, his heart swelled with a mixture of love and adoration. To him, you were a vision of beauty, your features illuminated by the soft morning light. Your eyes sparkled with warmth, reflecting the depth of your soul. He could lose himself in the depths of your gaze for hours, finding solace and comfort in the silent connection you shared.

He grinned as he handed you a steaming cup of coffee. "Here's your coffee, as promised," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Oh! You're my hero," you teased, taking a grateful sip of the warm brew.

"Speaking of heroes," Buck said, a playful glint in his eye, "How about I save you from Tim tonight? A little date at my place. I'll get some pizza, we can continue our show. How does that sound?"

Your smile was like sunshine, lighting up the room and chasing away the darkness. It was infectious, capable of lifting his spirits even on the darkest of days. And when you laughed, it was music to his ears, a melody that echoed in his heart and filled him with joy.

You raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a teasing grin. "Sounds like you want to save Tim," you quipped, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "But its perfect."

As you settled back into his embrace, enjoying the peaceful moment, Buck's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. His touch was a soothing balm, a tangible reminder of the love and affection you shared.

It was the way you moved with grace and confidence, a silent strength that drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Your touch was gentle yet powerful, capable of soothing his soul with a single caress.

In your presence, Buck felt a sense of peace and contentment that he had never known before. You were his anchor in the storm, his rock in times of uncertainty. He cherished every moment spent with you, treasuring the memories you shared like precious gems.

But above all else, it was your love that meant the most to Buck. It was a love that transcended words, a bond that defied logic and reason. With you by his side, he felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges life threw his way.

As he looked at you now, snuggled close in his arms, Buck couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. And as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, he silently vowed to cherish you, to love you with every fiber of his being, for you were the light of his life.

You cuddled together, enjoying each other's presence, while Buck took a sip of his coffee. "It's a quiet morning," he remarked, his voice laced with contentment.

"Hey there, big guy, don't jinx it," you teased, snuggling closer to him. "I won't survive another catastrophe today."

Buck chuckled, leaning in to steal another kiss. "Make me shut up, then," he murmured against your lips, his touch sending shivers of delight through your body.

Just then, Hen's voice broke through the tranquility of the moment. "Morning, love birds. You're here early."

You exchanged a sheepish glance with Buck before responding. "Just wanted some peace and quiet. Tim's been overly grumpy and asking a lot of questions lately."

Across the room, Hen busied herself with her morning routine, flashing you a knowing smile as she prepared for the day ahead. Eddie glanced up from his paperwork, curiosity evident in his expression as he listened to your conversation.

"You still didn't tell him yet?" Eddie asked, his tone gentle yet probing.

"It's none of his business," you replied firmly. "But ever since what happened to Lucy and the serial killer she met at the bar, he's been overly protective."

Hen nodded in understanding, her gaze filled with empathy. "Not surprised. That man has seen a lot of bad things. And people."

"You should tell him, it'll be easier for both of you," Eddie suggested gently, his eyes meeting yours with unwavering support.

Before you could respond, the shrill sound of the alarm shattered the silence, announcing multiple calls at once. Everyone turned their attention to Buck, who raised his arms playfully in surrender.

You leaned into Buck, stealing a quick kiss before jumping into action. "You're in trouble, and I don't think I can save you this time," you whispered teasingly, a playful glint in your eye as you prepared for the day ahead.

When you arrived at the scene, the full extent of the chaos became apparent. A pileup on the highway had caused a scene of utter devastation, with mangled cars strewn haphazardly across the road. Smoke billowed from the wreckage, obscuring the sky with a thick haze.

"My brother's here," you muttered, your voice tinged with resignation as you spotted Tim amidst the chaos.

Without hesitation, you and Hen rushed to assess the situation, your training kicking in as you surveyed the scene. Tim followed closely behind, his expression serious as he briefed you on the situation.

"Multiple vehicles involved, injuries reported," Tim explained, his voice tense with urgency. "We need to triage and assess the scene before you can begin extraction."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at the news. "What did you do until now?" you demanded, your tone gruff with irritation.

Tim sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping with weariness. "We tried to do some triage, but there are much more people trapped in cars than we thought," he admitted, his voice strained with exhaustion.

With a shared glance, you and Hen wasted no time in getting to work, your focus laser-sharp as you assessed the situation and began to formulate a plan of action. Despite the chaos surrounding you, you felt a sense of determination coursing through your veins, a fierce resolve to save as many lives as possible.

Eddie joined you, lending a helping hand as you worked together to triage the injured as Buck and Bobby prepared the necessary equipment, coordinating with the rest of the team.

Buck's eyes never strayed far from you, his gaze filled with concern and admiration as he watched you work. You spotted one victim in particular who needed immediate assistance. Their car showed signs of imminent danger, with smoke billowing from the engine and flames licking at the edges of the wreckage. The victim was unconscious, barely breathing, and time was of the essence.

"Buck! I need your help over here!" you called out urgently, your voice cutting through the chaos.

Without hesitation, Buck rushed to your side, his expression filled with determination as he assessed the situation. Tim couldn't help but notice the glances exchanged between you and Buck, couldn't deny the bond that existed between you and Buck, nor the unwavering support of Buck by your side.

"Bradford, take the conscious and slightly hurt victims out of the cars and away from this place," you instructed your brother, your voice firm with authority.

Tim nodded in acknowledgment, his gaze filled with pride as he followed your orders without question. With a shared glance, you and Buck continued to work tirelessly, your determination unwavering as you fought to save lives amidst the chaos of the scene.

The flames danced menacingly around the wrecked car as you and Buck exchanged a brief, determined glance before springing into action. With a sense of urgency, you assessed the situation, noting the victim's precarious position amidst the wreckage. Their breathing was shallow, and time was running out.

Working quickly but methodically, you and Buck coordinated your efforts, communicating silently as you devised a plan of action. Buck moved to one side of the car, while you positioned yourself on the other, your hearts pounding in unison as you prepared to extract the victim from the burning wreckage.

With practiced precision, you reached into the car, carefully maneuvering around the flames as you worked to stabilize the victim's condition. Buck mirrored your movements, his touch gentle yet firm as he assisted you in securing the victim's vital signs.

Tim's watchful gaze lingered on you and Buck as you worked together, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed the subtle exchange between you. He couldn't help but notice the way your hands lingered on each other's, the way Buck never left your side in face of danger, guarding you from the fire.

You synchronized your movements, lifting the victim free from the wreckage with practiced precision. The flames licked at the edges of the car, threatening to engulf you in their fiery embrace, but you refused to be deterred, your determination unwavering as you fought to save the victim's life.

With a collective effort, you and Buck carried the victim to safety, laying them gently on the ground as you assessed their condition. Their breathing was shallow, their pulse weak, but there was hope yet. With swift yet careful movements, you administered emergency medical treatment, your hands moving with practiced precision as you fought to stabilize the victim's condition.

And as the flames finally engulfed the wrecked car, sending plumes of smoke billowing into the sky, your hearts racing with adrenaline as you watched the scene unfold before you.

When the last of the victims were safely extricated and the flames were extinguished, the chaos of the scene began to dissipate, replaced by an eerie calm. You gathered around the ambulance, watching as police officers worked to ease the flow of traffic, their lights flashing in the fading light of day.

Buck's arm was wrapped around your waist, a comforting presence amidst the chaos. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice filled with admiration as he spoke.

"You were incredible out there, Y/N," Buck murmured, his eyes shining with pride. "And so beautiful in action."

You couldn't help but smile at his words, the warmth of his praise filling you with a sense of accomplishment. With Buck by your side, you felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenges came your way.

But as the scene began to return to normalcy, Tim approached with Lucy by his side. You and Buck subtly distanced yourselves, exchanging a quick glance of understanding. Tim's eyes flickered back and forth between you and Buck as he spoke, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

It was killing you to keep your love a secret, especially from your brother. Eddie's words painfully echoed through your mind, knowing that telling Tim might ease the awkward tension. But it might as well make it worse, considering Tim's opinion regarding Buck.

There was this general misconception of police officers about the other branch of first responders. In Tim's mind, Buck was this reckless guy, putting himself in danger without hesitation, without considering the risks. He is way out of your league, he thought. Fearing that one day, Buck's action will put you in danger as well.

Buck was this ball of happiness and joy, leaving the impression of childishness. But he was more than that. Buck was selfless, putting everyone's life upon his. He was this ray of sunshine, warming everyone's day.

"Damn, Y/N, you were seriously badass out there," Tim exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You did a great job."

You couldn't help but grin at your brother's praise, his approval meaning more to you than words could express. Despite the occasional clashes and disagreements, Tim's support was unwavering, a constant source of strength and encouragement.

"Thanks, Tim," you replied, your tone sincere as you exchanged a brief hug with your brother. "I appreciate it."

Lucy chimed in, her eyes shining with admiration. "Seriously, you guys were like superheroes out there," she said, her voice filled with awe. "I don't know how you do it."

Buck chuckled, a playful twinkle in his eye. "Just another day at the office," he quipped.

Tim's gaze lingered on you and Buck for a moment longer, his brow furrowed in silent contemplation. Lucy nudged him gently, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Tim's expression softened, his gaze filled with concern,"Be safe out there, okay?"

You nodded in acknowledgment, the weight of Tim's words settling heavily on your shoulders. "I will, Tim," you assured him, your voice filled with determination. "You too."

Tim and Lucy patrolled the streets as the events of the chaotic scene replayed in his mind, his thoughts consumed by concern for his sister. He couldn't shake the image of you working alongside Buck, your undeniable chemistry and shared closeness impossible to ignore.

"Hey, Lucy," Tim began, his voice filled with uncertainty. "What do you think of Buck?"

Lucy glanced over at Tim, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. She had sensed Tim's unease ever since you arrived at the scene, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive at the sight of you in danger, especially when Buck was the one who came to your rescue.

"Buck?" Lucy repeated, her tone thoughtful. "He seems like a good guy to me. Always ready to lend a helping hand, never backs down from a challenge."

Tim nodded, his brow furrowing in silent contemplation. "Yeah, but what about him and Y/N?" he pressed, his concern evident in his voice. "Do you think they're...you know..."

Lucy raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You mean, are they more than just friends?" she teased, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Tim's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he pressed on, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Yeah, exactly," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Lucy considered Tim's question for a moment before responding, her tone gentle but firm. "I don't know. Tim, you know your sister better than anyone," she began, her voice filled with sincerity. "If Y/N cares about Buck, then maybe he's not as bad as you think."

Tim sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging with resignation. "I just want what's best for her," he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. "I don't think Buck would be the best fit, but..."

Lucy smiled sympathetically, her eyes filled with understanding. "Sometimes, we have to trust that our loved ones know what's best for them. And if Y/N believes that Buck is the right guy for her, then maybe we should give him a chance."

Tim sighed heavily, knowing that Lucy was right. "Yeah, maybe you're right," he conceded, his tone resigned. "I just... I don't know what to do."

Lucy squeezed Tim's hand once more, her gaze filled with warmth and understanding. "Just be there for her, Tim," she said softly. "Support her, no matter what. And if Buck makes her happy, then that's all that matters."

Tim nodded in agreement, a sense of determination settling over him. "Yeah, you're right," he said, his voice filled with resolve. "And if Buck hurts her, I'll kill him."

Lucy couldn't help but chuckle at Tim's earnestness, her laughter ringing out in the quiet of the shop. "Yeah, sure tough guy." she teased, a playful twinkle in her eye.

After the chaos of the call had subsided and the shift had come to an end, you and Buck retreated to the comfort of his apartment for a well-deserved date night. The soft glow of string lights cast a warm ambiance over the room, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and comfort.

Buck's place was a reflection of his personality – eclectic and inviting, with an array of knick-knacks and mementos adorning the shelves. The scent of pizza hung in the air, tantalizing your senses as you settled onto his bed, the soft comforter enveloping you in its warmth.

With the pizza box balanced precariously on your laps, you and Buck leaned back against the pillows, your laughter filling the room as you reminisced about the events of the day. The TV flickered to life, casting a soft glow across the room as you settled in to watch an episode of your favorite crime drama.

As the characters onscreen navigated the twists and turns of the case, you found yourselves drawn into the storyline, eagerly discussing each plot twist and revelation as it unfolded. Buck's arm was wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close as you leaned against him, your head resting on his chest.

"This episode is intense," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as the drama unfolded on screen.

Buck nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving the television. "Yeah, but it's nothing compared to the real-life drama." he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his words, grateful for the sacrifices he made to keep others safe. "I know," you said softly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair away from his face. "But I'm glad we can still find moments like this."

As the episode drew to a close, you and Buck found yourselves lost in conversation, discussing everything from your favorite moments in the show to your plans for the future. Despite the late hour, neither of you were ready to part ways, content to linger in each other's company for as long as possible.

"Do you think Tim would mind if you spent the night here?" Buck asked tentatively, his voice laced with concern.

You paused, considering his question carefully. "Maybe," you admitted, biting your lip nervously. "But what Tim doesn't know won't hurt him, right?"

Buck nodded in understanding, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back. "I just want to make sure you're comfortable," he said softly, his gaze filled with love and tenderness.

You leaned into his touch, feeling the weight of his words wash over you like a warm embrace. "I am," you replied, your voice filled with certainty. "With you, I always am."

You settled into Buck's embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. His arms around you felt like home, a safe haven in the midst of life's chaos.

"So, about that call," Buck began, his voice breaking the comfortable silence as he shifted slightly to get more comfortable. "Your brother was practically breathing down our necks the whole time."

You chuckled softly, remembering Tim's overprotective nature all too well. "Yeah, he does that," you replied with a playful smirk. "He thinks he's the big tough cop, watching over his little sister and all."

Buck's laughter filled the room, the sound warm and genuine. "Well, he certainly made his presence known," he replied, his tone filled with amusement. "I think he sent me enough death glares to fill a whole season of crime dramas."

You snorted in amusement, burying your face in his chest to hide your grin. "You should count yourself lucky he didn't pull out his handcuffs," you teased, earning a playful swat on the arm from Buck.

Buck chuckled at your playful remark, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. "Oh, I don't know," he said, his voice tinged with mischief. "I wouldn't mind borrowing them for the night."

You lifted your head from his chest, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Oh, really now?" you replied, a teasing smile dancing on your lips. "And what exactly would you do with my brother's handcuffs, hmm?"

Buck grinned back at you, his gaze smoldering with desire. "Oh, I think you can use your imagination," he said, his voice low and husky.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his suggestive tone, the air between you crackling with anticipation. Leaning in closer, you captured his lips in a heated kiss, your hands tangling in his hair.

Buck responded eagerly, his lips soft and sweet against yours as he deepened the kiss, his hands wandering teasingly over your body. The heat between you intensified, desire simmering just beneath the surface as you lost yourselves in each other's embrace.

And it was one of the most intense and beautiful nights you'd spent with Buck, wrapped in each other's arms, lost in a world of passion and desire. But the fairytale ended just as quickly as it began, the morning sun casting a soft glow across the room as the loud banging on the door shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

Groaning softly, you shifted in Buck's arms, the warmth of his embrace still lingering on your skin. Tangled in bed, naked and happier than usual, you didn't mind the sound at first. But when it grew louder with each passing second, you couldn't help but turn to Buck.

"Please make it stop," you pleaded, feigning a dramatic cry as you buried your face in his chest.

Buck chuckled at your reaction, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before untangling himself from the sheets and reaching for his underwear. "I'll go check it out," he said with a smile, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

You watched Buck move gracefully across the room, his muscles flexing beneath his skin with every step. Despite the annoyance of the situation, you couldn't help but admire the sight of him, the way he exuded confidence and strength even in the most mundane of tasks.

As your boyfriend opened the door, his smile faltered at the sight of your brother standing on the other side. Tim's expression was a mix of concern and frustration, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for answers.

"Buckley," Tim greeted him, his voice tight with worry. "Have you seen my sister?"

Buck's mind raced as he tried to come up with a plausible explanation. "No," he lied, his heart sinking at the realization of the predicament you were both in. "Did something happened?"

Tim's brow furrowed in concern. "She didn't come home last night, and she's not answering her phone," he explained, his voice laced with worry.

Without waiting for permission, Tim urged his way into Buck's place, his eyes narrowing as he spotted you, covered only by the sheets, in Buck's bed.

"Thank you for letting me know you're not dead," Tim said sarcastically, disappointment evident in his voice as he addressed you.

You bristled at his tone, your patience wearing thin. "I don't need to report to you every hour, Tim," you snapped, your voice laced with frustration. "I'm an adult, and what I do is none of your business."

Tim snapped back, his voice sharp with anger. "I didn't asked you to do that, I just need to know you're safe," he insisted, his concern for your safety overriding any sense of courtesy. "I don't care what you're doing or who you're fucking."

You held your ground, meeting Tim's gaze with steely determination. "I'm safe with my boyfriend," you declared, your voice unwavering. "And you need to worry less about me and more about your own life."

Tim's expression softened slightly at your words, but he remained wary. "Your what?" he asked, his tone incredulous.

You sighed, knowing it was time to come clean. "Boy-friend. Lo-ver. Whatever you want to call him," you replied, spelling it out for him.

Tim's eyes widened in surprise, but he remained skeptical. "Does reckless child suit him?" he quipped, his attempt at humor falling flat in the tense atmosphere.

You bristled at his words, feeling a surge of protectiveness toward your boyfriend. "Buck is so much more than that," you began, your voice soft but firm. "He's selfless, caring, and always puts others before himself. He's seen things most people couldn't even imagine, and yet he still manages to find the good in every situation."

You paused, searching for the right words to convey the depth of your feelings for Buck. "He's my rock, Tim," you continued, your voice filled with emotion. "He's there for me when I need him, no matter what. And I love him."

Tim's expression softened as he listened to your words, the tension in the room easing slightly. "I just want you to be safe, Y/N," he said quietly.

Buck stepped in, his presence a comforting reassurance by your side. "I care about Y/N," he interjected, his voice filled with sincerity. "And I wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. I love Y/N."

Tim's gaze remained cautious. "If she gets even slightly hurt for whatever reason, you're the first I'll be hunting down," he warned, his tone serious.

Buck met Tim's gaze head-on, his own resolve unwavering. "Yes, sir," he replied, his voice filled with sarcasm and amusement.

As Tim shook his head in disbelief, still trying to come to terms with the idea of his little sister being in a relationship with a firefighter, he couldn't help but see both you and Buck as two reckless kids in his eyes.

"Kids these days," he muttered under his breath, a mix of exasperation and resignation in his tone.

You and Buck exchanged a knowing glance, unable to suppress a shared smile at Tim's reaction. Once he left Buck's place, the tension in the room dissipated, replaced by a sense of lightness and relief. You and Buck shared a laugh about the absurdity of the situation, finding humor in the unexpected turn of events.

"That's not exactly how I imagined you introducing me to your brother," Buck quipped, his laughter echoing through the room.

You chuckled softly, leaning into Buck's side. "Hey, at least he didn't pull out his handcuffs," you teased, a playful glint in your eye. "I think he likes you."

Buck grinned back at you, his playful air returning in full force. "It's not too late to ask him for the handcuffs," he joked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, swatting playfully at his arm. "Oh, shut up," you laughed, the tension of earlier completely forgotten. "We're gonna be late for work."