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jungkoode · 1 month ago

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死 KKANGPAE | #11 死

† embers in the night †

"Camping trips are not your favorite thing in the world, but if Moon made it a thing, then you might as well swallow it up. Just like you swallow up Jeon's glances across the fire during the truth or dare game, or the way the flame of his cigarette glows amber in the distance and you somehow manage to know it's him.

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⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 6.5k

rating: mature

content: camping trip stuff, grab the flag game, jessi and V bantering, jessi being a queen, friendship, truth or dare, sexual tension, hidden cig encounters, lowkey innuedo

☠ author's note ☠

You bitches. You unhinged little chaos goblins. DID YOU miss you trees, tension, and team-building trauma? Well, here's more of that.

Who would've thought? Not Moon. He just wanted to force the criminal girlies into the woods like it was a corporate retreat gone feral.

This chapter was so much fun to write. Like. The sheer range. One second we’re all sunburnt and pissed, and the next we’re watching Jessi roundhouse-kick a flagpole while V monologues like he’s in Phantom of the Opera (Violent Remix).

I really loved exploring the absolute clownery of this “team bonding” mission while sneaking in all these little character moments. Jessi and V’s rivalry? I LOVE THEM. SIBLING VIBES BUT MAKE IT DEADLY. ALSOOOO JM’s cardigan diplomacy? Flawless. Takama being a soft deadly kiwi?? I weep.

And then there’s Jeon.

Brooding. Smoking. Being allergic to feelings like it’s his job. (Which, to be fair, it kind of is.)

That last scene?? Baby girl. Baby DARLING. If you didn’t feel that in your knees, go reread.

Also. Also. Can we take a moment to appreciate the absolute tomfoolery of “Never Have I Ever�� in a group full of criminals?? Like—everyone’s drinking. Everyone’s unwell. AD’s collecting blackmail. JM’s watching V with that “I’m not touching you but I’m thinking about it” gaze.

And Y/N?? Dropping that bomb about attraction like the menace she is. Girlie took a sip of that chaos juice and said “bet.” Queen behavior.

Anyway. All I’m saying is... get ready for next chapter. Hihihi.

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The sun is being a real bitch today.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead for what feels like the millionth time, cursing whoever decided winter should feel like summer.

Moon, that conniving bastard.

His brilliant idea of "team bonding" in the mountains somehow got RM's stamp of approval, and now here you are, hiking up this godforsaken trail with the rest of Kkangpae's finest.

The gravel crunches under your boots as you trudge along. Something about seeing each other's "true colors" and "building trust," Moon had said. You snort. Leave it to him to turn a camping trip into some deep psychological experiment.

Up ahead, Jeon's leading the pack like the brooding commander he is. You watch him navigate the path with that focused intensity of his, all broad shoulders and purposeful strides. Everyone else keeps their distance—smart of them, really. His storm-cloud aura is doing that thing again, the one that makes the air feel electric and h̶o̶t̶ dangerous.

V bounces around near him like some deranged mountain sprite, which would be funny if it wasn't so unnerving. One second he's scaling rocks like some kind of professional climber, the next he's pelting people with pine cones, cackling like a kid on a sugar rush.

The contrast between him and Jeon is almost comical—darkness and chaos, wrapped up in two very different packages.

"Watch your step here," Flower calls out from behind you, her voice steady and sure.

You glance back to see her expertly maneuvering around a particularly treacherous patch of loose rocks. She makes everything look effortless, even hiking in this heat.

God, teach you her ways.

Jessi's voice cuts through suddenly: "Keep up the pace, we're not here for sightseeing!"

You can't help but grin as you watch her march ahead, red ponytail swinging like a battle flag. Even in hiking gear, she manages to look fierce as hell. Her division members trail behind her like ducklings, trying (and failing) to match her energy.

Something about seeing everyone out here, away from the castle's shadows and politics, feels weirdly raw. Real. You're all still the same dangerous people, just... dustier. Sweatier.

Maybe that was Moon's point all along.

Sneaky bastard.

The late afternoon sun bathes everything in gold, and you can't help but snort at the sight before you. It's absurdly funny seeing Kkangpae's finest trudging through nature like some twisted corporate retreat.

AD looks particularly out of place, blonde hair catching the light like a beacon as he leads his team of tech nerds through the wilderness. They're all following him like lost puppies, probably experiencing their first dose of vitamin D in months. You notice how his casual slouch doesn't quite mask the way his eyes keep scanning the treeline. Old habits die hard, huh?

"For fuck's sake, watch where you're stepping!" J-Hope's voice cuts through the air, his usual crankiness making a brief appearance as one of his medics nearly trips over a root.

Still, there's something different about him out here.

Less Dr. Jekyll, more... well, still Dr. Jekyll, but maybe after a cup of chamomile tea.

His team's got enough medical supplies to handle a small apocalypse, which is probably smart given this crowd.

And then there's JM, floating through it all like some ethereal woodland creature in his oversized cardigan. His financial team looks hilariously out of their element, but they're managing to keep up, probably because JM's presence is as calming as ever.

Though you'd bet good money those designer shoes aren't going to survive this trip.

The path finally opens up to a view that actually makes you pause.

Damn.

The valley stretches out below, all misty blues and greens, and for a moment, you forget you're part of a criminal organization of sorts. Everyone else seems to feel it too—this weird, peaceful vibe that has no business existing among a bunch of gang members.

"Alright, let's set up camp here." Moon's voice breaks the spell, all business as usual. But even his sunglasses can't hide the fact that he's actually enjoying this ridiculous situation.

You watch as everyone scrambles to follow his orders, divisions mixing like some bizarre summer camp activity—and it's kinda funny, seeing assassins and hackers arguing over how to pitch a tent.

Moon clears his voice like a professor about to announce a pop quiz. "Alright, everyone!"

You fight back an eye roll. Of course. The camping trip is not but some structured learning experience.

"Before we set up for the night, we have an activity." There's something almost gleeful in his tone that makes you nervous. "It's a team-building exercise, but with a Kkangpae twist."

Oh great. You watch as everyone exchanges looks, probably sharing your thought that nothing good ever comes from the words "team-building" and "twist" in the same sentence.

"We're going to split into mixed teams," Moon explains, pushing his round glasses up his nose. "Your task is to find and retrieve a flag hidden somewhere in this area. First team back wins."

You catch Jeon's subtle shift in posture—that slight straightening of his shoulders that means his competitive side just woke up. Meanwhile, V's grinning like someone told him there's cookies, which is honestly terrifying given his track record with "games."

"You'll need to use your skills cooperatively," Moon adds, like he's reading from some corporate manual. "This exercise is about strategy, teamwork, and understanding each other's strengths."

"Sounds like fun," Jessi cuts in, hands on her hips. "But what's the catch, Moon?"

Moon's lips curl into what might actually be a grin—holy shit, someone document this rare occurrence—before he drops the bomb: "You must stick together at all times, no one can be left behind. And remember, the forest can be deceptive. Stay alert." He pauses for dramatic effect. "Whoever wins gets to choose sleeping tent and partner."

Well, fuck.

The clearing erupts into motion as people start grouping up, and suddenly you're caught in the middle of what feels like the world's most dangerous game of musical chairs.

Your team's a weird mix, but maybe that's the point.

There's Jessi, JM, and Takama—the powerhouse trio you actually know—plus a handful of faces you usually just pass in the castle hallways.

There's Hyun from Medical, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else but manages to radiate competence anyway. Seojoon from Cyber's got that twitchy energy all AD's people seem to share, like he's searching for a WiFi signal in this godforsaken forest. And then there's Minji from Stealth, who moves like she's made of smoke—seriously, how does she make hiking look graceful?

"Okay, team." Jessi's already taking charge, because of course she is. Her ponytail swings as she surveys your group like a general reviewing troops. "We've got a diverse set of skills here, and we're going to use them to win this."

JM hums in agreement, somehow making his oversized cardigan look appropriate for a hike. "Let's keep communication open and clear."

"The flag's probably hidden somewhere difficult," Takama cuts in. You've seen him around Jeon enough to recognize that tactical mind at work. "We should start in the denser areas."

The others chime in with their two cents—Hyun promising to play medic (thanks, but let's not need that), Seojoon muttering about search grids like this is some kind of programming problem, and Minji suggesting stealth like she's on an actual mission.

You nod along, trying not to roll your eyes at how seriously everyone's taking this glorified scavenger hunt. "Alright, we've got a plan. Let's just... not die in the process?"

Your ragtag team heads into the forest, and wow, Moon really picked the worst terrain possible. The ground's basically trying to trip you with every step, and these bushes are definitely winning the war against your clothes. But between Seojoon's weirdly effective grid system and Minji's silent-assassin routine, you're actually making decent progress.

Maybe this won't be a total disaster after all.

You can't help but grin as you listen to Jessi and JM's back-and-forth.

"You know," Jessi starts, that trademark smirk of hers making an appearance, "I'm not one for all this sneaking around. If it were up to me, I'd charge through these woods, make a beeline for that flag, and dare anyone to try and stop me."

JM chuckles, and you swear you can feel the calming effect it has on everyone. "That's exactly why we're here, Jessi. To learn different approaches. Besides, subtlety can be just as powerful as brute force, don't you think?"

"Maybe there's some strength in silence," Jessi admits, nodding at Minji. "But come on, it's hard to deny the rush of a good brawl."

"I get that," JM says, his eyes scanning the trees like he's trying to find a hidden Excel spreadsheet or something. "But we're a team. This is about more than just strength. It's about using our heads, too."

Jessi lets out a laugh that probably scares off half the wildlife in a five-mile radius. She claps JM on the back, and you wince, half-expecting him to topple over. But nope, he doesn't even flinch.

Guess that cardigan's hiding some muscle.

"That's why you're here, Jimin," Jessi grins. "You keep us grounded and thinking. But if we do come across another team, I'm not holding back!"

"You wouldn't be Jessi if you did," JM responds with a smile that's way too sweet for a guy who probably knows twenty-five ways to launder money through a lemonade stand. "Just make sure to keep that energy until we find the flag. We'll need it."

You watch as they fall into step together, and it's kind of... nice? In a weird, 'we're-all-criminals-but-hey-found-family' kind of way.

"You're the calm to my storm, Chimchim," Jessi says, and oh, this is the first time you're seeing her softer side. "But let's not forget, we've got Chaewon in another team and there's no way I'm letting her beat us."

JM grins, and you swear you can see the gears turning in that big brain of his. "Not a chance. We've got this." His eyes flick to Jessi's feet. "Just watch your step, though. Can't have you charging off and spraining an ankle. We need you in top form, Jessi."

You bite back a snort. Leave it to JM to be all caring while also low-key telling Jessi to chill the fuck out.

As you trudge along behind them, you can't help but wonder what the other teams are up to. E̶s̶p̶e̶c̶i̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶J̶e̶o̶n̶'s.

Not that you care. Nope. Not at all.

Your throat feels like sandpaper, and you realize with growing irritation that your water bottle is probably sitting pretty back at camp, completely useless to you right now. Great going, genius.

You're in the middle of cursing your own stupidity when Takama falls into step beside you. For Jeon's second-in-command, he's surprisingly... not terrifying?

"You look like you could use this," he says, offering his canteen with a smile that actually reaches his eyes. It's weird seeing such a genuine expression on someone from the Assassination Division.

"Thanks, Takama." You accept the water, trying not to look as desperately thirsty as you feel. "I can't believe I left mine back at camp."

The water hits different when you're this thirsty. You try not to chug it like some dehydrated gremlin, but it's a close call.

"It happens to the best of us," he says, and there's something almost kind in his voice. "Just remember to stay hydrated. We've got a long day ahead of us."

You hand back his canteen, feeling weirdly touched by the gesture. "I owe you one."

"No worries. We're all here to look out for each other, right?"

He says it so easily, like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like we're not all part of a criminal organization where trust usually comes with a price tag.

It hits you then—Takama's actually nice. Not in that fake, calculated way some gang members are, but genuinely considerate. The kind of person who notices when someone's struggling and helps without making a big deal out of it.

You watch him scan the forest ahead, radiating both competence and awareness at the same time. You can't help but think it's almost funny how he ended up as Jeon's right hand—they're like night and day. Where Jeon's all storm clouds and sharp edges, Takama's more like... well, a really deadly teddy bear with a shaved head?

A soft kiwi, maybe?

What even is this gang anymore?

Hyun's voice interrupts your inner chatter. "Eyes peeled, everyone. We're approaching a likely area."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. No shit, Sherlock.

And then the trees loom overhead, casting weird shadows that make every bush look like a potential hiding spot. You're starting to think Moon's got a sadistic streak, making you play hide and seek in this green maze.

Minji glides forward like some forest nymph, graceful and silent. It's almost annoying how effortlessly she moves. You, on the other hand, feel about as stealthy as a drunk elephant.

"We're making good progress," Seojoon mutters, probably to his imaginary friend.

The guy's been muttering to himself this whole time. You're half convinced he's got a spreadsheet running in his head.

The sun's starting to dip, painting everything in that Instagram-worthy golden hour light. It'd be pretty if it didn't also mean you're running out of time, because where the fuck is the goddamn flag?

You all keep moving together until Jessi throws up her hand like she's hailing a taxi in the middle of the woods.

"You hear that?" she whispers, and there's this glint in her eye that screams 'trouble'.

You strain your ears and—oh. Oh shit. That's definitely the sound of people nearby. Your heart does this weird little skip, part 'fuck yeah' and part 'oh fuck'.

"We move quiet, we move fast," Jessi hisses. "Remember, they're not expecting us. We've got the element of surprise. Let's use it."

You all nod like a bunch of bobbleheads and spread out. You try your best to channel your inner Minji, but you're pretty sure you look more like a constipated ninja.

Jessi peeks over some bushes, and bam—there it is.

The flag.

Your golden ticket to a decent night's sleep and maybe, just maybe, a chance to stick it to Jeon.

Your heart's pounding so hard you're surprised it hasn't alerted the other team.

This is it.

You watch as Jessi's eyes narrow, and you know that look. She's not just seeing what's there—she's looking for all the ways this could go wrong.

Then it happens. A rustle in the trees that's definitely not the wind, and before you can process it, you spot him. V, looking like some demented forest creature, perched in a tree like he's auditioning for a horror movie.

The moment Jessi and V lock eyes, the whole atmosphere shifts. Because fuck. You've seen enough of the chiefs' competitive bullshit to know this is about to get wild.

They both move at once, like someone fired a starting gun. V launches himself from the tree with that unnatural grace of his—so that's where Minji's gotten it from huh?—while Jessi... well, Jessi does what Jessi does best: something absolutely batshit crazy.

Instead of going for the flag like a normal person, she fucking roundhouse kicks the pole. The flag goes flying through the air like some patriotic frisbee, and you have to bite back a laugh because of course she'd pull something like this.

The look V and Jessi share is almost funny—like two cats who just realized they're both after the same mouse. Although it seems to be accompanied by this weird respect, probably buried under layers of competitive spite.

They both land, and V's got that smile on his face. You know the one—that 'I'm about to be an absolute shit' smile that you're really starting to associate with him.

"Well, well," he drawls, brushing off his hands like he didn't just parkour through the forest. "I must say, Jessi, you still know how to make a man's heart race."

Jessi straightens up, and you can practically feel the eye roll coming. "Please, V. The day you can outmaneuver me is the day the Council of Nine turns into a knitting circle."

V's chuckle is low and lazy, like he has all the time in the world. His grin stretches wide, equal parts mischief and provocation.

"But isn't that what makes it so fun?" He gestures between himself and Jessi with a flourish. "You, all brute force and chaos. Me, dripping with finesse. A perfect match, don't you think?"

Jessi crosses her arms, utterly unimpressed. Her gaze could cut steel, but V? He's eating it up.

"Finesse? Is that what we're calling your sneaky little stunts now? Sounds like bullshit with extra steps to me."

The air suddenly turns... weird. Like it's cracking with adrenaline and... whatever the hell their dynamic is. Though it's clear neither is willing to flinch, and the rest of you might as well not exist.

"Ah, but—" V bows theatrically, one arm sweeping out like he's on a stage instead of about to throw hands. "Subtlety is an art form. And me? I'm nothing short of a masterpiece. You know, not everyone gets the honor of sparring with the Stealth Chief."

Jessi barks out a laugh so sharp it echoes through the trees, momentarily silencing the usual rustle of leaves.

"Stealth Chief? Is that what you call scurrying around like some feral house cat? Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but sneaking isn't exactly fighting. It's just running away in slow motion."

Her stance shifts slightly, weight rolling to the balls of her feet. It's the kind of posture that makes you take a cautious step back, because you've heard of Jessi when she's motivated, and it's not pretty—for the idiot on the receiving end.

V doesn't even blink. Instead, his smirk deepens, resilient as ever.

"Coward, hmm? That's what sore losers say when they can't keep up." He tuts softly, shaking his head as if she's the one being unreasonable.

Oh, boy.

You can almost feel Jessi's hackles rise. Her eyes narrow into slits, a dangerous glint stealing across her face.

"The only finesse you're gonna have is figuring out how to pick your teeth out of the dirt, pretty boy."

It's like the temperature drops a few degrees—or maybe it's just the shadow of their looming chaos. Everyone else stays frozen, like one wrong move will get them caught in the crossfire, and honestly? You wouldn't blame them.

V circles her slowly, scornful expression still intact, obviously. But there's an edge to it now, playful but keen, like the blade of a knife.

"Oh, Jess," his voice turns mocking, "I'd consider you competition... if we were in the same league."

And that's it. That's the match to her gasoline fire.

Jessi lunges first—of course she does. She's all instinct, fast and explosive, and it's honestly terrifying how much energy she has left even after the trek through the forest. Her feint is quick, purposeful, a snap to the left designed to bait him.

But V's not a rookie. He doesn't take the bait. Instead, he stays planted, watching her with that maddening patience of his, tracking her every move like she's easy to figure out.

"Come on, V," Jessi taunts, her voice bright. "What's the matter? Scared I'll knock that smirk off your face?"

V leans back slightly, just enough to dodge her next swipe. He looks far too calm, that smirk of his like a permanent fixture.

"Oh, Jessi, Jessi, Jessi." His voice is mockingly soothing, like he's trying to calm a rabid dog. "I'd actually have to notice you to be scared."

You don't know whether to laugh or take cover. Probably both.

V springs into action like some unholy mixture of a cat and a ninja. This is the first time you've seen him fight, and honestly you're not entirely sure he's actually trying.

Maybe it's just the pure glee radiating off him as he dances around Jessi's attacks.

Jessi's not making it easy for him. She's fierce, determined—and girl's got stamina for days. But V? The bastard's treating this like his own personal performance art, ducking and weaving like he does this while eating a bagel for breakfast.

"Come on, Joo," V taunts, narrowly avoiding Jessi's grab. "Getting slow in your old age?"

"I'll show you slow, you little shit!"

Suddenly V feints left and Jessi takes the bait, lunging forward with enough force to probably knock out a bear. But V's already spinning away, cackling as he dives for the flag.

His fingers brush the fabric, and for a second, you think he's got it. But Jessi? She's not Logistics Chief for nothing. She hooks her foot around his ankle—dirty move, you love it—sending him slightly off balance. It's not much, but it's enough.

They both grab the flag at almost the same moment, and suddenly it's a weird game of tug-of-war mixed with what looks like interpretive dance. V's got the advantage of height, but Jessi's got pure stubborn determination on her side.

"Let go, you overgrown weed!" Jessi grunts, yanking hard.

"Ladies first," V purrs, and you see the exact moment Jessi's eye twitches.

She does something then—some crazy mix of a twist and a roll that makes you dizzy just watching—and suddenly V's grip slips. The flag comes free, and Jessi stumbles back, barely keeping her balance but clutching her prize like it's made of gold.

V's jaw falls, and it's like he's about to curse her out.

But then, he simply straightens up, brushing dirt from his clothes with exaggerated care. His hair's a mess and there's a leaf stuck to his shoulder, but he's still grinning.

"Well played, Jessi." The words come out warm, genuine. "You've still got the moves."

Jessi's victory dance consists mainly of waving the flag in V's face. "Not too shabby yourself, pretty boy. But let's not forget who the winner is here."

You watch them, these two ridiculous powerhouses of Kkangpae, playfully shoving each other like actual siblings.

Maybe this is exactly what Moon wanted you to see.

The walk back to camp feels like a victory parade.

If... victory parades involved a bunch of criminals trampling through the woods.

Jessi's leading the charge, waving that flag like she just conquered a small country.

The clearing comes into view, and suddenly you're all celebrities. The other teams are gathered around, some actually cheering, others looking like they just bit into a lemon. You catch a few eye rolls—sore losers much?

"And then—" Jessi's voice booms across as she launches into her dramatic retelling. She demonstrates her kick, nearly taking out a poor sapling in the process. "—the flag was mine!"

"Ours." JM corrects.

You bite back a laugh. Trust Jessi to turn a game of capture the flag into an epic saga.

"That's my girl!" Chaewon hollers from the sidelines, looking like a proud mom at a soccer game. She bounces over to Jessi, and they fall into their usual rhythm of playful jabs and inside jokes.

The attention shifts to JM, who's scanning the crowd intently—but before he can even open his mouth, V materializes next to him like some kind of demented jack-in-the-box.

"Come on, JM," V purrs, draping himself over JM's shoulders. "You know you want to bunk with me. I'll keep the monsters away."

JM sighs, but you catch that little smile he's trying to hide.

"I suppose someone needs to make sure you don't terrorize the entire camp." He shakes his head, fond exasperation written all over his face. "Fine, you win."

Now it's your turn. You glance around the clearing, weighing your options. Your eyes land on Yunjin, and something in your chest settles.

After all this chaos, her gentle presence feels like finding a quiet corner in a noisy room.

"I choose Yunjin," you say, and watch her face light up like a sunrise. "We'll take a two-person tent."

"I'd like that," she replies softly, and you know you made the right choice.

At least someone in this camp won't try to murder you in your sleep.

Hopefully.

The sun finally gives up its assault as evening rolls in.

Everyone's hustling around, pitching tents like they actually know what they're doing (spoiler: most don't), while someone gets a bonfire going. You find yourself plopped down next to Yunjin, watching the flames dance.

The clearing's alive with chatter and laughter—gang members discussing random stuff like normal citizens.

You notice from your periphery that Chaewon and Jessi are cackling about something, probably roasting someone (metaphorically, for once).

Their friendship hits different when you see them like this, all guard down and genuine.

Not far from them, V's got JM trapped in what looks like the world's most animated conversation. He's all dramatic hand gestures and shit-eating grins while JM just sits there, dropping these little zingers that have V practically bouncing.

The fire crackles, bottles clink, and for a moment it's like... you're at some normal camping trip.

If normal meant with your dysfunctional criminal found family thing.

"Alright, folks!" V slaps his thigh like some demented camp counselor, grinning like he just thought of the best worst idea ever. "How about we spice things up a bit? Never Have I Ever—you drink if you've done it."

The response is a mix of "hell yeah" and "oh god no," but you know everyone's going to play anyway. That's just how V's chaos works—it's like a black hole, sucking everyone into its orbit.

AD shifts against his log, looking way too comfortable for someone sitting on literal dirt.

"This should be good," he drawls, and you can practically see the blackmail material forming in his brain.

"Just remember," J-Hope cuts in, trying (and failing) to sound responsible, "I'm not drinking tonight."

You notice how AD's eyes flick to him for just a second, unspoken words being thrown into the space between them.

You don't have enough time to decipher it though, because soon enough everyone is grabbing their drink (or in J-Hope's case, what looks suspiciously like apple juice).

This is either going to be the best team-building exercise ever or the start of World War III.

"Never have I ever..." V drawls, and you just know he's about to say something stupid. "Gotten a tattoo I regretted the next day."

A few drinks go up, and AD mutters something about a phoenix that sounds suspiciously like a drunk decision gone wrong. You catch J-Hope trying not to laugh at that—probably because he's the one who had to deal with the infection afterward.

The game picks up speed, stories getting bolder with each round. Your brain's starting to feel fuzzy around the edges when it's your turn.

"Never have I ever..." You tap your bottle against your chin, grinning. "Bailed someone out of jail before sunrise."

The response is instant—bottles going up everywhere like some weird criminal toast. Jeon takes a particularly long drink, and you can't help but wonder how many times he's had to rescue his disaster squad from lockup.

"Never have I ever," AD announces, shooting J-Hope that shit-eating grin of his, "been caught in a ridiculous, bright yellow suit that could be seen from space.

J-Hope doesn't miss a beat. "Never have I ever walked into a glass door because I was too busy admiring my own reflection."

The clearing erupts with laughter, and AD shoves him like he wants to murder him. You swear these two are one bickering session away from either killing each other or adopting each other.

Then it's your leader's turn, and she confesses to some wild midnight adventure that has Jessi cackling, and then Jessi drops the bomb about her secret karaoke obsession—which weirdly, surprises nobody.

The alcohol's doing its job, making everything feel warm and loose, when V suddenly turns to you. His eyes are glinting with mischief in the firelight, and you know you're about to be targeted.

"Your turn," he purrs, and everyone's eyes swing your way. "Let's hear something juicy."

Oh, it's on.

Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's the fire's dancing in your vision, making faces blur like some abstract painting—but suddenly you've got what might be either the best or worst idea ever.

You lean forward, propping your elbows on your knees, and oh—maybe sitting up so fast wasn't the smartest move. Still, you've committed now.

"Never have I ever," you drawl, feeling particularly bold (or stupid), "found someone in this circle attractive."

The silence that follows is delicious.

Then, the clearing erupts in laughter and the telling clink of bottles.

Your eyes scan the circle, catching all those little tells—the shifted gazes, the not-so-subtle glances. And then—

Oh.

Across the fire, Jeon moves. It's subtle—barely anything at all. But you see it. The way his dark eyes find yours, steady and unwavering, even as he lifts his bottle to his lips.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Your breath catches, just for a moment, before you collect yourself. The fire crackles as if mocking the heat suddenly pooling in your chest. Goddamn him.

Yunjin's trying (and failing) to be subtle about her giggles, taking the tiniest sip from her bottle. Next to her, Eunchae's practically glowing, her laugh carrying across the fire as she drinks.

Kazuha makes drinking look like some fancy tea ceremony, all grace and poise, while Sakura's grinning like she's got secrets to spare. They share this look that makes you wonder if there's a story there.

And then; there's Takama. His face does this thing where it's completely blank before he drinks, but there's this little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth that says he's in on some joke the rest of you aren't.

V, though? He doesn't even hesitate. "Looks like we've got a crowd full of admirers," he says dramatically, raising his bottle like he's toasting to a room full of fans.

Your eyes catch how they flick toward JM for just a split second, and well—that's interesting.

Laughter ripples through the group again, and the tension eases, though your heart hasn't quite caught up yet.

It's still hammering in your chest, louder than it has any right to be, especially with Jeon sitting there, calm as a fucking statue.

You dare another glance at him, only to find his eyes still on you, half-lidded but watching.

Always watching.

The firelight dances across his face, catching on the silver of his lip ring, the sharp line of his jaw. You can't read him, and that pisses you off more than it probably should.

"Think you're clever, huh?" V says, pulling you back to the moment. His voice is teasing, but there's that signature chaos behind it, something wild and unapologetic. "Careful, sweetheart. Questions like that just set the wolves loose."

You smirk, forcing your gaze away from Jeon. "Good thing I don't mind wolves."

V laughs, throwing his head back dramatically as if you've just made his entire night. Meanwhile, Jeon hasn't moved, hasn't said a word. But you swear you can feel the weight of his presence pressing against you.

Like the goddamn hurricane he is.

You don't miss how JM takes a slow, deliberate sip from his bottle, and that little smirk playing on his lips. His eyes flick briefly toward V before darting away.

Huh.

"Guess we're all a bit fucked up, huh?" Jessi announces with 0 subtlety, taking a long drink and throwing a wink across the fire.

J-Hope leans back against his log, grinning despite his apple juice. "What can we say? We're a good-looking bunch."

Coming from anyone else, it might sound conceited. But J-Hope manages to make it sound like he's sharing some universal truth.

AD just sits there with that infuriating eyebrow raised, looking like he's cataloging every reaction for future reference—and the way his lips curve up at the corners... Yeah, he's probably acquiring blackmail material.

The game keeps going, and you all keep drinking. Everyone redoubles on the alcohol, guards slip a little bit and then the fire's dying down, but the energy around the circle is still very much present.

You blame the booze for the way your skin prickles every time you feel Jeon's gaze slide over to you.

Not that you're keeping track.

The crowd around the fire thins out as the night deepens.

A few stragglers remain—Yunjin and Eunchae huddled together like gossiping schoolgirls, while Kazuha and Sakura stare into the flames like they're trying to divine their futures or something.

You sit there, watching the fire die down, feeling that pleasant buzz from earlier starting to fade.

Then you spot it—a tiny orange glow in the darkness, like a misplaced star.

Cigarette.

And there's only one brooding asshole who'd be lurking in the shadows at this hour.

You get up, picking your way through what feels like a minefield of sleeping bags and empty bottles. You make it through some trees and bushes, and an owl hoots somewhere in the distance, probably judging your life choices.

Then he's there.

Jeon.

Standing there like some noir film character, all broad shoulders and moody silence.

The cigarette between his lips is the only thing giving him away in the darkness.

Dramatic bastard.

"Smoking again?" You try to keep your voice casual, but it comes out softer than intended. Maybe it's the lingering alcohol, or maybe it's just... him.

He doesn't even flinch—of course he doesn't. Mr. Perfect Assassin probably knew you were coming before you did.

He takes a long drag before answering, smoke curling from his lips.

"Yeah." His voice is rough, low. "Had to hide from J-Hope. He'd have my ass for this."

"And here I thought you quit." You lean against his tree, close enough to smell that addictive mix of tobacco and him.

Pine and wood and petrichor.

He finally turns to look at you, and fuck—the way the cigarette's glow catches his features should be illegal.

That smirk doesn't help either.

"Old habits die hard."

"Bad for your health, you know." You're not sure why you're still talking, but something about this moment feels... different. Significant.

His laugh is dark, barely there. "Ain't much about our lives that's good for health, is there?"

Silence falls between you, like tiny droplets of water during a sizzle.

You both know what this is—what it isn't.

You watch him take another drag, mesmerized by the way his lips wrap around the filter. The only sounds are some distant snoring and the occasional hoot of that judgmental owl from earlier.

"You ever think about quitting? For real, I mean?" The question slips out before you can stop it. Blame it on the lingering alcohol, or maybe just the way the moonlight catches on his lip ring.

Jeon rolls the cigarette between his fingers, and you try not to stare at the way they move.

Really try.

"Sometimes," he murmurs.

And god, his voice shouldn't sound like that—all gravely and burnt at the edges from the nicotine dragging down his throat.

"But it's like this—" He gestures vaguely at the darkness around you, at your whole fucked-up world. "It's a part of me. Even if it's not the best part."

Your eyes drift to his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, lingering maybe a second too long on his lips as they part to release another cloud of smoke. There's something dangerous about the way he looks right now, something that has you holding yourself back from doing something stupid.

Something really stupid.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach out and snatch the cigarette right from between his lips. His expression shifts from surprise to something else, something you can't quite grasp. His mouth stays slightly parted, just for a moment, before he catches himself.

You bring the cigarette to your own lips, taking a slow drag. The filter's still warm from his mouth. You hold his gaze as you inhale, watching the way his eyes track the movement.

"Look at you," he finally says, voice rough and low, "preaching about bad habits."

You exhale, letting the smoke curl between you like a secret. "Consider it a public service. Just looking out for you."

You can't help the smirk that tugs at your lips.

He leans in—fuck—close enough that you can smell pine and rain and tobacco.

"By taking on the bad habits yourself?" His tone is teasing, but his eyes... his eyes are something else entirely.

Another drag, slower this time.

You're playing with fire and you know it.

"Someone's got to make sure you don't fall off the wagon." Your voice comes out lower than intended, smoke dancing around your words. "Might as well be me."

Your chest burns, and you wonder if it's really just the nicotine.

Dangerous territory, babe.

You watch as Jeon's eyes track the cigarette between your fingers. He doesn't ask for it back, and somehow that feels more intimate than if he had.

"You're a hell of a contradiction, you know that?" His voice is soft, barely there, but it hits you like a punch to the gut.

You can't help the wry grin that tugs at your lips.

"Aren't we all, in this game?"

The question hovers between you like the smoke curling up from the cigarette still nestled between your lips.

Loaded.

With all the things you're not supposed to say, not supposed to want.

His laugh, when it comes, is low, obscure. Utterly dangerous. It does things to your chest that you refuse to examine too closely.

"We are," he admits, and fuck, the way he's looking at you makes your skin feel too tight. "But some of us are better at playing the part than others."

You pull the cig out of your mouth, roll it between your fingers, watching the smoke curl up toward the stars.

Anything to avoid drowning in those hurricane eyes of his.

"And which one of us isn't playing their part right now?"

You catch the way his jaw tenses, the slight shift as he leans back. It's subtle, but you think you're starting to learn to read these tiny tells of his. The way he holds himself, like he's physically stopping from moving closer.

"We're both walking a thin line here," he murmurs, and there's something in his voice—exhaustion maybe, or resignation. "You know the rules as well as I do."

"I do." The words taste bitter on your tongue. "Doesn't mean I have to like them."

Doesn't mean you have to like the way he makes you want to break them. Squash them. Fuck them.

F̶u̶c̶k̶ h̶i̶m̶.̶

He watches you like he's trying to memorize every detail, and you hate how it makes you feel exposed.

Like you're simply made of glass and he can see right through to the mess underneath.

"We don't get to pick and choose which rules to follow." His voice drops so low you almost miss it. "Not without consequences."

Consequences. It's a horrible word and you suddenly can't help hating it. Fucking stupid consequences.

You take one last drag from the cigarette, letting the burn ground you. It's almost funny how that tiny ember matches the heat that floods your system whenever he looks at you like that.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it spinning into the darkness, watching it burst into sparks before fading to nothing.

"Then I guess we're good at playing by the rules, aren't we?" Your voice stays steady, even if your pulse is doing gymnastics in your throat.

His eyes follow the dead cigarette's arc before landing back on you, and fuck—there's something in that look that makes your chest ache.

"Yeah," he says, and you catch that hint of... something in his voice. Like regret, maybe. Or defeat. "We're the best."

It's almost funny how these stolen moments have become your new normal—these little pockets of time where you both pretend you're not thinking about breaking every single atom of space between both of you.

But rules are rules, and Jeon... well, Jeon follows them like his life depends on it.

And maybe, it does.

Too bad his dedication to the rules doesn't make him any less fucking attractive.

goal: 160 notes. If we don’t hit it, I’m putting you all in Moon’s next trust fall workshop. With V as your partner. Good luck.

next | index

🔪 taglist 🔪

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @redcherrykook @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @rpwprpwprpwprw @jimineepaboya @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

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biasbuck · 3 months ago

Text

BiAsBuck’s ficrec frenzy

Hi everyone, after a little bit of a break I'm back for 2025 with a new rec post of fic that I've read and loved over the last month! Delighting in the hiatus spec fic, thank you to all the authors for making winter hibernation so much fun. As always you can find previous rec lists here.

25 January 2025

like a lonely seabird by organyx is a 55k one shot that picks up directly from the buddie realtor scene, with Buck spiralling and Eddie trying to follow his heart and find joy, just with a bit of a push to get there. It's beautifully characterised, and a rollercoaster spanning to El Paso and back again, with vital conversations. With excellent teenage Chris characterisation and inclusion. There's a call mishap that had me gasping, and an amazing coming together with mutual understanding. Gorgeous, romantic and satisfying!

if you like it weird, i like it strange by @pairofraggedclaws I am definitely a greedy reader of everything Lou writes! These stories have such a fun indulgent and sexy writing style and the way Buck and Eddie get hot under the collar is incredibly enticing. Here we see them have some fun with orgasm control and a dream inspired fantasy of Buck's set at work. And in the equally gorgeous TRUST! we have Eddie who is particularly sensitive and insecure about it, however Buck has a fantastic time showing him just how they can work with it in their favour. It's a lovely fic that shows partnership and play in a both heartwarming and hot dynamic that suits them so well.

The Whale Fall Principle by @fastcardotmp3 another author whose work I've been delighting in, The Whale Fall Principle is an alternate timeline fic in which Daniel Buckley survives childhood, and it shifts the dynamics of the Buckley siblings forever. Daniel takes on some of the Buck we know and loves escapism needs, he's the one who travels to find himself, whilst Buck is left behind with the sense of responsibility and pressure of being the saviour baby, meanwhile Maddie is trying to keep her brothers together in her life. Eddie is simply trying to understand Buck and where he fits in to their lives. This is such a beautiful, thoughtful, heartbreaking and uplifting fic. I could talk about it for hours. And I also loved:

carefully, I was going to live by fastcardotmp3 - in which Buck finds out about Eddie's will after the shooting....but not from Eddie. Thrust into guardianship, he finds his way with Chris, whilst grieving for his best friend who is in a coma....but after two years, Eddie is waking up, and for him, no time has passed at all. Told in dual POV, each alternate chapter explores Eddie's perspective from two years on and pairs it with Buck's from the time Eddie slips away from him, and eventually, they meet in the middle. It's complicated and full of love, hurt and healing.

paving hell with energy by Elgney ahhhh an 8b spec fic that fits with MY 8b spec re the serial killer based on that trailer...'Buck is having a hard time dealing with Eddie's impending move to El Paso and resorts to some Buck 1.0-style coping mechanisms. Unfortunately for everybody, this backfires in spectacular fashion. Especially for Eddie, who waited until now to realize he was in love with his best friend.' Heed trigger warnings, but I love the sibling dynamics with Buck and Maddie here, and the way the author has nailed the character voices in the 118 banter. Dark and twisty!

Where the Light Enters by @beecauseevan is SUCH a beautifully written and heartfelt story dealing with Eddie's religious trauma. 'Chris is 800 miles away, and Eddie's house feels emptier than ever. As always, Buck is right there, ready to have his back, to catch him without hesitation if he falls...This is fine, until it isn't. Until Eddie finds himself drawn to Buck in ways he never expected—ways that might not be so new at all.' I'm in awe of the way the narrative threads weave together and peel back the layers to let the light into Eddie's story. This one has so much vulnerability, it was healing to read.

and longingly i long by @effervescentwolf explores established relationship Buddie and a touch starved Buck, who craves being held and touching and revelling in the physicality of their love. And Eddie, who he learns feels similarly. I love how the craving and need is written here, it's powerful and sympathetic, and the eventual communication and asking for what you want unfolds so well.

Death Becomes Him by @kungfunurse was such a cool way of examining the 118 (and Buck specifically's) many brushes with death! 'Each time Buck dies, something in him changes. After all, every change is a sort of death, and death is the ultimate change. Or, what does the supernatural look like in the "real world"?' Such a clever character examination, like Buck's lightning math superpowers on acid! And how it affects those closest to him, and his developing relationship with Eddie, with some questions answered and some left to linger enticingly.

A Life For A Life by icewhisper RAVIIIIIII! 'The first time Ravi met Evan Buckley, he never got his name. He only knew him as the man who pulled him onto a firetruck during a tsunami before he jumped back into the water after his son. Five years later, in a collapsed building, it’s Buck who needs saving and Ravi gets a chance to return the favor.' An excellent team based call gone wrong fic, this is Buddie in the background with Ravi and Buck friendship at heart, and it's fantastic hurt/comfort fic. Ravi beloved.

Next to your heartbeat, where I should be by @rainbow-nerdss in which Buck sends Eddie an accidental dick pic, and then through their resulting texts Eddie realises the power of exchanging photos as a means of self love and self esteem boosting to reclaim and celebrate his body...so pic exchanges ensue...totally platonically of course. This is sexy and silly and so much fun, the oneupmanship is hilarious and hot, and as their inhibitions drop...so do their pants.

the sweetest apparition by @hyruling in which 'Eddie moves to Texas. Buck keeps accidentally telling people Eddie's dead. It goes about as well as you'd expect.' I died laughing and then swooned and then cackled, and then cried, and it was all so wonderful. Crack treated seriously, this is one for anyone who is a fan of Buck's perpetual foot in mouth syndrome.

I'll be back next month with my next round of recs, happy reading everyone! 40 days until 8b!

#biasbuck recs #buddie #buddie fic #buddie ficrec #buddie fanfic #911 fic #911 ficrec #911 abc

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cranberryjuice-posts · 1 year ago

Note

GIRLIE I LOVED YOUR ATHENA DAUGHTER READER ‼️

also guess who’s back can i ask for a athena!daugter reader where it’s kinda like Annabeth trying to tell the reader that “hey clarisse is bad she tried to fucking kill percy she’s evil” and the reader us kinda tries to convince her that Clarisse really isn’t that bad😔

(i love your work girl and your end memes please do more 🔥‼️)

She’s the only one I got

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x daughter of Athena reader

An- fun-fact clarisse loves Dr Pepper It’s cannon Go read the sea of monsters. She’s literally perfect I can’t

An pt 2 - I Hope this is ok i wasn’t really sure what to write but it’s ok bc I’m just a girl

Pt 1 — Pt 2

Palestine aid link

“Are you serious?!” Annabeth yelled, a few of your other siblings backing her up.

You however were standing infront of the full length mirror inside your cabin fixing your outfit which was a pair of bellebottoms and a camp sweater. “Look Annie i get your our counselor and your the smartest out of us all but your not the smartest when it comes to relationships”

“And now she’s starting to sound like an Aphrodite kid” Malcom your brother rolled his eyes before returning to his book. You shot him a hateful look. “All right fine Your right I don’t get relationships like you but I do know clarisse”

“Really?” You sarcastically spoke just wanting the argument to be over. Grabbing some hoops you were deciding between the two different pairs. “Yeah, Clarisse is a hateful arrogant and rude person. She makes fun of our cabin with her siblings and didn’t she use to make fun of you to”

Deciding on the star shape hoop you put the earring in. “Fine! Fine ok I get it but I promise you clarisse is not like that ok she’s sweet, she loves me Annie why don’t you get that” you sighed facing your sister.

The shorter girl crossed her arms, leaning against a desk inside the studious cabin. “Because she’s a bitch”

“Language!”

“I’m 12 why are you giving me shit for cussing you cuss”

“Because I’m 16 you’ve still got two years before you morally can curse now stop.. damn about to make me get Luke” you sighed shaking your head. Facing back to the mirror you analyzed your look.

Annabeth rolled her eyes looking away for some time before facing you once again. “I still don’t trust you being alone with her..”

After finally having enough you turned towards the wiser girl. “Know what fine you can spy on us during our date today, then you’ll see she’s not such a terrible person and you’ll finally get off my ass… deal” you crossed your arms looking down at annabeth.

Your younger sister looked around for a moment feeling somewhat threatened by you before nodding in defeat. “Great” you sighed stepping back, grabbing a small drawstring bag and a book on the stars, you threw on your shoes before leaving.

——

You were sitting in a clearing in the woods, a blanket set out with some strawberries and a pack of Dr Pepper you bought from the Hermes cabin. Annabeth was positioned behind a tree with her cap of invisibility on.

Eventually clarisse showed up. “Five minutes late” you jokingly chastised her.

“Shut up I’m on time” she scoffed sitting down beside you on the blanket. Pulling you into her some she kissed you softly. Her hands finding themselves on your waist

Bringing yourself back you leaned over grabbing a soda, handing it over to the curly haired girl. “Mmhm so how was running around like a fool for the entire morning?”

Clarisse rolled her eyes taking the drink In a harsh joking manner. “First of all its called training and secondly it was actually alot of fun, how was staying up all night to just watch some stupid dots in the sky”

Scrunching your nose at the girl you gave her a sarcastic look. “Yeah you think your so funny huh”

“Yeah I do”

“Mmhm” you knew clarisse was looking at your lips— she wasn’t subtle about it. Tired of her just imagining it you leaned in kissing her again. The playful banter between you two faded away while clarisse deepened the kiss

As much as you wanted to makeout with your girlfriend you weren’t doing it infront of your sister. Pulling back you placed a hand on clarisses arm while darting your eyes to some trees around you with a smile.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows but made a signal to her head almost mimicking a hat. Nodding you knew clarisse understood annabeth was spying on you two.

“Whatever this is stupid” clarisse gave you a teasing look. “What being on a date with your girlfriend? Yeah it’s so stupid” you responded in the same tone.

Clarisse rolled her eyes. “You know that’s not. What I meant” shaking her head you watched as clarisse reached over to her spear grabbing a plastic bag.

Handing it over to you you looked inside. “No way clarisse did you”

“Yeah I did. Your not gonna embarrass me about it if I own up to it” she continued to mess with you. Opening the bag you smiled as your girlfriend made you chocolate chip cookies with the nymphs in the kitchen. “Your the sweetest you know” you becoming flustered while you looked at the treats.

She just rolled her eyes with a smile, laying down clarisse moved around to lay her head in your lap. “Woah careful clarisse you might admit you actually like me a boring Athena kid remember”

“Mmhm Same can be said about you what was that about me being a bitchy ares kid?” She bit back. Flicking her forehead lightly just to get back at her.

You smiled while playing with one of the girls curls. You loved clarisse, wanting to proudly say it but worried you’d scare the girl off so for now you’d settle on just this.. cute dates with her, sneaking into her cabin to spend the night with her and just enjoying the silence with her.

After some time you knew annabeth had left after all she had gotten all the proof she needed. Clarisse knew it to.

“I love you” it finally left your lips. You noticed clarisses body tense making you regret the decision immediately. Clarisse however grabbed your hand kissing your knuckles. “I guess I love you to”

“Shut up”

“Why You Said you loved me”

——

Annabeth - Fine she’s not a bitch

Y/n - ANNABETH!

—

Clarisse - *having a Stare off with annabeth*

Clarisse - do we have a Problem

Y/n - dude..

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x female reader #butch clarisse #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse larue #percy jackson show #pjo show #pjo fandom

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cantpickyourgenre · 4 days ago

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Will you guys hate me if I talk my shit about how I see the Buddie/Ravi dynamic? I know everyone has likely moved on. But *I* am stuck in the idea of Ravi kind of being like the younger sibling to Buck. He sort of emulates him, in the way a lot of younger siblings are helpless to do. He sort of thinks he's a loser, in the way a lot of younger siblings love to do. He mostly gets away with staying out of his way, having a little sibling banter, and probably talking with his friends frequently about how his brother Buck and his Best Friend Eddie are just The Worst, super dramatic, and ANNOYING. Because Eddie is collateral, Buck's best friend damage and also it's not like he stopped Buck from chasing him with a chainsaw, and he also made him go in a sewer. So, conclusion, he must also be kind of an annoying big brother-type loser. But then, Eddie goes away to Texas Summer Camp and Ravi's parents (who in this world are Hen and Chim probably) are like "you must hang out with Buck. Look he's so pathetically sad now that his best friend is gone. We cannot and do not want to hang out with this rain-soaked chow chow, so you must." So they like go to movie theaters, and the gym, and the park, and Buck is being nice? He starts calling him “Rav” which is nice, he’s BIG on nicknames so it makes Ravi feel a little like he’s special and cared for. He talks about Eddie a LOT, but he's making fun of Ravi a LOT less. And honestly? Eddie DOES sound pretty cool. Kind of amazing he even hangs out with Buck who is still kind of a loser, but Ravi is more sympathetic to it now. And they go to the library and the cool librarian who Buck has a lot of respect for keeps accidentally calling him "Eddie" because he's just so used to seeing them together. And Ravi is sort of like, "...oh...my brother deeply has no other friends" and he takes pity on him. Plus it IS kind of nice to hang out with his brother. Then Ravi takes his driving test. And he FAILS. So he goes to his big brother and is like "I will walk everywhere forever. I am AWFUL at driving." and he thinks Big Brother Buck is going to make fun of him, because Best Friend Eddie is SOOOO good at driving. Even the librarian who helped Ravi print the paperwork was like "ah I remember when Eddie took his test. He was so confident and he was right to be!" But Buck is kind, and sort of pushy about Ravi getting back on the horse (the horse being their family's mini van that he lovingly calls Pegasus) and take the test again. And it's stupid, because he's just Some Guy, but Ravi finds himself wishing that Brother's Best Friend Eddie could just take the test for him. In fact, at night before he falls asleep, he has a daydream of him coming back from Texas Summer Camp and winking at him as he fools the driving instructor and passes it for Ravi. And Ravi is briefly like, "I am a 16 year old boy daydreaming about my big brother's best friend who he is definitely in love with. Is this a crush? Do I want to be him? What is this?" and he decides he just wants to fill his shadow, but it feels impossible because the learner's permit is burning a hole in his wallet reminding him he has failed failed failed. And then the librarian dies in a library explosion saving the lives of Ravi and another two visitors while Buck is trapped outside retires and Eddie is back for the party. And Ravi is like..."okay, keep it cool, it's just Saint Eddie, Brother Buck's Best Boy Friend Forever. Don't fuck this up. Don't tell him you failed at driving” and Eddie calls him “Rav” too and says it’s good to see him and Ravi is like “!!!!!!!!!” and he asks him for retirement party advice because Eddie volunteers at a senior center or some shit and Eddie is like, "well, I mean, I don't know, I'm usually not close to the librarians who have retired there" and Ravi is like "oh, right, he's not Saint Eddie, he's just a 17 year old boy who spent his summer away at camp writing my big brother truly a staggering amount of letters and not even driving his car."

#911 #911 abc #Buck #Eddie Diaz #Ravi Pannikar #Buddie #so obsessed with their dynamic honestly #all credit to Anirudh and Ryan's eyebrow acting tbh #Evan Buckley #Buddieravi

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fairiily · 9 months ago

Text

unspoken desire

description: you and wade had been teasing each other for far too long, so you decided to do something about it.

pairing: deadpool x you

contains: teasing, tension, no smut but almost

word count: ~1.2k

an: this is my first time ever posting my writing so pls be nice

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was obvious.

Everyone in the X-Mansion knew Deadpool was into you, even if he refused to admit it. The one time he didn’t blurt out what he felt the moment he felt it. Painstakingly annoying, considering Wade says every thought that crosses his mind.

After too many torturous hangouts filled with endless teasing that neither of you acted on, you decided to do something about it. Something he couldn’t resist.

You and Wade always messed around with each other—not like that, although every part of you wished it was. Whether it was play-fighting, bickering like siblings, or making the most ridiculous jokes, nothing was ever serious between you two. But every time Wade joked about kissing you, teasing you, or even sometimes fucking you, a part of you felt like he wasn’t joking. You had put up with his antics long enough, and you were determined to put an end to it since Wade didn’t have the balls to.

Surprising to everyone, even Deadpool himself, Colossus had convinced Wade to join the X-Men. As always, he was hesitant at first but eventually caved to make Colossus happy. However, his decision wasn’t made entirely with pure intentions. You were the newest member of the X-Men, having taken off your yellow “trainee” top and chucked it in the trash a few days ago. Wade was caught off guard when he saw you, as you hadn’t joined the X-Men on their recent missions involving him. But you may have influenced Wade’s decision. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

You had always felt his gaze, but pining was only fun for so long. After a long day of missions, you and the X-Men returned to the mansion. Everyone was getting ready for bed, settling into their nightly routines. Your bedroom had a connected bathroom, but you wanted to have some fun tonight. You searched your closet for the tiniest shorts you owned and slipped them on, purposely wearing nothing underneath. Next came your tank top—low-cut and accentuating in all the right places. You then stepped out of your room, butterflies in your stomach from the excitement.

You peeked around the corner to make sure Wade’s door was open, then made your way down the hall. When you reached Wade’s room, you swung around the door frame with your hand, stretching your body away from it.

“Hey, Wade.”

Wade spun around, his eyes going wide as he took in your outfit. For a moment, he looked like he’d been hit with a bus but shortly regained his composure.

“Whoa, Y/N! Is this a new superhero costume? Because it’s totally working for you.” He grinned. “Did you just step out of a fashion magazine or are you trying to distract me?”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking at his over-the-top reaction. “Just wanted to let you know, today was pretty insane.”

Wade wiggled his eyebrows, still struggling to keep his eyes off you. “Oh yeah, the way that guy’s head spun? Classic. I think he may need an exorcist after that—if he survives the migraine.”

“Yeah, it was wild,” you replied, your tone playful. “But hey, I’m about to crash. Got a big day tomorrow.”

Wade dramatically pouted, placing a hand over his heart. “Aww, come on! Don’t leave me hanging. I need someone to save me from my own bad jokes. Plus, I was just getting started with the witty banter!”

"Goodnight, Wade." you said, looking into his eyes.

You walked across the hallway into the bathroom, but deliberately left the door open. Wade made a mental note, realizing you had your own bathroom and had chosen to come to his.

With your hands on the edges of the sink, you leaned over into the mirror, making an effort to arch your back in the process. Wade realized what you were doing, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The way your clothes hugged your curves—he thought you looked so good, so effortlessly. He shifted on the edge of his bed, and you noticed he was still staring. It was working. But you wanted to see what he was going to do about it, now that you’d made it obvious. You wanted to see how long you could tease him before he gave in.

After his sweatpants grew tighter, he decided he couldn’t take it anymore. You’d won.

You then felt two rough hands on your back before you even realized he had gotten up. His grip was firm but hesitant, like he was testing the waters, making sure this was what you wanted. You caught his reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark with desire but still holding that flicker of uncertainty. For a split second, you felt a rush of power surge through you—this was your game now, and he was playing by your rules.

“Wade,” you murmured, your voice low and inviting as you leaned into his touch, arching your back a little more. “You finally going to stop pretending?”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin as his hands slowly slid up your sides, grazing the hem of your tank top. “Y’know, I usually just go straight for it, but something about you makes me wanna savor the moment. What happened to goodnight?”

You could feel his breath on your neck as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine. His hands moved with deliberate slowness, teasing you just as much as you’d teased him.

“I changed my mind. And if you don’t hurry up, I might just have to take matters into my own hands,” you teased, your tone laced with both challenge and promise.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the skin behind your ear. “But first… how about we see just how much of that outfit you’re really wearing for me?”

His fingers dipped beneath the fabric of your tank top, grazing the bare skin underneath, and you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips. Wade smirked at your reaction, his confidence growing with every little sound you made.

“You’ve been driving me crazy, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, unusually serious. “All this time, and you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.”

His hands roamed lower, finding the waistband of your shorts, his fingers slipping under just enough to make your pulse quicken. You felt him pause, as if waiting for some final sign from you.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Then take what you want, Wade. I’m right here.”

That was all the permission he needed.

In one swift motion, he spun you around to face him, his hands firmly on your hips as he backed you against the sink. His eyes were locked onto yours, hunger flashed within them.

Before you could say anything, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss hungry and desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer.

Wade’s hands began to explore your body, his touch rough and impatient as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you. Your bodies pressed together, and you could feel the heat radiating between you, the tension that had been building for so long finally snapping.

As his hands continued to explore, and your kisses grew more heated, you knew that this was just getting started. There was no more pretending, no more teasing. you got him exactly where you wanted. you swiftly sat up from the edge of the counter, taking him to your room.

the door behind you slammed. you didnt realize how much you needed him, and the way he was touching you said he felt the same.

"im so glad i have you all to myself." wade murmured, desire spilling out of his voice.

and in that moment, you wondered if all of his skin was textured.

it was a long night.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

anyways thats it thank u for reading! i didnt write the smut part sorry to disappoint but i literally dont know how to LOL!

#deadpool #deadpool x reader #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader smut #wade wilson smut #wade wilson x you #deadpool x you #mcu #marvel #im in love with wade wilson i need him NOW

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in-my-feels-probably · 2 years ago

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Request: Have you considered Benedict falling for a friend of Daphne's? Like if they're as close as Pen and Eloise but maybe with a little less drama? I think it would be funny for Benedict to ask for advice on how to talk to her and Daph being done. Just "you've known her for as long as I have."

Hi! Thank you again for the request, this is such a cute idea. I hope you don’t mind, but I made the reader a Featherington. I went a little off track too, it was easier for me to write that way. If this isn’t what you were looking for, I’m happy to take another request or alter this one. Sorry for the long wait on getting this out, but I hope you enjoy this :)

(Warnings: insecurity, middle child trauma, nothing else i think? idk, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Living in Grosvenor Square certainly had its ups and downs.

On one hand, you were mere steps away from your best friends. The Bridgertons lived right across the street, and you could visit them practically whenever you wanted. On the other hand—the not so nice hand—your family is the Featherington’s. Which isn’t an inherently bad thing. You loved your family, and could ignore most of the negatives. It just certainly has its pitfalls, being a Featherington daughter.

The Featherington’s—while rich and somewhat dignified—aren’t considered to be the most respectable of families. There wasn’t any one main reason why members of the ton didn’t much like your family, they just didn’t.

It wasn’t a personal grudge with you they had. In fact, you were quite liked by the ton.

More often than not, however, they didn’t pay much attention to you. It was easy to forget you were there when the rest of your family was the center of attention.

You were born soon after Phillipa but before Penelope, making you a middle child.

Your Mother seemed to connect with her eldest far more than her youngest, and that put a strain on your relationship. Not only that, you were much more akin to Penelope, having a lot more in common with her than your older sisters and your Mother combined. You were a bit of a wallflower, like Penelope, and it was a hard trait for your Mother to get past.

It wasn’t all negatives, though.

One of the biggest perks of being a Featherington was the fact that you lived directly across from the Bridgertons. You had spent most of your life over at their residence since the day you developed the ability to walk.

And, subsequently, the ability to walk across the street.

Violet Bridgerton’s first girl—Daphne—was born right around the same time as you were, and she decided Daphne was going to need a friend. Being the first girl born to a family of three brothers was a challenge, and Violet thought it best that Daphne should be able to socialize with a girl her age.

By the time you were both able to talk, you became inseparable. Just as your sister Penelope had come to develop a deep friendship with Eloise Bridgerton, you had come to develop your own with Daphne.

And by extension, you became good friends with her eldest brothers.

Anthony was the oldest, quite a bit older than you. He was already a handful of trouble by the time you showed up, and he already had plenty of practice teasing girls with his sisters as victims. In your first few years, he’d make it his mission each time you visited the house to fluster you, and annoy Daphne. It was harmless fun, and it never really bothered you, although he tried his hardest nonetheless. But as you got older, he became quite protective over you. It was like you were another sister to him, and you definitely bantered and squabbled like siblings do. As annoying as he could be, you loved him like a brother.

Colin was a similar story, although you saw something more to him. It was easy to, with the way Penelope talked about him endlessly. She could ramble for hours, making you listen to every painstaking detail. You definitely understood her affection for him, though. He’s charming and kind, much like his other brothers, but he’s also fun and witty. Daphne tended to favor him the most. They were closest in age, after all. Between her and Penelope, you spent quite a lot of time with him, and you certainly enjoyed his company.

But—besides Daphne—you enjoyed no other Bridgerton’s company like you did Benedict’s.

Benedict was different. He was more.

He was just as kind and charming as Anthony, and just as witty as Colin—certainly as annoyingly beautiful as Daphne—but he was more than that, too. He was sensitive and sweet, far more so than the rest of the Lords of the ton. He was passionate about art and love and valuing the little things. He didn’t care about marrying the prettiest girl for advantage, or inheriting her dowry. He cared about pursuing his dreams, and inspiring others to do the same.

Just the way he talked about his passions and values was enough to make any girl swoon, and yet he was still genuine with his words. It wasn’t for flattery or manipulation, he meant every word. Everything he did, he did for himself and the people he loves.

If it weren’t for Daphne currently holding the number one spot, you’d consider him your best friend.

He’d consider you the same.

You spend just as much time with him as you do with Daphne, and over the years, he’d come to cherish your company.

You saw him for him, not for his title. You listened to his endearing ramblings about his passions because you genuinely enjoyed hearing about them, not because you felt obligated to listen. You treated him like a person, not a prize to be won. It was all he could ask for in a best friend.

But that’s just it. That’s all you were to him. A best friend.

He was so sure that was all you’d ever be. Perhaps one day you’d be his sister in law, considering how close Penelope and Colin had gotten. You’d be family, and that was alright with him. It was what he expected. And then the unexpected happened.

He started falling.

—

The first time he noticed his feelings for you had shifted was the evening of a ball the Queen was throwing.

You’d come over early to get dressed with Daphne, wanting to help make sure she was perfect. She had finally revealed to you her ruse she was sharing with the Duke, you being the first person outside of their agreement to know. You were shocked at first, but as you listened to her speak, you gave her a knowing smile.

“You love him.”

Her eyes widened in shock, her cheeks blushing a rosy pink. “What? Why would you say that?”

“You love him,” you said again, smiling gently at her. “I’ve never seen you speak with such passion. With the way you talk about him, there’s no other possibility. One couldn’t possibly think that highly of another without feelings being involved—”

“You speak of my brother like that,” Daphne interrupted, chuckling when you swallowed your words.

You chose to ignore her statement, continuing to advise her on the best course of action for how to get through the remainder of her agreed upon days with the Duke. If the way he looked at her without her knowing was of any consequence, you were sure he felt the same way about her. All she had to do was make him see that.

When it was time to leave for the ball, all the Bridgerton’s piled into carriages. Daphne was hurried out the door, and she left with her Mother and Anthony, leaving you behind. When you tried to head back home to be escorted by your family, Benedict stopped you.

He had opened and closed his mouth a few times before he was able to choke out any words. Normally, he found it pretty easy to talk to you. But for some reason, the sight of you standing by his front door made his knees weak.

“I’m afraid they’ve already left,” he finally said, stopping you at the door. “They must have assumed you’d be accompanied by us.”

You groaned, feeling a pit form in your stomach. “I have no other way to get there. I promised Daphne I’d be there for her. Pen, too. She seemed quite nervous about attending tonight.”

“Not to worry,” he smiled, offering you his arm. “You can ride with me.”

You sighed in relief, thanking him profusely. “Well, aren’t you a lifesaver? Thank you, Benedict.”

“Of course,” he nodded, helping you into the carriage.

As you settled into your seat, a thought occurred to you. “Benedict…why are you still here? Not that I’m not grateful, but I don’t understand. You’ve been talking about going to the palace for days to see the Queen’s gallery. I would have expected you to be the first one out the door. But here you are.”

He was quiet for a moment as he took in your words, his eyes softening on you.

There were many things he could have said to you to easily explain it away. I’ll see the gallery soon anyways, or, I promised my Mother and yours that I’d make sure you got there safely. Numerous excuses he could have come up with to satisfy your curiosity, and yet, all that was coming to mind was, I can see the gallery another time, but I may never get to see you alone and sitting in front of me looking this beautiful with your undivided attention again, and I won’t pass up on the opportunity for anything.

“I don’t know,” he finally said as he shrugged his shoulders, feigning innocence. “But here I am.”

—

He didn’t truly acknowledge his feelings for you until months later, after attempting to ignore it for so long.

The second time he noticed was when he found out that the only reason he got into art school was because Anthony made a sizable donation to the Academy.

You had found him alone during yet another ton gathering, sulking on the edge of the party. Daphne had already gone home to Simon, and wouldn’t return for some time. Besides Penelope—and occasionally Eloise—Benedict was one of the only people you actually liked enough to be around. And seeing as both Penelope and Eloise were nowhere to be found, Benedict was your only hope.

You just hadn’t expected to find him nearly in tears, anxiously tugging at the cufflinks at the bottom of his sleeve.

It didn’t take much to get him to spill, and you found yourself pulling him inside to keep him away from prying eyes while he was in such a state. He told you all about Anthony’s meddling, and you knew it had crushed his heart to find out that he hadn’t actually achieved anything on his own.

“I know he did it out of the good of his heart…but I wish he hadn’t done it at all.”

He brought his hands up to cover his face, groaning into them. You reached for his wrists and tried to pull them away, but he wouldn’t budge. He finally relented when you said his name softly, letting you take his hands in yours.

“Benedict, it doesn’t matter how you got in. You’re an incredible artist, that’s all that matters,” you said softly, squeezing his hand in yours.

He shook his head, sighing in frustration. “I’m not. My work is child’s play compared to the other artists at the Academy. They all knew why I had even been given a spot in the first place. I’m an imposter, Y/N. A fraud. It was humiliating.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, darling,” you lightly chuckled, your smile fading when his defeated look didn’t waver.

“Alright, that’s it. Fess up. This can’t be all that’s bothering you. I know you, and I know you’re not one to give up that easily. You’ve been flustered all week, so what is it? You can tell me. Not that I have anyone to tell, but I won’t tell. I promise.”

His eyes softened on you as you spoke, and you could feel his grip on your hand get tighter. “I just…I’m tired.”

“Of what?”

“Of being second.”

You frowned, swiping your thumb across the back of his hand. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s just something Anthony said,” he murmured, keeping his eyes on your joined hands. “How I may be the second son, but that it doesn’t mean I am any less required to do my duties to the family. It’s rich coming from him. I’ve been second to him literally my entire life, and he’s only recently started taking his role seriously. I’ve played Father’s role since his passing. Isn’t it just my luck that he’s getting the credit for it?”

“You may be second to him in birth, but that is the only way you’re second. You’re every bit as good as him, Benedict,” you said firmly, but you weren’t sure if your words were sinking in.

He was uncharacteristically quiet, though his grip on your hands hadn’t wavered. His eyes were still on the floor, and his shoulders were shaking as he took uneven breaths.

“I know what that feels like, you know,” you finally said, making him glance up at you. “I’m a Featherington. A middle child at that, and it’s no secret my Mother favors my older sisters.”

Benedict let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “She’s wrong to. I don’t mean to be rude, but you and Pen are worlds more interesting and gracious than your sisters. The eldest, at least.”

“You don’t even know them,” you said in shock, but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, too.

“I don’t need to. You’re the only one I’m interested in knowing. Middle child or not.”

You couldn’t help but smile, although his kind words weren’t enough. The more you thought about just how second to the world you were, the more your smile faded.

“It’s not just being the middle child,” you continued, speaking softly. “I love your sister more than almost anything in this whole world, but I have always been second to her, too. She was the diamond of the season the second she was let out of leading strings, and now she’s my Duchess. I’m so happy for her, but it does put a damper on your confidence. Watching your best friend grow into this person everyone loves, and it’s like she didn’t even try.”

“Y/N—”

“Sometimes I feel awful, thinking this way. I know she tried, I was there for her every time she’d get overwhelmed. But she made it look so easy. I don’t know how she did it,” you rambled, taking a shuddering breath as you stopped yourself from speaking.

Benedict’s eyes softened on you as you spoke, making you want to shrink away from his gaze. He was being kind, and you didn’t know if it was genuine or not. If he was faking it for your sake, that was much worse than his actual pity.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this about me, let’s get back to you—”

“Y/N,” he said again, this time effectively silencing you. “You can’t possibly feel that way.”

It was your turn to look at the floor. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s true.”

“That is the furthest thing from the truth,” he said gently, taking your hand. “You’re every bit as good as my sister. I know she makes things look easy, but she spoke just as highly of you as you do of her.”

You raised a brow. “Really?”

“Really. She used to tell me how kind you were to her, even after Lady Whistledown printed her supposed scandals. You were never judgemental.”

“I have no right to judge anyone, especially not her. She’s never said a bad thing about anyone, it isn’t right that people just took a scandal sheet as truth. And, if anything, she was kind to me. She, Eloise, Colin, and you are pretty much the only members of the ton that treat me like a normal person and not an outcast because of who my family is.”

Benedict smiled, squeezing your hand. “I would never dream of treating you any other way.”

You fought the flush that crept up to your cheeks, feeling the heat settle in them. You cleared your throat, shaking your head.

“Anyway,” you smiled, meeting his eyes. “I don’t mean to keep you away. Should we go back to the party? Someone may be looking for you. You’re quite popular, you know.”

Benedict couldn’t help but smile. And as he watched you look up at him through gentle eyes and an open heart, he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was like his feet were stuck to the floor, and he didn’t want to do anything to pull them up. He shook his head, keeping his hand in yours.

“No,” he finally answered, taking a seat. “Let them look. I’d much rather spend my evening with you. If you’ll allow me to, that is.”

You shook your head, taking a seat next to him. “I’ve got nowhere I’d rather be.”

—

The third time he noticed was when you, Daphne, and he accompanied Penelope and Colin to promenade throughout the square. She and Simon had come to visit, and she wanted to spend time with you and her family.

This time, he couldn’t ignore his feelings.

You followed behind Colin and Penelope, giving them enough room to speak privately without feeling like their older siblings were on their backs. You smiled as you watched Penelope look up at him, Colin being as gentlemanly as ever.

“It took him long enough,” you said, making Benedict chuckle.

“I thought he’d never figure it out.”

“Me either,” you agreed, grinning as you watched Colin smile down at your sister. “I should bash him over the head. I’ve listened to Pen spend countless hours rambling on about how utterly oblivious Colin can be. He owes me a debt.”

“He isn’t the only oblivious person I know,” Daphne piped in, making your eyes widen.

You had told her countless times about your feelings for Benedict, and how he never seemed to reciprocate them.

What you didn’t know is that he had done the same, on more than one occasion going to his siblings for advice on how to address them. Pushing them down until he couldn’t feel them seemed to be working, at least until now. And as far as he knew, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings either.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said nervously, silently pleading with her to drop the subject.

“Neither do I,” Benedict added, making Daphne chuckle.

She just grinned, ever so slightly raising a brow. “I mean Anthony, of course. It took him quite a while to realize that what he felt for Kate was much more than rivalry. I practically had to beg it out of him.”

“You’re a little matchmaker, aren’t you?” You asked, smiling at her. “Who’s next? Eloise, perhaps?”

“Perhaps…you?”

You immediately stilled, making them stop, too. “Me?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. You’ve been my best friend for ages, and I know what’s good for you. You’re lonely. And as awful as it is, the ton will start to talk. If the only people you talk to outside of your own family are Benedict and I, they’ll begin to notice.”

You frowned, nodding. She was right. Harsh, but right. The threat of becoming a spinster was looming over your head every season, and it had only gotten worse after Daphne married in her first season. Your second season came and went, and you were now in your third.

Without any prospects.

And it was looking like your baby sister was going to beat you to the punch as well. You were silent, a small frown on your face.

Thankfully, Benedict broke the silence. Just the thought of you marrying someone—especially someone who didn’t deserve you—made his skin crawl. He felt like he could keel over, and by the look on your face, he could tell you were feeling similarly. He couldn’t keep himself from turning you away from Daphne’s advice.

“Why settle?” He asked cautiously, giving you a sympathetic look. “Don’t let the ton pressure you. You’ll know when it’s the right time.”

You had fully made it around the square, now back in front of your house. Penelope was saying goodbye to Colin, at least for the moment. His Mother invited you and Penelope to dinner to welcome Simon and Daphne home, and so they’d see each other again in mere hours.

You gave Benedict a grateful smile, nodding. “You’re right. Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time to pull our siblings apart before they actually become attached at the hip. Mother wants us home before we join you later.”

Daphne chuckled, taking your hands in hers. “I think you’re right. I’ll see you soon, dearest.”

You squeezed her hands in yours, before going to gather your sister. You gave Colin a knowing smile, turning and heading inside with your sister in tow. The Bridgerton’s did the same, filing into their house one by one.

The second Benedict shut the door behind him, he collapsed against it, groaning. “What was all that for, Daph?”

“What? I was simply giving you both a little nudge. God knows you needed one. You’re even worse than Colin was, brother.”

“I don’t need a nudge. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Colin laughed, taking off his coat as he headed up the stairs. “I could hear your stuttering. It was laughable.”

“Oh, piss off,” Benedict pouted, waving away Colin as he chuckled the rest of the way up the stairs.

Daphne offered him a small smile, letting out a sigh. She took his arm, leading them to the sitting room. After promptly sitting down, she gave him an expectant look, and he reluctantly sat next to her.

“Out with it,” she urged. “Why did our conversation with Y/N bother you so?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed, shaking his head.

Daphne narrowed her eyes, speaking gently but firmly. “You do know, Benedict. Admit it. You feel something for her.”

“Does it matter? She doesn’t feel the same way.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Daphne exasperatedly asked, nearly bursting at the seams.

She knew of both your affections for each other, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to tell either of you about the other. It didn’t feel right, going behind the other’s back. She had decided the moment she knew of each of your feelings to let the matter run its own course. What she hadn’t anticipated was it taking this long.

It was getting near impossible to keep the secret, and she decided a little meddling was excusable.

“She’s never said anything to me that would allude to her feeling anything for me. What would you have me do? Ask her directly?”

“There’s an idea,” Daphne shrugged.

Benedict sighed, trying to shove down the anxiety he felt at the thought of confronting you. “You saw me out there. I wouldn’t even know where to start. How do I talk to her?”

“You’ve known her as long as I have, brother. She’s your best friend! Just talk to her. She’ll understand, I promise. She won’t hurt your feelings if that’s what you’re worried about. You know she won’t.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m going to be sick at the mere thought of talking to her about it?”

Daphne smiled, her eyes softening. “Because you love her.”

Benedict’s shoulders fell, like Daphne just saying it out loud was the first time he was admitting it to himself. Like his feelings hadn’t fully sunk in, and now they were hitting him all at once like a freight train. It was a realization for him, and it both excited and terrified him at the same time. His emotion was clear on his face as his mouth fell open, making Daphne’s smile widen.

“Don’t worry, brother,” she reassured him. “It will all work out. I truly believe that. Take the afternoon to yourself, and keep your mind off of it till dinner. You’ll know the right thing to say when it’s time.”

—

That evening, you returned to the Bridgerton’s residence with Penelope.

The family gathered in the sitting room before dinner was ready, but Daphne pulled you away before you could follow. She took you all the way to the backyard, sitting down on the swing. She motioned for you to follow, and you took a seat on the swing next to her.

“I wanted to apologize about earlier,” she said softly. “I saw your face, I know I upset you. That wasn’t my intention, and I hope you can forgive me.”

You shook your head. “Don’t apologize. I needed to hear it. I might not like it, but I needed to hear it.”

“It hurt, Y/N. You don’t have to minimize that to spare my feelings. It’s alright to admit it. Do you…do you want to talk about it? I think there’s something more to it that’s bothering you, love.”

She was right.

Of course she was, she was always right. You sighed, turning to look back through the window into the house. You could see Penelope standing with the rest of the family, laughing at something Colin was telling her. He was smiling down at her like she had hung every star in the sky, just so he could have the chance to watch them sparkle. It was beautiful.

And it was painful.

“I just,” you started, keeping your eyes on Penelope. “I’m happy for her. I’m so happy for her. But I’m feeling a bit left behind.”

Daphne took your hand, leaning closer. “What do you mean?”

“I feel so selfish saying this, but…it’s what I want. She’s getting all that I want. All my life, I’ve wanted what you and your family have. You’re all so loved, and you love each other so deeply. Pen deserves that, I want her to have that. And I have no doubt that by the end of the season, she’ll have it. She’ll marry Colin, and officially be a Bridgerton. Part of the family. But she won’t be mine anymore. And I won’t be hers.”

Daphne frowned, squeezing your hand in hers. She turned you to meet her eyes, giving you a knowing look.

“I have a feeling this has more to do with a certain brother of mine. And I don’t mean Colin.”

You frowned, and she knew she was right.

“This is about Benedict. With Penelope being with Colin, it’s a reminder that you’re not with him. And you want to be with him.”

You couldn’t deny your feelings any longer. “I do. God, I really do. But it’s more than that. I want to be his family. I want to be your family.”

“And you’ve had to silently watch Penelope get what you’ve been waiting for,” Daphne said in realization, her heart breaking when you nodded.

Daphne stood up, pulling you with her. She wrapped you into a tight hug, refusing to relent until you hugged her back. You sighed in frustration, letting her gently rock you back and forth.

“Y/N,” she said softly, pulling away. “You’re already my sister. Regardless of who you end up with, whether it’s my brother or not. Wherever you end up, it doesn’t matter. You will always be my sister. You never have to worry about that. Not ever.”

You smiled softly, squeezing her hands. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a throat cleared behind you. You quickly turned to see Benedict standing at the door.

“Mother told me to come collect you both. Dinner will be soon. Daph, Simon is asking after you.”

Daphne nodded, turning back to you. “Come along, then.”

“Actually,” Benedict interrupted, his eyes falling on you. “Could I have a moment alone with Y/N, please? If it’s alright with you.”

“Of course,” you said nervously, nodding towards Daphne.

Daphne smiled, nodding back. She patted Benedict on the shoulder as she headed back inside, closing the door behind her.

When she was gone, Benedict gave you a sheepish smile. He motioned for you to sit down, and you took a seat on the swing. He sat on the swing next to you, turning his body so that he was facing you. His knees brushed yours as he settled.

“What is it?” You asked, giving him all your attention.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

Your eyes softened on him, and you laid your hand on his arm. “I’m alright, Ben. Better now, since you’ve arrived.”

“Cheesy,” he smiled, but his heart was fluttering in his chest. “You know how to make a man smile, don’t you?”

“I didn’t think I was doing anything in particular,” you shrugged.

Benedict’s smile widened, and he couldn’t help but ponder his feelings for you. From the moment he found you alone on his doorstep, to when you took care of him at his lowest. From the way you treated his family, to the selflessness you never failed to put before your own wishes. From the way you made him feel, to the way he so desperately hoped you felt. He couldn’t stop himself from confessing, hoping his words wouldn’t come back to haunt him.

“I have to tell you something,” he murmured, taking a shuddering breath after he realized what he said, and what he was about to do.

You nodded. “What is it?”

“I think—and in case this is a huge mistake on my part, please forgive me—but, I think…I think I’m in love with you.”

You stiffened, standing up from the swing. “What?”

“I,” he stuttered, standing up as well. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was—”

You cut him off, taking his hands in yours. “Say it again.”

Benedict’s eyes widened, and you had caught him at a loss for words. He felt like you had punched him in the gut, sending him to his knees. But he nodded, squeezing your hands in his.

“I love you,” he said again, softer this time as he looked at you through gentle eyes. “I’ve loved you from the moment you got into that carriage with me, and I’ve loved you every moment since. I love you.”

Your shoulders fell, and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, clinging tightly to his hands. You felt like your knees could give out, and the only thing holding you up was him.

“You’re not lying? You’re serious?”

Benedict almost laughed, nodding. “Yes, Y/N. I’m serious. Do you really think I would jest about this?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as well, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. “All that time. All that time, and you couldn’t tell me? You certainly waited long enough.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, darling,” he said, cocking his head in confusion.

You were starting to worry him now, concern written all over his face. It made your heart clench in your chest.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were so happy, you couldn’t help but hold him close, smiling wider when you felt his arms wrap around your waist, despite his confusion. You held him tight, standing up on your toes so he could hear you loud and clear.

“I love you too, Benedict.”

He instantly pulled away, holding you back at arms length. “You what?”

“I love you,” you said again, taking his hands. “And I’ve been waiting ages for the day you’d finally tell me you felt the same. I never thought I’d hear you say the words, but I am so happy that you did.”

It was his turn to ask. “You’re serious? This isn’t a joke?”

You shook your head, and he squeezed your hands. You brought one of your joined hands up to press a kiss to the back of his, smiling up at him.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life.”

—

A/N - Hi! I’m so sorry this took so long, it took me a long time to figure out what I wanted to write. Not sure why this one was so difficult, but I finished it! I hope you enjoyed it :)

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 1 year ago

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Hi. I read your work on Ao3 and I saw that you said we could come here and leave a request. Can you write something with Crosshair x fem reader with the prompt "What kind of spell did you put on me?" And if I can help you with the plot, maybe the reader could be a shy doctor who agreed to work with the boys when everyone else rejected it. There aren't many stories out there with Crosshair and a shy reader. You choose whether there will be smut or not. xoxo 🌺

Thank you so much, anon. Writing a shy reader was fun. I hope I did it justice! Kept this one SFW.

Cracks in the Wall

Not much could ruffle Crosshair's feathers or get past the wall he'd built around himself over the years - until he met you.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: sibling banter/teasing, shy!reader, doctor!reader, Cross doesn’t know what to do with feelings but he’s trying okay, sprinkle of self-doubt from both Cross and reader, alludes to medical trauma, fluff, softness, cheeky lil’ kiss, pet names.

“Off somewhere?” Hunter’s voice cuts through their shared barracks, stopping Crosshair as he heads for the door. He’s careful to keep his voice even, suppressing the smile that’s trying to appear.

Crosshair grits his teeth, freezing at his older brother’s question. He’d hoped to get away with minimal fuss, but the Maker didn’t look to be on his side today. “Fresh air.” He answers cooly with a slight shrug, sliding effortlessly behind a mask of indifference.

“Right…” Hunter drags out the word, raising an eyebrow as he glances out the panoramic window. “In the storm?” He clarifies, knowing eyes turning back to his baby brother.

“Nah, he’s slinking off to see that pretty doctor again, ain’t ya?” Wrecker steamrollers, not one to miss the opportunity to tease Crosshair. He sits on the edge of his bunk, leaning forward like an excited child about to be told a deep secret.

Crosshair doesn’t dignify the question with an answer, though nerves have him sliding the toothpick between his lips to the other side of his mouth.

Tech knows he shouldn’t torment his twin, but when it’s been so beautifully laid out for him, he would be remiss not to. “Feeling unwell again?” He asks, tone neutral though the mirth in his eyes is unmissable.

The frustrated grunt Crosshair lets out makes his brothers chuckle, and he stalks from the room, the sound of their combined laughter only dying out once the door slides shut behind him.

Making his way down the corridor towards the medbay, the sterile white halls of Kamino make him squint, the light unnecessarily bright. He hates the constant noise and busyness here, the Regs sneering at him as he passes. He hates how sterile everything is and all the memories of being tested and tormented as a cadet.

But that hatred evaporates as he rounds the corner and spots your name on the board for ‘on duty’ doctors. At least there was one good thing about coming back.

Crosshair’s pace slows as he reaches the doors to the medbay, pesky nerves settling into his gut. He takes a moment to compose himself, adjusting his armour and smoothing a hand over his hair. He might be an expert marksman on the battlefield, but the prospect of a simple conversation with you has him feeling oddly out of his element.

You were the only doctor who’d tend to him and his brothers when they were injured, the only one willing to adapt how you worked to suit their differences. The memories of your considerate actions flood his mind – dimming the lights so he doesn’t have to squint, providing candy to uplift Wrecker’s spirits, explaining procedures to Tech, and creating a more comfortable space for Hunter’s senses. It wasn’t just out of professional duty; there was a personal touch, a kindness rarely extended to him and his brothers.

Somewhere along the way, Crosshair had found himself replaying your interactions like a cherished film, analysing every word and every gesture, searching for any signs that you enjoyed his company as much as he did yours. You never pushed or asked too much of him, never complained when he denied a test, and you didn’t draw attention to the way his body betrayed him by trembling ever so slightly whenever you approached with a needle for blood tests or booster shots.

With a deep breath, he pushes open the medbay doors. The familiar hum of medical equipment and the crisp scent of bacta greet him as he steps inside. Memories try to resurface, but he battles them down, even as his heart races.

The medbay is relatively quiet, with a few Regs resting in recovery beds and a medical droid diligently tending to its duties. And there, at the back of the room, head bent over a datapad, he spots you. He hesitates for a moment, watching you work. He shouldn’t be disturbing you; he knows you’re always busy, but since Tech had informed him that they were heading back to Kamino, he hasn’t been able to shake the urge to see you, speak to you, and exist in the same space as you.

As he approaches, his boots make a minimal sound on the pristine floor, and he clears his throat, his usually confident demeanour faltering in the presence of the one person who manages to unravel his composure. “Hey.” His voice breaks the silence, though it doesn’t draw the attention of the Regs or droids.

Caught off guard, you startle a little, glancing up. Your eyes widen slightly as you take in the man standing before you. Elation floods your body as you gaze into the sharp brown eyes you’d come to adore, and relief follows quickly at the realisation that he’s in one piece and has survived whatever mission he’d been sent on recently. For the longest time, you’d tried to convince yourself that your care for the quiet sniper was solely professional, but you were fooling no one. “Cross… you’re back.” You greet him, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He’d never admit it, but warmth spreads through his chest at the nickname. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He mutters, sliding his toothpick back to the other side of his mouth.

Your eyes track the movement of the toothpick before flicking up to meet his gaze, offering him a warm smile. “No problem. Just caught up in the datapad, you know how it is.”

He nods, though internally, he’s relieved by your easy response. The following silence is awkward, and your gaze dips away momentarily, but you take the initiative and set aside the datapad. “What brings you to the medbay today? Not feeling under the weather, I hope?” You inquire, concern evident in your expression.

Guilt churns in Crosshair’s gut, but he refuses to let it show. He can’t help himself. “Feeling off.” He states, the lie rolling from his tongue with ease.

With a slight frown of concern, you gesture towards the private consultation room, a familiar song and dance now. Crosshair enters the room first, depositing his toothpick in the trash can near the door before he slides himself up to sit on the exam bed while you enter. The door clicks shut, and you fall into a standard med check routine.

Crosshair answers your questions with his usual brevity, providing enough information to satisfy your professional curiosity and cover up that he’s lying to be here with you. As you work, the tension in the room eases.

As you move to the physical examination, you watch as Crosshair pries his left hand plate and gauntlet off, enabling you to slide your fingers under the cuff of his blacks, pointer and middle fingers pressed to his wrist, counting the beats of his heart.

Despite his best efforts to remain indifferent, he can’t help but feel warm at your touch, heart rate elevating.

Under your fingers, you feel his pulse quicken. It’s throwing off your count, and you know that once again, you won’t get an accurate figure, but you don’t draw attention to it, blissfully believing it was his anxiety at being in the medbay. Selfishly, you enjoy this part the most. Crosshair is warm to the touch, skin surprisingly soft, and you can stand a little closer than usual, enabling you to breathe in a scent you’ve come to associate with him – regulation body wash, blaster cleaner, and a sour sweetness you’re sure is from candy. You’ve seen how he eyes up the sour gummies you hand to Wrecker whenever you’ve finished patching up or looking over the gentle giant.

After a minute, you draw your hand back, offering a slight nod, which sees him sliding his armour back into place. Lifting your pointer finger, you wait for his gaze to snap towards it, and then you watch as he tracks it side to side, up and down, near and far. You’d recommended the addition of this check when you’d learned about his enhancements – never a defect, in your opinion – and how heavily he relied on his vision.

He tracks your finger with ease, eyes moving smoothly and quickly. “Everything seems to be in order.” You state quietly, reaching for a nearby datapad to update his medical file.

Crosshair can’t help but admire you as you tap away at the screen. He sees a great deal from afar, but being closer opens a new world. “How’ve you been?” He asks, finding himself genuinely curious. He hates small talk with a burning passion, but he’ll always make an exception for you.

“Good! It’s been busy. We had some of the boys from 184th come in, and their injuries were unlike anything I’ve seen before.” You paused in your tapping, glancing up at Crosshair, gauging whether to continue. His gaze was focused on you, and the fact he was still listening gave you the courage to continue. “I mean, I’ve dealt with blaster wounds, shrapnel, even the occasional strange accident, but this...this was something else.” You shared, focusing back on the screen before continuing the story.

“They had this inexplicable rash all over their bodies. I’ve never seen anything spread so fast. And the worst part? No one could figure out where it came from. We ran every test imaginable, yet their blood work was normal; there were no signs of infection, but this rash kept spreading.” You rambled, excited at getting to share this with him. It had been a highlight of the last few weeks – a break from the usual. “We started brainstorming, throwing around ideas, and then it hit me. We needed to check their gear, their uniform, everything. And you won’t believe what we found.” You paused again, looking up at Crosshair with wide eyes.

Did Crosshair give a damn about some Regs with a rash? No, not really. But he cared about you, and the excitement on your beautiful face, as you shared this story, meant he’d gladly listen to the tale a hundred times. “What did you find?” He asked, watching as you broke out into a smile. Sometimes, his heart ached at how easy it was to make you happy – that all it took was someone willing to listen to you.

“Coma-bloom flowers. They’d made camp beside a huge patch of coma-bloom and, while sleeping on the ground, had rolled into some of its pollen. It could’ve killed them if they’d accidentally ingested it, so thank the Maker, all they did was get it on their skin. But still…took a lot of meds, and a lot of showers, to get it out of their systems.” You explained. It had been a fascinating case, expanding your medical knowledge and driving you into exploring other fauna and flora that could be toxic to the men who swung by the medbay.

The realisation sank in quickly that you’d rambled for a while, excited over a case of troopers with a rash. Maker above, he’d think you were crazy. Head dipping a little, you tapped at the datapad screen nervously.

Your sudden shift in mood wasn’t lost on him. He’d seen his brother act the same way after info-dumping. “Smart girl.” Crosshair murmurs, a deep feeling of pride settling in his chest. The shyness that overcame you at his compliment made his gut twist. You were too sweet.

Warmth blooms in your chest at the compliment, and you busy yourself by sifting through his medical file, so you don’t dwell on the feelings bubbling inside you. “You didn’t collect the prescriptions from your previous visits...” You mumble with a frown, double-checking that you were reading his notes correctly. “Did the symptoms go away on their own?” You ask, glancing up at him.

Crosshair freezes, mind racing as he tries to devise an excuse. Any excuse would do.

They were shipped out before he could collect them? No. Once, perhaps, but more than that, and it would be obvious he was lying.

He could go down the route of feeling better before collecting them. But no, that would only make it seem like he’d been wasting your time.

With a sigh, Crosshair realises he only has one path. “They were never there to begin with.” He comes clean.

Brow’s furrowing, your head tilts ever so slightly, curious and concerned. “What? Then why did yo-“

“What kind of spell did you put on me?” Crosshair unintentionally interrupts, watching as your concern melts into surprise, your beautiful eyes blinking a few times. He reaches out, tracing a finger across your cheek before dragging his thumb across your lower lip. “You won’t leave my thoughts. Driving me crazy.” He whispers, loathing how vulnerable he feels but unable to stop himself now there are cracks in the wall he’d built up around himself.

“O-Oh…” You swallow, not sure what to do with such a confession, caught off guard by the intensity of the words and his gaze. The thud of your heart rings in your ears, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Urm, well, I’m so-”

Before you can finish the sentence, Crosshair presses his thumb more firmly to your lips. “Don’t you dare apologise, doll.”

Silence hangs in the air between you. Your thoughts are a whirlwind, processing the unexpected confession from Crosshair. His touch lingers on your lips, and you can feel the warmth of his skin against your face. The nickname catches you off guard, and a flutter of something unspoken stirs within you.

Crosshair, for all his stoicism, appears different in this moment. Vulnerability seeps through the cracks in his demeanour, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart race. You can’t deny the attraction you’ve felt for him, the way your heart would skip a beat whenever he entered the medbay, but this...this is a revelation.

Finally, Crosshair withdraws his thumb from your lips, filling the room with a charged silence. It’s as if the atmosphere has shifted. “When are you next off duty?” He asks. He’d already shown his hand, and you hadn’t run away or demanded he leave – it was worth pushing his luck just a little more.

Confusion mars your brow. “Tomorrow.” You answer quietly.

“I know this great place on Kowak.” Crosshair pitches, anxiety clinging to his words despite his attempt to sound casual. He’s never been one for small talk or sweet gestures, but the prospect of spending time with you outside the confines of the medbay is something he finds strangely appealing.

Your eyes widen in surprise, the unexpected invitation catching you off guard. Kowak isn’t exactly a typical choice for a casual outing, but then again, Crosshair is anything but typical. “Kowak? Really?” You respond, a mix of curiosity and amusement colouring your tone.

He nods, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah, there’s this little cantina with the best atmosphere. Quiet, secluded. I think you’ll like it.”

A genuine smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I’ll take your word for it. Tomorrow, then?”

Crosshair nods again, a subtle tension releasing from his shoulders. “Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 0900 hours.” He shifts off the exam bed, booted feet meeting the floor. He holds your gaze for a second longer before breaking it and heading for the door.

A fleeting feeling of panic laces through you. You don’t want Crosshair to go, even though you’ll see him tomorrow morning. As he reaches to press the small button to open the exam room door, you call out his name, watching as he pauses. Feet carrying you across the small space, you don’t know where the courage comes from as you push up on your tiptoes, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Crosshair freezes at the unexpected touch, his heart pounding in his chest. The sensation of your lips against his cheek sends a jolt through him, and for a moment, he’s unsure how to react. It’s a rare instance where he finds himself genuinely caught off guard.

He turns to face you, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. The vulnerability in his expression is back, your small gesture cracking open another layer of the wall he tried to hide behind, and Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words.

You, on the other hand, feel a mix of bravery and uncertainty. You’ve taken a leap, and now you’re waiting for the reaction, unsure what it means for the dynamic between you both. His gaze lingers on you, and the air is thick with tension.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Crosshair breaks into a rare, genuine smile. It’s a subtle curve of his lips that transforms his usually serious countenance into something softer. “You surprise me, doc.” He says, his voice a low murmur. “But I’m not complainin’.”

With that, Crosshair steps back and opens the door, sliding a fresh toothpick between his lips. As he exits the room, he glances back at you, a lingering intensity in his gaze. The door slides shut behind him, leaving you in the quiet room, heart racing and mind reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

#the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #tbb x you #tbb x reader #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair bad batch #bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #crosshair #crosshair x you #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars clone wars #ct 9904

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sunsetmaidenwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Thanks to @questinwitchface @bastianfruit and @ineffable-snowman for tagging me. Thanks to @jemgirl86 for doing fun things to help cleanse and reclaim the tag!

Rules: Share your top 5 favorite SamBucky fics that you've written, and then tag 5 people.

Destination Wedding M, 31,155 words

Opposites reluctantly attract when Sam and Bucky keep running into one other at Steve's destination wedding. (Lots of bickering and bantering in this one, which was super fun to write.)

Excerpt:

The man was dressed all in black, like he was going to a freaking funeral. Kinda fitting actually. Sam could relate. As if sensing Sam’s perusal, he glanced up, giving a brief nod and a tight smile, Sam hit with the most gorgeous pair of eyes he’d ever seen. Blue shimmered with gray, lending the stranger an ethereal quality that more than made up for his decidedly grungy appearance. Hair shaggy and unkempt, escaping the man bun he’d thrown it in, scruff lining a jaw that was probably too chiseled for Sam’s peace of mind…

He stiffened at the thought, wondering where it had even come from. He was not the sort to go checking out rando’s at airports, especially one that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, opting out of the shower to save time because he was running late.

Sam was never late. This dude looked like he’d never made it on time for anything.

2. That Picture T, 8,168 words

Captain America and the Winter Soldier on the outs? Working on opposite teams? No longer in each other's lives? What's going on?! Can this relationship be saved?! (This fic was written after the first Bucky Thunderbolts* pic came out and sent us all into a tailspin. It's actually one of my less popular SamBucky fics, so I'm a little protective of it. I don't think I did a good job promoting it or selling what it was really about, but if you make it to the third chapter, it's worth it. I love Sarah in this one, too.)

Excerpt:

Not only was Bucky Barnes out of work, he was also out of options, out of friends, and out of chances. His pardon hanging by threads he was damn near ready to sever himself just to be done with the whole fucking thing. Let them lock him in the raft, never to see the light of day again.

Without Sam Wilson there was no sunshine anyway.

3. The Wilson Home for Reformed Assassins T, 2195 words

Bucky Barnes has some explaining to do after Sam Wilson finds a feisty blonde former assassin in the kitchen, eating all the food and looking for a place to stay. (This was my first attempt at writing Yelena. It was fun giving her and Bucky a sibling vibe and writing her meeting all the Wilsons.)

Excerpt:

"Sam! What's going on in my kitchen right now?" Sarah watched as Yelena speared a cinnamon roll with a wicked looking knife and proceeded to eat it.

"Cool knife," Cass said, his eyes widening with a mixture of adoration and fascination.

"I can show you how to throw the-"

"Sam," Sarah interrupted Yelena, a dangerous edge to her voice.

"Sarah, I can explain," Sam said, keeping his voice level, alarmed by how much his sister reminded him of his mother in that moment. Darlene Wilson had been the sweetest woman on the planet, until you got her riled. Sarah was definitely edging riled. "It's Bucky's fault!"

4. The Only Thing I'd Change T, 13,772 words

Sam overhears Bucky say something curious and obsesses over it. Bucky notices Sam acting differently and spirals about it. And Sarah just wants them both to use their words. (An established relationship fic where both Sam and Bucky do too much overthinking and not enough communicating, but they love each other so damn much you know it's gonna work out in the end. I think this is probably one of my better written works and definitely one of the fics I spent the most time working on, tweaking, and obsessing over. At times, I felt like this fic was gonna break me, but it ended up being quite healing instead.)

Excerpt:

"Can you move your seat up?" He’d asked another lifetime ago, sullen and lost, broken beyond repair without even a smidgeon of hope. And through the mess of pain and disillusionment came one brisk, certain reply.

"No."

Bucky had fallen a little in love that very moment. The only person who could love an obstinate asshole was another obstinate asshole. And on some vague level, Bucky had recognized even then that he’d found his obstinate asshole.

5. An Affair to Remember M, 40,365 words

Sam is a college running back destined for NFL stardom. Bucky is a depressed mess just trying to make it through the day. A wrong number leads to an unexpected connection and a secret relationship that can only be temporary...right? (This one will always be special to me. It was my first real chaptered work on AO3, and the first fic I wrote that garnered passionate responses. It's angsty and heart-breaking at times, but also has a lot of humor and heart and an array of guest character interactions I'm really proud of. Reader response and engagement really meant so much to me with this one.)

Excerpt:

Sam’s eyes shone with joy. “You showed up for me, Buck. Maybe that’s what changed everything. Like flipping a switch and now nothing will ever be the same since I’ve seen you in this light.”

“I never wanna be the man who doesn’t show up for you, Sam Wilson.”

“Now you’re just trying to charm me. Steve warned me about that, ya know? His rascal of a friend Bucky. The charmer with the million-dollar smile and a shitload of pretty words. Then I met you and there was zero smile and about 10 words and a grunt or two. I thought he was full of shit, but here we are.”

“Here we are. Maybe I’m an acquired taste.”

“Maybe. Had a shot of you last night, now here I am back for more.”

Honorable Mention:

I have had so much fun with the Friends Don't series! It would be hard to pick a favorite there because it runs the gamut of being fun, fluffy, serious, and angsty. But Friends Don't Get Lipsy When They Get Tipsy gets a special shoutout because it both makes my heart ache and cracks me up every time I do a reread.

No Pressure Tagging: I'm late to the party, so I think everyone is probably already covered. But I'll add @abarbaricyalp @thatmexisaurusrex @firstelevens since I haven't seen anything in the tag from them yet. If anyone wants to do it, consider yourself tagged--or send me an ask and I'll sneak your name in. 🥰

#sambucky #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fic #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sam wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sam wilson #sunsetmaidenwrites #tag games #my fic

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jellyfishsthings · 4 months ago

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Hey! I just recently followed as I read your lazy days in story and omg your writing is beautiful! I was wondering if I could request a sequel to that story? Mabey a more smutty one with them “planning” for the baby or a fluff one with Spencer being protective and the kids helping as reader is pregnant? Feel free to say no. I hope you have a lovely day :)

Planning for a Baby: A Journey of Love, Chaos, and Family Ties

“Every child begins the world anew.” – Henry David Thoreau

In the tumultuous whirlwind of parenthood, it often feels as if you’re cruising through a chaotic storm without a compass. As families evolve, so do their dreams of further expanding, which often stirs a cocktail of excitement, trepidation, and, yes, quite a bit of logistical planning. Recently, in the wake of so many beautiful moments shared, you found yourself negotiating the delicate balance of managing a busy household filled with the vibrant energy of your four children while also planning for a new addition. And to ensure this delicate dance goes smoothly, your partner, Spencer Reid, and you would need to steal those elusive "private moments."

The Reality of Chaos

With four lively children, our home is often a cacophony of giggles, arguments, and chaotic fun. The older kids are remarkable in their own right, each possessing distinct personalities that perfectly add to our family dynamic. From the intellectual debate amongst siblings to the spontaneous outbursts of laughter, it’s difficult to find a private moment where Spencer and you can catch our breaths, let alone engage in serious discussions about bringing another child into this full and vibrant life.

Yet, amidst the delightful clamor of your children, the desire to expand our family continues to tug at your heartstrings. Each laugh shared, every bedtime story told, all provide a glimpse into the boundless love we can offer. You often find yourself daydreaming about the serene moments of bonding that lay ahead with your anticipated little one. But how does one plan for a baby with such limited quiet time?

Finding Hidden Moments

Inserting pockets of intimacy into the daily whirlwind is essential. Spencer, with his charmingly nerdy yet protective nature, has always known how to create those stolen moments. He’ll softly beckon you to the backyard for a break, where we can indulge in nostalgia under the stars. Or he’ll help with the kids’ bedtime routine just so you can slip away to the kitchen for a quick chat—secrets shared over warm cups of tea.

As we navigate the winding paths of our conversations, they’re often punctuated by the joyful noise of our children. Spencer's patience and vigilant demeanor shine as he lovingly diffuses any potential chaos. Sometimes he plays the role of the superhero, swooping in to pacify a squabble over toys. Other times, he’s the wise sage, guiding our children and subtly teaching them about love and the joys of family.

Engaging Your Children

It quickly dawned on you that your older children could also be a part of this planning process, and you didn’t have to carry the weight alone. You often turned to them, tapping into their boundless enthusiasm and creativity. During breakfast one day, you broached the subject of a new baby, gauging their reactions with a gentle yet serious tone.

“Imagine if we had a little brother or sister. What do you think we should name them?” you asked, feigning a playful innocence that immediately piqued their interest.

As expected, the answers poured out in a delightful burst of names ranging from the wildly imaginative to the whimsically mundane. Your oldest, a fiercely imaginative soul, suggested “Thanos,” while our second thought a simple “Baby Shark” would be fitting. The mere banter lightened the atmosphere, transforming what could have been a daunting topic into a delightful brainstorming session.

Finding Balance Within the Chaos

Of course, the planning for a new child isn’t solely about whimsical names and subjecting the kids to late-night discussions. It involves daunting logistics: figuring out finances, middle-of-the-night feedings, ensuring we can find a larger home, and balancing quality time amongst our children. However, I’ve come to realize that planning is not merely about the destination; instead, it’s about celebrating the journey undertaken to get there.

We began adjusting our family routine, ensuring everyone got more involved. Spencer took on the role of a master scheduler, setting up our family calendar with scheduled family outings, meals, and even quiet time—attempting to create more breathing room for the intimacy that you craved as a couple. His organizational skills transformed your family dynamic, allowing opportunities to spend focused, joyous moments together, which feel vital when preparing for a new arrival.

The Protective Nature of Spencer Reid

One of the sweetest aspects of our journey has been Spencer’s protectiveness over your family. He is naturally drawn to his nurturing instincts; much like an old soul, he absorbs the energy around him, remaining constant even in the midst of chaos. There’s immense comfort in knowing that your next child will arrive into an atmosphere saturated with love and protection. His subtle reminders would always be present: “We've got this,” he'd whisper, often when the chaos got too overwhelming.

Whether it’s him sharing calm bedtime stories or playfully preparing the kids for their new sibling, the protective qualities Spencer showcases resonate within our home. His bond with each child reflects his undying commitment to love and support every child, whether they’re with him now or yet to arrive.

Embracing the Journey

As the weeks turn into months and the reality of adding another child sinks in, you embrace each chaos-laden day with open arms. It’s essential to frame this phase as not just a planning period but as a treasured moment overflowing with memories. From the meticulous organization of baby clothing to the spontaneous giggles shared with our children, they serve as reminders that love expands endlessly.

Ultimately, planning for a new child in a home brimming with vibrant personalities is an enchanting yet challenging endeavor. It transforms those fleeting private moments into an ongoing melody of laughter, teamwork, and bonding. Amidst the whirlwind of our day-to-day lives and parenthood’s demands, you’re learning to appreciate the beauty in the little things—a shared glance, whispered secrets beneath the stars, and even the messiness that lets you know you’re alive.

As you embark upon this next chapter, you hold onto the thought that each child plays a crucial role in your family’s unique symphony, eagerly anticipating the harmony that your new baby will bring to your already beautiful ensemble. Indeed, every child indeed begins the world anew—and you are so ready to embrace it.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #dad spencer #dad!spencer #dad spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff

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thelov3lybookworm · 3 months ago

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Misapprehensions and Confessions (part 2)

(moodboard creds to @sunshinebingo🥹)

Day 2: First Fight

Summary: It has been a regular routine for Gwyn to seek out the spymaster for training. And when he suggests helping her out with getting reaccustomed to society, it doesn't take too much persuasion for Gwyn to agree. But when he doesn't show up one day, Gwyn takes up the liberty to accompany herself into the city.

That one decision is all it takes for it all to fall apart.

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Word Count: 3943

Warnings: angst hehehe, misunderstanding, azzie is a dummy but sweetheart cassian is there to make you happy 💪🏻 a teensy bit of an argument, but i think thats it?

A/n: heres the second part for the mini series for day 2 of @sjmromanceweek❣️ writing the angst was so much fun honestly, LIKE IT GAVE ME LIFE 🥹🥹🥹

once again, it was so good doing this collab with my love @sunshinebingo 🥹 ily so much omg thank you for doing this w me😭🥹

Read on AO3 here

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

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Gwyn’s pov.

Next week came, but the Shadowsinger did not.

Gwyn had been waiting for almost an hour at their usual meet up spot in one of the sitting rooms in the House of Wind, having snagged a book from the library to flip through as she waited.

She had been excited for the meet up, to say the least. She couldn’t stop wondering where he was going to take her this time after going to the restaurant the previous week. The thought had kept her up all night as she twisted and turned in her sheets.

She had gone the extra mile while getting dressed up too, picking out the teal sweater Azriel had once mentioned made her eyes look brighter. Under that, she wore a pencil skirt with tights, having seen one of the females in Velaris wear something similar. She had thought the female looked pretty, and wanted to see what she looked like in it herself.

She continued to flip the pages of the book, reading and reading, smiling at the words. The story was cute, one of a female who was trying to save her family with the help of her siblings and friends, one of them being her love interest. The banter, the softness they shared made Gwyn long for a similar connection, if not more.

She loved the male love interest a lot, and the fact that he was so similar to one of her own friends did not go unnoticed by Gwyn.

Maybe she will have her own love story one day, with the friend she liked more than she should.

More than friends should like each other.

But with each moment that passed, her eyes stopped reading, and remained unseeing. The tilt of her lips fading as she got lost in her own head. She stared down at the soft, crinkling pages, running her fingers over the edges. They were painted in beautiful shades, depicting a scenery of a mountain from the book.

Pretty.

But not pretty enough to distract her from the absence of a certain Shadowsinger.

Footsteps drew Gwyn from her reverie, and she perked up, her gaze lading on the doors she had left ajar. Hope bloomed in her gut, even as she knew it was not the one she had been expecting coming closer to her.

The footsteps were too heavy, too powerful, to be his.

Still, she waited, she watched, she wished.

She hoped.

And a moment later, Cassian strutted into view, a smile gracing his face when he realised Gwyn was in the room. She returned the smile, willing her disappointment to vanish.

“Gwyn! Good seeing you here!” He paused behind the couch adjacent to the one Gwyn sat on. “I thought you might be down in Velaris, this is a pleasant surprise.”

Gwyn sighed, relaxing into the soft cushions behind her. “Yeah, I thought so too.”

His brows furrowed, and he quickly glanced around the room. “Where’s Az?”

She shrugged, setting the book aside and pushing to her feet. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s busy?”

Cassian’ confusion was palpable as he huffed. “He can never be busy enough to put off your dates.”

“We don’t go on dates.” Gwyn scowled. “They are outings.”

He simply smirked in return, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “Sure, right. My bad.”

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed as she watched him walk over to the balcony, dusting off her skirt absentmindedly. “Are you going somewhere?”

He glanced back at her, nodding. “Nesta’s at the river house with Feyre and Nyx. Gonna go pick her up.”

Gwyn chewed on her lip as she thought, then her eyes shot to him. “Hey Cass?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you take me down to the city?”

This time he turned to her fully, his brows high on his forehead. “I…what?”

Gwyn rolled her eyes, ignoring the new sadness taking root in her chest at the lack of those playful shadows and their quiet master’s presence. “Do you not want to?”

He took a step forward before pausing, extending his hand. “Oh no, no I would love to. I am just surprised, that’s all.”

Gwyn raised an eyebrow, but moved closer to him to let him pick her up. By this point, she was comfortable enough with him that the spike of fear and anxiety no longer pierced her heart when he was in close proximity to her, and it was just another thing she was proud of herself for.

He gently wound his arms under her knees and back, careful to only touch her where needed, and flapped his wings once. There was a reason the house built in the mountain was called the House of Wind, because as soon as he lifted from the ground, a powerful gust of wind caught under his wings and sent them soaring. He glided smoothly, his wing muscles beating effortlessly. Five centuries of flying practice truly showed in his skills.

Gwyn had once studied about wings and how they work, reading extensively about Illyrian ones. They had been so fascinating to her then, as they were fascinating to her now. The way they moved always had her mesmerized. Every time she flew with Azriel too, she would either always stare at his wings or the city down below.

Azriel.

Gwyn looked away from Cassian’s wings, instead casting her gaze downwards, towards the ground that rapidly grew closer as he descended. His feet touched the ground with a light thump before he bent slightly and set Gwyn on her feet.

“Are you sure about this, Gwyn?”

She turned to him, nodding. “I am. We go out every week so I can get accustomed to socialising once more.” And just because Gwyn was feeling petty, she added. “I’m not going to mess up my routine just because someone cannot be bothered to inform me before standing me up.”

Cassian’s lips parted, but then he closed them with an amused smirk. “Very proud of you, Gwyn.”

Though his expression was teasing, his words sounded so genuine they nearly brought Gwyn to tears.

“Thank you, Cass.”

“I will likely be here for an hour or two, depending on Nyx’s mood and who he is currently attached to today, so you can just come to the River House if you want to go back.” He clasped her shoulder, smiling. “And even if I’m up there, you can just ask Rhys to get me, yeah?”

Gwyn nodded gratefully. “Of course, thank you again.”

She waited until Cassian had turned away, waving in farewell as he climbed up the steps to one of the majestic houses of the High Lord.

Then she turned, and began wandering down the street.

She gazed at everything she passed by, unwilling to miss even a moment of the sheer beauty of Velaris. The shimmering waters of the Sidra, the golden shadows casted by the dying sun across the ground and the flora, the faelights bobbing gently over the entrances to shops and restaurants. Hawkers selling their wares, fruit stalls next to dessert stalls.

She walked without a destination in mind, her hand bent at a slight angle towards her thigh - where she had strapped her dagger under her skirt- involuntarily, the action muscle memory at this point.

She was lost in thought, wondering what could have been so important that Azriel had not even bothered to inform her. It could have been that he was on an important mission, and that he had no way to contact her. It could have been that he had almost completely forgotten.

Gwyn didn’t know. But she did know that she was mad, and she would not forgive him until he had grovelled enough.

The moment she had the thought, guilt followed. What if he truly was busy and if he had taken time off to send her a letter, he could have been in danger?

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought as she glanced around her. She felt tired already, so bored out of her mind without him. She had no idea what she even wanted to do anymore. It would have been better if she had stayed home and completed her projects for Merrill.

Home.

It was such a beautiful, comforting word. The word that had meant nothing to Gwyn for years after her sister was taken from her. It was just that, a word. No meaning, no feelings.

But for quite some time now, since she had met Nesta, since the day Gwyn had dragged herself to the training ring, telling herself over and over that she would be fine, better even, that Cassan would not hurt her, that he wasn’t that kind of a male, a male pathetic enough to force females to feel better about his own self, the word had taken on a new meaning.

Gwyn had learned that home meant more than just four walls and a roof. Home meant friends. Home meant laughing over trivial things, freely and loudly. Home meant warmth.

Home meant Azriel.

She didn’t know when, or how, but slowly, he had become the definition of friend, the laughter, the warmth that made a home, home.

And slowly, the intimidating, lonely walls that had kept her from the scary outside world became so much more.

It was almost dark, the horizon tinting darker and darker with each passing moment, when Gwyn stumbled upon the restaurant that Azriel had taken her to the previous week.

She smiled at the sight of those pristine walls, the memories that surfaced threatening to make her giggle. She walked on, passing by the entrance, the beautiful stars leading up to it.

And she caught a whiff of the smell she had become so familiar with.

It caused her bones to freeze, her muscles stiffening as she turned her head to look.

The interior was still dark, so different compared to the outside. Soft aroma of chicken, rice, herbs, everything drifted out, mixing into such a sweet smell that it would be impossible to not go in.

But yet, under that, was the smell of cedar, of night, of shadows.

Gwyn’s eyes narrowed, and she had only taken a step up the stairs when she saw him.

Past the reception, past a number of tables and chairs and candles, he sat.

At the same spot he had sat with Gwyn.

With the same smile on his face, his eyes soft. His hand under his chin, his lips tilted as he nodded.

At a female. The chair Gwyn had occupied merely seven days ago was now occupied by a female.

She looked like a complete opposite of her.

Curly blonde hair piled spilled down her shoulders, her eyes and skin the prettiest shade of brown. Her figure was curvy, soft, sweet. So unlike Gwyn.

The female wore a strapless tight fitting dress, the material clinging to her like a second skin.

She looked so comfortable, so confident, Gwyn wondered why she ever thought she even stood a chance with Azriel. Of course he’d be interested in someone who was confident in herself, someone who wasn’t afraid to know and show she was pretty.

His words from the previous week floated around in her head amidst the confusion and hurt, solidifying her new beliefs.

“So you like it?”

“Of course I like it! Anyone would love this place. It is so beautiful.”

Had she been only a friend who he wanted the opinion of to impress the female he was actually interested in? Just a guinea pig?

Gwyn’s eyes prickled, and she took a step away, as if simply the sight of Azriel touching the other female’s hand - smiling secretively, his eyes hooded and seductive- would burn her.

Yet she couldn’t look away, not until someone bumped into her shoulder, apologising profusely. She didn’t even look at the fae. She bowed her head in acknowledgement before willing her legs to move. Hoping to leave before Azriel’s shadows - who for some reason were so attuned to her every move that she would find them anywhere she went - reported her presence to their master.

She moved through the thickening crowds, laughing children and flirting adults. Kept pushing herself to walk, to run, back to the River House. She needed to go back. She knew she could not handle any interactions, especially one with Azriel if he found her before she could drown herself in work.

Just when the house came into sight, she slowed down, blinking hard and regulating her breathing. She could see activity inside the house, soft warm light spilling onto the grass under the windows and the porch leading up to the main door, which opened just as she went to knock.

“Gwyn?” Nesta stared at her wide eyed, brows high in surprise.

“Um, hey Nesta.” Gwyn swallowed uneasily.

Instantly, Nesta was alert. “What happened? Did someone do something? Where’s Azriel?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you Nes. I think Az forgot about their date and Gwyn went into the city alone.” Cassian’s voice answered before Gwyn could, and for that she was grateful, as she wasn’t feeling particularly excited to speak.

Nesta’s eyes hardened as she glanced at her mate. “He mentioned he was going out with a female. Did he not inform you? ” She turned to glare at Gwyn. “And even if he forgot, why the hell did you-”

“Nesta, she is not a child.”

Gwyn’s blood went hot, anger simmering through each vein as she realised he really was on a date. And he had told Nesta, but not her.

She would kill him.

Nesta opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to think the better of it and just pulled Gwyn into a hug. “What happened, Gwyn? Why do you look so spooked?”

Gwyn shook her head as best as she could in her friend’s embrace, her heart finally slowing down slightly at the comforting touch. “Nothing, really. I just got a bit… anxious, that’s all. I just want to go back up.”

Nesta pulled away, nodding and turned to Cassian. “Drop her off at the house please, I can wait.”

“Nesta- no-”

The glare Gwyn received in return was enough to shut her up as Cassian picked her into his arms like she weighed nothing, then shot into the sky.

“She really is scary sometimes, no?”

Gwyn huffed, her lips tilting in a surprised smile. “She was mad when we first met too.”

He laughed, his chest vibrating against Gwyn’s upper arm as she kept her arms folded close to her chest. He quieted after that, his focus solely on the mountain that loomed over them.

He flew towards the main sitting room, which they all used most of the time, as far as Gwyn knew.

But he was not Azriel, and the sitting room was not close to the library.

Just another reminder of how considerate, how attentive Azriel had always been to her. Of how he forgot about her today.

But no, she wouldn’t spend her day thinking about him anymore. Not when he couldn’t even bother to let her know he was going on a real date.

That he was ditching her for the one who he actually wanted.

She bid a goodbye to Cassian, not waiting to see him fly off before she retreated to the dorm she shared with her fellow priestesses, pulling out the large tomes she had been assigned to read through and summarise.

But she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus.

Not with him occupying her thoughts.

Az's pov

Something was wrong.

Azriel had considered many things in order to understand what was bothering him so much.

Last night's mission had gone fine; the female he had to seduce to get important intel an easy one to flirt with to get her to talk, even when his entire being had recoiled at his sweet talking and his suggestive touches. Even his shadows had felt uncomfortable and had hissed after every few minutes of the interaction. But it had been a necessity for his job, his duty towards his court. The accomplishment of this mission should have filled him with relief and a sense of freedom from something he had felt reluctant towards from the start. But still…

Rhys and Feyre had thanked him for the information he had gathered that day. Azriel didn't need their thanks for having done something that was expected of him, although having the validation of his High Lord and Lady had been nice. But still…

Something was wrong.

You know what, one of his shadows whispered. The only one that had bothered speaking to him since his mission with that female. All the others were still oddly silent, leaving that one - the same one which had always favoured Gwyn since they all met her - to occasionally use its voice to throw some scathing comments at him.

Azriel sighed after one of his daggers hit one of the dummies in the training ring.

“Yes. I know,” he muttered, even with no one but the moon and his silent shadows to hear him.

At least he thought.

Footsteps sounded at the doorway, before the source of Azriel’s troubled mind walked onto the training area. An intense wave of emotion washed over him; hope, relief, joy, excitement…awe.

Gwyn looked breathtaking under the starry sky, the night making her look even more fierce as she walked determinedly to the weapons rack clad in skin tight leathers.

Azriel stood still for a moment, unable to move as he watched his shadows - every single one of them - rush to her. Gwyn giggled at their excited dance around her. He heard her whisper something to them but couldn't make out what it was. He mentally called for his shadows to come back to him. None listened.

“Uh… hey,” he finally blurted out.

Gwyn turned to him then. Azriel felt a heavy weight drop in his stomach at the apathetic look in her eyes. His heart constricted with fear and worry, so much that he immediately began walking towards her.

“What happe-”

“Hi,” she cut his question off. Her dry tone stopped him in his tracks.

“Are you alright?”

Something flickered in her eyes for a second before she turned her back to him, took a deep breath in, then out, and picked up a few daggers from the rack.

“I'm fine,” she gritted out without looking at him.

Azriel frowned in confusion.

The hell she was.

He hadn't seen her at training this morning, hadn't caught a single glimpse of her anywhere for the entire day, hadn't heard the sound of her voice. And now that she was here before him, the usual light missing from her eyes and her posture stiff as though from restraint, she dared say that she was fine?

Gwyn walked past him, his shadows trailing behind, and stopped a distance away from the dummies in which the daggers he had thrown earlier were still embedded.

He followed.

“You can lie to anyone about this, Gwyn, but you can't deceive me.”

Her first dagger flew and landed in a dummy's throat. She let out a humorless laugh.

“Is this tonight's lesson then? Lies and deception?”

She threw another dagger, this one lodging itself in the centre of the dummy's chest.

Azriel looked at Gwyn from head to toe, hoping to find answers to the growing mystery unfolding before him. He desperately wished to know what was happening to her. He needed to make her feel better. Azriel needed his Gwyn back.

“Gwyn please,” he took a few steps until he stood right in front of her. His shadows remained closer to her. “What is happening?”

The sadness that darkened her eyes as she looked at him made him feel like the dummy, this invisible weapon sinking straight into his heart. It twisted deeper inside him with the tears that he noticed pooling in her eyes.

He brought a hand up and cupped her cheek. “My Gwyn,” he whispered, unaware that it had made it out of his mouth.

Her teal eyes fixed on his hazel ones, searching. For what, he did not know? But he was certain that he was ready to give her anything. Before he could give in to the urge to pull her into his arms, anger flashed on her face.

She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.

“Don't,” she said as she put more distance between them.

Azriel didn't hear what she murmured to his shadows due to the beating of his heart resonating in his ears and which drowned out every other sound. He didn't even acknowledge them slithering back to him. He only watched Gwyn run away and disappear through the doorway.

Azriel stood there, frozen and stunned. Until he felt his shadows smack him in the face, their shadowy forms conveniently solid for a task like this.

Idiot master, hissed the one shadow.

Is that all you have to say? He scowled at it. What would have been more helpful was if they told him what was wrong and how he could fix things with Gwyn. But that was apparently not in their plans.

I'm going with her, was all it said before it floated away. The others stayed. They remained silent, leaving Azriel alone with his thoughts.

The conversation - or was it an argument? He wasn't sure - replayed over and over in his head, even as he descended the stairs down into the House of Wind. He was so distracted that he didn't notice Cassian until he almost crashed into the chair he sat in at the living room table.

“Whoa! You alright here brother?” Cass asked, his mouth full of the cake he had a huge slice of on his plate.

Azriel pulled the chair next to Cassian and sat down. He pulled Cassian’s plate towards him and snatched his fork right out of his hand.

“I'm fine,” he said. He winced at the memory of those same words coming from Gwyn. The dread he hadn't realised he had been feeling worsened at the mere thought of her name.

He dug into Cassian's midnight snack, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth.

“You don't have anything to do with Gwyn rushing down the stairs to the library like the house is on fire do you?” Cassian stared at him with raised brows.

Azriel looked at him. “What…?” was all he managed to ask with his full mouth.

What is happening to her, to us? What did I do? How do I fix this?

His shadows still remained silent.

Cassian stared at him while rubbing his chin.

“Listen, I'm only asking because she hasn't seemed well since she went out alone yesterday.”

Azriel suddenly felt like he was swallowing stones. “What?” he asked incredulously.

What is he talking about?

His shadows did not answer him again. But Cassian thankfully did.

“She insisted that she didn’t mind you missing one of your dates,” he put the last word between air quotes, “but her face told another story.”

Cassian kept talking, telling him how Gwyn had looked when she had joined them at the River House after.

Something clicked inside him. The fork he held fell on the table, its clatter echoing in the room.

Finally, his shadows muttered collectively.

“You're more dense than I thought.” Cassian shook his head, disappointment lacing his words as he dragged the plate back to him.

Azriel’s eyes widened. His heart pounded in his chest. His mind raced in panic.

He fucked up. And now he was paying for it, he realised. He needed to fix this. He had to if he wanted Gwyn back. And Azriel was willing to do anything.

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